#late night talking fic

[finelinevogue]

Imagine the late night talking music video is just clips of harry and Yn during lockdown he filmed on his phone/retro film cameras. Like making midnight feasts, late night drives, them chatting in bed or watching the stars 🥺🥺🥺

crying okay okay.... before the mv actually comes out:

The idea came one morning when Harry woke up and asked you what your favourite song of his was.

"Yeah, I know you don't particularly want to choose a favourite but I'm asking you kindly to." Harry ran a finger down the bridge of your nose and tapped the tip of your nose once, before moving his hand to rest on the cheek further away from him.

Bed with Harry was always the most intimate, because he was often so close and comfortable with you. He would always be draped across you somehow and if he wasn't then he'd want you to starfish across him. Now, he was laying to the side of you, head propped up in his hand and his body half over yours. Your legs were woven together with his and you both looked freshly fucked from some soft morning sex.

"Okay, but don't get stroppy with me if I choose the wrong favourite." You gave him a warning glance before continuing, "I'd say Late Night Talking."

"For any particular reason?"

"It just reminds me of all the tiny, minuscule, moments in our lives where I'm at my happiest. I can tell you are happy too."

"I am baby. I really am." He smiled cheerily before fully leaning over you and slipping his lips over yours. Both of you were smiling too hard to properly kiss each other, but you found the moment a good one nonetheless. Kisses like these were the best, because they were private and they were imperfect.

He had rolled off you momentarily to reach for something on his bedside table and bring it back in front of you both. Both of you now laying on your backs side by side.

"Are we about to film a porno?" You joked, noticing he was holding up and old film camera he adored. Many of your favourite smiles had been captured between that cameras shutter and film tape. Harry fiddled around with some buttons as he laughed at you.

"No baby. We're filming a music video."

"We are? I thought you'd finished with As It Was?" You turned your head to face him, his arms reaching up above you both after he'd started the record button.

"This one is new. It's my Late Night Talking video." He smiled, watching your eyes when you realised what he was on about. This was a video in which he was making just because it is your favourite song he's written.

You couldn't help but smile softly at him, pouting after because he was making your flutter in ways you didn't know possible. You reached through his lifted arm and cupped his cheek, pulling him softly towards you as your lips met his. He was very okay with kissing you back, pushing into you with his love. You both kept pecking each others lips until they were both swollen full of each other's love.

And that's how the first scene of the music video was filmed.

After that, came a consistent montage of tiny moments Harry had filmed over the course of the next year on his film camera. There had been many moments where you hadn't even been aware that you'd been filmed, but watching the music video now brought back all those old memories to the surface and you felt like you could breathe clean again.

"Stop fidgeting." You laughed as Harry changed positions again, curling up more into your side.

You were both laying on bed ready to watch the music video. It was an exciting day. He was clinging to your side like a cuddly Koala. You kissed his forehead as the timer on the video climbed down from 10. He was nervous, because of how much this video represented how much he loves you and he hoped that would come across perfectly.

"I hope you like it." Harry said shyly.

And the video began.

A black screen appeared and the piano introduction, that he used for on tour, started playing in the background. You could already tell the fans were going to go crazy for a studio version of that piano solo. Then in white writing came a small message;

"Dedicated to all our late night talks. I love you."

You furrowed your eyebrows together as you tried to blink away the threatening tears. Harry's arms tightened around you and you tilted your head to rest on his a little better. You bit you lip before any tears could fall, because you wanted to watch the video without a cloudy vision.

The first clip came as the moment that had started it all. It was you two in bed, but as the music to the song started playing you noticed that Harry hadn't kept the original audio in. It left people to wonder what you were actually talking about, but that was something that only you and Harry would get the pleasure of knowing.

The film camera quality was slightly fuzzy and little grains fizzled on the screen some times, but it made for the most comforting and homely video you'd ever witnessed.

The next clip was one of yours and Harry's hands, swaying as you walked in a park together. It had been on an early morning and you had wanted some fresh air before a busy day. You'd been sharing headphones and were listening to 'Stuff We Did' by Michael Giacchino. To some it was a sad song, but Harry said it was your "together" song.

The clip afterwards showed you dancing in the kitchen with a wooden spoon as your microphone. It had been on a day when you were going to meet Anne and you wanted to bring her cupcakes. Then, you had got distracted when a Bon Jovi song came on and ended up singing and dancing around so crazily that you'd forgotten about your cupcakes and they burnt. Harry hadn't been much help though and just sat recording the entire thing instead.

A small clip came on where you were laying completely on top of Harry on the couch. It had been after you'd watched 'How to Train your Dragon' together. Your face was tucked under his chin and you were bundled up in an oversized hoodie of his. You were smiling ever so slightly in your sleep and Harry took pride in this little clip of you. Harry even kissed the top of you head before looking at you and smiling.

The next clip was you in Waterstones, looking around at the bookshelves. You had a tendency to take photos of books you liked, but couldn't afford to buy just yet, and wait for later to buy them. It built up your TBR list easily. What you hadn't realised on that day, until later on, that Harry had been collecting those books you were taking photos of and had purchased them all without you knowing. THere had been four books in total and he'd gotten you all of them. The clip showed you putting each of them back and then Harry immediately picking them up without you noticing. It was one of your favourite things he's ever done for you.

Another clip came of you in Waterstones and Harry told you to pose for his camera. You smiled and brought your hands up to put them under your chin to pose, but in the process accidentally whacked someone in the head. You apologised profusely and it turned out they were a Harry fan too. That fan would no doubt freak now that they were in the video.

A clip of Harry filming the sunset whilst you were driving appeared. The sunset glowed off your face and you skin was slightly dewy from the heat of the day. You turned to him and giggled when you realised he was recording you, reaching to knock the camera away. It didn't work and Harry kept on recording little moments of that drive of you two together. It went dark before long and Harry had gotten a cool shot of the moon before panning down to you. There was another, on the same car ride, where you were screaming at the top of your lungs to Sign Of The Times. Harry's face then came into view and pretended to be really creeped out by you doing that.

There was a montage of clips where you were falling over;

One, where you were running down the stairs and slid on the last two and landing on your bum at the bottom. Harry had laughed too hard that he couldn't even help you up off the floor.

Two, where you were wearing heels and one of them snapped and had sent you down to your knees. Harry had quickly put the camera down to the side for this one and came rushing over to you. He made sure you were alright, before helping you up. You remembered that was the night he banned you from wearing heels ever again. Unless they were Gucci.

Three, you were laughing too hard with Harry in bed that when you rolled you accidentally rolled of the bed. You'd take the covers with you so it didn't hurt too bad, but it was still another moment where Harry cursed you for being so clumsy.

Then there was a montage of kisses, but only quick ones.

You kissing Harry whilst he's getting his hair done for an event.

You kissing Harry when he's just come out of the shower, towel wrapped around his bottom half.

Harry kissing you whilst you're putting on your makeup.

Harry kissing you whilst you were both watching The Martian, after you cried over the ending.

You kissing Harry when he won an award.

Harry kissing you when he proposed to you.

Then the video ended with you two back in bed and the first clip replayed itself. It showed that you were both a cycle of love. You were never ending. The together forever kind of couple.

The screen turned black and the piano reappeared. The text then came up white again;

"Editor: Harry Styles. Videographer: Harry Styles."

"So?" Harry prompted you after the video had ended.

"You edited that?"

"Why? Is it that bad?" Harry sat up quickly and took note of your eyes swelling with tears and even a rogue one running down the side of your face.

"You are a marvel, Harry Styles. I.. I.. God, I love you and I loved it. Of course I did." You laughed, letting out a few tears in the process.

And you both kissed, in cheers to all the Late Night Talking that made you into the couple that you are today.

[harryslittlefreakk]

drunk in love

a late night talking extra 💓

summary: harry invites y/n to a party celebrating his upcoming final LOT show

warnings: very light smut (pretty much just touchy feely, male masturbation), alcohol use

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: i want this to be me ? if i could have any harry, i want this one 😭 can’t believe it’s nearly a month since i last posted!!! sorry!!

you can find my masterlist here! happy reading 🫶🏼💖

“Harry, seriously!” You were swatting his hands away for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

“Please. Missed you,” he pouted, opting to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

“I know baby, missed you too. But walking into the party late and together is hardly keeping it on the down low.”

It was Harry’s idea to keep it quiet tonight, for you to be by his side as a friend of Gemma’s and nothing more. His nearest and dearest had flown to Italy to celebrate the end of Love on Tour, and while he knew he could trust the majority of the guests, there were sure to be people who’d sell photos for a quick buck. You were happy to keep your privacy a little longer, but truthfully, you were itching to shout from the rooftops. It had only been a month since you’d met Harry, and you hadn’t even seen him for 3 weeks of that month. But it was the best month of your life.

“Don’t wanna keep it on the down low,” he groaned, throwing his head down into the crook of your neck. “You do, and you’ll thank yourself for it.”

His green eyes were peeking at you through the mirror, hungry and desperate for more of you. If it were any other occasion you’d be straight into bed with him, but you wanted so badly to make a good impression tonight. You were lucky to have Anne and Gemma on your side already, the pair of them taking to you so well that Harry even ended up setting up a group chat for the four of you to keep in touch while he was away. A mother’s judgement was quick and usually correct, and Harry had made it explicitly clear to you that she totally adored you. You were normal, she said. But still, meeting the remainder of Harry’s closest business partners, friends and family was downright terrifying to you.

“Would help with your nerves.”

“Harry, we have to be there in half an hour. You’re not even dressed.”

“Don’t have to get dressed if I’m jus’ going to get undressed.”

“Go next door and get dressed. Or let go of me so I can,” you laughed, turning around to press a kiss to his forehead.

He trailed away silently, feet scuffing on the carpet before he threw himself down on the bed. Always one for the dramatics. “At least let me see what you’re wearing before I go.”

You padded across the hotel room, pulling a metallic gold maxi dress from the wardrobe. You’d worried it would be too much, far too attention grabbing at a party where you wanted to stay out of the spotlight. But Gemma and Joanie had convinced you, and now that you held it up towards the window, you could finally see their vision.

The slowly setting sun was beautiful, gold and pink tones washing across the sky. You’d never been to Italy before, and suddenly it was your favourite place to be. The Mediterranean was good to Harry, the tan he’d picked up since you saw him last now rich and deep. He was glowing so brightly that you swore he could literally illuminate a dark room. Even the tiny beads of sweat on his chest sparkled like diamonds. He was delicious, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for too long. The way his eyes were fixed on you, likely imagining himself doing filthy things to you in that dress, made you weak at the knees. You had, what, 5 or so minutes until Gemma came to collect you? Plenty could be done in that time. But as soon as the idea popped into your head, Gemma’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Get out Harry,” she called. He groaned as he heard her, running a frustrated hand through his messy curls. “You’ll look beautiful, always do,” Harry told you, pressing a kiss on your lips as he moped over to the door. He said a quick hello to Gemma before leaving, knowing that if he lingered around you for any longer, he’d never make it to his own celebration.

“What’s up with him?” Gemma laughed, pointing behind her as the heavy door swung shut. “Needy,” you told her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I told you he still throws a tantrum! You think he’s all grown up on the surface, but there’s a stroppy little boy in there still.”

You pulled her in for a hug, grateful to have her by your side. “I’m really nervous,” you confessed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t know who Harry’s told what to, don’t want to slip up and ruin it for either of us.” You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, the weight of your nerves finally crashing down on you. You hadn’t wanted to show Harry how anxious you were, knowing that he’d never leave your side if he knew.

“You poor thing,” Gemma smiled, placing a protective hand on your arm as she joined you on the soft bed. “I’ll be by your side as long as you want me to be. Some of Mum’s friends are coming too, so if you need a break from the crazy, they’ll be happy to look after you. Proper British mums.”

—

The venue was potentially one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen. A rooftop bar with floor to ceiling windows leading out onto a patio, the evening sun casting a warm orange glow over every inch of the crowded room. You didn’t think you could ever get over the views from this high up, even stores and corner shops looked beautiful. In the few hours since you’d arrived in Italy, it had totally captured your heart. You could see why Harry chose here for his final show.

“Ready?” Gemma asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Ready,” you smiled, taking a deep breath as you followed her through the double doors.

There were so many people you recognised, some people you didn’t, and it was genuinely like walking into a weird fantasy. A month ago you were getting ready to see your favourite artist perform, now you were walking into a room of celebrities with his sister by your side. It didn’t matter how many times you went through it in your head, how many times you looked through your pictures with Harry, it never felt real.

Gemma took you to meet some of the band first, Sarah, Mitch and Pauli all huddled around a high table. They greeted Gemma warmly, but when Sarah’s eyes landed on you, she threw her arms around you with almost enough enthusiasm to knock you off your feet. “Y/n! You look incredible,” she grinned, squeezing you tightly. “She’s had one too many already,” Mitch muttered, nodding a gentle hello.

You stayed with them as Gemma went to get you both a drink, listening to their stories of touring and performing in different cities around the world, each tale filled with laughter and joy. Speaking to people who had known Harry on a deeper level for so many years made your heart soar, the same tenderness and care he showed you evident in the way his band mates spoke of him. Just as your eyes began to wander across the room to find him, Gemma returned with two glasses of Prosecco, handing one to you with a warm smile. “Got to keep moving, but we’ll be back,” she told the group, guiding you to some more of Harry’s friends.

—

From the other end of the bar, Harry’s eyes were fixed on you. He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering as he watched you laugh with Sarah and Glenne. The way your eyes sparkled as you giggled, the tiny snorts that slipped out when something was truly funny. He was totally captivated by you. Harry couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming protectiveness, so desperately wishing he could’ve been the one to introduce you to his loved ones. He’d watched as you and Gemma made the rounds, shaking hands and exchanging hugs with his friends and colleagues. You’d mesmerised every single one of them, effortlessly commanding attention as if tonight was for you. He’d had no doubts about them liking you, seeing in you what he did, but there was still a little bit of pride bubbling away inside of him. You were his girl, and you were fitting into his life so perfectly. He may have been a little tipsy, his emotions a little heightened, but right there he realised he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

He started to make his way towards you, silently joining your group with a dorky grin plastered on his face. Your brows furrowed as you looked over at him, rocking on his heels slowly as he stared between the three of you. Sarah and Glenne could only laugh, taking his appearance as their cue to leave.

“Do I have something on my face?” you smirked once you were alone with Harry.

“Little bit of sexy right.. there,” he grinned, reaching out slowly to poke at your cheek. His playful grin widened as he leaned in closer, a tiny chuckle slipping past his lips. "Gonna need to wipe that off," Harry teased, his warm breath brushing over your skin.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Can’t risk anyone else seeing that.” His finger lingered on your skin for a moment, tracing light patterns before he pulled away, replacing his gentle touch with soft kisses.

“Harry!” you scolded, trying to pull away from him before anyone noticed.

“No one’s looking,” he murmured against your skin, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you closer. His lips wrapped around your earlobe, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked tenderly.

“Let’s leave, come home with me,” Harry groaned, his voice husky. His hand was splayed against the curve of your ass, his bulge starting to stiffen against your core. Being so close to him for the first time that evening felt like heaven, but you were far too conscious of the amount of people around you. Still, you instinctively turned your head, giving him access to kiss along your neck.

“This is your party, H,” you reminded him, familiar butterflies taking flight within your core as his tongue flicked against your skin. As much as you wanted to give in to Harry, you couldn’t be responsible for taking him away from his own celebration, so many people here for him.

But each movement of his tongue tightened the knot in your core, your walls aching for his touch. His voice, muffled against your skin, whispered, “I know, love. But y’look so fuckin’ good.“

You let out a soft moan as his lips trailed higher, his teeth grazing lightly along your jawline. The pleasure was almost agonising, you couldn’t help arching your back, craving more of his touch. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, the strong scent of spirits mixed with his aftershave, almost enough to put you in a trance.

Harry’s voice was filled with desire, continuing to coax you into surrendering to him. “Can’t help myself, princess. Not when y’look like that,” he murmured, your breath hitching as his lips finally found your mouth, his movements soft yet desperate. His tongue danced around yours, exploring every corner of your mouth as though trying to memorise each taste and sensation.

You gripped onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself. “I want you,” Harry panted as he pulled away, his lips swollen and breath ragged.

You were totally lost in him, your chest heaving as Harry stared deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that he’d convinced you enough.

“That is quite enough of that.” A voice came from behind you, startling you both out of your moment of serenity. You jumped away from Harry to see Anne giving you both the once-over, a hint of amusement dancing across her face. “You,” she pointed at Harry, “keep your tongue where it belongs. You,” she was grabbing a hold of your forearm, “with me.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as Anne whisked you away, consumed by the long forgotten teenage embarrassment of being caught kissing by a parent. “Sorry,” you cringed, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s only a little kiss, love. I just wanted to help you escape him before anyone else saw,” Anne smiled.

“Oh,” you giggled, relief washing over you. With all the sneaking around, you sometimes had to remind yourself that you weren’t actually a disobedient teenager, waiting to be caught after sneaking a boy into your room.

Anne took you to meet her friends properly, the women she referred to as Harry’s other mums. They were exactly as Gemma had described, the exact same personality that your mum had, the stereotypical welcoming British mum. They told you countless stories of a younger Harry - the cheeky little boy who was always trying to make everyone laugh, to the teenager who took every opportunity to sing in his bedroom. It was always weird to you, knowing so much already about someone who was still new to you. Thankfully, everyone in Harry’s life seemed to accept that you’d been a (deranged) fan of his before you started dating. As he’d told you many times, it would be borderline impossible to date someone who had no idea who he was. Unless he dated babies or old ladies, and he’d been very clear that he didn’t fancy dating either of them.

“How did you two meet?” one of Anne’s friends had asked. It may have only been a month ago, but this was already your favourite story to tell. “In a Starbucks,” you confessed, cheeks tinged pink at the memory. “I was actually seeing him at Wembley, and we just happened to be in Starbucks at the same time. He asked me for a napkin and,” you shrugged, “we just hit it off from there.” Even the world’s strongest man couldn’t wipe the grin off your face at that moment. You loved to talk about your meet-cute, the way your heart caught in your throat at the sight of Harry’s rings, the way you ended up basically living with him for a week from that moment onwards. And yet, you couldn’t focus fully, still heated from your moment with Harry earlier.

His touch still lingered on your skin, warm tingles spreading across your waist where he’d pulled you into him. Anne’s friend grinned back at you, your feelings for Harry evident in the way you spoke about him. “Sounds like fate,” she told you, rubbing a hand on Anne’s thigh. “Your little boy all grown up and in love,” she laughed.

You nodded, unable to hide the sparkle in your eyes as you thought about Harry. It really did feel like fate had bought you here, a higher power intervening to lead you to him. As the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry across the room. He was dancing with Jeff, and an unexpected guest - at least for you - James Corden. You knew they were friends, you’d watched Harry’s carpool karaoke and every other late late show segment an embarrassing number of times. But to see him here, genuinely friends with Harry was so bizarre to you. You’d never seen him drunk before, and it wasn’t too different from a puppy with the zoomies. His feet moving too fast for his body, his drink sloshing around the glass as he threw his arms around anyone who caught his eye. He just radiated pure happiness, the very definition of a golden retriever boyfriend.

Harry’s eyes met yours as you watched him, the green of his irises darkening the longer his gaze rested on you. You blew him a kiss, laughing as he mimed catching it and pressing it to his lips. It was insane how someone so sexually driven could be so fucking cute. If you met him for the very first time while he was being sweet, you’d never expect what he could do to you in bed. And if you met him for the very first time in bed, you’d never expect how loving he could be. And now you were thinking of him in bed and getting yourself all worked up again.

“I’m just going to nip to the toilet,” you told Anne, signalling your head towards the corner of the room. You purposely walked behind Harry, trailing a light hand across his lower back to grab his attention, sauntering away without a glance back. You didn’t have to look to know he’d be following you. He caught up to you as you reached the entrance of the toilets, grabbing a hold of your hips with his bulge pressed firmly against your lower back.

“Didn’t think you could get away without me, did you?” he slurred against your ear, guiding you towards the cubicle at the end of the corridor. “Harry, babe, I got your attention so that you’d follow me.”

He laughed, locking the door behind him as one hand trailed up your torso. “Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he smirked, eyes landing on your tits as you turned to face him.

“Was doing fine until you played dirty,” you told him, tangling a hand in the curls at the nape of his neck. He pulled you close to him, his mouth lingering dangerously close to yours. All he could think about was ruining you, having you begging for mercy as he shot streams of his hot cum into you, finally fucking something other than his fist. But he couldn’t do any of that here, couldn’t fuck you the way he needed to in a bathroom stall. “I like playing dirty,” he whispered, crashing his lips against yours. He walked you backwards, hands moving to unzip your dress as his tongue danced around your mouth.

He pulled away to help you out of your dress, his cock twitching as you stepped out of it, left in only your tiny thong and heels. “Fucking hell,” Harry groaned, one hand tracing the curve of your waist as he looked you up and down. Your lips were swollen from his kiss, eyes hazy as you watched him undo his trousers. The second his cock sprung out of his pants you reached for it, desperate to feel it again after so long. Harry grabbed your hand, tangling his fingers in yours, denying you a touch. “Can’t fuck you the way I want to here,” he whispered. “Just need you to stand there and look pretty f’me.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he began to stroke his cock. You needed to come, but you didn’t want to spoil your appetite for him. So if Harry needed you to stand and watch him, a starter before your well-earned main course, you were more than happy to. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, gripping onto your hip with his free hand. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, he never did with you involved, each stroke only making his core tighten more.

He looked fucking hot. His hair messy, sweat glistening on his neck as he stroked the sweet cock that you’d missed so dearly. Precum was gathering on his tip, his rings clashing together as he grunted and groaned, blown-out pupils fixed on your body. You couldn’t hold in the pants and moans that were forming in your throat, your core on fire as you watched Harry bring himself closer to his climax.

“Turn around,” he drawled, pushing your back down as his tip bumped against your ass, your eyes glued to him in the mirror. He pulled your thong to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your entrance. “Gonna- fuck-” he panted, no time to get you stretched out for his cock before his orgasm started to creep up on him. You shuffled your feet outwards, resting your elbows down on the countertop so he could enter you. He pushed into you quickly, the burn pulling a deep cry from inside of you. “Come, baby,” you pleaded, mouth locked open as your walls closed around him. Harry shot his cum into you, sighs of relief tumbling out of both of your mouths to finally feel your cores connected again, finally have his thick cum deep inside of you.

He stilled, rubbing his hands across your asscheeks, dizzy from the sensation of being deep in you.

The moment was quickly broken by someone banging on the door, and Harry jumped back, the sudden absence of his cock making you a little sad. “Occupied,” he called out, buttoning up his trousers before picking up your dress. “Bastards,” he smirked, bending down behind you to help you back into your clothes. He pressed a kiss to the bottom of your asscheek, moving your panties back over to cover your mound.

“Can’t leave together,” Harry said as his shaky hands did up your zip, still dazed from his orgasm.

“Go,” you told him, pressing a final kiss to his lips. “Need to touch up my makeup anyway.”

—

You could hear Harry’s voice booming over the music as you left the toilets, the rest of the party fallen silent. “Here she is!” he slurred as you came around the corner. Harry was standing on a table, a microphone in his hand as he addressed the crowd gathered in front of him. He reached out a beckoning finger to you, motioning for you to come over. You could hardly reject him in front of all of these eyes, let alone with that cheesy grin calling out to you. “This is Y/N, and f’anybody who doesn’t know, she’s my future wife,” he beamed as you got closer.

He giggled into the microphone, jumping down off of the table on unsteady legs. Harry’s audience clapped at his words, a few drunken cheers erupting. “Louder!” he demanded, “everyone cheer for Y/N!”

He had far too much power with a microphone in his hands, you thought to yourself as he wrapped an arm tight around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. You knew you were blushing wildly, not at all used to being in the spotlight. You rested your head on his shoulder, hoping it would somehow obscure you from view. “Seriously,” Harry continued, his goofy grin not budging as he glanced down at you, “this woman is the joy of my life. And you’re all close seconds. Thank you f’coming out to celebrate me, the band and everyone who’s worked on this tour. Roll on Saturday!”

He dropped the microphone onto the table behind him, moving his hand to cup your cheek before pressing his lips to yours, harder this time. The rest of the party had started to disperse around the room again, but now it didn’t matter if anyone saw. You were kissing Harry, properly kissing him, in public, and there was very little that could bring you down from that high. As he pulled away, Harry sat back on the table, pulling you to stand between his legs. “M’ so proud of you,” you whispered, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. He was looking deep in your eyes, his stare laced with something deeper than the affection he’d shown you before. “I love y-”, he started, his words cut off when you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Nuh uh, not letting you say it when you’re drunk,” you laughed, snarling at him as he tried to pull your hand away. When he finally managed, he pinned your hands to your sides, turning you around in his arms until your back was flush with his chest.

“A drunken mind speaks sober thoughts,” he chuckled, peppering soft kisses down your shoulder. You could have exploded, physically exploded in that moment. “Harry,” you warned, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He pressed his lips close to your ear, his warm breath washing over the side of your face. “I love you,” he whispered, grinning at you as you craned your neck to face him. “I love you,” you replied, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words finally came out. “Can I take you home now?” Harry smirked, his fingers dancing across your waist. “Please,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours.

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[hello-eeveev]

Essek and Caleb both learn the Maze spell and cast it on each other as Wizard Enrichment™. They get sent into a labyrinth with the goal of ‘escape’, and if they can’t get out in 10 minutes, they just get popped back out. No harm, no foul.

It starts out as a fun little activity, but then they start getting competitive about it. First, it’s basic races—who can get the fastest time getting out of a maze. But then, they get into a discussion about how the mazes are generated. Is it random? Is there some pattern to the various layouts? And if so, is there a style of maze that is more advantageous? Does the maze creator have any influence over the design of the maze?

The thing is, Maze only requires a DC 20 Intelligence check to escape. That’s nothing to these guys, and they crack it open pretty quick. So then they ask themselves, can we make it harder?

Their previous toyings with Maze RNG become full on experiments and deep dives to see if they can add increased difficulty. They start adding multiple levels, doors that require you to solve a puzzle to unlock, fetch quests, etc. They come up with the most difficult maps and challenge each other to get their times lower and lower and lower.

They become Maze spell speedrunners and modders is what I’m saying.

[aduckwithears]

Can we talk about a missing scene? It’s during the Job job. It definitely happened, and we definitely didn’t get to see it. It's the scene where they figured out the magic trick with the ox ribs.

Here's the thing. We see bits and pieces of the night in the basement (Crowley and his wine, Aziraphale and his ox ribs... and whole ox... and etc.), but what we don't see? The planning! The discussion of the trick.

Because for the bamboozlement of the angels to work, they need props. Aziraphale has to have the ox ribs and the kids in lizard form on him at the time of the transformation. This means they needed to have a conversation about the plan beforehand. And I don't know about you, but this goes far beyond a spur of the moment Bildad shenanigan and takes it to a forerunner of the Arrangement.

I want to know how that conversation went. (maybe i should write it?) (edit: I wrote it)

[becauseplot]

anyway yeah fr i miss ordo theoritas. i miss the theory crafting i miss the hugeass meetings before/after Big Lore Event to brief/debrief everyone involved i miss the chaos and confusion and laughter and teamwork. i miss the cellbit, bad, and phil (key-keepers my beloveds) being the heads of the ordo working together to untangle the mysteries to the island. they were hardly ever on at the same time bc schedules and time zones (WAILS) but in my head they had so many late nights down in the evidence rooms like this

just. yeah. yeahh.

[goldencherryhazz]

Late Night Talking. On Film.

[sigskk]

sooo i started thinking about pacific rim again

[ID: A traditional drawing of Sigma from Bungo Stray Dogs on lined paper, wearing a drivesuit from Pacific Rim. The drivesuit resembles a mecha-style suit of armor. His full body is shown, standing and leaning more onto his right leg. His right arm is awkwardly sitting near his waist, and his left hand is brushing his bangs from his face. The plates of armor are white, whereas the suit underneath is black. He's looking off to the right with a neutral expression. End ID.]

[no-light-left-on]

post-DotO Emily and human Outsider shenanigans, because their friendship needs more love. a little over 800 words

“How do I look?”

Emily looks up from her correspondence with the Duke of Serkonos to see the Outsider dressed in his new clothes. The shirt is of fine ashen grey silk, paired with deep blue pants and a waistcoat to match. He’s fidgeting again, his fingers toying with the corded loop of his top button, but he lowers his hands to let Emily take the whole look in.

She knew why she recommended her personal tailor to fashion the Outsider's new wardrobe for his inevitable introduction to the court.

The clothes suit him.

“You look stupid,” Emily says and the Outsider gasps.

“I will have you know that this style of embroidery and fine cording has a long tradition in Tyvia that predates the Empire of the Isles by centuries,” he tells her. “By incorporating it into the newest fashions of the Isles the people of Tyvia express their connection to their history and tradition while embracing the modern ways of life and cosmopolitanism of the Empire.” His back straightens and he rolls his shoulders back. The fine wool fabric hugs his chest perfectly and the silk of his sleeves falls over his slender forearms like waves of a stormy sea as it spills over into the Void. And yet the clothes make him appear much more human than the leather he wore back when he still was the Outsider.

Emily rolls her eyes. “Wow, you are nerdy and stupid.”

The Outsider’s cheeks flush with irritation and his top lip juts out. He is pouting. Emily chooses to forego teasing him about that.

“I thought you said you want to try something new?” she asks instead, diverting the Outsider’s attention from whatever lecture he had coming next about the importance of tradition and history of Tyvian folk motifs in aristocratic fashion. She vaguely remembers him speaking of it as she wrote a letter to Wyman while he decided how he should present himself to the nobles of Dunwall.

“This is different,” he says. “I’m wearing more colour than you could have ever possibly seen me don in the past.”

“Barely,” Emily shoots back. The blue of the fabric mirrors that of a clouded sky right after sunset. Variety, Emily thinks, is not something that she can expect from the Outsider’s wardrobe anytime soon.

Her tailor, bless her heart, does not say a word in regard to the insults thrown at the Outsider’s personal style and taste. “We can still adjust the fit,” she says, brushing over the differences between black and indigo or ash and slate grey that encompass all of the Outsider’s wardrobe. She’s heard enough on the topic from Corvo in her years at the helm of the royal boudoir. She provides no warning as she grips the strip of fabric at the Outsider’s back and pulls until the fit is snug and the Outsider startles and yelps. She pays him no mind, instead fixes the folds of the fabric fanning out over his backside.

Emily whistles. “Your waistline is incredible.”

“Thank you,” the Outsider says with a smug smile. “I hear narrow waist is popular with the older gentlemen of Dunwall these days.”

Both Emily and the tailor freeze.

“Do not,” Emily stresses, “ever say these words around me ever again.”

“I could fit the waistcoat to this size,” the tailor suggests in a desperate attempt to move the conversation anywhere that is not the Outsider’s subtle suggestion of sleeping with half of Emily’s court to gain their favour and support. “We can keep the clasp, too, but that is mostly seen as…” she weighs her words, “juvenile.”

“Leave it as is,” Emily tells her. “He’s going to fill out some, now that he has real food, and then you’d have to change it again. Save yourself the trouble, please.”

“Real food,” the Outsider mimics with a tinge of sarcasm. Juvenile, Emily thinks, is the perfect word to describe him after all.

“Yes,” Emily says. “You’ve only really eaten whatever in the Void Billie bothered to feed you with. And I would not ever dare suggest that to be real or proper meals, for the most part.”

“How would you even know what she fed me?”

“I spent a couple weeks with her. To call our eating habits proper meals would be an insult. Then again, your habit to eat only pastries is not to be considered a proper meal, either.”

The door opens, then, breaking the awkward air hanging over their little company, and Corvo walks in with a small collection of letters for Emily.

“Corvo,” the Outsider exclaims in way of greeting. “How do I look?”

Corvo does not spare him even a glance, instead passes by him to hand the letters to Emily.

“Stupid,” he answers after a beat of silence, and the Outsider pouts once more.

“I hate you,” he tells him, then turns to Emily, “both of you.”

Emily bursts out laughing.

[wanderingblindly]

WanderingBlindly Fanfic Masterlist:

Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri

Late Nights (1.3k words, oneshot)

Oscar leans forward and rummages through the bag, nabbing a pair of chopsticks and an unopened container. "Want me to stay?" Lando's heart sinks; has he been home late so often that Oscar would offer? "Babe, it's really gonna be a late one, I can't --" He talks around his mouthful of noodles. "I don'mind."

Someone in Seattle (11.6k words, oneshot)

“Could I, like… would you be my model for it? Maybe?” “That’s what the coffee was for then?” “No, that was, uh.” He can feel his face heating up, skin undeniably turning a deeper shade of red under Lando’s gaze – mirthful and a little something else. “That was different.” “Gonna say what?” “No.”

Keep Talking (2.7k words, oneshot)

Closing his eyes, pulling a deep breath in through his nose, Lando lowers himself to the floor – sitting directly next to Oscar’s spread knees. “Yeah?” Oscar asks, voice already softer – leading. He’s still sat casually against the sofa, looking down at Lando with warm, understanding eyes. Lando nods in response, eyes fluttering closed as he lets himself lean against Oscar’s leg, rubbing his cheek against his sweatpants.

Nouveau Hot (3.5k words, oneshot)

Lando’s hand moves faster, the knot in his stomach growing tighter with each stroke, each flick of his wrist. Easy muscle memory, it should be enough but — “Need you, need you, need you now, I- Osc, please I -oh fuck,” He’s rambling, the words spilling out faster as he desperately chases release — hips fucking up uselessly into his hand. “That’s too bad, isn’t it?”

Lando v Media (1.2k words, oneshot)

He’s very aware that fucking his teammate isn’t exactly the best PR move he’s ever come up with. And he didn’t need to be told that, to be clear. Though, to be even clearer, he was told that – Jon made quick work of pointing it out, as did the HR representative, as did the PR representative, as did Andrea. But again, he was already aware, so that all felt really excessive.

Bite Down (Show Me How) (1.2k words, oneshot)

“I’m a virgin, by the way.” Smooth start. Oscar, to his irritating credit, doesn’t even look at him from his spot, leaning casually against the elevator wall. “Yeah?” He turns his head, giving Lando a look that makes him realize he’s not the one in charge here. “Wanna do something ‘bout that?”

You Bring Me Closer to God (9.7k words, oneshot)

They’re still close enough to whisper, Lando’s hand holding him in place as he grins wildly. “You like it rough, Osc?” He doesn’t even care if it’s just a bit, just Lando’s stage persona washing over him like it does all his fans. Looking up at Lando, looking at the lipstick he smeared across his cupid’s bow and chin – it’s like he’s seen god. Felt it on his lips, tasted it on his tongue. Oscar grabs him by the nape of the neck without a second thought, pulling them together just as viciously as the first time. Or: In which Lando is a very slutty front-man for a small band seeking their big break, Oscar is an enamored bartender, and Jenson's bar brings them together.

Hot Pink Ring Pops (Would You Marry Me If I Was a Worm?) (4.2k words, oneshot)

“Oscar isn’t ever gonna marry me if I’m a worm, Jon!” He laments, the words uneven and jagged as he sobs (which, Jon realizes, can’t be good for whatever injuries he’s possibly sustained from the crash). Somehow more importantly, what the fuck did Lando just say?

Is It Gay to Watch Your Teammate on Tiktok? (Asking for a Friend) (12.3k words, 2/2 Chapters)

He’s sitting on the bed, dinner long since picked at, with his knees pulled up to his chest. He feels close to hyperventilating. It’s playing on loop, some sappy little edit captioned “i need to find someone to look at me the same way oscar looks at lando”. And really, who the fuck was going to tell him that Oscar smiles at him like that? 

Mortifying! Anyways, (2.3k words, oneshot)

Mortifying interaction, but he’d survive. Besides, it’s not like the cashier was that cut– “Cute enough to make you stupid, huh Norris?” He could hear his smile before he saw his face, a proper Cheshire grin. “Fuck off mate,” Lando groaned, already trying to scrub the cashier from his brain. Except for the Australian accent, he decided; that bit could stay. Maybe his eyes, too, as tired as they had seemed. And his hair, which looked so soft in that kind of ridiculous side part.

If I'm Barbie, and You're Barbie, then Who's Driving the Bus? (814 words, oneshot)

Anyways, the driver room is largely quiet at the moment. But not entirely, much to Lando’s enjoyment. Buzzing from Oscar’s headphones, loud enough for Lando to hear the words, is a song from Barbie. Charli XCX, no less. 

[violetsandfluff]

Hide and Seek

just a long, fluffy blurb about harry and the reader playing hide and seek in the sheets.

Harry hated seeing you sad or upset in any way. He always tasked himself with cheering you up. Sometimes that consisted of watching your favorite movie or having your favorite dinner, other times it meant lying in bed and talking for hours on end. Whatever it was, he was always more than willing to do it; anything for his baby girl.

“Wake up, baby.”

“Wake up, baby.”

His voice entered your ears gently and you perked up at the sound of it.

“You’re home early!” you said enthusiastically. “I missed you.”

“Yeah?” he gave you a sad smile before brushing his fingers over your cheeks. “Is that what this is about?”

You looked down at your lap where you were twiddling your thumbs, and shrugged, smile fading. “It’s not your fault.”

“What’s not my fault?”

“Sometimes it seems like you’re never home,” you burst out bitterly. “I miss you. I just want to be with you.”

Harry stayed quiet for a moment, breathing deeply as your words sank in. “I feel like that, too,” he said reluctantly, nuzzling his nose into your hair. “‘M so sorry about that, love.”

“It’s not your fault,” you insisted, placing your dominant hand on his chest. “You even came home early.”

Guilt swelled in Harry’s gut. Coming home before sunset should be a routine thing. You often waited up until midnight until he got home and showered, unable to sleep without him. He blamed it on his management team, but the pang in his heart told him that he was partially to blame, too.

He put one large hand on your back and the other on the back of your head, holding you close. He rocked you side to side in silence until his low voice broke the silence. “‘M so sorry, love. What can I do?”

“What do you mean?” You adjusted your head so you could see his face. Your eyes pricked with ears as they examined the defeat on his face.

“I’ll see if they can slow down my schedule,” he thought aloud, “weed out the stupid stuff. But what can I do to make it up to you?”

“I want my Harry.”

A soft smile ran over Harry’s face, creating merry dimples in his short stubble. “Okay.”

You reached up and ruffled his damp hair, causing it to stick up in all directions.

“Hey,” he protested. “That’s my hair!”

You giggled as you continued playing with his hair, messing it up adorably. He grinned, not fighting back because he secretly liked the attention.

“Is that my sweatshirt?” he asked, his smile doubling in recognition as he fingered your collar. “‘M gonna need that back.”

You nodded sheepishly. “I missed you. And it smells good,” you explained defensively.

“You can wear it,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I was only kidding.”

“How ‘bout you get some pajamas on, too?” you suggested. “You have all of those fun, soft pairs that you never wear.”

“Which ones?”

“The pink ones, the striped ones, the polka dot ones. They’re all so cute!”

Harry snorted. “Alright, which ones?”

You cocked your head to side, giving him a playfully quizical gaze. “The polka dot ones. They’re so cute on you.”

“If you insist,” he sighed in resignation, shaking his head to hide his beaming face. “C’mon, I’m not putting ‘em on alone. You’ve got cute pajamas, too.”

You followed him upstairs, to the twin dressers in your shared bedroom.

Harry began digging through everything in your pajama drawer, while you sorted neatly through his. When your fingers brushed the soft, cool fabric of his brown and blue polka dot pajamas, you removed the items covering them, replacing them perfectly.

When Harry found your striped pajamas, he tugged them roughly from the drawer, pulling out several shirts and socks with them.

“Harry,” you cried, half amusemed, half distressed as you looked at the mess on the floor. “What are you doing? I’m going to have to reorganize my whole dresser now!”

“Oh well,” he shrugged as he shook any potential wrinkles out of the patterned fabric. “I can help you, ‘s okay.”

The two of you disappeared into the bathroom to change, not wanting to close the curtains of the large window that took up the corner of your bedroom. It was seldom that Harry got home before dark, so enjoying sunlight together was a treat.

As soon as you emerged from the bathroom, you dove under the covers, giggling.

Harry poked his head under the sheets to coax you out. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” he singsonged. “Baby?”

“Come find me,” you mocked in the same singsong voice. “I’m right here!”

Harry crawled under the sheets, lifting them up to find you, but you tugged them down around you, letting out a squeal of delight.

“I’m coming!” he growled good-naturedly as he climbed through the sheets, rocking the mattress with his knees. “Ready or not, here I come!”

He crept around blindly amid the crisp white sheets, trying desperately to locate you.

“Baby,” he taunted with a broad smile, cracking his blue gum, “where are you?”

Every time you caught a glimpse of him prowling around the mattress like a cheetah with crazy hair, you would giggle and crawl a different way.

“Y/N,” he called in desperation, “I’ll put my cock in you if you come here!”

His cock wasn’t what you were in the mood for tonight. Instead, you made a soft sound to help him locate you.

“The sheets!” he moaned in disgust. “They’re blinding me. They’re stuck in my mouth… what the hell?”

You could hear him struggling against the tangle of covers, kicking and cursing at them. Once he freed himself, he let out a cry of success before assuming his place as your predator again.

You went on like this for a long time, crawling in circles and switching directions until he eventually caught you.

“You stopped moving,” Harry noticed as the mattress stopped shaking. “Where are you?”

A soft giggle gave you away. Harry rushed to the corner of the bed where you were crouched. He reached his arm out and caught you around the middle, pulling you back against him.

“I found you!” he shouted triumphantly, pumping a fist up against the sheets that were drifting lazily back down to the bed. “I am the champion…”

His rambunctious victory song came to a sudden halt as he buried his profile into your neck to kiss it.

“Love you so fucking much,” he cooed between sloppy kisses. “You’re so much fun to be around.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Aww, you’re hungry. So needy all the time.”

“Shut up, y/n.”

As soon as his lips left your neck, you threw off the sheets and grabbed a pillow, whacking it gently against Harry.

“Hey, hey,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “No need to be mean now.”

“Says the guy who just chased me around in my own bed for twenty minutes,” you huffed, pouting out your bottom lip. “That was scary.”

“Mmm, I bet,” he shook his head with a lopsided grin. “A madly attractive guy with crazy-looking hair and blue raspberry gum playing with you under the sheets.”

“I never said you were hot.”

“Neither did I!” he retorted, feigning arrogance. “I used the term madly attractive.”

This earned him another blow from the pillow.

He sprawled out on the covers like a starfish, allowing himself to be pelted with pillows, smiling lazily in response. At one point, he grabbed a pillow of his own and lobbed it at you, but you got out of the way in time.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Madly attractive whatshisface with bubble gum and crazy hair needs to learn how to throw a pillow.”

“Madly attractive whatshisface is done,” Harry sighed contentedly. “I’m exhausted.”

You laid down next to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. You had a perfect view of his strong jawline since he was on his back.

“Me too,” you responded. “I wish we could do this more often. That was fun.”

“You liked that, hm?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “We’ll do it again soon, I promise.”

You stuck out your pinky and he hooked his around it, bringing the joint digits to his lips and kissing them.

“I’ll always make time for you,” he vowed. “I promise.”

Taglist: @madybeth21 @groovychaosavenue @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown

[harrysfolklore]

Can you do Khadijha Red Thunder? <3

LATE NIGHT TALKING MUSIC VIDEO BLURB !! ahhh i loved the video he looked so cute and everyone in it was sooo hot, i hope you like this !

CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME.I POST FOR FREE <3

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by harrystyles, matildadjerf and 298,276 others

yourinstagram people destined to meet will do so, apparently by chance at precisely the right moment

view all 7,022 comments

harryfan1 so prettyyyy

annetwist ❤️❤️

harryfan2 that’s a beautiful quote

harrystyles Can’t get you off my mind x

↳ harryfan2 HARRYYYY

↳ harryfan3 quoting his own song i love him

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 4,983 others

harryupdates “People destined to meet will do so, apparently by chance at precisely the right moment” a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson. Via youarehome.co

The LNT music video must be coming soon!!

view all 107 comments

harryfan1 IM SOO EXCITED

harryfan2 omggg yn used that quote for her last caption on insta

↳ harryfan3 she’s always dropping hints i love her

harryfan4 FINALLY

liked by jefezoff, yourinstagram and 1,593,924 others

hshq Late Night Talking. July 13th. 12pm ET.

view all 21,646 comments

harryfan1 OMFHSKSJAK

harryfan2 FINALLY

yourinstagram ❤️❤️❤️❤️

↳ harryfan3 i bet she has a cameo

harryfan4 I CANT WAAAIT

liked by harrystyles, gemmastyles and 301,927 others

yourinstagram late night talking music video tomorrow and you might see some familiar faces <3

view all 9,726 comments

harryfan1 OMFGGG

gemmastyles You should be a pop girl

↳ yourinstagram i know right

jefezoff 🙌🏻🙌🏻

harryfan2 SHES IN THE VIDEOOO

liked by yourinstagram, lizzobeeating and 4,038,937 others

harrystyles Late Night Talking. Out Now.

view all 102,947 comments

harryfan1 I LOVED IT

jefezoff ❤️

harryfan2 HE LOOKED SO CUTE

harryfan3 i wish i was one of the models

yourinstagram 🥺🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖

↳ harryfan4 I LOVED YOUR CAMEO BESTIE

↳ harryfan2 you looked stunning

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 5,083 others

harryupdates BTS of Late Night Talking via Harry and YN’s instagram stories

The shirt we see at the beginning is YN’s !

view all 398 comments

harryfan1 THATS SO CUUUTE

harryfan2 i should’ve been there

harryfan3 SHE’S GOD’S CHOSEN ONE

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 346,927 others

yourinstagram late night talking music video out now 🤍

view all 12,983 comments

harryfan1 I LOVED THIS PART

annetwist Beauties 🥰

harryfan2 i love that she’s always part of his music videos

harrystyles You’re the only one I can’t get off my mind. I love you ❤️

↳ harryfan3 SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

↳ yourinstagram 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

↳ harryfan4 I LOVE BOYFRIENDRRY

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda a @sunflowervolume66 @lollypopsx @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden @finelinevogue @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @ivegotparticulartaste @wobblymug

[hello-eeveev]

I imagine Essek had this moment of recognition with Astrid and Eadwulf while they were all in the Blooming Grove, similar to how Kima was like “sword lesbian recognize sword lesbian” with Yasha. They all looked at each other and went “neutral evil wizard with complicated feelings for Caleb and a weird relationship to their homeland recognize neutral evil wizard with complicated feelings for Caleb and a weird relationship to their homeland,” and they didn’t need to discuss it any further. Their relationship is not affectionate at all, but it is not hostile. It can’t even really be called professional. It’s just there, and it’s a relationship of few words, but enough understanding.

And Astrid. Astrid Beck, my most beloved. Her relationship with Caleb hurts, if she’s being honest. But so does her relationship with Eadwulf, even though it’s a different kind of hurt. She is just full of trauma and I don’t think there is anything in her life that isn’t filtered through it, so everything is just kinda painful.

But I imagine that after taking on the role of Archmage, Astrid feeds Essek just enough intel to steer clear of the Assembly's ire, but they don't talk at all beyond that. So like, they don't really know anything about each other, but they are still offering up a lot of trust. It creates this weird intimacy of knowing someone's greatest secrets (Astrid, about Essek) and having seen them at their lowest point (Essek, about Astrid) and sharing a weakness (both of them, for Caleb). But at the same time, there is a massive divide between them that, for a myriad of reasons, will never ever be bridged. They both know this, so they won't even try.

They do not have a relationship, but there is still so much to it, you feel me?

[thetopichot]

I really want to dance under the moonlight with Finn. I just want him to hold my hips as we just slow dance & just be so madly in love with eachother.

Also what if Finn called us "Bunny" as a nickname?? I dunno just wanted to talk about it because it's been on my mind a lot.

[percyjacksonfan3]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves (2023) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Edgin Darvis/Xenk Yendar, Edgin Darvis & Xenk Yendar Characters: Edgin Darvis, Xenk Yendar, Holga Kilgore, Kira Darvis, Simon Aumar, Doric (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves), Forge (Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves) Additional Tags: Pre-Slash, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, The rest of the party is there in the background - Freeform, Found Family, Edgin and Holga are Bffs, Forge is a weasel, Slow Burn, Comfort No Hurt, Unresolved Romantic Tension Summary:

Of course they run into Xenk again.

(On the way home they run into Xenk leading a captured Forge back to Neverwinter. It's only logical they camp together for the night.)

[goldencherryhazz]

SPOONING ON SET

An: just a little blurb about spooning with h on the set of the late night talking mv, which I am completely in love with. No warnings just fluff, feedback would be much appreciated, enjoy <3

‘Babyyyy?’ Harry whines from the bed he was currently tucked into.

‘What’s up H’ you reply walking up to him, dodging the various people and extras who were preparing to shoot the next scene for the music video.

‘Want you’ he pouts and you can’t help but chuckle at your boyfriend who had covered practically every part of himself with the duvet except his face, and his pout was clear to see.

‘Im right here, not going anywhere’ you coo at him flicking some stay strands of hair out of his face.

‘Wanna cuddle though, I’m sleepy and I need you to fall asleep’ he moans like a five year old child.

‘We can’t fall asleep though baby, everyone’s going to be ready to film the next bit soon’ you tell him but he was having non of it.

‘I can tell them to go and take a break, then I can have a nap and you can cuddle me, please, just want to be close to you, miss you’ and you can’t say no to that, not that you ever really denied him of anything. You knew as well that his persistence was due to the fact that he had been working non stop recently, meaning he was a bit more tired than normal, the use of beds for the video not helping the situation one bit, and whenever he was sleepy and you were around he would cling to you, not that you minded, you found comfort in looking after him in times like this.

‘Okay baby, I’m coming’ you say crawling onto the bed, and you can’t help but fawn over Harry’s beaming smile, pressing a kiss to each of his cheeks to which he lets out a cute little laugh. You shuffle so that you are directly behind him under the covers before laying down and spooning Harry, wrapping your arm around his plushy waist.

Once you are settled Harry lets out a dreamy sigh, you could feels his muscles loosening at your presence ‘love it when you’re the big spoon’ he says finally.

‘I know you do baby’ you press a kiss right between his shoulder blades.

‘Feel so safe’ he mumbles, yawning straight after he said is showing how tired he truly was. Even with the hustle and bustle of people around him all he truly cared about in this moment was you and the way that he could feel your heartbeat through his back which was enough to send him to sleep peacefully, knowing that your were right next to him. He had to battle with his eyes to try and stay awake.

‘Always gonna keep you safe H, my baby’ you whisper squeezing your arm around him a bit more.

‘Your big baby’ he smiles at the concept, loving how you were taking care of him at that moment, how you always took care of him when he needed you most.

[meteorstricken]

Listen. Listen. If this is one of the expressions that plays over the villain's face when telling the hero they don't need them, something significant other than pure hatred or malice is going on there. I'm just saying. Just suggesting. Just pointing a thing out.