#mainly the mum i <3 her

[spaghett-onaplate]

"blood matters more than anything" blah blah blah my father and all four of my grandparents can consider themselves opps

[sunkingwrites]

going to help out at the school my mum teaches at- yahoo!! :D

[wild-at-mind]

I’m considering changing my new middle name to my dad’s first name. However I am concerned that will give the wrong impression of how much I like him (not a lot). :/

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Blurb 2: Too Fast

I'M ALIVE! Thank you all for your patience :) I've had so many big life changes in the last four months (and in the coming months) - it's hard being an adult, people. I've been traveling (mainly visiting @lethalchiralium a bunch <3), planning a big move, looking to land a new job...all the things. Anyway! Please enjoy. Blessed be, and Happy Yuletide!

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“Si…”

“Hm?”

“He’s getting too big.”

Simon turned his chair slightly away from his desk to peek over his shoulder. In the doorway to their office stood Freyja with a six-month-old Arthur on her arm, clad in a cow-print onesie. The little hood was pulled up over his head, sporting fluffy little ears on top, along with a pair of horns. 

He just about melted when Frey pouted at him and sniffled, rubbing their son’s back. Simon was up in an instant, padding across the carpet to stand by her side, a soft, sympathetic smile gracing his features. He bent his head a little and attempted to get the baby’s attention, gently brushing his back with his fingers “Art. Artie…” he hummed, the last syllable drawn out a bit. “Look at Dada, Art.”

Arthur did eventually turn his head, after a moment, preoccupied with gumming his toy and confused by the interruption. The hood that used to hang over his face and block his vision now sat snug on his fine hair. There was no need to adjust it back to meet his big, curious eyes. 

“Hi, pup.”

Simon wasn’t his preferred parent by any means; that privilege was reserved for his mum. Still, on seeing a familiar face, the baby smiled around his teething ring, and his fat cheeks chubbed up as he cooed and wiggled in Freyja’s hold. He pressed his hand between the two, his palm against Arthur’s chest, and took the infant onto his forearm, his little back against his chest. 

Simon let out a dramatic huff, kissed Art’s head, then patted his belly. “Oh, yeah,” he said, giving his wife a playful look. “Look at those big, manly legs of yours. Thing’s a bit tight on ye, now.”

The baby craned his neck, trying to look back at his dad as he spoke, and quickly getting frustrated and crying out. Simon chuckled and turned him around, supporting his neck and peppering kisses on Art’s rosy cheek. When he was satisfied, he leaned down for a quick kiss from Freyja.

“It lasted longer than I thought it would. He’s nearly busting out of it.”

“Simon!”

“What? He’s six months old, Freyja. He’s been wearing it since he was born. Oversized, might I add.”

“Shut up. It’s my favorite. My little moo cow.” 

“We can buy him a new one.”

“He’s growing too fast. I hate it.”

Don’t I know it?

To Simon, it felt like Artie had only been born yesterday. Where did the baby in front of him, who was sitting up on his own and already using a sign or two, come from? He had no idea, couldn’t say where the time went. God forbid he blinks, and suddenly he’ll be walking and chasing after his sister-

No. It’s fine. That’s what babies do, yeah? They start eating solids, learn to crawl, then walk. Then they go to their first day of primary school, then…secondary…

Stop it.

He settled for a soft, “I know, love.”

Arthur cooed up at him again, a sound known to pull easy smiles from the man. He would listen to it forever, if he could. 

“Yeah? Do you like that idea?” Simon asked, tracing patterns on Art’s back with his fingers again. “Do you want a new cow onesie?” A little smile from Art. “Alright, pup. Dad will get you one.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117, @halfmoth-halfman, @peachesofteal, @nirvanaaaonly, @ysljoon, @ssoliva, @fenixyrie, @voodoo-writer, @eleazarkate, @tomhardy41, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @captainquake42

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[azrakaban]

Theodore nott fluffy dating head canons please 🥺🥺🥺🥺

AGH YES YIPPEE I LOVE WRITING THESE I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS

Theodore Nott Headcanons <3

Let's get right into it with some basic Theo headcanons, and then some dating ones too!

- Deffo has a Bernese Mountain dog back at home tbh, his mum loved them and got one before she died, and he loves that dog because it's all he really has left of her presence in his home

- Besties with Mattheo since they were both really little

- His mum died when he was eight, in childbirth, when giving birth to his little sister.

- his family is the Slytherin equivalent of the Weasleys, but reversed. He has four older sisters, and two younger sisters.

- Forces Mattheo to help him babysit his sisters

- Lapses into Italian when he gets tired

- Deffo sleeptalks in Italian, and when you first started dating you probably got so confused 😭

- He's really irritating when teaching you Italian, he'll throw in a word into his sentence and then make you look it up in a dictionary

- For sure loves dancing, whether or not you're good, if you're alone and there's music, call yourself Ginger Rogers

- Big fan of hand holding, he likes the feeling of having you that close.

- Hilarious when drunk, drunk words sober thoughts fr. He'll insult Draco's bleach, but then look at you and be like "Amore mio! guarda Matteo, guarda com'è bella! Aspetta, cosa stai facendo? Smettila di guardare la mia ragazza!" (My love! Look Mattheo, look how beautiful she is! Wait, stop looking at my girl!)

- Definitely a cat person besides his Bernese, and would adopt a black cat ASAP

- Would totally be an animagus, probably a black cat or a wolf

- If wolf, he'd maybe let you ride on his back. Only if he was in a good mood though.

- His music taste: Classical, specifically Beethoven, chase Atlantic, Coldplay. Guilty pleasure is Ariana Grande.

- Love language? Teaching you Italian for sure. Although does give presents randomly if he feels like it, but not too often.

- Definitely ambidextrous, and will help you write your homework. He learns how to mimic your handwriting so that if you don't feel good, he can do your homework for you

- convinced he sleeps with so many blankets that trying to find him in that MESS of a bed is impossible 😭

- actually apologises to your teddies if they fall of your bed

- reads poetry to calm down and will write it about you (you'll never see it though)

- definitely the designated driver most of the time 😭

- he's got snacks stashed all over the castle incase you two get hungry but you'll never know where he's hiding them 😭

- he has a resting bitch face until you're in the room

- queen of accidental photo bombs and there is not a single cute picture of you two no matter how

- pookie CANNOT swim. Don't even get him to try 🤡

- he's an ambivert, so mainly introverted with people he doesn't know, but is actually the clown of the group (him and Mattheo)

- He can play cello and double bass, but only plays for you if you ask

- actually the biggest hopeless romantic, Mr Darcy type shit

- Insanely good singer, and will sing to you in Italian

- good at herbology, took it for OWLS and NEWTs and became friends with Neville through it, they partner every day

- his favourite colour is navy

- Will speak Italian to Mattheo, who can speak it too, just to be funny. Like he'll be glaring at Draco and saying to Mattheo:

"So you think firewhiskey is worse than Muggle tequila?"

"Uh yeah, why are we glaring at Draco?"

"I want him to think we're shit talking him. So do you eat crackers when you drink or not?"

"No, gross. Nutella pancakes."

"Sounds... surprisingly good."

- He cannot wink, so he'll pass you a note in class and try but it looks like he's got something in his eye because both his eyes start twitching 😭

- He thinks pick up lines are shit, and won't use them. He will however ask you out politely and take you on a date or a few before he asks you to be his partner.

Hope this is what you were looking for! Love and thanks for the request <3

[1d1195]

Right Here

Hi, idk if you all know this about me, but I love tropes. ALL of them. All. of. them. So here they all are: one bed, nightmares, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, childhood "friendship," coworker Harry, grumpy/sunshine (I'll let you guess who's who), etc. etc. etc. (Don't look too close this is Zipper but reveresed)

Other warnings: angst

9.2k+ words

“Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.

She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.

In Year 2, Harry was playing with a few of his friends by the slide. He wasn’t really aware of what was happening but there was a girl in his class playing with a couple of her friends when the screaming started. There was a huge to-do; parents were called, the principal was involved, and the girl that seemed to be at the center of all the drama would not stop glaring at Harry.

But Harry didn’t like girls. He was six. He wanted to hang out with his friends at recess and maybe learn about the shapes and the planets if he had time. So, he didn’t really care that she glared at him. Or that he had to write an apology letter (that his mum told him how to write in his six-year-old scrawl). It was just another day in the life of a Year 2 student. He didn’t even know why he was writing the little note to her. He didn’t know what happened or why he did something wrong.

Year 2 turned to Year 3 and soon Harry was kissing and hugging his mum and sister goodbye as he went off to university. He was studying English Literature and Communications. He wanted to be a book publisher—mainly because he wanted an excuse to read all kinds of books. Moreover, he could read really good books before everyone else did. Eventually, he hoped to open his own publishing company, but he would need a business partner for that.

That was still a long way down the road. For the time being, he would enjoy university: friends, girlfriends, classes, his part time job, and everything in between. His only downfall was listening to his professor who suggested he get a minor in business—especially if he planned on own his own company. Even if he didn’t fully run the business side of things, it was good to have a general idea. Some key words and concepts would be helpful. More so, if the business partner wasn’t someone he trusted.

But Harry was awful with his business classes. The very first one he took was the bane of his existence. He strongly considered never opening his own company, he would just get the other person to handle it. Needless to say, he was recommended for tutoring two weeks into the class.

That’s where he found the glaring girl. Obviously, no longer seven. She was twenty, like Harry. And she was lovely looking. Except for the scowl on her face directed at Harry. Surely, she hadn’t harbored a grudge toward Harry since she was seven?

Oh, but she was. She was curt while she tutored. Everything Harry did was wrong. She managed to correct his mistakes kindly, but he could tell it pained her. There was a lot of sighing and eye-rolling involved. But she was good, he’d give her that.

Harry tried to be friendly, but she clearly wanted no part of it. “I am not here for small talk with you, Harry,” her voice was flat. She didn’t want to talk about the weather, or parties, or anything that wasn’t part of Harry’s class. When she came to help him at the designated time in the library with tears in her eyes, she sat down, took a deep breath, sniffled, and started her help with his homework.

“Hey, we don’t have t’do this now, beautiful. You’re obviously upset—”

“What do you care?” She interrupted.

“Jesus,” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “What is your problem?” She rolled her eyes, tearfully. “Y’can’t seriously still be mad about Year 2.”

She shook her head. “Just...shut it,” she snapped and turned her attention to Harry’s assignment. He sighed, looking at her like she was on the verge of a breakdown but did as she wished. Listening intently to her lesson, Harry felt this pull of how sad he was by her anguish, and he didn’t even know what it was. He kept watching her expressions, judging her tone, in between her explanations. He was worried there was something seriously wrong.

Despite her anger towards him, he didn’t want her to be upset. He worried someone had hurt her or upset her in some way—in a way that he could fix. It didn’t occur to him why he wanted to help her until well after three other classes she tutored him in for his minor over the last two years of university.

He got very little information out of her about anything that didn’t pertain to his classes. He knew she was grumpy in the afternoon and much preferred to tutor in the morning when her mind was fresh. That was when he got a glimpse of her gentler side—for only a second. She liked coffee a lot, she smelled fresh of her shampoo, and her eyes were brighter. She would ask if he had a good weekend or if he had any fun plans. It was the only time she offered up anything to him.

If it was any time past two in the afternoon, she wanted nothing to do with pleasantries or Harry, it seemed. But she was paid to tutor him, and she did it well. Harry never would have made it through his business classes without her. He was forever thankful for her help, even if she didn’t want to be thanked.

*

“Harry, would you like to go to this conference?”

He looked up from his desk where he was reading a riveting historical fiction novel that was passed up the chain to him. Harry thought it would be a NYT bestseller for sure. “Me?” He asked, clearing his throat and putting his pencil down. One thing he hated was marking up people’s hard work in any color pen—but especially red. It felt very secondary school of his coworkers to do it that way. Someone pored over this writing and of course no one expected it to be perfect, not even the author. But there was something so ugly about red ink marking up something that your blood, sweat, and tears went into.

Harry would quit writing if he saw even one smidge of red ink on his work.

Which is why he edited and didn’t publish his own work.

Harry had been a senior editor for four years, now. He loved his job. It was everything he hoped for: he read so many good stories and felt he was still learning so much. He was promoted from junior editor to senior editor after two years. He still hoped to own his own company one day.

“Yeah,” his boss rolled his eyes. “Who else would I send? Someone from the business administration team will attend as well,” he explained.

Harry smiled; he knew the second the title left his mouth exactly who would be attending the conference with him. She was going to hate it. “I would love to go,” Harry nodded excitedly. “But between you and me, I don’t want anyone t’get jealous that m’going. D’you think y’can keep it a secret?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged. Harry loved this office. It was so carefree. When he had his own company, he would want it to be exactly like this. If he could own this one, he would. He liked all of his coworkers and would want to keep them alongside him.

Including the girl from the admin team that constantly glared at him during work parties, meetings, and office breakroom run ins. If she wasn’t there, then it wouldn’t be worth it.

When Harry saw her interact with their coworkers, he couldn’t help but fall more in love with her. She was so utterly beautiful, funny, and of course, absolutely brilliant. There wasn’t a question she didn’t know how to answer. There wasn’t any advice she couldn’t give. She was never condescending and was extremely helpful. Even when Harry needed her help—which was so rare he only recalled it three times in the entire seven years they worked together. She didn’t sigh, didn’t roll her eyes although he was sure she wanted to.

So, nothing made him happier than annoying her to pieces.

He told everyone he had known her since Year 2. Left notes for her on her cute little lunch box in the fridge, would constantly send random items to her office (his favorite was the look on her face when he sent her a bouquet of balloons. It didn’t do anything, but people said Happy Birthday to her all day, and she had to say it wasn’t). He would tell people they were best friends and watch her blush bright red trying to get out of it. There were so many fake secrets he told the person he was near making direct eye contact with her, just to piss her off.

It worked every time.

He worshipped her, honestly. How could he not? She was brilliant and beautiful. The whole package. Even when she was a bit crabby, he thought she was simply the cutest and went on adoring her from afar.

Harry couldn’t imagine how fun a work trip would be with her.

*

She hated flying. It was necessary but she hated it. The space was almost too small. It was stuffy and gross in a lot of ways. The seats were cramped, and it was just awful. She had her headphones in place, a relaxing, quiet playlist, a good book, and her travel pillow around her neck. She was more than ready to begin the flight. The conference was a treat, it was shorter hours than her regular workday and then she could meander the town as much as she pleased. It was going to be a great trip and she had been looking forward to it for the last two weeks.

But then Harry sat right beside her. “Hey beautiful,” he smiled sweetly. She stared at him. This had to be a joke.

“You’re kidding?”

“What?” He smirked impishly stowing his bag beneath the seat in front of him. “Excited t’see me?” She flushed that beautiful shade of red that he loved so much on her cheeks. “Ready for our vacation?” He asked. “Bring a good book?”

The plane was suddenly even smaller. She thought she was going to be sick. A whole five days with Harry. Five. She was going to lose her mind. She closed her eyes as the plane jolted forward. Harry was doing all the things he wasn’t supposed to be doing. Fidgeting with the tray table and the like. She wanted to scream.

How could she possibly get stuck with him?

*

Harry didn’t say much to her throughout the flight. At least not after asking if she was comfortable, which was objectively nice if she couldn’t stand him so much. He grabbed her bag from the bin overhead, made sure she didn’t get lost on her way to baggage claim, and held the door open for her when they reached their Uber. “Business or pleasure?” The driver asked.

She stated “business,” immediately. Whereas Harry said, “a bit of both,” with that devilish smirk of his and looked at her with delight in his eyes. He seemed to get more enjoyment out of his comment as she glared at him.

She really wished Harry wasn’t so goddamn hot. It should have been a sin to make someone so alarmingly attractive. Soft brown curls that looked like they were made to slip between her fingers. He had green eyes—how was that even fair? Those dimples made her stomach flip. He was incredibly tall and so fit; she thought about falling at his feet every day she saw him at work and just ending her silly grudge.

But she never forgave him for that day in Year 2. Call her stubborn, call her stupid. She didn’t care. It ruined a huge chunk of her young life and made her miserable.

Four days and twenty-two hours. She could survive.

“Me and the missus need a place t’eat, do y’have any suggestions?” he asked, reaching for her hand like they really were a couple. She yanked it out of his grip. She wanted to kill him. More so because she hated the way her heart took off when he touched her and the idea of being “the missus” was...ugh.

She was worried Harry wouldn’t survive the next four days, twenty-one hours, and fifty-eight minutes.

*

They arrived at the hotel and Harry was once more a gentleman, even though she didn’t want him to be. He grabbed her suitcase and sweetly pushed it through the lobby to the front desk. “Hi,” Harry said cheerfully. She wanted to shower, get out of her plane clothes, and get away from Harry. His chipper attitude was making her grumpier than normal. “I have a reservation under Styles,” he explained. “Here for the convention,” he added.

The man behind the desk nodded, smiling pleasantly as he tapped away on his computer. “It says two guests for your name,” he informed him. Her heart dropped to her feet.

“No, it doesn’t,” she murmured, but she knew it was right.

Harry was smiling like an idiot. This was too good to be true for him and his endless bouts of annoying her. “That’s correct,” Harry nodded.

“Are there any other rooms?” She asked. She already knew the answer, but she would kick herself if she didn’t at least check.

“No, I’m afraid we’re really booked with the convention.”

She didn’t dare ask if there were two beds because she already knew that answer too.

“It’ll be fine, lovie, don’t worry,” he promised. Part of her thought he really meant it too, sensing how upset she was. She was so overcome with frustration; she almost didn’t notice the new name he gave her. That it wouldn’t be torture for her to be in the same little space as Harry for the entire five days. Her heart started erratically beating at the thought. It felt like the sides of her brain were caving in like the walls surely would be when they got to the room.

She would lay ground rules. She would go buy a roll of tape and cut the room in half. Harry wasn’t going to ruin her little reprieve from work. He continued to be kind and pulled her bag to their room. “I would like to shower,” she told him as she eyed the single, king-sized bed in the middle of the room, mocking her. He settled the bags on opposite sides of the room. He chose the side closer to the window for her.

“I’ll be right in,” he winked at her.

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, which she knew was exactly what he wanted. “What if I don’t want the window side?” She asked instead.

“Well, that I don’t really care, lovie. M’taking closer t’the door in case someone breaks in. Wouldn’t want you t’get hurt.”

She just wanted to annoy him the way he always annoyed her. Maybe make him move the bags around and then move them again which she informed him she did want the window side. But she didn’t expect him to be so nice. Didn’t think he would give a reason that was kind enough to care about her well-being. Even when she was grumpy toward him.

If her cheeks were going to be red the whole week, she was going to lose it. “Don’t come in the bathroom or I’ll murder you,” she rolled her eyes.

“I would never do that,” he rolled his eyes right back at her. “I was jus’ kidding.”

Unfortunately, she believed him. He seemed genuine, as much as she wanted to kill him.

*

The shower helped her relax marginally. At the very least she got the feeling of the plane off her. “I ordered some pizza. Y’like peppers and onions on yours, right?” Harry, knowing exactly what she liked, furthered her agitation.

“Yeah,” she mumbled.

“I’d like t’shower too. D’you think y’can get the pizza when it arrives and actually get mine too?” He smiled at her knowingly; like he thought she might not take his pizza from the delivery guy in protest of the whole situation.

She rolled her eyes but had to hand it to him because it did sound like her. “Yes, Harry.”

“Hey beautiful?” he said softly. She hated that she looked up, answering to his pretty pink lips calling her ‘beautiful.’ She shouldn’t have. First and foremost, she thought he was wrong. Maybe it was because of all the drama of Year 2 but she never had boys of any age fawning over her after the slide-incident. Not the way they ogled and adored her friends. It did a number on her self-esteem. While she tried to put up this front that she didn’t care about whether she was beautiful or not, it was hard to believe someone like Harry would recognize her as even pretty.

Secondly, it made her stomach flip when he said it and she hated that. It was unfair he was pretty and unfair he could make her crazy with just a word. “M’not so bad,” his face looked apologetic—like he felt bad for existing. “I promise, it won’t be that bad this week with me.” She nodded sullenly, ran her brush through her hair. “’Ve left some notes on the table there for the pizza,” he tilted his chin toward it.

“You don’t need to pay for me.”

He smiled. “Course I do, lovie. S’my treat.”

She hated the way she answered to ‘lovie’too.

*

She sat in comfortable silence while she ate her pizza. While eating, she looked at the itinerary on her phone. Made plans in her mind and thought about some of the things she wanted to do during her free time.

“Oh good, m’starving. Smelled it while I was showering.”

She did a double take, her jaw falling open instinctively. She nearly dropped her pizza on her lap and then her phone right after it. Harry was hurrying across the room to get to his pizza. A towel low on his hips showing off glistening, taut muscles. Her heart hammered against her chest. “Jesus,” she whispered to herself looking away.

“Did y’say something, beautiful?” He asked, taking a bite of his pizza. She shook her head. Once more, angry she answered with the word ‘beautiful’.  His hair was dripping, and she followed the little droplets as they slid down his broad shoulders and across his defined pectorals. It wasn’t fair. She wanted to hate him easily. But his pretty tattoos and his gorgeous body were making it so difficult.

“I’m think I’m going to sleep on the floor,” she told him. He frowned around a bite of his pizza. When he finished chewing, he had a bit of grease on each corner of his mouth. She wanted to reach out with a napkin and wipe it away.

Or lick it away, along with the rest of his body.

“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” he promised. “M’not gonna let y’sleep on the floor, lovie,” he rolled his eyes. “If you’re that uncomfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor.”

She couldn’t help but feel bad that her awkwardness, her annoyance for Harry, would have him sleep on the floor. He didn’t truly deserve that. This was a work trip for him as well, after all.

Maybe if he was fully clothed, she would have taken him up on his offer. Accepted him sleeping on the floor in her place. But her modern-woman, intelligent brain that she had spent years cultivating so she was independent, and worked so hard to make sure she didn’t go ga-ga over a man was malfunctioning from travel...and knowing she was stuck with Harry in such close quarters for almost a week.

Plus, Harry had the prettiest stomach she had ever seen on a man.

Her primal brain, the one that seemed to be screaming from between her legs, couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“It’s…fine,” she mumbled focusing on her pizza and phone again.

“Are y’sure, beautiful? I don’t want t’make y’uncomfortable.”

She believed him. He seemed so eager to please her and ease her worries. She nodded. “It’ll be fine,” she was telling herself in hopes it would be true. “But I’m making a pillow wall.”

He smiled around his pizza.

*

“Would y’prefer I sleep with or without a shirt?” He asked. Harry went to use the hotel gym and then took another shower. She used the time to read her book and sit on the balcony while the sun was setting. It wasn’t a picturesque view or anything, but the sky was a bunch of beautiful hues of pink, blue, and orange.

When Harry exited the shower, it was awkwardly silent for a bit. Harry tended to his after shower-care. She was looking at her book but not reading. She yawned, and that was when Harry asked his question. The inquiry felt like a double-edged sword. If she said with a shirt, it might imply she wanted to hide him from her view because she couldn’t help but look at him. If she said no, it would make it seem like she wanted to see him. “Whatever makes you comfortable,” she decided on.

He smirked and pulled his T-shirt off. “‘Fraid you’re not privy t’that sleeping habit, lovie.” She wondered if anyone had ever been murdered with a hotel phone cord. She felt extremely self-conscious about her t-shirt and leggings combo. “Feel free t’do the same, beautiful,” he grinned wickedly at her as he slipped into his side of the bed. She had two pillows under the blankets and two on top. She was certain that even if she had her own room, it wouldn’t be enough distance between them. “What if I want another pillow?” He asked mischievously.

“Go fuck yourself, Harry,” she grumbled.

He frowned. “C’mon, lovie. S’not so bad.” She didn’t say anything in response and turned to her side facing away from him. She scrolled mindlessly on her phone. “D’you want t’watch something together?” He asked.

“No, thank you,” she murmured quietly. “You can though,” she shrugged. “I’ll sleep through most anything.”

He nodded. “Okay...well...good night, beautiful. Sleep well,” he said sweetly.

She didn’t fall asleep right away. Instead, she imagined the nice museum she saw online. The picturesque street about a mile away with cute little shops. There was the coffee shop she wanted to go to. All the things that Harry couldn’t ruin with his annoying little remarks.

Or his stupid hot body.

Other than some gentle laughter, she didn’t hear or worry about Harry sleeping less than six inches from her own body. The pillows provided the perfect barrier between them so that she could sleep easily knowing that he wouldn’t bug her.

Only four days until it was over. She could do this.

*

Harry heard her phone drop from her hands to the floor about an hour later. He hurried to her side of the room and made sure her alarm was set, locked her phone, and placed it on her nightstand. He saw the way she seemed to shiver in her sleep. Probably because she was right under the vent. The space between her brows puckered due to her discomfort. He draped the blanket that was at the end of the bed over her. Almost immediately, the skin between her eyebrows smoothed back out. He wanted to kiss her in the very same spot but of course would never do that without her permission.

The movie Harry was playing was funny and he enjoyed it immensely. True to her word, she slept through his laughter and the sound of the movie itself. She was wiggly when she slept. The pillows and blankets balled all around her and Harry wondered how she slept like that each night. It looked nearly painful at times.

Of course, the movie came to an end, and she was still sound asleep when Harry finally turned the TV off and hunkered down into his side of the mattress. He tried not to disturb her pillow wall, but she had managed to throw all of them every which way. He smirked to himself, shaking his head at her.

Harry must have gotten only an hour of sleep under his belt when he woke up to her kicking and mumbling under her breath. The light coming through the window allowed for his eyes to adjust a bit to the darkness against her figure sprawled in the sheets. He shook his head glancing over at her in complete disarray.  Her body was still twisted around the pillows and blankets. Harry was left with just the sheet. He smirked at her.

He threw his arm over his eyes and ignored her fitful movements. But they kept going and going. The mumbling too. He felt bad about whatever she was dreaming about, but he didn’t dare touch her. If she woke up to him touching her, even if it was for comfort, he was certain she would kill him.

Harry was a pretty heavy sleeper himself, so her fussy movements didn’t bother him in the slightest. Whatever she was dreaming about had to be a kick for sure and for that he felt bad.

But then Harry heard small whimpers coming from her and he felt his stomach knot. It felt like he was dying at the mere sound of her discomfort. The anguish he felt coming from her was brutal and he wanted nothing more than to hold her and fix it. “Oh, hey,” he hummed, sitting up against the headboard. He looked her over and thought incurring her wrath would be well worth it if he could stop her from whimpering miserably. “Lovie? Y’okay?” He gently shook her by the shoulder. She seemed to be fighting whatever she was dreaming about, and the blankets were keeping her trapped. Harry grabbed the pillows that were on top of her. Her arms were nearly swaddled against her body with the blanket wrapped around her and pulled up to her neck tightly.

Harry flicked the light on his nightstand so he could get a better look at her.

The poor thing was glistening with sweat around her hairline, tears were leaking from her closed eyes, and that space between her brows was cinched together like she was in pain. “Oh, no,” he murmured and crawled out of his side and came around to her side. “Hey,” he cooed. He crouched in front of her and began tossing the pillows to the floor. He unraveled the blankets from around her. “Lovie,” he murmured. He called her lovie at the start of the evening and he couldn’t stop. He loved to call her beautiful and enjoyed how readily she answer to it. But something about her sweet face just made the word ‘lovie’ roll right off his tongue. It was effortless; like it was the only thing he should call her. Once she was without the swaddle of blankets, and the pillows attacking her, she was practically gasping for air in her sleep. “Lovie, you’re having a bad dream,” he gave her a good shake causing her eyes to flash open. Harry gazed at her in alarm. She squeezed her eyes shut trying to hide from Harry. But it was far too late for that. “Are y’okay, beautiful?”

She ignored him. Her breathing evening out. She turned away from him. “Lovie...”

“Would you stop calling me cute names?” She asked, the exasperation thick in her voice. But she was still distraught. He could tell. He was quiet for a minute letting her work through whatever just happened. “Please don’t tell anyone about this,” she whispered.

He blinked. He felt so sad she believed so little of him. “I would never tell anyone anything ‘bout you—”

“You whisper about me all the time,” she snipped.

His mouth fell open in disbelief. “Lovie, you have t’know I don’t whisper anything ‘bout you. M’telling them how pretty I think y’are and how you’ll get all flustered that m’whispering nothing ‘bout you. They know I adore you and think nothing short of wonderful things ‘bout you. Y’seriously don’t get it do you?” He felt so utterly annoyed by her, himself. He thought she was lovely and yes; she was fun to annoy but he would never say anything about her that hurt her reputation. He was sad she thought he would. It never made sense for her to dislike him so intently. He never really cared and turned it into a joke. But knowing she truly didn’t like him made his heart heavy.

She refused to look at him. It was silent for several beats. Harry stared at the back of her t-shirt, her shoulders trying to find an easy rhythm. He wanted her to explain it. Right now. In the middle of the night when they were stuck in a small hotel room together. “Why did you trap me in the slide?” She whispered.

Of all the things he expected her to say, that was not one of them. “What?” He shook his head.

“In Year 2? You and your friends trapped me in the slide, now I’m embarrassingly claustrophobic. If I have anything covering my face, I have a meltdown. It feels like I can’t breathe. If someone...holds me the wrong way for too long, I get overwhelmed. It’s ruined so many relationships and it’s...” she sniffled, her shoulders staggering a bit at the effort.

He frowned. “Is that why you hate me?” He whispered. She didn’t answer him. “Lovie, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Well, they blamed you.”

He sighed. “So, all this time you’ve hated me, and it wasn’t even my doing?” He asked.

It seemed to appeal to the logical part of her brain. She was still for a moment longer, her breathing evening out. But then she rolled to her other side and stared at Harry. He hated the tears that stained her cheeks. That little crease between her eyebrows. He reached out and pressed his fingers there to smooth it out and she let him. It didn’t even bother him that she hadn’t liked him for so long.

Her lips rolled into her mouth as she thought over the last twenty-something years of their lives. It may not have bothered Harry but now it bothered her. “Why have you liked me even though I’m so...crabby toward you?”

He smiled excitedly. Like he was getting a Christmas present or told he won a raffle. “What isn’t there t’like ‘bout you, beautiful?” His hand cupped her cheek and his thumb gently rubbed at the stain of salt on her cheek. The back of her head was warm with sweat and if it wasn’t so late at night, she would feel more self-conscious.

“You’re a glutton for punishment.”

It was progress though because she didn’t push his hand away from her face. “Can I get back on the bed? I won’t touch you, but I don’t want you t’have the pillows and blankets attack you.”

“You can touch me,” she mumbled.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Oh yeah?” He rose from the floor to head back to his side of the bed.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I hate you.”

“I don’t think y’do, actually,” he said smugly.

“Are you going to annoy me the entire time?”

Harry turned off his bedside lamp and crawled under the sheet. “Probably.”

She sighed; he imagined her pretty eye roll the way she always did. Harry put his arm behind his head, closed his eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. “You really didn’t trap me in there?” She asked.

Harry turned to his side and looked at the shadow outline of her staring up at the ceiling. He wanted to reach out and trace the shape of her profile, follow it down her arm and hold her hand. “Even as a six-year-old, lovie, I couldn’t hurt you. If...I knew...I would have gotten y’out of there so fast,” he promised. “Poor baby,” he murmured and bravely reached out and grabbed her hand. She didn’t pull from him. She let his fingers fit between the spaces of hers, gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t know why you were mad,” he shrugged.

“You were really just going to let me hate you for the rest of our life?”

“Hate and love are very close together in the brain,” he said knowingly. “Given y’said the rest of our life,” he smiled excitedly, “I had a feeling y’couldn’t keep it up forever. And I’d wait forever for you, beautiful.” He sounded so arrogant she wanted to hate him just to spite him. But she couldn’t argue with him. It was exhausting hating him. Being in the hotel room with him—especially when he was in a towel—was ruining her grumpy front. Even with sleep still on her brain, she couldn’t help but think about how gentle he was with her and her anxious mind. He was so utterly accommodating and kind to her. He would have slept on the floor if she asked. But she rather enjoyed the feel of his fingers holding hers. “Do you have nightmares a lot?” He asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She shook her head. “Not anymore...Only when I get all twisted like that. I usually sleep better with a weighted blanket to help my anxiety about it. It also keeps me in place, mostly. I’ve had a lot of therapy to help cope with it and the blanket usually helps but obviously y’can’t really travel with a fifteen-pound blanket.”

“Can you snuggle?” He asked.

She blinked at the darkness in front of her. “Can I what?”

“Can you snuggle with someone?” He repeated.

She bit the inside of her lip. “As long as my face isn’t covered,” she muttered. “But it’s definitely been a problem in past relationships if that’s what you’re asking me ab—”

Harry had his arms looping around her and he pulled her toward him so quickly, she barely had time to process. His body spooned behind her, one arm snug beneath her neck and the other draped around the front of her hips. Her heart rate had to be approaching a hundred and fifty. “Is this alright, beautiful?” He murmured into the back of her hair. She was speechless, truly. Harry holding her like...like she didn’t just have a major meltdown. Like he adored her still. “Lovie?” He said, nearly releasing her when she didn’t answer. Worried that her heart rate was too high—he could practically feel it through her back pressed to him. Maybe this was too much.

But right as he started to pull away, her arm pressed against Harry’s. She sighed softly. “No...m’fine,” her voice was quiet.

“Are y’sure? I don’t want t’upset you,” he promised. “Been dreaming ‘bout snuggling with you... but not at the expense of your comfort or anxiety,” he assured her.

“You dream about cuddling with me?”

“Among other things,” he spoke to the back of her hair, his lips smiling against her head.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“I really didn’t think y’could hate me forever, lovie.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. It was the first time she ever apologized to him. His heart skipped a beat.

“I know, beautiful. How would y’have known, though? I wish y’told me, but I know why y’didn’t.”

More silence. Harry’s bare stomach was touching her t-shirt, his legs were crooked up against the back of hers. They fit like puzzle pieces. She bit the inside of her lip feeling exhaustion pull over her mind. How was she supposed to sleep knowing Harry was sleeping right next to her?

“Good night, lovie,” he murmured.

She sighed, relaxing, and drifting to sleep almost immediately.

*

The first day of the conference went by quickly with not much to really show for it. Harry enjoyed it immensely and had a thousand new ideas that he suggested to her over their lunch together. She enjoyed it as well but after her night snuggled up to Harry nothing else seemed remotely important.

“Hey, lovie?” Harry said, trying to retrieve her attention. “Did y’have plans this afternoon? M’gonna catch up with a friend,” he nodded toward another table. The idea of Harry leaving her alone actually saddened her, but of course...they’d have the night.

Unless the friend was a girl. In which case he very well could not come back to their shared room. She nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Have fun,” she encouraged.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Keep the bed warm for me, yeah?” He winked at her as he pulled away.

She thought maybe killing him would still be an option.

She perused the little picturesque street taking a whole bunch of pictures and stopping in nearly every shop on the street and making a purchase in almost every single one. It was actually really nice. Not too hot, not too cold. She even sort of wished Harry had gone with her on her little adventure. She thought he would have liked some of the shops as much as she did.

It was precisely when she wished Harry had gone with her that she realized she really liked him. All this time.

Maybe he was right, and her brain mistook her affection for him as hatred. She wasn’t ready to say love yet. Even if her subconscious was screaming about how lovely he was.

Even last night when Harry was comforting and gentle about her phobia. He didn’t make her feel bad...in fact he made her feel normal and wonderful. The new information about the slide was a revelation. She had spent so many years with ill-harbored feelings toward Harry. It seemed wasteful after last night. He was kind, understanding, attractive—

She was not in love with him.

She couldn’t be, right?

He was annoying. Even if he wasn’t whispering about her, he was still making her feel grumpy. The constant gag gifts and deliveries were vexing beyond compare.

But those dimples when he smiled? They could undo all those negative emotions she felt. She was certain that there was some pheromone or chemical released in the air when he smiled. One that made her mind momentarily forget that he had been the cause of the slide thing.

However, that wasn’t true anymore.

So...

No. It’s like meeting someone for the first time. You don’t love him.

Not when he called her beautiful or lovie. Not when he openly flirted with her or held her against his warm body in the middle of the night and kept the nightmares away. She did not love him.

But maybe she just really, really, really, really, liked him and wanted to spend all her extra time with him now and show him the little shop she found because she smelled three different kinds of soap that she thought he would enjoy.

Obviously, that wasn’t love.

She looked more like some shopping bag monster than girl, when she made her way into the hotel elevator. Harry was already in the room when she got back. “Have fun?” He asked, putting the new file he brought with him and his pencil aside. His smile was so bright she really wondered how she could have ignored him for so long.

“Did…you catch up with your friend?” She asked. She was gone for almost three hours, she worried that she would come back to find Harry with someone, or someone in the shower...

Or in our bed. One part of her mind was grumpy at the thought. Not our bed. The one brain cell left on the rational side of her mind shouted back.

Harry began untangling her wrists and fingers from the bags she held while her brain had its own conversation. The bags left angry red marks on her skin. He nodded, placing the bags on the floor. “Yeah, jus’ had a quick stop at the pub for a drink,” he gently massaged the inside of her wrists. “I missed you,” he said cutely. She stared at him almost suspiciously. Like maybe all of this was a trick. Her distrust seemed palpable because he frowned. “I did, beautiful. Really missed you,” he brought her wrist to his lips and pressed a kiss on the soft inside skin. She missed him too. Even before she went to the shops, she was dreading leaving his side, but she wouldn’t tell him that. Her face must have softened a bit because the left side of his face turned up in a gorgeous half smile. It made her wonder how Harry had decided on editing and publishing and not modeling. “Would y’like t’get dinner with me?” He asked.

“Like a date?” She blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Yes, lovie. Like a date,” he rolled his eyes.

She frowned. “I don’t really have anything...date-worthy to wear.”

“Well, y’could go naked, but they might throw y’out.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Y’look beautiful now. I’d take y’out in the sexy pajamas y’wore last night.”

She wondered briefly if Harry had ever been hit in the head over the years and suffered irrevocable brain damage. “Sexy?”

“Your leggings?” He smiled mischievously. “M’almost jealous of ‘em touching all of your legs.”

Definitely hit in the head.

“Can I just...have a few minutes to touch up?” She asked, ignoring his comment.

“Course, beautiful. Not that y’need it.” He was good. She would give him that. He was very good at making her feel gooey and pretty. Harry said all the right flirty things. Dinner would be fun, and she was quite hungry.

She exited the bathroom after touching up her makeup and switching out her casual business blouse for a tank top with a cardigan. She swapped her slacks for a pair of jeans. The flats she wore stayed to complete her outfit.

“Will you marry me?” He sighed dreamily as she exited the bathroom.

He was going to give her an aneurysm.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Ve’been waiting for this date for...” he smiled. “Oh, I don’t know, lovie. Least since university.”

Harry had to have a death wish. “You’ve...liked me? Even though I was mean to you?”

“A glutton for punishment, as it were,” he winked bringing her words back.

She grabbed her little cross body bag and Harry followed her out their hotel room door. Since the slide incident, she had been to at least four different therapists to help alleviate the worry and fear she had. In all honesty, she was much better than she used to be. The airplane was a little daunting during takeoff but that could have been due to a fear of flying, not claustrophobia. Her small attic or the cramped closet in the hall of her place didn’t bother her any longer. Being on a train in public transport rush hour—even when the train came to a standstill in the middle of the dark tunnel—didn’t really bother her anymore. It was only when her face was covered for too long without her ability to get out quickly, sleeping, plagued with nightmares, or swaddled in her blankets too tightly that she felt the waves of anxiety suffocating her like that day on the slide.

Or when the elevator clanged to a stop and jolted her so hard, she nearly fell into Harry.

It was three seconds of pure silence before she realized what happened. Before Harry realized.

“Shit.” Harry whispered.

“Oh no,” her pulse quickened. Her head started to ache, and it felt like the elevator was suddenly the size of an Amazon box and she was crammed inside. It took her a moment to realize the wheezing was coming from her.

“Hey, hey,” Harry quickly grabbed her shoulders. Her eyes welled with tears, and she was heaving on her breath. One of his hands reached for the emergency button causing a monotone ring to take over all sounds in the small space; the volume was louder than her heavy breathing. “Lovie, tell me what t’do,” he begged. “M’sorry,” he whispered. She felt lightheaded and scared. So scared she obviously was having trouble breathing. She worried that she would pass out right into Harry’s arms.

“M’scared,” she croaked.

“I know, beautiful,” he squeezed her shoulders. He held her away at arm’s length afraid to bring her closer in case it would make matters worse. All he wanted to do was wrap her close and console her. “But...s’okay,” he promised. “Really, s’okay.” It wasn’t; he wasn’t trying to make light of her fear either. He knew how bad it was because he had spent the last twenty years waiting for this moment. For her to say she didn’t hate him. For the last ten, he longed for a date. One measly dinner to change her mind. But the broken elevator was going to ruin it all. Honestly, that didn’t even matter to him. All of it didn’t matter. He had to try something to ease her worry. Something to help her scared mind. “I would never let anything happen t’you. Would never let anything hurt you,” he was gazing right into her eyes. He definitely didn’t cure her, but she could feel how devastated Harry felt. He meant it; he wouldn’t let anything harm her as much as he could possibly control. “Deep breaths? Does that help?” He asked. She nodded. She tried but it was hard, the air she sucked in and released was shaky and not very deep. It was hard to think about breathing deeply when all she could think about was dying in this tin box. “Easy, lovie. S’okay,” he squeezed her shoulders again.

The alarm was plain on his face, and she wondered if he wanted to hold her. She wanted to be held but wasn’t sure it would work. Her stomach felt so knotted. Thought maybe she would throw up and she couldn’t imagine a worse first date with Harry than throwing up in an enclosed space. She sank to the floor, her legs scrunched up so she could rest her forehead against her knees. Harry crouched in front of her, clearly still nervous and unsure of what to do. The one part of her brain that still had some rational thought left thought it was a travesty that she would lose Harry from this. She thought if she made it out, she would have to just go home. She couldn’t share a bed with him.

“They’re probably getting someone t’help right now, beautiful. S’okay,” he placed his hands on her ankles. It seemed like the safest option. He was so mortified this happened. To her of all people. The ringing of the elevator seemed to die down with the ringing in her ears. “Lovie?” He asked; he felt anxious that she was breathing so hard. She looked at him, her vision blurred by the tears. “Tell me what t’do,” he begged. He felt so useless. So worried that she was going to pass out or have a meltdown that she would inextricably link to him and never forgive him. After he just made some progress.

He thought about her six-year-old self. Trapped in that slide, her little brain all terrified. He wondered if that little version of herself still existed inside her. It hurt him to think about that poor little girl scared to pieces. He leaned forward and pressed his lips on her forehead and kept pressed there for a moment. That moment in time seemed to stretch on for eternity. But, as he kept his lips on her skin, he noticed her breathing slowly calmed. Her muscles seemed to relax.

“That feels nice,” she murmured almost serenely. He smirked against her skin. Slowly, he pulled away. Her eyes watched Harry with worry, but he slid beside her before he moved too far away. The shaky breathing picked up just a little. Her heart still fluttered with anxiety. She rested her cheek on her knee facing him.

“I...I could...do it again if y’want. If y’think it would help,” he suggested, turning toward her a little more head on. She lifted her head, it felt so achy and heavy. Harry cupped her face and pressed his lips on her skin again. She sighed softly. The ache seemed to ease at his touch.

Ugh. Harry was medicine that she didn’t know she needed. He dragged his lips across her skin, peppering her hairline with soft little presses. She wondered if he would always be this gentle with her.

She still wasn’t sure how she felt about her mind thinking about things like always with Harry. She was fairly certain she would die of humiliation the moment her brain returned to normal once they got off the elevator. There wouldn’t be an always after this. Harry would think she was nuts or ridiculous. There wouldn’t even be a sometimes.

 “Are y’okay, lovie?” He hummed against her skin. “As y’can be right now?”

She nodded, feeling utterly safe with Harry beside her. She enjoyed the way his hands felt on her skin. His lips on her face. It was too bad she didn’t know all these years he had nothing to do with her childhood trauma. She thought she really could be in love with him.

*

It took an hour, but they were finally freed of the metal tin. The moment she had fresh air, she felt infinitely better. Harry could see it on her face and in her body language. She was entirely at ease. Back to normal. After a flurry of questions and the hotel offering a few extra nights, they left for a nearby restaurant. Harry held her hand, fingers twisted together. He didn’t say much, because he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say after that. He knew she had to have felt so exposed and vulnerable.

“We...don’t have to go out, if you don’t want,” she mumbled.

Harry frowned and stopped the pair of them in the middle of the sidewalk. “Do y’want t’go back?” He asked.

She bit the inside of her lip. “I’m sorry.”

He blinked in surprise. “For what, beautiful?”

“For being crazy?” Did he forget what just happened?

“Crazy?” He repeated in surprise. “Lovie, s’not your fault. M’glad you’re okay.”

“You’re not...you don’t think I’m...weird?”

His heart felt such sadness for her. “No, lovie. Course not. Think you’re lovely. I was so scared y’were going to hurt yourself in all the worry. M’so glad you’re okay. M’sorry y’had to—why are y’crying, beautiful? Are you alright?” He asked, her eyes spilling with tears. He thought he might cry right with her. Harry had a good six or seven inches on her and he bent his knees a bit so he could be eyelevel with her teary gaze. His hands cupped her face just like on the elevator and he looked pained that she was crying.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t know why she was apologizing. But he let her and pulled her toward him, careful not to cover her face with his embrace. She sobbed into his chest. Harry kissed the top of her head. “S’okay, beautiful. Don’t know why you’re apologizing. But s’okay.”

It felt so embarrassingly awful that she and Harry would never be.

*

They ordered takeout, had a drink while they waited—barely speaking as they did, and headed back to the hotel. Of course, they took the stairs. She didn’t even feel like eating as she sat across from Harry on the balcony. He ate his veggie stir fry quietly while she poked at the pasta in her takeout box. “That’s pasta, you remember?” He smirked at her. “You’re supposed t’eat it,” he encouraged. Trying to joke so she would feel a little better.

She couldn’t even muster an eye roll for him. Ending before they started...after a whirlwind of one night and day of the convention seemed utterly unfair.

“Lovie?” He asked quietly. She didn’t respond. She was worried she would cry. “Beautiful,” he murmured setting his food aside, crouched beside her seat and pushed her food to the side as well.

“I...I think I really like you,” she whispered.

He smiled. “Well finally, lovie. But y’don’t have t’cry ‘bout it, m’right here,” he gave her knee a gentle squeeze. Like he was consoling her.

She shook her head. “S’not fair to you or all that time I wasted. And I’m so weird.”

“You’re not weird, lovie,” he promised.

“Yes, I am, Harry.”

He shook his head. “Y’seriously going t’continue pushing me away when m’literally on my knees in front of you, beautiful? I don’t care if y’weird or not. I don’t care if y’cry on elevators or if y’sing in the shower. You’re m’favorite person t’annoy and I want t’do it, knowing I can kiss you after every joke,” he looked up at her eyes from his crouched position. “Y’don’t have t’waste any more time, lovie. M’right here.”

She bit the inside of her cheek, worried she was going to say no or something just because she was so nervous about all of it. It was twenty years of disliking Harry (well, not really, but yes really). That was twenty years of hating small spaces of getting nervous in crowds and explaining to boyfriends that she couldn’t attend some events even when she wanted to.

But Harry didn’t care.

And she believed him.

She should have begged him to leave her alone because it wasn’t fair to him, and she truly believed that. Harry was so much kinder than she ever, ever imagined. Now he was right, of course. He was right here. Right in front of her. Literally on his knees telling her he wanted her. Despite everything. So instead of opening her mouth where she might say no, she nodded slowly.

He sighed with relief and wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her toward him. He carefully squeezed her rubbing his hand up and down her back so soothingly she wanted to cry some more. Harry had the gentlest touch, and it was melting her—inside and out. She sighed into his chest, arms wrapping back around him. She even pressed her face right into his T-shirt and didn’t feel the creeping sensation of doom surrounding her. Instead, all she could smell was the scent of Harry’s laundry detergent and the very essence of Harry.

“Thank you, beautiful,” he sighed into the top of her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. He pushed her away from his body but kept her in between his arms. He really loved touching her face. “Can’t wait t’join you in the shower, now,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to quit, that much was certain. “You should be better than that detachable shower head,” she murmured.

He stared at her fully for at least half a minute, unable to speak. He cleared his throat after what seemed like a lifetime and then kissed the center of her forehead followed by the tip of her nose. Right before he kissed her lips for the first time in their lives, he whispered, “that I have t’see, lovie.”

--

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[sarcasticscribbles]

Quick Sasha the Archivist ramble because twt had me go off: I do this AU as a roleflip but with the same arc so: Sasha - Jon Tim - Martin Sasha gets the archivist promotion instead of Jon, and will be (mainly) eye aligned. Jon's only an assistance with Martin and Tim.

Sasha is marked by the Spiral pre institute (instead of Jon and Web), and The Distortion and Web switch roles, and Helen will replace Annabelle in s5. Wanting a world with lack of control contra a world in control.

Martin gets taunted by Lonely and Peter Lukas s2/3 esp when notjon is revealed and kabooms Peter's flat complex at the end of s3 in revenge of Jon dying (alone, tryna put a lonely spin on it, maybe something with his mum too). Jmart is canon s1, but they weren't public about it, and Sasha only find out s5 in the safe house listening to old tapes, similar to Jon hearing about the TimSasha hookup.

The archives get taken over by Nikola s4 (in a very convincing business suit) and makes Tim her right-hand man while Sasha is in The End coma. s4 is stranger and Tim practically gets taken, lured in by false hope of his brother and Sasha has to pull him out and later on end the world accidentally in their safe house. S5 is pretty much the same, with occasionally Annabelle visits (instead of Helen).

Melanie gets corrupted by Slaughter s5 like Daisy did with hunt. Melanie would have to be killed s5 and Georgie, basically death avatar would be there with her until the end. Wtfgs are still girlfriends for the record, Basira would be the new cult leader and Daisy would act as a bodyguard(maybe still in her hunt shape). Sasha would still betray the plan and kill Elias herself to be the pupil of the eye. Leaving Tim to kill her and travel to their Somewhere Else (maybe the same as Jon and Martin; however, Jon and Sasha are blind, which is their happy ending).

I might wanna write a better outline/ story with this but I find the role switching a fun idea. I know I break my own rules here and there but it's just for fun

[grandestheart]

𝐓𝐢𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐚𝐮 𝐡𝐜𝐬

@sophiesonlinediary & @emelia07

after averys mum died she wanted to work as hard as possible to make her proud.

avery worked her ass off in school and it paid off, she got a full scholarship to a prestigious boarding school

When she arrived at the school, the head boy (grayson) was waiting to tour her

because he’s an arrogant asshole he’s immediately suspicious of her

on there tour of the science labs, she met xander, in the middle of him exploding some chemicals or smth

grayson introduces xander as his littlest brother, this is when Grayson has four brothers, one of which graduated a while ago

they finish up there tour and the headmaster gives Avery her timetable and dorm number.

On her way to her dorm, she takes it upon herself to do some more exploring

she visits the biggest of many libraries at the school, its probably bigger than the whole of her old school.

As she wanders the halls of the library she can feel someone’s eyes on her the whole time.

eventually she looks up to the second story of the library, and locks eye contact with Jameson Hawthorne

he jumps from the second floor onto the first and walks towards her

“so….your the new girl, my brother bets you won’t last a day here, but I give you at least a week.”

Avery mainly ignored him, she new she wouldn’t fit in from the minute she stepped foot on the grounds.

When she got back to her door she found a plate of scones and a note, welcome to heights country day!! - the living breathing, rube goldberg machine aka. Xander hawthorne

how he found her room number, she’ll never know.

a quick google search reveals that the Hawthornes were actually the grandsons of one of the richest men in America, Tobias Hawthorne.

-.-

I am actually planning to turn this into a series so let me know if you like it <3

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Heyyy can you please write something for Nico x male reader where Nico has seen reader around camp and reader is friendly and always laughing and talking with everyone. And Nico develops a crush on reader and eventually he decides to confess to reader when he sees them in the woods. Fluffy mainly but like a little spicey at the end if u do that stuff? :)

hey there bestie, let's pretend it hasn't been two months. this fic is also for @golden-boy-muda 's request for nico x transmasc reader <3

I couldn't find an idea in my empty ol head for this request but then I was looking for old oil painting wallpapers for my phone and now you have this incredibly sappy 3.2k of art references [I advise you keep another tab open for cross-referencing if you want the fUlL eXpErIeNcE]

Oil on Canvas--- Nico di Angelo x transmasc reader [3.2k] »»————-　★　————-««

Nico definitely isn’t a stalker, he understands boundaries [once Jason explains them to him, of course], but he might have a bit of a staring problem. 

Sometimes he’s just eating gluten free waffles with Hazel in the dining pavilion and ends up watching you shove your siblings around and plait your little sister's hair so it doesn’t get in her face when she goes Pegasus riding.

He spooned some blueberries onto his plate. 

It’s not his fault.

It’s yours, if anything. What is he supposed to do apart from feel like there’s moths beneath his ribcage when you pose, your nose scrunched, up for photos with Drew’s polaroid camera that’s covered with inappropriate stickers? 

Hazel elbowed him meaningfully in the side when he couldn’t help but grin because Holy Hades, a single person shouldn’t be able to look that much like the painting Ophelia [by friedrich heyser, to be specific], just because they wore a green camp shirt and a pearl necklace. 

Maybe it was his fault that he was comparing you to beautiful paintings. 

He scooped the blueberries onto his half eaten waffle and reached for the maple syrup Hazel had finished drowning her breakfast in. 

The Stoll brother’s mortal mum had sent a stack of paintings from art galleries all over the world last Christmas, and they’d let him pick out a few of the older more poetic ones that didn’t have enough blood and guts for their taste. 

Now the oil paintings of lakes and birds and crying angels and… mainly cats, actually, hung around the dark walled Cabin he slept in. 

Your laugh when you threw strawberries at Kayla and Austin while they worked in the infirmary reminded him of Angel [carl von marr, of course] and he felt like Chat a difficult catch [charles van den eycken] when you walked right past him without even glancing back.

So he’d made peace with watching from afar how you would forget daily to put sunscreen on but somehow always remembered to wear this pair of white crocheted gloves that looked like cat paws. 

On a completely irrelevant note, Nico was learning to crochet. 

Hazel made eye contact with him again when he looked from you to her, and he plugged his ears and glared before she started kicking him in the shins and begging him to pluck up the courage to walk over and even just make eye contact. 

Not that he didn’t want to. 

He may have lined up in his catalog of daydreams, this scenario where you both went down to the beach. Any beach, really. You’d collect shells and eat popcorn and grapes and lemonade and squish sand between your toes and pick up crabs with him. 

PROMENADE ON THE BEACH [Charles Atamian, obviously].

There was another scenario where he’d take you to the farmers market. It had the biggest bouquets of flowers, and rows upon rows of fruits and vegetables and incense and beaded jewelry. 

When he was laying in bed underneath the fluffy zebra patterned duvets that Piper forced him to use, mainly because they matched the dark reds of the cushions and browns of the bookshelves and antique lamps in the cabin so well, you were walking down the rows of little stores with him.

You were holding his hand with those soft cat paw gloves and you liked the feel of his rings [he’d read that people liked rings in a book, somewhere] and you’d filled the Studio Ghibli tote bag you had with berries. 

He’d watched most of the movies after he saw your bag. He liked Arriety the best. 

Clarisse stomped past the Hades table, leaving bloody footprints no one asked about, and smacked him in the back of his head. Nico went back to eating his waffles and daydreaming about your smile. 

In the farmers market you would sniff candles and never buy them because Hazel had far too many for all of her spells and the such that he would never run out. And what was Hazel’s was his and what was his was hers, meaning that what was Hazel’s was yours. 

Because Nico would give everything he owned, even his favorite jacket, for you to look his way. 

And he would buy you flowers, whichever were your favorite. 

Maybe the ones from the painting Hazel forced him to take because ‘you can’t just not hang a painting that literally is you, Neeks’. 

Italian Girl with Flowers. Joaquin Sorolla. 1886. 

He didn’t see the resemblance.

But it didn’t really matter, because he’d get to watch you looking at all the cool things for sale and then he’d take you to the best gelato he’d found so far [he was making a list] or just use the shadows, and take you to a proper gelato shop. Whatever you wanted to do, really.

Nico blinked. He huffed, mainly at himself, and stabbed his waffle. It fell apart on the fork.

“Why’re you angry?”

He looked up from his plate, to Hazel. She was sitting opposite him with a mustache made of orange juice. “...I’m not.”

“You’re not supposed to be pushing down your emotions, remember?” she said sternly, and started picking the green bits off a strawberry. She was eating as many berries as she could, since she wasn’t allowed lollies anymore. The perks of braces. 

Nico looked away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re thinking about the cat glove girl, aren’t you?” she asked with a smirk.

“Cat glove boy, remember?” he muttered, and took a bite of his waffle, wiping squished blueberries off his chin.

Hazel’s golden eyes widened, “Oh yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” he said, and was grateful for the excuse to peek your way. You were eating toast. Very pretty-ily. He felt his face heat up.

Hazel perked up, a mischievous grin he didn’t appreciate on her face. “Okay! I’ll go apologize to your boyfriend then-”

Nico stared at her. Why was she like this? She actually went to stand up, and then he yanked her sleeve, pulling her back down to the table. “No! Don’t just… you can’t… stop!”

“You didn’t deny that he’s your boyfriend,” Jason chuckled, sitting down next to Hazel. 

“I hate you all,” Nico said. 

It was torture. 

He felt like Sleepy time potion [Vanessa Stockhard], stuck in the middle of your loveliness, unable to do anything except stare and hope that his face wasn’t too as red as the mushroom he was sitting on. 

In the painting. 

Not in real life. 

Obviously. 

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico stared down at the hat in his lap.

He’d done it. He’d actually finished one of the hundreds of projects he’d started in Piper’s efforts to find him a hobby that wasn’t sitting on the fences of cemeteries or standing in line at Mcdonalds. 

He had lots of other hobbies, he just… couldn’t come up with them when she was arguing with him. 

So they’d gone through writing, painting, records, sleeping, which he excelled in, and then crocheting. None had lasted very long, but he may have had an idea half way through trying to stab Piper with the crocheting stick.

And now he had a white bucket hat with cat ears.

He threw it to the end of his bed, and hid underneath his duvet. Fuck. 

Repose. Malcolm Liepke. 1953. 

What on Olympus was he supposed to do about the way he wanted to hold you so badly he felt like throwing up and tearing his hair out?

He lay underneath in the pocket of stuffy darkness for a moment, before sitting up, untangling his blankets and teddies from him, and then standing. He may have just had the greatest idea anyone had ever thought of before.

Hazel was still in the shower, singing, most likely, so he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack that was actually just a skeleton, and then stomped out of his cabin, the stupid hat in his fist.

His heart was beating wildly. Stupid heart. 

The Wedding Dress. Fred Ellwell. 1911.

He rubbed his face and groaned at the sky. The stars were just peeking out, but it was still pink and yellow, and the sun hadn’t dipped yet. It was hidden by the trees he was trudging through, though. 

Fuck.

His chest was hurting. 

Nico scrunched up the stupid perfect crocheted hat that just had to stupidly perfectly match your stupid perfect cat gloves because Nico was stupidly perfectly obsessed with you. 

You, who was stupidly perfect.

Fuck. 

Psyche Weeping. Kinuko Y Craft. 1995.

He trod on twigs that broke underneath his boots and weaved through the tree’s that slowly became more and more laden with hanging pendants and wind chimes and ruins carved into the bark.

He stepped over a thin stream. A frog croaked at him like it was dying. As if it could ever feel like it was dying. As if it could ever fall in love.

Nico groaned at the sky again. 

“Just let it all out.”

He turned, and glared. “Do you mind?”

“Yes, actually,” Lou Ellen said, raising a purple eyebrow. It matched the undersides of her curly hair. She pointed to the cabin concealed in shadows and moss and stones behind her. “This is my house. And you are yelling very loudly.”

“I’m not yelling,” Nico argued. “I’m groaning.”

She stared at him for a second. She rolled her eyes. “Just come in, what do you need?”

“I need a spell. Or a charm. Or hex,” Nico said, following her through the wooden double doors. A wind chime tinkled even though the air was still. There were a few bunks lined up against the wall to one side. “Or a magic thing. I don’t care which one.” 

The rest of the cabin was filled with small coffin shaped pet beds and empty pink soda cans and voodoo dolls hanging from the roof and rugs with cats wearing strawberry hats on the fluffy material and misty crystal balls. 

Lou Ellen lent back on a desk stacked high with papers and paperweights that were actually jars filled with things. “Okay. I have three rules. I don’t kill people, and I don’t make people fall in love.”

“...And?”

“I’ll break both if it’ll be fun?”

Nico frowned. “No. Aren’t you supposed to say you won’t bring people back from the dead? That’s always the third rule.”

She squinted at him. “Uh…no. I send those people to you.” 

Nico squinted back at her, sticking his tongue out. He fiddled with the stupid perfect hat and looked around. There was just more creepy things and stuffed animals. “Whatever. I need your help.”

“With what?”

“I need you to… like,” Nico started. He sighed. He looked away. 

This was awful. 

He was not about to admit that he might be in love, even if it was to reverse the feelings in the first place with whatever heart ripping out brain altering magic was necessary. 

The Apollo cabin would find out through the witch in less than thirty seconds. He would never live it down. 

Nico groaned again. “Oh for fucks sake, do you need me to fic your voicebox or something?” Lou Ellen hissed. 

Nico glared at her. He groaned again, and then whirled around and stomped out of the weird mossy mushroom cabin. “Nevermind!”

“Fine! Have it your way!...weird little emo.”

Nico glared at the frog croaking at him, and kept walking through the forest. 

He followed the little stream through the woods until he could hear wind chimes or Taylor Swift’s latest album anymore. 

The little stream widened into a proper stream, filled with a lot more frogs. Why were there so many frogs? He nearly stood on a green one leaping across the path. Stupid frog.

Nico stuffed his hands into his pockets, along with the hat. He was tempted to just toss it into the river. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of the silly feelings that felt like the biggest things in the world to him and his silly head full of thoughts about your lips.

Maybe the frogs could use the hat as a home.

“Here froggie… Come here… I said, come here... No I am not taking a tone with you!” 

Nico froze. 

Fuck. He took a deep breath, probably too loudly. He glanced to the side. 

Of course you were catching frogs, knee deep in a river.

You looked over, making eye contact, and Nico realized the moths underneath his ribcage were turning into bats. You squinted at him, hands on your hips, while water swirled around and leaves drifted from the trees above. A bucket was wedged between two rocks next to you.

A frog jumped out of it and landed near your leg, on a lillypad. 

“Look Albert,” you said, turning to the frog. “It’s a little Victorian ghost.”

“...I’m Italian,” Nico said quietly. He stared at you. He couldn’t help it. Wow. Fuck. Leo was right. He really was pathetic. “And I’m not a ghost.”

“Okay, Victorian ghost.” 

Nico stared at you. Fuck.

After that exchange, he should be able to hate you. Right? Right. He now resented you, and the moths turned bats would stop clawing at his chest and he would go back to having a normal life. 

Right?

Wrong.

You squinted at Nico, and then slowly turned to Albert. “I think the cute Victorian ghost is having a stroke.”

Nico blinked once, gulped, and then marched forward through the cold water and frogs, his shoes squelching loudly. Gods. This was so embarrassing. But you thought he was cute, even if you also thought he was a dead english boy, so he would be content with dying from embarrassment. 

He shoved the stupid perfect hat into your stupid perfect hands.

And then left in about 0.3 seconds. 

»»————-　★　————-««

You stared down at your pancakes. Why were they so gray looking? Had someone poisoned them? You figured that it would be a pretty good way to die, and tipped extra maple syrup onto them before you dug in. 

To counterbalance the poison, of course.

You scratched at the mosquito bite underneath the strap of your binder. It had flowers embroidered into it. Your binder. Not the mosquito bite.

One of your siblings across from you kicked at your shin, probably on purpose, but you continued to eat your odd tasting pancakes and picked blueberry grit off your white cat paw gloves. They were your favorite gloves. 

They also matched your new hat. The new hat that the cute Victorian but actually Italian ghost boy had given you before he teleported away with whatever dark magic he had stored in all that goth-ness.

You tossed a blueberry at Clarisse when she walked past and tried to bash you over the head. 

She wasn’t allowed to ruin your new hat.

You turned to see her flicking the blueberry over at someone else, and your eyes flicked past that too. Now way. You stood up, but you’d lost sight of the mess of dark hair when the Hermes cabin barrelled past.

You clambered onto your seat and stood up there. “Oi! Victorian ghost hat boy!”

The dining pavilion went quiet pretty quickly, and everyone turned to the cute guy with a skeleton hoodie and wide eyes. He pointed at himself when you pointed at him, and then went pink. 

Clarisse stuck her arm out so you didn’t faceplant when you jumped down from your seat, and you held onto your new hat as you traipsed across the cracked floor. 

You’d never figured out how that crack had got there. But there were bigger mysteries. 

Like this cute goth. 

His face just pinker when you grabbed his sleeve and tried to tug him out of the entire camp’s curious eyes. A dark skinned girl with a lot of butterfly clips and a Steven Universe t-shirt sent a thumbs up in your direction. 

It was only when you were standing by the low burning fire pit in a patch of daisies did you realize you hadn’t really planned far enough ahead. 

You took off the cat-ear hat and looked down at it. “...Uhm…”

“Sorry,” the goth said quickly, and when you made eye contact he looked away even quicker. “It’s creepy. Boundaries and stuff, I just… saw your gloves.” 

“It’s not creepy,” you argued, putting the hat back on with a grin. He was really cute when he blushed. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, and I have no idea who you are but your eyeliner is really really great and… Holy Hades if you smile like that again can I… please kiss you?”

The goth with no name stared at you, and then nodded about ten times too many. “Yes please. But, uh.. If you’re gonna kiss me, please, maybe don’t get my dad involved.”

“...Wut?”

»»————-　★　————-««

Nico could feel his cheeks growing hotter.

Not because of the sun, specifically, but it was hot and bright in the woods. He’d worn sunscreen though. And forced you to put it on too, once he’d found watermelon scented sunscreen, because you refused to smell gross no matter how sunburnt you would get anyways. 

His face was hot and red because of you. 

You, who was stupidly perfect and also possibly kind of Nico’s stupidly perfect boyfriend. 

“Psst, Victorian ghost boy,” you said with a sing-song voice, quietly, and waved your hand in front of his eyes with your pink, blue, and white painted nails. He blinked. You smiled. “You zoned out again.”

“Sorry,” Nico said, and pulled a daisy out of the ground. He handed it over. “I was thinking about you.”

He hadn’t realized the effect that saying that would have on you, but it was worth it when you opened and closed your mouth like one of the frogs you kept as pets. 

“I.. well, what were you thinking about?”

Nico had played his cards right. He smirked, and you shuffled forwards on the checked picnic blanket Piper had stolen from Drew, who’d probably nicked it from poor unsuspecting Demeter or Iris kid. You knocked over the basket of strawberries too, and then took your bucket hat off and stuffed it in your lap with a grin.

He tilted his head down. You were both following a very well rehearsed script. “...Kissing you?”

You launched yourself forwards then with a laugh, your cat-paw gloved hands landing on either side of his waist and probably squishing some of those strawberries at the same time. 

The sun reflected in your eyes and Nico held the sides of your face as he pressed his lips to yours. 

You kissed back, and once you both stopped smiling widely, you could kiss back. 

Properly. 

He scratched his fingernails, the ones you’d painted rainbow that afternoon after catching more frogs and complaining about sunscreen, along your jaw when you bit down on his bottom lip.

Not as a complaint, certainly not, and you knew that too because you just sat back on your knees between Nico’s lap and tilted your head to fit deeper against Nico’s bruised lips. 

The ones that hadn’t had a single day off since you jumped up in the middle of breakfast with your gluten free waffles you hadn’t realized were gluten free until he had explained it to you later. 

It was intensely crazily unbearably romantic but it also meant whatever cold one of you managed to catch, the other would come down with only minutes later. 

And Nico felt like that smug little cat from Julie Manet’s Auguste Renoir.  

»»————-　★　————-««

[xxellagxx]

LA Lover - introduction

Word count: 467 (sorry I really struggled with this chapter because I needed to figure out how to write the backstory behind y/n Katrina and Katrina going to La while having it make sense ) the next few chapters will be longer.

Pairing: reader x Colby brock

Warnings: none

Definitely proof read I changed it like 60 times

You and Katrina had been friends since elementary school and you were both inseparable. Always with eachover no matter what and as the years went by your friendship only grew stronger and stronger.

Now you was both 18 and had just finished your final year of highschool, which was by far the best school year. Mainly because you started dating a boyfriend Ryan this year (the only boyfriend you had that Katrina approved of, which was a nice change). Every thing seemed perfect.

That was until Katrina told you she was moving to LA to pursue her music career. Don’t get me wrong you couldn’t be happier for her , it’s just that you knew you would really really really miss her.

To celebrate her moving to LA , you and Katrina’s parents organised a big party with all her family and friends . You knew she was going to love it . And it started in.. “Shit! 10 minutes!” You cursed quickly putting on your makeup as fast as possible. You stumbled down the stairs and into your car, zooming to the venue.

“Am I late ?” “Oh no dear, just in time.” Darla (katrinas mum ) smiled, doing some finial touches of the decorations. The venue was buzzing with excitement as more and more people started arriving at the party. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, music, and absolute delicious food Katrinas mum made . And even though it was an amazing party you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions knowing that this was the last time you would see Katrina before she went to LA.

Once the party was over you hugged Katrina tightly, it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel like this was the last time you would see her before she moved. “I’m going to miss you so much” “Promised to keep in touch with me. even when you blow up and become famous” Katrina laughed “I promise.”

That was 2 years ago. And now you are in your last year of university . A lot of things have changed since you last saw Kat. She made new friends in LA and even got a boyfriend. You really missed her, you texted occasionally but it wasn’t the same. You didn’t think you would be able to see her again that was until you got a message from her.

Kat <3: Heyy. I know you have just finished this year at collage and if you have plans it’s totally okay but I was wondering if I could fly you out to LA . You wouldn’t have to pay anything because I can pay for the flight and you could stay with me at my apartment and you can finally meet Sam and my other friends

You: are you kidding ?! OF COURSE

_________________________________________________

Thank you for reading this was only the intro for the story and the first chapter will be posted soon

Let me know if you wanna be in my tag list

Constructive criticism and any feedback is appreciated!!

Thank you for reading

@hc-geralt-23

[satoruzlove]

I AM THINKING SOOO HARD ABOUT MODERN DAY COLLEGE! MIKASA, EREN AND ARMIN!!!! HAVING A FRIEND GROUP W THEM!!!!!

like , okay , eren being that one guy that everyone knows but no one ever really talks to. people smile at him and greet him in the halls but he’s only ever with you, mika and armin between lectures. he’s a sports science major, he’s always at the campus gym or in the library on his laptop doing research. like he’s actually so good at what he’s into. he always has his hair half up, half down, he has a dog tag with his mum’s name on it and he has this wooden bead bracelet he never seems to take off. when he’s nervous [ usually when exam results are being passed out] he’s always fiddling with it. sometimes if he’s REALLY dazed he’ll have his dog tag between his lips and his pupils are all unfocused. he wears a lot of black, mainly heavily distressed jeans, sweats and jumpers. !!! IS A VANS GUY!!!! he draws on the sole of them and has yours, mikasa’s and armin’s names on them. </33333

he’s also the asshole of your group😭 like armin will just be putting on his glasses and eren just takes them and walks, he dead legs mikasa all the time and his favorite hobby is stealing your stationary for no good reason. 😭😭 he also acts like he’s never seen the things he took in his life. he uses armin’s head as an arm rest all the time, he LOVESSSS to ruffle yours and mikasa’s hair all the time, he can actually be pretty touchy. has a habit of fiddling with you guys. a lot of people on campus are like?? what the fuck when hes got an arm around mikasa’s shoulders or if hes got an arm around yours / armin’s cus hes just unconsciously very affectionate </3 bring it up and he’ll throw you.

armin who is a nursing student that i could literally ingest fully. he’s shorter compared to eren, he’s more well known because of how sweet he is and girls LOVEEE HIM. everywhere y’all go girls greet him and compliment his outfit, he’s always so bashful about it and sometimes eren will absolutely RUIN IT LIKE😭😭 “morning armin!!! i love ur hair today!!” “ good morning!! thank u sm urs is pret-“ “ hEYY ARMIN REMEMBER WHEN YOU PISSED THE BED💓💓💓💓” LMAOAOOAOAKAKAKAKAN 😭😭😭 mikasa has slapped his arms so many times bcus armin always feels so embarrassed, he walks away so fast and drags you with him while mikasa scolds him. poor baby. ARMIN’S STYLE!!!!!>>> he wears a lot of graphic tee’s in a more neutral colour, and then a dress shirt over, lots of cargo pants and air forces, specifically the ones with pastel details on them!!! he likes taking your jewellery so you two match a lot , it makes him so happy!!

he’s a grad student , his grades are so good. his gpa is like 3.8 mainly cus he has very bad exam anxiety, but he studies very often and his notes are so cool!! he’s an absolute master at diagrams , he has an eye for copy and pasting it just by looking at them and sketching. sometimes he gets really into it, and his glasses are almost falling off his face so you push them up for him. he always thanks you really quietly and squeezes the hand you used</333 his ears are secretly all pink and he’s smiling at his textbook</33333333 him and mikasa are an absolute power duo!!! they tend to bully eren and depending on how much of a rat he’s being , you either defend or bully him. you and eren are probably the more chaotic ones, tbh . ARMIN LOOOVES going on coffee dates with you guys!!! like you all go out when it’s chilly, sometimes you guy all hold hands and walk down the street 😭😭😭 and then you go in, chat, make jokes and take cute pictures just to destress after the long week at uni. it’s so pure and the pictures are stuff like all your drinks next to eachother, mikasa and eren hugging and pretending to make out😭😭, armin having a milk moustache and you almost dropping your drink all over yourself.

MIKASA IS A BUSINESS MAJOUR AND OH MY GOD SHE’S LIKE A ROBOT? if she’s half asleep and you asked her what the factors of production are she knows all of them are their remunerations too😭 she’s another one who’s super passionate and hard working , she loves the validation of knowing she did her best and she adores when you guys tell her that she’s done well): her teachers adore her, they all call her by her first name and her favorite one calls her mika after she heard eren calling her that!!</3333 she has a rly sophisticated dressing style, a lot of pleaded pants and turtle necks, leather jackets and very sleek jewellery. she has naturally fluffy brows and eyelashes so she doesn’t wear much makeup unless she’s feeling spicy 🤭 she also always has her nails as a deep wine red colour, it makes her look like a business woman. i’m drooling.

her books are all neat, everything about her is so pretty and elegant. she’s another kinda affectionate person but she’s sooo low-key about it lmao. like if y’all walk together she’ll walk on the open side of the sidewalk, she likes linking pinkies and loves holding onto armin/eren’s arm when she walks, or she basically attaches herself to your side. she’s always coddling you and armin,telling you to watch where you walk, reminding you to take vitamins, small things that show her affection for you</33 with eren she’s a bit less obvious about it and she’s AGGRESSIVE like randomly in your shared apartment and you’ll hear “ fuck you im not doing that” “it’s good for you asshole” “go away” and you’re like??? armin can u hear that but he’s already so done LMAO but he loves her anyway. she always tells armin how sweet he is and eren gets so pissy

just. them<3

[heyybaejjk]

SAU, LA'U TAMA AULELEI ! - PT. 3

pairings: teen!miguel o'hara x fem samoan oc

summary: Sione's gone, David's gone, and even Kiuga is gone. But Miguel isn't, and neither is Manaia. Just great.

warnings/notes: YALL IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE ONE ❤️

series masterlist | prev chap | next chap

Soft fingers played with his hair, the other hand trailing up and down the nape of his neck. "How bad do you want to kiss me, Migs?" A smooth, yet raspy voice spoke.

Miguel could only look down at Manaia with tired eyes, yearning to feel more of her. He was tired of holding back, tired of his feelings being ignored for his ego to show. But now. Now, he has a chance.

"So bad, you don't even know."

She pushed him on the chest lightly enough for him to sit down, sitting on his lap as she cups his face.

"Prove it," she comments with a teasing voice, one of her fingers twirling around a curl.

Leading his hands to rest on her waist, only for him to press them on her back causing her to move forward. Right there at that moment, he felt bliss as her soft lips met his.

Nothing could ever ruin this moment he's dreamt about.

*buzz buzz*

mahi_sniffer: @M.Ohara_99 MY BROTHER FROM ANOTHER (HOT ASS) MOTHER I MISS YOU

mahi_sniffer: pls respond i miss you

mahi_sniffer: miguelllllllllll

bololicker: too busy on fufuhour, he doesnt wanna talk to us 😣

aluaigioukae: @M.Ohara_99 your missus was asking where you've been when we were walking home

"For fuck's sake," Miguel could never take a peaceful nap with these idiots, he should have known better. Annoyed at the ruined dream that he wished escalated quicker, he put his phone on silent.

Remembering the last text sent on his phone, he sighed heavily. He knows his friends are mutual with Manaia, mainly because their parents were friends with hers from way back when.

Despite this fact, he never found himself trying to engage with her. At all.

During classes when Sione would ask if she wanted to sit with them, Miguel would get up and sit across the room, opposite of her. Or during a break, if he was playing tackle footy and she was watching while sitting down on the bench with one of his main friends, he stops playing in case he fumbles the ball and embarrasses himself. What was worse was the walk back home after school.

If they weren't going to the mall for a feed with him or going to his house to hangout, they were most definitely walking home with her as they all lived a street next to each other. The walk together would be deadly awkward to the point where Sione would walk Manaia home himself, leaving Miguel and the two other boys.

"Ow! Fuck bro, okay, okay, I'm sorry."

Miguel can hear the stupid whines Sione projects across the room. He lifts his head up, seeing Manaia swat the Tongan boy with a rolled up textbook, "I swear, bro mum's soul, I won't say it again."

"Good," she says while smiling innocently, unrolling her book and returning to write her notes. "Cunt," Sione whispered, causing her to glare at him.

"You should just go kiss him, I swear."

"You should just do your work, stupid."

'Who was it exactly that they were talking about?' Miguel thought. It for sure couldn't be that Seth guy from weeks ago, he was her ex. Was it himself? Was it the guy sitting next to him?

"Sione, I swear if you don't shut your mouth-"

mahi_sniffer: guys not be a mood wrecker but i had to go home early, i know yall are gonna miss me but its okay 💔💔

mahi_sniffer: i forgot to turn off the iron this morning and my mum saw it lying on my bed, it was face down as well 😞

mahi_sniffer: pray for me guys

aluaigioukae: no one really fucking cares

mahi_sniffer: you didn't even come school today you have NO say

bololicker: I had to leave early too, my mum wants me to clean the house before we go airport and pick up my cousins

mahi_sniffer: aww no one really asked 🥹

bololicker: die

aluaigioukae: did naia go school?

mahi_sniffer: yeah

aluaigioukae: and miguel too?

mahi_sniffer: yur

bololicker: and ur not there?

mahi_sniffer: yuh

bololicker: ...

mahi_sniffer: oh

mahi_sniffer: OH OH

M.Ohara_2099: You left me alone, you idiot

"Hey Miguel, have you seen Sione? He wasn't in English last period."

It was already too late for his text to register as he looks up from his phone, seeing Manaia standing in front of him smiling shyly. She wore a high bun, along with a pink and yellow sei that matched her cute, yellow shoes. She had gotten a lip piercing recently, and it drove Miguel crazy.

"Uh, no, I'm sorry. He texted me saying he had to go home early."

He watches as she rolls her eyes while chuckling, "That egg probably left the iron on, I keep reminding him every time we're on the phone."

This causes Miguel to raise an eyebrow, not noticing himself smiling down at her as she talks to herself.

"I was hoping he'd walk me home, but it's fine," He watches as she began to walk away from him with a saddened expression. "I'll see you on Monday, Miguel." He hears her say with a soft voice.

His friends weren't there to encourage him into talking to her like they normally would. His mother was at work so he had no excuse to rush home, and not walk up to Manaia to strike up a conversation. He didn't see her talk to her ugly ass ex at all today.

This is his one chance, and he could not afford to miss it.

"I can walk you home, Manaia." Miguel calls out, turning around to meet with her back. She stopped walking, turning around to face him.

"O-only if you're okay with that, of course," He stutters, "And I know Sione doesn't like you walking alone with other schools nearby finishing as well, he knows you get uncomfortable walking around others you don't know much about." He attempts to make a poor excuse which she smiles softly at.

Miguel feels his face grow hot at the sight of her looking him up and down, "That's very cute of you to do, Miguel. I'd be happy if you walked with me."

It had been a long, silent walk, but it was calming. Well, to Manaia at least. Miguel had both his hands in his pockets, not wanting to accidentally touch the girl beside him if his hands were to flare out.

"You know, I was bummed out when I couldn't see you after the whole Multicultural event. I wanted to see you, Migs."

Hearing this, Miguel fidgets nervously, clenching his sweaty palms to relax his racing heart. If only she knew how much of an effect she had on him just by saying a few words. But there was this thing; she was always genuine. He knew that she was telling no lie, and it made him crazy.

Based on how other girls approached him, it wasn't the best way to get into his closed-off heart. He remembers how bold people can be, but it just made him uncomfortable knowing they'd just try to get into his pants. Some people were deaf to the word no a lot of the time.

"Uh- yeah, had to.. get home, emergency," he tells Manaia, stuttering uncontrollably and lying through his teeth.

Miguel watches as her nod, "I kind of wished to see you there. But I hope everything at home is okay," she looks up at him, catching him off guard at the sudden eye contact. His face heats up as she smiles at him warmly.

"So what are you listening to?" He asks, using an excuse to avoid her longing gaze.

In his peripheral vision, he sees her hand offering an ear bud. "You're close enough with Sione to not get it right," He looks down at Manaia, he waits for her to continue, her moist lips tempting his curiosity badly. Just how exactly would they feel against his own?

"If you guess right, you'll get a surprise when you drop me to my house." The crescendo of her sultry voice chimes in, her eyes looking into his as she gave him a cute smile, waving the earbud in his face. As he puts the bud in, he feels the side of her arm touch his. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Sorry, I just don't want to move far away and accidentally pull the bud out of your ear. I shared with Sione one time, and trust me when I tell you how much it hurts," laughing at the stupid memory with her best friend. Fondly smiling at her thoughtful thinking, he inches closer as well, arms brushing against each other.

He paid no mind to the contact.

That's what Manaia was thinking.

The volume raises slightly, she gave a toothy grin at his animated-like thinking pose, one hand on his chin as he pretend to thinks as he hears her small laugh.

"It's definitely Hey Girl by Fiji,' He answers, looking at Manaia expectantly, heartstrings being pulled as he sees her face glow in endearment.

"You even said the artist, that's very cute of you, Miguel," Manaia's quick to compliment him as if it was nothing, sending him into an internal coma. Trying his best not to let his mouth form into a shy smile, he mumbles a quick thank you, to which she giggle at once again.

The two of them continued their walk, they had to come to a stop as she saw the walkway leading to the small stairs of her front door. Looking at the empty driveway, she let out a sigh of relief. Both of the teenagers walk up to the door. Despite this, Miguel finds himself in relief as she doesn't say her goodbyes yet.

"I'm still sorry for the long walk," she says with an upset tone, an apologetic smile on her face. "It's fine, really. Plus, going to the gym isn't going to help me by itself if I'm not walking at least an hour a day," He winks playfully, his crossed arms that were up against his chest brought into a trance. Muscular arms seeped through the material of his shirt.

"You're an egg sometimes, just like Sione," she stiffled a laugh, jokingly pushing his shoulder, a bit harder than expected as she leaned forward, her sei falling out.

Miguel bends down and picks it up, softly pulling her closer by the arm, placing the fake flower back in position. All the while she looked up at him, flattering her eyelashes up at him trying to ignore the close feeling of his body against hers. The promximity sent a rush of heat to her face. "Don't want to ruin that pretty hair of yours," he smiles down at her.

His words replaying and looping around in her head, she couldn't resist asking the taller boy in front of her.

"You think I'm pretty?"

Miguel looks at Manaia, face heated from the straightforward question, he coughs, "Maybe.." She tilts her head teasingly, glossy lips form into a cute smile, as well as her eyes.. God, those eyes. Miguel couldn't help but think back to the dream from last night. The way her lips moulded perfectly against his, giving him a teasing look right after. The same look she was giving him now.

He shakes his head lightly before chuckling, "Now, where was that surprise you were talking about early, huh?"

"Come closer," her hand reaches up to hold his face, now standing on her tippy toes to get closer.

This is it. Miguel thinks to himself happily.

"Who are you?" a small voice pops out.

The both of them look at the door. There stood a little boy, hair ruffled as well as his strained looking eyes.

"Junior, what have I told you about when I'm talking to people?" She tells him off with a motherly tone as if telling off her own child, her hand long gone from his heated cheek. Turning her focus back to Miguel, "I, uh, as much as I want to invite you inside, my mum will be home soon, Miguel," And that was true.

"That's fine," he says to her, looking her in the eyes.

She turns her head down to her brother, nodding her head for him to get inside as the both of them talked, and that he does.

"I'll see you on Monday," Manaia quickly cup his cheek, kissing just beside his mouth, missing his cheek completely as he moved his head. He shakes his head while blushing, watching Manaia swiftly wave and run into her house giggling.

bololicker: bro its been 3 hours, wheres sione

aluaigioukae: got his phone taken off him 😿😿

bololicker: AWUI SHAME

aluaigioukae: nah but wheres that chromebook he stole from skl? 👀

bololicker: AS IF HE WOULD USE THE CHROMEBOOK TO TEXT US

bololicker: he made fun of me when i was texting my missus on it

aluaigioukae: 💀💀💀

aluaigioukae: anyway..

alugioukae: has miguel texted you? havent heard from him for a few hours

M.Ohara_99: I just got home, I'm here.

bololicker: MY BRETHREN.

aluaigioukae: are you okay? doesnt take you that long to get home before

M.Ohara_99: I'm fine, thank you for asking.

M.Ohara_99 is typing

Miguel stops typing, should he tell them he walked Manaia home? No. They'll make fun of him, for sure. But if he tells them, they can give him advice on how to get closer to her as well. They are close to her, more than he is. Sadly, he thinks.

Ah, fuck it.

M.Ohara_99: I walked Manaia home

2 users are typing

aluaigioukae: AINGGGGGGGGGGGGG

bololicker: SLURP SLURP OUAAAAAAAAAA

aluaigioukae: DID YOU.. YKKKKK???

"I fucking knew it," He says to himself.

M.Ohara_99: David, Kiuga, please

M.Ohara_99: I just walked her home, that was all

alugioukae: wait nah we need to hear how youre saying it 👀 you might be smiling and kicking your dick around n all

bololicker: awui

aluaigioukae has started a voice chat!

2 others are on voice chat! - join | decline

Miguel groans into his pillow, "Fucks sake."

"David, why do we have to call? I was perfect with texting you," he says immediately after pressing the green join option. He glares at the little screen, showing David grinning at him, Kiuga's screen remained off while his microphone stayed on.

At least Kiuga was normal about it, Miguel thinks.

"HOW WAS IT, MATE?" Kiuga screams through his microphone.

Nevermind.

Turning on his camera, Miguel props his phone against his headboard and lays on his pillow. "I told you, nothing else. I just walked her home..." He trails off, looking away from the camera.

"So you both didn't kiss?" David asks, raising his brow line.

Miguel coughs and chokes on air, looking up at the ceiling.

"No. We didn't kiss."

"Liar, liar, my dick is on fucking fire, Miguel. Naia told us she tried to go for the cheek but your freaky ass was trying to get some tongue in there," Kiuga yells through his microphone dramatically, the pitch of his voice heightening through every line.

Miguel groans again into his pillow, "So you both knew but asked anyway? I'm embarrassed right now," ruffling his hair aggressively.

David breaks into laughter, "She told us straight away. Okay but don't tell her I told you," He says in a bit of a serious tone, a playful aura still lingering, "But she felt embarrassed when you moved your face, she was rambling on about it on the phone before you texted. She was even more embarrassed when her brother saw you at the front door."

"He was a cute kid, but he ruined the moment," Miguel says bluntly.

"Did the kid have a gap tooth or?" Kiuga says causing David to laugh. Miguel thinks to himself before nodding. "He did."

"I fucking love that sibling, her other siblings are so ass."

"Have I met any of them?" Miguel curiously asks.

"Uh," David trails off, scratching the back off his neck, "do you remember that guy who started a brawl at the mall last year? In the food court?"

"The guy who stole my fucking burrito from Mad Mex to throw at someone's head!? The burrito I paid for that was $20?!" Miguel yells through his mic, louder than needed as his mother opens his door, peeking her head in.

"You okay?" she asks softly.

He snaps his head toward the door, nodding aggressively, "Uh huh."

His mother leaves, giving an awkward smile.

"Yeah that was him. And the other two girls that were behind him are her sisters. They're all in their twenties, but they don't live with Manaia and Junior" Kiuga informs Miguel, whose mouth is wide open as well as his eyes.

"Fuck's sake."

"Yeah well, better not fuck around with her or else her junkie ass siblings will come for you," David jokes.

Miguel sighs, taking off his jumper, revealing his tone arms and shoulders. His riled up self felt heat rush through his body. It was bad enough the AC in his room was broken.

"Well, I would never do that. All I know is that I like her, but I don't know if she likes me back," the heart broken boy says, a slight pout settling on his lips.

"Be for real, Migs," Kiuga teases. The nickname only sounded good when it came out of her mouth. Only hers. "And don't give me that 'Oh, she's just being nice' type bullshit. I give David a little kiss on the cheek when I drop him off home-"

"Wow, okay bye." David says, leaving the call.

Miguel rolls his eyes as Kiuga laughs out loud. "All I see is denial. Try talking to her more. I'll give you her username before I go sleep, I'll see you Monday." The boy finally says before leaving the call.

Miguel lets the silence in his room embrace him. A few minutes go by and all he can do is think about her. And maybe the dream. He remembers how she looked down at him in the dream, and sat in his lap. With just one touch, she already had him on his knees.

As for today, all she did was look up at him, and he felt his knees buck and his breath hitch. Fuck.

*buzz buzz*

aluaigioukae: @manaiafepuleai 😉😉 heres her @

aluaigioukae: make sure theres no cookie calls ;))

prev chap | next chap

[kandyzee]

So gonna be ranting about this mf on twitter

Major Ian gallagher defence coming.

OKAH FIRST Ian 100% deserves mickey the same way mickey deserves Ian. When mickey is first introduced he is a homophobic closet case with no support system by the end of the show he is happily married to his fucking high-school sweetheart with his own apartment in a nice area and he has his own business. HE HAS ALL OF THAT BECAUSE OF IAN. Ian became mickeys support system and was always pushing him to become a better person. He shows mickey that he's not 'fucked for life' and he trys his hardest to protect him. Even if the way Ian did it , he got mickey to come out. Mickey needed that push. U think he would have come out if he didn't have someone he loves telling him to?

Now the cheating. The only time Ian cheats on mickey is during his manic episode in s4/5 AND HE GOT HELP AFTER. It's crazy to me that people don't think Ian regrets that and seriously use it as a reason to hate Ian. U better hate fiona and Debbie and Lip too. Yk what better hate mickey too cause he did have a wife and boyfriend (this is a joke don't kill me)

Ian not signing the marriage papers is upsetting but it's not hard to understand why he did it. Ian grew up around frank and Monica , his main representation of marriage is an absolute shit show. He's scared of turning his relationship with the man he loves into that. This is an expected fear from Ian given his worries about being like his mum. He doesn't want to complicate things. And he talks to mickey about this. Ian not signing isn't him being horrible it's his way of trying to protect mickey from himself because he loves mick.

And Ian is always trying to protect mickey, he backs him up in fights, when mickey breaks out of prison he doesn't go to the cops, he breaks up with mickey when he thinks their relationship is hurting him, he tells lip "hit my husband again and I'll fucking kill you". CLEARLY PROTECTIVE.

I don't have ss but mf was also like "Ian laughs at mickey being raped" so talking about that now.

The first time Ian "laughs at him" is in s3 when he tries to talk to mickey right after it happens. I don't think it takes a genius to know that Ian was trying to lighten the mood, not laugh AT mickey. He was also traumatised when Terry catching them happened. He laughs nervously because he has no clue how to navigate a situation like that at such a young age. He's a child making a badly timed, uncomfortable joke because he watched something terrible happen.

The second time Ian does this is with Caleb. During his relationship with caleb, Ian tries to convince himself that mickey was bad for him a few times. Making yourself hate someone is a lot easier than accepting the fact that they are gone. He shouldn't be telling someone he basically just met about that, but in his defence, he's talking about something he probably feels happened to him as well. Ian is affected by all that happened with mickey, and it makes sense that he tells people. In the same way, it would make sense for svetlana to tell people about the day it does for Ian too. All 3 are victims of Terry. Ian also has people telling him how bad mickey is all the time (mainly fiona tbh what if her problem with the milkovichs ) so he's trying to believe that, a easy way to do that is get validation from someone who hasn't been been around mickey. Caleb has never met mick, he has no reason to try defend him. I also don't really think what Ian was saying was making fun of mickey, it's not nice but yk?

This is getting long omg

On him being ugly

UGLY?!?!?

Cameron monaghan is GORGEOUS. He is the definition of cutie pie AND fine as fuck.

When mickey punches Ian because he didn't sign the marriage papers, HE DID NOT HAVE IT COMING. No one deserves to be hit by their partner. I mean, Jesus crist mickey literally broke his leg. His is probably the worst aspect of their relationship by that I mean the violence. A lot of it is playful, but it's not always healthy. Mickey was understandably upset but he shouldn't have hit Ian.

Okayyy now the hall of shame stuff. To me, that shit doesn't count cause Ian and mickey both act kinda out of character. I really don't like Ian saying that, and he shouldn't, but it's hardly a reason for Ian not to deserve mick. 87% is still the majority of his heart, and Ian wasn't saying he doesn't love mickey. Also acting like mickey hasn't said worst things.

"Ur nothing but a warm mouth to me"

"better than going off and having another bipolar episode"

LAST THING. Yes, mickey sacrifices a lot for Ian, like when he goes to prison for him, but not everyone shows love through large reckless actions. You shouldn't expect Ian to give things up to prove he loves mickey. Sacrifice isn't the only way to show affection. U can do it through words or gifts or quality time. Ian shows his love a lot through words, like when he tells mickey, "we have nothing to be ashamed of" early as s2. He makes him feel better when mickey is scared he would be a bad dad.

Ian gallagher haters are DUMB . Some people shouldn't be allowed to watch shameless cause how can u be so small-minded. People who say 1 of them doesn't deserve the other are just aggravating. Gallavich has a lot of ups and downs, and its part of what makes them so appealing. Despite all the bad things they go through, they always love and fight for each other.

Rant over

[madame-fear]

♡ general fluff headcanons | lucerys velaryon x fem!reader ♡

a/n : oh man, i love writing for Lucerys 😭💖 can't wait to properly open my requests for HotD :"). Also, as always, he's aged to 18.

────────────────────

• him sneaking into your chambers only to read to you in High Valyrian until you fall asleep on him.

• ^ and will probably cuddle with you for a short while after you fall asleep <33

• often getting teased – in a sweet manner, knowing he'll get blushy – by his brother for getting himself someone as sweet and caring as you are.

• as shy and awkward as he usually is – no matter how long you've been dating for – he will sometimes get a bit teasy with you, and an absolute smartass.

• for example: if your entire family and you are having dinner with his family, he will tease you by staring at you for too long until you notice.

• and when you do notice him and immediatly look somewhere else with a faint rosy-taint on your cheeks out of shyness, he will smirk to himself while quietly chuckling, and will definitely keep staring at you until dinner is finished.

• oh man, he will definitely enjoy seeing you become shy & nervous under his gaze <3

• Luke will also flirt with you by complimenting/sweet talking to you in High Valyrian. Of course, only when his family/relatives aren't nearby because otherwise they will also understand what the two of you are saying.

• even if he is not much of a fighter (not really good at it, honestly), he won't mind at all if he has to give and receive some punches if that means defending/protecting you and your honour.

• most of the time, he'll get into some fights with his own uncles. It doesn't matter to him if he gets his nose broken, or a sore jaw, because he's kinda proud of himself for protecting you, in a way

• Arrax literally loving you as if you were his mum and letting you pet his scales 😭💖

• often sneaking into the garden toghether while everybody else is asleep. Or even!! sneaking into the dragon pit where Arrax sleeps, only so you can have a nice dragonride together.

• him loving to play with your hair. Always twirling a bit of your hair in his finger, or just caressing it when hugging, kissing, and cuddling.

• naturally, he's not the jealous type. But if someone else dares to flirt with you? oh no, he's not taking it. In the blink of an eye, he'll be by your side gently grabbing your hand and calling you sweet names while giving the other person a death look.

• our boy will literally spoil you with anything you want. You can make a slight remark about how you like a certain gem, and he will literally fill you with jewellery that has said gem. Or, you like certain flower in the garden? he'll bring you a whole bouquet of them.

• at first, when you were in a public place, the only thing he'd do with you would be flashing you a quick, shy smile as a way of showing you PDA.

• then, as he gets a bit more confident around you, he'd probably hold your hand, and give you small cheek/forehead kisses in public.

• please ruffle his messy brunette curls. He'll absolutely love the feeling of your hands messing around with his hair.

• Rhaenyra absolutely ADORING you and treating you as if you were her own daughter. And his entire family loves you very much, as well.

• another way he playfully teases you is by nicknaming you “my Queen” and also, “my Princess”. He'll love seeing how slightly blushy you'll get from it.

• expect him to adoringly compliment you whenever he can, 24/7 <33

• cuddles with him? hell yes. will love to be the big spoon only because he likes tightly holding you –

• oh, and also, he LOVES casually resting on your arms and being pampered by you after a long, stressing day.

• he's got a particular liking for you resting your head on his lap, mainly because he likes tracing shapes around your face, and admiring it.

• basically: Lucerys treats you like the princess Queen you are because he loves you so much and you deserve that, and many more things. And he will let you know how much he loves you. 💖

────────────────────

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @marvelfics134

[huboi]

‘words’ of affection

ft eddie munson and steve harrington (separate)

summary — reader is neurodivergent and likes making random noises to communicate with their boyfriend

warnings — none ig, lmk if you think if there are any <3

EDDIE MUNSON

ngl I headcanon him as neurodivergent, like you can’t tell me he ain’t got something-

so whenever he hears you making noises from the other room, he’ll make noises back

the noises he makes are chirps of sort, they sound a bit like bat noises

one time wayne was in the trailer and got a small fright from the noises you two were making, he nearly had a heart attack

eddie and you will also make noises when at the hellfire club when you’re on your breaks (the other club members lowkey find it wholesome)

eddie likes it because it’s as if it’s your own language

STEVE HARRINGTON

when you first make the noise he’s confused, but also his mum mode activates

“what’s wrong? are you in pain? are you hungry?” etc.

when you explain to him why you make those noises he just kinda nods and is like “ok cool”

won’t reciprocate the noises but he does appreciate them :)

I feel like one time you steve and robin were hanging out and then you made the noises and robin was lowkey confused, she was all like🤨

you decided it was best to explain it to her as well just in case it happened some time in the future, she was understanding luckily

robin high key loves seeing you and steve happy together, like, she’s happy the idiot finally has a partner that doesn’t use him and treats him well

whenever you make the noises when you’re with the younger teens, they will sometimes make noises back because why not? mainly dustin tho

please refrain from posting my content on any other social media platforms.

[flornray]

My Babies (NF + LF) Headcannons

There's so much stuff I just... don't like too much about the LF, I think most everybody can agree with me, and since I'm back in my annual HTTYD phase, I'm developing my LF redesign further.

The grey version of the light Fury, that I'll be building off: (plus older redesign photos)

1. Invisibility/Skills

As shown in HTTYDTHW, LF has reflective scales when heated. This works with its own fire, but I like to think, also from the inside. Their body can consciously move internal bodily heat against their scales, so slowly able to become invisible within closed spaces. Also used to prolong reflectivity after using a plasma blast.

Plus, a nack for rock climbing, using their longer tail, as well as longer talons, allows them to scale up rocky walls.

2. Habitat/Camouflage

As shown in the hidden world, there are tide pools and large bodies of water. I like the idea the LF developed a grey top, to blend in with stone, and from any angle within the water, (like a killer whale.)

Also shown in my designs, their tail fins, are longer but thinner, with fins instead of spikes on the back, and this would be better for tight cramped spaces of a cave, and underwater manoeuvre. So semi-cave dweller, semi-aquatic.

3. Family/Pack roles

As shown in HTTYD Nine realms, Furies live in packs. There's obviously an order to that. I'm slightly taking inspiration from Lions, and comparing Toothless to the LF, Toothless is significantly bulkier. With this extra bulk, male LF are made to protect eggs and young. With white eggs, these furies often cover the eggs with their wings or bodies. While females, being less wide, allowing for tighter turning, are the hunters. Like a kingfisher, I think they may dive-bomb down into the water to quickly catch fish, being their main food-catching method, but with speed and agility, other larger prey can be caught.

I like to think with their destructive plasma blast, Males can often court females by carving out a hole in the rock walls or cliffs or claiming an already existing one. These home caves are often found by the water. Allowing for easy fishing, and allowing the kids to safely watch their mum while she hunts, to help them learn.

3. Courting

Being a thing Toothless didn't excel at, mating dances and other practices. intelligence and coordination seem to be the main two traits females look for.

I think mainly, having a good cave picked out, is something a female likes, showing intelligence. Also as shown in the Toothless sense where he dances with the LF after winning her over, swinging the tail, and spreading the wings are in the male's favour. Trotting, holding up the wings, and swishing the tail all at once, shows agility and coordination. The LF finally likes Toothless once he draws her, with the abstract show of intelligence, and so other things like that, solving puzzles, outsmarting other dragons in fights and such are other ways of showing off courting.