#nostres

[cuties-in-codices]

souls of the slothful being devoured by dragons and eagles in hell

in the "livre de la vigne nostre seigneur", france, c. 1450–1470

source: Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS. Douce 134, fol. 84v

[n0-strings]

more unfinished ultrakill thangs ^0^

[yourtrashcollector]

Kent Haruf, Le nostre anime di notte

[lilystyles]

For a no strings blurb could you write one about Harry being sick and y/n taking care of him?

delicate.

a @lilystyles blurb!

my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist

authors note thanku gorgeous anon for requesting! and as someone who has been so sick lately i was so inspired. MWAH!

brief description harry is sick and y/n takes care of him.

warnings! none so fluffyyyyy wordcount (1.4k)

sick!nostrings!h x reader

* * * * *

Harry was a total and utter baby when he got sick. More than the average person, and though it could be annoying at times Y/n found it just as endearing as the rest of his qualities. He was too cute, how could she not?

She'd known this about him for years, and when they became roommates in Uni and she'd taken care of him for two weeks when he had a shocking fever the both of them should've known then they were destined for each other. 

She was reminded of this fact when she got home, Y/n had moved into Harry's house fairly soon after the wedding. It just felt right, and now she'd added all her favourite decor from her flat and it felt a bit like the two of them now. Not just him. There were touches of her all over the house.

Flowers in vases everywhere, her knitted blankets lazily thrown over the couch and chairs, her coffee table, her books, her clothes, her smell, and most importantly her. Harry loved having her living with him again, and it reminded him how much he'd miss having her in his home. Sharing a home.

She called out kicking her shoes off and unbundling her scarf, as she walked inside the lounge room. Normally when she got home Harry was on the couch watching telly, napping, strumming his guitar or cooking. But she heard nothing coming from the kitchen, and he wasn't on the couch. 

"H!" She repeated, curiously. She walked upstairs making her way to the bedroom. Surely he wasn't napping in there.

When she opened the door she found her boyfriend rugged up under the sheets. The only giveaway was his brown curls stuck out and the large Harry-sized lump under the dusty blue almost grey-coloured duvet. She walked over and dropped her purse and keys on the floor. 

"Baby," He rasped out. "Is tha' you?" He asked. He sounded breathless and his voice was hoarse.

She kneeled on the floor so her eyes were level with his. "Hi, my love, are you okay?"

He shook his head, as he squeezed the blanket closer. His teeth chattered. "I'm cold, n' my throat hurts,"

His face was pale in colour, a glisten covering his face, and his eyes had deep purple bags. She leaned closer to him and placed her hand on his forehead. He was boiling. She frowned.

"Gonna check your temp quickly, H." She said walking into their main bathroom in the hallway. She grabbed her first aid box from under the sink and dug around. Eventually, she found the thermometer, and some strong Panadol for him. She walked into the room and when she asked him to open his mouth he groaned softly shifting in the bed. Once the temperature came back it read 39.1°, which meant he had a fever.

She sighed. "Oh, H, you aren't well. Do you want some Panadol?"

He nodded, she popped two pills out of the packet and handed them to him. Before rushing to feed him some water. He gulped them down and swallowed with a grimace. She stroked his arm. 

"I'm gonna make you Mum's soup recipe for you." Y/n's mother was a Chef, she made the best food especially when Y/n was sick. One time during Uni Exams Harry called Y/n's Mum and she came down and visited and made a big batch of her soup and rubbed some weird-smelling cream on Y/n's chest and by the next day she was better, it was like magic in a bowl. Y/n didn't know how but she swore Mum's just had special healing powers.

She stroked his forehead, "And then you can have a bath, and you can try and get some sleep."

He nodded.

Y/n quickly made her way to the kitchen and grabbed all the things she needed. Her Mum had given her a book of recipes and she flipped to the page with the soup. Skimming over the words in her mother's soft cursive handwriting.

Slowly but surely she chopped up all the ingredients. It was mainly fresh herbs and vegetables. She put so much garlic she was sure their breaths would smell for weeks. But it always helped with a sore throat and made her feel better. She added lots of onions, celery, carrots, zucchini, and other vegetables Harry liked. Along with some freshly cooked chicken. She let it stew for a while, as the broth got its flavour.

She had a shower and changed into some pyjamas, combing her hair and applying some sweet-smelling creams to her skin while she worried about her sickly boyfriend.

When she checked on Harry he was fast asleep in their bed curled up on her side, hugging the pillow she slept on. She snuck back She flicked on the telly and sat on the couch while the smell of her wonderful soup filled the big mansion of a house. The telly was on some channel playing old reruns of films everyone's seen a million times. It was playing The Princess Bride. Y/n always used to watch this in bed when she was sick it was perfect because the kid in the beginning was sick too.

She loved this film. She'd seen it enough times to recite the words without thinking. After twenty or so minutes into the film, the soup was ready. She turned the stove off and put some bread in the toaster.

Just as she poured Harry his big bowl and coated his golden brown toast in smooth melting butter, she heard footsteps. He was standing behind her, the knitted blanket off their bed wrapped around him like a cape. He looked awful still, and sleepy. But gosh, was he handsome.

"Hi, Gorgeous." He said softly. His voice was hoarse.

She smiled. "Hi, I was about to bring you dinner."

"Heard the telly. Princess Bride?"

She nodded. 

"Let's watch it."

She followed him with their dinner and they ate together curled up real close, the soup was heavenly and warm. It was so soothing and made Y/n feel like she was a kid again. The toast was crunchy and delicious. She had a few more pieces and a second serving of soup.

Harry grew sleepy toward the climax of the film, his belly full and his clammy body warmed right up. It wasn't long until his head found its way to Y/n's lap. She was rubbing his head softly, her fingers running through his curls. He was asleep not long after her touches and when the film ended she got him up the stairs and put him in a quick bath before bed.

She helped him strip and checked the temperature was warm enough in the bath but not too hot. He hopped in and she sat on the floor beside him, making sure he didn't fall asleep in there. She washed his hair massaging the curls of his hair, and cleaned his body of his sweat. Helping him bathe. His eyes shut in contentment. The steamy water had helped him breathe easier, and her soup was doing wonders. 

When he got out after he was all clean Y/n helped him blow dry his hair quickly. His hands slid onto her hips under the big shirt of Harry's she was wearing and the loose tracksuit bottoms. 

This was love. Taking care of him, and not complaining once. That's how Harry knew she was the one.

Once he was dry she applied that cream to his chest that her mother used to put on hers. It was a mix of all sorts of things. She rubbed it gently over the swallows and moth ink and all along his chest and shoulders. 

"Turn around, I'll put some on your back too, H."

She gently massaged the cream onto his back and he sighed. 

"I love you."

She smiled even though she couldn't see him. "I love you too, Harry."

She picked some fresh comfy pyjamas for him and then they went to bed. The whole night she held him close and soothed him when he woke up in pain. For the next few days, she took care of him and held him however he needed. He eventually got better.

When Y/n woke up with the same flu a few days later, Harry took care of her too. Doing all the same things. Even with a red nose and glossy eyes, and she was coughing up all sorts of gross phlegm, she was the most beautiful girl he'd ever laid his eyes on. 

Harry knew he was going to marry her one day.

BYE LOVE U

[nsfwbible]

A 15th Century tour of Hell

Medieval monks had themselves one hell of a time imagining the demons awaiting sinners in Hell. The illustrations are from Livre de la Vigne nostre Seigneur (Bodleian MS. Douce 134), a treatise on the Antichrist, the last judgement, and Heaven and Hell.

[trans-rockstar-art]

i MIGHT fucking love bubo

[breitzbachbea]

I guess the key to writing hws England to me is to understand he is both a control freak and a dreamer. He must have loved having secrets all for himself as a kid, his own world. He's so certain he can make the whole world dance to his tune, but should something go wrong, he has learned to pre-empt disappointment with cynicism. If something works, he will present it as inevitable success based on his abilities. If stuff goes wrong, he will say that he hadn't had high hopes. Everyone else is an idiot, except for him, because if he says he is an idiot, he isn't one. Ultimately, he cares so much but being SEEN caring is a weakness. Depending on someone else is a WEAKNESS. Anyone else feel like the Introduction From Communion to Cannibalism by Maggie Kilgour is in the room with us.

[merr1nelly113]

Buboseries (reposted) Fanart

hope yall like it!

[jacobglaser]

Tumblr sneaking under the radar of Musk's tantrum throwing for now.

[peaceinthestorm]

The Sun and the Moon, Livre de la Vigne nostre Seigneur, France, 1450-1470 (Bodleian Library, MS. Douce 134, fol. 49v) 

[via @discardingimages]

[jellyfishoreo1206]

The plague cousins in pen on the back of some work I fucked up on

[n0-strings]

old drawing >o<

[pensieri-di-dea]

Tu che mi porti altrove, e io che sogno il paradiso .

Dea

.

[lilystyles]

when not in rome.

a @lilystyles blurb!

my masterlist & no strings attached masterlist & blurbs masterlist

authors note idk this was a random thing i wrote at 2AM because i just missed them, i am still working on style so don't worry that should be out soon. also this is set way before no strings, i love writing about them in their previous moments!

brief description harry surprises y/n at her graduation (also listen to love of my life by h whilst readinggg)

warnings! angsty? fluffy? drunk y/n and harry (2.1k)

younger!lhh!nostrings!h x reader

* * * * *

SIX YEARS BEFORE

University has a funny way of making you feel like you might never cross the finish line. Y/n like everyone else had multiple days where she would just sob and scream from the stress of it all. Exams were totally a torture device.

When Y/n graduated with her first degree before deciding to write her thesis Harry surprised her.

He’d been touring the world with One Direction for months now and she hadn’t seen him since Paris the year before, when he’d surprised her by flying her to join them in their Paris show and they’d had a wild few drunken nights that she felt blurred the lines of friendship into something more.

But after their few days, when the champagne ran out, and she came back home, she sobered and realised that nothing would ever happen between them. And if you spent a few nights with Harry in a limo drinking champagne and dealing with his wandering hands you too would fall for him. Just a bit. It's only natural.

She missed him, though, loads. He was one of her best friends after all.

Around a month ago they phoned each other, it was late for her and the morning for him, she’d been studying and they talked for hours catching up till the sky turned bright for her and her eyes drooped shut. The time between their phone calls had grown longer and longer now, and she missed him. She’d mentioned that she was graduating soon and that they were both supposed to be graduating if he’d stayed in Uni. She remembers them staying up late at parties discussing their futures and how post-graduation Harry was insistent that they’d still be roommates. She realised now that their dream definitely wasn’t a possibility anymore.

He’d told her that instead of being there graduating like they’d suspected he was going to be, he was in Rome at some fashion show gala thing, and his date was this sexy model named Rosalie who had her sex tape leaked a couple of months ago. She was happy for him, but a part of her couldn’t help but be disappointed. She felt like he was drifting away from her every day, but she couldn’t find in herself to be cross with him. He was swept up by the fame of it all, and how on earth could she be mad that he was literally a rockstar? She knew that he was still Harry and she was still Y/n but they weren’t Harry and Y/n anymore. Not like before.

And honestly, she’d probably leave everything and everyone behind, party all night, and sleep with sexy models too if she had the chance to be famous. But she couldn’t sing for shit. So instead she did what she was doing, and shoved her nose in a book rather than in lines off a bathroom sink, and she was rather content with the peacefulness of it all.

All thoughts of Harry were swept away from her mind when she walked across the stage in the grande hall. She was finally graduating! Thank god! She thought. She had a sash that showed she was an honours student, and she was blooming with pride, when they called her name her list of achievements was longer than the four painful years she’d spent studying in their grande libraries. She was so glad to shake the hand of one of her favourite professors and leave, the next year ahead she planned to travel and work overseas, she was excited about that.

But honestly, she was even more excited to get absolutely shit-faced at the graduation after-ball party. She found herself a few pints down, sitting by the edge of one of the fountains, when she nearly fell in at the absolutely shocking sight in front of her.

There was just no way it could be true. I mean he was in Rome, and she was drunk in London. She’d seen photos on her Twitter of him wrapping his tattooed arms around that Rosalie model girl, so how could he be here in London just like that? It was not real, surely. She must be hallucinating and the second-hand smoke of all the spliffs had finally got to her brain. But suddenly the man turned around and Jesus Christ it was him. It was Harry. His eyes were pinched as he searched the crowd and when he finally saw her they lit up, all green like a forest, and his mouth kicked up into that devilish grin of his.

He saw her dumb-struck expression and laughed softly walking toward his best friend. He was dressed in a suit jacket like everyone else, and since they were all drunk none of them noticed it was the Harry Styles of the One Direction AKA the biggest band in the world. To them, he was just some random twat who just graduated too.

His hair had grown all long and curly, and he just looked so much more like a man than when he’d left. Had he gotten taller? More strong? The arms of his jacket strained and Y/n sighed at the sight of him.

She didn't think she'd changed much, but Harry thought she looked even more beautiful than before, if possible.

When he stood right in front of her, her mouth was still wide in utter shock. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He laughed. “Is that all you hafta’ say? Come on, hug your best friend!”

She sprang up from her seat and the silky long dress, which was a teal blue colour. All smooth and tight on her skin was hiked up slightly. Her gown and cap were long gone, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders. He lifted her up off the floor and spun them around. 

She smelt like peaches and sweetness, and God, he could've stayed holding her for weeks.

She giggled and felt her face hurt from smiling so big. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you!”

When he placed her down, his hands did not leave the curve of her waist. “Surprise, babe.”

“What the- shit- I thought you were in Rome! How’d you even get here?” She asked 

He smiled. “I was, got a flight this afternoon. It was the only one coming home, sorry for missing the graduation part.”

She just smiled up at him. “You’re crazy.”

He shook his head landing a hand on her shoulder. “I knew how important it was to you, and I missed you. Sue me.”

She laughed, eyes welling with slight tears. Maybe he wasn’t drifting too far from her after all. “Oh, god, don’t make me cry, you know how I get after a few pints, H.”

He laughed, arms outstretched for her to cuddle him. “Aw, pet, c’mere.”

She smacked his chest playfully but cuddled him nonetheless. “Let’s go get royally fucked, mate,” She whispered and they pulled apart, hands interlocking as she lead him off to one of the pubs where everyone was buying drinks.

It was called The Ducks Nuts.

A few of her mates were inside. Ones Harry didn’t know, but she’d already spent a good portion of the night with them. So she told them her old friend had surprised her and they’d be here and there.

Harry ordered them some shots and eventually the night was just a blur of hands touching each other, as they got so drunk Y/n felt her world spinning. They’d hopped around multiple different pubs and bars and Y/n was so tired. Her heels itched her feet with pain and she ripped them off, along with her bag. As they walked with little purpose she threw her things at him and began to dance in the middle of the road.

Harry was holding her things as she danced in the street showing her best Elton John impression, and he silently decided that was what made her so perfect. She was just herself. And he loved that about her, he loved everything about her.

He laughed and told her what a realistic impression it was, and how they’d met at some award show to back up that comment. She was infinitely jealous, she loved Elton.

On her way back toward him she landed in his arms after losing her footing he shook his head at her.

“You are very drunk, Lovie. Aren't ya'?" He said, in a soft tone one that made her tummy turn in flips.

She sighed as they walked in a direction with no destination in mind. “You aren’t drunk enough, you need to get on my level.”

He noticed her shiver under his arm and quickly ripped his coat off. It swallowed her form and she smiled gratefully hugging the coat around herself. It felt like a warm embrace, and that smell filled her nose and suddenly she was home in her old flat with him, home in Holmes Chapel, home with him. Just home.

“Smells good.” She giggled as she sniffed the shoulder pad, her cheek brushing against the soft material all dog-like. “N’ soft too.”

“Why thanks, it’s Gucci.” He replied. 

She rolled her eyes. “Come on then, money-bags, let’s get you as drunk as me.”

They strolled into a tavern near her flat and drank so much tequila that they had to practically carry each other home.

As Harry looked up at the stars and moon, feeling the cool air nip her skin he sighed. He hadn’t gotten this drunk, and been this happy in such a long time. He was giggling contently, as she leaned into him and he silently wished that the night would never end.

He never wanted his time with her to end either. He loved spending time with her, whether they were on an adventure or doing nothing at all. Y/n made it worthwhile.

When they reached the shitbox of a flat she lived in Harry followed calmly behind her, and when one of her neighbours spat a comment about drunken youths he sighed, “I wish you would’ve taken up my offer,”

She looked up at him as she played with the jammy door that never seemed to open on the first try. Shoving her shoulder into it as she managed to finally wedge it open, stumbling inside ungracefully.

And with a roll of her eyes, she ushered him inside. “There is zero chance I’d let my all-of-sudden bazillionaire rockstar friend buy me a flat, just cause he can afford shoes worth more than my entire life savings. Anyway, how could I ever pay it back? I have two p to my name and a packet of noodles in my possessions, Harry.”

He laughed. “Think of it as a graduation present then,”

She sighed. “Just shut up and sit down, and I’ll get some wine.”

It was almost 4AM now, and neither cared. They were beyond drunk, but Y/n missed him and if force-feeding him wine would get him to spend a whole 24 hours with her, she totally would.

When she sat down with two mugs spilling with a cherry red wine, that was the cheapest shit she’d ever bought, Harry laughed. Her wobbly legs forced her to land awkwardly on one thigh practically on top of his. He smiled, one that showed his kind eyes. 

Green pools of emerald she wished to swim in for eternity. She laughed at the thought, she really got poetic when she was drunk, huh?

“God, remind me to get you drunk more often.” He whispered.

She sighed. “Oh shut up, and fill me in on life then. Who are you shagging?”

He looked at her pointedly. “Who are you shagging?”

A blush crept up her neck, and suddenly the only secret she had kept from him was threatening to slip past her drunken red-stained lips.

“None of your business, but there’s this hot guy in my physics who I would totally shag,”

He laughed, but underneath it, he felt a jealousy creep up his spine, he knew he had no right since he’d been balls deep in two Italian models this morning, turns out threesomes are a really good cure for hangovers by the way. But despite that, he felt an itch he couldn’t scratch that resembled something pretty close to jealousy.

“What’s he like?” Harry asked.

She shrugged. “Dunno, tall, glasses, got that whole nerdy silent thing going for him.”

“That’s what you like then, silent types?” He asked, running a hand through his long curls, and she reached out to play with one.

She shook her head, and said distractedly, “I don’t know.”

“Makes sense why you never dated me then.” 

During primary school, Harry dated every girl in their class including Daisy and Penny, except Y/n who told him she didn’t fancy him. It was an ongoing topic of discussion between them. Why wasn't he good enough? He always asked.

She laughed at that comment. “I know you too well for that, and I get the unfiltered you, and I lived with you which was basically like being married to you. We bickered too much to ever date, Haz.”

He looked at her with hooded eyes, and for some reason that stung, but trying to be light-hearted he said. “Never say never, what if we needed to repopulate the earth?”

She looked over at him and placed a hand on his and kissed his cheek, all soft and slow, and for a moment he thought she might actually kiss him for real but instead, she said. “There’ll be no hope for humanity then.”

He sighed, fake pouting before a couple of minutes of silence passed and he turned to her and said. “Come with me to Brazil.”

Her eyes widened, “What?"

“I leave tomorrow night, come with me.” He said.

She frowned. “What? Come with you? You can't be serious.”

He nodded. “Please? I miss you! And we can party for a whole week together, or sleep, or do whatever the fuck you want! Just come, pack a bikini and something sparkly, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Y/n and Harry did end up going to Brazil but that’s a story for another time.

She stood up from the couch holding her hand out to him, and he slid his into hers. Cool rings grazing the soft skin of her palm.

“Let’s just go to sleep, you're talking like a crazy person.” She said, softly pushing a lock of his hair away from his eyes.

He sighed at her, “But m’ serious, Love.”

“Alright, ask me again tomorrow. That is if you even remember...now come on, let’s listen to Fleetwood Mac and sleep until tomorrow evening.”

Y/n's room was cosy and welcoming. Harry felt his eyes droop at the sight. A tiny lamp shining over them in an orange glow, her cot-like bed covered in blankets and the scent of her likely covering those sheets.

That night they slept in Y/n’s twin bed, cuddling, with Stevie Nicks serenading them to sleep. Cheeks plump and pink from too much alcohol, hands wandering scandalously, and the love in air was thick and obvious.

Before Y/n fell asleep she pecked his lips, in a quick kiss, one that it barely even touched him and said, “Night, mate,”

His lips burned like wildfire, and from that night on, he did think humanity had a chance if it was up to them. Whether or not she believed that.

“Night, Love.”

i have been a bit slack with updates lately...second year of uni is crazy and im already soooo busy, but i missed them and i wanted to write a lil sum for y'all until my next proper update :) BIG LOVEEEE

[mermaidemilystuff]

📌 Lucca

[breitzbachbea]

i severely underutilize Ludwig in my AU, especially because the circumstances of his Hetalia birth and young existence overlap so, so well with the Like Father Like Son Curse. In BOTH we have this IMPOSSIBLY young dude, reared from minute number one to be perfectly industrious at soul-crushing, horrendous endeavours. Ludwig was and always is forged as a weapon.