#windows facing

[ghstyles]

$5 | Windows Facing

The Sigma boys host a kissing booth

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The crisp autumn air carries the sound of music and laughter across campus as Y/N and her roommate Maya make their way back to their dorm after their afternoon classes. Fallen leaves crunch beneath their boots, and Y/N clutches her psychology textbook to her chest, discussing their upcoming midterms.

"I still don't understand why Professor Jenkins expects us to memorize all forty defense mechanisms," Y/N sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I mean, rationalization and intellectualization are practically the same thing."

Maya, with her dark red hair and perpetually amused expression, nudges Y/N with her elbow. "That's such a rationalization."

"See? You're proving my point," Y/N laughs, adjusting her scarf against the October chill.

As they round the corner onto Greek Row, they're met with an unusual sight: a line of girls, at least twenty deep, snaking from the front porch of Sigma house onto the sidewalk. Above the doorway hangs a large, crudely painted banner that reads "SIGMA KISSING BOOTH - $5 - ALL PROCEEDS TO CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL."

“You’ve got to be kidding me" Y/N mutters, slowing her pace to observe the spectacle.

Maya's face lights up with recognition. "Oh! Louis mentioned they were doing a fundraiser today. Didn't realize it would be so...popular."

"Of course it's popular," Y/N says, rolling her eyes. "They're literally selling the opportunity to kiss frat boys. It's like a petri dish of bad decisions and mononucleosis."

Despite her disdain, she can't help but notice the booth set up on the porch. It's decorated with red and pink streamers, and behind it sits Niall, collecting money with an enthusiasm that suggests he's enjoying this charitable endeavor immensely. Beside the booth is a whiteboard listing the "kissers" on rotation:

HARRY 1-2 PM

ZAYN 2-3 PM

LOUIS 3-4 PM

LIAM 4-5 PM

NIALL 5-6 PM

A note at the bottom reads: "Limited time only! Get 'em while they're hot!"

"We should stop by," Maya suggests with a mischievous grin, checking her watch. "It's almost 3 – Louis is about to start his shift."

"Absolutely not," Y/N says firmly, trying to steer her roommate away from the commotion. "You've already been 'kissing' Louis for free for weeks. Why would you pay for it now?"

Maya shrugs. "It's for charity. Plus, I'm curious how he kisses other girls compared to me."

"That's...a concerning level of curiosity," Y/N remarks, but Maya is already dragging her toward the line.

"Come on! It'll be fun. You could kiss Harry," Maya teases, knowing full well about the antagonistic relationship that had developed between Y/N and Harry 

"I would rather kiss a toilet seat," Y/N retorts, but allows herself to be pulled along, if only to humor her roommate. "Besides, according to that board, Harry's shift is over."

"Pity," Maya says with exaggerated disappointment. "I've heard he's the best kisser in the house."

"From who?" Y/N asks before she can stop herself.

"Everyone," Maya gestures widely to the line of girls. "I bet his line was the longest"

As they approach, they can see the current proceedings. Zayn is seated on a stool, looking impossibly handsome and slightly bored as he gives a quick peck to a giggling sophomore. Behind him, leaning against the porch railing and drinking from a water bottle, is Harry, evidently finished with his shift.

He spots Y/N immediately, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mischievous glint that always precedes him saying something that will irritate her. He pushes off from the railing and makes his way over, running a hand through his already tousled curls.

"Well, well, well," he drawls, his British accent more pronounced as it always seems to be when he's trying to be charming. "If it isn't psychology girl. Come to make a charitable donation?"

Y/N gives him a saccharine smile. "Just escorting Maya. I prefer my charitable acts to not involve potential communicable diseases."

Harry clutches his chest in mock offense. "I'll have you know my lips are pristine. Certified disease-free."

"By whom? The CDC or just your own inflated ego?" she counters.

Harry grins, dimples appearing in full force. "Want to find out for yourself? I could make an exception and extend my shift."

"Hard pass," Y/N says, though she feels an annoying flutter in her stomach at his suggestion. "Besides, I don't have five dollars to waste."

"For you, I'd make it free," he says, leaning closer. "Consider it a scholarship for the academically gifted but romantically challenged."

Before Y/N can formulate a suitably cutting response, Louis emerges from the house, checking his watch.

"Time's up, Zayn!" he calls, then spots Maya in line and breaks into a wide smile. "Well, hello there, Red. Come to support the cause?"

Maya waves, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Just doing my part for the children."

Louis winks at her before turning to Harry. "How'd you do, mate? Beat my record from last year?"

Harry shrugs, his eyes still on Y/N. "Sixty-seven kisses. Not bad for an hour."

"Sixty-seven people willingly put their lips on yours?" Y/N asks, genuinely astonished. "Were they blindfolded first?"

Harry laughs, a rich sound that Y/N reluctantly admits (to herself only) is rather nice. "You know, most girls on campus would consider it a privilege."

"I'm not most girls," she retorts.

"No," he agrees, his tone shifting to something more sincere, "you're definitely not."

The unexpected compliment throws her off balance momentarily.

Louis claps Harry on the shoulder. "My turn to shine. Though I notice you've still got some energy left for verbal sparring with our favorite psychology major."

"Just trying to convince her to contribute to the cause," Harry says innocently.

Louis looks between them with amusement. "Right. The cause."

As Louis takes his position at the booth and Zayn heads inside, the line shuffles forward. Maya moves with it, leaving Y/N standing awkwardly with Harry.

"I should go," she says, gesturing vaguely toward their dorm. "Papers to write, defense mechanisms to memorize."

"Or," Harry suggests, falling into step beside her as she turns to leave, "you could stick around. I'm done with my kissing duties, but I was going to help Niall count the money later."

"Tempting as it is to watch you struggle with basic math, I'll pass," Y/N says dryly.

Harry chuckles. "You know, one day you're going to run out of clever ways to insult me."

"I doubt that very much," she responds, though there's less bite in her tone than usual.

They've reached the sidewalk now, away from the crowd. Harry stops, causing Y/N to pause as well.

"Seriously though," he says, his playful demeanor slipping just slightly, "it is for a good cause. The children's hospital helped my cousin when she was little. It means a lot."

The sincerity in his voice catches Y/N off guard. It's a glimpse of the Harry that exists beneath the confident, flirtatious exterior, the one she occasionally spots in class when he thinks no one is watching, diligently taking notes and asking thoughtful questions.

"That's...actually really nice," she admits. "The fundraiser, I mean. Not the method."

Harry's smile returns, softer this time. "The method works, though. We raised over two thousand dollars last year."

Y/N glances back at the line, which has only grown longer. "I can see why."

A comfortable silence falls between them, perhaps the first they've ever shared that wasn't charged with their usual antagonism.

"I should really go," Y/N says finally, shifting her textbook in her arms. "Good luck with the rest of the fundraiser."

Harry nods, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a five-dollar bill. "Here."

Y/N looks at it, confused. "What's this for?"

"Consider it a donation in your name," he explains. "Since you refused to participate directly."

She hesitates, then takes the bill. "I'll drop it in the collection box on my way out."

"Or," Harry says, that mischievous glint returning to his eyes, "you could just take the kiss you paid for."

Y/N arches an eyebrow. "Technically, you paid."

"Semantics," he shrugs, taking a small step closer. "The money's going to the same place either way."

For a brief, crazy moment, Y/N actually considers it. There's something in Harry's expression, a mix of challenge and genuine interest, that makes her wonder what it would be like. Sixty-seven girls today alone couldn't be completely wrong, could they?

But then she thinks of the line of girls, the public setting, and her own stubborn pride.

"I think I'll just make the donation," she says, stepping back slightly.

If Harry is disappointed, he hides it well, nodding with a small smile. "Your loss, psychology girl."

Y/N turns to walk away, but pauses after a few steps. "Harry?"

He looks up, eyebrows raised expectantly.

She sighs before turning back to him, “you can kiss my cheek” she grumbles

Harry's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, his usual cocky demeanor momentarily replaced by genuine shock. He recovers quickly, a slow smile spreading across his face, not the practiced, charming grin he flashes at everyone, but something more genuine that reaches his eyes and makes his dimples appear.

"Well, well," he says softly, taking a step toward her. "Psychology girl full of surprises."

Y/N immediately regrets her impulsive offer, but her pride won't let her take it back. She straightens her shoulders, trying to appear nonchalant despite the warmth creeping up her neck.

"It's for charity," she says primly. "And since you technically paid, I suppose it's only fair you get something for your donation. And I dont think youd want Louis or Niall kissing you"

"How generous of you," Harry murmurs, closing the distance between them.

He moves with a deliberate slowness that makes Y/N's heart beat faster. Standing this close, she can smell his cologne, something expensive and woodsy that she's secretly noticed before in class but would never admit to liking. His eyes, green with flecks of gold in the autumn sunlight, hold hers with unexpected intensity.

"Last chance to back out," he says quietly, giving her an opportunity to retreat that she hadn't expected from him.

Y/N swallows but holds her ground, turning her cheek slightly toward him in silent permission. She's acutely aware of the line of girls still visible on the porch, some of whom have noticed this interaction and are watching with undisguised interest.

Harry leans in, one hand coming up to gently brush her hair back from her face. The unexpected tenderness of the gesture sends an involuntary shiver down her spine. His fingers are warm against her skin, and she finds herself holding her breath as he moves closer.

His lips press against her cheek, soft and warm. It's not the quick peck she was expecting, but something more lingering, respectful of the boundaries she set, yet somehow managing to feel more intimate than a simple courtesy kiss. His stubble grazes her skin lightly, and she catches another hint of his cologne, mixed with something that's just distinctly him.

The kiss lasts only seconds, but when Harry pulls back, Y/N feels oddly disoriented, as if something fundamental has shifted between them.

"Thank you for your contribution," Harry says, his voice lower than usual, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

Y/N clears her throat, desperately trying to regain her composure. "I expect a tax receipt," she manages, though her attempt at their usual banter falls slightly flat.

Harry laughs softly, still standing closer than their normal conversational distance. "I'll see what I can do."

From the porch, Louis calls out, breaking the moment: "Oi, Harry! Need you back here, we've got a line situation!"

Harry glances over his shoulder and waves acknowledgment, then turns back to Y/N. "Duty calls."

"Can't keep your admirers waiting," she says, finding her footing again.

Harry studies her for a moment longer, as if trying to solve a puzzle. "You know," he says thoughtfully, "for someone who claims to find me insufferable, you blush very prettily when I'm near."

Before Y/N can formulate a suitably cutting response, Harry takes a step backward, his usual confident smirk returning.

"See you in class tomorrow, psychology girl," he says with a wink, then turns and jogs back toward the house, where the line has indeed become somewhat chaotic.

Y/N stands rooted to the spot, her hand unconsciously touching the place on her cheek where his lips had been. She's annoyed to find that her heart is still beating faster than normal, and even more annoyed that Harry was right, her cheeks are warm with a blush she can't seem to control.

"Ridiculous," she mutters to herself, clutching her textbook tighter and turning resolutely toward her dorm.

As she walks away, she realizes she's still holding the five-dollar bill. After a moment's hesitation, she changes direction and heads back to the porch, where she wordlessly drops the money into the collection box before Harry can notice her return.

Maya, now at the front of the line and witnessing this entire interaction, gives her a knowing look that Y/N pointedly ignores. She'll have enough explaining to do when her roommate returns to their dorm later, no need to give her more ammunition by acknowledging what just happened.

As Y/N finally makes her way back to her building, she can't help glancing over her shoulder one last time. Through the crowd, she catches Harry's eye, he's been watching her leave. Instead of his usual teasing expression, there's something different in his gaze, something that makes her stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with annoyance.

She turns away quickly, but not before seeing the small, genuine smile that crosses his face, one that suggests their dynamic might be shifting in ways neither of them had anticipated when the day began.

Taglist: @hisparentsgallery @toosarcastic03 @practistyles @sstylezzz @sassamanda77 @wheredidmyeyesgo @pbandnutella @triski73 @angeldavis777 @ivegotthecinemaa @bethiegurl19 @spinninc @spargelhund

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

sometimes i take a look at your guys's favorite dripping wet repressed middle aged blorbos and honestly? i think the right foster cat could fix them

[hyunpic]

hyune’s holiday ep. 10 [short and sweet edition]

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books: to go up the chain. that goes against everything we've seen him do. he bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer. there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

[chalkrub]

saw some mangy dog on the outskirts of town

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Trying to hold a pipe steady in your teeth after having not done it in a while is harder than it looks.

This isn't quite one of the pipes Siegfried has in the show, but it's close enough, I like it, and it's comfortable to smoke, should I feel so inclined.

[here-for-the-refreshments]

Peeta: So you're going to be staying at Haymitch's place? Effie: Yes, I'm staying in one of the guest bedrooms Peeta: Uh huh… okay. And for how long? Effie: Well, see… that's the thing. It could be a month or two… or longer... much much longer Peeta: Okay… Effie: Peeta: You know what would make Haymitch really happy? Effie: What would make him really happy? Peeta: He really, really likes toast. Just loves it. Can't get enough of the stuff. I bring him a fresh loaf every morning just for toast! Effie: Peeta: But his toaster just broke… So if you wanted you could take this really lovely loaf I just baked, and y'know… just toast it over an open fire together, he'll be so pleased. Peeta: *hands Effie the fanciest loaf of bread District 12 has ever seen* Effie: Well isn't that just lovely, you're such a thoughtful young man! Thank you Peeta! Effie: *walks off to Haymitch's house with the bread* Katniss: Peeta: Katniss: Did you just marry Haymitch off?

[industrations]

I can’t stop thinking about those tragic lesbians

[ghstyles]

Windows facing | H.S

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WC: 590

Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The early morning sunlight streams through Y/N's bedroom window as she sits at her desk, textbooks spread out before her. Her long hair is tied in a messy bun as she focuses intensely on her studies, highlighter in hand. The sound of a window sliding open across the way catches her attention, but she deliberately ignores it.

"Morning, sunshine!" Harry leans out his window shirtless, his tousled hair still messy from sleep. "Beautiful day to be buried in books, innit?"

Y/N keeps highlighting, refusing to look up, though her jaw tightens slightly.

"Just ignore him and he’ll go away," she mutters to herself.

"I know you can hear me, love," Harry calls out louder, that infuriating smirk laced in his voice. "Those pretty little ears of yours work just fine when you want them to."

With a sigh, Y/N finally looks up, eyes narrowed. "Some of us actually have responsibilities, Styles. Unlike you, who seems to think screaming karaoke at 3 AM is a valid lifestyle."

"You heard that?" He grins, leaning further out the window. "Was thinking of you during 'Isn’t She Lovely.' Dedicated it to you and everything."

"How thoughtful." She rolls her eyes. "Next time, dedicate some silence my way."

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. "Come on over. I’ll make you breakfast. Proper English breakfast. Better than those energy drinks you live on."

She snaps her textbook shut. "I’ve seen your kitchen, Styles. It’s a biohazard. I’d rather eat from the dumpster behind the dining hall."

He gasps, clutching his chest. "You wound me, Y/N. I’ll have you know I’m quite the chef."

She stands and walks to her window. "Is that why the fire department knows your address by heart?"

Harry’s grin widens as his eyes flick down her figure, then back to her face. "They come ‘round so often because I’m just too hot to handle."

"That was terrible. Even for you."

"Got you to smile though, didn’t it?"

Her smirk slips out before she forces it away. "I’m closing my window now. Some of us have exams."

"I’ll be here when you need a break. Or when you finally admit you’re madly in love with me."

“Fuck off” She slams the window shut but can’t stop the slight flush that blooms across her cheeks as she turns back to her desk.

Later that evening, Y/N sits cross-legged on her bed, laptop perched in front of her, fingers flying over the keys as she types an essay. The sudden blare of music from across the way makes her jump.

She storms to her window and throws it open. "STYLES! It’s midnight! Turn that down!"

Harry appears at his window with a guitar in hand, all mischief and dimples. "Was hoping you’d notice. Wrote a song. Want to hear it?"

"No. I want to finish my essay in peace."

He strums a chord like it’s the most natural response in the world. "It’s called ‘The Girl Next Door Who Pretends to Hate Me.’"

"That’s a terrible title."

He chuckles. "Working title. Still in progress." Another strum, softer this time. "Just like us."

She freezes for a beat, eyes flicking to his.

"There is no 'us,' Harry."

For once, he doesn’t joke. His gaze softens. "Not yet. But there will be."

Their eyes hold longer than they should, until she finally looks away.

"Goodnight, Harry," she says, voice lower, quieter.

This time, the window closes gently. The curtains are drawn—though not all the way. Just enough to hear the soft melody he continues to play.

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a/n: Just a little blub. How do we feel about these two?

[elderwisp]

𝒮𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓎𝑜𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝒶…

huge thanks to @surely-sims @lumenniveus and @doctorsimcraft for allowing me to test the Bioshock deco yesterday! it was amazing being able to bring Rapture into my game and you guys truly did a fantastic job ⋆˙⟡♡ here's the link

[clownowo]

🤨

bonus:

[deadtower]

Do you like books about guys and girls that spend the entire book as best friends and don’t get together at any point in the story?

Do you like books where “aaaaagggghhhhh [my telekinesis throws the furniture across the room]” is not just a hilarious Tumblr post, but also something that happens at regular intervals to the deuteragonist?

Do you like books where sixteen-year-olds get sacrificed by their parents to eldritch gods that live in their basement but the sacrifice doesn’t entirely take and they Come Back… Right? Sort Of????

WELL THEN HAVE I GOT THE BOOK FOR YOU.

(It’s my first book and also, like, it’s free on Kindle Unlimited and only $4.99 on Kindle, and if you really can’t afford it, you can send me a message with your email and I can send you a PDF of it, so like… why not, y’know.)

[novelconcepts]

Thinking on how the surviving Yellowjackets are present for one another’s deaths and talk themselves out of culpability. Thinking on how Lottie’s distraction contributed to Travis’ death, how she continued to believe and insist she didn’t kill him. Thinking on how Misty’s injection resulted in Natalie’s death, how she continues to distance herself from fault. Thinking on how Lottie is now dead. Thinking on how Taissa might have been there, but not in control, how that might feel like she wasn’t responsible even if her hands did the pushing. Thinking, thinking, thinking on how they learned this early. We didn’t kill Jackie; the cold did. We didn’t kill Javi; the lake did. We weren’t going to shoot Ben; the Other was. Thinking thinking thinking on how impossible it is to forgive yourself for heinous actions (or inaction) if you refuse to admit to it in the first place.

Thinking thinking thinking on how Natalie was the only one to fully accept the knife in her hand, the blood on her skin, the choice resulting in a man’s death. Thinking on how she came the closest to actually healing. Thinking on how she, from the start, refused the blinders the others need to survive.

[precious-little-bhaalbabe]

Loving the details on what the official Larian Endorsed™️ Modern AU house setups and implied lore are

[rogdona]

[signanothername]

oops me again so sorry for sneaking into your ask-box!

I come bearing warm-up doodles of your little guy because hes such a rancid little thang

i found it quite funny and charming how i sometimes pick up on little accidental similarities between our depictions of the character, even though we draw them so different.

Oughhhh shakes youuuuuu this is amazing I absolutely ADORE your art, the shapppeessss xhdhhdhd <33333

Look at him, all silly and autistic on his chair

I absolutely LOVE your Nightmare’s design! He’s so creature shaped hope you don’t mind me making a lil doodle of him <33333