there are two kinds of people

My thoughts about episode 7x23

I wanted to say something about episode 7x23. To me, it felt very similar to episode 3x20, because of the concept behind both these episodes, because of their meaning, because of the way these episodes gave us a more detailed and even more powerful picture of what was going on in Steve and Danny’s lives when they first met each other.

Episode 3x20 showed us that Steve lost two of the most important people in his life in an awfully short amount of time: first Freddie, then his father. Feeling this kind of pain, he came back to Hawaii… and he chose to stay. Why? He wasn’t (only) motivated by the desire to seek revenge against who killed his father. We saw him turning down, at first, the offer that Governor Jameson made him. He could have gone after Hesse on his own, without being part of Five-0. He was willing to stay in the Navy, to leave Hawaii again… before listening to his father’s message, before meeting Danny, before finding a family with Five-0. Emotions led him back to Hawaii: the ones he felt listening to his father’s words on that recorder and the ones he felt since the first time he met Danny. Steve was a broken man, he needed to be saved and he knew, he just knew, somehow, that Danny was the person that could save him. 

And Danny. A man who was dealing with a failed marriage and a brand new life started in Hawaii just to be able to be close to his daughter, being constantly threatened by his ex-wife with the possibility that Grace could’ve been taken away from him… we saw more of that in this episode, the way Rachel taunted, tortured him, the way he had to fight for the sacrosanct right to see his daughter, the way Rachel prevented Danny from being properly focused on his job, because only her time was valuable, because she had the upper hand and she just loved to twist the knife in Danny’s wounds.

And both episodes show us Steve and Danny feeling awfully guilty… Steve, feeling responsible for Freddie’s death… he was the one who asked Freddie to be part of that mission, he was the one who couldn’t protect him… Danny, knowing that Makino risked his life calling him, while Danny was too busy dealing with Rachel’s tantrums to pick up the phone…

Steve and Danny had such an enormous weight on their shoulders, such an unbearable pain in their hearts when they met each other…  two broken toys who, since the very first moment, started and never stopped fixing each other, giving each other what they needed the most: Danny gave Steve the family he desperately needed and craved for, Steve gave Danny a home, in the largest and most important sense. They saved each other, they keep saving each other, in the most wonderful way.

Among the many, and all so beautiful and so well done, parallels and references to the pilot and 1x08 episodes, I loved one the most. 

In the flashback we see Danny yelling to Rachel that he needs to do his job to be able to make some money and buy things for his daughter, like some water park tickets so he could spend some quality time with Grace… and in the pilot we see Steve giving Danny his first gift, one of many: three nights at the Kahala Hotel … “I heard this place has a pool, you can swim with the dolphins, just take it”. After all the fights, the efforts, the anger, the pain, Steve starts showing Danny that being loved, being happy, can be the easiest thing in the world, a gratuitous, God-given gift, when the right person comes along.

Fate brought these two people together. Somebody, up there, just knew they were meant to be together. The universe conspired so they could find each other, so that Danny could open that file that brought him to Steve’s house, that brought him to Steve.

And yes, life took so much from them, but it gave them so much, as well. It gave Danny someone who tells Grace and Charlie that their father is the best man he knows, that he’s the greatest man ever. It gave Steve someone who tells him “If something happens, I need you to take care of Grace”, someone who asks him to babysit his little son… They fill each other’s life with so much love, warmth, trust, happiness. They built the most perfect family unit together.

And, even if I hope we will soon see a less emotionally constipated Danny, who he’s not afraid of what he feels for Steve (to the point of thinking about retiring so he won’t have to deal – but he fools himself! – with this beautiful emotional mess that is going on in his mind and in his heart), who he’s not afraid of showing it, I think the last scene of this episode was so, so full of love. 

Danny talks to Makino about the people he met: Chin, Grover, Jerry, Kono… he leaves Steve for last, like, you know? like when you’re eating and you leave that one thing you like the most for last, to savor it, to taste it better. 

He talks about this man, “a bit of a putz, big, gigantic pain in my ass. I used to hate him. I still hate him every once in a while… “ … and the flashback to their first meeting starts… then it stops for a moment, so Danny can tell Makino, with all his heart: “Thank you. Thank you”, and right after that we’re in that garage, to relive that moment that changed their life, that made it so much better, giving them the chance to love, be loved, be happy.

And “thank you” is what I want to say, as well, after watching this episode. Even if I’m still afraid my heart will break if these two won’t get the happy ending they deserve, together. But this episode, and these seven years, proved me they’re worth the risk. And I will never stop believing they’re the love of each other’s life and being sure, 100%, that, like I already said yesterday, the most wonderful love books and love movies can’t stand a chance against what this show created with McDanno.

I would be the first one to confess that when Yuuri said “WHO THE HELL IS CHIHOKO?!?! I could search the whole world and no one would be better than you!!!!” I definitely envied Viktor like imagine meeting someone who thinks the world of you despite your flaws and accepts all of you not the person who you pretend to be just to get along with people???? and isn’t it so amazing seeing this two people who are we can all connect to because they are so beautifully human in their flaws and weaknesses. Like damn if that was cheesy but if my lover said that to me, no matter how I’m allergic to cheesiness, my man my dude my bro my gal my pal my girl, I would melt.

viktor and yuuri are so lucky because they met each other and are so in love and gosh even my cynical heart can’t help but y’know wish to find that kind of love

anonymous asked:

A theory I have, due to all the talk of a god, is that Bendy isn't real and it is some eldritch god/evil entity that chose a form beloved by his 'servant' and ran with it. Maybe there's also a good entity that is trying hard to save Henry with Bendy cutouts because Henry sees Bendy as good too...IDK...I've only played Chapter 2 recently and my friend kept demanding I pause it because it was too scary. :P

Play Chapter 1, don’t skip anything. :U

Anyways, this is another theory I see people speculating about. I do think there’s a possibility that “Bendy” is some kind of actual demon or entity that took to form of the dancing demon, I’m still skeptical. Even more so of the theories that try to present the idea of a “good Bendy”.

I suppose my reason for not being too fond of this idea of “there’s two Bendys and the real Bendy is the good Bendy” is because it removes consequence from the character. Bendy would no longer be held accountable if he turned out to be this little cinnamon roll who’s a poor victim of the big bad evil Bendy. There’s ways to make this interesting(I kinda like how ShinyZango is going about it with the 2D Bendy AU), but the idea of presenting two Bendys where one is perfect and good and the other is nothing but evil kinda feels boring.

anonymous asked:

I'm writing a story and I could use some help. In the story there are two friends, they're really close almost like brothers. At the end of the story the main character finds out his friend has actually been doing awful things (stalking, threatening him and people he cares about, etc.) How can I give the readers subtle hints that the one friend is obsessive/possessive of the main character And how can I write that the protagonist kind of over looks him or takes him for granted?

Okay! Becmfore i start im obviously gonna tag this one for triggwr warnings: warning for abuse. Both physical and mental. Manipulation. Isolation. And depression! Be careful guys,i dont want to harm ir trigger anyone!

Okay, do all the stuff you just told me they do; the stalking, threatening, and isolating them.but tone it down a little. Make it smaller on the paper,and larger off. It’s not uncommon for abusive traits to slip by unnoticed if you do them them a certain way. If you do these things, but play it off a bit like they are doing it to be nice. Then your character would never know. In my experience, there are a few signs of abuse that if done a certain way, can be disguised as love.

1. Control. Controlling your partners life, and their schedule down to every last detail. All the whens, whys, what’s, where’s and who. Things like planning out their weekly schedule and not letting them be around other people. There is a huge difference between “sweetheart, can you do some grocery shopping tomorrow? We are out of a couple things.” And “honey, I’m gonna have you go to the market down the street tomorrow morning at 9 am. I need you back by 11 no later. I’ve made out a list of everthing you need to get.” There’s also a difference between “I know you had plans today, but I’m not feeling well. Could you stay home with me?” And “I don’t want you to go hangout with them. You don’t need them. Stay here with me. I’ll be so hurt and lonely if you leave.” The second ones don’t have to have controlling or abusive undertones. Unless you make it clear with other abusive like actions. Their are people who like to be precise and punctual and orderly. The difference is the intention, and the build up of everything they do.

2. Isolation. A common thing in abusive relationships is for the abuser to try and isolate their partner so that they have no one to rely on but them. And isolation can be as subtle as things like “I don’t think they’re good for you. They are a bad influence on you, they’ll help you get no where in life.” Or “why are you friends with them? They have never done anything for you and look at everything you do for them.” Making the other people in their lives seem like the villains. And usually leaving the victim with no one but their abuser. Making it harder to see the relationship clearly and hard to break away.

3. Guilttrips. “I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left me. I’d probably die without you.” This is a big one. Guilt tripping someone into staying with you, making them fear what could possibly happen if they left you. This can be used really subtly as ‘what would I do without you?’ Can be dropped casually and often.

4. Need to know and often pushing the limits for that knowledge. Pushing someone out of their comfort zone just for them to admit something is a huge no-no.

5. Demanding. No longer asking for things. But expecting them and demanding them. A form of control. Demanding someone do something,demanding their attention, demanding their presence repeatedly and without the others consent or care can definitely be abusive.

From being a frequent Tumblr user, I’ve learned that for each ship, there are usually two kinds of shippers:

1. The smut shippers, who just want the characters to bang and would be happy with just that.

2. The fluff shippers, who want the characters to get married and have kids and grow old together and have a deep, meaningful relationship built on trust, loyalty and all that stuff.

And for pretty much every ship I’m a fan of, I am some how both of these kinds of people.

the space between i love you and forever, a Ginny x Mike story

Hi, hello, I don’t know what I’m doing or why, but here’s the start to a new story? I hope you enjoy it. xx


Read on AO3

The clink of a pan against her stove and the ‘snick’ and ‘whoosh’ of the gas lighting should worry her, but there’s only two people in the world who’d use a key to her house for her kitchen, and one of them is out of town.

“Mike?” she calls out even though she knows the answer.

“Kitchen, rook,” he replies. “Come make yourself useful.”

She rolls her eyes as she toes off her sneakers and drops her airpods on the little entryway table. She’d prefer a shower first, but knows Mike’s request for her presence in her kitchen has zero to do with any skillful assistance she can provide.

He simply wants her company.

She pads across the open space and pauses for a moment when she reaches the edge of the kitchen island. Mike’s at the stove, gently placing meatballs in a frying pan. They make a satisfying sizzle when the hit the surface and the small smile on Mike’s face indicates his pleasure at the sound.

He’s barefoot and wearing a navy Padres tee and a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair is messy and without its usual styling products, like he’s been running his fingers through it or just rolled out of bed.

It’s a look Ginny truly loves.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Since Arthur isn't the type of person to laugh a lot, what are some things that would make England laugh?

-Most of the time Arthur likes more dry or sarcastic humor, since that’s the kind he usually uses himself. Sometimes he’ll chuckle at his own jokes and people tease him for it.  

-Surprisingly, when he’s not laughing at the previously mentioned jokes, he finds those cheesy YouTube videos of kittens doing funny things hilarious. No one knows about this, and he keeps it under wraps so his reputation isn’t ruined. 

-If anyone plays any sort of prank on Alfred or Francis that makes either of them look ridiculous, he will lose it. Especially if it was him that did it. He doesn’t usually play pranks on those two, but he does on the occasion if he’s in a sad mood and needs to brighten up.

° ✧ WANDER OVER YONDER PROMPTS.

❛ The universe, will soon be MINE! ❜
❛ I’m takin’ you all the way down to Awesome Town. ❜
❛ Are you here to watch the planets align, too? ❜
❛ Look! I even packed a piiicniiiiic! ❜
❛ Crazy, huh? ❜
❛ It’s kind of embarrassing. ❜
❛ Why do ya wanna know? ❜
❛ Dude, text me that photo! ❜
❛ Peepers! Are you telling me what to do?! ❜
❛ Carry on. ❜
❛ I got two turkey sandwiches, But I’ll let you pick! ❜
❛ Mustard or Mayo? ❜
❛ I said I wanted this to be true to life! ❜
❛ That’s what always happens. ❜
❛ People who do this for a living deserve more credit and respect! ❜
❛ We gotta animate a new ending where I destroy ______! ❜
❛ When I see someone who’s a-needin’, I just gotta help! ❜
❛ What a neat little town! ❜
❛ _______! Is that you? ❜
❛ We really like your town! ❜
❛ I’ll do it myself, with THE POWER OF LOVE! ❜
❛ A little lump of love will take the buck out of the bronco! ❜
❛ Look at you and your little hat! ❜
❛ You are so cute, I can’t stand it! ❜
❛ If you start down in the right path, you end up in the right place. ❜
❛ True friendship comes from the heart, not an electric squid to the face. ❜
❛ Never hurts to help! ❜
❛ I’ve been doing this all wrong. ❜
❛ He/she may not be my buddy, but I’m still his/hers. ❜
❛ I like the pretty bracelets. ❜
❛ I’ll help you. ❜
❛ You remember me, right? ❜
❛ Don’t you see? ❜
❛ The planets of this galaxy align over this very spot! ❜
❛ A celestial star being of infinite power shall come forth… ❜
❛ I travel the galaxy. ❜
❛ Sometimes, I make this face, or this one, or this. ❜
❛ Or sometimes I get really crazy. ❜
❛ I have wondered where my best pal ______ is, huh? ❜
❛ A star being of infinite power shall come forth and grant whoever a single wish. ❜
❛ Oh! Where was I? ❜
❛ Soon, at the precise moment of the cosmic conjunction… ❜
❛ And today, the one most worthy to stand here is none other than I. ❜
❛ Yeah, right, bro. ❜
❛ You’re too late. ❜
❛ Fire Breath! ❜
❛ She/he wanted to come, but she/he had to go to the bathroom!  ❜
❛ She/he doesn’t want everybody knowin’ about it. ❜
❛ Well, I don’t know ‘where’ she’s/he’s goin’ to the bathroom. ❜
❛ It’s okay though. ❜
❛ Rude. ❜
❛ I promised her/him I’d take pictures! ❜
❛ Peepers, Flaming Skulls, NOW! ❜
❛ Already loaded, Sir. ❜
❛ The trajectory is locked. ❜
❛ It’s me, ______! ❜
❛ I’m takin’ you all the way down. ❜
❛ Look! ❜

anonymous asked:

introvert culture is cringey as hell, i hope i don't perpetuate that. i often talk about my distaste for partying and drinking but mainly cus my aspergers means it's way too stressful and i hate doing that stuff and i struggle to make any friends because most people my age like doing those kinds of social activities, so i do like to complain about that in a kind of 'damn allistics' way. i hope i'm not being shit when i do that!

imo those are two separate things, it’s something different to complain about “those damn extroverts who cant hold a conversation and are always partying” and about allistic people doing allistic things

the former is being an asshole, the latter is being understanably frustrated

For The Love Of Harry, Part Two

Winter was definitely in full swing in London. The cold winds cut straight through a person with no apologies. You are not a winter person at all, and often wonder why you continue living in London when you would fit more appropriately in a year-round, warm-weathered climate. But you had to admit, you had fallen deeply in love with England since moving here a couple of years before. The architecture, the romance, your job, the people you worked with and had become friends with, the lifestyle. You love being surrounded by people who are so unlike those you grew up with in the US. And if you are being honest, you kind of enjoy being the only American among all of your friends. You like for your friends and acquaintances to ask you what something was like for you when you were growing up, and discover the similarities and differences between the two lifestyles.

As you came off the tube and walked toward your office, you were suddenly wondering why you had chosen to wear a dress and heels today The cold wind shot straight up your skirt, making you cringe and cuss as you eventually find your way through the front door of your office building. You swear it wasn’t that cold when you left your house this morning, that the temperature must have dropped 20 degrees since then. As the elevator door opens on your floor, you step out and smile and greet your co-workers as you pass them, exchanging pleasantries with each, then finally plopping down in your desk chair. You were grateful at that very moment for the heating vent that was directly under your desk. You kicked off your heels and placed your feet atop the vent, removing your coat but draping it around your bare legs and tucking it around, so that the heat from the vent traveled delicately up under your coat.

“Ooooh, that’s goooood,” you moan to yourself, with your eyes closed.

“Should I leave you two alone? Give you a moment?” you hear your best friend, Kari, say.

“Yes!” you tease. “How are you today?”

“Oh, can’t complain,” she replied. “Well, I could, but who the fuck really cares, right? Why in hell did you wear a dress today? Do you not watch the forecast, love?”

“No tv, remember?” you remind her.

Kari rolls her eyes at you. “Never did understand that. What do you do in your free time if you aren’t watching the telly?”

“Not everyone likes tv watching, Kar,” you say.

“Nonsense,” she replies. “It’s a conspiracy to say such things. Shame on you for spreading false gossip.” You smile at her. “By the way, TJ wants your piece by the time you leave tonight. I hope you’ve got most of it done.”

You look at her surprised. “What? I was supposed to have until Friday!” you complain.

“Chance of bad weather by end of week,” she explains. “He wants everything ready just in case.”

“Fine,” you spew like a 4 year old conceding. “Go away, then. I’ll never finish it with you distracting me.”

“It’s a curse, this beauty,” she says teasingly as she leaves your desk and walks back to her own.

For the rest of the day you work diligently on your article. You have never in your life missed a deadline, and you weren’t about to begin now. By mid-afternoon you had barely taken a break from your work to even use the restroom, and had munched on only an apple and some almonds at your desk as your lunch. As you work on citing your sources and polishing what you have written, you have a cold chill that you think must have a life of its own as someone somewhere in the office has apparently opened a door that allowed a freezing breeze to flow through the room. You blow hot air into your cold hands and bend at the waist in your chair, trying to be as close to the heating vent at your feet as you possibly can, your forehead pressing against the edge of the desk top. As you groan at the amazing feel of the warm heat, you hear a familiar voice.

“You alright there, love?” Harry asks, giggling. You immediately sit straight up, nearly knocking your wheeled chair backward and catching yourself before you can fall in the floor. Harry’s eyebrows lift as he laughs from surprising you. “Sorry!”

You grin, shaking your head. “No worries,” you reply. “What are you doing here, Harry?”

“I was in the neighborhood visiting with a friend and realized this is your office building,” he answers, still smiling. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping in without calling you first. Hadn’t seen you in awhile and thought I’d see how you are.”

“Oh!” you smile back at him. “I’m doing fine, thanks. How are you? Staying busy?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Staying quite busy, actually,” he answers. “Hey, what time do you get off work?”

“I just have to finish this article then I’m free,” you reply. “Maybe 10 more minutes?”

“Great! I thought since I was in the neighborhood anyway, I’d see if you could use a lift home,” he grins. “You mentioned awhile back you haven’t a car now. Can’t imagine the walk to the station is a fun one in that wind…and in a dress.”

Looking like you must have been an idiot for wearing it today. “Yeah. Didn’t realize it was so cold out when I left, and I was running late. Here, sit in that chair and I’ll finish this, then we can go. Thanks!”

In a few more minutes, someone walks to your desk. “You never told us you know Harry Styles!” the co-worker beamed.

Another employee steps forward to talk, too. “If I’d known you knew Harry, I’d have asked you to get me an interview a long time ago! How ‘bout it, Harry?”

“Back, you vultures!” you yell at them. “Shoo! Shoo! He didn’t come here to get harassed by you. He gets that enough. Why do you think I never told you I know him? Now, go away, all of you!” You smile as they all say something to Harry then walk away, but continue looking at him off and on. He’s used to it, but you deliberately didn’t tell people you knew him for that very reason.

After another moment, you save and send your completed article and slide your feet back into your heels. “Done!” you announce to him. “Sorry about earlier, Harry.”

“Not a problem, love, I assure you. I’m used to it, but thanks for that,” he smiles and stands. He helps you put your coat on then you pop your head into your supervisor’s office. “Goodnight.”

“I need your article before…” he starts.

“Check your inbox,” you smile. “See you tomorrow!”

You turn and smile at Harry as he follows you out of the office. You walk outside and, after getting into his car, he starts it and turns up the heat. “Won’t take long for the heat to kick back up,” he grins.

You chit chat during the once-familiar drive to your home. Your car was one that Alex had leased in his name, so you weren’t terribly surprised the day the towing company showed up and drove away with it. You realized you didn’t really miss having a car, and decided public transit would work fine for you. As Harry parks his car, you invite him for dinner.

“Harry,” you look at him, “I seem to recall that I owe you dinner. Are you free this evening?”

“I am, actually,” he smiles. “Are you sure? Kind of last minute, if that’s a problem.”

“No problem,” you shake your head. “I put a pot of stew in the slow cooker before I left this morning. Should be ready now.”

“I would love to then!” he agrees. You both go inside and you change out of your work clothes and into something warmer and more comfortable. As you come back downstairs, you see Harry in the kitchen, ladling soup into two bowls and searching for the correct drawer to find spoons.”

“One more over,” you instruct him. “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough for a few meals with this cold weather.”

“Starving,” he said honestly. “Didn’t get lunch today, had a meeting. It looks and smells delicious!”

“Thanks,” you answer. “My mom used to make it every winter. Has a way of really warming your insides.”

You both sit at the table after you fix both of you a glass of wine, and enjoy the food. “It’s really good!” Harry says with a smile. “I’ve missed your cooking. Especially your grilling. Gonna have to do that again sometime. When the weather isn’t so bad, of course.”

“We absolutely will” you say. “So, tell me how you’ve been? Work and whatever else you’ve been doing that’s kept you so busy.”

“Loads of work,” he sighs. “Doing a lot of writing and some studio work. Spent some time in LA for awhile, tying up some loose ends and seeing friends.

“That sounds nice,” you grin.

“Do you ever get back to the states to see family and friends?” he asks.

“Don’t have any family anymore,” you answer. “And I’ve not seen my friends, but we video chat every now and then. Can’t really leave my job for that long, and neither can they.”

“No family?” he asks, surprised. “I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” you grin again. “My parents passed several years ago. They had no siblings and neither did I.”

“I’m sorry about your parents,” he says, genuinely feeling sad about it. He can’t imagine not having his family in his life.

“Long time ago,” you assure him. “More stew?” you ask, seeing he’s finished.

“Not sure where I’d put it,” he laughs, rubbing his belly. “That was really filling!”

“My dad used to call it a “stick-to-your-ribs” meal. Filling and nourishing, get someone through a cold winter kind of meal,” you explain.

“Exactly,” he says. “Wouldn’t mind taking a bowl of it home, though, if that’s alright?” he asks, giving you a puppy dog look.

“Absolutely!” You’re happy he asked. “Except for the nights that Kari comes begging for something to eat, I don’t get to cook for anyone anymore. Kind of miss it sometimes.”

Harry laughs. “Sweetheart, anytime you want someone to cook for, please call me!” You both laugh as you ladle soup into a container and seal it with a lid, then put the remaining soup into a container for the fridge. You quickly wash the dishes and Harry insists on helping. As you finish, you both dry your hands on opposite ends of a kitchen towel as you smile at each other.

“Harry, I don’t know what you need to do now, but I was thinking about watching a movie,” you announce. “Interested? I don’t have a tv, but I watch on my computer. I’m a sucker for a good romantic comedy.”

“Really?” he asks, surprised that she asked. “I’d love to!”

“Great!” you say, walking into the living room. You start a fire in the fireplace for some added warmth and ambiance, then grab your computer and together you choose a movie to watch, setting it on the coffee table in front of you both. Harry pours you both another glass of wine, setting the near empty bottle on the table. You both enjoy the movie, laughing and feeling sappy. When it finishes, you close the laptop and look at Harry. “Have another bottle of wine if you want more?”

“As much as I would love that, babe, I should be going,” he says, looking out the darkened window at the night sky. “Seems to be coming down again. Think the snow is never going to end, I swear.”

“Pretty to look at, but not so fun when you have to get out in it,” you say.

You both stand, Harry grabs his leftovers, and you walk with him to the front door. “Thank you for dinner. Always delicious,” he smiles.

“You’re welcome,” you nod. “Thank you for the ride home, and for keeping me company on a cold wintery night.”

“Anytime,” he says, then leans to you and gives you a hug for a long moment. “I love spending time with you.” He pulls back a bit, looking into your eyes. “I’d love to do it again sometime real soon.”

“I’d love that, too,” you slow-blink at him flirtingly. As you both look at each other longingly, you secretly hope he kisses you. He looks at your lips, then back at your eyes, then grins slightly as he pulls away, releasing your hug. You’re disappointed, but you never expected Harry Styles to be interested in you that way. He was your friend, and up until a few months ago, he was the best friend of your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t think they were friends anymore after what happened, but you honestly had no way of knowing. You had cut off all ties to Alex after you kicked him out, only seeing him once since then when he came to pick up the rest of his things.

“Stay warm, love,” Harry smiled, grabbing your hand and squeezing it, then kissing you quickly on your cheek.

“You too, Harry,” you say. “Let me know next time you need to be cooked for,” you smile and he laughs.

“I will, I promise,” he says, then opens the door and quickly walks out to his car and jumping inside. He waves to you through the front glass as the wipers brush off the fresh layer of snow, then backs out and drives away. You close the door, thinking about the evening. If all Harry wanted was to be your friend, you would accept that. You liked being friends with him. You may have to learn how to squash down the butterflies that seem to flutter inside of you when he looks at you a certain way, or when he laughs at something you say, but you wouldn’t pursue more if you thought he didn’t want it, too. Or at least you would try.

*

Finally a bit of a break in the cold weather! You were only half-way through winter, so a nice warm interruption was just what you needed. You loved when you had a beautiful spring-like day when technically it should be blustery and…well, winter.

It was the weekend and you had already decided to be productive over your warm weekend by painting the spare room of your home that has needed a new, fresh look since you bought the house two years before. You could never get Alex to do it, even when he would say, “No, don’t do it. I’ll get to it eventually!” So today you were taking matters into your own hands.

As you prepare the room by taping the windows and trim, making sure you have all the supplies you need, you realize you forgot the ladder in the garage. One of the purchases that Alex absolutely had to have for all the things he wanted to do to your house. You walk into the garage and see it still hanging on the hooks on the wall, where it’s been since the day he bought it. You shake your head and chuckle slightly, then start to grab it from the wall when you hear your doorbell. You leave it and jog back through the door, into the house, and quickly to the front door and open it.

“Hey!” Harry says, cheerfully. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?

“It is!” you smile at how happy he is. “How are you, Harry?”

“I’m doing great. How are you?” he asks, as he kisses your cheek, his hand on your waist.

“Doing fine, thanks,” you say. “Want to come in?”

“Thanks!” He does and closes the door behind him. “You busy?” he says as he notices the rag on your shoulder and your hair pulled up into a messy bun, old comfy clothes adorning your body.

“Um, sort of…” you say, biting your bottom lip. “I’m painting my spare room today. Taking advantage of the beautiful day so I can open the windows.”

“Really?” he raises his brow. “Care for some help?”

“You want to spend this beautiful, sunny, non-snowy, non-cold day, inside my spare room doing manual labor?” you ask, teasingly.

“I do!” he laughs. “Got nothing better to do. And I’m already here, aren’t I?”

“Well, as long as you don’t mind, I welcome the help,” you thank him. “Come on!”

He follows you to the garage and grabs the ladder off the wall and carries it up the steps for you. It’s a bit comical watching Harry try to not bust holes in the walls along the way as he bumps this one then that one. You gasp and put your hands over your mouth a couple of times, trying to help guide him, until finally he makes it through the door of the spare room.

“Success!” he laughs, setting the ladder up in the middle of the room. “Was easy,” he jests, as he sees the look on your face and you chuckle.

“Ooook!” you say, changing the subject and he laughs. “So, this is the wall color, and this is the trim color.”

“Like that!” he nods. “Will look good in here, too. What is this room going to be?”

“I’m going to set up my music stuff over here on this side, and my workout stuff on this side,” you explain. “It’s been too cold to go all the way in to my gym, or to go for a run, so I’m going to make it so I can have a good workout here.”

“And what music things do you have?” he asks, curious.

“My keyboard and guitar stand, my turntable and vinyls, and….” you think, trying to remember, “Oh, and since it’s a large room, I want to put maybe a little sofa or something in here for when I’m reading or writing. Bit of a hobby room, I guess.”

He looks at you curiously. “A side of you I did not know. How does that happen?”

“Don’t know,” you shake your head and smile. “Embrace the mystery. I guess most of the time when we were around each other, you were probably hanging around Alex and the boys more than around us girls.” You shake the paint cans well and open them, pouring paint into a tray for the rolling, and into a smaller container for painting around the trim. “Roll, or cut-in around the trim?” you ask him.

He is still looking at you, not realizing he didn’t even know you were musically-inclined. He finally snaps out of it, “What?”

“Do you want to roll onto the walls? Or would you rather do the cutting-in around the edges?” you ask.

“Oh,” he says, “Um, I’ll roll.” He grabs the roller pole and gets it covered well, then starts painting the walls while you start the rest. As you both paint, you have music playing from another room and you both sing along as you work.

“So, love,” he says, “I don’t mean to bring up a sore subject, but have you seen Alex since you broke up with him?”

“Um,” you dip your brush into your cup of paint, “Yeah.”

“Really?” he is surprised. You were so angry with him that night. He still remember the punches you landed on your ex, and smirks thinking about them.

“Yeah, only once,” you say. “I texted him to come get the rest of his things, a couple of weeks later.”

“How’d that go?” he asks as he paints.

“How do you think it went?” you look at him as he looks at you, knowing. “I had all of his things setting out in front of the garage doors, so he was none too happy about that. I didn’t want to see him or talk to him, but he used his key to get into the house. I hadn’t thought about changing the locks yet, so it freaked me out a bit when he unlocked the door and came in before I could put the latch on the door.”

“Did he?” he looks at you, concerned. “He didn’t, like, cause any trouble, did he?”

You sigh a deep sigh. “Not really.”

“Not really?” he asks, stopping what he was doing and looking at you. You look at him and frown a bit.

“He begged me to take him back,” you admit. “Tried to…cozy up to me.”

“Tried to seduce you,” he states, more to the point.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I guess so. But, that wasn’t going to happen, and I let him know that, in so many words, pissed him off once again, and he stomped around the house, looking to see what I had no doubt kept of his that I apparently wanted.” You roll your eyes. “Like I need or want his crap. Yeah, I really want your porn magazine collection, you big perv.” Harry giggles, but doesn’t like you having to deal with Alex. “When he couldn’t find anything of his in the house, I waited until he was outside the door, then slammed the door in his face when he turned to talk to me, and I locked all the locks and put the latch on. When he started beating on the door, I threatened to call the police if he didn’t take his things and go.”

“What an ass,” Harry says. “He used to be a fun guy, but he’s changed a lot, I think.” You nod and keep painting.

“You’ve not seen him or talked to him then?” you ask him.

“No, and I’m glad,” he admits. “He texted me later that night, and for a couple of days after, wanting to try and talk and still be friends or whatever, but I didn’t answer and haven’t heard from him since.”

“Like Kari said, good riddance,” you say without looking at him as you continue to paint.

You both continue to paint for hours until finally, the room is completely finished, and you are both tired and paint-splattered. You finish what you are doing and turn and see Harry lying in the middle of the floor on his back, his hands on his ribs with his eye closed.

“Good God, I’ve killed Harry Styles,” you tease, as he laughs and opens his eyes. You walk to where he is and lay down next to him. “It looks good, doesn’t it?” You look around the room and so does he.

“Yeah, it really does,” he agrees. “We do good work!” He lifts his arm for a high-five, which you return, and he moans from how sore his arms are from painting, and you giggle. He smiles and looks at you, thinking you look beautiful, even with paint on your face and in your hair. He smiles as he notices a spot of paint on your nose. He uses his finger to wipe it away, not realizing he has even more paint on his finger, which smudges down your nose. Your eyes get huge as you look at him and he draws his lips into his mouth and shoots his eyebrows high, then giggles. You giggle, slyly dipping your finger into your paint cup which is setting near you, and trace your finger right down his cheek.

“No, you didn’t,” he says as you giggle. “I can’t believe…” he says, as he leans up on his elbow, crossing his arm across your stomach and quickly dipping his finger into your paint cup, then doing the same to you along your cheek and jaw. You both laugh as you lay under him, and he looks at you with a smile. He looks into your eyes, to your lips, then slowly lowers himself to your mouth, taking your lips to his own. He kisses you softly, tasting your kiss in return, then pulls back and looks at you again, to make sure you were okay with him kissing you. You lift the corners of your mouth slightly, enough for him to know you were definitely alright with his risk-taking. He leans to you once again, kissing you deeply, his hand on your ribs, then your waist, pressing his body against yours. You feel his hand caress you as you taste each other, your tongue exploring his as your kiss lingers for a long moment. Harry leans away and looks at you, and smiles.

“Wanted to do that for a long time, you know,” he says shyly, rubbing his hand along your hip, resting it on your waist.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask him, thinking his “long time” meant hours, days, maybe.

“You had a boyfriend,” he states, matter-of-factly. He leans to you once again as you wrap your arm up around his shoulder and pull your body into his. You kiss for another moment until you hear the doorbell downstairs. You stop kissing and look at each other, his lips still ghosting over yours. “Maybe they’ll go away, love,” he smiles before kissing you again, but you hear the doorbell again and Harry groans slightly.

“I’ll go see who it is. Hold that thought,” you sigh then move from underneath him as he lays back on the floor once again, smiling to himself, pleased that he had finally kissed you. You walk downstairs, smiling, and peek through the little peephole of the door, and see Kari’s eye on the other side, looking into the hole. “Geez!” you gasp, not expecting to see an eye up close. You open the door and Kari walks in.

“Feed me!” she begs. “Please! I’m starving, babe!” She notices the paint on your face and clothes and stands back. “Oh, is this a new look?”

You giggle at her. “Yeah, it’s known as Monet grunge. Is it me?” you say as you pose.

Kari kisses her cheek. “Sweetheart, you are always beautiful, even with paint face.”

“That’s the truth,” they hear Harry say as he descends the staircase, walking toward them.

“Oh! I’ve interrupted some weird sex thing, haven’t I?!” Your friend finally realizes the depth of what she just teased. “Have I?!” she says excitedly.

Harry giggles, as you explain. “Harry helped me paint the spare room today. We just finished a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” she says, a frowning look of disappointment on her face. “Just actual painting, eh? Alright, then. Now, can you feed me, please? I’ve been drinking and need nourishment,” she begs again.

“No,” you refuse, “but I will order some food for delivery. Harry, you in for some food?”

“Sounds good, love,” he smiles.

The three of you enjoy some take-away and talk for awhile, until you see Kari has fallen asleep, in one of the big, comfy chairs in your living room. You look at her and sigh, then look at Harry as he grins at you. You stand and cover her with a blanket, then sit back down again on the sofa, Harry pulling you more closely to him.

“You’re a good friend to her,” he says, thinking your friendship with your best friend is cute.

“She’s a good friend,” you smile. “Good for my ego, too!” you laugh and Harry chuckles.

“Yeah, think she has a bit of a crush on you,” he says, smiling. “But who wouldn’t have?”

You smile at his comment, then look at your friend again. “In the couple of years I’ve lived here, she and I have been through a lot together. I met her the first day I landed in England, at the airport. She had just flown in from a trip somewhere, and Alex was late picking me up, so I sat for a long time waiting on him, and she sat down next to me and kept me company.”

“Just like that?,” he smiled.

“She’s a bit forward, if you’ve not noticed,” you both laugh. “When Alex didn’t show up after 40 minutes, she grabbed my hand and started pulling me to the door, saying I could stay with her until my ‘sod of a boyfriend’, as she called him, got off his ‘bloomin’ arse’ and decided to come get me. She and I just hit it off and have been best friends ever since.”

“It’s good to have one person you can always depend on,” he said, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “She does lack a good sense of timing though, doesn’t she?” he laughs.

You laugh and agree. “That she does. Who is that person for you, Harry? That person you can always depend on.”

“I’d say, choosing only one, my mum,” he says, grinning. “I think it’s important to be close with your family.”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “I miss that sometimes.” He holds your hand sweetly, realizing you don’t have that with family anymore, and how that must feel.

“I hope you know, you can always depend on me,” he says, lovingly. “I’d like for us to spend more time together, if you want that, too, that is.” He takes his hand and caresses your jaw with it.

“I do want that, too,” you say, softly. He gently pulls your jaw closer and kisses you sweetly, then more deeply, as you let him pull you into him. You feel the rising heat of the kiss inside of you, before pulling away, as you hear Kari moan and giggle in her sleep, and you both look at her. Harry chuckles and kisses the side of your head, hugging you, then standing.

“I’m going to go, sweetheart,” he says. “Someone worked me to death today. Afraid I’m going to be feeling that for the next day or so,” he laughs quietly.

You stand and walk with him to the door, and like the feel of Harry holding your hand. You stand at the door and look at him with a grin.

“Thank you for helping me paint, today,” you say. “Would have taken me much longer without your help.”

“I didn’t mind at all,” he says. “It was fun. I always enjoy spending time with you.”

You smile at each other, as Harry leans in to you and kisses you sweetly, loving the taste of your lips, pulling you into another deep kiss. You feel his hands move to your waist as he pulls your body closely to his once again. Your hand finds his jaw as you return his kisses, until you are both nearly breathless.

“I also enjoy kissing you,” he grins.

“Can’t explain how much I enjoy it, too,” you agree.

He kisses you again, then opens the door. “I’ll call you tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you tell him. He leans to you once again, leaving brazen, little kisses on your lips, then walking away. He turns and waves to you and you wave back, watching as he leaves. You walk back inside, hear Kari snoring in her chair and leave a light on dim so she can see if she wakes, then go upstairs, shower, and go to bed.

*

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, you spend time with Harry as you both can, but he finds he has to travel back to LA for some work needing done. One night while he is there, he video calls you.

“Harry?” you ask sleepily, looking at the screen then turning on your light, as it’s middle of the night in London. You had assumed it was Kari, needing you to come pick her up somewhere, either lost or too drunk to find her way back home.

“Hello, love!” you hear Harry’s voice and see him in the sunshine on the screen. “Shit, I woke you, didn’t I? Forgot about the time difference for a second, I guess.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “How is LA?”

“Warmer than London, I’m guessing,” he chuckles, knowing the weather has turned bitter again in England. “Beautiful here, today. I wish you were here, you would love it. Ever been to LA?”

“Um,” you think, still a bit bleary-headed but waking. “Yeah, once when I was a kid, but I don’t really remember it very well. I was young.”

“I’d love to bring you here someday,” he says. “Could show you around a bit.”

“I’d like that,” you smile.

“I’m sorry I woke you. I was just thinking about you and wanted to see your face,” he explains.

“I’m glad you did,” you promise. “Always love to talk to you.” He smiles from you saying it, liking to hear it. He hoped you liked him as much as he did you. “When are you back, Harry?”

“Saturday,” he says. “My flight lands Saturday morning. Are you home then?”

“Actually, I have to work this weekend,” you say, sadly. “My supervisor has required everyone to work this weekend due to the big snowstorm we’re expecting next week. It’s due-in next Thursday, I think, and we have deadlines for printing.”

“That sucks having to work the weekend, though,” he says, disappointed.

“Yeah, it does,” you agree, “But it’s going to be good money. Double-and-a-half pay will help if we lose time from the snowstorm.”

“Still, you should get time off. That’s at least 10 days of work in a row,” he says.

“It’ll even out,” you say, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

“I guess what I’m trying to say, is it will suck not getting to spend time with you this weekend, because you’ll be working,” he says, smiling, his dimples shining. “I was looking forward to spending some time with you. I’ve missed you,” he says with a shy grin.

“I’m sorry. I’ve missed you, too,” you say, disappointed. “Guess we both have our own work obligations. Mine making me work the weekend, yours making you work in LA.”

Harry sighs. “Too true, love. Alright, going to let you get back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you.”

“I’m not,” you smile and watch him smile. “Anytime, please.”

“I’ll remind you of that next time I call and it’s 3 in the morning,” he smiles. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you say, then disconnect the call. You lay in bed, smiling and thinking about Harry until you fall asleep once again.

*

You work long hours the rest of the week, and by Saturday evening, you look at your vibrating phone which shows a call coming in from Harry. You smile, happy for the respite from your work.

“Hey! Make it back okay?”

“I did,” he says, happily. “How are you?”

“Working my life away,” you sort of joke. “Late night at the office.”

“You’re at work?” he asks, shocked. “Sweetheart, it’s after 10 at night!”

“Yes,” you say, resigned. “One of my co-workers refused to work the weekend and was abruptly fired, so guess who had to take over her column?”

“You’re doing your job and someone else’s? That doesn’t seem rightly fair,” he says.

“I’m getting a nice bonus because of it, so I’m not complaining,” you say, yawning.

“Love, I don’t like that you’ll be leaving so late,” he says. “It’ll take me a bit to get there, but let me come pick you up and get you home.”

“Harry, thank you, but it’s okay,” you assure him. “I’m staying at Kari’s tonight. She’s working, too, so we’ll just crash at her place. It’s not far from here, so it’ll be easier coming back tomorrow morning.”

“I really don’t mind,” he says, but you stop him.

“I appreciate it, but it’s late and I know you’re tired from traveling. I don’t want you to get out and drive all the way here, then all the way to my house and back home again. It’s really okay, and thank you for offering”.

He sighs heavily. “Alright. As much as I would love to see you, you’re right, I’m exhausted. Are you at least able to leave to go to Kari’s soon?”

“Yes,” you say with a tired voice. “I’m almost finished for tonight and she’s getting her things together now. Probably won’t even stop for food. I’m ready for my head to hit a pillow.”

“I can imagine so, babe,” he says, hearing how tired you are. “Get some sleep, and hopefully I can see you over the next couple of days. Let me know when you have time, okay?”

“I will,” you agree. “Working 15 hour days every day is wearing me down. I don’t know how you do that so often in your job.”

“Honestly, sometimes I don’t know either,” he chuckles. “Get sleep soon, love.”

You and Harry don’t get much chance to spend time together again for the next few days, with your long work hours and his schedule. You stay at Kari’s, collapsing to sleep every night, and Harry works long hours at the studio, and writing deadlines, so your time together is spent only in a couple of short phone conversations.

By Wednesday you are pressed for time, trying to finish your deadline. The weather forecasters are saying the storm is moving in a bit sooner than they had initially predicted, possibly even this evening rather than tomorrow. And as much as you love Kari, you have been living with her for nearly a week and you are just ready to be in your home again. You finally finish all of your work, submit it to your supervisor, and put on your coat to go outside into the blustery wind and cold. You are prepared this time, knowing the weather is getting bad, and have dressed appropriately in warmer clothes, snow boots and thick socks, and a heavy coat, with hat, scarf, and gloves. You had quite a walk from work to the nearest tube station, then another long walk from the station near your home, until you hit your front stoop. You stood on the warmer side of the glass doors, staring out at the hard-blowing snow. It’s wet snow, too, so you know the roads, if not already, were going to be a mess soon. You wrap your scarf tightly around your face and neck, pulling down your hat well over your ears, and tucking the ends of your gloves into your coat sleeves, trying to prevent any cold air from slipping inside. You open the doors and are nearly knocked off your feet by the strong winter winds, but find your balance and start the long walk to the tube station, hoping they’ve not started shutting them down due to the weather conditions. It takes much longer than usual, as you fight the winds, sometimes nearly being blown over by them. Finally after what felt like years, you step onto the platform and see you have a moment to sit and rest. It was exhausting and, even with the layers, you were freezing. As you sat waiting, you feel your phone vibrating inside your bra and pull it out with numb fingers. You see Harry’s name at the top of your screen and start to answer but then see the train pull up and stop, so you tuck it back inside your bra and step onto the crowded train car. You would call him as soon as you got home, he would understand. After the long trip to your home station, the train finally came to a stop. You made sure you were once again covered well before stepping back out into the frigid, strong winds.

Harry had tried calling your phone several times but got no answer, and you didn’t reply to his texts. He knew the storm had come in earlier than you had expected it to, and was worried about you getting home safely. He even called your office to see if you were still there, but was told you had left long ago. When he still had not reached you and was at his brink of worry and losing patience, he put on his warmest clothes and coat and got into his vehicle, flipping it into 4-wheel drive to combat the storm-ridden roads, then set off to try and find you. He slowly drove to where your tube station was, occasionally trying your phone again with no answers, then traced the roads back to your house, knowing the way you probably walked. It was dark, wet, terribly windy, and miserable out. He looked up and down the streets and sidewalks, hoping to see you somewhere.

“Come on, love, where are you?” he said to himself. Some of the roads were bad enough that they were already closing them due to high snow drifts and ice, and Harry had a bit of trouble a couple of times getting through. When he is within just a few blocks of your house, his eyes roam up and down the streets and sidewalks, until he sees the figure of a person walking slowly, trying to get through the snow and ice, then stopping as if needing to rest. Harry got closer, trying to see if it was you, or someone needing help, always willing to help when he can. He sees the person take another step then fall on their hands and knees into the icy snow, staying in that position for a moment, before trying to get up again. Harry pulls his car closer, then quickly gets out and goes to the person. He pulls the hood of his hoodie and coat over his woolen, cap-covered head, and bends to help the person up. He feels panic and relief all at the same time as he realizes the person is you.

“It’s me, babe,” Harry hollers against the strong winds. “Come on!” He helps you up, but you have trouble walking, your legs and feet frozen and barely able to move anymore. “The car’s just here!” He puts his arms around your waist and practically lifts you off the ground, moving you to the passenger side of the car and helping you inside, then closing the door. He runs back to his side, climbing in, and slamming the door closed. He looks at you with worry. “Are you okay?” he asks, but you are too frozen to speak, and past the point of exhaustion, closing your eyes and leaning against the head rest of the leather seat. He makes sure the heat is on full blast then as quickly as the weather will allow, he drives to your home and into the driveway. Coming around to your side of the car, he helps you to the front door, where he finds your keys in your pocket and unlocks the door, getting you both inside the house before closing the door behind you. You are both breathing heavily, and he notices the ice hanging on your hat and scarf, and on the wisps of hair that have come out from under your winter cap. “Babe, are you okay?” he asks, as he helps get your wet outer clothes off of you. You don’t answer, not really hearing him, just looking at him through exhausted eyes, like you aren’t sure if you are dreaming or not. He pulls off the scarf and hat and removes his own, then rubs the skin on your face. “Come on, love.”

He helps you into the living room and starts a fire in the fireplace. He sees you are just standing, not moving, not talking. He grabs the floor pillows and warm blankets, and pulls your coat the rest of the way off of you. “Sit here in front of the fireplace,” he says as he helps you down to the floor, knowing your limbs are probably freezing and painful to move. He wraps a blanket around you, removing his coat and sitting closely to you, his legs around you and wrapping his arms around you, covering your legs with another blanket. “Better?” he asks as he feels you shaking. He sees you nod your head and rubs your arms and legs, trying to improve the circulation you’ve lost from the freezing temperatures. He kisses the side of your face, feeling it’s still freezing. After a bit, he thinks you feel a bit less rigid and more relaxed. “How are you doing, love?”

“So tired,” you say, nearly at a whisper.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are,” he says. “Crazy girl, trying to walk all that long way in this weather. I’m just glad I found you.”

“Couldn’t get…my legs…to work anymore,” you say quietly and shakily.

“It’s okay,” he comforts you. “Gonna get you all warmed up now. I’m just going to go fix us both a hot drink. You stay here in front of the fire, alright?” You nod, he kisses the side of your head, then stands and goes to the kitchen to make the tea. In a few minutes, Harry walks back into the living room, just as the electricity goes out. He stops for a second, thankful for the light of the fireplace. He looks and sees you lying down on one of the large pillows in front of the fire. He sets the mugs on the hearth then sits next to you. “Come on, love,” he takes your hand. “Made us some hot toddy’s. That should help warm you up inside and out.” You sit up and take the mug from him, your hands still shaking but not as badly. “Power’s out now. Good thing for the fireplace, yeah?”

You nod, taking another drink. “It’s good, thanks,” you say, holding the cup out a bit, then taking another sip.

“Not everyone’s liking, but when you’re cold, it hits the spot,” he says with a grin, sipping his own.

You take another sip then set the mug back on the hearth, pulling the blanket back up to your chin, then hiding your face in its warmth for a moment.

“Feeling better?” he asks, rubbing your back.

“Yeah, much,” you say, looking at him. “Thank you for coming looking for me.” He grins at you. “Why did you?”

“Couldn’t find you,” he says, moving hair from your face. “I knew you left work. I called and they said. You weren’t answering your phone. The worry just kept building. I wanted to make sure you got home safely, that you were okay.”

He grins at you again as you look at him. You’re not used to people being that way with you. You’ve always been the one who took care of everyone else. He’s always been sweet to you, and you know he cares for you, but to risk going out in a winter storm to make sure you were safe…even Alex wouldn’t have done that. You lean to him and kiss him sweetly on his lips, feeling him pull you slightly closer to him. You pull back a bit, then he sees you shake again, seeing the exhaustion still in your eyes.

“How about we lay here and rest for a bit, hm? No power for awhile, I’m guessing,” he says, then adjusts the large floor pillows so you both can rest comfortably in front of the fire. “Gonna have to share those blankets though,” he giggles, and you smile, then lay on the pillow, facing the fire. Harry lies down behind you, covering you both well with the blankets, then putting his arm around your waist and kissing the side of your face, then your neck and shoulder. “Rest, babe.”

*

You have no idea how long the two of you lay in front of the fire sleeping, but it was still dark when you woke, hearing Harry snoring lightly in your ear. Somehow you had managed to turn around and was facing him. He was holding your hand in one of his, and had his other arm under your pillow. You lay beside him, watching him sleep, and thinking. Harry must really like you to have done what he did. At first you felt he maybe had just felt sorry for you after Alex hurt you, and just wanted to be a friend to you. Then over time, you questioned in your mind your level of friendship, or if he wanted more. But his kiss. You’d always heard that you can tell a lot about a person by the kiss you share. You didn’t know what that meant for the longest time, but maybe you were beginning to understand better. You never really felt much of anything when Alex kissed you. But Harry…that was a different story all together. When Harry kissed you, you felt it from your reeling head to your curled toes. He made you feel like all he wanted was to taste your essence. Like you are the most delicate dessert that he can never get enough of.

You lay, watching his lips. The perfect shade of pink, you think. And so soft and gentle. You watch them as he sleeps next to you, feeling the burning desire inside of you to feel his kiss again. You didn’t want to wake him, but God, you loved his kisses. You gently snuggle closer to him and lightly kiss his lips, then pull back and watch him continue to sleep. You lean to him again, placing your tender kiss on his lips, lingering a moment longer, then feeling his own kiss you back as his hand squeezes yours lightly. You pull away again and look at his face, as he opens his eyes, gazing at you. You see the firelight in his eyes as he watches you. You swear when he looks at you, he must be able to see straight into your deepest thoughts and feelings. You study each other, saying nothing, as you lean toward him and kiss him once more, your lips melting into each other naturally. You feel his hand release yours as it travels to your waist, your back, drawing you closer to him, as his breath seems to catch in his throat for a short moment. You feel his leg wrap around yours as he kisses you almost desperately. You slowly move your mouth from his, to his jaw, peppering kisses and nibbles along the precision line and down his neck. You hear a light moan from his throat as he rubs his hand up and down your back, kneading your ass, your thigh, pulling your body as firmly against his as he can with clothes on. Your mouth trails to his Adam’s apple and kisses it, then lowers inside of his shirt, kissing his tatted chest.

He moves his face to yours, kissing you deeply, then traces his lips down your neck, leaving little bites along the way, loving how you whimper slightly from them. You feel his hand moving inside your shirt, over your ribs, then smoothing his hand lightly over your bra-covered breast. He lifts the fabric of your shirt, kissing the silky top of your breast over the lace trim of your bra, slowly inching the lace down, revealing your nipple. He breathes you into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue, teasing it into a hard nub. He tastes you before turning you enough to treat the other the same. You watch him as he looks at your breasts, full as they are, fitting perfectly in his large hands as he massages them, suckling them with his mouth until he is satisfied with how erect and saliva-soaked your nipples have become. He traces his mouth back to yours and kisses you passionately, his breathing increasing as his hands find your waist. Nipping at your lips, he feels your hand move to the large log growing rapidly in his jeans. He moans at your touch, kissing you even more intensely. He lifts you enough to pull your shirt over your head and unclasps the hooks of your bra, as you make haste of unbuttoning and removing his shirt. His eyes trail to his jeans, seeing your hand freeing him of them. Harry impatiently slides his jeans down and off, his socks being lost in the denim heap at his feet, then turning back to you. You gasp slightly as you see his tattoos, prominent against the fire light. Those tattoos do something to you, and it had been ages since you’d seen them. You lean to him, planting kisses on some of them, darting your tongue over one of his nipples, then nuzzling your face into his soft curls as you feel him unfastening your jeans, while sucking and pulling on your breasts once again.

“Lie back, baby,” he whispers. You do as he says, as he pulls your jeans down your body, still damp from the snow earlier in the evening. He looks at you, lying on the floor in front of him, naked except for your lacy pink panties. His eyes roam up and down your body slowly, as if he is trying to memorize every measure of you, making you squirm slightly but turned on all the same. He slowly moves over you, like a panther about to devour his prey, and says with wild eyes, “So beautiful.”

You reach your hands to touch his tattoos, then his ribs, as he leans down and kisses you once again. That kiss. It does things to you that you can’t exactly explain. Harry presses his chest against yours, as his mouth kisses from your lips to the crook of your neck, traveling down until reaching your collarbone, where he once again nibbles and bites at you, sometimes to the point of slight pain, but it was a good pain that you didn’t want to stop. He slowly kisses his way down your body before parting your legs and settling himself between them. He massages your hips as he kisses across your tummy and groin, then lower further, leaving wet kisses on the insides of your thighs, causing you to barely breathe. He nuzzles his nose into the fabric of your panties from between your legs, up to your most sensitive spot, then kisses it, pulling at your clit through the fabric. Your breasts move rhythmically with your increased breathing, as Harry continues to tease your clit over your panties, until they become soaked from your own wetness. Harry notices the saturated fabric and moans, kissing the damp softness of your panties. He looks at you again as your eyes meet, then looks again between your legs, pulling the panties from your body and tossing them on the floor next to you. He places light, sucking kisses above your clit, enjoying your soft, shaven mound, then nudging your clit lightly with the tip of his nose as you catch your breath. He spreads your thighs further apart, holding them down and out of his way, before planting kisses on your lips, parting them with one finger, that then gently slides inside of you. He hears your breathing change slightly, as he nibbles on your inner thighs, kissing each sting to soothe it away. Harry sucks in his breath as he slides two fingers along your slick folds, lightly coating your clit with your wetness, then pushes them inside of you again, his tongue teasing your clit gently.

There was something about the fact that neither of you were saying anything. Normally you loved good dirty talk. Turned you on like nobody’s business. You were a firm believer that a really good kiss, or amazing filthy talk, are some of the best foreplay there is. But the fact that it was completely quiet except for the crackling fire, the spitting ice and snow against the house, and Harry’s mouth tasting your body, somehow made it very intimate. Like he was taking his time, learning what you like, wanting to pleasure you beyond your expectations, better than you have ever experienced.

You gasp loudly, suddenly shocked out of your thoughts, as you feel Harry’s hot, wet tongue plunge deeply inside of you. He presses his face firmly between your legs, as you feel his moan vibrating against your most sensitive parts. You feel him swipe his tongue from your lips up to your clit, not once, not twice, but three times, each time a bit more slowly and intentionally, and you moan loudly from the intense pleasure of it. You’ve never been quiet in sex, and Harry was learning this quickly, but it told him he was making you feel exactly as he wanted you to, exactly what you needed to feel. He looks up at you as he suctions his lips around your clit, teasing it with his tongue, his fingers finding their way inside of you again, curling up and pulling back to him slowly, over and over again, against the spot he knows will do you in. You moan his name loudly, your hand moving to his curls, pulling his face against you, slowly bucking up against each stroke of his fingers inside you, causing him to moan but not let go of your slippery nub. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so much during sex. You look at him again, seeing only his curls between your legs as he works eagerly to make sure you are enjoying it as much as he is. He kisses your clit, looking at your face as he feels you squeezing his fingers. His tongue traces lightly over you as he continues working you inside. He swallows hard, pressing his nose against your tiny button, licking you from his hand to your sensitive nerves over and over. He feels you clamp tightly around his fingers and watches your face as you begin to tremor in orgasm. You moan “Harry!” loudly as your body trembles and quakes with overwhelming release. You hear him moan more aggressively as his lips and mouth smack and drink your juices, cleaning you thoroughly with his strong tongue. Your hands grab the blanket under you, balling it in your fists as you slowly learn how to breathe again, looking up at the ceiling as you feel Harry’s fingers move from inside you and rub you gently along your slit, soothing you, then crawling up your body. You see the glistening remnants of you on his chin and cheeks and now brightly red and swollen lips, shining from the fire’s glow against his face. He smears his hand lightly over his face, then kisses you, and you can taste yourself on his mouth. He pulls back again and you still see the wild look in his eyes.

“Again, love?” he asks.

***********************

Thank you for reading Part Two of For The Love Of Harry. I hope you liked it, and I welcome your feedback, asks, and comments. Thank you for the good response to Part One. I will begin working on Part Three this week, and I’m curious to read your reaction to Part Two. How you respond to my writings will determine if I continue writing stories to post, so please, if you like it, let me know! Also I will be starting my Music Series, a collection of Harry short stories and one shots, based on songs and lyrics, as well as creating a Masterlist if it seems people are enjoying my writings. Please keep in mind I’m used to writing in screenplay format, so adapting my stories for posting is new to me, and I apologize for any mistakes. And I still deal with my smut-demons, so Harry, if you read any of this and are offended, please feel free to let me know and it is history! :) Thanks for reading!

i hate when many ppl ignore the fact that mlm relationships r so fetishized??? we are just some sick fantasy for straight girls and our relationships r just reduced to sex, yaoi and shipping & fanfiction… do u know how fucking uncomfortable this is… 

our sexuality is just ‘gay ships’, our sexuality is just ‘sin’. our sexuality is reduced to kpop ships and ugly shit like ‘’killing stalking’’. mainly we arent treated seriously, because straighties prefer to ship two straight guys than look out for irl gay people… we fucking exist

we fucking exist, we want to be treated seriously. we dont want to exist in bubble u created for us. we dont want to be associated w yaoi, kpop ships etc. and the fact that doesnt help it at all is people often ignoring this kind of behavior. ppl seeing this shit and not reacting. ppl ignoring mlm fellas that ask for some representation, some shot out. dont fucking pretend u care for every lgbt+ person if u ignore gay men.

2

At his rental home, Lawrence is calling the airport to find out when his ride will be there. He is all packed up and, despite meeting some cool people here, more than ready to be back in Starlight Shores, relaxing in his own home, or perhaps writing a new song.

Lawrence: Hello, my flight is supposed to be in an hour and the cab is still not here. Wait, what? The flight is delayed? Oh, alright, I can wait another hour. What!!! The flight won’t even happen today? Or tomorrow? What kind of an airline is this!

- Well, Josi, looks like you and I are going to be here for another two or three days. Maybe I should call up Mireille again… the only plus to this situation.

Josephine: And maybe I should chew through his new guitar case…

tempus-traverse  asked:

Let's be honest we all wondered at one point why goofy could talk and wear clothes

Funny enough, I was never one of those kids. XD I was actually more confused about what kind of dog Goofy was rather than wondering why Pluto has to wear a leash but Goofy doesn’t (it’s also fair to point out that Minnie also has had a dog on a few occasions but whatever).

I think part of why I never questioned it is because I was already used to the cartoons making a distinction between animals that are more like “people” and animals that are like normal animals. They all still run on cartoon logic, but the cartoons still seemed like they were trying to make a distinction between the two, with talking animals standing on two feet and wearing clothes, while the ones that are suppose to be more like normal animals don’t talk, and do more animalistic things than human things. Does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t. XD;

I suppose one way to look at it is like the logic with Narnia’s animals. The ones that talk are treated with much more care and respect, while the ones that don’t talk are okay to hunt and eat.

I dunno. Again, my suspension of disbelief was never really broken with this topic. XD;

TalesFromYourServer: We ARE the party

So, i just remembered this story from last wednesday (i think). i work at a pub that has a main dining area, and then 2 bigger side rooms that have pool tables, and a few random other games, plus normal dining tables. my coworker M and i came in at 3:45 and were the only two servers working until 5:30. there was a private event scheduled that night, that had the entire room reserved. it’s not unusual for us to have events, but people don’t USUALLY reserve the whole room so it can kind of mess up the flow. there’s a sign in the doorway that says “private event, room closed”. M will be working it, but it doesn’t start until 6 so she’s got nothing to do till then. she’s only working the party so i’ve got the main dining room and the other side room all to myself. i hate when the managers do that to me, but whatever. i get a steady flow of customers and am doing fine. i have to admit, i’m not the best server. i can’t handle big groups of people. i’ll do it if i have to, but the managers know i don’t like it and they’re very helpful and nice. that being said, OF COURSE a large group of people walk in. i was on my way to tell the manager something so M greeted them and told them it was open seating. i’m nervous because i reaaaalllllyyy don’t want to do this, but nobody else can take them. i’m standing off to the side as they approach the party room, with the sign BLOCKING THE DOORWAY, and i hear one guy say “well, she said it was open seating” and i told him “i’m sorry sir, that room really is reserved for a party”. the guy just kinda chuckles and says “we ARE the party” in kind of a douchebag way. at this point, i thought they were the people hosting the event and i was just relieved i wasn’t going to have to take them, since it was supposed to be a group of 17-18 people. M goes into the room and starts talking to them, all is well. i can breathe again.

then, they start gathering their jackets and come back into the main room looking for somewhere to sit. i’m so confused and ask M what’s going on, she tells me they aren’t the party. just another random group of entitled assholes. thankfully another server came in right before they sat down and she wanted them, but the fact that they had TWO servers tell them “that room is reserved for a party” and they think they’re SO special and that they ARE the party, kind of just pisses me off. if you didn’t schedule an event here, the room isn’t yours. hell, i even stopped them and REMINDED them that the room was for a private event. the rest of the night went fine, but that rubbed me so wrong

By: imcheykthanks

anonymous asked:

how do spanish people feel about spanish speakers with different accents? i'm american and i'm going to be living in spain for a bit but i'm worried about my accent. i was taught by south americans and i listen to south american spanish music but i also watch a lot of films made in spain (mainly with actors from madrid) so i feel like it's kind of a mixture of the two. i just don't want to be made fun of because of my accent.

people won’t make fun of you, at all! we find it quite cute when foreigners speak Spanish, and we get really excited and try to teach you (even if you speak it already). also, if people realize that you have a mixed accent we’ll find it even cuter. some people might make a joke, but not in a mean way. you’ll realize that we make fun of people we care about.

so don’t worry, people won’t make fun of you. when you tell them that you’re american they will probably ask you about trump and that’s it.

enjoy your stay!

ps: what might happen is that you might use a word that is not used in Spain and people might ask you what it means so that they get what you’re trying to say.

anonymous asked:

hey could you tell me your favorite accounts that write about harry?? thank you!!

Oh gosh. I don’t really read that much on here. I’m such trash. But that’s my goal is to start reading on here, especially because I follow so many amazing and kind writers and they kindly follow me back. So I’m just gonna tag people I know write. 😂

@stylessemantics

@kasiwrites

@permanentcross

@stylesunchained

@trulymadlysydney

@jawllines

@oh-styles

@johnlennon-harrystyles

@harrysbunshun

@cuddlemusclestyles

@secret-rendezvous1d

@wdmsusie

@two-swallows-above-a-butterfly

@canistay-haz

ANYONE CAN FEEL FREE TO ADD ON. 

mikisarts  asked:

Jesus Christ, I hope you guys turn out okay. I understand avoiding it to kind of cool off, but.. its like, do the people who do this have any idea what kind of strain that puts on a friendship/relationship of any kind? Anyway, I'm so sorry you and your friends are going through that right now. What kind of fucked up person... I know this won't settle in like, a day or two, but I hope it clears up quick. You and your circle deserve none of this.

yeah i hope they back off, my friends rly don’t deserve this shit

run it up

april jily challenge!!

partner: @liiilyevans

prompt: university au + “our mutual friend dared the two of us to chug a whole pint of beer and I’m not going to let you beat me”

       The party was the kind where you could barely hear yourself think, the kind not made up of people but of heat and lights and deafening noise. The boys were there because they were always there, because through mysterious means they’d managed to convince the world that four nerds with too many secrets were somehow cool. People cheered when they came in the door, welcoming them to an alternate reality drenched in purple strobe lights, and James let the deafening music into his skull and between his thoughts.

        These parties never changed agendas, just dates and locations. It was uni, competitive uni, and so everyone was having fun by commiserating over assignments and grades and new adult despair. He could know the conversations without actually hearing them, without participating, because there were only so many things that drunk college students actually talked about. It was the reason that they always left early, that they rarely did anything without one another. James didn’t need to look to know where they were (Peter: back porch, Remus: kitchen counter, Sirius: pouring drinks). Instinct dragged his gaze to the bookshelves, looking for the fiery hair, the dead giveaway that she was there.

        And there was Lily, alone–and then not alone, standing next to her former best friend (no longer, not after what he called her in the courtyard on the day the lines were redrawn). And James hated him, had always hated him, because there’d always been that potential for cruelty and then it’d happened. He’d been there in the courtyard, been there for the prank (immature, but funny) and for Snape’s words (unforgivable) and for Lily’s reaction (like she’d taken a bullet). So without thinking James was across the room, he was between them, he was pushing Severus away from her, he was–

        He was being held back by Sirius, watching Snape disappear into the crowd, looking at the blood on his knuckles with a curious indifference. He was shaking, or maybe the house was, and Lily was behind him with her eyes pressed shut and fists clenched. Sirius and Lily shared a Look, the Look of two people set adrift from their families, of a girl forced into a box and a boy who came from a long line of box builders. 

        “Who wants a drink,” Sirius deadpanned, lips twitching.

        And that was how James and Lily ended up in the kitchen, facing one another with Sirius shoving pints into each of their hands. “Last one finished loses,” Sirius said, danger in his eyes and a grin on his face. If there was one similarity between the two of them, it was the need to never let a competition slide by unanswered. And so they were drinking. James drinks to win, a formidable motivation. But Lily drinks her hatred of Snape, her loss of a friend, her betrayal and anger and longing. She leaves him in the dust. James will tell you that he barely remembers that night, that nobody could be sure who really won, but if you ask Sirius Black he’ll tell you that tiny Lily Evans absolutely demolished James Potter, and that Potter’s a punk ass bitch besides.

        Then again, Marlene McKinnon swears that she saw Sirius in the alley behind the party right as the drinking game was ending, beating the shit out of Severus Snape. So who can really say?