#periodic table regions

[todays-xkcd]

Cesium-133, let it be. Cesium-134, let it be even more.

Periodic Table Regions [Explained]

Transcript

[A periodic table with regions labeled.]

[Hydrogen:] Slightly fancy protons [Lithium and Beryllium:] Weird dirt [Group 1 & 2 metals, Periods 3-4:] Regular dirt [Group 1 & 2 metals, Periods 5-7:] Ends in a number, let it slumber ends in a letter, not much better [Left side of the transition metals group:] Boring alloy metals Probably critical to the spark plug industry or something (but one of them is radioactive so stay on your toes) [Most of the top row of the transition metals + aluminum:] Regular metals [Below the rightmost "regular metals" - the "ordinary metals" and some transition metals:] Weird metals [The platinum group:] $$$$ [Boron:] Boron (fool's carbon) [Carbon, Nitrogen, Oxygen, and Phosphorus:] You are here [The Halogens:] Safety goggles required [Noble Gases:] Lawful neutral [Iodine and Radon:] Very specific health problems [Ordinary metals and metalloids - Arsenic, Antimony, Tellurium, Thallium, Lead, Bismuth, Polonium] Murder weapons [Astatine and Period 7 from Rutherfordium onwards:] Don't bother learning their names - they're not staying long [Lanthanides and Actinides:] Whoever figures out a better way to fit these up there gets the next Nobel Prize

#xkcd #xkcd 2913 #periodic table regions #webcomics #chemistry #periodic table

[maraudersmyloves]

｡☆ : . Garden Party . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

•̩̩*˚James Potter's birthday party ── 750 Follower event

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YOU'VE BEEN OFFERED A BOUQUET!!!

as thanks for getting me to almost 750 Followers, you have been offered a bouquet of flowers!! All you need to do is select a type of flower, the main color, a filler flower and a type of greenery!! Requests end on the seventh of April and first requests will be written first please read everything before requesting!!!

── request rules, masterlist

type of flower/ character

⊹˚₊˚꒰🌹・꒱ THORNLESS ROSES ; James Potter (the birthday boy) Their usage began not just as a decorative touch to one’s home, but they were also used for medicinal purposes and to make perfumes, and their petals were even used as confetti for festive occasions such as James' birthday.

⊹˚₊˚꒰🌻・꒱ SUNFLOWER ; Remus Lupin They generally symbolize adoration, loyalty, and longevity in the language of flowers. Native Americans view sunflowers as a symbol of harvest and bounty since the flower provides seeds and pigments, in addition to being visually beautiful.

⊹˚₊˚꒰🏵️・꒱ HYDRANGEA ; Sirius Black You know summer is here when big, showy hydrangea bushes begin gracing gardens across the country. Some hydrangea flowers can turn a pretty pink or blue depending on the acidity or alkalinity of the soil, while others will remain white.

⊹˚₊˚꒰🌼・꒱ DAISY ; Peter Pettigrew Daisies are a very popular flower that can be found on every continent other than Antarctica. They belong to one of the largest known plant families and symbolize innocence, a connotation that comes from the Victorian era.

⊹˚₊˚꒰🌷・꒱ TULIP ; Luke Castellan There are over 150 species and 3,000 varieties of tulips, which are part of the lily family. At one point, tulips were more valuable than gold in Holland during a period called “Tulip Mania,” and their popularity has only spread with time.

⊹˚₊˚꒰🌸・꒱ DAHLIA ; Mattheo Riddle These attractive blooms come in a wide range of colors and can be easily incorporated into any existing or new garden. They also flower extremely long, first blooming midsummer and lasting through the first frost.

⊹˚₊˚꒰🌸・꒱ BEGONIA ; Lorenzo Berkshire With over 1,800 species native to tropical and subtropical regions around the world, begonias are one of the easiest-to-grow and best-loved plants we have in our gardens and homes.

type of greenery/ prompt

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱LEATHER FERN ; "Can you hug me?" The way the stem branches out creates a triangular shape and is great for adding body to floral decor. It can stand alone in a vase as a centerpiece or add a tropical flair to a floral arrangement.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱MYRTLE ; Looking at each other, knowing it will never be the same Myrtle is one of the most popular types of greenery because of the variety of ways that it can be used. It has long stems that are lined with glossy leaves. The thick foliage that this creates looks best in floral centerpieces.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱DUSTY MILLER ; "Can we have a date night tonight?" Because of its unique frosted foliage, the dusty miller has a wintry vibe. It is often used in winter weddings or in fall tablescapes.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱LEMON LEAF ; "Can you wash my hair for me?" The lemon leaf has round, thick leaves that resemble the shape of lemons. Like the leather fern, it has a long-lasting vase life. Its shiny leaves work well with all flower types and are most fitting in vases as table centerpieces.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱IVY ; Whether it was a mistake or not, he couldn't seem to find the strength to care Ivy is perfect for accessorizing and can be added to anything from floral headdresses to table centerpieces. The leaves cascade down its branches, making it ideal for wrapping around wreaths and adding flow to floral baskets.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱SILVER DOLLAR EUCALYPTUS ; "Can I borrow your hat, please?" The silver dollar eucalyptus has one to two-inch circular leaves that resemble silver dollars. Its thin, bendable branches mirror that of the ivy, making it ideal for decorative wreaths and displays.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱HONEY BRACELET ; "You promised me!!" The honey bracelet has long stems that are decorated with soft, thin leaves. Its thin stem is easily molded into any shape and can be used for just about anything.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱GREVILLEA ; Realizing some things they know about each other haven’t changed and feeling comforted by that The grevillea is a unique type of decorative greenery with red stems that branch out into multiple green leaves. The branches vary in their length causing them to add depth to floral decor.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱TREE FERN ; your own prompt idea The epithet name for the tree fern is virgatus, which means twiggy. Unlike its namesake, the tree fern has thin, wispy branches and leaves that are often used in corsages and boutonnieres.

✦˚₊ ‧ ꒰🌿・꒱OLIVE BRANCH ; song prompt Olive branch greenery adds a sage hue and a wild, windswept look. Incorporate it into your bridal bouquets, boutonnieres, bridesmaid bouquets and centerpieces.

filler flower/ character dynamic

๑❞・꒰💐・꒱ STATICE ; golden retriever x black cat The statice flower, also known as the sea lavender, is a beautiful purple flower that grows even smaller blooms than the stock.

๑❞・꒰💐・꒱ SNAP DRAGONS ; somehow gets good grades and has no idea the other hates them x studies incredibly hard and hates the other for having it easy The snapdragon is arguably one of the most unique flowers. Its bizarre name represents the face of the flower that opens and closes like the mouth of a dragon.

๑❞・꒰💐・꒱ STOCK FLOWERS ; celebrity x secret lover Stock flowers bloom from spring to fall and come in a multitude of colors ranging from soft white to bright purple. They develop small blooms that are perfect for adding a pop of color to any bouquet.

๑❞・꒰💐・꒱ POMS ; always gets hurt x personal nurse Poms are identified as spray flowers, which means they have more than one flower head on each stem. This makes them easy to include in any arrangement to enhance the look.

๑❞・꒰💐・꒱ DELPHINIUM ; insecure but beautiful x YOU'RE LITERALLY SO GPRGEOUS AND PRETTY!!! Delphinium gets its name from the Greek word “delphis,” which means dolphin. This refers to their beautiful purple and blue hues and closed flower buds that are shaped similar to the nose of a dolphin.

๑❞・꒰💐・꒱ GYP ; your own dynamic idea Gyps are also known as baby’s breath and are members of the carnation family. They are cute, tiny flowers that look finest when grouped in bunches.

main color/vibe

๑❞・꒰👒・꒱ YELLOW ; Platonic The color yellow is primarily associated with spreading happiness and joy; however, it is also the ideal color for symbolizing friendship. With their bright hue and cheery personality

๑❞・꒰👒・꒱ PINK ; Fluff Similar to red flowers, pink flowers have also grown to be a symbol of love, though they can also mean happiness, gentleness, and femininity 

๑❞・꒰👒・꒱ WHITE ; Angst White is universally recognised to represent mourning as it symbolises peace, purity and love.

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╰┈➤ love, me!

#GARDEN PARTY . :☆｡ﾟ. #headcanon #fluff #writing #marauders #fanfic #marauders era #harry potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter au #james potter headcanon #750 followers event #james potter smut #james potter fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #peter pettigrew x reader #peter pettigrew #sirius black x reader #sirius black #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x you #mattheo x y/n #lorenzo berkshire

[harrygoeswest]

Harry Styles is your sworn enemy. You've decided to take a holiday in the Scottish Highlands, and so has he. And there's only one bed…

~~~

A/N: Welcome to Part 2! This story has been with me for a few months now, so it's a bit weird to be done, but the good stuff is in here! I hope you all enjoy the conclusion, and as always, thank you for reading!

Word Count: 15,007 Trigger Warnings: Swearing (obvs), embarrassing bedtime stories, groovy sexy times

Part 1

~~~

Something woke you earlier than usual. A heavy weight placed somewhere in the region of the most sacred part of one’s body. Not right there, but close enough. 

You accidentally wriggled, and inhaled sharply when it got closer.

Your eyes flew open and you lifted your head. Harry had slung his arm over your midsection. Unconsciously. He was lying on his back, head turned away from you but his arm stretched across the lower half of your sternum and rested against your hip bone. If you tried to peel him off you he might wake. 

You were so warm, and Harry’s arm so close to your middle region was absolutely not helping. You could feel your sex gearing up, anticipating something that was absolutely not going to happen. Traitorous genitals.

It was still raining, you could hear it bashing against the sides and roof of the cabin. For days it had been so loud inside. You wished for peace. Silence. Calm.

Knowing you couldn’t stay in bed with Harry touching you like that while dying a death in a fiery inferno, you made a move. Ever so slowly, you inched towards the edge of the bed until you could get your foot on the floor, and then expertly twisted your body so that his arm landed on the mattress with barely a disruption.

When you were satisfied he was still completely zonked, you slipped into the bathroom and ran a cold shower. You stood underneath the stream and dropped your forehead against the wall.

This was getting ridiculous. Complicated. Scary. Over the course of the week you and Harry had somehow gone from detested enemies to domestic companions. You hadn’t argued in a week. You took road trips together for games and snacks. And to make matters worse, your body was starting to react to him in a way it hadn’t since before you knew him. Yesterday you found his profile attractive and now your body gravitated towards his touch like it was trying to correct some kind of chemical imbalance.

Four more nights you reminded yourself. You can survive four more nights.

You stood under cold water for ten minutes and then went through the motions of washing your hair and scrubbing your body. You made sure you dressed again before you left the bathroom.

Harry, it turned out, had not offered such a courtesy. He was peering at something on his phone, standing over the table with a clean T-shirt in his hands, apparently midway through changing.

Your body went up in flames all over again at the sight of him. It wasn’t like the night you arrived where he was damp and glistening from-

No. You needed to calm the fuck down. Thoughts of Harry in the shower were not appropriate and would not be tolerated. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

“Shower free?” He asked, glancing up at you.

For shitting fuck’s sake.

“No one else is in there.”

His forehead crinkled at your reply. “Good to know… I’d be concerned if there was.”

You didn’t know how to come back to that, so you made for your suitcase in a show of needing something out of it, and Harry took that as his time to get in the bathroom. Once you heard the shower running again you let out a long breath.

Harry hadn’t made any coffee, so for once, since you were the first one up, you prepared yours and his. This exchange malarkey - wanting to be as generous to him as he had started being to you - was another tally on the metaphorical chart. You were in danger of doing something really stupid.

All day you kept to a safe distance. It didn’t help that he decided it was acceptable to walk around the cabin in shirtless periods, so you made sure to avoid eye contact with his chest and keep a straight face. You made breakfast, you made your own lunches, and he made dinner. You finished your jigsaw puzzle with neer a brush of fingertips, and you spent the rest of the day reading. He did the same.

This was safe. Comfortable. Neutral ground.

When you decided to call it a night you lay on your side facing away from him and waited for the inevitable to pull you under. Harry fidgeted beside you more than he usually did and it was the only thing keeping you awake. You wanted to snap at him as equally as you wanted to keep your mouth shut. He’d never fidgeted before, he slept like the dead once he was tucked in. A thing you envied.

He settled eventually, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep yet. It was like you could hear his brain whirring.

Giving in, you peeled an eye open and turned over your shoulder. “Do you need a nightcap or something?”

He glanced at you with a weak smile. “Sorry.”

“If it helps, when I’m struggling to sleep I come up with scenarios in my head that would never happen until my own ridiculousness is too much for my brain.”

It was dark in the room, but you were sure you saw a smile tease on his mouth. “Like what?”

Here goes nothing. This was the exact opposite of what you’d been trying to achieve today, but you’d opened yourself up now like a surgeon operating on your vital organs. Might as well see it through.

You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling. “Anything. One time Henry Cavill was a firefighter and rescued me from a burning building. Another time he was my soulmate and fell in love with me at first sight. Another time he was my neighbour and I found out my cat had been flirting with him.”

Harry’s belly laugh filled the quiet room. “Do they always involve Henry Cavill?”

“90% of the time, yes. Sometimes I treat myself and think about that bass player from The 1975.”

“I see… so tall men, then?”

“Broad.” You amend. “It’s all in the shoulders.”

“Interesting.”

“Maybe you could try thinking about doing the splits for that yoga woman again.”

“No.”

You shot a questioning look at him through the darkness, but he likely didn’t catch it given his silence.

He turned his head towards you, expression calm. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Oh boy. “If you want to.”

Harry rolled onto his side to face you, one hand shoved under his pillow. Feeling like you had no other choice, you did the same and gave him your face.

He licked his lips. You’d seen him do it before in interviews before he talked about something exposing. Not that you’d watched many of his interviews. Just the ones Holly had you sit through. So, all of them. “I’ve really enjoyed this week.”

Something bloomed inside you - right in the middle of your stomach, warm and tingly - and spread right through you to the tips of your fingers and toes. You felt it on your cheeks and the tips of your ears, too.

“It’s not been completely horrible,” You admitted, voice suddenly a little hoarse.

“I have a theory.”

“What’s that?”

He hesitated. “I might be wrong, but I think Holly and your brother did it on purpose.”

You gave a slow nod. “I’d be lying if I hadn’t thought the same when I got here. I’m sure, if we are onto them, Holly was the main culprit.”

“Oh, yeah.” He said with absolute certainty. “Your brother probably tried to ward her off the idea.”

“Also rather convenient that they were visiting for a family birthday the first weekend we were here.”

“Very convenient.”

You lay there for a moment, offering the smallest little grins to one another while keeping the other’s gaze. Your eyes had adjusted to the darkness in the room, and you could just make out his profile. His eyes were heavy but he was still with you. You had the strongest urge to reach out and stroke his face, but you didn’t.

“Will you tell me a secret?”

An eye for an eye.

You took a deep breath and let your mind take a dive. You would give him something. He’d been honest with you. Now it was your turn. “Before I met you, sometimes my bedtime scenarios involved Niall.”

He reared back, face a beautifully offended sight. “Excuse me?”

Howling laughter ripped out of you and you had to bury your face into your pillow to stop from waking any wild animals in the near vicinity. 

“I can’t believe you just said that.” He said against your hysterics.

“I was joking.” You wheezed, and patted his shoulder. His broad, smooth, warm shoulder. “I didn’t, I swear.”

“Who were they about, then?”

You lifted a brow. As if he had to ask… “Seriously?”

“I wanna hear you say it.” He patted the mattress between you - not that there was much of it -, an invitation.

You sighed, but you were smiling, still giddy off the back of your joke. “You, Harry.”

“Can you say it in a full sentence? I might make it my ringtone.”

You shoved his shoulder again. At this point it just seemed you were looking for an excuse to touch it. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“A whisper is fine.”

“Fuck off.” You scoffed.

He moved an inch closer to you. “Please?”

You glared at him, but were painfully aware of the bitten smile on his face and the closeness of him. “Before I met you, some of my bedtime scenarios involved you.”

He exhaled with such depth and length you thought he might’ve taken his last breath. “What did they involve?”

“Absolutely not, we’re not going there.”

“Oh, come on. Please? Just one. I won’t hold it against you.”

“You and I both know that’s utter bollocks and you will laud it over me for the rest of my life.”

“Surprised you think I’ll be around for the rest of your life.”

“Unless Holly bins you off or you sack my brother, I am aware that it is likely you’ll always just be around. And both likelihoods seem very slim.”

“At least we can tolerate each other now.”

You gasped. “You don’t think I’m intolerable anymore?”

“You’ve grown on me.”

That pleased you more than you were willing to admit. After a beat of silence and another dive into your brain, you came up with one. “There was one I remember. We were friends and you’d come and visit me on your off time without telling me. I always imagined you just walking in the door and making yourself comfortable in my house. And you’d live with me for a few weeks until you had to go again.”

“A few weeks? You crammed a few weeks worth of storyline into one night?”

“Sometimes I had two or three part fantasies.” You shrugged.

“Interesting… is that all that happened? I turned into a vegetable on your sofa until I had to leave again?”

That made you laugh, but you quickly shook your head. “No. I’ve only ever had one bed.”

“So we’d have to share?”

“You don’t seem like the type of man to comfortably spend the night on the floor. And you definitely wouldn’t fit on my sofa.”

“I’ve never seen your house so I wouldn’t know, but I can tell you’ve really thought about this.”

“They say it’s better to write about what you know.”

“Write?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just a turn of phrase, Harry. I’m not writing this shit down.” At least, not recently…

“Damn. Maybe I would’ve liked to see it.”

“Funny.”

He grinned. “Glad you think so.”

You shoved him again and closed your eyes. “Go to sleep, Harry. Fantasise about your dream date at one of your shows or something.”

“Was that one of yours?”

Yes. “No.”

His chuckle floated around the room. “Goodnight,”

“Night.”

~

Your face was smushed against something hard when you woke up. It was warm, too, like the inside of an oven after being turned off. Your body worked before your brain did, and your hand decided to feel around for what it could possibly be. It almost felt like a lucid dream. Maybe you weren’t awake yet. Maybe, you were still asleep.

You could’ve just opened your eyes, but they didn’t seem to want to yet. Glued together after a deep and dreamless sleep. You palmed your way over the heated slab you were pressed against without really thinking about it.

Until it produced a low rumble, and shifted a little under you. Then you felt something move against your back. A hand. Underneath your pyjama vest against your side.

Your eyes finally flew open to be met with a tattooed swallow on a pectoral.

“I always knew you secretly liked me.” He groused, voice broken and lacking. And oh so very deep.

“Why aren’t you wearing a T-shirt?” You blurted, unable to move.

“It got really hot last night. You were dead to the world again. Until I lay back down.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughed, a quiet and gruff little sound. “You cuddled me. Not the other way around.”

“And you just let me?”

“Sure. It’s better than trying not to fall out of bed every night.”

You sucked in a breath and tried not to overthink it. “Right.”

“It’s okay, you know. I don’t mind.”

“What if I mind?”

“Do you?”

Did you? You’d spent all of yesterday in your head about how things had changed between you, and his unavoidable attractiveness. Now your subconscious mind and/or body were willingly worming their way into a nighttime cuddle with him.

Christ alive, was there no hope?

“I don’t know.”

He squeezed your hip without a hint of hesitation. “I think I like this side of you.”

You dared to peer up at him. His eyes were droopy from sleep but his irises still glistened like seaglass. His scruff was getting fuller and that urge to stroke it returned. Your belly did a little flip-flop. And then he shifted slightly and you realised that your legs were intertwined, too. Dangerous feelings bloomed between your legs.

“What side is that?” You asked in a breathy voice.

He smirked. He knew what was going on in your head even if he was too polite to say it. “The one where I confuse you without behaving like a prick.”

“It is incredibly inconvenient for me.”

“Does it happen a lot?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I might be shooting myself in the foot here, but I think since you’re not making any attempt to move you can’t mind it that much.”

You made a wordless noise. “I’m in shock.”

“Do you want me to move?”

For the sake of your sanity, it was probably a smart idea. Still, that absolutely didn’t mean you wanted to. And you didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to admit that to him, though.

“You won’t offend me if you say no.” He hummed. He was still around you now in a kind of tense way. He didn’t want to adjust until you said anything.

Christ, this side of Harry was not the one you wanted to get used to.

You bit your lip as if it had any impact over your blatant indecision.

He chuckled, “I’m gonna make this easy for you,” he started shifting, away from you, “I need the loo.”

You were almost certain he was trying to be polite. Again. It did give you the kick up the arse to take yourself out of his space, though.

You kept your gaze down as Harry hauled himself off the bed, determined not to see him in this manner - roughened and lazy.

“Sun’s back.”

“Is it?” You feigned more interest in a loose piece of thread on the bed sheet.

“If it’s warm do you want to go to the lake again?”

“Sounds good.”

It didn’t sound good. It sounded horrific. Only in the sense you’d be subjected to more half-naked Harry. Wet, half-naked Harry.

He finally disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you with your muddled thoughts. You realised in that moment that none of this would get any easier until you were out of the cabin and into your AirBnB. You’d crawl there if you had to.

As you had with every visit down to the lake, you packed a tote with towels, drinks, snacks and enough entertainment to keep you occupied for the day.

You felt the heat the second you opened the cabin door. It was like that first step off a plane after landing in a hot country. 

You started walking while Harry locked up, head tipped towards the sun above you. It was a dry heat today. Dangerous in one way but most definitely your favourite kind. It didn’t feel suffocating like humidity did.

“Definitely ice cream and swimming weather today.” Harry commented as he caught up with you. 

“I love it when it’s like this.” You admitted. The sunny heat made your skin prickle.

“I can tell. You already seem to be in a better mood than yesterday.”

“I’m so glad we don’t have to spend another day indoors. I think I’d have lost my marbles.”

“Sure you’re not just pleased you don’t have to spend so much time in my general vicinity?” He was teasing, for the most part.

“Not even. I’m just not an indoor person.”

“If you say so.” He gave your hip a little poke.

You also caught the way he tried to tangle his fingers in the fabric of your pool dress, whether unconsciously or not, you weren’t sure. “If that were the case, I’d tell you.”

“God damn, I think you’re right.”

Once you made it to the lake you set yourselves up in the sun but close to some shade in case the heat became too much.

“You gonna come for a swim before you ignore me for a book the rest of the day?” Harry teased. “You haven’t gone in once since you got here.”

“Maybe, I don’t know.” You muttered, once again averting your gaze while he stripped out of his t-shirt.

“Is this where you tell me you can’t swim?”

You rolled your eyes and ignored his question. “It doesn’t feel very responsible abandoning our things at the same time.”

“They’ll be fine - we’ve got eyes on them.”

“What if we both get distracted and all our food gets nicked?”

“I like that you’re more concerned with the food being stolen than your purse or your phone.”

“Gluten free snacks are expensive.” You argued.

“Come on. Just for a bit? Five minutes and then we’ll come back and do some baking.”

You glanced up at him. You knew you’d never hear the end of it if you didn’t. How much ammunition had you already given him if after this holiday things went back to normal? Teenage bedtime stories? Throwing up in the bushes while on your hands and knees? Harassing paparazzi? That last one sounded ludicrous.

“Five minutes, and then I’m getting out to nurse my food.”

“Deal.” He stuck his hand out, but when you took it he dragged you to your feet rather than shook it. 

“Let me just hide all this in the shade.” You said in a quiet voice, still trying to avoid looking at him for long periods of time. 

“Fine. I’ll meet you down there.”

“Okay.”

You busied yourself putting your tote bag in the shadier part of your set up. It should’ve been a five second task but you managed to stretch it out to a half minute. 

When you looked over your shoulder for Harry, he hadn’t got very far. Nor had he gotten any less attractive. In fact, he’d gotten more so. He was like Adonis. All muscles and tanned arms. Those tattoos didn’t help, either. Lord, what a specimen.

“Fuck sake.” You hissed, turning away from him again.

Taking a deep breath, you peeled your pool dress off and left it with your other belongings. Then you took more time just to mentally prepare yourself, smoothing your hands down your body.

“If you were doing this three weeks ago, you wouldn’t be this nervous.” You chided yourself. “Get a grip, woman. He’s just a man. It’s just Harry.”

But he’d never been just Harry, had he?

Fuck off.

You spun around and started marching towards the water’s edge. Harry had only just begun wading through the gentle tide. The volume of rainfall had affected the lake’s size by some margin. The beach was half the depth it had been five days ago yet the heat had attracted more people, leaving less space. It was busy.

“How cold is it?” You demanded once you were within earshot of him.

He turned over his shoulder to answer you, but his response seemed to get caught in his throat. His eyes raked down your body and then back up, a shameless and blatant go at checking you out. You were already hot from the sun, but this was much, much worse.

“It’s not bad.” He managed, gaze lingering on your chest.

Realisation smacked you in the face like a hard, rough paddle. The attraction wasn’t one-sided.

Trying to ignore Harry’s staring, you dipped your toe in, wincing a little. “It’s not great, either.”

“If I push you in it’ll take the shock away faster.”

“So much as touch me, Styles, and you’ll be sleeping outside tonight.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, Jesus Christ.”

You waded in ahead of him until the water swallowed your hips, ultimately proud of yourself. Open-water was not your favourite by any stretch. You turned around with a big grin, only to be met with a wave of water splashing over your entire front.

Shock and bitter cold had your body tensing, and a loud gasp fell out of your mouth. 

Harry’s roaring laughter ripped through the air, back arched and head tipped to the sky. “Oh, that was too good.”

“You,” you took a step toward him, “absolute,” and spread your arm wide, “dick.”

You dragged the length of your arm across the surface of the water and watched as an equivalent wave crashed over him. He staggered a little, but caught himself before he toppled over. A triumph on your part. Now you were even; he was just as wet as you were.

“You’re in trouble.” He warned when his gaze rejoined yours. He started making his way to you, and so you began to retreat.

“You started it.” You put your hands out, heart hammering in your ears.

“And I’m gonna finish it, too.” He lurched towards you.

Squealing, you hurled yourself away from him, only narrowly avoiding being caught. You splashed him again which he did not seem to appreciate, and laughed maniacally with each tread away from him.

“Come here!” He yelled.

“No!”

He chased you further into the water and then back out again towards the shoreline. You were more agile than you gave yourself credit for because you always just managed to be just out of his reach, three steps ahead, and laughing away the whole time.

“You’re a menace, woman!” He bellowed, but he sounded almost breathless.

“You’re only just realising?!” You cackled, narrowly dodging another attempt at grabbing you.

“I’ve known for a long time.” It almost sounded like a promise.

You circled around an innocent old woman a couple of times but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact she was just as entertained as you were.

“You’re supposed to be in peak physical condition, Styles.” You goaded, managing to float further away. “This is embarrassing.”

He gave an exasperated laugh. “I’m going easy on you.”

“Are you? ‘Cause to me it looks like you just can’t keep up.”

You waded further into the water with your back to him, far enough that you were covered up to your chest. When you turned around again, Harry had disappeared.

“What the-,”

“-Boo.” 

You screamed as an arm wrapped around your waist from behind, your heart attempting to flee out of your chest. That familiar boom of laughter filled the air again, and your back was brought flush against Harry’s hard chest. He leaned over and splashed more water over you while you attempted to wriggle free.

“You prick, that’s not fair!”

“I think you’ll find it is fair.” He rebutted. “There were no rules set before we started.”

“You didn’t even alert me to the game before you started it!”

“You turned it into a game by retaliating.”

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you get away with it! And that still doesn’t give you an excuse to scare the shit out of me!”

“Alright, that’s fair.” He conceded, and loosened his hold on you. Then he turned you around by the arms and kept you there. “I’m sorry for scaring the shit out of you.”

Then he did the unthinkable and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, smushing you in a hug against his chest. It wasn’t lost on you how similar it was to the way you woke up this morning, and the change in pace again was giving you some kind of mental whiplash.

To avoid keeling over, you linked your arms around his waist. An odd feeling settled over you. Harry’s body was an unfamiliar comfort; his affection was like gravity. All of a sudden you were grounded, centred. How hadn’t you noticed before that you’d just been floating around?

He pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head before he released you, but not entirely. Before you could really pull away, he took your face between his hands, encouraging you to meet his gaze. You gave him that much. Undivided, uncontested attention. You had given him that for a week now. There wasn’t much else to capture your attention.

His eyes were impossibly bright under the beating sun. Wordlessly, he smoothed each of his thumbs across your face, from the bridge of your nose and across your cheekbones to the hilt of your jaw.

Your lips parted with your next exhale and his attention dipped, drawn in by it.

Oh God. 

This was uncharted territory. Would he really do it? Would he kiss you? In public? In front of close to a hundred people. White noise filled your ears at the thought.

The sun was getting hotter as it grew closer to midday. Highest point in the sky. Most lethal temperature. Your back felt dry, scalded.

The ghost of Harry’s touch still lingered on your nose and cheeks. “Can you see the bag?”

He blinked a few times and then lifted his gaze to the beach behind you. “Yeah. It’s still there. Although someone has sat incredibly close to us since we left it.”

You turned around, but his touch didn’t fall away. His hands remained on your shoulders. He was right - someone had set themselves up irritatingly close to your things, and that put you on edge.

“Go on.” He patted your back, right in the middle. “I can tell you’re itching to go back.”

You glanced up at him. “You’re not coming?”

“I never said that.”

Satisfaction nestled in your very core.

Together you waded back through the water to the shoreline and up the beach to your things.

“I’ve never wanted a windbreaker so much in my life.” Harry muttered as you sat back down.

You answered with a smile, and began searching through your tote for suncream. Harry held his hand out, so you squeezed a blob onto his palm and then started on yourself.

“Want me to do your back?” He offered.

Shitting hell. You’d planned to just lie on your back for the rest of the day, or at the very least keep only your front turned to the sun if you were sitting up.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded. 

“Will you do mine after?”

“Sure.”

Harry took the bottle from you, and you turned in your place to offer him your back. You attempted to school your breathing when his hand met your bare skin and began turning circles against it. He was methodical and somewhat cautious in his approach, a complete contrast to his behaviour not fifteen minutes ago. But still, in this kind of proximity with him you felt this unusual comfort, even if it was intermingled with nerves. You did your absolute best not to panic when his hand dropped lower to the waistband of your bottoms.

You switched places after he gave you a gruff, “Done.” This was better, because at least he couldn’t see you now.

While you had the opportunity to, you marvelled at his back, gaze following the lines of strong muscle and tendon. Your hands did their own thing, circling the cream into his skin until it vanished.

You used the excuse of being thorough to make sure you could admire him for as long as possible without it being suspicious, but eventually you gave him a pat on the shoulder to announce you were done.

You settled into comfortable silence. You lay on your back and used your book as a shield from the sun. Harry lay on his front parallel to you with his face turned towards you.

When he didn’t close his eyes or speak to you, you couldn’t help but ask, “Have you not got some form of entertainment with you?”

“Of course I do. You.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not putting my book away to be your monkey.”

“Who said anything about that? Watching you like that is enough.”

You tried your damned hardest to ignore the butterflies in your tummy. “I can only imagine it to be immensely boring.”

“It’s not.” He insisted. “You could read to me if you feel bad, though.” 

“I don’t feel bad, and it would only slow me down.”

His laughter was a glorious, low rumble. “Then I will just watch.”

You sighed, but failed to find the energy to argue further.

Twenty minutes later, when being on your back became uncomfortable, you turned over. Before you settled down again you took the opportunity to look around. 

It was busier. Hardly an inch of space available on the stony beach.

“How bad is it?” Harry asked.

“It’s not great.”

He groaned.

“We can go back soon if you want. There might be some dry ground outside the cabin.”

“Might have to.” He lifted his head and peered over his shoulder. “Christ.”

You gave a helpless squeeze to his shoulder, and your body reacted as anyone’s would when he rested his cheek against it. More butterflies.

Oh boy.

“One more chapter and we’ll go.” You mumbled, voice uneven.

He nodded, and then he did something that took your breath away. He kissed the back of your hand. Just an innocent peck against your knuckle. It was such a certain and unabashed action you almost didn’t believe he’d done it, but the giveaway was the fact that you could still feel it after he pulled his lips away. And then, because you’d lost that last bit of self control, you stroked your hand across his scruff like it was nothing; the most natural thing in the world. It was coarse yet soft, completely contradicting itself.

Your brain betrayed you. Images of what the aftermath might look like if he ever found his way between your legs with a beard like that. Irritation on your inner thighs. Your excitement spread across the fine hairs. A shiny tip of his nose.

Stop.

You smoothed your hand against his scruff again. His eyes fluttered but they never closed. His gaze shifted to yours, and suddenly green was the only colour in the world. And seaglass was your favourite.

His gaze dropped to your mouth and your heart skipped two beats. Your faces had barely an inch of space between them. You could feel his sweet breath as it fanned across your face. He did that nervous lip-lick again, and melted butter replaced the cells that made up your body.

You wanted him to kiss you. Every other feeling you’d ever had towards him vanished like a ship in the Bermuda Triangle. You’d thought the evolution of your attraction towards him had been all on you. That maybe earlier when you’d presented yourself on the shoreline in your swimsuit that he was just doing as all other men did - appreciating something without taking advantage. Look but don’t touch. He wouldn’t be looking at your mouth like that if he didn’t want you.

He seemed to be waging a war with himself over the thought of kissing you, and it made you itch. Made you want it more.

Fuck it.

You used the fact that you were already holding his face as a means of bringing him towards you, and then you closed the short distance and pressed your mouth to his. 

He didn’t react in any way towards you, and your mind fell into a horrendous tailspin. What were you doing? You were in public, and Harry wasn’t just some random beach-goer. He was a fucking celebrity. What if someone had seen you? What if someone was watching, and worse, cataloguing it?

Oh, shit. You’d fucked up.

But when you tried to retreat, he didn’t let you. He chased you back, capturing the side of your face with one hand. He moved his mouth over yours, finally leading, and the tension fell away from your body in heavy reems until you were pliant to him and his wants.

God his mouth was divine. Soft, full, gentle. A little sloppy, but you didn’t mind. It was what you wanted, what you needed. It didn’t cross boundaries or become indecent. It was just… just. Something that fulfilled its own purpose. And you revelled in it for as long as you had it, because you didn’t know if you could have it again once it ended.

Harry’s thumb caressed your cheek and even that made you feel giddy. He parted his mouth and his tongue traced along your lower lip. 

A whimper caught in your throat, and blood rushed to your cheeks, the back of your neck and the tips of your ears. You pulled away with an embarrassed laugh and buried your face against your arm.

He chuckled, dropping his lips to your shoulder. He stroked a hand over your bare back, and it made you shiver. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You huffed. “That was pathetic on my part.”

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

You peeked up at him, finding his gaze already on you. “What would you call it, then?”

He pursed his lips, and you wanted to kiss him all over again. “Kinda sexy.”

“Kinda?”

He leaned closer, using it as an excuse to kiss your shoulder. He lingered, “Won’t be able to stand up for a minute, let’s put it that way.”

A heavy desire settled in your very core, mouth salivating. The sudden need to have this man all over you was frankly startling.

“Maybe I won’t finish my chapter…” 

He gave a breathy laugh as he watched you dogear the corner of your current page. You slipped the book into your tote and rested your head on your arms, facing him. He was resting on his elbow with his cheek against his fist, and he looked every bit the Greek God. His other hand still stroked over your back.

“Ice cream for the way home?” He suggested.

Your nod was slow, purposeful. “Maybe I’ll switch it up and have what you have.”

His gaze fogged with what you could only assume was lust. “I can get on board with that.”

You rolled onto your back and sat up, then pulled your pool dress back over your body. Harry made it to his feet, towering over you.

“Meet me by the van?” He suggested.

“Yeah. I’ll pack up.”

With a nod, he was off. He’d left his t-shirt behind, deciding to make the most of the sun. Knowing that he was roaming around half-naked broke you out in a nervous sweat. There were plenty of other men around without their tops on, but it was different with Harry. His body was recognisable.

You noticed as you packed up that your hands were shaking. You were giving yourself a headache over your back and forth between awkward and spontaneous. Yes, you’d decided to go back to the cabin, but that was before you kissed him. And you were the one that flirted with him, not the other way around. He might’ve been turned on after kissing you but he took no part in initiating things. The fear of possible rejection somewhere later down the line prompted a panic.

No.

No panicking. 

This was Harry. 

Harry, who you would inevitably see again and again further down the line whether things progressed between you or not. You needed to think with your rational head, not the one that fantasised everything. You’d let things take their natural course. If nothing happened, nothing happened. End of story.

Besides, you were moving out of the cabin in a couple of days to the bungalow. It would make that whole shift easier if nothing happened.

With everything collected and packed away, you made your way over to Harry who was paying for your ice cream. He handed you a cone with a mint chocolate chip scoop on the top.

“What’s that?” You asked after spotting the one he was holding.

He looked at his chocolate cone with a smirk. “We can all switch it up, you know.”

“Not the flavour, the cone.” There was an obvious difference between a normal cone and a gluten free one. Harry didn’t have a normal cone like he usually did.

He gave a passive shrug and started walking. “Maybe I’m getting attachments to your food substitutions.”

You snorted. “Seriously?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. You knew he was joking to some degree, but once again, your fantasising brain took over from your rational one. It told you he was being safe with you. If anything did happen again, like a repeat of the little kiss you’d just shared, he didn’t want to run the risk of you getting sick.

As suggestive as you’d been, the rational side struggled to believe they were his real motives. 

He walked ahead of you rather than beside you. It was terrible, actually, because it gave you the perfect view of his back, amongst other things. You’d lost all interest in your ice cream, too busy fawning over the way Harry ate his. It was near pornographic. You had to take a lick of ice cream to cool yourself down.

His tanned back shone under the sun, damp with sweat, and the little curls around his neck were beginning to drip with it, too, squeezing out from under his hat. And then there were his calves, which strained every time he took a step. It didn’t help that you were walking uphill, so his muscles were working overtime.

You took another languid lick from your cone. 

The cabin was in sight, but you had no interest in it. All your focus was on the man in front of you.

Harry turned around just as you were mid-lick, and your body felt limp at the sight of his chest, glistening with sweat between his pectorals. The only thing that distracted you was a cool drip making its way down your chest.

“Shit.” You hissed.

Harry was in your space in an instant. His ice cream was long gone, but that look in his eye had returned. “Making a mess?”

You nodded wordlessly. His gaze was so intense you fought to breathe properly, and it was focused on the wet line of ice cream currently making its way into your cleavage. 

“I’ll get it.” He said, voice pure gravel.

 His mouth lowered to your clavicle, tongue licking against your warm skin. You sucked in a breath, hypnotised when he moved lower down your chest towards your breasts. He took the smallest handful of your dress at the front and pulled it low enough for him to continue to where he wanted. 

The noise you made when he passed his tongue through the top of your cleavage was just as embarrassing as the one earlier, when you’d kissed on the beach. 

The soggy cone in your hand crushed between your tight grip, spilling between your fingertips and down your arm.

Harry placed strategic little pecks back up your front, oblivious to the little dilemma you were having. “Mint chocolate is still my favourite.” He said against your mouth.

“Is it?” You asked breathlessly. “There’s plenty of it.”

He gave you a perturbed look, and then did his eyes trail along your arm to the mess in your hand. You expected him to laugh, but he did no such thing. 

He growled. 

He wrapped an arm around your waist and brought your body flush against his. Then he took your elbow in his other hand and brought the mess closer. Because you couldn’t help yourself, you wiped some of it across his mouth and up his cheek.

“You didn’t.” His voice was so low and dangerous it had sparks lighting through random limbs.

“I did,” you whispered.

You reached up and began cleaning it off the same way he had you - with your mouth. You started on his cheek, taking your time to wipe it up as you moved along his scruff to his mouth. And when you did finally reach his mouth he was ravenous with you, the opposite of the kiss on the beach. He ate you up, tongue and all.

For a little while, you let him. He felt good on your mouth. He showed you just how much he wanted you with his tongue and the way he squeezed your body tightly to his. The need to melt into his hold and float away became your top priority.

He started towards your coated arm, but you didn’t want him eating out of your hand. Quite literally. You wanted his focus elsewhere.

You pushed him away, batting off the guilt that came from the offended look on his face. Then you made him watch as you trailed your sticky hand down your chin from your mouth, over columns of your throat to your chest. You smeared most of it off, including on your boobs.

Harry looked like he was about to combust.

“You okay?” You teased. You slipped around him, walking backwards now towards the hut.

He turned over his shoulder and followed. “Do I look okay to you?”

You knew that was his invitation to look at his crotch. You allowed your gaze to drop for just a second, taking in the outline of his erection.

Big was the first thing that came to mind.

“There are worse things to be than turned on.”

A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth. You cleaned your hand up since the majority of the mess you’d made was now making its way down your chest and between your tits. Harry watched you as if you were a brilliant movie on the silver screen. He couldn’t take his eyes off you even if he wanted to.

Your back hit one of the posts on the cabin porch, and Harry found his way back into your space. He slipped the tote bag off your shoulder and let it fall to the floor by your feet.

He took two fistfuls of your dress and tugged it. “I want this off.”

You were still cleaning your hand. You silently nodded around your fingers, and then raised both arms in the air. He shucked the dress up to your chest and then whipped it off, tossing it into one of the chairs posted outside the door.

His gaze raked up your body like a man starved. 

A couple of droplets of ice cream had fallen lower and were trailing down your abdomen towards the line of your bikini. Before they could make it, Harry leaned forward and collected them onto his tongue.

Your breathing hitched, and you took your fingers back into your mouth as you watched him sponge kisses and trail licks back up your front.

You took his cap off with your free hand and dropped it in the same chair as your dress. Then you pushed your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp as he went.

As he reached the underside of your breasts, he smoothed his hands up your thighs. 

A low moan came out of you in anticipation. This man was about to unravel you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. You’d never shied away from sex before, but this was something else. What you and Harry were doing felt different. Exciting.

Harry managed to split his attention between cleaning your chest and smoothing up your thighs. He gripped your waist with one hand, and the other slid between your legs. He started circling the pads of his fingers against your clit, over your bikini.

You’d been wet ever since your kiss on the beach and his hand was only making your desire that much heavier.

“God, Harry,” you groaned, and your back arched away from the post, “just like that.”

He breathed out against your breast, as if hearing your praise was the biggest compliment in the world.

He continued working you up between your thighs as his tongue laved over every inch of your front, wiping up the sticky mess you put there. He sucked your nipple over the fabric of your swimsuit.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect,” he groused, and worked deeper into your heat with his fingers.

“Take them out.” You begged.

He shook his head against your chest, roving upwards. “Not outside.”

This gentlemanly side of him was like a silent killer. He wasn’t up for exposing you in public even though you’d had no quarrel with it. You supposed he was more than well-versed with the repercussions of having your private life displayed for the world to see. It didn’t stop you from grinding on his hand, though.

He lapped up the cream on your chest and throat, until finally, finally his mouth joined yours again. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, bringing his body hard against yours. You continued to grind into his hand while rubbing your boobs against his chest. The friction you so craved was driving you wild.

“You’re unbelievable.” He groaned into your mouth.

“It’s not the first time you’ve told me that.”

He puffed a laugh through his perfect lips. “It’s still true. Except I’m saying it now as a dead man.”

You gasped at the feeling of one of his fingers trying to bury into your heat. “How so?”

“I’m at your mercy, baby.”

“Oh, God.” You whined, keeping his mouth firmly on yours. “I never thought I’d say this but I really want you to fuck me, Harry.”

“I will.” He insisted with a nip of your lips. “But I really want you to come on my hand first.”

“Fuck.” You whimpered.

You ground and ground against Harry’s fingers, focussing all of your attention on that one thing while his kisses plastered your mouth until your climax finally bubbled to the surface and exploded, straining your body in shivering tightness. You buried your face into his neck as you cried out, clinging onto him to help it subside.

He took his hand from between your legs and wrapped both arms around your waist, pulling you away from the column. When your legs weren’t complete jelly, you were already moving again, coaxing him inside.

A deep moan bubbled out of him when you reconnected your lips. He knew what you were doing and he was only too eager to join, walking you into the cabin. The door was kicked shut the second you were over the threshold.

Your hand slid down his front, fingertips tracing over the lines of his torso until you had a handful of clothed man. Harry was big. You knew that already from the brief encounter you’d had with it on arrival, but with your hands on that appendage now, you realised you might have your work cut out for you.

Harry grunted at your touch like a starved animal. It was such a deep, jarring noise it had shivers shooting all over your body, and straight back to your clit again. And you ate that noise right out of his mouth.

You tucked both hands into the waistband of his trunks and slid the garment down, falling to your knees with it. His back hit the door.

“What are you doing?”

You met his gaze, not a hint of hesitation on you. “I want you in my mouth.”

“Christ,” he hissed, “I don’t think I’ll last long if you do that.”

You smirked, gliding your hands up his thighs to wrap around his shaft. “That’s okay.”

“But I want to shag you.”

“I have every intention of doing that, too.”

“Might be hard if I finish in your mouth.”

You gave him a challenging raise of your brow. “You telling me you don’t have enough in you for two rounds? For a man who sings about sex as much as you do, that’s kinda disappointing.”

He knew you were goading him. He could tell by the look in your eye, that fiery glint that lived to wind him up. And it’d be a damn lie if he said he didn’t love it. Sparring with him over nothing was one thing, but to challenge his stamina? Entirely another.

He didn’t take your bait, settling with a tense jaw and a dark look in his eye. You took that as enough encouragement to continue.

You tucked your hands into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, avoiding getting poked in the eye when it sprang free. Taking it by the base with a gentle grip at first, you studied it with a calm exterior. Your interior, however, was rioting. In me it screamed.

Never one to deny yourself of anything you wanted, you stroked his shaft a couple of times and took him in your mouth without any further delay.

“Bloody hell,” Harry swayed a little at the suddenness of it all, only finding your shoulders to steady himself on.

You started working him, both hand and mouth moving up and down the length of him because he wasn’t going to fit in just your gob, big as it was. Your tongue licked around him too, preening his hot and veiny length. Sometimes it felt wrong to call a phallus beautiful, but his really was.

You gripped the back of his thigh as you bobbed and bobbed and bobbed. If there was such a thing as ‘perfectly hairy’, Harry was it. His leg hair felt incredible in an inexplicable way, and if you weren’t turned on enough already, it was really fucking doing it for you. It turned out, a lot about this man really did it for you.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry panted, stroking your hair as an excuse to just hold your head, “that’s good, darlin’.”

Words of praise hadn’t really been your thing until that exact moment. You worked harder around him, hand and lips moving in quicker succession. You wanted him to praise you more so you’d work even harder than that. Then maybe you’d get to watch him unravel while you tasted him on your tongue for the very first time.

“Not surprised a girl with a mouth like yours knows how to use it.”

It was a backhanded compliment if you’d ever heard one, but you were going with it. You quite enjoyed that he could still find a way to drag you a little while saying nice things. Lewd nice things, but nice all the same.

You pulled back and lifted his length up, closing your mouth around his balls to suck instead. He hissed, fisting the hair at the back of your head. The sharp pain that caused only made you want him more.

You met his gaze as you sucked away at each of his balls, and he was a fucking sight - strong yet vulnerable, beautiful yet roughened. Everything he exuded in that second was a contradiction to itself and the man became more of a conundrum to you than he ever had been. You needed to ground him again. Rearrange the version of him in your head so that the one that existed outside of it became clear.

You slid the hand holding his leg upward and behind to stroke over his ass cheek. Obviously it was smooth and perky and you felt a strange kind of envy because it wasn’t fair that men always had such spectacular rear-ends.

Then you stopped sucking on his bollocks and licked up his shaft like it was better than a freaking Calippo. Hell, it was better by a staggering degree. You prayed to any ethereal entity that would listen that this wouldn’t be the last time you’d get to suck away at Harry’s girthy man-meat.

You licked up the crease on his tip, taking the dribble of pre-come with you. It melted on your tongue, and a dirty groan spilled out of you and over his shaft as it sunk back into the heat of your mouth. 

You fought harder this time as you started bobbing around him. Cheeks hollowed and chin drowning in your own saliva. You took him as far as you could, into the tightness of your throat until he was the one choking. Then you rested back for a second to suck on his tip, before shoving him back down as far as he’d go.

“No, no, no,” Harry stressed, attempting to pull away.

But it was already too late, and a smug satisfaction washed over your entire being as he began to come. You gripped onto his legs to keep his cock inside your mouth. Again he only had your shoulders to keep him upright as his hips instinctively bucked in shallow movements with each wave of his release. He tasted unlike anything before. It had this addicting quality to it and part of you would be happy if he just never stopped coming.

But he did, eventually, and once he was out of your mouth you swallowed down his release and made a show of licking your lips afterward.

“Are you okay?” You asked once you could finally talk.

He looked spent already, but you weren’t going to let him give up that easily. His hair was all in his face, cheeks stained pink, and his skin was shiny in places that hadn’t been considered obscene until this very moment. Harry looked like he was about to film an advert for a new ‘fragrance for men’. Just like everyone else, whatever he was selling, you’d probably buy it.

“‘M bloody wonderful.” The way he spoke had a weightlessness to it, and you wanted to float away on it.

You rose to your feet, leaving a path of kisses up his torso as you went. Havoc wrecked up your insides as you did so. You’d had a piece of him already, but that damn body… enough to send the calmest of women to an institution.

Harry captured your mouth the second he could and absolutely ravaged you. He was all encompassing, like nothing else in the world mattered. Right then, it didn’t. Only his kisses and the hunger he gave off with them.

You found yourself with your back against the door, Harry’s body heavy against you. His weight caused your insides to light up all over again, your centre preparing for pleasure.

“Harry, I need you in me,” you spoke against his kisses, clawing at his skin to keep him closer, keep the fire in your body alive and burning.

“I need in you,” He agreed, his attack on your mouth not letting up.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m trying to remember what I did with the condoms I had in my suitcase.”

Inexplicably, you started giggling. It amused you, that this man who could seem so suave and smooth and charming could lose something like his condoms.

When your head tilted to the side, he took advantage of your exposed neck, delicately sucking his way down and back to your cleavage. He took you out of your clothes until you were completely bare, finally in matching states of undress.

“I’ve got some in my handbag,” you managed to say on a heavy pant.”

Harry growled, and the noise shot straight to your clit, “Don’t move.”

He yanked himself away from you and marched across the room to your bag, where it sat on the floor by the bed.

“Inside zip pocket,” you told him, teeth nibbling at your lower lip.

He found the strip and tore one off, then ripped it open and put it on without any form of hesitation. He took a brief second to study your nakedness, still standing with your back against the door, and then he was crowding you again, leaving you with barely room to breathe. Yet taking breath was the last thing you cared about.

“God, you’re pretty,” he sighed as he shoved his face into your neck. His lips lightly nipped and sucked away at your skin, while his hands roamed your naked body.

His dick was hard again, pressing against your stomach, and your sex was rioting with impatience. You combed your fingers through his hair, tugging every now and then on the soft curls until he shivered. He lifted your leg at the thigh and hooked it over his hip, and like he just couldn’t wait any longer, he thrust his length inside you at once. 

You choked on the breath you were intaking at the sheer fullness of him, and now it was your turn to bury your face in his neck. He smelled like sea water and sweat and it made a heady, lusty scent. 

He spoke your name like a prayer, “fuck. You feel… I don’t even know. Fucking marvellous.”

You gripped him tighter as he started thrusting, heavy and hard. “You’re so big, Harry.”

Your backside hit the door, and while it was a little painful and might well bruise, it actually made it all the better. You felt like an animal, matching his hip movements one by one. 

It felt like he was trying to prove something, and even though he really didn’t need to, you weren’t going to tell him that. You liked this side of him - this real maleness that you hadn’t really seen from him beside his occasional pigheadedness. And it was only occasional because he only showcased it with you. With everyone else he was a god damn peach. Maybe he’d be a peach with you now, too, with less of the bravado. But you’d like to see this side of him more, where he had nothing and yet everything to prove, and a driving desire to prove it.

He was starting to pound faster and faster, grunting and groaning. Sweat rolled down his back and it was oddly stimulating. You traced your fingertips down his spine and back up, then gripped his face and brought his mouth to yours for a mind-bending snog.

If his mouth was heaven, his dick was fucking ecstasy.

Everything about him worked together to provide the ultimate pleasure and you were centimetres from falling off the damn train.

“Harry, touch my clit.” You ordered.

He growled again and it was utterly delicious. He stroked his hand from your hip to your cunt and started stroking that sensitive nub in such a stark contrast to how he was fucking into you that you reached a new level of overwhelm.

“Fuck, Harry!” You squealed.

“You are,” pant, “insatiable.”

He dropped his mouth to the top of your breast and sucked - hand, cock and mouth all moving together in sync to bring you to climax.

Stilted, you groaned at the way your orgasm washed over you like a debilitating blaze. Harry’s body held you prisoner against the door, and you knew from his shudder that he was coming too. Hard, if his teeth against your shoulder blade was any indication.

“It’s not like this,” He said after a moment of quiet. 

You were boneless sandwiched between his hard front and the door. If he moved, you’d collapse. “What?”

He took your face in his hands and kissed you, slow and sweet, “It’s not like this. Ever. I feel different with you.”

A thick lump formed in your throat, and you forced it down with a swallow. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know what he meant. You knew exactly what he meant. You were no stranger to sex, but it hadn’t ever been like that before. Something about being with Harry lit you up on the inside like a firework display on bonfire night. But for some reason, you couldn’t put that into words for him. So you did the only thing you could and kissed him back.

You wound up in the shower together, going for another round before cleaning each other up. It was more delicate than the first time. You took your time, and then when you were both spent, you finally stepped out, clean and sated.

Harry wiped you down with the towel first, taking extra care to make sure you were completely dry. Watching him care for you that way did terrible things to your insides. Especially the vital organ in your ribcage. He’d gone from carnal to tender in a matter of seconds and that familiar feeling of whiplash latched onto you again.

You clung to the sink while he towelled himself down, watching his every move. Admiring him. There was no animosity left in you to harbour towards this man. It would be a waste to do so. You’d hold onto it for someone else, someone more worthy. For now, Harry had earned something else. Something sweeter.

He took your face between his hands when he was done, appreciating you. His thumbs stroked over your cheeks. You took a gentle hold of his wrists, keeping your eyes on his.

“Don’t go to the bungalow.”

You bit your lip at his request. Knowing what you knew now, you’d have never booked it if you had any slight inkling that this might’ve happened. And by ‘this’ you obviously meant sleeping with him. Up until 2 days ago the possibility was at around 0.01%. 

But you had booked it to safeguard yourself, and paid a hefty deposit. You weren’t going to get that back now.

“Don’t worry about the money, just… stay with me.” He pleaded.

“But I am worried about the money.” You admitted. “People like me have to be. I’ve already been frivolous enough trying to get here.”

“I’ll give it to you.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He frowned, and his hands fell away. You suddenly felt cold, craving his warmth and his touch again. You closed the space between you and rested your palms against his naked chest.

“I can’t just let something like that go, Harry. And I’ve never taken well to people just offering me things. Especially not money. I have to earn it. It’s not personal, I promise.”

“I just wanted to do something for you.”

“I know. But you don’t have to.”

He studied you for a moment, eyes searching your face. “What if I came with you?”

You chuckled. “Okay, keen bean. I think you need to slow down. Think about it for a minute.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going away.” You reminded him. “I’ll be half an hour down the road, that’s it.”

“Too far.”

You shook your head and dropped your forehead to his chest. “It’s not really.”

“I don’t want you staying somewhere alone.”

“If you weren’t here then I would’ve spent 4 weeks up here alone. With only badgers for company.”

“Compromise with me a little? Please?”

You sighed, and he wrapped himself around you so that you were cocooned in his hold.

“You go to the AirBnB, but I come with you. If you won’t let me pay for it, let me come with you.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to let it go unless you gave him something, you said, “I’ll think about it.”

~

The next three days were utter bliss.

The first day, you barely managed to get out of bed. From the moment you woke up to the second you fell asleep, Harry was on you, touching you, affecting you. It was beautiful and fulfilling and also exhausting. He wouldn’t leave you alone, but you didn’t mind. You were enjoying this side of him. You were enjoying this side of you - the one that didn’t constantly feel tense or on edge or irritated. You were happy.

The second day, you spent it in the car, just driving around the Highlands with no planned route and no destination. He held your hand tightly in his while you explored mountain passes and vast lochs and deep forests. You stopped at a roadside cafe and had quite possibly the best gluten free sandwich of your life - which you were surprised was even an option in the depths of nowhere - and then carried on to another quiet pass where you had some wildly incredible sex in the front seat of the car. It was almost midnight by the time you got home, and the shitty three-quarter bed in the cabin had never felt so comfortable. It was made all the better with Harry’s body wrapped around you.

On the third and final day, Harry had gone into full wooing mode. Every single part of the day felt like an attempt to bring you on side, whether it be staying at the cabin or allowing him to come to the bungalow with you. He started with a wake up call that involved his glorious face between your legs, followed by a fully gluten free breakfast spread. After a joint shower wherein he shagged you senseless against the tile wall from behind, he dragged you out into the perfectly mild Highland day for a hike up the nearest - small - mountain. You were back by lunchtime for a picnic by the lake and a dip in the water, with less chasing this time and more paddling. Then, after a nap in the cabin that resulted in yet more sex, he took you into the village for dinner at the nicest restaurant it had. It was no Nobu - not that you’d ever eaten there - but it was good food and perfect company.

“Are you ever going to tell me what you said to that paparazzi that followed us last week?” Harry asked when our dessert was taken away. He had a hand settled on the base of his wine glass, the candle on the table flickering so that light danced across his handsome face in odd ways. It only pronounced the sparkle in his eye.

You licked your lips, fighting off your smile. “Probably not.”

“Please? I feel like I deserve to know, given it could come back and bite me in the bum.”

You giggled at his use of the word ‘bum’. It was like his mother was in the room with you. “It won’t.”

“And how are you so certain, darling?” He leaned forward over the table, still entertained.

“Because, baby, it is literally impossible for him to do so.”

“Care to explain?” He rested his chin on a closed fist, smirking.

With a sigh, you leaned sideways and fished around in your bag until you found what you were looking for. Between your index and middle finger, you flashed the small SD card that the man had reluctantly handed over to you all those days ago.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Wow.”

“Uh-huh.”

“How’d you manage that?”

You thought back to your conversation outside the supermarket and let out a small laugh. “Er… I might have threatened to get the supermarket security involved for harassing customers, and then followed it with another threat to break his fancy camera and shove the SD card into some intimate places if he didn’t give it to me.”

Harry was staring at you like you were a mad woman. Maybe you were - you always did have a short fuse. “You said that?”

“Yes.”

He managed a blink. “You said that for me?”

“Yeah…”

He blew out a breath and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his beardy chin. “Which intimate places?”

You smiled, “Well, something that size wouldn’t have done much damage up his arsehole, would it?”

Harry grinned, shaking his head, “You’re amazing.”

“No. I just think everyone deserves a holiday without having the fucking press on their back for every second of it.”

He leaned forward again and grabbed your hand, littering it with kisses, “Amazing.”

“I’m sure you’d do the same if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d like to think I would, yes.”

Your hands tangled together in the middle of the table, and you traced the creases between them with your free hand. You took a deep breath as your thoughts rolled ahead to tomorrow and the decision you had to make. “Harry, I want to make a deal with you.”

His brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I want to go to the bungalow tomorrow alone.” He opened his mouth to object, but you squeezed his hand and shook your head. “I arranged this time away from home so I could get away from people and out of my head for a bit. And that’s not me saying I’ve had a shit time with you - I absolutely haven’t. But I need some space. I didn’t expect you when I turned up here and I’ve been kind of derailed from all the things I wanted to do.”

“That doesn’t sound like a deal.” He argued.

“That’s because I wasn’t finished.”

Even in the glow of the candlelight it was obvious he was blushing, “Sorry.”

Your lips twitched with a smile. “That being said, I know as soon as we’re apart I know I’ll miss you. Ludicrous as that sounds, because a week ago I still kinda hated you, but it’s the truth. I will miss you. I know what you’ve been doing the past three days and I’d be a big fat liar if I said it wasn’t working.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He said with feigned ambivalence.

“Yeah, sure.” You rolled your eyes, but now your smile was really helpless. “Anyway. I want a week, Harry. That’s it. Just one week to myself, so I can work on my deadline and actually get something done. Because I’ll be honest, as soon as I realised you were here that night I got here, I kind of forgot I had work to do at all.”

He looked to be turning everything over in his head. “One week?”

“Yep. Just seven days. And then we can spend my last week here together and you can do whatever you want with me. Does that sound fair?”

He pursed his lips. “You go home in two weeks?”

“I do. Have the train ticket to prove it, too.”

“You can’t stay longer?”

“My life isn’t that flexible, Harry.”

“No, I know.” He took a breath, staring at our hands, still intertwined on the table. “Do you still split your time between London and home?”

“I do. Mostly home, but my place in London gets enough use. When work needs me to come into the office, it’s convenient. I’ve been fighting it for a while, but I think I might have to move to London permanently eventually. They’re discouraging working from home.”

He grunted like he disapproved of it. “Okay… I will let you have your week so we can have our week afterward. And I’m coming home with you when you have to leave.”

“Oh, you are, are you?” You asked over a laugh. “Thank you for letting me know.”

He snorted. “This is my off-season. And while I thought I’d be spending it relatively alone, and definitely not with the woman who’s hated me for fuck knows how long, it turns out I actually… quite like that woman. When she doesn’t hate me so much.”

You lean forward, “Quite like her, do you?”

“I do. Very fond might be a better way of putting it. So, if she’d let me, I’d like to spend my downtime with her before I bugger off for fuck knows how long to do my job. Especially if that means finally seeing her illusive house.”

“If you think she owns a house, you’ll be very disappointed when you get there.”

“Do you not own your home?”

“No, I own it. It’s just not a house.”

“Ah. Well, even still. If you’ll have me, I want to visit.”

“Can I visit you in London?”

“If you don’t, I’ll be offended.”

“Then… I think we’ve made our deal.”

“I think we have.” Harry grinned. “Should we go back to celebrate?”

“Celebrate?” You had to laugh, “It’s not graduation, H.”

“It kind of is. Graduation from singledom.”

Something stirred in your belly, and not in a bad way. “Oh.”

“You okay with that?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Mhmm, I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” He pressed his lips to your hand. “I think we should fuck around with Holly and your brother, too.”

“Oo, how?”

“I have a few ideas…”

~

Four Weeks Later

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

You watched as a delighted squeal ripped out of your best friend, her hands clasped against her chest. Beautiful Holly beamed, her gaze touching on every single one of her invited surprise guests. “Oh my God!”

Your brother, ever the sap when it came to his wife - and rightly so - had organised a surprise birthday party for her 30th. You all knew, no matter how much she claimed she didn’t want anything special, that all of her favourite people in one room would mean the most to her. She’d been taken out for a birthday brunch by Harry so that you and your brother could turn their home into something fit for a party. 

Streamers hung from the light fittings and curtain rails. Banners were stuck to the walls. Party poppers had burst and sailed through the air the second the front door had been opened. Everyone donned some form of ridiculous party hat. Someone had put a tiara on Holly’s head. The kitchen was piled with food and drink. All guests had been instructed to arrive at 2:30pm for Holly’s return at 3 o’clock. Harry had been placed under strict instruction not to bring her home before then if he valued his life. If Holly’s day wasn’t perfect, he’d have your brother to answer to.

Harry caught your gaze across the room while everyone else corralled the birthday girl into their embraces. It held for longer than anyone else would expect of you, and apparently your brother noticed.

“Come help me in the kitchen a second,” he tugged on your wrist.

You looked away, following him to the back of the house. You fixed yourself a drink, the first alcoholic one of the day now that the guest of honour had arrived, and sunk it in one; a reward for pulling off a surprise party for the nosiest woman on the planet. You poured another, and then one for Holly, too.

You tried to slip away into the front room, but were stopped midway by a tall, foreboding figure.

“What are you doing?” The question came out a little snappier than intended, but you blamed it on nearly spilling Holly’s drink than being practically ploughed over by a certain someone.

Harry raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ve come to get Holly a drink. That alright?”

I kept my expression neutral and held out the plastic cup. “Here you go - Holly’s drink. I’ll even let you take the credit for it.”

“I daren’t give you the satisfaction.” Harry scoffed.

“Trust me, Harry, nothing you could do would ever satisfy me.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Your brother muttered.

Harry shot him a glance as he took the cup from you, purposefully brushing his fingers against yours, “Thank you so much.”

You flipped him the bird as he stalked off and rejoined your brother at the counter preparing the food for a barbecue.

“You know, it wouldn’t kill you two to try and get on for Holly’s sake. Just for one fucking day.”

You bit your tongue and hoped it passed as ire, “It’s not my fault he’s a raging prick.”

“That’s a stretch and you know it.”

Ignoring him, you worked on slicing carrots, celery, cucumber and peppers into slices for crudités. Was it really a birthday party if there were no crudités?

The answer is no.

“Alright,” your brother called across the packed room of people, “five minutes and the food is going on! Can I have a volunteer for help with the barbecue?” Holly started to raise her hand, but he slapped it back down, “Not you, gorgeous.”

Someone coughed “Simp”, and you had to cover a laugh.

“Alright,” Holly’s dad heaved himself up and out of his favourite armchair, “I’ll help. The student needs a master, after all.”

Holly rolled her eyes, but you knew she liked it when your brother and her dad found another way to bond.

When conversations picked back up you scurried off to the bathroom for a breather. Even though it was still early, the number of people stuffing themselves into the frankly small living room had you feeling claustrophobic. It wasn’t like you to feel that way often, but the charade you were putting on was making you nervous. You never got nervous, but lying wasn’t in your armoury, because you were actually generally shit at it.

You thought of Harry and his quiet - and sometimes not-so-quiet - confidence. He pulled off the hatred with ease. He had three films and a post-credit scene as experience for that. Or maybe he wasn’t acting at all… 

No. If last night’s bedroom activities were anything to go by, that couldn’t be true.

You washed your hands and splashed some water on your face to cool yourself down, and then let yourself out of the downstairs bathroom. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you found Harry on the other side of the door waiting.

“Fuck me,” you hissed.

Harry opened his mouth, no doubt with some witty retort that he’d already ‘done that’, but he was cut off by someone else stealing your attention.

Holly barrelled into you while yelling your name, dragging you away in a hug that was more like a headlock. “You are so naughty doing this! I said I didn’t want a party!”

“Yes, but look how happy you are,” You grinned at her. It took absolutely everything in you to not turn around and look at the handsome man who seemed to always linger in the right places.

“I am… I’m so happy, thank you.” She gave a content sigh. “The only thing that would make this better is if you and Harry could even just pretend to be amicable for like, five minutes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re super amicable all the time,” You said in the most blasé tone you could muster.

“Yeah right.”

“We were amicable at that dinner with your Nan.”

“That was for her sake.”

Something sharp pinched at your heart. She thought you didn’t try for her. If only she knew. But you had a part to play and you didn’t want to back out of it now. You were sticking to the plan. “I am not the problem. I’m very amenable.”

Holly frowned, the expression fraught with disapproval.

You sighed, “Sorry. Force of habit. It’s easy to blame someone you hate for your own misgivings.” Using the word hate in reference to Harry felt so wrong. Do it for the charade your brain screamed.

“Okay, enough. Maybe one day your brother and I won't have to separate you and Harry before you murder each other, but clearly today is not that day.”

Give it an hour or two and you might reconsider that statement you thought. “Yeah, maybe.”

For the next while you entertained Holly and avoided Harry while constantly throwing glances whenever you felt his presence. And you always felt his presence, as did everyone else in the room. There were clearly people here who didn’t expect him to show because they kept staring. You wished you could stare without such shame. You wished for other things, too, like to go over to wherever he was and just slip into his arms, or hold his hand, or kiss his mouth. But you did no such thing. You kept to yourself.

After the barbecue food had been eaten, your brother brought a huge cake out, homemade by your mother, with 30 candles on the top, all lit. Everyone sang Happy Birthday to Holly and watched her blow them out in three big huffs, and then it was taken inside to be cut up.

“I’m sorry it’s not gluten free, baby,” your mum sighed as slices of gooey chocolate goodness got passed around to all the guests.

“How many times have we had this conversation?” You chuckled, squeezing her into your side. “Gluten free cakes have the consistency of sawdust. They are shite. I’ll survive without cake.”

“Literally.” Ah, a rare coeliac joke.

You snorted. “Exactly.”

“Anyway,” she threw a surreptitious glance around the garden and then lowered her voice, “how long are you and Harry going to wind up your brother and Holly by pretending you still hate each other?”

“They’ll know later. Soon. It’s getting too hard considering they both just let themselves into our houses nowadays and they’re likely to catch us… in the middle of something.”

“Smart choice, poppet.”

“This is just payback for meddling.”

“Yes, but it worked out, didn’t it?”

You grunted unattractively. “Shush. We are not letting them believe they’re responsible for our relationship.”

“Are they not, though?”

“Of course not!” Alright, maybe a little. But you were never going to let them believe it.

You scanned the crowd again and caught the better half of your relationship sneaking inside. The urge to go after him and lock yourselves away in a bedroom became stifling, but somehow you refrained.

Twenty minutes later everyone was gathered around the birthday girl again and watching her open presents like it was Christmas fucking morning. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa watching her with a fond smile. Harry had tucked himself into a corner again like a fucking bat, but he wasn’t alone. He’d been talking to another girl for a while. You didn’t know her, although I recognised her from Holly and your brother’s wedding. Holly’s cousin, maybe? Anyway, she was… keen. Yep, definitely keen given her invested posture.

You tried not to give a shit, or at least pretend you didn’t. But you definitely did give a shit.

“Oo, what’s this?” Holly’s question piqued your curiosity, distracting you from staring at Harry.

You noted the envelope in her hands, unmarked, and smirked. Chancing a glance at Harry, he was already looking at you with the very same look on his face. 

Holly plucked the card out and read the note inside, her intrigued expression morphing into more confusion. Glancing around the room, gaze visibly lingering on Harry, she brought the card closer to her chest so that no one else could see, and peeked at the photo you knew was taped to the inside. She pressed the card to her chest and searched the room for you, eyes narrowing into slits when she found you.

“What is it, babe?” Your brother asked, trying to peel the card off her.

She smacked his hand away, “It’s a… gift voucher.”

“What for?”

The look she gave him was conspiratorial, “I’ll tell you later.”

“Bet it’s for Lovehoney.” Someone joked, the same person who called your brother a simp earlier on.

She snapped the card shut and slipped it back into the envelope, moving onto the next gift. Her demeanour had changed considerably. Holly was decidedly less excited about her other presents now, and she kept tossing glares between you and Harry. He was clearly fighting off laughter, and you pretended to be unaffected.

When her last present was revealed and she’d said her thank yous to everyone, Holly stood and primly excused herself to the bathroom. Not thirty seconds later, you were summoned to the bedroom upstairs by a text in all capitals.

You made a quiet escape and made your way up to the room you knew your brother shared with his wife and slipped in, Harry not long behind you. Holly was standing in the middle of the room with her arms folded and a deep scowl on her face. Your brother was there too, looking perturbed.

“What’s going on?” He asked, throwing a worried glance at his wife.

“Excellent question.” Holly snapped. “I want to know the exact same thing.”

Harry shut the door behind him, and then silently handed her a stack of more photos we’d printed on Polaroids, held together with an elastic band.

Holly got straight to work sifting through the pile, your brother’s gaze fixed on them over her shoulder. There were easily 30 photos there - in the lake, on walks, sharing ice creams, sunbathing, cuddled together on the sofa, kissing. It was a lot of selfies, something Harry refused to smile for, and it only made you smile bigger and laugh harder. But it had been Harry’s idea to immortalise the beginning of your relationship on that vacation, and it had been your idea to give the photos to Holly as a birthday present, because you knew it would make her happy. Her punishment for getting involved was waiting to find out.

While they studied your loose holiday album, Harry leaned against the door and tugged you back by the belt loops on your jeans so that your back fell against his front. You melted into him like butter, shuddering when his breath fanned across the top of your head. He placed a subtle kiss to your crown.

“I fucking knew it!” Holly squealed, taking a look at the photos again.

“Knew what?” You demanded.

“I knew putting you in that cabin together would give us results.” She grinned.

“Told you.” Harry muttered.

You shook your head, folding your arms. “Unbelievable.”

“How long did it take?” She was practically vibrating, bouncing with excitement. Your brother had to put a hand on her shoulder to keep her still.

“How long did what take?”

“To realise you like each other!”

“A couple of weeks?”

She squeaked again, clapping her hands. “Can I keep these?” She waggled the pictures in front of us.

“That’s what they’re for, Hols. We’ve got our own copies.”

“Yay!”

“Holly,” Harry said sternly.

She stopped fidgeting and looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze. You’d never heard him use that tone with her before. Only you.

“Please don’t meddle with my relationships again. We figured you were the reason we were both up there at the same time, but this didn’t come without a hitch. We still bickered and said some nasty shit to each other.”

“And I whacked my head the first morning.” You huffed.

Harry ran a comforting knuckle up and down your spine. “Also we’re not letting you take responsibility for the result.”

“Yeah, but we all know it never would’ve happened if I hadn’t meddled.” She was still grinning.

You made a contradictory noise, “We don’t know anything, actually. But anyway, we have some ground rules.”

“Don’t be boring.”

“We’re not, Hols,” Harry said softly.

“What are they?” Your brother asked.

You and Harry laid down the law - that mostly involved not saying anything for a while to anyone but family so that you could enjoy your relationship without the media being nosey. You’d finally found your footing with one another, and you didn’t need tabloids and paparazzi complicating your happy medium just yet. For now, you wanted to just enjoy one another. You’d had the same conversation with your parents.

“This is your birthday present, by the way.” You whispered as the four of you trundled back downstairs.

“It’s the best birthday present I’ve ever had.” You’d genuinely never seen your best friend smile so much.

Harry reached over for a high five, and you didn’t hesitate to slap it. “Nailed it.”

“Hey,” your brother sauntered into the kitchen, “you guys want ice cream?”

You and Harry shared a look, and burst into laughter, because ever since that day outside the cabin, ice cream always ended up being used as a form of foreplay.

“No, I’m good.” Harry grinned.

“Yeah, no thanks.” You shook your head, still fighting off laughter.

“Are we missing something?” Your brother looked bewildered.

“Nothing for you to worry about.” Harry slapped his shoulder.

Later that night, when the buzz of alcohol was starting to wear off and the comfort of a sofa called to you, Harry took out the tub of mint choc chip from the freezer and spoon-fed you until you were so tired you couldn’t open your mouth. 

“Tired?” He hummed.

“Shattered,” you yawned.

“You want me to put it away…?” He meant the ice cream tub.

You tilted your head all the way back to look at him, his face lit by only a warm glow of a candle. “Do you want to put it away?”

“No.”

“What do you want to do, then?”

He licked his lips and traced a pinky finger down your bare arm, “I want to lie you down on my bed and drip it down your chest, and then lick you from your throat to your thighs.”

And that’s exactly what he did.

~~~

Talk to me?

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[onsunnyside]

the cold is finally getting to me methinks bc im longing for king in the north!curtis 😌 big n burly in his bearskin cloak, your scary betrothed!! you're just a princess from far far away and he doesnt have to be nice to you or care about you but you're too sweetly scared to ignore

methinks he tells you that it gets too cold to sleep alone despite u having your own bedroom and clothes would get in the way of heat sharing so you'll have to be naked while you cuddle to sleep 🫣

i've always wanted to write a time period au and this has so much potential and more !!

resources were already scarce in your region and with the harshest winter approaching, your beloved homeland will be the first on the hitlist of bandits or other kingdoms, that is if you even survive the snowfall. and marriage will bring that security and power to your kingdom that your parents have always dreamt of. everyone thought Curtis did it as a favour to your kingdom bc it's so out of character for the king of war and bloodshed to tie himself to someone eternally (much less, someone so sweet and gentle). the King of the North was only ever known as the end, the indefinite death that lurked in every corner.

did you like him? well, how could you like him if he's never spoken to you, apart from the few sentences the day before your wedding and said stone-cold and uncomfortable wedding. oh, and you can't forget his gruff utterances as he passes you in the halls. he was intimidating, to say the least, draped in his bearskin cloak and his blue eyes always set in a steely glare as if he were prepping for war. you wouldn't be surprised if he was, he was known as the ruthless king after all.

You feel his hard gaze searing into your face, yet he's still silent and only quirks a brow. "You're upset." He states blankly, food is forgotten in front of him.

Across the large table, you wipe your nose, the same action that caught his attention in the first place. "N-No."

He clenches his jaw, "You know I hate liars." His deep voice rings through the dining room, the servants had left momentarily as per the king's request. "Come here." You almost say no again, but he raps his knuckles on the wooden table, "Now, princess." You stand from your seat and after a few tentative steps, you find yourself standing between his spread thighs. "I-I miss home." Your voice cracks, "I miss the flowers and the wisteria trees, I miss the pond with the ducks and fish. I-I miss the sky! It was blue—so blue, and there are only clouds over here." You hate to sound so torn, but you're so lonely! You're forced to navigate unknown territory alone, going days without even a conversation with your husband!

now, don't hate curtis. he's a very busy busy man, his kingdom isn't the most feared (respected ??) for nothing and his loyal subjects aren't prospering just because. he's been working nonstop to communicate with your hovering parents, and ofc, spreading the word that the most sought-after princess has been wedded.

you get even more upset when you don't see curtis the next day and the day after that. although your marriage was more of a pitiful agreement, you still expected him to comfort you, or at least to listen to your mindless weeping about the damn sky!

oh... as surprising as it may be for the rest of the world, it turns out Curtis has a heart bc the next time you see him, he's standing by a large door. with an outstretched hand, he brings you close, holding your shocked face between his warm palms and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead (the closest act of intimacy he's shown since your wedding).

"Your homeland plants can't survive here during the time of year, but these can." He gestures to the small garden, peeking out from the neverending snowfall was itty bitty flowers, colourful and vibrant amongst the white. "There would be more, but only so few were found in the forest."

me thinks... when curtis turns total protective husband mode and gives into his desires, he never lets you leave his side. you become his wife in every sense of the word, his other half. if he could, he'd have you on his lap during meetings or as he sits on his throne. don't get me started on the filthy stuff: you're a virgin, and he didn't touch you on your wedding night, apart from a stiff kiss at the altar. he's equally sweet and mean, lots of kissing and touching, but also crude remarks that he whispers in your ear to watch you get all flustered.

also: he persuades you to sleep in his bed naked, it's easy to convince a clueless girl like you. he starts off with some light caressing, then reclines and asks if you want to explore his body instead. one thing leads to another and well... pussyjob with big beefy curtis while he talks about how he can't fit inside you 🫣🫣

#king of the north curtis #brandycranby<3 #sonnysprompts #sonny drabbles #Curtis Everett #Curtis Everett au #Curtis Everett drabble #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x reader

[weirdwyvern]

Collection of observations so far on Pokémon Legends: Z-A

It'd be reasonable to assume that PLZA is going to be based around the same time period as Haussmann's renovation of Paris, a major public works initiative focused on city modernization (by the day's standards). This included taking down a lot of medieval neighborhoods and replacing them with avenues, squares, and parks, as well as installing extensive water-based features such as sewers, aqueducts, and (of course) fountains. Haussmann was eventually dismissed bc he was being way too extravagant with spending (along with other political stuff etc etc), but the modern-day layout of central Paris still directly echoes his designs.

The renovation period lasted from 1853-1870, which would put PLZA in roughly the same timeframe as PLA; the Meiji Restoration (also called the Meiji Renovation, ironically) began in 1868.

However, the aesthetics they've chosen for the announcement trailer are giving me pause. Though the drafting/sketching portion certainly has an old-timey feel to it, the use of a holographic, wireframe style to show the city feels markedly futuristic. In addition, one of the humans we see (the woman sitting at a table next to a Klefki) appears to be using a smartphone. Whether or not we're gonna have another Arc Phone situation has yet to be seen.

This could just be a way of expressing "here's what Lumiose is PLANNED to look like far in the future, and this game is going to be focused on building towards that future." As there was a "Not actual gameplay footage" disclaimer at the beginning there, we can assume that nothing shown in the trailer is necessarily going to appear in-game – tho I'd imagine at least some of the models are going to be utilized (two birds, one stone).

With how Pokémon has played around with ancient/futuristic dichotomies (Unova, Paldea) and time travel (Alola, Hisui, and…many others tbh) in the past, though, it'd be interesting if PLZA wound up being a futuristic isekai to complement the distant-past adventure of PLA.

All that said, if PLZA is set in the past: We are all but certainly going to see young (or at least younger) AZ.

Very interested in this logo! Presumably it's comparable to that of the Galaxy Team, though unlike that one, it doesn't share much resemblance to the logo of its region's future evil team (Team Flare). The most similar organization logo we've seen thus far would be that of the Aether Foundation.

The only theory I have at present is that it could potentially be related to Diancie, which was first introduced in Kalos. The logo could be a stylized version of the incomplete ring & glittering gem around its neck.

Adjacent to that: I get the feeling that the Anistar City Sundial is going to have some level of importance to the plot. In XY, the Sundial allows the player to upgrade their Mega Ring + locate more Mega Stones throughout the region. As the Mega Evolution symbol was prominently displayed at the end of the presentation, we may get to learn some more about it and its origins – especially that bit about how it supposedly descended from space.

Other assorted notes:

We may get to see Camphrier Town – or, at least, Shabboneau Castle – during its heyday!

The A in PLZA's logo shares a similar construction to the marking on Xerneas' chest. It also has a plantlike pattern on it, which would connect to Xerneas' ability to induce life/growth…or it could be interpreted as a veinlike pattern, which would connect to Yveltal's design. It could also be completely unrelated to the Aura Trio lmao

I want to see Emmet so bad. Put both of those muppets in situations. Also I want double battles back please I'm begging and pleading stop making me fight 3+ enemies with only one Pokémon on my side–

#pokemon #pokemon legends za #plza #diancie #kayla burbling

[dduane]

Diners first making the acquaintance of this modern Arlene high-table delicacy generally become too busy enjoying it to bother inquiring about its origins. But its refined appearance as served by the royal kitchens in Prydon to the King's guests (or to casual passers-by, since Kynall Castle's refectories are open to all) goes far to conceal its robust genesis as a fishermen's dish of the coastal and riverine country between the eastern and western branches of the Upper Arlid.

The original version of what would later be known as "Silver and Gold" (Arl./N.Arl. Dekhen-u-Ihrsen) was devised by North Arlene prawn fishermen who needed to find a use for shellfish they'd caught that were too small or damaged to offer in the coastal markets of Fûrdéin and Asfahæg. These "subpar" shrimp would be boiled in brine abroad ship and then kept submerged in frequently-renewed seawater until the fishermen made port.

There the ocean shrimp-fishers would meet with their freshwater-fishing counterparts, some of whom would be bringing in new-landed starscale pike (and other types) from the broad and busy breeding grounds of the upper Arlid delta. Cooked salt-water prawns would readily enough be bartered for sweetwater pike and their fine-grained, golden roe—or acquired by taverners in the "borderer" port towns east and west of Rûl Tyn—and cooked together with them.

A popular longshoremen's approach, because it kept well after cooking, was to mix and bind the chopped-up shrimps with grated dried bread and egg to make fish balls or thick cakes. These would be stuffed with chunks of roe from either marine or riverine fish—pike's roe being a favorite for its buttery and slightly smoky flavor, and the roes sometimes being cooked separately first. Then the (sometimes) breaded fishcakes would be fried in whatever fat was regionally most plentiful.1 The fried cakes could afterward be served up in a number of ways: by themselves—though often dipped in savory sauces heavy on whitefruit—pressed onto bread trenchers or sippets and sauced on top, or wrapped in wheaten or oaten platebreads in the Darthene coastal style.

But later on, during the period in the mid-1900s p.A.d.2 when a series of dynastic and climatic disasters led the North Arlene crown to resign most of its major functions to the Arlene Throne, the nature of the dish (as of many others originally native to North Arlen) began to change. Late-century cooks in Prydon and other northern Arlene cities began to upscale North Arlene cuisine in general as a kind of culinary tribute to a kingdom in decline. In the process they transformed this coastline shellfish dish into a more sophisticated composition seen (correctly or incorrectly) as more suited to urban palates, and tailored to emphasize the fresh marine flavor of the prawns.

The dish's modern name refers specifically to the classic Prydon-devised version in which the pale color of the meat of the shrimp is made to contrast strongly with the gold of pike caviar—in this presentation, now delicately rubbed out of the original "skeins" of roe to be served on top. And while we can certainly approach the flavor of the dish when making it on our own Earth, one thing we can't approach is the perfect paleness of the Arlene versions.

This is because we lack a specific and vital ingredient: the Arlene pewter shrimp, Metacrangon peltrumis medioregnis. While otherwise generally similar to Crangon crangon, the common our-Earth north Atlantic "gray shrimp", M. peltrumis is missing something normally commonplace among crustaceans: the protein complex called astaxanthin, which normally reacts with another complex called crustacyanin to produce the red shell and pinkish flesh coloration typical of cooked shrimps.3 As a result, the cooked flesh of the pewter shrimp is pure white, with no other colors to interfere with the shrimp's silvery presentation on the plate.

These more citified versions of dekhen-u-ihrsen involve, somewhat paradoxically, less cooking but more labor. After peeling and deveining, the cooked and chopped pewter shrimp are crushed and pounded in a mortar... hence the term "brayed" in the recipe name. (This indicates that the mortared shrimp mixture has a consistency smoother than something knife-chopped, but nonetheless more textured than an otherwise-mechanically produced puree.) After the addition of soured cream and spices, the mixture is molded between spoons and chilled in an ice-room until it firms slightly, and then served forth on toasted sippets and topped with iced pike caviar.

The use of the term "sallet" in the recipe name harks back (in one linguistic direction) to our many uses for the word "salad", and (in a different, more archaic one) to transitional early-1900s versions of the dish in which the pounded and formed shrimp was served out on roasted lettuce or cooked bitterleaf greens. In current versions, such as the one we illustrate here, greens are often still part of the presentation. But the main theme of the dish remains the contrast between the pale delicacy of the pounded shrimp and the glistening gold of the caviar.

See the right-hand tab on this page for the full recipe. 

1 In North Arlen this would normally be sunflower, palm oil, or treenut oil (from the Middle Kingdoms version of our Shea tree, Vitellaria paradoxa).

2 The commonly-used abbreviation for pai Ajnedäre derüwin: "since the Arrival". i.e. of the Dragons, and the destruction of the Dark.

3 More information on our Earth's recent discovery of this chemical interaction can be found in this interesting paper.

#Middle Kingdoms #Middle Kingdoms meta #Food and Cooking of the Middle Kingdoms #recipe

[dragonthunders01]

Spec Evo Vault, Gourmand

In the world of "The New Dinosaurs", Tyrannosaurs in general managed to stay for a while as the dominant predatory "Carnosaurs" in the north regions until they slowly were replaced, but on the Neotropical regions (South America) of earth, on the grasslands of the far south, a relict survived from a branch that split out and leaked through a early land bridge across the continent around 55 million years ago.

From there the Gourmand evolved, it followed the trend of larger, even heavier big head tyrannosaurs, which lost their arms in the totality of the structure, neither atrophied bones of the shoulder girdle remained, meanwhile its legs and pelvis have adjusted to hold the even more massive body, as it not longer possess the tall more gracile bulk form that helped it to maintain a long distance gape, but a very robust and short leg form that allows it to sustain and balance the elongated form.

The early account of this titanic theropod remark that due to their massive size they Gourmand is incapable to hunt down large prey so they rely on feed on dead carcasses an digest them in long periods of time resting in the grass, having its long armor that protect it against any other predatos.

Is capable to unhinge the mandibles being capable to gobble up any potential meal, which for the lack of any shoulder bone it allows it to properly take large prey like a deep water fish.

In the manga though, from what I have hear (haven't been able to see the content for myself) there is the reference the Gourmand actually being more active and responsive towards any other predator capable to take down Cutlasstooth like in the cover, unlike the implication of the original book which depicted it as a very slow creature.

Comments and notes -I guess is interesting how this almost looks like a idealization of the "Scavenger tyrannosaur" hypothesis that have been existing for a century and went more popular around paleocircles in the late 90s and early 2000s for Horner, is not like Dixon was defending this idea maybe more like it was considered plausible if theropods became even bigger they would become slower animals that couldn't hunt its prey but go for an easy meal like a corpse, and so, depend more of scavenging.

-The way his jaw disarticulates from the skull always seemed strange to me, almost as if the jaw doesn't have an extra bone that allows it to extend, sort of like a quadrate snake that offers that extension, it just falls off and is hold by pure muscle. As well for a group characterized for the lowest kinetic skulls ever, would be odd they reverse this specialization only to become gobblers, would be likely a strong mandible could offer more opportunities to consume a prey. Even with the chance a tyrannosaur skull could become more kinetic, it likely would depend on expand the jaw structure around without detaching the lower jaw, like is inferred some theropods would have do, and specifically how it was found in spinosaurs.

-I think is interesting there might be more tyrannosaurs living in the new dinosaurs book with a mildly success, the gourmand is the only described species of the group and for the the width of the lineage in the table it really imply they are doing something decent with the number of species, where exactly are living is unknown

#speculative evolution #alternative evolution #theropoda #tyrannosaur #non kpg #the new dinosaurs

[makeallthingsyours]

Differences between day to day life on Vulcan and on Earth

• Weekdays

On Earth, traditionally, week lasts seven days. Typically, five of those are working days and two are not. On Vulcan, the week lasts five days, honoring the five basic tenets of Vulcan philosophy (See: 'Surak's Construct'). Four days are working days, and one is a free day. It is meant to honor the fifth tenet - privacy, as it allows a person to tend to their private affairs.

• Workday

On Earth an average working day would last eight hours out of the twenty four there are in the day. On Vulcan, the day is slightly longer, but the average Vulcan still works about eight hours a day. That is, however, often divided into two four hour periods with a two hour break in the middle, when the temperature piques. It is a well liked carry over from times before climate. control.

• Meals

On Earth, the typical schedule includes two bigger meals, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. Due to the high temperatures many Vulcan regions reach in mid-day and Vulcan physiology, it is customary to eat two meals during the day, one early in the morning and one late in the evening.

Meals are usually taken in silence, however, conversation is commonplace when only drinking beverages.

High and low tables are equally common on Vulcan, however the low table setting is considered more traditional and hence, formal.

The idea of 'cocktail party' has been introduced to Vulcans early in the Earth-Vulcan relations, however, it didn't stick, mostly due to the fact that the art of dividing time between eating and talking was never discovered on the planet. During the few that did take place, most of the Vulcan guests either talked and didn't eat or ate and didn't talk.

As it is custom on Vulcan to avoid touching food with one's hands, there are many more kinds of utensils that enable one to eat almost every conceivable type of food that way.

• Letters

Vulcan has, essentially, four separate alphabets - El'ru-Kitaun (handwriting), Vanu-Tanaf-Kitaun (calligraphy), Gotavlu-Zukitan (standard print) and a modernized print that gains popularity in bigger cities. While most citizens are capable of reading all of them, it is common for city residents to only be able to write in calligraphic script by hand, as every-day handwriting is not as popular there as it is in rural regions.

• Clothes

It is, to say the least, not customary for adult Vulcans to wear split garments in a way that is visible. If one is wearing any kind of trousers or bloomers, it would ussually remain hidden underneath a long robe. The only circumstances, in which it wouldn't be considered a bit unusual to wear visible trousers are sports, manual labor, travel by foot or on beastback, and work in which loose fabric could cause danger, for example on a space vessel That is the reason for the skin tight garments commonly worn by the crews of Vulcan spaceships.

• Windows

It is something that might easily confuse and Earthling, but Vulcan buildings often lack glass in the windows. It is very common, especially in houses, that windows are only covered with curtains, as it allows better air circulation without unnecessary air conditioning. Glass is, however, used in a different manner. Many houses have a basement with a glass roof, functioning as an indoor greenhouse.

• Holidays

Vulcan Clan holidays (weddings, betrothal, historic anniversaries, successful kahs'wan celebrations, etc.) as opposed to the common holidays, which are ussually celebrated in private, are typically long and involve gathering tens or even hundreds of people in a Clan Home. (It is a big building belonging to someone in the clan, most often the Matriarch. Every member of the Clan has the right to come and stay there however long they please.) If the Clan Home is too small by itself, tents would be put up on the grounds.

Vulcan employers are typically very liberal with granting leaves of absence for Clan/House/Family reasons (Vulcan, similarly to Earth, is considered to be a post-scarcity world, so with the exception of people bound by contracts eg. Starfleet, the majority doesn't strictly need to work. It has its benefits, of course but missing a few weeks worth of pay doesn't change much.), so one can often expect to stay at such celebration for days, or in some cases, weeks.

• Laundry:

Vulcans have a slightly different attitude towards it then the one cultivated on Earth. Outermost garments are generally only washed if they get dirty and even then, they would ussually be only spot cleaned with water and detergent. Traditionally, one would only wash their underwear with water, while the rest of the clothes would be regularly aired and layed out in the sun. While in the modern day, sonic cleaners are getting more and more popular, the traditional route is still very much in use, as it is very much sufficient to maintain both hygiene and neatness.

#vulcans #vulcan #vulcan headcanons #vulcan culture #star trek headcanon #planet vulcan #vulcan language #vulcan traditions

[calabria-mediterranea]

The view from Mount Scafi - Condofuri, Calabria, Italy

The importance of the goat in the Greek Calabrian mountains of Aspromonte

Overlooking the sunrise and the charms of the Southern Ionian coast of Calabria, the vast area of Bovesìa represents an ethno-cultural basin of ancient origins.

The presence of the Greek-Oriental communities that arrived on these shores was able to survive the Latinisation ordered by the Normans from the 11th century onwards, rigorously preserving the language of its origins, today known as the Greek dialect of Calabria, its traditions, music and food, establishing a true koinè.

Walking into the town of Gallicianò is like landing out-of-the-blue on a parched Aegean hillside. The road signs are in Greek; kids shriek and tease each other in Greek; the church is Greek Orthodox; even the flags are Greek.

Calabrians of the Greek area have about as many words for goat as the Inuit—according to that popular urban legend, on Baffin Island, say, or in northern Siberia—have for snow. There’s a poster in the museum in Bova, the capital of Calabria’s Aspromonte Grecanica region, listing dozens of goaty Greco-Calabrian terms, and to the untrained ear of a foreigner they could sound like invocations: O tragopuddho (a young billy goat); to rifi ozzopodi (a young goat that gets separated from the flock); asti tripimeno (a goat with a hole in its ear). A goat bell can be either a cambana, cuduni, cudhuneddho or cudunaci; not to be confused with enan ximerinaci (a bell worn by a small goat) or, god forbid, enan mpecurinaci—a bell worn by a lamb.

The goat is among the most agile and graceful animals of the Greek Aspromonte. Present since prehistoric times, it is perfectly adapted to its meager pastures and the steep walls of its mountains, thanks to its ability to balance which allows it to climb anywhere, even trees. The food requirement of a goat is in fact equal to a tenth of that of a cattle, despite its milk production being higher.

These animals were raised not only for their milk (gala) but also for their meat and skins, from which they made clothes and wineskins, drums and wind instruments such as bagpipes.

The Arab chronicler 'Abu al-Fida (1273-1331) later mentions the abundance of goats in the Ionian Aspromonte, when he refers to the large number of animals slaughtered on the slopes of the castle of San Niceto, during a Saracen incursion.

Since the Middle Ages, goat farming has played a considerable role in the local economy, to the point that the pastures were strictly regulated.

During the sixteenth century, goat farming was, together with silkworm farming, the major source of income.

Among the most important dairy products, a mention should be reserved for a traditional table cheese, consumed exclusively during the Easter period, called musulupu, "bite of the wolf". Similar to tuma, this fresh cheese is still prepared with artisanal methods and tools, packaged in particular anthropomorphic molds called musulupare. It goes well with seasonal vegetables, pasta and on Easter Eve it becomes the basis for a typical omelette from Bovesìa.

Even breeding follows ancient practices, the same as the Greek and Byzantine shepherds who for centuries led their flocks through transhumances from the coasts to the most inaccessible mountains of Aspromonte. Flocks of goats can be seen everywhere traveling the length and breadth of the Grecanica area.

Photo by Quelli che Reggio Calabria

Follow us on Instagram, @calabria_mediterranea

#condofuri #calabria #italy #italia #south italy #southern italy #mountains #mountain #mountainscape #beautiful view #beautiful views #mediterranean #mediterranean sea #goat #goats #europe #landscape #italian landscape #landscapes #italian landscapes #history #aspromonte #bovesia #greek #gallicianò #bova #griko #byzantine #byzantine empire #cheese

[prpfs]

🪷

hello !

⸻ introduction : ❪ twenty2 , they / she , est ❫ looking for other 20+ writers for a very dark oc x oc roleplay featuring dead dove themes. i write solely on discord with the use of tupperbox in third person perspective. realistic face claims are a must. replies are adv. literate , multi-para , occasionally novella length but that depends on my interest level. response times vary but usually i'm able to reply once every two or three days , and i'm always around for chatting. triggers & limits will be discussed privately !

⸻ what i'm looking for : i'm in a bit of a writing slump so i'm seeking dedicated & experienced partners. plotting & world-building are a must as we will most likely be crafting the plot from the ground up & i'm not interested in being the only one coming up with ideas or telling you how to write your own character , i want this to be a group effort ! all gender pairings are on the table but i'm leaning more towards mxf or fxf & i generally have no preference when it comes to the gender and/or bedroom role i play — i just want to play against interesting , multi-dimensional , & well developed characters. (low-key absolutely need to write against some gross & depraved girls - rough around the edge , & unconventional. i'm not looking to play against blonde subby brats especially if they have no personality outside of that.)

⸻ general vibe / themes to explore : religious fanaticism , isolation , shared psychosis — folie à deux , different time periods (90's, 80's, 20's, any historic war period) , character's doomed by the narrative , regional gothic , serial killers , blood is thicker than water / incest , soft science fiction , cycle of abuse , addiction , dog motif (devotion) , power imbalance , age gaps (🍪) , cannibalism as a metaphor , mind break , hurt/comfort or hurt & no comfort , hole theory (emptiness, longing) , body horror , enemies to lovers , corruption , & so much more . . .

obviously all of these won't be included — but they're general things i wouldn't mind including.

like and i'll reach out ! please be willing to send a short introduction along with what caught your eye about this ad or any initial ideas you had or characters you'd like to use.

CIS MEN & MINORS DNI

Leave a like, and anon will get back to you!

#oc roleplay #oc rp #oc x oc #m/f #f/f #dead dove #20+ rp

[minecraftbookshelf]

heeebeedeebs ok, so, any headcanons for the marriage of state au on like....uh.... heh.... burial customs? for like... the cod alliance?

(also maybe also wither rose toooooo????)

ooooooooo!

So I actually hadn't thought about this yet which is why it took me a couple of days to answer, i had to poke at it a bit. So now I do have thoughts!

This might get a little bit gruesome, along the lines of frank discussions of dead bodies and disposal thereof.

Cod Alliance

The Swamp being...swampy, it doesn't lend itself to burial very well. The honored dead are burned (dry wood is a valuable resource) and the dishonored dead are basically dumped in a specific corner of the swamp very heavily populated with Things That Eat People. (Mostly Catfish and Alligators, this is an American South swamp/bayou biome in my heart, which does, unfortunately, mean they have mosquitoes) They also have wakes, like full party mode, music and alcohol and stories of the deceased. They were also an occupied territory for several centuries, with very few resources left to them, community support in time of bereavement is very important. Especially in situations where the deceased supported a family.

The Ocean Empire buries at sea. The dead are weighted down and taken to the Deep Ocean and dropped there. Think whale fall. They are a bit more solemn about their rituals than The Swamp but there are several similarities. They have an appointed grieving period of two weeks, during which the loved ones of the deceased are sequestered.

Mezaleans build mausoleums. Their dead are burned and the ashes interred with their families or, for an honored few, mostly royals who provided exceptional service to their people, beneath the Mother Tree. There is also a public mausoleum in each city for those without families, though those people are few, as Mezaleans engage in liberal social adoption. Most people find themselves quietly absorbed into some sort of family unit before they have been alone too long (but that is a whole nother post). They also tend to build memorials, ranging from small potted gardens of favorite flowers to full, larger-than-life statues. They don't believe in reincarnation so much as in redistribution of energy and preservation of memory.

Pixandria, for somewhat obvious reasons, has a very unique relationship with death (and also Death). They also have a party, celebrating the passage from life to death, though theirs is less focused on memories of the past than the Swamp and more on congratulating the dead on their migration to the next stage of existence. Every death celebration includes a seat at the table for Death herself, that is kept liberally supplied with food and alcohol at all stages of the festivities. They bury their dead, and quickly, since corpses don't keep long in the desert. Priests and royals are buried in catacombs beneath the Anthill while everyone else is buried in one of a few designated locations in the desert. (The party does not start until everyone is safely back in the oasis or Anthill, as travelling drunk through the desert is a good way to end up having to repeat the entire event again very shortly, and while they do not fear death, they do also value life.)

Wither Rose Alliance

Mythland also buries their dead. I haven't thought too much about the details but the primary religion of the region is a blood cult so there is definitely something done with the blood of the deceased. It's drained from the body and they use it for some sort of memorial ritual. These are not open to outsiders and are usually closed affairs involving only the family and close friends of the deceased and a single priest of the blood sheep.

The Crystal Cliffs, as an empire made up in no small part of people who are direct transplants from other empires, do their best to honor the cultural practices of the deceased. If not, they practice a form of sky burial, as the sheer stone cliffs don't offer a lot of burial opportunities and they territory is too small for it to be practical. The native population consider dead bodies functionally as waste matter, no longer important once it is no longer inhabited by a living soul. It's just a matter of practical disposal. Though as stated, they will go to great lengths to respect the wishes of the dead regarding the disposal of their bodies, including transporting them all the way to Pixandria if necessary.

The Grimlands also bury their dead. (You can see some similarities here, in this alliance.) They have a couple of different regional variations, but they do bury their dead. If the deceased died of illness or redstone poisoning they are burned, to avoid contaminating the land or the living. They usually have a memorial service, and immediate relatives are expected to undergo a grieving schedule not unlike the Ocean. (This probably came from the salmon hybrid population)

Gilded Helianthia, like their primary allies, buries their dead but they do so fully communally, and without any kind of coffins or excess wrappings. Where you are buried depends entirely on when you die. Bodies are left in the ground for five years, to allow full decomposition of all tissues, then the bones are exhumed and burned and the ashes scattered over the ground they were buried in. Once a zone has been completely exhumed, it is converted into farmland. This is one of the ways they rotate their croplands and maintain soil health.

Rivendell has a couple of different burial traditions, depending on how high in the mountains you are. They have a relatively small population, and their birth and death rates are such that it remains fairly steady. Which is to say, both death and birth are fairly rare, when nature is allowed to run its course. (This does mean that things such as war, famine, and sickness can be devastating for them, as it can be very difficult to recoup the population loss) Death is a solemn affair, funeral rites take place over the course of at least a week, and the body is displayed for a significant portion of that. The cold climates of the mountain allow for that. Afterwards the body is burned and the ashes either scattered from a high peak, or into the river, depending on where the deceased lived. This releases the soul for reincarnation, and to deny this to someone is a very serious statement. Mourning periods vary from 1-10 years, depending on relationship with the deceased, age of the mourner, age of the deceased, and several other factors. The grieving are monitored carefully for signs of Fading during this time.

The Lost Empire has four different distinct burial traditions, equating to the four elements their culture is based around. Pyre, burial, sky burial (done from the tree-tops), and water burial. The rulers are buried on a rotation. (Joey is scheduled to be burned after death, and he maintains this is incredibly romantic given Xornoth's own elemental powers. Xornoth thinks he's weird.)

Everyone Else

It's literally just the Overgrown and Undergrove left at this point so might as well XD

The Overgrown, being fae, and having a very strong nature alignment, return their bodies to the Spring. Fae bodies also, to put it bluntly, decompose very, very quickly. Almost dissolving over the course of a day or so. Burial is swift and flowers are planted to memorialize the deceased.

The Undergrove does not currently have a population beyond Shrub themself, but the gnomes were/are fungal farmers and had very practical views on the burial of bodies, not dissimilar to those of Gilded Helianthia.

-

AU Masterpost

#ask and it shall be answered #sleepingjasminetea #rain rambles #marriage of state au #empires smp #empires s1 #empires smp headcanons #seablings #rivendell siblings #wither rose alliance

[markantonys]

I’ve never watched wheel of time but I will say that I think something to be said for the debate about costuming is that the game of thrones costumes were INSANE when it came to quality and detail. At least in the first few seasons they were hand-sewn, hand-embroidered, etc. There was a big coffee table type book about them that broke down a lot of the choices the costume designers and department made and the quality of that department still blows me away!!! They were gorgeous and complex and took so much of the worldbuilding and politics into account!

And from what I’ve seen, it seems like the Wheel of Time costumes do the same, it’s just that they draw from very different references and eras!! Maybe there will be some kind of bts/special feature breakdown of what they referenced and the different ideas they drew from for the costuming for WOT. That seems like it would be a good time. It’s really annoying and really unfortunate that a lot of people refuse to see past their own preconceptions of what fantasy means. I’m sorry that so many people are making assumptions about fantasy costuming in your notes, especially. It’s a genre that spans much wider than lotr and game of thrones! Perhaps more people should. Idk. Engage with it more and find that out. Maybe that would fix them.

yeah!! haha it really was just 2 complaints in my notes on a gifset that otherwise had universal gushing about how much people loved the costumes, so thankfully most people are enjoying the WOT costumes (and not being annoying in my notes) and i was definitely being dramatic in my complaints about the complaints! still, there's something to be said about how ingrained ideas of "this is what fantasy costumes are Supposed to look like" are in us, when fantasy as a genre MEANS there's no set definition of what ANYTHING is "supposed" to be.

i didn't watch GOT but i've seen plenty of gifs etc over the years, of course, and the costumes are absolutely beautiful and very detailed! and from what i understand, the books were going for a medieval europe type of vibe for the main kingdoms and so in that respect the show's costumes definitely understood the assignment (tho ofc with their own added Fantasy Flavor). the downside is that they were so influential that it's made a lot of people subconsciously think that that is THE fantasy aesthetic (along with LOTR), and thus anything too different looks out of place to them.

there have been a couple WOT costume bts features that i've seen, and the designers did indeed do similar things where they showed how much stuff was handmade and how detailed everything is, and they talked about taking inspiration from many different real-world cultures & time periods as well! a lot of which is based on the way the author described clothes in the books and the real-world fashion influences he was using. i remember in a season 1 bts the costume designer had a map of WOT's world color-coded according to which real-world cultures are the primary inspirations for the dress of each region of WOTworld (although i think it's a different costume designer for season 2 so i don't know if they adhered 100% to the s1 designer's notes).

to conclude, here are some caps from a scene in s1 that features a large international gathering (same color=same wizard faction, but within each faction are women of many different cultures, so you can see for example that our 4 blue ladies are wearing 4 very different styles). i wouldn't say these are the best costumes in the show because season 2 really took it up a notch (hello, higher budget!), but this particular scene is a great quick illustration of the wide variety of styles going on in the vast continent of WOTworld and of how much detail goes into costumes even for nameless background characters. and most of them do feature the sort of clean lines/angularity that makes our brains go "modern", and most of them do look quite different from the GOT & LOTR aesthetics!

#one of these days i'd love to make a 'fav s2 costumes' gifset but there's so many to choose from i wouldn't even know where to start! #anonymous #answered

[mapsontheweb]

Periodic table of US metro areas over 2 million people

by u/TheMapStack

I was inspired by some other periodic table-style data visualizations and made one for US metro areas. Enjoy!

Data: Metro area boundaries come from TIGER, population data comes from census.gov, and the regions comes from the National Geographic Society.

Tools used: ArcGIS, Adobe Illustrator

Find me at https://geographybygeoff.substack.com/ if you're interested in finding more stuff by me.

#maps #TheMapStack #us cities

[persephones-domain]

We are made of Star Dust

Though the overwhelming majority of humanity has never grazed the cosmic void, our atoms derive from deep space.

Almost every atom within each of us was once actually part of a nebula - The exact same atoms that build our bodies, were created by stars.

Giant stars, far larger than our Sun, veer towards a dramatic death at the final stages of their spectacular existence - The remainder of a star's energy then irradiates gas and dust that collect all around it, generating new elements that will enrich the atmosphere from which future stars and planets can eventually form.

So over the course of billions of years, these atoms are "recycled" into an uncountable number of different things, in all possible configurations, from simple table salt (NaCl) to our own, very complex, helical DNA that make us uniquely...Us.

But it's always the very same atoms produced in these colossal stellar deaths: matter that dying stars shed from their external layers during the last phase of their life.

And what we're witnessing is death and rebirth on the cosmic scale!

The intense radiation from the star's final explosion then contributes, through collisions of all those atoms in the outer layers, to form heavier atoms (almost everything from Iron (Fe) onwards on the periodic table).

Without supernovae, none of what we have around us would exist!

What then remains in the centre depends on the mass of the star - some supernova events leave behind a super-dense neutron star, while other more massive stars leave behind black holes.

This is the dust (all atoms except hydrogen and helium) inside the giant star-forming region known as the Pillars of Creation, about 6,500 light-years away (source: NASA/ESA/CSA/STScl)

They are, in turn, part of a much larger region called the Eagle Nebula, a young open cluster of stars in the constellation Serpens, part of a diffuse emission nebula, or H II region.

This image here was taken by the camera of the James Webb Space Telescope, at infrared wavelengths.

Within its depths, are a myriad of protostars and early stars in formation.

#supernova #JWST #nebula #astrophysics #cosmic dust #pillars of creation #we are made of stardust #science #astro #astrophotography #james webb space telescope #The redshifted rebel #persephone et al.

[hyba]

The Star Seal, drafting

I haven't worked on my Scareuary stories much this past week, as I'm a bit sick. Something about the creative thinking work involved in the writing of a story was a little too much; but now I'm starting to feel a bit more up to it, and I decided I would also start sharing the drafting of my short story wip "The Star Seal".

"The Star Seal" is about an archaeologist who, late one night while working in a museum, removes a star seal from a life-sized ancient statue, unleashing a monster...

This short story is the one that I've been sharing as a Write-With-Me type of thing, so I've been drafting directly on my blog, and now I'm going to be sharing that draft here. It hasn't been edited, and is a very first draft. I'll reblog with any additions, but to get the full process and behind-the-scenes, you'll want to follow it on the blog.

So, without further ado, I present to you my horror story in the works, The Star Seal.

The statue was an oddity, as far as statues from the region went. Perhaps of Akkadian origins, it depicted what seemed to be an anthropomorphic creature, with the head of a woman, and the clawed legs of some kind of raptor - perhaps a vulture. The figure wore a robe, but there was something about it that seemed stiff, thick, not quite... fabric-like. There was what seemed to be a headdress, though the sculptor hadn't been particularly detailed, and it might have also been a pair of wings. While the position of the wings was strange, it was not unknown for the Akkadians to present Ishtar as a winged creature. For that reason alone, and the fact that the figure seemed evidently female, and that it had been dated to the Akkadian period, many scholars believed this to be a statue of Ishtar.

He wasn't so certain. Something about this statue was... off. He ran his fingers over its stone surface, taking note of every single ridge, bump, indent, and abnormality. In fact, the whole thing was rather a strange abnormality, when taking into consideration contemporary pieces of art which held a realism to them that this could not begin to replicate. 

Certainly, it was an unsettling piece, with its sunken eyes, staring darkly out at him, and its life-sized proportions, but so were many depictions of Ishtar. It was entirely possible that this was a nuanced and unique representation, but he simply couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else to it. 

The carriers had helped him move the statue, such that it lay upon a table, tilted slightly onto one side, so that he could investigate and study it more thoroughly. Were it not for them, the small, peculiar, circular figure at the bottom of the pedestal upon which the statue's clawed feet were clenched might have gone completely unnoticed.  

It was perhaps five inches in diameter, and seemed to jut out ever so slightly from the rest of the statue's base. The circular piece depicted a nine-pointed star with a circle around it. At first glance, he almost conceded. Clearly, if the very symbol of Ishtar was engraved in the bottom of the statue, his previous suppositions of false identity were wrong. But Ishtar's symbol was an eight-pointed star, not a nine-pointed star, and he generally speaking, people didn't make such mistakes when it came to these things. 

What did a nine-pointed star symbolize? He wracked his mind, but found nothing. Deep in thought, he reached out and traced the edges of the stone seal with his fingers. As he did, he felt it give slightly. To his astonishment, the seal turned in its place. Fascinated, he turned it little by little until he felt a significant cluck, and out the seal came, a cylindrical thing of perhaps seven inches in height. 

For a moment, it was all he could do to stare blankly at the stone cylinder in his hand, and stare again at the gaping hole where it had been hidden. A chill rushed up and down his spine, and he shook himself slightly, trying to regain his composure. This was new. This was a new discovery - nobody else knew of this, or it would have been in the notes! 

He glanced around, half-expecting his supervisor to step into the room and take the star seal from him, but of course that was nonsense. He was working late - that was the deal. If he wanted to do any research of his own, he'd have to stay after hours and do it. But, during work hours, all he worked on was his supervisor's research, his papers, even his darned blog posts. Any discoveries made during that time were his supervisor's discoveries, and any mention of his hard work or contributions almost never happened.  

He was thankful, of course, to have even that opportunity. It was like the old man to deny him all chances completely, but he'd been in a rather good mood of late, due to a terrible book of his getting a feature in some magazine or other, and of course he'd taken advantage of the situation immediately. 

So, this was his time. And this was his discovery - he was going to make sure of it. Nobody was going to take this away from him.

#writeblr #writing #amwriting #horror #the star seal #my wips

[elejah-wonderland]

_a fanfic snippet

*

"Hey" Elena said.

"Hello" Elijah muttered approaching the brunette.

"I got held up with the cookie baking for the kids in the hospital." Elena said.

"You're doing all these wonderful things - and I -well- kept to myself the last few days."

"I need to - kinda have some normality. So volunteering in the hospital makes it easier not to think about Bonnie and the others trying to figure things out- and we can't help them."

"Yes - we can only "sit and wait" Elijah muttered.

"Yeah - uhm - do you want to go- for a drink? Or - don't know" Elena gestured towards the Grill. She smiled, inhaling inwardly.

All the lights are comin' on now

How I wish that it would snow now

I don't feel like going home now

I wish that I could stay

Elijah nodded. And instead of going to the Grill, they walked to the Christmas Market, ending up back at the house in a little while.

"Bourbon or - Cognac? You seem to prefer that." Elena looked at the bottles in the cabinet.

"Yes." Elijah undid his coat, folding it neatly, resting it on the armchair.

Elena poured them both the golden fiery drink.

"France is your all time favourite country?" Elena felt a chit chat suddenly would help her with the nervousness that she tried so desperately to shake off.

"One of them. I love Italy, too." Elijah replied.

"You went to Paris, I hear." Elijah said having overheard a few days back Elena and Caroline talking about their trips.

"Yeah. The three of us finally got away for a holiday. It was great. I loved it."

"I prefer southern France. The Provance." Elijah replied.

"How about Italy?"

"Every region has its gems. I love the Renaissance cities."

"I guess you spent some time there." Elena stated.

"I did. The arts flourished during this period. The concept of humanism is what attracted me mainly. I do not wish to bore you." Elijah put the glass aside on the little table next to the sofa.

"You don't bore me. You can never do that. You've actually - intrigued me." Elena admitted.

Elijah turned to her phased by the declaration. He looked at her with soft inqusitive eyes.

"Yeah - we played one another - I daggered you and -"

"Undaggered me" Elijah interjected.

"I did." Elena said faintly, gulping a little.

Elijah drew a deep breath and turned to her.

"I have often thought about you - and your very clever negotiating skills. But mostly - that you showed courage - you showed me then - and even now how wonderful it is to be human."

Elena's eyes watered a little. She wanted to speak, but he stopped her.

"Please - the last few days - so much has come into perspective. Now, for the first time in my life... It is as if my soul sits on soft grass upon a gentle hill. It was always the simplest thing with you. Your warm brown eyes. Your humanity. I've wanted someone like you forever. Elena...it's simply that they weren't able to, as if my soul was in a different room and there was no key. But I believe that you had it though. You had it as if God put it in your pocket with a whisper and a four leaf clover. In a way, when I met you I was stunned. My soul had been alone so long it was almost unsettling to suddenly have company. To find or seek another would be condemning myself to a lifetime in darkness, knowing full well what I hid from myself before.

I behaved so silly. It's all so frustrating. It's all so painful. Because -I didn't allow myself to be worthy of you."

Elena narrowed the gap between them.

Warmth blossomed in her, sparks igniting as Elijah leaned in closer. The smell of her perfume, of the soft, floral scent of her conditioner, was dizzying.

Butterflies danced in her stomach as their lips met, hesitant at first, tentative. He slid his hands up her back. She felt the warmth of him against her body, solid beneath the expensive Italian suit. A muffled moan escaped her lips,melting into him as he deepened the kiss.

#elejah #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #alternative universe #tvd imagines #christmas fanfic #elena and elijah