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harryspet · 4 years

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A Wife’s Duty [3] h.s.

[Warnings] harry styles x named oc, light bondage, dubcon oral sex, offensive religious stuff, angst, normal toxic harry, mentions of pregnancy

In which Archibald Styles confront Harry and turns his world upside down. In which Ember wants to be happy.

[A/N] This is part 3 of this series so check out the first two if you haven’t. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and now I’m excited to make a few more parts to this series!

Please like, reblog and let me know what you think!

Word Count: 2.1k

She tried to turn her body but that only resulted in a hard slap on her bottom. She winced, going back to press her face into the comforter. It had been a few days of that, the conditioning. The spanks when she didn’t listen and the endless orgasms when she behaved the way he wanted.

A pair of leather cuffs were wrapped around her wrist and pinned her hands behind her back. She was completely naked, of course, though he still had on his pants. He rested his belt right beside her face as a warning.

His tie was gagging her and keeping her from verbally protesting. And it muffled her moans as his fingers traced circles on the folds of her sex. If she was good, he’d let her finish. If you would’ve told her a week ago that she’d be craving this, she’d say you were mad. He had turned her into a deviant.

He stopped when she started to move her hips against him and she whimpered. She could practically hear him smirking, “You’re more fun than I thought you’d be, little one,” He started again, slipping two fingers inside of her now. It still hurt a little bit but she adjusted much easier now.

She found herself enjoying the slow in and out motion and he’d tease her over and over by stopping. Her face was bright red every time, embarrassed that she let these feelings consume her. Then suddenly one of his hands clamped down on her wrist and the other began moving fast in and out of her.

It was so much, she felt as if she might pee and that scared her. She started to thrash beneath him but he didn’t relent. She came hard on his fingers, shaking as the wave of pleasure went through her, “Very messy, Ember,” He spoke, admiring his work.

And then he had her on her knees, forcing her to clean up her remnants after he removed the gag. He began to undo the buttons on his trousers as he watched the innocent girl sat before him, “When is the last time you prayed, Ember?”

She tried to remember, it had to be over a week ago. Gosh, this house was really messing with her, “Not in a while, Commander,” She said, the taste of the gag still lingering in her mouth, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing too,” He spoke as he unzipped his slacks and reached to pull out his length. He began stroking it himself before pressing it against her cheek. She closed her eyes, the blush rising to her face, “You probably haven’t even thanked him for bringing you to me. For blessing you with such a good husband . . . so well endowed.”

She knew he must love the way it sounded when he heard himself talk.

He pressed his tip against her lips, “Why don’t you say your prayer now?”

She opened her eyes, looking up to see him waiting expectantly. She mentally cursed. And she had never cursed before in her entire life, “I don’t think-”

“Say your prayer.”

He was still pressed against her lips as she began to say a prayer, “Lord, thank you for your mercy and grace. Thank you for bringing me such a good husband. I am so grateful because he is so … well endowed. I love you and I give you praise and thanks. Amen.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

“Amen,” Harry agreed, a smirk on his face, and he entered his wife’s mouth and thanked God for blessing him as well.

After their exciting escapades in the master bedroom, Harry suggested they both take a bath together. Though she was pressed against Harry’s front, she enjoyed the warmth and the idea of being clean. Deep down, she knew she would never be truly clean again.

He massaged shampoo into her scalp and, for a moment, she thought he was gentle. He flipped his switch so quickly. Only moments ago was he forcing his cock down her throat and forcing her to gag on it.

She relaxed into his touch, playing in the bubbles, but he didn’t warn her when there was suddenly water dumped over her head. She looked back at him with an incredulous look, “My turn now,” He turned her body around so she was facing him. Of course, he was only being gentle so he could get the same treatment.

She took the shampoo and began to lather it into his brown, curly locks, “You have nice hair,” She said, mindlessly, liking the texture of her.

He looked up for a brief moment, an unsure look on his face, “A compliment?”

“You probably aren’t used to that,” She spoke snarkily and she expected some retaliation but he was quiet. When she was done, she used the pitcher on the side of the tub to pour the water over his soapy hair, “There, done.”

She moved to turn back around and he let her. She heard him lean back so he could, seemingly, relax. She couldn’t believe she was doing something like this. She almost felt uncomfortable being naked with him.

Despite all that, there was an interruption. A loud knock on the bathroom door, “Commander Styles?”

“Imogene, what is it? Can’t you tell I’m occupied?” Harry asked, annoyed as ever.

“It’s your uncle, Harry! Alec said he saw his car coming down the road!” Harry immediately sat up and soon he was standing in the bath.

“Get up, get up,” Harry rushed out to her, the urgency in his term made it seem like their deaths were impending, “Up, Ember!” She stood up in the bath, water, and bubbles dripping off her. He was already out of the tub and throwing a towel at her.

“Imogene, give us some time! Distract him!” Harry was ruffling his hair with the towel. Ember had climbed out, careful not to slip as she began drying herself too, “Hurry, you need to get dressed. Put on something nice.”

“Why are we panicking over your uncle?” Harry’s eyes seemed to darken.

“Just do as I say.”

And normal Harry was back.

Archibald Styles had the same striking green eyes that Harry had thought his seemed to be graying with his old age. He looked intimidating but not as scary as everyone was acting. She was lined up beside Imogene, Alec and the other servant girl with the missing eye.

They were to keep their heads down until they were addressed but Ember had snuck a peek at him. She was still more frightened of Harry.

The dress she wore was seafoam green, long-sleeved, and reached down to her ankles. A stark contrast to her nudeness and leather shackles. Her wet hair was slicked back into a tight bun and everyone had hoped that Archibald didn’t notice.

“Don’t let your wife stand with the help, Harry, tell her to come over,” He spoke as if she wasn’t standing right there.

Harry didn’t even turn to look at Ember, “Please come sit with us, Ember,” As she lifted her head, it seemed the two men were having a staring contest. She took careful steps to the leather couches they were sitting on. She stood beside Harry until he nodded, allowing her to sit beside him.

Ember folded her hands in her lap, a weary smile on her face, as she looked from Harry to Archibald, “He was never a very affectionate child, don’t worry,” Archibald said to her and Harry seemed to cringe, “It’s lovely to meet you. Ember, is it? You’ll be a spark in my nephew's life, won’t you?”

“I-I will certainly try,” She nodded, “I’m very happy to meet you, Commander Styles. Your gift ... she’s just wonderful.”

The man clapped in excitement and, although it caught her off guard, Ember couldn’t help but smile wider, “Ha! I knew it would be the perfect gift. I hadn’t even met you yet but I knew you’d be a free spirit just like me,” Archibald chuckled, “Besides that, I knew you’d have a hard time adjusting here, it would give you a chance to get away from him. Harry is not like us open-minded folk-”

“Is there a point to you stopping by, Commander, I have to ask,” Harry had successfully sucked all the air out of the room.

Again, the staring contest continued, “I’ve come to personally invite you and your wife to the Autumn Ball. I know in the past few years my invitation has gotten lost in the mail, Commander,” So Harry was doing all this because he didn’t want to go to a Ball? Actually thinking about it, the idea of nice dresses, alcohol, and dancing seemed like a great distraction from her life.

“We thank you very much but-”

“Will there be music?” Harry’s head snapped towards her and her smile fell quickly, “I apologize.”

“We can’t accept your-”

Archibald interrupted Harry, “There will be lots of music, angel,” Archibald gave her a soft grin, “Do you like to dance?” She enjoyed it, knowing Harry’s bubble was bursting.

Ember nodded hesitantly and Archibald continued, “I could have my wife pick out a new dress for you. I’m sure Harry wouldn’t think about buying you something-”

“I can buy my own wife a dress, Commander,” Harry was seething, she could tell.

“Then it’s settled,” Archibald Styles rose from his chair and Imogene ran over to help the man redress in his suit coat, “I will see the both of you in two months at the Autumn Ball. I hope you’ll save a dance for me, Mrs. Harry Styles.”

Ember was beaming, “Of course, Commander Styles.” Music and dancing sounded like heaven.

Harry didn’t escort his uncle out the door. Harry stared at the wall across from him for a good five minutes after Archibald left. When Imogene returned to the room with Archibald, he finally moved.

“Wow,” Alec released a breath of air, “Well, at least he likes her.”

Harry shot him a sharp glance and Alec quieted. Harry’s gaze moved to her next. His arms were crossed and it was clear the gears in his mind were turning.

Had she screwed up royally this time?

“She’ll have to convince them,” Harry spoke finally.

“Convince them?” Ember looked around the room at everyone’s faces for answers.

“That Harry has a heart,” Alec chuckled but Harry didn’t seem to deny it, “And that he hasn’t somehow killed his wife already.”

“We’ll show them a happy and healthy wife then,” Harry gestured to her, some hope finally in his eyes, “And perhaps we’ll have a baby bump to show off by then too.”

Ember gulped, eyes wide.

“Harry,” Alec opened his mouth to say something but Harry simply raised a hand to silence them. He walked around his desk and slouched down.

“Get out, all of you.”

That night, Harry didn’t come out of his office. Not even to finish what he was surely going to start in that bath. She ate dinner with Imogene and Alec who were good company. They actually engaged in conversation unlike Harry.

Although Imogene advised against it, Alec and Ember snuck out to see Blue. The filly was already bigger and was starting to even recognize Ember. She petted her with ease and even let her help feed her.

“I thought it would take much longer to tame her,” Alec thought out loud.

“Well, you’re gentle with her so of course,, she’s more . . . receptive. She doesn’t need some man bossing her around, right Blue?” Ember spoke as if the horse understood her. She liked to think the Blue did.

“Right,” Alec agreed.

“Do you wish to get married one day, Alec?”

The boy shrugged, “Maybe. But I quite enjoy living here and, before I get married, I’m sure my father will ship me off to some boot camp.”

“Oh.”

Although the silence between them was long, it didn’t feel lonely. They seemed to communicate with each other through Blue.

She didn’t expect Alec to cut through the silence with a question, “Do you want to have children, Ember? When you’re so young?”

“Why not?” Ember asked, sounding accusatory, “And I’m not so young.”

“I just meant-”

“It doesn’t matter what I want, Alec. If Harry wishes it, if God wishes it, then it shall be,” She spoke in a whisper, “Don’t fool yourself into wishing for something different.”

She regretted being so harsh but she did not wish to give him any false hope. She did not wish to give herself any either. She could be happy here as things were. She could be happy.

Hope you enjoyed this! If you want more Harry fics then check out Guarding Genevieve on my #masterlist ! My request are OPEN

Also, please leave a comment or send an ask if you’d like to be added to a taglist!

#dark fic #dark harry #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #fanfiction #one direction #harry oneshot #one direction fanfiction #one direction smut #dirty harry #au #series #handmaids tale au #the handmaid's tale

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wide-eyedscottishlass · 3 years

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Scarlett and the Professor

moodboard by @strangelock221b

[continued from]

Following her watery lesson in the bathtub—in which her insatiable lover had proven his endurance matched perfectly with his dedication to their mutual pleasure—the rest of the afternoon passed in a haze of quiet happiness for Scarlett. Once dried and dressed, he had headed back to his study to grade the last of his papers, having instructed her to get herself dressed and promising he would come back to collect her in no longer than twenty minutes. “I think a tour of the manse is in order once I return,” he’d promised, pressing a few lighthearted kisses to the back of her neck as she stood before the bathroom mirror, towel-clad and about to brush out her hair. “And then perhaps we’ll take a little drive to see what other adventures we can get up to.”

And as good as his word, Hennessy had squired her about his home both inside and out, quietly delighting Scarlett with his apparent need to maintain at least some small physical contact with her most of the time. Splaying one hand on the small of her back or draping an arm across her shoulders, and even stealing occasional kisses from her when she least expected it. How heavenly it felt to know by these simple gestures how thoroughly he now considered her to be his own! His surprisingly tender affections proved distracting enough that if asked, Scarlett would not have been rightly able to answer questions about the layout of his home.

Beneath a cloudless, cerulean sky, they strolled through the wild-grown garden that bordered the pool and jacuzzi behind Hennessy’s house. A riot of indigenous plants and flowers grew thick around them; despite her several months on the island, they still struck Scarlett as breathtakingly exotic. Bougainville and anthurium flourished unchecked, along with several species of lily, banana flowers, and hibiscus; the vibrant reds and pinks, golds and oranges, vied for dominance amidst the deep green of the leaves and vines, with splashes of light and dark blues throughout. The center of the garden held an old, marble bench beside a small ornamental pool filled with lotus blossoms. Beyond this private little piece of Eden lay a wide, grassy slope that ended at a hedgerow which ran the length of the property. But for all its tranquil charm, it was clear from his commentary that Hennessy preferred the shingle of white sand beach which she had viewed from his balcony. Scarlett hoped that in time he’d take her there as well.

“Feeling peckish yet?” They were sitting beneath the umbrella of a wrought iron table on the patio near the pool. “I’m famished…how about we grab a bite to eat?”

“I’d like that,” she agreed, game for whatever he had in mind. Hennessy held out his hand to her as she stood up and whisked her along with him to his garage. He continued to play the gentleman, seating her in his sleek, midnight blue convertible and advising her well. “Buckle up, little lamb—I’m feeling the need for speed,” he grinned, slamming shut her door and then taking his place behind the wheel.

Scarlett was shocked to discover that despite being a man who held nearly absolute and steadfast control over every aspect of his life (that she’d observed thus far, anyway), Hennessy drove like a maniac. Though he must’ve known well the curves and dips and swells of the two-lane road from his home and beyond, he took them with an incautious speed and virtual abandon that were quite harrowing. She did her best to keep her eyes set on the road in front of them, making involuntary sounds of distress at his most egregious transgressions, and feeling him sneak peeks her way while chortling at her obvious distress. “Almost there, m’dear,” he laughed as the tires squealed through yet another reckless curve and played havoc with her loose, fishtail braid—so that once they’d reached the little roadside, seafood shack that was their destination, Scarlett had to loose it from it’s binding and run her shaky hands through her hair to set it right.

Once her nerves and stomach had settled, she discovered she was hungry enough to put that harrowing experience behind her–for the time being–and indulge in the bounty which Hennessy has ordered for them, and then laid out on one of the weathered picnic tables behind the small, brightly shingled building. “The best and freshest catches on the island,” he bragged, “Prepared with all the culinary magic only a native chef could provide!” Scarlett found greater pleasure than she might ever have imagined in watching him indulge his ravenous appetite. They feasted upon cornmeal battered shrimp, a crab and curry stew, conch fritters served with a spicy brown rice, pickled mackerel in a thick coconut milk sauce beside fried plantains. At Hennessy’s insistence, she even tried the Bake and Shark with Citrus Chutney, surprising herself that she actually enjoyed it. He was larger than life in everything he did, and she felt a swell of simple affection for him fill her heart, and unabashed gratitude that she was along for this glorious, albeit unpredictable, ride with him.

Afterwards, he surprised her yet again, offering to drive to her flat so she could grab a bathing suit and another change of clothes—indicating that he expected her to stay with him a second night. Even another nerve-wracking drive back to his estate couldn’t dampen her joy at that.

____________________________________________________

The sun glinted off the ripples and waves lapping at the warm, white sand of Hennessy’s beach as he spread out a thick blanket for them to recline upon. Curious gulls flew low, checking for food scraps that so often accompanied the presence of humans in their domain. Scarlett stood where the water just kissed her toes, breathing deep the salty tang of the Atlantic, a scent that often awoke a quiet longing in her heart for home---though she wouldn’t dream of being anywhere in the world right now but at her lover’s side.

A sudden updraft swept through her hair, and the squawks of protest from the sea gulls caught in the rising air current drew her attention away from the ocean and back behind her. Hennessy had one arm crooked and was drawing swirls in the air, that same determined focus on his face as when he’d worked that mysterious water magic as she bathed. He’s clearing the birds away, was her immediate thought; he’s literally stirring the air to send them away! How in hell is this possible? Suddenly, the ground beneath her feet didn’t feel as solid as it should.

He flashed her his ever-charming sideways smile, and held out his free arm to her and he lowered the other and the ‘breeze’ died away. “Come sit with me, Scarlett.” Hennessy’s tone of command was undeniable, and her knees went weak with her need to obey. She took his proffered hand and then settled onto the blanket, not allowing the certainty that she wasn’t the first woman to share it with him here, to dull the pleasant anticipation that he would inevitably be taking here soon in whatever way pleased him best.

Hennessy made their small talk easy for a time, skirting the edges of the questions which he had to know were weighing on her mind, while drawing from her the details of what he certainly must think of as her quaint, little life. He lay on his side, propped up on one elbow while Scarlett sat cross-legged and continued to watch the waves lap at the warm sand. As relaxed as she was feeling, she could also feel him watching her as though everything she told him was of great interest---and as if he was in no rush to pursue his pleasure just yet.

The blazing orange disk of the sun had sunk lower on the horizon by the time that conversation lapsed, and he finally saw fit to broach the topic that remained foremost in her thoughts. “You’re quite a patient woman, Scarlett. Especially for one so green.” The husk of his voice was as soothing as the rhythm of the waves, and drew her eyes his way. “I’m impressed. You’ve held your tongue all these hours about something I know you must be bursting to ask about.”

Scarlett shrugged and gave a wee smile. “My Mam always taught me that patience was a virtue—but before he lit out into the wider world to make his fortune, my Da taught me a simpler wisdom…”

“Which was?”

“That I should take a lesson from the Sea, whose patience endures forever. And who always gets want she wants, in the end.”

“Hmmm…wise man, your Da,” Hennessy reflected, “Though he’d have done better by you not to father you in absentia.”

“I suppose so,” she sighed, resolving to keep that quiet pain from tainting this precious time with her teacher, “Though it’s all water under the bridge now, isn’t it?”

He smiled at her winningly, “You have an apt way of looking at things, m’dear.” He took to his feet as he told her, “And your patience has earned you the answer to the mystery of the afternoon.” Hennessy held out his hand to help her rise up, guided her forward to stand with her toes tucked just beneath the edge of the water again, and then stood behind her, “But first a little demonstration more.”

The sun had dipped almost completely beneath the waves; the air was warm and soft, rife with the night’s possibilities. Scarlet felt, as much as heard, Hennessy draw a deep breath, and in moments saw the seafoam suddenly part around her feet, wetting the sand in a widening circle that left her skin untouched. The circle soon grew to encompass them both, closing behind him.

Scarlett licked her lips, barely able to speak. “It’s real…it really happened. Part of me kept insisting that I dreamed the whole thing, but…but it’s real…”

Hennessy stepped into her and spoke against he ear, making her shiver with his truth, “Very, very real, my sweet. As real as the Sun at it’s zenith. As real as the pull of the Moon upon the tides.”

Though her mouth had gone dry, Scarlett remained undaunted in her need for the full truth. She turned to face him, clear-eyed and ready for whatever he might reveal. “Then how, my jo…tell me how it’s even possible. Please.”

“Oh my dear,” he tutted, “My sweet, innocent girl. Hennessy’s eyes gleamed softly in the dying light. “There is so very much you have left to learn.”

(to be continued)

tagging: @strangelock221b @ravencatart @doctor-stephenstrange @splunge4me2art @ben-locked @ben-c-group-therapy @letterstosherlock @humanbornarchangel @aeterna-auroral-avenger @frowerssx-world @tsukuyomi011 @emilyinnj4real @losille2000 @macgyvershe (as I have a hunch this is just up your alley!)

#my writing #Scarlett and the Professor #romance #magic #Scarlett Campbell.#OFC #OMC #not my OMC and used with permission #Scarlett's Professor #Professor Hennessy #Hennessy

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primitivejunketer · 3 years

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Mirage- A My Hero Academia Fan Fiction

Chapter 1- Afraid

Fic Summary- Misumi wanted nothing more than to be a hero. She was an amazingly promising student and was soaring far above anyone else at her age. Then, an accident happens and Misumi loses control of her quirk, resulting in her mother’s death. Follow Misumi and her story to see what dark paths she is led down.

Chapter Summary- We dive into Misumi’s mind, facing her greatest demons.

Word Count- 2,104

Rating- T or R

Warnings- This fic has MANY accounts of a psych ward, talk of schizophrenia and other mental illnesses. There are a few scenes with blood, and many accounts of death. Please read at your own discretion.

Note from the Author- Hello everyone! I am very excited about this fic and to share it with you all. There are some graphic scenes in this chapter, and there will be more in chapters to come. If I have in any way offended any readers or wrongly portrayed any illnesses in this fic, feel free to let me know and I will try my best to correct my errors. Enjoy!

Listen while you read

“Misumi,” I was startled from my trance by a voice, “you have a visitor.”

I turned around in my cell and was met by an orderly named Kai. Dressed in all white as usual.

“You’d make a beautiful bride.” I smiled, leaning in close to his face while he undid the straight jacket I was wrapped in.

He ignored anything I said. They always do.

As we traveled down the long, ominous hallway, I looked to my right and left. Every room had a window of mirrored glass. This was the first time I’ve seen my reflection in days. I was almost unrecognizable to myself.

My seafoam green hair was tangled in knots on the back of my head. My bangs were greasy from sweating and the lack of showers that they allow me to take.

I looked paler than normal. The blush glow that normally filled my cheeks was gone. My gray eyes looked lost, like a puppy at the pound.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to unfurrow the permanent scowl etched into my dark, thick eyebrows.

I looked back down at my hands as we walked. They were in shackles that covered my entire hand. I couldn’t even wiggle my fingers.

I looked up at Kai and decided to make this interesting.

My quirk is visual manipulation. Basically, I can make anyone see what I want them to see. It can range from something as small as a fly, to their entire surroundings. I can use people’s thoughts to create mirages for them. I can use their fears, memories, anything. I had so much potential before this.

I let out a small giggle.

“What?” Kai spat, rudely.

“You think binding my hands will save you. I don’t need them to use my quirk.” As I spoke, I used my quirk to morph my face into looking like a snake. My eyes turned green with reptilian slits, I unhinged my jaw, showing him rows of sharp teeth and a long split tongue.

Before I could realize, he took the taser from his belt and pressed it firmly to my chest, causing me to collapse on the ground below.

I twitched as I lied on the ground, “fuck you.” I managed to get out, while he pulled me back up to my feet.

“You know the rules, Misumi.”

We continued down the hall. Kai left a forceful guiding hand on my shoulder as he took me to the visitors room.

We entered, and then I saw him. My father.

“No.” I spat.

He stood, “Misumi, please.”

“No!” I raised my voice this time. My heart began pounding in my chest.

“I just want to talk, Misumi.” He pleaded.

My whole body was shaking. I could feel the heat of my blood boiling inside me.

“NO!” I screamed. I pulled away from Kai who just held me tighter. “GET OUT!” I shouted at him. I writhed in Kai’s arms.

My heart rate continued to increase. I felt like there was a fire within me.

“Misumi. It’s your fault”

“You did this Misumi”

“Everyone hates you”

“You’re a villain”

“Please! No! Stop!” I screamed. The voices grew louder with each second.

I screamed and cried as I fought to free myself from Kai when I felt a sharp pain in my neck and everything went black.

I awoke in the white room. Padded walls and no windows. I was restrained in a straight jacket.

I sat entirely still. Staring at the wall in front of me. I played the scene over and over again in my head. A single tear streamed down my cheek and fell onto the floor below. I started down at the wet spot.

“Do you blame yourself?” A gravelly, distorted voice spoke. Unlike any I’ve heard before.

“What?” I replied.

“Well it’s quite common in this situation for a patient to feel a kind of guilt.”

“What situation?” I asked, looking around.

Suddenly, I saw myself. But it didn’t look like me. The vision of myself had solid black eyes. A cloud of black smoke flowed around her, accompanied by a faint glow, the same shade of seafoam green as my hair. There was blood on her clothes. She floated in the air above me before falling to the ground. Sitting on the floor inches away.

“The accident.” She said, lifting her hand to show me a bloody palm. She touched it to my cheek and I could feel the wet warmth.

I was looking down, I could feel hot tears streaming down my face.

She grabbed my chin and turned my head up to face her. The vision had changed and I was met with my worst nightmare.

Before me was my mother. Her skin, pale and lifeless. Her eyes were glossed over, a milky white. Her lips, blue and dry. She had dark lacerations on her neck and arms.

Did I do that?

“Mom,” I cried, “I’m so sorry!” I sobbed, trying to lean towards her.

Then she disappeared.

I fell face first into the soft padded ground and stayed there. I tried catching my breath but I couldn’t calm myself. With every second the room began to shrink. I felt the straight jacket tighten around me. The burning in my chest was inconsolable. It felt like my heart was being ripped out.

I tried to let out a scream but it came as more of a whimper.

I continued to lay with my face on the floor. I don’t know for how long. My cheek rested in a pool of snot and tears and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop crying.

After what felt like days, I heard the door unlock.

I lifelessly turned my head towards the door, not getting up from the ground.

“Hello, Misumi.” I looked up at the man standing before me. He was short and round. He had black hair that was neatly combed to the side. He wore a gray pint striped suit and thin, wire framed glasses.

Kai entered the room from behind the other man and lifted me off the ground.

“My name is Doctor Nakamura. You may call me Dr. N, if that’s easier for you.” He had a jaunty tone to his voice and spoke with a smile.

“You’re a bit peachy for a psych ward doctor.” I deadpanned as Kai unbuckled me from the jacket.

“I’m not just any Doctor,” he began, as we started down the hall, “you are a very, um… specific case, Misumi.”

“How’s that?” I asked sarcastically.

He turned to look at me. His eye shot a glaring look as they met mine. I don’t trust him.

He continued to talk about his practice and his previous patients. I was bored.

We walked to a room that I had never been in before. In the center of the room was a tub with a lid on it.

“What’s this?” I asked, motioning towards the tub with my bound hands.

“This is your new treatment, Misumi.” Doctor Nakamura replied, “We must purge your mind and body of these unwanted villainous urges.”

“What do you mean?” I asked cautiously.

“We will begin with a series of tests. This will take days, possibly weeks,” He explained, “Once I discover which method is most affective for treating your villainous urges, we will use that most until we get some real results.” He spoke proudly, like he was excited to torture me.

Kai freed my hands.

“Please remove your clothing and step into the ice bath, Misumi.” Dr. Nakamura smiled widely.

I began to strip, eyeing both Kai and the doctor.

I stepped into the ice bath and winced at the feeling. It felt like thousands of pins and needles pricked my legs, they quickly went numb.

“You will be submerged, and then lifted from the water. Do not worry, this is very safe.” The doctor placed a hand on my shoulder, pushing me to lay in the tub.

I glanced at Kai, shooting him a worried look. He didn’t have his typical scowl etched onto his face. He looked concerned.

I shuddered as I sank into the tub, “You’ll kill me,” I breathily whispered.

“Just think, Misumi, it was this or Tartarus.” The doctor smiled at me once more before placing a weight on my stomach and pushing my head underwater.

The water immediately plunged into my nose. The chill of the ice surrounding my body burned like fire. The pain was unbearable. I fought my hardest to avoid the impulse of gasping for air. My head felt like it was going to explode. I could see the blur of Doctor Nakamura standing above me.

My body writhed beneath the weight, trying anything to relive the pain and engulf a breath of air. My vision blurred further. I could feel my mouth open, gasping for air. Then everything went black.

“Misumi,” I heard my mother’s voice, “come to me.”

“Mom?” I whimpered, “Where are you? I can’t see.”

“I don’t have much time, dear.” I could feel her warm hands cupping my cheeks.

“Mom, what’s happening?” I cried, nuzzling my face into her hand.

“You aren’t ready yet.”

“What do you mean?! What’s happening?! MOM!” I began to shout, flailing my arms around. I couldn’t feel anything. It’s like I was floating in space.

“I’m not mad at you, okay.” I felt an embrace. I tried to wrap my arms around her, but couldn’t.

“Mama, I’m so sorry.” I sobbed. I could feel her holding me, her head resting on my shoulder. I could smell her hair, her cherry blossom scented shampoo.

“Be strong, my darling.” She kissed my forehead.

I gasped for air, coughing up water.

Dr. Nakamura was standing over me, a crooked smile on his face. Kai was right behind him with a towel in his hand. He promptly put it over me.

They had removed my body from the tub and laid me on the floor before I woke up. I assume the doctor did CPR.

I continued trying to catch my breath, still coughing water.

“I could have died.” I cried.

“You did,” the doctor replied, “luckily for you, though, my quirk is revivement. I am going to kill you as many times necessary to purge you of your evil impulses.”

I stared at him in shock. I looked at Kai, who was standing behind him. His face was white, and his mouth hung open.

“Kai. Take her to her new room. We have no need for the white room anymore, she’ll be much too exhausted to need it. We will continue treatment tomorrow. Goodnight Misumi.” He smiled once more, nodding his head.

Kai helped me up and led me to a new room. We were silent the entire way there.

The room he took me to was small, it had a single bed and night table. The window was fogged glass and had bars covering it.

“Home, sweet, home.” Kai joked, handing me my clothes.

I shot a burning glare at him.

He left, locking the door behind him and I began to get dressed.

The gray sweat pants and long sleeve shirt I wore were itchy. I could feel the material rub against my skin. The feeling of the ice left me still numb. I was beginning to feel numb on the inside, too.

The small mattress creaked as I climbed into bed. I leaned my head against the wall and started straight. My wet hair clung to my cheek as I pressed my face closer to the navy blue cinder block wall.

I started to sing softly to myself,

“Mori mo iyagaru, Bon kara saki-nya

Yuki mo chiratsuku-shi, Ko mo naku-shi

Bon ga kita-tote, Nani ureshi-karo

Katabira wa nashi, obi wa nashi.”

I was interrupted by a voice at the door, “My mom used to sing that to me all the time when I was little.” Kai spoke to me through the slit in my door.

“Mine, too.” I spoke softly, almost whispering.

“Why did you do it then?” He asked.

The question panged in my chest like a knife. I didn’t know whether to feel sadness or anger.

“More like why didn’t anyone stop me?” I replied sharply.

He sat in silence for a moment.

“Goodnight, Misumi.” He closed the slit before allowing me to reply.

I sunk into the bed, covering my head with the blanket, and continued to sing.

“Kono ko you naku, Mori wo ba ijiru

Mori mo ichi-nichi, Yaseru-yara

Hayo-mo yuki-taya, Kono zaisho koete

Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi

Mukou ni mieru wa, Oya no uchi.”

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gritsandbrits · 5 years

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Noelani Bio (SA1)

Age: 16

Alignment: Hero

Birthplace: Station Square

Nicknames: Lani, Noni (by her mother and Erin)

Physical Description: A shorter than average human female with dark brown skin and hazelnut colored eyes, and wavy black hair. She has a slightly realistic proportion compared to the rest of the characters. Her height is a mere 4'1 while her weight is unknown.

Attire: Lani wears a white t-shirt with an aqua wave pattern (covering her bathing suit), seafoam-green swim shorts, and white and navy sandals. Her accessories includes a pair of wristbands and a scrunchie. Her other outfit is an emerald green coat, jeans, and boots that she wears during her stage in Ice Cap.

Personality: Noelani is mainly a savvy girl who often remarks at the strange events that have been occuring in town lately. She mostly keeps to herself, only really interacting with customers that frequent the diner she works at. An avid reader, Lani develops a skill for reading between the lines and became somewhat of an amateur sleuth, actively finding ways to discover the true secrets of Chaos. Due to her lack of any real fighting skills, she keeps herself out of a battle but slowly becomes more adjusted to defending herself when she ends up going it solo.

Likes: Onion rings, reading, windsurfing, swimming, photography, the xylophone, and gambling cuz a poor girl's gotta eat.

Dislikes: Her job, feeling like a burden, fire, pretentiousness, the smell of perfume, and dark, enclosed places.

Family: Noelani is the younger cousin and charge of Erin, an accountant who works at a business in Station Square. They get along well together, Lani even deciding to get a job so she can help Erin pay for necessities. Her parents as well as Erin's father were part of an expedition group that disappeared before the events of the game. Later storylines would have Noelani trying to look for them when she goes freelancing.

Friends: Noelani was relatively friendless, though she didn't mind. What she did mind was people bullying her or pressuring her to interact with others. However, after helping Tails recuperate after his plane crashed near her island, he becomes the first person to start an amicable relationship with her. It took her a while to warm up to Sonic, and even longer to warm up to Knuckles. With Amy, they interacted in the Twinkle Park section where Lani admits that she find her crush on Sonic pretty cute. The only other characters she doesn't interact much with is Big and Gamma.

Enemies: Aside from regular bullies, Noelani's main enemies are Dr. Eggman and Chaos. Noelani does not take Eggman lightly and hates him for ruining her tranquil island with his robots, though meeting him face to face the first time has her a bit confused that he looked nothing like the vicious maniac the media often portrayed him as. She is disgusted by the appearance of Chaos but gradually becomes intrigued by the monster and wants to learn more about him, if only to find a credible way to stop him. Once she uncovers the full story she has nothing but pity for him. Not so much for Eggman though.

Upgrades: The Lunar Spear, which increases her physical attack, and the Gravity Soles, which allows her to jump higher and longer.

Stages: Speed Highway, Red Mountain, Ice Cap, Lost World, and Emerald Coast. Her stage is similar to Sonic's with a bigger emphasis on exploration.

Bosses: Chaos 4, The Very Jolly Golly (ice golem, fanmade enemy) E Series Theta (fanmade enemy)

Other

• Noelani speaks with an Jamaican accent

• No she is NOT a Jamaican stereotype

• Her vocal reference is Grace Jones

• Her clothing style is late 90s to better fit the era where the game first came out

• She doesn't have a song as her main theme but her leitmotif is "Cafe Alpha" from Yokohama Kaidashi Kikou (awesome anime series btw)

• Noelani is meant to be my hypothetical "What if Adventure had another playable female character" insert

• Also the reason why she's human is because she grew out of an idea I had for a Sonic X reboot. So essentially she's the Antithesis of Chris Thorndyke

• I don't know whether she and Sonic could be a couple. It all depends and she does not look like Elise that's for sure! However in the case I do, it's not going to be fast. It's going to be very, very slow burn and won't take up the entire series nor warp Sonic's character like Sonally

#sonic adventure oc #noelani sonic #sonic oc #fan character #oc x canon #slow burn #slowburn oc #slowburn oc x canon #woc #black female superhero #that's basically what she is a superhero without the buttload of powers #sonic adventure #fanfiction #sonic fanfiction #anti chris thorndyke #anti christopher thorndyke

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slothgiirl · 5 years

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island in the sun (harry styles fanfic)

reader meets harry styles while on summer vacation on a small greek island

Greece was just as magical as you had imagined it to be. It was something straight out of mamma mia with clear blue seas surrounding the small island you were staying on.

You couldn't not go for long swims around the place, your arms and legs burning as you pushed yourself to swim around the island.

There were lots of rocks to rest on near the shoreline. Sometimes you just laid back and floated, sun warming your face.

After only a week here you'd developed a routine; taking a long swim out from the beach by where you were staying at all the way until the rocky out cropping, the docks jutting out into the sea. It was fun the watch tourists and locals alike jump off from the end of the dock.

And it wasn't too long of a swim. It was welcome after being landlocked for the past year.

After you go get fresh orange juice and some bread as you make your way back to where you're calling home for now. It was a nice change of pace, these lazy days.

Your route often took you by one of those houses on the island with its own private beach, the kind that were probably worth millions even on this lesser known island.

You swam further up just in case it was occupied. It wasn't summer so there shouldn't be many tourists.

But just in case-

A voice calls out, startling you out of the zone you'd been in, feeling perfectly at home in the cool waters. “Are you okay out there!”

You can make out a man on the beach, waving an arm over to you, but you're too far out to make out much more than that.

“I'm fine,” you call back, unsure of what else to say to the stranger. So, you do as the seals do, and take a deep breath before diving under, moving your arms and legs in synch.

Your lungs burn and you push past it, eyes open in the stinging salt water. You eventually have to come back up air, pulling up by a rock outcropping that hides you from view.

It takes you a few seconds to catch your breath, embarrassed to be caught out and embarrassed by your reaction. Your cheeks burn and it has nothing to do with the sun making its way through the sky.

Other than the dark thick hair, and his romanesque nose, Alexander looked nothing like his cousin, one of your best friends and the reason you were getting to stay here at all.

“Another crazy long swim,” he asks, already laughing. All of them made fun of how often and how long you swam for. You couldn't help it. You were a beach bum at heart.

“Yeah,” you offer, abashedly pushing already drying strands of hair behind an ear, “i think the house around the bend is rented. I saw one of the renters.” A one piece came in handy when you had to trek back to your current home through on of the small towns on the island, the main town really.

Shoeless and burning your toes.

“I think my mom said something about that,” he responds with a shrug, following at your heels as you enter your small room and tug on some shorts. “She heard something from Elena at the market.”

“What did you do,” he asks, a hint of amusement in the smile lines around his eyes.

“Swam away,” you answer, feeling embarrassed all over again, “I dove for it.”

He laughs. “Do you want to help me make lunch for our handful of guests?”

You nod, “only because I'm going to steal some food for myself.”

Alexander shakes as you both head to the kitchen. His mother had taken over the small hotel after his grandparents had grown much to old to keep up with it, not that anyone had told them that as Kristos still woke up every morning before the sun had risen to start on breakfast and still insisted on checking the papers every saturday.

“That doesn't count as helping!”

“It does,” you reply sagely, “I have to make sure the food is good after all.”

“You are the one who burned the-”

“It was an accident!”

It takes you two days to get over yourself and swim past the house again, past where the stranger had been.

You had built it all up in your head, going for swims about the shore below from where you were staying, drying up in the sun before braving the steps again. It had been weird and awkward and you hadn't wanted to be seen again.

But you weren't going to let some rich tourist stop you from swimming past their place. It was your morning routine, and you refused to give it up after being landlocked.

The pool was just never the same.

As you came upon it you felt a twinge, unable to keep your eyes off the shore, focus shifting to the stranger.

But the beach was empty.

You let out a sigh of relief and went by.

You help Alexander's grandmother and little sister in the garden, Juliana exclaiming, “no no that's too much water,” and “that's a weed. that's a weed. We eat that!”

Even at twelve she had a much greener thumb you did.

“Bring forth the compost,” she commanded, looking to her grandmother, making sure she was doing everything right.

“Careful not to put too much,” the older woman added, looking over the vegetables and herbs, basket next to her along with what she had harvested.

Their little hotel seemed to exist in its own little bubble. A beautiful one out of a studio ghibli movie, but that didn't stop Juliana’s mother from getting starbucks when she went into town.

And some fresh fries from mcdonald's were nice to eat every now and then.

“I know I know.” She replies, already digging into the compost and gleefully mixing it into the soil.

You wipe away the sweat from your brow, still working on the resistant weeds.

“You need to eat more or all the swimming's gonna make you disappear like seafoam!”

You giggle, “maybe I want to turn into seafoam!”

Juliana grins in response, “we're making pizza for tonight. I'm going to get my very own.”

“No,” her grandmother adds, “you won't even finish it.”

“I will,” she insists, “I promise.”

“or I'll feed you to the sharks,” you add.

Her nose scrunches up, unamused, “you still have more weeds over there.”

“Yes my lady,” you joke as you move to the next patch.

It's another three days before you see the stranger again. Still from far off as you swim past, arms burnings as you do.

He waves to you, waves you over.

Which you assume means you're going to get horribly murdered, body left to wash up on some shore and it'll be on a thousand different true crime shows, maybe someone will think to add in the possibility of aliens.

You swim towards him anyways, curiosity too built up after these last few days. It's easy enough to let the waves pull you to shore. They do all the hard work and you just keep your head above water.

He walks out into the waves to meet you, tall and fit, chest littered in tattoos that range from awful to beautiful swallows on either sides of his chest. With large kind green eyes, it's not hard to place him. You doubt very many people wouldn't recognize him. But you don't want to be rude either so you say nothing, yet.

“Do you live around here,” Harry Styles asks, hand raised over his brow, shading his eyes from the sun.

“Around,” you respond evenly, waving off in the approximate direction, “it's be an awfully long swim otherwise.”

“So you're not secretly a mermaid or something?”

Heat rises to your cheeks, chest warm with pride vying for misplaced embarrassment. “Not unless what my mom said about staying to long in the water was true.”

He smiles, easily, before asking, “and what did she tell you?”

“That I’d turn into a mermaid if I spent too long in the water. I took it as a challenge. Hasn't happened yet though.”

Harry laughs, looking down at you in disbelief twisted with simple joy, his wide smile reaching his eyes. “Well after your done with your swim I don't suppose you like to stop by?”

“Isn't that what I'm doing right now,” you retort, slipping into easy banter, like you've known him all your life, his easy manner contagious and suddenly you understand what charisma means.

“Well then by all means come on in,” he says tilting his head over to the nice house behind, back nestled just a short walk from the sand.

“I've got a swim to finish,” you counter, tilting your nose up in the air, before breaking into a smile, winking as you slip back further out.

He lets you go without another word.

You slap on sunscreen and pull on your bathing suit, already dry thanks to the hot sun.

It's morning and you only bother with a cup of water before making your way down the stone steps that lead down to the water, clear and blue and the perfect depth for a dive.

So you go in head first, coming up for air, getting your bearings before your off.

You hadn't told anyone just who you'd met the day before. It had felt too private. You doubted he'd want it announced, probably wanted a fair bit of privacy coming out all this way just for that very reason instead of heading to santorini.

That and you liked the idea of having him to yourself, warm and fuzzy on the inside as you thought of how he'd smiled at you on the beach.

Your strokes cut through the water easy, tide making the water seem almost still, a gentle lululling in contrast to the crashing waves of the beaches back home, a whole other ocean. The water cool against your skin, sun too low to burn yet.

This time Harry swims out to meet you, brow furrowed in concentration and you smile to yourself as you watch him approach, leaning back and floating, waiting for him out where your toes can't reach the bottom, water clear enough to see below to the rocks and occasional fish that darts by.

“I'm not the strongest swimmer,” he admits when he's within earshot, “but there's just something so relaxing to being in water, especially in a place like this.”

You laugh in agreement, “i know! But then again I'm a complete water baby.”

“Ever been to Hawaii,” he asks following your lead to the rock outcropping. Floating was no way to have a conversation, and finding a perch is easy enough.

“No,” you respond, “I'd love to go though. I've seen so many beautiful photos of the reefs.But for now I'm just lucky enough to spend the summer here.”

“Do you have family here?”

Shaking your head you answer, “nope, staying with a friends family actually. They were nice enough to host me.” You look out to the horizon for a second before settling you gaze on him, day old stubble and sparkling eyes, “How about you?”

“Just working on writing,” he tells me, “feels good to get away sometimes. Have some time by myself and really write not just mess around.”

With a smile you tell Harry, “That's exactly the reason I can never study in my dorm. I will one hundred percent mess around. But if I go somewhere to study I feel forced to actually get something done.”

Harry snorts. “What're you studying?”

“Economics, just no one told me all the math I have to take for it.”

He laughs at me, shaking his head. Before growing serious for a moment, “wait do you,” he trails off looking unsure for once.

“I think my mom would probably know who you are,” you add helpfully, “and she cant even work facebook.”

“Sorry I didn't say anything earlier,” you go on, looking down into the water, the dark blue of the water, the movement, mesmerizing to study. “I wasn't sure if I should or if it would be rude though I bet you always have people coming up to you.”

Harry shrugs, “most people are really nice about the whole thing so it's never a bother. But let me introduce myself,” he says puffing his chest out, back straight and offering his hand to you, “I'm Harry.”

You snort but shake his hand and introduce yourself too. “Nice to meet you Harry.”

“The pleasures all mine.”

“Well,” you say with much reluctance, “i'd better be getting on with my swim if you don't mind?”

“Ah of course who am I to stop such a committed swimmer,” he says arching an eyebrow playfully.

You giggle before pushing off the rock, launching yourself into the water and riding the momentum as far as it'll take you.

You feel warm all over and it has nothing to do with the sun.

“We have a big family coming to stay with us from the mainland,” Juliana tells you, sharing some of her chips with you, “grandma told me to tell you if you could help out with check in in the morning?”

“Aye aye captain,” you tell her, saluting her with a firm hand before grabbing another handful of ketchup chips, the vinegar taste strangely addicting. “Anything else I should know?”

“Only that I'm going to make you carry and the suitcases,” she says blowing a raspberry at you.

“oh I see how it is,” you say, acting mock affronted as you place a hand over your chest, “i thought we were supposed to gang up on your brother?”

She grins mischievously, “only if you'll go out to pick cherries with me?”

“I thought we weren't supposed to?”

“It's not like anyone has to know.” Her smiles wides, all teeth and you break into laughter.

“Okay okay,” you respond, licking your fingers for good measure, getting all the flavor and crumbs off, “deal.”

After going three days without a swim, your muscles ache in relief as you finally get to put them to good use, long powerful strides that have you gliding through the water.

It's a later start than you'd have liked, but you'd already been away for too long.

And you weren't going to lie, you were hoping to see Harry. Because you liked him. Too much for someone you'd only had a handful of conversations with.

You wonder if he'd worried when you hadn't swum by in the mornings.

You'd be sure to ask him if you saw him.

After a few good strokes you drive down, eyes stinging from the sea water, lungs full of held air as you go down as far as you can, before the pressure in your ears becomes too much and your dart up like a minnow, breaking for air on the surface and floating as you catch your breath, feeling weightless and good from the cool water now soaked into your hair.

After a few moments you push on, heart speeding up as you come into view of his current house, home, for a little while at least.

He was going to be here for as long as you were, the summer, and by then he'd head back to record all the things he'd been busy writing, both musically and lyrically.

You tried not to think about the end of summer, as you came closer, Harry visible from the beach, camped out in a towel with an assortment of things.

He waves you over and you comply without much thought. It's harry.

“It's good to see you,” he says as you come out of the water, dripping wet and already drying off because of the beating sun high overhead, walking over towards his splayed out blanket.

Harry's sitting cross legged on it, guitar in his arms and notebooks by his side, along with a plate full of fruit and cheese and crackers.

“Hope I'm not interrupting,” you state, settling down next across from him, careful not to wet any paper.

“Oh you could never,” he states with a soft smile. “I was getting worried you'd finally turned into a mermaid and swam off on me.”

“Even if I was a mermaid I wouldn't swim off on you,” you joke back. “how's the writing going?”

“Well i've got a lot of solid ideas and I'll have to see how it all sounds in studio, move things around play with what I've got but so far it's all coming together pretty well.”

“That's great,” you tell him, smiling as you take him in, soft brown hair and lips pulled into a smile as he gazes back at you.

Harry begins to strum the guitar, melody instantly recognizable and your thrown back to being in school, “I’m gonna soak up the sun,” he croons and you can't help but giggle at his antics, too adorable not to laugh with. “Gonna tell everyone, to lighten up.”

“God that songs still goes,” you giggle. “Makes me feel old though.”

Harry snorts, eyes narrowing at you comically, “oh wow twenty something, super old.”

“Shut up,” you teases, beaming at him, arms hugging your legs to your chest, “I'm super old. A little old lady who lives alone with her twelve cats.”

He shakes his head laughing. “Do you want any fruit? I've got water too if you're feeling thirsty,” motioning to a steel canteen.

You shake your head, “won't be able to swim even if I really want to steal a mango from you.”

“You could just stay here,” he says, his gaze heavy on you, “hang out for a bit. Have all the mangos in the world?”

It's too tempting to pass up.

“Well how could I say no to an offer like that?”

It's dark by the time you find time to make it down to Harry's house, armed with some cherry pie you'd nabbed before leaving them all to dinner, begging off as Juliana and her grandmother took turns teasing and telling you you should eat at least a plateful of food before leaving.

Even at night the airs still warm, thick with the smell of saltwater you love so much.

“Would you like some pie off a poor little old lady,” you tease him, unable to keep a smile off your lips at the sight of Harry in an old the dye t shirt and black shorts.

“As long as it isn't apple,” he says, leading the way in. “Hope you like pasta.”

It's a beautiful house, covered in the iconic greek white and blue, with an open air kitchen slash alcove that's perfect for nights like these.

“Who doesn't like pasta? It's just bread and cheese if you think about it.” Any combination of bread and cheese was good in your book.

He snorts, “did you really bake me a pie?” Looking way too snug for your liking.

“Nope,” you respond, popping the p, “juliana got the cherries and bullied her brother into helping her make pie.”

“That's just what sisters are like,” he says sagely.

You snort, sitting down and watching as he pours you both a glass of red wine to go along with your pasta and pie.

Conversation is always easy with him. Ranging from bands you both like because who doesn't like the beatles and abba and kendrick lamar. To school which you groan about even though it's nearly over and you do like it, like spending time with your friends, sneaking food into the library.

“That's terrible,” Harry remarks at that.

“Shut up,” you utter, burning red, as you sip at the wine.

Mostly you have to admit you like learning even when it's finals and you want to die and you've slept less than four hours most nights, you wouldn't have it any other way.

“There's something romantic about the whole uni experience,” Harry says, a thread of longing clear in his voice.

You smile at him, “it's all fun and games until my prof from calc reads right out of the book for two hours and i want to stab myself.”

That earns you a loud laugh, Harry's shoulders shaking, “I think I could be a calc professor.”

You wrinkle your nose, “maths gross.”

“wow,” he says, smiling softly over at you, pie abandoned in favor of gazing way to earnestly into your eyes and you feel a shiver run down your spine. “You're way too fucking cute.” It's much too serious a statement and you can't help the giggle that escapes from your lips.

“Shut up Harold!”

“You are,” he responds calmly.

Your cheeks are burning and you can't stop looking into his mossy green eyes, his hair a mess he probably hadn't fixed since he woke up and yet somehow he pulled it off. It was a mix of confidence and natural good looks and the easy nature like that of an excitable puppy.

“Can I kiss you,” he utters softly.

And because you've thought about it before, gazing at him, at his well formed mouth as he talking about anything and everything, face all lit up and focused on you, you nod.

His lips are soft and plush against yours and there's no hesitation, his hand cupping up to cup your cheek, tilting your head towards him, your own eyes fluttering shut.

Kissing him back as eagerly as he kissed you, want thick and throbbing like a live wire inside you.

Your hands coming up to intertwine behind his neck. Harry pulls at your bottom lip, between his teeth, and you part your lips to him.

Letting him in, tongue warm and wet against yours.

His arm pulls you closer to him, everything but each other forgotten, skin heating up with every touch, with every movement, his body hot and solid against yours driving you wild with desire.

You’re practically in his lap as Harry pulls away from your mouth, placing a kiss on the corner of your lips, pulling back and looking down at you, his gaze as heavy and hot as you feel and it's impossible but it makes you want him more, like you've never wanted anyone.

“Do,” he utters, voice strained, “do you want to-”

You nod eagerly and then giggle at yourself, feeling dizzy with want, Harry's body against you driving you wild, knocking you off kilter in a delicious way and you want him. “Yeah, yes all of it.”

He snorts, the warmth of his hand leaving you cheek, taking you into his arms and now you're really straddling him, you legs around his waist and you trust that he won't let you fall as he carries you into the house.

Your hand cups one of his well defined cheekbones and then you're pressing your lips to his, hungrily. Your other hand in his soft hair, as you stumble against the couch, settling down and his body pressing down eagerly against yours, trapping you against the couch.

One of his hands slipping under your shirt, his touch setting you aflame.

You lose yourself in the moment and forget about how short summers are.

epilogue

It's only your second week back and you're already slammed with school work, studying on a saturday night when you could be at a house party, or better yet, sleeping.

The only thing that's keeping you going is the thought of a call from your boyfriend in an hour when the time differences between you and him comply.

Just have to get through another half hour of math and graphs and the reading you just know you'll give up on in another week. Textbooks were horrible things to read and they rarely helped.

Confused you further more often than not.

Your phone vibrates and without looking you know who it is. No one calls anymore and you're expecting it, expecting him.

“Hey,” you utter, “ good morning.” You can't see it, but you can already see his sleepy smile, his hand coming up to rub his eyes before shaking off sleep without the air of coffee you couldn't do without.

“I'd say good morning but that'd hardly be right,” harry says, “or it could be a good morning in advance.”

“In advance,” you giggle quietly, glad the library's practically empty by now, “I like that.”

“What're you doing?”

“Studying, well, finishing studying,” you tell him because there's only so much you can study before your brain fries, “sexy I know.”

He snorts from across the pond, “I don't know about that, librarians can be pretty sexy.”

“Oh my god harold,” you yelp, unable to help yourself, groaning and laughing and wishing he was here.

“What love,” he responds, “I can't help it when it comes to you!”

“i'm going to pack up and go before I get kicked out because of you.”

“me! What did i do,” Harry protests.

You snort and smile to yourself, crazy in love with Harry

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #slight mamma mia au basically #summer love #mine #idk validate me pls?#harry styles fanfiction #its very cute and fluffy

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chyna9 · 5 years

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Chyna’s Valentine Day Fantasy

The guy: He's 6-foot-5 and has a build like Billy Gunn. He has tan, smooth skin and no body hair. He's Latin looking with dark brown thick hair that's groomed -- a short, military-type haircut. Light blue eyes. He has a sexy face with exceptional bone structure, and he wears fragrances like Hugo Boss and Chanel. The date: At one of her many events, she meets a man and hits it off with right away. However, because she's so busy and meets thousands of people every day, she forgets about him. However, he doesn't forget about her. When he gets in touch with her a few weeks later, she lets him do all the talking. She has to be completely convinced that he's worth fitting into to her fanatical schedule. Plus, she's not interested in dating, so he had better be very entertaining. When he gets the feeling that hes won her over enough to earn a date, he describes the plan: a limousine will pick her up at 10 a.m. tomorrow; she doesn't have to bring anything. It'll all be taken care of. With that, he hangs up the phone. She's left feeling intrigued and she thinks, "Is this guy a mobster?" The limo arrives on time and takes her to the Plaza Hotel in New York City. She's escorted to her $10,000-per-night suite, which is entirely filled with red roses. There's candy and chocolates, as well as several personal servants that are there to indulge her -- a masseuse, make-up artist, hair-stylist, manicurist, pedicurist. While she's getting pampered, a box arrives with a glamorous dress inside -- seafoam green silk with a low back and straps made of diamonds. There's a note inside: "Wear this tonight. Your car will be ready at 8 p.m. I'll will call you today to see how you're doing." But he never calls. She's loving her day, but she can't help but feel a little out of control. Who is this guy? And perhaps even scarier: She may end up liking him too much. It's time to go and she's looking and feeling better than ever. She's escorted to the car and is met by a throng of paparazzi outside. Somehow word has leaked that Chyna was at the Plaza. Photographers are flashing away, and that's OK because everything's perfect. The reporters are eager to know, "Chyna, Where are you going? Is there a special event? An awards show?" She says, "Frankly, I don't know where I'm going." She gets in the car, which is a little chilly (its always cold in a limo). She looks next to her and there's a full-length chinchilla coat. Another note: "Since I'm not there to keep you warm, maybe this will." She thinks perhaps she's going to a restaurant, but is instead taken to a private airstrip. Normally she would be tentative to get on an airplane with someone she doesn't know very well. However, the red carpet had been rolled out and theres welcoming glow coming from the jet, so she steps on board, and there he is. He's wearing head to toe Prada -- black slacks, a black blazers, Prada shoes with no socks and a white silk T-shirt with a crew neck. He welcomes her onboard, hands her some champagne, takes her jacket and is just memorized by how beautiful she is. He can't take his eyes off her. He asks her if she likes the jacket and the dress, and she responds that she does, of course. He says, "I want you to relax. I've contacted your place of employment and you have been granted a week away from work." Immediately she thinks, "I didn't pack anything!" Then she sees three big pieces of Hermes luggage and is assured that this man has gone shopping for her needs. They make themselves comfortable, the jet takes off and he says, "You must be hungry. What's your favorite kind of food?" She answers Italian. He says, "Great, because I'm taking you there for dinner." During the seven-hour trip to Italy, he makes her laugh, asks her lots of questions and is just glued to her every word. When she asks about him, he swerves the conversation back to her, which makes him seem mysterious, yet intriguing. He pulls out a cello because he knows that she plays it, and he asks her to do so. She obliges, playing for him "The Swan" from "Carnival of the Animals." He loves it. They land in Rome and he takes her to the yacht, welcomes her aboard and leads her to her quarters, where she finds tons of new clothes hanging in the closets. She can't decide what to put on. She comes out on deck in a bathing suit. He is wearing casual cotton/gauze drawstring pants. She gets her first glance at his upper body, which is very impressive. He's barefoot, and he's gazing at her like shes beautiful. She feels like, "I'm ready for this guy to kiss me right now!" Instead, he says, "Make yourself at home. My servants will get you anything you need." And he roars off in his Lamborghini. She's so excited that she doesn't feel tired, but after she showers and explores the yacht a bit, she falls asleep in her bed. She awakes to a soft kiss and Mr. Right says, "You're so beautiful when you're sleeping. I've been watching you." She's totally seduced by him -- not intimidated. She wants to get intimate right then and there. Instead, he whispers to her with a smile, "Come with me. I want to show you something." They go into this other room, where there's this beautiful ballroom gown. He hands her a blue velvet box, and inside are Bvlgari earnings and a necklace -- jewelry that even Princess Diana had never worn. He says, "We're going to a party." The Bentley limo brings them to an enormous, opulent palace. The party is already in full swing. There are rows of fancy cars outside. He takes her hand and they walk up the marble staircase. They come to a gigantic landing, and below them is a sea of people. A chime indicates they've arrived. The people look up, and then bow. Now she's thinking, "This guy must be the man! He's not a mobster, he's royalty!" He turns out to be a prince. While she can hardly catch her breath, she has an ear-to-ear grin. He takes her hand and escorts her through the parting crowd and the Waltz begins. (In this dream, Chyna knows how to do the Waltz.) They circle around the dance floor to the delight of the guests. The "oohs" and "aahs" are all in Italian, so it's very fantastico. The dance ends and this man, to whom hundreds have bowed, goes down on one knee before Chyna, holds her hand in his and asks, "Will you be my princess?" She says yes. On a velvet pillow comes a diamond tiara, which is placed on her head. And he kisses her with a wonderful, passionate kiss. There's a huge celebration, the party's in high gear. Without a word, they slip off to his grand bedroom. There's a fireplace, a marble, four-post bed with the velvet canopy and animal-skin rugs. He slams the door shut, pushes her against the wall and tears the dress off, leaving her bare with only gems and tiara. They ensue in a harmonious evening of passionate lovemaking.

#wishlist #articles #interviews

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undersea-pearl · 5 years

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Seafoam Pearl Bio

Name: Seafoam Pearl (Prefers to be called either ‘Misty’ or ‘Neptune’)

Gemstone: Pearl

Gemstone Placement: Chest

Court: once belonged to the blue court

Weapons/Abilities: Ribbon Wand/ Ocean-like Abilities

Height: 5’0 (irregular size)

Talent(s): Ballet Dancer/Singer

Birthplace: Homeworld

Current Residence: Earth

Status: Low-Class; Servant

Alliance/Organization: The Crystal Gems

Personality: Humble, Kind, Modest, Timid, Low Self-esteem, Helpful, Cool-Tempered, Cheerful, Carefree, Laid-back, Supportive, Obedient.

Appearance: (Homeworld): Short, Wavey Green Hair with a Green bow on top where her bangs are. One-piece Teal bathing suit with a Transparent Three layered frills skirt with a color palette or Green, Blue, and White. Light Green Frills Trimming along her shouldes connected to the top of her bathing suit with a Bright Green Ribbon wrapping her waistline. Aqua Green Transparent Socks and Green Slippers.

(Earth; Main Outfit): Long, Overgrown Green Hair with Blue Highlights reaching her shoulders with bangs covering her eyes. Long, Flowing Yellow Dress with Green/Blue Seashells prints on it with a Pink Ribbon wrapping her waistline. No Socks and Pink/Yellow Flip-flops.

Biography: Seafoam Pearl once belonged to Three High-ranking Gems; An Morgnite, A Jasper, and a Agate in her time on Homeworld, all of which were either Mildly or Mostly Abusive and viewed her as an object. While she was able to emotionally controlled herself, she began to feel uncomfortable as time went on. Then the revolution began and she (along with her owner) were sent to earth during the war.

Before the Diamonds launched their Fatal attack, Seafoam was Abandoned, poofed, and thrown into the ocean by her Owner as all the Homeworld Gems Fled the earth. She landed on an large oyster, thus escaping the courrption fate unlike many other gems. She remained poofed and trapped inside the oyster for thousands of years before being rediscover by human divers looking for treasure.

Once they opened the oyster and took out her gem, she reformed herself while accidentally scaring the divers away. She wandered through earth while exploring her individuality for months before she arrived at Beach City, Now she's a free Pearl that loves the ocean, despite the experience she had and emotionally recovered from her days as a servant on Homeworld.

#·.¸¸.·♩♪♫ “rippled memories of the ocean...” ♫♪♩·.¸¸.· (;;headcanons)

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byalanna · 2 years

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Buying Modest Swimwear at Alanna Murray

Nowadays, it might be difficult to find modest swimwear. Since they feel so uneasy in the little garments they refer to as bathing suits, many women and young ladies have struggled for years to find proper bathing suits to wear. For today's shopper, using the Internet to aid in your swimwear search is a huge bonus. Despite the time and effort it saves, shopping online is considerably simpler when you need difficult-to-find things. Since more businesses are becoming aware of the demand for modest swimwear, a bigger range is now beginning to emerge.

There is a considerably wider selection of suits now that one-piece bathing suits are popular, yet it does not mean they are all modest. One-piece swimwear does not always imply that modesty is the goal. You will be pleased to discover a wider array of modest clothing options available for those of you who do want modest clothing for a number of reasons. Despite the fact that several well-known brands are offering "testing" models, it will probably be difficult for you to locate the "one" tester suit that has modesty in mind. Searching online is your best option if you're looking for modest swimwear.

When buying online, you may find a variety of retailers offering modest swimwear, giving you additional options. The most stylishly discerning young teen will be pleased by the stylish, trendy suits you may discover! Both one-piece and tankini-style modest suits are offered. It gives me such a sense of security to think that this summer I will be able to go to the beach or the pool and feel comfortable and at ease since I am adequately protected. It's high time these businesses responded to the requests.

Shopping may once more be enjoyable. In the luxury of your own home, shop online till you drop. You visit several stores and websites to compare costs and suits. You'll love the variety of designs and hues available, and wearing your new suit this summer will guarantee you plenty of compliments. Simple swimwear does not imply a lack of style or taste; rather, it indicates that you cherish your standards. You can maintain a fashionable, cool appearance while while feeling confident in your decisions.

If you are one of the many women who are urgently trying to find stylish, modest swimwear than visit Alanna Murray for Shop Now for Seafoam Green Bathing Suit, Seafoam Green Bikini, Seafoam Green Swimsuit, Gray Swim Bottoms, Lemon High Waisted Bikini, Floral High Waisted Swim Bottoms, Floral Bandeau Swim Top, Floral Bandeau Top, Floral Bandeau Swimsuit, High Waisted Floral Swim Bottoms by Alanna Maria

Visit- https://bit.ly/3SForRJ

Original source- https://bit.ly/3DsDuZw

#alanna murray #seafoam green bathing suit #seafoam green bikini #seafoam green swimsuit #alanna maria #gray swim bottoms #lemon high waisted bikini #floral high waisted swim bottoms #floral bandeau swim top #floral bandeau top #floral bandeau swimsuit #high waisted floral swim bottoms

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stillsolo · 6 years

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BEST PICTURE NOMINEES (2018) AESTHETICS.

THE SHAPE OF WATER. early mornings. art on an easel. being trapped. flashy cars. self-righteous intolerance. speaking volumes without a word. being submerged. learning and adapting. raindrops on windows. bubbles rising in water. cats. taboo desires. tanks of water. kitschy nostalgia. kissing underwater. silence. isolation. golden age Hollywood. sign language. scales. eggshells. Jell-O. the smell of cleaning supplies. creature features. the space race. red coats. monstrous fairy tales. lab coats. lunches in brown bags. the click of shoes. smog. dance routines. slices of pie. toxic masculinity. chains. government secrets. seeing past flaws. floating aimlessly. needles. greens and blues. deep, inexorable scars. gills. music from the 30′s. retro-futurism. bloody handprints. routines. record players. old movies. love in unexpected places.

PHANTOM THREAD. a doll in a gilded birdcage. butter to bread. the death of a mother. cycles. hidden messages. a disruptive presence. longing. wedding gowns. posh control. post-war. brightly colored socks. inner turmoil. poison. an air of quiet death. hallucinations. family dysfunction. rich fabrics. curses. soft piano music. restrained anger. spinning out of control. artist and muse. dark love. pastels. peace in the countryside. clockwork dynamics. perfection. wild mushrooms. giving up every piece of yourself. rags to riches. ghosts. new year’s. lingering gazes. needle and thread. fine dining. hearing every sound. being ambushed. ego. flowing dresses. a person out of place. defiance. ink on paper. an artist tortured by their art. obsessive personalities. peepholes. soothing elegance. silk. spiral staircases. driving at high speeds. high society.

THE POST. typewriters. newspapers. tense climates. distrust of authority. internal battles. a legacy at stake. secrets. cover-ups. defending what you believe. peering through windows. melodrama. political corruption. behind closed doors. sniffing a scoop. ringing phones. lying for over a decade. cramming and crowding. cold grays. war. fluorescent lights. treason. shuffled papers. the jungle. a weight on your shoulders. fresh coffee. thousands of deaths. burglary. finding your voice. risking everything. propaganda. tough choices. exposure. type being set by hand. workplace rivalries. abusing power. security breaches. hierarchy. a bed strewn with papers and books. paranoia. orders. clicking keys. redacted files. desk clutter. cigarette smoke. precious cargo. vanished technologies. suspenseful conversations. facing charges. courtroom battles. suits and ties.

DARKEST HOUR. never surrendering. duty. countless negotiations. the flash of cameras. beaches. historic buildings. guzzling booze. resignation. utter catastrophe. bunkers. radio broadcasts. going against the odds. bathed in red light. a sense of humor. allies. shouting matches. small square windows. selfishness. walking with a cane. war rooms. chandeliers. dust floating in air. righteousness. a poor reputation. an elevator surrounded by darkness. a world at war. needing a miracle. interruptions. a last hope. cigar smoke. quoting poetry. photos of a loved one. a single sunbeam. monarchy. vanity. rescue missions. refusing peace. allied chambers. military uniforms. taking a stand. common folk. suicide missions. drums of war. tears down sullen cheeks. reluctance. complete collapse. evacuations. enveloped by fog. changing history. blood, toil, tears, and sweat.

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI. severe burns. police uniforms. sirens. the calmness of a deer. strumming guitars. grieving. horrifying memories. sucker punches. a lack of respect. facing threats. skin under fingernails. flicking cigarettes. awkward dates. nasty rumors. claustrophobia. lush green pastures. molotov cocktails. the fire of anger and revenge. strangers. no remorse. bashing in windows. the Midwest. provoking a fight. pointing fingers. being pressed for time. rundown old houses. grey morality. dark undercurrents. insurmountable losses. cruel laughs. the American flag. dive bars. guilty no matter what. buildings in flames. ambulances. coughing up blood. spitting. chewing on fingernails. one versus many. black and red. not understanding another’s feelings. a mother and child. the pain of others. a quest for justice. abandoned billboards. a hardened gaze. driving to nowhere. small towns. last letters. absurd violence.

DUNKIRK. burying a body. warm cider. narrow escapes. a race against time. a small boat. all hope lost. being unable to come home. taken prisoner. shipwrecks. assuming the identity of someone else. setting fire to it all. smoke rising from a crash. seafoam. seaports. rendered blind. dropping to take cover. land, sea, and air. entangled in chains. toast with jam. suspense. waiting for escape. wounded men. lying in the sand. trauma. blank spaces. sinking ships. commended a hero. cocking a gun. swallowed by darkness. bullet holes. obstacles and delays. a hero’s welcome. planes overhead. the sounds of a ticking clock. bullets ricocheting off metal. people by the thousands. shell-shocked. the explosions of shells on shores. the sound of destruction. rising tides. head injuries. target practice. compressed time and space. the perennial threat of death. oil ignited in flames. lying for the greater good. blocking out the noise. primal dangers. taking command. sole survivor.

GET OUT. deer antlers. suburbs. hypnosis. strange behavior. familial tension. chopping wood. uneasy stares. tears and a smile. deception. fight or flight. blindness. survival. sinking into the floor. watching but powerless. strapped to a chair. plugged ears. a failed handshake. car accidents. sunken places. something out of a nightmare. going hysterical. bingo cards. smoking cigarettes. static on a television set. doing more harm than good. a hint of a smile. a stranger in an environment that is foreign to them. waiting for someone to come when they never will. overturned candles. wealthy garden parties. constantly looking over your shoulder. silence no matter how hard you scream. trances. catharsis. a battle of wills. layers being peeled back. a cup of tea. nosebleeds. addiction. last bits of life leaving a body. black and white photography. sprinting at high speeds. conspiracies. surgery. blankly polite speech. noise of a spoon scraping across a teacup. a deer in headlights. staring at your own reflection. unable to sleep. loyal friends.

LADY BIRD. california landscapes. budding romance. uniforms. consolation. plain and luscious colors. apologizing. boorish sex. prom dresses. secondhand dresses. strong personalities. the ups and downs of adolescence. the theatre. being simultaneously warm and scary. battling depression. 90’s fashion. dreaming of elsewhere. partying. signatures on a cast. living on the wrong side of the tracks. not being bound by any era. rejection. sparklers. thrift stores. high school. identity crisis. a place that looks like a memory. going behind backs. disappointed parents. catholicism. poverty. busy new york city streets. monotonous hometowns. shitty bands. anarchy. drifting in and out of friendships. menial jobs. red hair. self-given names. coming-of-age. a broken arm. excessive drinking. first kisses. cupcakes. smudged eye makeup. bruises gained unknowingly. strained relationships. screaming in the middle of the street. thoughtful letters. standing out. decorated bedroom walls. having a change of heart. expressing individuality.

do not reblog. tagging: @recklcsshope @techniiciian @tatooinelight @unlegacied @chasiingfreedom @sithshadow @watcherandshield @tachiisms @onlyhopc @blvderunnvr @stayedlight @willnotfightyou @mcsterskywclker @craveschallenges @excltedblade @mynameisanakin & anyone else! just say I tagged you!

#( . i'm sorry but ... ;a; these are so fun ;a;#˒・*。◞ ( ooc ) *･ﾟ✧ ⎸ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴀʀʙᴏɴɪᴛᴇ.#( . once again you are not obligated to do this!#long post #❝ ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴʀᴏᴅ. ❞ [ headcanons ]

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mysterymirrors · 26 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Triangl Chloe Original Neoprene Bikini Top - Seafoam Green/Tiffany Blue - S.

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jlunnposh · 11 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: CALIA by Carrie Underwood Brook Green Peek-a-boo 2-Pc Bikini Set Small.

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fightfearwithfun · 6 years

Text

BEST PICTURE NOMINEES (2018) AESTHETICS.

repost, don’t reblog.

THE SHAPE OF WATER. early mornings. art on an easel. being trapped. flashy cars. self-righteous intolerance. speaking volumes without a word. being submerged. learning and adapting. raindrops on windows. bubbles rising in water. cats. taboo desires. tanks of water. kitschy nostalgia. kissing underwater. silence. isolation. golden age hollywood. sign language. scales. eggshells. jell-o. the smell of cleaning supplies. creature features. the space race. red coats. monstrous fairy tales. lab coats. lunches in brown bags. the click of shoes. smog. dance routines. slices of pie. chains. government secrets. seeing past flaws. floating aimlessly. needles. greens and blues. deep, inexorable scars. gills. music from the 30′s. retro-futurism. bloody handprints. routines. record players. old movies. love in unexpected places.

PHANTOM THREAD. a doll in a gilded birdcage. butter to bread. the death of a mother. cycles. hidden messages. a disruptive presence. longing. wedding gowns. posh control. post-war. brightly colored socks. inner turmoil. poison. an air of quiet death. hallucinations. family dysfunction. rich fabrics. curses. soft piano music. restrained anger.spinning out of control. artist and muse. dark love. pastels. peace in the countryside. clockwork dynamics. perfection. wild mushrooms. giving up every piece of yourself. rags to riches. ghosts. new year’s. lingering gazes. needle and thread. fine dining. hearing every sound. being ambushed. ego. flowing dresses. a person out of place. defiance. ink to paper. an artist tortured by their art. obsessive personalities. peepholes. soothing elegance. silk. spiral staircases. driving at high speeds. high society.

THE POST. typewriters. newspapers. tense climates. distrust of authority. internal battles. a legacy at stake. secrets. cover-ups. defending what you believe. peering through windows. melodrama. political corruption. behind closed doors. sniffing a scoop. ringing phones. lying for over a decade. cramming and crowding. cold grays. war. fluorescent lights. treason. shuffled papers. the jungle. a weight on your shoulders. fresh coffee. thousands of deaths. burglary. finding your voice. risking everything. propaganda. tough choices. exposure. type being set by hand. workplace rivalries. abusing power. security breaches. a bed strewn with papers and books. paranoia. orders. clicking keys. redacted files. desk clutter. cigarette smoke. precious cargo. vanished technologies. suspenseful conversations. facing charges. courtroom battles. suits and ties.

DARKEST HOUR. never surrendering. duty. countless negotiations. the flash of cameras. beaches. historic buildings. guzzling booze. resignation. utter catastrophe. bunkers. radio broadcasts. going against the odds. bathed in red light. a sense of humor. allies. shouting matches. small square windows. selfishness. walking with a cane. war rooms. chandeliers. dust floating in air. righteousness. a poor reputation. an elevator surrounded by darkness. a world at war. needing a miracle. interruptions. a last hope. cigar smoke. quoting poetry. photos of a loved one. a single sunbeam. vanity. rescue missions. refusing peace. allied chambers. military uniforms. taking a stand. common folk. suicide missions. drums of war. tears down sullen cheeks. reluctance. complete collapse. evacuations. enveloped by fog. changing history. blood, toil, tears and sweat.

THREE BILLBOARDS OUTSIDE EBBING, MISSOURI. severe burns. police uniforms. sirens. the calmness of a deer. strumming guitars. grieving. horrifying memories. sucker punches. a lack of respect. facing threats. skin under fingernails. flicking cigarettes. awkward dates. nasty rumors. claustrophobia. lush green pastures. molotov cocktails. the fire of anger and revenge. strangers. no remorse. bashing in windows. the midwest. provoking a fight. pointing fingers. being pressed for time. rundown old houses. grey morality. dark undercurrents. insurmountable losses. cruel laughs. the american flag. dive bars. guilty no matter what. buildings in flames. ambulances. coughing up blood. spitting. chewing on fingernails. one versus many. black and red. not understanding another’s feelings. a mother and child. the pain of others. abandoned billboards. a hardened gaze. driving to nowhere. small towns. last letters. absurd violence.

DUNKIRK. burying a body. warm cider. narrow escapes. a race against time. a small boat. all hope lost. being unable to come home. taken prisoner. shipwrecks. assuming the identity of someone else. setting fire to it all. smoke rising from a crash. seafoam. seaports. rendered blind. dropping to take cover. land, sea, and air. entangled in chain. toast with jam. suspense. waiting for escape. wounded men. lying in the sand. trauma. blank spaces. sinking ships. commended a hero. cocking a gun. swallowed by darkness. bullet holes. obstacles and delays. a hero’s welcome. planes overhead. the sounds of a ticking clock. bullets ricocheting off metal. people by the thousands. shell-shocked. the explosions of shells on shores. the sound of destruction. rising tides. head injuries. target practice. compressed time and space. the perennial threat of death. oil ignited into flames. lying for the greater good. blocking out the noise. primal dangers. taking command. sole survivor.

LADY BIRD. california landscapes. budding romance. uniforms. consolation. plain and luscious colors. apologizing. boorish sex. prom dresses. secondhand dresses. strong personalities. the ups and downs of adolescence. the theatre. being simultaneously warm and scary. 90’s fashion. dreaming of elsewhere. partying. signatures on a cast. living on the wrong side of the tracks not being bound by any era. rejection. sparklers. thrift stores. high school. identity crisis. a place that looks like a memory. going behind backs. disappointed parents. poverty. busy new york city streets. monotonous hometowns. shitty bands. drifting in and out of friendships. menial jobs. red hair. self-given names. coming of age. a broken arm. excessive drinking. first kisses. cupcakes. smudged eye makeup. bruises gained unknowingly. strained relationships. screaming in the middle of the street. thoughtful letters. standing out. decorated bedroom walls. having a change of heart. expressing individuality.

CALL ME BY YOUR NAME. heartbreak. unbuttoned shirts. fields of flowers. having to say goodbye. cobblestone streets. rendezvous at midnight. battling temptation. academic paperwork. peeling an orange. 80’s nostalgia. classical music. long walks. ancient artifacts. abundant orchards. shoulder massages. expressive sexuality. remembering everything. staring into a fireplace. dipping your feet in cool water. uncertainty. villa vacations. curly hair. longing gazes. riding a bicycle around. mystery of love. balconies. swimming naked. first times. bathing suits. roman statues. secret sensuality. peaches. piano music. sun-soaked summer. having your nose in a book. just rooms apart. crystal blue water. growing attractions. changing your name. intimacy beyond physical. love affairs. rich wines. finding pleasure in grief. daring to desire. european lyricism. loving father figures. dancing to disco. laying in green grass. awkward adolescence. hands interlinked. sentimental jewelry. connection through identity.

Tagged by: @notalone-butfree Tagging: EVERYONE

#{I haven't seen any of these yet and I'm not sure they're all what I'd go for #but I would like to see Dunkirk #when i'm emotionally stable(or as much as I can be)#;aesthetics: {a touch of frost}

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