• Louis Tomlinson Pack.

christmas headers - part 4

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credits on twitter to @lwtmorphine.

Idk if I've talked about this before, but I saw someone post about why people who have been trying to shift for so long might not be shifting (this might not apply to everyone, but it really clicked with me). They only explained why, so I'm gonna talk about the solution I came up with.

They specifically said that it was not tough love, but psychological facts: it's possible that your mind registers shifting as a goal in THIS reality.

Think about that for a second. This is the part that really got me when I started to think about it. When you are here, in your CR, your goal is to shift, right? So what if our minds interprets that as a goal IN THIS REALITY, as simple as going to bed thinking "oh, I'm going to unload the dishwasher in the morning." Because shifting is just aligning with your DR self, and guess what?? Your goal in your DR is not to shift! That blew up my brain a little bit.

"But i want to shift" you know how everyone keeps saying "you are already in your DR"? I interpreted that for so long as motivation. It's not. It's the process. To align with your DR self, just like aligning with another person in your CR you have to have the same goals.

So your goal is no longer to shift. Stop thinking like that. Your goal IS NOT TO SHIFT. Waking up where you are meant to has never been a goal, but an expectation. Your goal is to wake up and go downstairs to have breakfast with your DR friends or family. Your goal is to wake up and get to class on time to ace that Defence Against The Dark Arts quiz you totally forgot to study for until the night before. Your goal is to wake up and win that Oscar, to break that curse, destroy the One Ring, you fucking name it babes.

I don't know if this is really dumb and obvious, but it wasn't for me before, so I really hope this post helps someone else too.

XO

“calling out for somebody to hold tonight when you’re lost, I'll find a way I’ll be your light you'll never feel like you're alone I’ll make this feel like home”

GENSHIN MASTERLIST!

AETHER

nothing here yet!

ALBEDO

nothing here yet!

ARATAKI ITTO

nothing here yet!

BEIDOU

nothing here yet!

DILUC

nothing here yet!

EULA

nothing here yet!

GANYU

nothing here yet!

GOROU

nothing here yet!

HU TAO

nothing here yet!

JEAN

nothing here yet!

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

nothing here yet!

KAEYA

nothing here yet!

KAMISATO AYAKA

nothing here yet!

KAMISATO AYATO

nothing here yet!

KEQING

nothing here yet!

KUJOU SARA

nothing here yet!

KUKI SHINOBU

nothing here yet!

LUMINE

nothing here yet!

NINGGUANG

nothing here yet!

RAIDEN SHOGUN/EI

nothing here yet!

ROSARIA

nothing here yet!

SANGONOMIYA KOKOMI

nothing here yet!

SHENHE

nothing here yet!

TARTAGLIA/CHILDE

nothing here yet!

THOMA

nothing here yet!

VENTI

nothing here yet!

XIAO

nothing here yet!

YAE MIKO

nothing here yet!

YANFEI

nothing here yet!

YELAN

nothing here yet!

YOIMIYA

nothing here yet!

YUN JIN

nothing here yet!

ZHONGLI

nothing here yet!

Hi can I ask for a harry smut?

I'm just making this up on the fly but here we go. Gotta get something out today. And honestly, this is super self indulgent so- and I'm not sure what this-

Warnings: SMUT (+18), pet-names, small choking. If I missed any, please dm me.

Harry's fingers intertwined with yours, his bare hips resting flush against yours. His other hand snuck under the hem of his jersey, raising the fabric up your chest while he explored your skin.

"Should've known how I was gonna react, bunny." Emerald green eyes locked with yours before slowly trailing down your body. He always did love how desperate you looked. "So perfect." he couldn't help but grin.

"Harry," you whined out, your eyes followed the hand across your chest moved down to your stomach, "please, do something." you were grateful the dorm room was empty. The boys would've laughed at you for begging like a whore.

"Hmm, I'm not sure if I should." he rutted against you, moving his hips in a circle just to watch your head toss back and your jaw clench up. 

"Please." Your voice jumped octaves in the middle of your plea. The bastard gave you a hard thrust, causing your back to arch off the mattress.

Harry licked his lips. He always did love how responsive you were, so he told you, in that raspy voice he knew you drooled over. His hands clamped down onto your waist before he began to finally move into a solid rhythm.

One of your hands came to cover your mouth while the other tugged at the bed sheets. Your eyes squinted closed, your mind going fuzzy as stars danced behind your lids. The hand around your mouth was suddenly tugged away, causing a gasp moan combo to leave your swollen lips.

"I want to hear you, darling. Don't hide from me." Harry leaned over to plant a heavy kiss against your lips. His hips didn't stop slamming into you while his lips dragged across your cheek. "Are you close?"

You nodded your head quickly, one hand wrapping around the back Harry's neck, the other around your dripping cock. Your moans bounced off the bring walls before colliding loudly with Harry's.

"Good boy." His hot breath fanned across your skin as he grunted. His hand abandoned your hip and instead latched onto your throat. "Merlin, fuck-" His hand gave your throat a gentle squeeze- just barely cutting off the air flow, making your legs clamp tightly against his skin.

Before you knew it, your hand was covered in your built up pleasure. His name left your lips as your back arched off the plush mattress. Once your walls clamped down around him, it didn’t take long for Harry to finish inside you. His thumb rubbed over your bobbing adams apple while you both recovered and caught your breath.

“I love you.” He whispered, kissing your warm cheek. He let out a chuckle when your chests collided. He sat up, pulling himself free and plopping himself down next to you. “You did so good, hun.” He held your hand gently rubbing his thumb along your knuckles to hide his yawn.

“I love you too, baby.” You giggled, running a hand through your sweaty hair. You raised an eyebrow over the yawn, but decided not to say anything about it. “You did good too.”

“Just good?”

“Keep pushing your luck and it’ll be decent.”

“Ouch. My pride.”

"I wish you could just admit you made a mistake" "I didnt make a mistake, I like it with salt" *while stirring coffee*. Any pairing you want and it doesnt have to be romantic.

I had a blast writing this!! Some domestic!drarry for the soul :)

Coffee

~

Harry wakes to the smell of coffee and the sound of clattering in the kitchen. The light streaming in from the windows makes him blink blearily, the blankets warm where they wrapped around his legs. He reaches groggily over to the other side, where Draco usually slept and touched only air.

For a heartbeat, just a heartbeat that old panic comes back, of waking up and finding the other person gone. Harry’s spent too many mornings like that; Draco having slipped away some time before dawn, the bed cold and so, so empty. He clenches his hands, fists slipping on the sheets. It always took awhile for him to calm down, to be reminded that he was here, in their apartment in Diagon Alley, all old windows and exposed brick.

Draco had picked the place out, half-forgotten on a small side street, the windows boarded and the door locked. Harry had thought he was crazy at first, crazy for wanting an old wreck like this was.

But they had cleaned it up nicely: exposed beams and huge windows with emerald shutters, hard wooden flooring covered in soft rugs. Pansy had done most of the decorating - Harry wanted too much red and Draco wanted too much green. The flat was now a comfortable amalgamation of them both - broomsticks on the floor, Harry’s coffee mugs and Draco’s crystal wine glasses, a Muggle television and an old pensieve that Draco had bought from god knew where.

It felt like home. Harry’s never really felt like that before, having a place to truely call home.

He gets out of bed slowly, wincing at the bright lights. There’s a mess of clothing dumped on one of the chairs; he grabs something at random (Draco’s - only he would bother to buy a sweater this nice) and pulls it on, padding into the kitchen.

Draco’s perched on the counter, a newspaper in hand. Harry watches him, all tousled blonde hair and long legs and the faintest edge of a rosy blush on his cheeks. The sun hits him from behind making him look like he was glowing, the entire room lit up by the beauty of his smile.

Harry remembers a time long ago, back to the War and the fighting. Draco had been colder, harder, painted in shades of grey instead of gold. Still beautiful - he always had been beautiful - but nothing close to what he was now.

He could have watched Draco for hours, flipping through the Prophet idly, the smell of warm coffee in the air. Draco notices him before long though; he rolls his eyes, tossing the newspaper over Harry’s head and onto the sofa behind him. “Creep,” he says, though there’s no venom behind the words. “How long have you been watching me?”

Harry shrugs. He doesn’t bother to hide the smile on his face, like he might’ve so long ago. He’s long learnt that Draco was Draco - he never needed to hide anything around him. “Few minutes. You know we have a couch right?”

“Oh really?” Draco says in mock surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Maybe you’re just stupid,” Harry says and Draco lets out a long laugh.

“Bitch,” he mutters and flicks his wand. The mail comes soaring into Harry’s hands, the door swinging slightly behind it. “Here’s all your precious fan mail by the way.”

Harry scowls, examining the parchment in his hand. “How do they keep finding us?”

“Probably a tracking spell or something. How come I never get any fan mail?”

“You have the fucked-up Death Eater guy.”

Draco pours. “Yes, but he’s a fucked-up Death Eater guy. You get all the admirers. No one has ever sent me a condom before.”

Harry shudders. “Oh please no,” he says, dropping the stack of mail onto the coffee table with a groan. “That was one time! One time!”

“It was an extra large!” Draco calls out as Harry shoves his way into the kitchen, slamming an empty mug onto the counter. Ron had gotten it for him as an 18th birthday present - one of those tacky souvenir ones that seemed to have sprouted up everywhere after the war. The Bae Who Lived was stamped on one side, along with a lipstick mark that did not resemble Harry’s lips at all.

Draco had now stretched himself out on the counter, legs dangling idly over the edge. His arm was out and bare next to him, the Dark Mark covered up by beautiful flowers, rendered in soft purples and blues and greens. It was a Muggle tattoo for the most part, with the exception of one single hydrangea - in ever shifting colours of pale pinks and soft teals. Draco had designed it himself - they still had the parchment sketched on the wall in the bedroom.

“Move,” Harry grumbles, unceremoniously shoving Draco off the counter. “Why are you even up so early? It’s not like we have practice or anything.”

Draco gives him a disbelieving stare. “It’s almost 8.”

“Too fucking early.”

“Go to bed earlier then.”

“I did!” Harry shakes his head. “You’re the one keeping me up all night.”

“Well,” Draco says, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I’m sure I could wake you up by - “

“I’m going to stop you right there.” Harry scowls into his empty mug, running a hand through his hair. “The only thing I want to be woken up by today is the Lord and coffee. I need coffee.”

“Pot,” Draco says, gesturing vaguely towards the coffee machine. “My boyfriend. The handsomest idiot in the world.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Harry grumbles as he pours himself a huge cup. Draco had an unusual talent for making incredible coffee, despite not knowing how to use a french press about 6 months ago. “I defeated Voldemort, right? That’s got to count for something.”

Draco laughs. “Please. You’re an idiot.”

“Am not,” Harry scowls. He finds the milk in the fridge, adding copious amounts to his coffee. “Where’s the spoons?”

“This is your fucking loft too,” Draco mutters. He hands Harry the spoon from his own coffee mug, smirking as he did. “Honestly. Remember that headline a few weeks ago? ‘Harry Potter; the Hidden Mysteries of the Boy Who Lived?’”

“Vividly,” Harry mutters, now rummaging around the cupboards for the sugar. “Made me sound like some sort of bloody celebrity or something. Anything Skeeter writes is trash.”

Draco hums. He kicks his feet out in front of him idly. “True. It’s a load of bullshit anyways. Hidden mysteries my ass.”

Harry flips him off. He finds the sugar in a jar next to the stove and adds a few heaping spoonfuls to his coffee, the rich scent already helping with his headache. “I’m mysterious!” he protests. “And handsome. And attractive. And devastatingly intelligent.”

“Apparently not,” Draco says, “Seeing as you just put salt in your coffee.”

Harry freezes. He turns back towards the stove. For the first time he notices the small black letters on the side of the jar. Sea Salt.

He inwardly groans, turning back to face Draco, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. “No. I meant to do that.”

“I wish you would just admit you made a mistake,” Draco sighs, watching as Harry serenely stirs his coffee. “Gryffindors.”

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Harry mutters, clinking his spoon against his mug. “I like it with salt.”

“Oh really?” Draco says. Harry sees the glint in his eye and gulps. “Then you wouldn’t have a problem with drinking it?”

Harry swallows, hard. Shit, he thinks. Draco’s eyes are full of challenge, that streak of competitiveness that made him fall in love in the first place.

Harry slowly raises the mug to his lips. “Fuck you,” he says and chugs the whole thing. Halfway through he regrets it - it’s burning hot and excruciatingly salty, like drinking warm ocean water. He never could turn down a dare though, draining the cup to the dregs.

“See?” he says, slamming the cup down in front of Draco. “Delicious.”

Draco gets to his feet, smiling wickedly. He crosses over to the stove, picking up the jar of salt. “Delicious?”

“Yeah,” Harry says, trying to hind the grimace and the lingering taste still in his mouth. “I could drink this all day.”

He regrets the words as soon as it leaves his mouth. Draco grins, his face turning evil. “Well then,” he says. “It’s a good thing I love my boyfriend so much then.”

Fuck.

“Draco - “ Harry starts, but Draco just winks.

“Love you,” he says, and then dumps the entire pot of salt into the coffee.

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louis tomlinson christmas layouts (requested)

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requests are open!

Viperion: So Ladybug, are you and Chat noir... a thing?

Ladybug: What? Oh no. Not at all. We are crime fighting partners. We are not dating.

Viperion: Oh, cool. I’m relieved.

Ladybug: Oh? Why is that? (Blushing)

Viperion: Because now I can ask out Chat noir without feeling guilty.

Ladybug: Viperion I’m flat... wait What?