sometimes Twitter isn't terrible

seen from Canada
seen from Romania
seen from Japan
seen from Italy

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from United States

seen from Canada
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from Norway
seen from Brazil
seen from Norway

seen from Lithuania
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Australia
seen from Türkiye
seen from Norway
sometimes Twitter isn't terrible
trust in me when i say (oh, pretty baby)
"Oh, sun," Louis gushes. Harry's scent reeks of something bitter, tainting the otherwise sweet and warm smell of vanilla he's used to. He wraps his arms around the omega, hand cradling the back of his head as he guides him to nuzzle into his neck with a sympathetic sound. "What's wrong?"
Harry sniffles, "I tried to make cookies." He melts into Louis' embrace, arms still tucked into himself. Louis can feel the cool press of his nose against his neck, hears the omega inhale deeply and let out a shuddering breath immediately after. "But I forgot about them. I forgot I put cookies in the oven. How does that even happen?"
Louis' lips twitch up knowingly. "I think they call that pregnancy brain, baby." He smooths his hands up and down Harry's back, brushing his lips gently against the omega's temple.
or
harry's first trimester has been hard; louis just wants to make it easier.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
louis is the big spoon cause he’s so protective of his loved ones, he loves giving hugs, he’s a big hugger, he always sits like he's inviting someone in his embrace and harry is the little spoon cause he always makes himself smaller and nuzzles into other people’s arms, wants to be held, wants to feel secured and told he’s loved, i’m going to cry
— this easy thing of sacrifice
for the @momrry-ficfest (last snippet before posting begins!)
subscribe to be notified | ficpost
“Baby…”
Harry opens his eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks fiercely. With a weak shake of his head, he blubbers, “Don’t call me that either.”
“Why not?” Louis breathes.
Stubborn, Harry shakes his head.
“Tell me,” he insists.
“When you call me baby, it makes me feel alive again," Harry whispers. "Like it's just me and you and no one else exists. No one I've hurt, no one who needs me."
Louis frowns. Fear still etched into his heart, he doesn't know what to do to solve this.
"You're my baby."
"After everything I've done?"
"I... I don't know, Harry." He admits, "You need to talk to me."
"I'm your baby for the night." He breathes, weak hands grasping onto him. "Can I... be your baby for the night?"
He whispers it like it's something forbidden. Is love forbidden for monsters?
Looking at Harry, Louis doesn't think he could ever deny him anything. These feelings that have crept up on him are dark and obsessive. Louis felt their true nature when he tasted blood on his tongue and craved more; now, as Harry never denies the allegations. Still, Louis craves him. Wants more.
LOUIS LIKED A LARRY REEL
LOUIS LIKED A LARRY REEL
LOUIS LIKED A LARRY REEL
LOUIS LIKED A LARRY REEL
LOUIS LIKED A LARRY REEL
LOUIS LIKED A LARRY REEL
hilb
prince princess