Round 1
IS CLOSED
ALL NEW PROMPTS MUST BE MADE IN
ROUND 3 delicious /
flat view Rules?
- Keep the fourth wall intact! DO NOT tweet, email, carrier pigeon or use any other form of communication to send a link to this community or any of the fic posted here to any member of One Direction, their family, friends, or anyone in their organization. This is
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A/N: this fic is so random. i don't think it's what the anon wanted, and it's not a love story, and it's genderswap because i love genderswap, but other than that... maybe it's angst? i'm not sure. i'm not really happy with it, so maybe i'll rewrite it or do a sequel or something. i hope you enjoy anyway!
title from florence + the machine's hurricane drunk
her mother shouldn't have let her out of the house. she couldn't do anything, though, couldn't do anything but press her against her heart, whisper "be safe" and listen to her laughter resonate in her chest.
"be careful," she said, brows furrowed.
"ta," harry answered - a smile curled up at the edge of her mouth.
anne prayed something would take care of her now that she wasn't there - a star, the sky, or maybe a lone god, wandering aimless in the mortal turf, waiting for someone to bless.
*
she's the one your mother warned you about. she said, don't be that girl and don't fall for her, and maybe you didn't think that that girl had a mother too, ( ... )
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everyone wants her. people don't always like her, because she's not exactly likeable, more fascinating than nice, and people tend to watch from a distance with lust-filled eyes or confusion written all over their features. they wonder what she's thinking, and you want to say, there's nothing here. you're not sure there isn't - you're just bitter and spiteful, young, despite everything.
she's not a cheerleader. she's not in any club, except a band outside school, white eskimo. sometimes she talks about it excitedly, flailing her hands. the sun catches in her hair. you don't love her, but you want her so much it burns.
every time you're at a party, she sits on your laps and squirms. she sends you those little grins she knows drives you crazy. (but you also see her when she's helpless, drunk off her ass and saying the same stupid shit, all grabbing hands clenched around air).
it's the same thing every time you look at her, wantwantwant coursing under your skin, the arousal, and you disgust yourself for wanting her, because you ( ... )
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she's going to get you. maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not this year, but she's going to get you someday, catch you unaware and press her lips against yours as you struggle to say something, anything that will make her go away.
you wonder how she will turn out, and you know what you want her to become, but you can't help but think beautifully, because there is something about her that the others won't let go to waste. you know it. your mother calls you and she knows about harry now, and she jokes about it. you maybe like harry. it's not good. it feels bitter.
and even if you have her someday (but you won't have her, she'll have you), you'll only be one pearl on her necklace of lovers, the tiny sapphire between onyx-zayn and opal-liam that's she'll let fall into the river when she crosses the pond because she has too much gems her hands aren't enough to hold. spoiled little girl, you think. (it's a mistake, but everything you do about her is ( ... )
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oh man, oh wow.
this...this is far above and beyond the words that i normally reserve for things i approve of, so if the subsequent blabbering doesn't make much sense, forgive me.
i can SEE her, i can see the way she moves and her smile, laced with secrets, i can feel her taking my breath away, out of jealousy or adoration, i'm not sure, but she's so real it's unbelievable ( ... )
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your comment is spectacular. i'm obsessed with girl!harry, so i'm glad i could make you as obsessed as me... as for second-person pov, it is tricky, so if it worked for you, that's such a big victory : )
special mention for 'commend'. i'm obsessed with words, and that's a beautiful word. solemn and, you know? anyway. rambling.
(feel free to rant. it's the type of rant that makes me smile and stare at my screen wondering how i am so lucky to have people who like what i write).
so, thank you for liking this ♥ i don't know how to answer because this feels so heartfelt and sweet and just, i love the english language and poetry and love and i'm so happy that i can make this love into something someone calls poetry, because there isn't anything that could be more complimentary and sweet.
thank you.
ps: haha. *waves back* i rarely anon, so. hi. nice to meet you. don't feel stupid. (love the expression 'christ on a bike', btw. it's so charming.)
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