[ONGOING/ON HIATUS] a story about opening up to new dynamics, an undealt past, a stolen ring, a psychotic ex, and an alluring young man with a peculiar taste in beverages. /// - an adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy and sunflowervolvimp3 collaboration - vampire!harry self-insert au (we like writing Y/N because it's more inclusive by allowing everyone to create their own mc in their head)

"Luke-" "Lorelei." Luke's tone was more firm than Lorelei had ever heard him use with her. "Jess and Willow, they are like 2 halves of the same person. They deserve each other." Lorelei stayed quiet as Luke leaned forward on the counter, his voice dangerously low. "You have ruined everything else for Willow. Let her have this one thing."

continuations of my citrine fic ----- u can find me on my tumblr moonchildstyles.tumblr.com

harry's a witch and its been a long time since he's been around anyone new, but there's no way he's getting y/n out of his head ----- this is one of my series from my tumblr moonchildstyles.tumblr.com thank u sm for reading!!

"Tell me about the first person you ever loved." "I killed her." - Harry is found innocent in the eyes of the court of justice for the death of his girlfriend. But he feels more than guilty, and reaches out to a girl majoring in analytical psychology so she can analyze everything about his girlfriend up until the moment of her death. *trigger warning as the story does revolve around death* Highest Ranking: #694 in Fanfiction

SEQUEL TO MOONLIGHT "after everything that happened, describe what luke is to you in one word." "home." ©️ -lukeniall 2020 highest rankings: #7 lukehemmings

All Harry wanted to do was get over his ex-girlfriend, so he got under Ophelia. *This story contains mature and explicit content*

She found something, or rather someone, she never expected to find in her new room.

We're all mad here, it's Wonderland. ~ Harry latches onto my passionate on-beat arms as he keeps me from moving forward. "Are you fuckin' mad?" He grits through his teeth. "I'm in Wonderland, Pretty Boy," I throw my free arm in the air, motioning to the surrounding world. "Of course, I've gone a little mad." He flips me around as the level of infuriation rises throughout his clenched jaw, trying to remain composed. "Don't try and be something you're not, Presley." I rip away from his hold, furrowing my brows from the curt statement, the honest revelation that should've just stayed within his mind. "We'll never be the heroes, and you know that," he says, colder than the Arctic's towering waves. "We'll never win." We'll never find Purple. Purple, the color of the Star-Crossed Lovers.