#i always felt there was just something... off??? about the dialogue flow in the confession after talking to araj

[cherryrainn]

Hey think you could a Female human lesbian reader who dates Verosika before discovering she’s a demon and stays with her cause she loves her, overall it’s a sweet relationship. Eventually she starts sharing her with her girls which becomes a poly romantic relationship. If not that’s fine. Have a nice night.

━━ ✧ 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

─ ✩ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; verosika + reader (female)

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; omg i love verosika so much thank you

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none

in the bustling city, you found yourself captivated by the charismatic and alluring popstar, verosika mayday. her sultry voice and magnetic stage presence had an undeniable charm that drew you in. little did you know that your life was about to take a thrilling turn.

the two of you met at one of her concerts. you were lucky enough to catch her attention in the crowd, and after the show, she invited you backstage. from that moment, your connection with verosika deepened. late-night conversations, shared laughter, and stolen glances fueled the budding romance between you.

as your relationship flourished, you couldn't help but feel a sense of completeness with verosika. she was a muse, a confidante, and, most importantly, your lover. but secrets have a way of surfacing, and hers was no exception.

it started innocently enough. verosika seemed a bit mysterious, always dodging questions about her personal life. yet, you brushed it off, thinking it was a part of her enigmatic charm. however, as the days passed, you began to notice subtle peculiarities—unexplainable occurrences that hinted at a hidden truth.

one evening, as the two of you cuddled on the couch, verosika hesitated before sharing a secret. "there's something about me you should know," she confessed, her eyes revealing a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

as she transformed into her full form, you were momentarily taken aback. the revelation was overwhelming, and your initial fear gave way to confusion and curiosity. verosika bared her true self to you, and in that vulnerable moment, you made a choice — to embrace her for who she was.

"i'm not just a popstar; i'm a succubus," verosika explained, her voice a mix of apprehension and longing. "i get if this is too much for you."

but instead of pulling away, you leaned in and whispered, "you're still the same person i fell in love with."

your acceptance marked the beginning of a journey into the supernatural. as you delved deeper into verosika's world, you discovered her fellow succubi — coco, apple, milky, and kiki.

the transition from a monogamous relationship to a poly romantic one was gradual but filled with love and understanding. verosika's girls welcomed you with open arms, their affectionate gestures and warm smiles erasing any doubts you might have had.

dialogues flowed freely in the shared moments between you and verosika's girls.

"i never thought i'd be a part of something so nice," you admitted one night, cuddled up with verosika and her girls. the room was filled with laughter, whispered confessions, and a profound sense of connection.

verosika, once competitive and mean-spirited, transformed into a pillar of love and support. her seductive powers were reserved for the stage, and in the privacy of your shared space, she became vulnerable and tender.

the city that had once seemed overwhelming now felt like a haven — a place where your unconventional love story unfolded against the backdrop of dazzling lights and the warmth of shared affections.

as the night deepened, verosika whispered words of gratitude, her eyes reflecting the love that had blossomed in the midst of the unexpected. you held her close, surrounded by the soft hum of the city, knowing that your journey with verosika and her girls was an extraordinary chapter in the book of your life.

verosika's voice was a gentle melody as she expressed her feelings, "i never thought i'd find someone who'd accept all of me."

coco chimed in with a mischievous grin, "love has a way of doing that."

kiki, with a playful wink, concluded, "who would've thought that a bunch of succubi and a human could make such a perfect, loving concoction?"

as the night unfolded, your hearts intertwined in a symphony of love and acceptance, creating a melody that resonated through the cityscape — a testament to the beauty that emerged when souls connected beyond the ordinary.

#VEROSIKA MAYDAY #helluva boss verosika #verosika x reader #helluva boss #helluva #helluvaboss #y/n #reader insert #x reader #ask #female reader #lesbians #polyamory #wlw

[isa-ghost]

Hi! I was wondering if you have any tips for outlining your story?

I’m trying to work on one, but it doesn’t really want to cooperate with me when I try to outline.

Do you have any tips for what works for you?

I would say don't force it, most importantly. You won't be satisfied and it won't come out great if your heart and mind just aren't in it. Get your inspiration and creative muse going first.

I genuinely don't know how the fuck I got my plot as fleshed out as it is, I got hella lucky it kept going. It was very fuck it we ball.

I will say, I often reread what I already had planned before letting my little brain movie continue.

I can picture things in my head really clearly, so basically my brain gave me a movie of the first 5 chapters and I just let it "yes and" itself until it just kept going. Or I got specific scenes that popped into my head and then wrote from where I left off and pushed things in a direction that could make the scene true in a way that made sense and flowed well.

From there, I knew I needed to resolve conflicts I'd established ("how does Phil get EK out of his body?"), come back to certain plot points I'd planted the seeds of ("so how is Phil doing while the group is planning his rescue?"), or cover "well what's going on with x during this time?" type stuff ("how is Missa taking care of the kids on his own while this is all going on?"). So over time, I'd make sure to either devote a whole chapter or just a scene to cover the thing, whatever length felt right.

As soon as I get a rough idea of what major points I want to cover, the rest comes organically as I'm writing. For example, in Chapter 3, I did not plot the Pissa date thoroughly. My plan said "fluffy distraction date, but hes hallucinating," and eventually "Phil hallucinates an enderman which exposes he's not doing well so he confesses everything to Missa bc he can't bring himself to lie to him." I didn't plan them visiting an event venue, going on a picnic, taking pictures, anything casual they talked about before that point. I let it come out in the moment and allowed the pieces to just fall into place because over-planning something can sometimes choke the life out of it.

Though that could just be what works for me because I'm taking over a decade of roleplaying skills and fitting them to a fic. A lot of the scenes I write come out the same way I'd start a roleplay. You can see it most in the start of a chapter, because both require setting the scene before puppeting the character(s) within it.

And obligatory mention that the process isn't always linear, flowing perfectly, etc. Shit takes time and the first draft is not gonna be your last, even if only a single detail changes later. Don't expect perfection the first time, you'll limit yourself and you won't be satisfied later. It could straight up kill your motivation to write the thing at all. I've deleted whole paragraphs of text in chapter 4 because even though they were written beautifully, it wasn't what I wanted or didn't match my plan.

So basically:

Ride as long as you can on the initial idea. Milk as much Where Does This Go / What Happens Next from it as possible

Play to your strengths when writing. If you're good at describing setting or atmosphere, go nuts. If you're good at writing dialogue, weaponize that. Whatever you're best at writing, lean into that and it'll make your story shine.

Keep the things you need to conclude satisfyingly in mind. Figure out how you want to resolve the conflict(s) you've started, then steer the plot in that direction however you see fit. If you establish certain things, decide if you Need or Want to actually write it out rather than imply it happening/being done/whatever.

Make sure the events that connect two plot points together flow well and make sense, but leave room for improvising because things that unfold organically are important in order to avoid having a plot feel too "mechanical" so to speak. Not to mention things that miraculously fall into place and just fit in perfectly are super rewarding and motivating.

Don't be precious with your ideas. If something doesn't fit, suck it up and delete it (you can always copy/paste it elsewhere to keep it in case it works later on, or you're just so damn proud of what you wrote that you don't want to banish it to the void). Chances are when you rewrite the scene or steer it in a more logical direction, you'll write something you like even more. If you don't, sometimes sacrifices must be made and you can refine the new thing until it's to your liking as many times as you want. OR you can commit to the new thing you wrote, but make sure to make all the changes to your plot and such necessary to have that thing make sense and flow well with the rest of what you're writing.

And very important: If you're writing for something that has a Canon, make sure what you're doing makes sense for the character. Don't have a "he would not fucking say that" / "he does not have the emotional intelligence for that" (HUGE ONE. Modern fandom has a massive problem with bitching about characters not communicating, but if the character would not spill their guts to someone, don't fuckin do it!! Miscommunication sucks, but lack of communication is a device that often benefits plot and creates conflict necessary for an interesting story!!) / etc moment. Dig into the character's brain and understand how they work, take what you know about how they are in situations and in general and apply that. Binge read character analysis for help, your best resources are your fellow fandom mates who are insane about their little guys. Consult them if you can't find any analyses, they'll write you a whole essay often times. Characterization is extremely important and many readers just straight up won't read your thing if you're butchering their special guy. For example, Phil is deeply allergic to sharing his burdens and hates the idea of putting his friends in danger. Obviously I'm not gonna have him venting to anyone who'll listen that he's being possessed by a god they don't even know of and that he needs their help. Even when you're writing an AU, that will rarely ever make the character's canon way of being irrelevant, you just have to think about how those traits would look in your universe/specific situation. There's still even more nuance to this I won't cover, but just keep in mind that writing a character accurately matters!

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #qsmp #<- for fellow qsmpers who plan to write stuff

[citylighten]

Hello! I've been reading Sink or Swim, and I am absolutely enthralled in the depth of your writing. Which brings me to my first of several questions... How long have you been writing? I find Pietro's backstory personality very complex. How he presents himself... Handles obstacles... It's intriguing. How long did it take to create Pietro's... well... life? Did you have to do a considerable amount of research? And for my last question, how long does it take you to caption a scene? Are you editing the dialogue right until you post?

HELLO~!

First off thank you for this message! I'm very happy you're enjoying the story!

In regard to your first question: I began writing at a young age. So young, that my earliest memory of writing is sitting on my grandmother's lap and telling her exactly what to write down in Microsoft Word. (I figure these were probably stories about Simba the Lion) Eventually, I told her I wanted to figure out how to use Word on my own and the rest is history. But yeah, I've always been big on writing and reading, there was always a story of some kind in my head. By the time I was ten, I was on FF.Net posting very shitty fanfics. But that's the thing about writing, you know? The more you do it, the more you read, the more you even do something like observe films and shows for the narrative value rather than strictly looking at it as entertainment the better of a writer you become. I also made the decision back in high school to become a journalist (something I don't think I want to be anymore, but I digress) still, having the responsibility of writing about real events, or about real people, definitely influenced my writing, as well. Especially when it comes to the way people speak or may explain something.

Admittedly, writing a story in the mafia genre isn't easy. A lot of research is involved (ranging from reading biographies to just watching films, but I also love the video game Mafia because their worldbuilding is pretty good😂) and I often take mental notes of things so I can understand/apply similar topics with my characters.

In regard to your second question: We've hardly scratched the surface of who Pietro is as a person! I planned to do a few edits of him as a kid as well as a "mini-story" of how he ran away from home at sixteen but I haven't gotten around to it yet.

Pietro is a very new oc - he was made this year, so understanding him/developing him has been a push-and-pull process. Before Sink or Swim started, he was originally meant to be way more antagonistic, but then I found myself liking him. I thought of Pietro and Rosie hooking up and the drama that could entail of, but then I thought, "what if this guy cared about her?" And boom, I found myself jotting out a bunch of outlines and concepts.

However, because Pietro isn't born in America...er, Simerica, I've found myself reading about Sicily a lot. Since I view that as the real-world counterpart to Tartosa. The norms, the lives of farmers, the way organized crime functions there because Pietro's family suffered greatly due to the local mob. But that's all I'm saying about that!

In regard to your third question: Captioning a scene can take forever. I'm not sure why because all I do is copy-paste pre-written text. But the time it takes to write out a scene can vary depending on its length, relevancy, and tone. Small talk is horrible to write, just plain horrible. Banter is usually quick. But when you have scenes like Rosie reading Pietro's email - that took forever because not only am I writing out Sheila and Pietro having a serious conversation, I had to write out the details of the email. Similarly, in my last post, when Pietro more or less confesses that he's an affiliate of the mob: that conversation took three rewrites before I felt it was good enough to put on caps. The first conversation draft was rough, I kept zoning out. The second was a little easier, but I found myself rearranging the conversation to better flow. And the third edit was the easiest because it was like I was 'smoothing' things over and ensuring the flow was decent. Sometimes though, once I paste dialogue onto a cap I do slightly tweak it to correspond with the expression the sim has. But again, thank you for all these questions! I enjoyed answering them!

[wonwoonlight]

I hope I'm not too late to the game, but I just wanted to share my two cents about your writing as a fellow carat writer in a similar boat! I also don't write smut for similar reasons and I've talked to other writers about it before. Frankly, I do think it plays a role in the reason we have the audience we do. That said, I don't think there's anything wrong with it either! You should write what feels right and comfortable for you. I can't speak for everyone, but I don't think it's ever expected that you shift in that direction either - if you do, great! If you don't, also fine! If we all wrote the same genre on caratblr, it would get really boring fast 😅 and our audience is vast. We need a little mix of all sorts of writers.

Personally, I really enjoy your writing because of the subtilties in the characters' relationships. The gestures are never too big, but never too small - just enough to show us how much the gist/antics of each character and how they get along, whether it be the main couple or side characters. Off the top of my head, for example, in 'by the moon,' it was clear to me that Seungcheol found so much value in the MC even if he didn't say or do much - it's the way he looks at her, the way he tenses up when Wonwoo gets hurt because he knows it'll hurt MC. Writing smut is one way of showing love, but it's also not the only way. They communicate well (when they need to LOL) and you explain their feelings so simply, but eloquently. It's easy to read and easy to understand. In particular, as someone who struggles with writing the emotions of the MC (I'm very emotionally constipated LOL), I've always admired this about your work - as a reader, you understand where the MC is coming from and it's as if you're living in their head, watching the whole thing play out. You get frustrated because you know what they feel and you know what's right for them, but you can't do anything to help them.

I also think your stories flow very smoothly, especially the dialogues! There never feels like there's a 'hole' in the plot. I'm guilty of this myself, but sometimes when series go on for too long, certain storylines amidst the main one gets lost and it leaves people scratching their heads. It's satisfying when I finish reading your stories. As for the dialogues, they're never cheesy or overdramatic, especially when it's very easy to make them so. For example, in 'My Daisy,' I still vividly remember when Mingyu confesses to MC and asks if he's a candidate as her boyfriend - bruh, so smooth and so slick! Men could never IRL!!! LOL jk jk. I like to pride myself on not being able to flustered easily, but it's safe to say, that stole my heart yo- again, it was smooth without being corny.

Along the same lines, your writing is very mature and realistic to the struggles of young adulthood. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but as an older fanfic reader/writer, high school!au's and even some uni!au's are hard for me to relate to being out of that phase of my life for a while now. Even though I'm still in school for a post-grad program and not working yet, the insecurities of dating your own co-worker/boss, speeding into a relationship when you thought you were a F2L kind of gal, etc - those were very real for me and I felt understood when reading 'My Daisy'!

This is getting long - I'm so sorry 😭 To wrap it all up, I would honestly read anything you put out in the future! You're one of my favorite writers on here and it's always a treat to read your work. However, I also know that's not helpful lol, so I'll hop on the zombie apocalypse train with knitwit anon 😂 I'm also a sucker for historical/sageuk!au's - I've read a couple of really good BTS and EXO ones, but I'm waiting to find THE right one from caratblr! LOL. A lot can go wrong in a love triangle 🤔, but I'm here for those too 😂 All these are romantic ideas . . . I'm not sure if you're looking to write those again or not, but just something to consider - it's nbd if you take these suggestions or not!

Don't doubt yourself too much, Khione! I know it's not much coming from me, but you're a really great writer and each and every one of your longer fics have been worth the wait💙

P.S. I know I wrote a lot 💀 so please don't feel obligated to reply to anything or anything at all! Just food for thought :) Get well soon!

I just wanna say I never expected anyone would spare the time, come into my ask, and write anything as long as this telling me all sort of things about what they feel abt my writing so let me cry in a corner as i imprint this into my mind to the point where i can recite it in sleep 🥲😭😭

tbh, i... always think i'm bad at expressing what my characters are feeling. like... am i repetitive? didn't i use this expression a few paragraphs ago? didn't i write smth like this in previous works?

there's always doubt in my head about how i describe things.

so to read all of this.. to know that you, as a reader and a fellow writer, think of my works this way, it gives me comfort beyond measure😭😭 i genuinely felt like crying when i read the parts where you pointed out certain scenes on top of your mind; like, wow, you remember those??? you have a certain thought regarding them?????

let me sob in a corner

and don't worry about what i'm looking for! i was just looking to see what my readers have in mind, a little survey while i have the time. so, definitely noted! i can't imagine myself writing a historical au tbh, but we'll never know, right? 😉😉 and perhaps it is time that i write a brutal love triangle, a full brown drama once in a while wouldnt hurt right 😉

thank you again holly for considering me one of your favorite writer jshdfbhjsdbf will cry myself to sleep as i think abt ur ask tonight <///3

#i cant believe you did this to me <///3 #i do not deserve this at all 😭😭 #holly🥴💙 #my beloveed #ask #my starlights❄

[kn1fprty]

Short film for reading week

The short that caught my eye was "Proxy" by Sophia Banks, as it is a sci-fi story by a female director. I came into it expecting a fresh look at futuristic topics and some interesting creative decisions in the "sci-fi" element, as I assumed a short wouldn't have a massive budget. And came out mostly disappointed.

The main character is a "proxy" called Victoria -- a worker who can act as someone who their clients want to talk to in order to settle psychological issues or process grief; a "replacement" for the real-live loved one, enemy, etc. It's revealed that the job isn't a pleasant one, but sometimes dangerous and degrading. In an off-script conversation with one of the clients Victoria confesses that she does the job to "feel something", which later leads to her snapping and killing another proxy she hires.

While on the surface the plot seems quite compelling, Victoria's motivation is hard to understand. Who is she outside her work? Why does her work make her "feel something" and her life outside being a proxy doesn't? And, most importantly, why does she murder? As a guilty pleasure, I enjoy reading about true crime, and the most intriguing question is always what is it that pushes one to murder, and I didn't find it motivated in any way in "Proxy".

The visual of the film was much more appealing than the story, but not without a perceived fault. There were two incredibly beautiful shots that caught my attention on the first watch. In the first one, I love the expanse of the counter in the composition, and in the second one -- how the ripples reflect on the roof.

Some shots I found...weird and as if I couldn't find an explanation for myself as for why are they framed like this or what is the emotional connection between the angle and the content.

In this one, the space behind the chair feels very out-of-place. This entire shot just disrupts the flow of the edit.

In this one, the proxy plays a man's deceased wife and they are slow-dancing while having a conversation about what could have been. Even though the scene turns sinister in the end, this angle felt unnatural in the context, even though I understand that it could have been foreshadowing what's to come.

However, the casting and the acting were very believable despite the fact that I didn't believe in the story at all.

After watching "Proxy" I decided to have a look at the other works by Sophia Banks and gave a watch to another sci-fi short "Unregistered", and found it profoundly disappointing as well; mostly for the very naïve story, wonky dialogue and characters, who once again didn't have any reason to act the way they did.

Sophia Banks has a feature film coming out in the near future and I don't think I will be interested in watching it.

[casualavocados]

bad buddy does such a good job at making everything feel real, and i want to talk specifically about the dialogue. every character interaction is so natural and built off emotion that it never feels obviously scripted. sometimes in shows there are lines that feel like a plot point is being dropped, like, "oh, that was a hint," and it never really feels that way in bb? it feels much more like you're an observer of a private conversation that only those involved in will truly understand, and some lines and scenes won't become clear until a rewatch (or several) later.

pat and pran's lives, and the story itself, are built through so much nuance that goes right over the audience's head without us realizing it. there are lines that seemingly don't match with what was previously said, but the characters follow quickly. everything has so many complex layers of emotion and meaning.

i could go on and on about good writing and good acting but honestly, genuinely, how do they do that? every word is carried through and touches the rest of the story. nothing feels unimportant, or like it doesn't fit.

even the simplest things, like mentions of pran's transfer in ep1, went right over my head the first time through. other examples such as in ep1 when pran's mom asks him if he's payed for the dorm yet, coupled with the scene two eps later where pran says he saved up and payed for his guitar himself, right after he calls pat's family "flexible". a random vendor saying to pat "iced tea for someone so icy" in ep1. the entire ep4 micellar water scene is some of the most naturally flowing dialogue i've ever heard. the ep2 argument where pat said it was peaceful without pran but refuses to let pran twist that into saying pran was the cause of his difficulties, coupled with "it was so depressingly lonely for me". pat thanking pran for saving pha in ep6. the way it appears that pran set up the confession on the stairs in ep10, got his whole faculty involved, but it's never confirmed outright in words. the entire ep7 rooftop scene. ep4's "here, less sweet." vs ep9's "but i ordered less sweet". don't get me started on "good luck, buddy".

there are parallels upon parallels and metaphors upon metaphors and all of it is an inside joke between the characters, between the show and the audience, and none of it is annoyingly repetitive.

and it's not just pat and pran. every single character, everyone on the side, felt like real people just living their lives rather than people put there to further the plot. like this feels like a cheesy tumblr quote to say this, but it's really like how every single interaction you have leaves a mark on you. every conversation with someone else throughout the series allows pat and pran to further develop themselves, not because it's something they're meant to do for the story, but because its a natural part of being human to reflect and act, sometimes unconsciously, in different ways depending on the person you're with. so much of it is unintentional, which is what makes it so real, and also not boring. even those characters with actions you may not like or agree with never feel out of the blue - always have deeper, and understandable meanings to them.

i think a lot about how, just by existing, people like uncle tong and junior and his mom left lasting impressions on pat and pran. there's even a line in ep11, when the obvious reminders of their own situation are hanging over their heads, where pat says "that's someone else's business, let's talk about ours." i really liked that. it drew a line separating the two scenarios, but there was still a lasting impact on pat and pran.

this kind of got off track actually but the point is as a story it really feels familiar. not because we've gone through the same things pat and pran have, but because we've all experienced every emotion they show to us on screen, through every seemingly unimportant detail. everything works so well, especially in the moments where it's not obvious why. and i love to pick through the details and find the exact reasons a scene works the way it does.

#julian watches bb #bad buddy series #im literally just rambling i hope it rains more later i think i need to go outside and stand in it #long post #and like. obviously it's not just the dialogue #its the acting and the portrayals and the writing #even the way the characters move tells so much about them. #it's so wild to see. like it's just a romcom but also thank you miscellar for your tags one this #bc its also a character study #and the entire way this show is structured is so airtight #everything is so intentional #and its exactly part of why this show is such a joy to rewatch bc everything you discover just makes it stronger #its really about how every character that crosses their path #never intentionally tries to drive them together or the plot forward #theyre all just people living their lives and having those lives brush against other peoples #connecting and separating over and over again #its incredibly done. it makes me want to knoq more about everyone

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

in which you and harry meet again after six months.

a/n: hiiii! this is for @theharriediaries fic challenge! the photo used is the one on the left of the banner, and the dialogue i chose was ‘Is this seat taken?’ ‘By you, I hope.’ & ‘I’m sorry it took us this long.’ thank you for creating this challenge, soph!

thank you @sunflowers-styles for beta reading this for me, mwah! <3

WORD COUNT: 12k of dad!harry with slight angst and fluff (pls appreciate the dilfrry dialogues in this lmao)

COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘THE TRAIN RIDE BACK TO US’ I’d love to know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

The gold bell chimed quite loudly, informing the baristas that someone had entered their shop. The aroma of fresh ground coffee beans immediately filled your senses once you pushed open the sage green door as the smell feeling of nostalgia and comforted you. 

Everything looked the same in the coffee shop. The oak wood floor never changed with coffee stains in certain areas that didn’t quite seem to come off all the way, no matter how hard the employees scrubbed—but it gave the shop character, in your opinion. Different colored potted plants filled the shop in every corner and on the clean white windowsill, making the place look lively. Crisp oxygen mixed with Columbian coffee beans flowed around the shop, making customers want to come back to a comfortable environment. Black and white bistro tables sat within the café, with silver metal bases, holding the circular table tops up as they alternated with colors along the built-in brown bench against the light-gray colored wall; with matching black and white metal chairs that practically screeched against the oak wood floors when someone was trying to scoot in or out of the table. 

The entire shop was the exact same from what you remembered it to be six months ago. The only difference was that when you sat on the wooden bench, specifically at the black table in the corner that was right next to the window, the person who was supposed to be in front of you wouldn’t be there; and for that, your heart dropped a little. 

Trying not to think too much about your change of mood, you ordered your usual—an iced mocha latte with a pump of sweet vanilla syrup—before you paid and turned around to see which tables were available. The usual corner table was staring right at you, practically mocking you, and you wished that the table was occupied, but then you would’ve felt wrong sitting at a different table when yours was clearly open. 

You took your seat on the bench, and almost immediately, you started shaking your leg underneath the table. Your seat felt hot, as if the wood was catching fire underneath you, burning your legs and making you antsy. 

Luckily, the shop wasn’t crowded so it took the baristas less than six minutes to make your drink and to call out your name from behind the counter. Quickly, standing up from the burning hot seat, you made your way to the counter, thanking Mel for the drink. Since coming here, you had become quite a constant in the cute Portland coffee shop. Mel was one of the employees that had worked at the shop the longest, so she made everyone’s drinks because she knew the menu the best. So, you caught up with her a bit, and inevitably, she asked where you had been. 

“You didn’t find a better coffee shop did you?” She teased, making you chuckle. 

“No, I’ve just been, uh, too busy to come around. But I promise, your drinks and shop are still the best,” you said truthfully, to which she beamed. To this day, you hadn’t found a superior coffee shop than ‘Coava’ because the others just didn’t compare—they didn’t make you feel the same way you did with this one. “But thanks for the coffee.” You gave her one last smile before you turned around to make your way back to your table. 

And then the bell chimed. 

It was as if the sun was peeking out through the clouds; the sun beams strongly pointed down onto the wet pavement after a night of rain, leaving the air with its pleasant smell of petrichor. He was the light that seeped through the curtains, and you knew it was going to be a lovely day. 

“Harry…” you stopped in your tracks, careful not to spill the contents of your coffee cup. Your heart skipped several beats once he flashed you his gorgeous smile that you were still hopelessly in love with. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry mindlessly played with the buttons of his coat as he mentally tried to situate the nerves in his head and stomach. His breath felt like it was stuck in his throat, making his voice slightly trail off with a crack to the tone. 

It felt like the two of you were the only ones in the coffee shop—minus the locals who were sitting at the tables, minding their own business, or wondering what the fuck they were doing standing in the middle of the shop—completely and fully captured by the other’s stare and presence. 

The loud screeching noise of steam took you out of your dazy trance as you cleared your throat. Harry looked down at his feet before looking up at you through his lashes, shyly intertwining his hands behind his back. 

“Uh, would you like to join me?” 

Harry raised his brows at your proposal, pursing his lips to contain his giddy excitement. “S-Sure.” You took a deep breath before you started to walk towards the table in the corner—one he was also very familiar with. “This seat...Is this seat taken?” He asked politely but, almost instantly, mentally cursed himself because you wouldn’t have invited him if you were with someone. 

You didn’t catch his slip up, instead, you smiled as your face grew warm. “By you, I hope.” Harry blushed, taking a seat on the black metal chair across from you. 

“So, how’ve you been? It’s been a while since I last saw you,” you mentioned. 

It’d been six months since the last time you saw and sat in front of Harry—a very long six months. The conversation six months ago wasn’t the most happiest of memories because that  conversation brought in the heartache and heartbreak; the chat had included the mutual separation of your relationship that involved tears, chest pain, and as always, the smell of Colombian coffee that surrounded your afflictive conversation, hoping it would calm the tension between you two. 

“Yeah, it has been a while, but I’m doing okay. How are you?” 

“I’m good.” There was a bit of awkwardness swirling in the air, and you absolutely despised it—you wanted it to leave the shop and never return. You had always imagined what it would be like bumping into Harry again, more importantly, what you would say to him. And despite all those moments daydreaming of finding the right words, you were completely stuck, and you fully blamed it on the awkward tension. “Can we not be…y’know, awkward? That’s not us,” you simply said. 

Harry let out a sigh of relief, adding a breathy laugh. “Yes, yes, of course. You’re right, that isn’t us at all.” Mel brought him an iced black coffee since it was his usual, and she saw that he didn’t get the chance to order because he was immediately occupied by the sight of you. He softly thanked her with a smile, only taking his attention off of you for a split second before his eyes were right back on you; he didn’t know what this conversation would lead to, nor did he want to get his hopes up, so that meant spending every moment with his complete attention and eyes averted to you. “I miss you…” he said. 

There was a sense of relief as you exhaled deeply, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was missing the other. His words had brought a flutter of butterflies to your stomach, soaring as they pleased while your face felt warm. 

You and Harry had been together for a year and a half before calling it quits. For most of the relationship, it was happiness and bliss—occasional fights, but they weren’t frequent—towards the last few months however, things were getting a bit stressful. You remembered the days like it was yesterday as the vivid memory crept inside of your head...

It was nearing nine in the evening and the house was quiet. The silence was louder than the ongoing noise inside your head that was constantly yelling at you, making your head ache from the incessant thoughts. It was safe to say that you weren’t happy, and that even Harry wasn’t happy either. But you had only gotten a glimpse of him during the evening, so you were simply assuming that he wasn’t content—but it was a very logical assumption since every time he looked at you, it seemed like he was becoming more stressed out by the minute; as if he didn’t already have a lot on his plate during the day, and by night, he would still have to deal with whatever argument and fight either of you would pick for no apparent reason. 

It started with petty little arguments, getting annoyed and frustrated at the other because of burnt toast or something as small as running out of detergent for the laundry. But fighting over nothing had turned into completely confessing that you weren’t happy anymore, and that the exhaustion had gotten to you. 

“I-I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Harry,” you said in between your sobs that you tried to contain. “All we’re doing is hurting each other—we’re not even happy together anymore!” 

It felt like his heart was exploding, but it was the truth. “Darling…” 

“You can’t lie and tell me that we’re happy together because it’s obvious that we’re not.” You wiped the tears from your face, leaving your skin damp from the moisture. 

Harry sighed deeply, knowing he couldn’t argue anymore. He felt defeated and upset with himself; it was like he was doing well in everything else or at least trying, and he couldn’t even do his part in being a good boyfriend to you. He knew part of the reason why both of you weren’t happy was because of the neglectance, and both of you were too exhausted to even communicate that feeling. You two were both independent entrepreneurs—always knowing when to close business and how to make a well deserved investment or sale with others who were trying to buy whatever stock or product. But when it came down to each other, to Y/N and Harry, it seemed like the individuals that were trying to please and charm others had dissipated, leaving no room or patience for each other. 

“We’re both busy, Harry, I get that. And maybe it’s best if we call it quits until everything settles down—until we both know what we want—”

“I want you,” he interrupted. 

You softly huffed, looking down at your lap as you slightly nodded before you looked up at him again. He had tears streaming down his face and more forming in his eyes; you loved that he wasn’t embarrassed or afraid to show his true emotions—he was being vulnerable every time he let his guard down, and for that, you would appreciate him forever. 

Muffled, static cracks followed by quiet little groans were heard from the baby monitor on the coffee table. Harry glanced at it before looking back at you, knowing he had to take care of his number one priority, and who were you to stop him? So, you nodded, tilting your head towards the room, and he sadly smiled before heading towards the nursery. 

You walked over to the kitchen counter, grabbed a pen and paper, and wrote ‘Meet me at Coava tomorrow. Usual time.’ before you placed it on the coffee table beside the monitor. As you were leaving, you heard soft humming coming from the baby monitor, and your heart squeezed, frowning as this was most likely going to be the last time you were going to be in this house. Taking one look around, you took in all of the memories that you made in the building that made you feel safe and warm before you stepped out, immediately welcomed by the cool temperatures of the evening. 

The next afternoon when you walked into Coava, Harry was already sitting at the usual table you two sat at. His head was down, mindlessly wiping down the condensation that formed outside of his glass. You took a seat in front of him without saying a word, making him look up. He had dark circles around eyes as he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

“Hi,” you whispered. There was your usual cup of iced coffee placed in front of you. “Thank you for the coffee.” 

He nodded and smiled softly, despite his current mood. “Hello.” 

You took a deep breath. “So…where do we go from here?” 

Harry sadly looked at you with desperation in his eyes that spoke, no, begged you to tell him to stay, to tell him that you two could and would work this out. But it seemed like you hadn’t received that specific message from his green and sorrowful eyes. 

“You were right…We haven’t been able to make time for one another. So, we’ll just…take some time apart.” His heart and voice cracked at the end of his sentence, finding it hard to even form a sentence that didn’t absolutely break him. You nodded, agreeing, but it didn’t hurt any less; you knew this would be best for the two of you because both of you had to focus on yourselves, especially when Harry had his priorities, such as his family, which you weren’t going to make him change whatsoever. “Okay…so, we’re over.” He hadn’t said it as a question but rather a way to see that realization. 

You reached across the table, placing your hand on his, and you were lucky that he didn’t pull away. “Harry, this doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I…will always love you.” 

“And I’ll always love you too,” he said honestly. 

Behind the civil and mature conversation that occurred, there was sadness and heartbreak. There were no more smiles or laughs, no more love and affection, or anymore meet-ups during lunch or coffee dates during breaks. The painful look on Harry’s face had only pained you even more, but you both knew this split-up and time apart was for the best. 

That was six months ago. 

Now, as you sat across Harry, you felt an overwhelming rush of relief and joy; he just looked happier and you saw a familiar glint in his eyes as he looked at you. It may not be the same sparkle of love as it once was, which you were afraid it wasn’t, but there was still some kind of sparkle—the kind someone would give when they reunite with an old friend. 

“The kids miss you—they miss you a lot.” 

Your eyes look at him fondly at the mention of his children. “Really?” 

“Yeah, they do. They said, and I quote, they miss their ‘pretty fairy second mom,’” Harry said quite proudly. 

Harry had three kids that you absolutely adored. There was Mira and Estelle, seven-year-old twins that looked like their father. Mira was very energetic and talkative—that little girl could talk for hours on end without missing a beat; Estelle was more quiet and reserved, but once you started hanging around, she opened up and was quite fun to have a laugh with. Then there was the sweet little two-year-old boy, Rory, who resembled his mother. He was always babbling and giggling, so happy and free. 

If Harry was being honest, Rory was a complete accident. Him and his ex had separated and broken up when the twins were four, but they were still seeing each other. Those occasional hangouts led to another child, which they both thought would help them bond, but six months into the pregnancy, they both knew it wasn’t right anymore—not like before. So, they stuck to coparenting and, if they were speaking the truth, it was much better than being together. 

When Rory was six months old, that was when Harry met you. On an unexpected literal run in the park when you and Harry were on your daily runs, the trail was only narrow and small enough for one person to run. So, when you and Harry were running towards each other, you braced yourself for the awkwardness you were about to face with the man. Harry politely smiled, moving to his left, only for you to move to your right, which made you both giggle. The two of you then moved to the opposite side, only to clash again. The thought was quite hilarious to the two of you, so you both started laughing, clutching your stomachs. Once you two calmed down, Harry then said that he was going to his left, so you moved to your left, running the opposite directions from each other. 

At the end of the trail and on your way to the parking lot, you saw Harry finish the same trail but exit from the other side. And if it said anything more, you parked right next to his car as well. Harry smiled, dimples flashing and asked you how your run was, which then led to a bit of small talk. In the six minutes you two were talking, Harry made the impulsive decision to ask you if you would like some coffee. He wouldn’t have asked if it were anyone else, and until that moment he didn’t even know  if he was ready to date again. But he took the chance and decided to ask you, and luckily, you said yes. 

The rest was history. 

“I miss them so much too.” You smiled softly, thinking about the kids that you had thought of as your own. 

“I, uh, I know it’s too much to ask, but I figured I should ask either way…Would you like to see them? Mira would never live it down if I told them that I saw you and didn’t ask if you wanted to see them.” He added a chuckle at the end, nerves creeping up his skin. 

Your eyes lit up. “Really? You’d let me see them?” 

Harry raised his brows. “Yeah, of course! You could see them anytime you want, if you’d like. Just because we’re not, y’know, together doesn’t mean that you can’t see them. I know how much you love them and how much they love you too,” he reassured. 

“Would Laurie be okay with that?” You asked about his ex and the mother of said children. 

He nodded. “Yeah, she would. I mean, she also knows how much they love you.” Harry was lucky that the mother of his children and his ex was so kind and chill with having someone that Harry loved be ‘another mother’ to her children; all Laurie really asked of you was to not try and replace her role as their mom and to always keep them safe when she wasn’t around, and who were you to disrespect her wishes? 

“Harry, I would love to, thank you. I really do miss them.” You felt yourself getting a bit emotional because of how much you missed the kids, and it’d felt like an eternity since you last saw them. 

“Great! Tomorrow is the weekend, so are you free to go to the park and maybe get some ice cream after?” 

“Yeah, that sounds like a plan.” You smiled, not too widely as you tried to contain your excitement. 

Harry smiled back at you before quickly looking at his phone to check the time. “I gotta get back. But I’ll see you tomorrow and will text you the details tonight.” 

“Okay, see you soon.” You stood up to hug him, and his arm immediately wrapped around your waist, hugging you to his chest. His stomach was doing flips as he felt your breath against the crook of his neck. He didn’t want the moment to end, and it was the most physical contact that you two had in six months. 

Pulling away, he offered you a smile before bidding you goodbye, and you finally let out the breath you had been holding the moment the bell chimed and the man you still loved walked in. 

A soft blush was planted on Harry’s cheeks for the entire day. He was driving from work to Laurie’s house to pick up his beloved children as he thought about how his day turned out to be. 

In all honesty, he hadn’t expected to see you in the coffee shop that you two had gone to throughout the entirety of your relationship. He had just gotten out of a meeting and was debating on going to Coava because he hadn’t been there since the day you two called it quits, but he figured it was time and thought that maybe reminiscing on the memories you two had with each other wasn’t a bad thing. So, he walked into that shop thinking he was just going to get a coffee to-go, but he had gone in there and left with something so much better. 

The moment his eyes landed on yours his mind had screamed and reassured him that he wasn’t just dreaming that you were standing right in front of him, he felt his stomach drop in the best way. The heat had rushed to his cheeks, tugging on the corners of his lips, urging his mouth to smile, and he did not hold back his joy when he saw you. You were beautiful, just like he remembered, but he had no doubt that there wasn’t a day that went by where you weren’t not absolutely stunning. 

And the giddy feeling he felt when he asked you if you’d like to see the kids made his heart tumble inside of his chest as he couldn’t wait for you and the kids to finally see each other again. 

Harry pulled into Laurie’s driveway, and he quickly got out and knocked on the door, waiting for Laurie to answer. He chuckled as he could practically hear the twins screaming from across the house to make sure they had everything they needed. When the door opened, he was met by his ex that he once loved, and still had some platonic love for her, naturally, as the mother of his children. 

“Hey, Harry! They’re just getting their stuff ready,” she greeted with a smile, opening the door wider as she walked away from the entrance and let him in. She grabbed Rory from the couch, who was mindlessly playing with a giant puzzle piece, and gave him many kisses to his cheeks before saying goodbye to her son and handing him off to Harry. 

Rory’s eyes lightened up at the sight of his father. “Dada!”

“Hi, my sweet boy. I’ve missed you.” He placed soft kisses to his chubby and squeezable cheeks. 

“Girls, dad’s waiting!” Laurie called out from the bottom of the stairway before turning back towards Harry. “Why do you look like that?” She gave him a knowing look. 

“Like what?” Harry asked, acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about. The blush really gave him away, he thought. 

“You’re just…extra happy today.” 

“Can’t I be happy, Laurie? To see my kids?” He teased, smirking as he hugged Rory to his chest. 

“I mean, sure, but…did something happen today?” 

His smile widened, and it was like he couldn’t contain the exciting feeling anymore and he just had to tell someone. “I saw Y/N today.” 

Her brows raised. “Really? How is she?” 

“She’s doing well, yeah. We talked for a little bit.” Was all that he told her. 

“And I’m assuming it went well.” He nodded, not wanting to tell her more. “Well, that’s great, Harry. She was, is, a lovely woman and she took care of the kids, so that’s all that matters to me,” Laurie said genuinely; she wasn’t jealous, if she was being honest. All that mattered to her was that her kids were in good hands. 

Suddenly more footsteps were coming down the stairs. “Dad!” The twins yelled at the same time. He put Rory down for a moment before he bent down to hug his two girls. 

“Hi, my loves. How are you?” He kissed both of their cheeks, making their small arms hug him tighter. 

“Dad, I scored one hundred percent on all my spelling tests, so I’m qualified for the spelling bee!” Mira explained excitedly once she let go of Harry. 

“Really?! That’s amazing, bug. This week, I’ll help you study for it.” Mira beamed at that before walking over to her mom to say bye. 

“How are you, my sunshine?” He directly asked Estelle, knowing that she was specifically waiting for Harry to have his attention on only her. Even though she’d never told him that, he could tell that sometimes Estelle lets Mira have her moment and wanted to speak with Harry when no one else was paying attention. 

“I’m good. My teacher told me I could become a math…mathmat—daddy, what are they called?” She looked at Harry for help. 

“Look at you, sunshine! I’m so proud of you my little mathematician.” Estelle’s eyes widened. “Is that you meant mathematician, sweetheart?” He smiled. 

“Yes, that! I did good on my math test and even baked cookies for you!” Before Harry could say anything, Estelle ran off to the kitchen to grab the plate of cookies she baked last night. 

“Alright, babies, let’s go. Say bye to mommy.” The kids said their goodbyes before Harry safely buckled them into their car seats and drove home for a week at their father’s. 

When all four of them reached the front door, Harry told the twins to put their belongings away and wash up for dinner. He set Rory down in his high chair before cutting up some bananas in halves, and placing them on the plastic table in front of him for his pre-dinner snack. Knowing that his kids liked home cooked meals better than takeout, fortunately, he set out the ingredients to make some fried rice, which was quick and easy. 

The twins rushed down the stairs once Harry put the leftover rice into the pan filled with sautéed veggies, and they settled onto the couch in front of the TV, waiting for dinner.

“Loves, set the table for me, please!” He called out from the kitchen as he transferred the rice from the pan to a large bowl, topping it with green onions. The girls each had a task for setting the table; Mira was in charge of forks and spoons, and Estelle handled the plates since she was less clums. He rolled Rory’s high chair over to the table, which he was so lucky to have gotten a high chair with wheels because it was so much easier to move him without carrying him and the chair; and he gave everyone an equal scoop, depending on how much they ate, and if they wanted seconds, he would be glad to serve them more. 

As they ate, Harry was occasionally helping Rory eat the rice, just picking up the contents that didn’t make it into his mouth, as Estelle and Mira both took turns talking. Harry loved family dinner, he tried his very best to give all three of his children the attention that they deserved, but dinner was the one time they bonded the most because no one felt competitive or had the urge to start an argument when there was food in front of them. 

“Daddy, how was your day?” Estelle asked curiously, and Harry smiled at his sunshine, as if she was the sun itself, heart swooning. 

“It was great, thanks for asking, my love.” He placed his spoon on his plate. “I actually wanted to talk to you all about something.” The twins didn’t respond, just stared at him, encouraging him to continue. “Do you remember Y/N?” Just at the sound of your name, the crowd went absolutely wild. 

“Y/N, yes!” Screamed Estelle, which was rare for her to raise her voice. 

“Pretty, fairy second mom, of course we remember her, dad!” Mira exclaimed obviously. 

“Fairy!” Rory had repeated the only word he could make out from Mira’s mouth as he fussed because of the volume that had increased from his sisters. 

Harry laughed. “Alright, okay, settle down. Well, I saw her today.” The twins gasped, making him chuckle. It genuinely felt like he was on a talk show with a live audience. “And I wanted to ask you all if you wanted to see her tomorrow? Figured we could go to the park and get some ice cream together?” He asked hesitantly, even though he knew they’d say yes, and he’d get another chance to see you again. 

“Yes!” The girls both answered. 

Harry beamed, turning to Rory. “Bubba, remember Y/N? Your slide friend? Remember you used to go on the slide with Y/N?” Rory giggled, a sound that was Harry’s weakness, and nodded. “Do you wanna see her tomorrow?” 

“Slide with fairy?” Rory asked, and Harry laughed. 

“Yes, slide with fairy,” he confirmed, and Rory nodded his head eagerly. 

Harry smiled, glad his kids were with the plans tomorrow. The rest of the dinner was filled with the twins talking about you; they talked about what you all could do together at the park and what they wanted to show you, and Harry would be lucky if they slept through the entire night without continuously waking up because of their excitement for the upcoming afternoon. 

Once everything was cleaned up and put away, the twins washed and cleaned, Harry give Rory a bath, and everyone was ready for bed, Harry said good night to his babies, spending about five minutes cuddling and talking them to sleep until they fluttered their eyes closed and off to slumber. 

Sighing, Harry closed his door, leaving the baby monitor from Rory’s room on his bedside table before he was able to unwind for the day. He always spent an extra amount of time on his skin care routine, figuring that he sometimes didn’t have time for himself and the only time he had was during nights. 

When he was ready for bed, he felt a huge amount of relief to be getting into bed after a long but grateful day, and he picked up his phone and clicked on your message thread. The last time you two texted was a few weeks after the breakup, asking if you were doing okay, and he could practically feel the awkward tension through the texts as he reread them. But he was glad that this time would be a much lighter and better conversation. 

Hi, Y/N. Hope this is the right number still. But if it is, kids are on board for tomorrow. Does 12:30 work for you? We could meet at the usual park. If it’s not Y/N, please don’t meet at the usual park because the kids are not on board. 

You chuckled at the end of his text, happy to see that Harry is always trying to make jokes and be the comedian. 

Hi, Harry! Don’t worry, this is Y/N. Probably would have hunted the person with my number down to get tomorrow’s plans. But that sounds perfect! I can't wait to see the kids tomorrow. See you then! 

Harry softly smiled at his phone, not feeling the need to respond and figured he would talk to you a lot more tomorrow while the kids are playing. He stared at the message for quite some time, completely blank as he couldn’t believe the chances that he happened to see you at the shop six months after the breakup, and now he’s making plans with you tomorrow; his jaw was aching from smiling so much. 

A few minutes later, he put his phone away to change before he comfortably situated himself under the blanket, feeling the heaviness of his eyes. But once he felt himself starting to drift away into dreamland, his phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he tried his best to ignore it, but curiosity got the best of him, so he picked up his phone and opened the new message. 

And I can’t wait to see you tomorrow too.  

And just like that, Harry was wide awake, struggling to sleep, but a smile permanently etched on his face for the night. 

The day that everyone in the Styles’ household had been waiting for had finally arrived. Luckily, the kids had gotten their needed hours of sleep; Harry had only gotten a few hours of sleep, but when the sun seeped through his curtains, he didn’t dread getting up for the day. Instead, he felt a rush of eagerness, instantly remembering what the day held for him and his kids, and he jumped right out of bed. 

Once the four of them were out of the house, Harry had successfully fed, cleaned, and changed his children with no complaints. The house and car ride was filled with conversations about how excited they were to see you again, asking how many more hours there was until they got to see you and if they were almost at the park. 

Screams bounced off the roof of the car once Harry parked on the side of the curb; the twins had already taken their seatbelts off, getting antsy as they waited for their dad to open the car from the outside. Harry unbuckled Rory, carrying him until he rounded on the other side of the car to open the door for the twins. They quickly jumped out, clearly excited, but Harry did not forget to remind them that this was still a public area and anything could happen. 

“Girls, slow down, please.” Estelle was holding Harry’s hand as Mira was holding her sister’s; Harry was still carrying Rory in his arms because his sister’s were practically lugging Harry with all their might, trying to get to their usual spot, so he didn’t want Rory to get hurt. “Loves, you know Y/N would tell you the exact same thing. Please, just slow down for me.” He pulled the Y/N card on them, knowing that they were better listeners with you than they are with him. 

Once they were all close enough, they spotted a thick beige blanket under the tree with a picnic basket, and you sitting on top of it, setting everything up. 

“Y/N!” The girls both screamed, Estelle letting go of Harry’s hand as they both ran towards you. 

You looked up at the sound of your name, eyes brightening at the little girls running. “My Princesses! Hi, my loves!” You opened your arms widely, inviting the twins into your arms— they practically collided into your arms, making you fall onto your back since you didn’t get the chance to stand up—and embracing them with a big hug. Laughs came out of all of your mouths as wide smiles permanently stayed on your faces. “Oh, I missed you two so much!” You kissed both of their cheeks, making them giggle. You stood up, helping the girls up and brushed their clothes off with your hand from the grass. Harry and Rory were in sight, and Harry put the little boy down, making Rory run towards you. “My sweetheart, oh, you’ve gotten so big.” You hugged Rory to your chest, placing your hand behind his head as your other arm wrapped around his small body. 

You were glad that Rory still had some memory of you, and didn’t shy away behind his father’s leg. You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, taking in his baby scent that you always loved. 

After Rory was starting to fuss in your arms, most likely due to feeling overwhelmed from the lack of space, you let go of him before standing up. 

“Hi, Y/N,” Harry greeted, offering a hug, which you gladly took. 

You rubbed his back. “Hi, Harry. I’m so glad I’m here with you all.” You pulled away, smiling at him. Harry’s heart pounded against his chest at the sight of you smiling up at him. His heart did a backflip at the sight of your gorgeous smile, trickling all the way down to his stomach where it triggered the butterflies to release from the net. 

“Please, we were all really excited to see you. So, thank you for agreeing.” His hand innocently ran down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. 

You turned around to look at the kids who were making themselves comfortable on the blanket. You and Harry joined them as you sat in between Estelle and Rory, and Harry sat in between Mira and Rory. 

“Okay, so I made some sandwiches. You all still like grilled cheese, right?” You hoped, and the twins nodded; you turned towards Rory. “What about you, sweet pea? Grilled cheese?” At the sound of cheese, Rory nodded his head and clapped his hands, making you smile. 

Harry was so lost in his mind and heart that he was simply so distracted in helping you out as you unwrapped the sandwiches from the foil, putting them on a paper plate. He was just so fond of watching you interact with his children so naturally, like there was no time that was wasted when you and Harry were apart. And he was especially happy that the kids still loved you just as much as they did when you two were together; and how they still kept talking about you despite the breakup. 

Aside from you and Harry, the kids had taken the breakup the hardest. From the knowledge they had based on what Harry and Laurie told them, they understood that their mommy and daddy couldn’t be together anymore due to adult reasons; it took them a while to adjust to that, but they eventually managed and figured it was better and more fun. But when Harry had to break the news on why they wouldn’t be seeing their ‘Pretty Fairy Second Mom’ anymore, they took it harder than expected. They simply looked at it as you didn’t want to see them anymore, which wasn’t the case at all, Harry explained. 

“Sometimes adults need to take some time apart, loves. That does not mean that Y/N doesn’t love you anymore because she does very much, I can tell you that. But it's good to have some time to yourself, especially in a relationship.” 

“But daddy, I thought you were gonna be together forever with Y/N,” Estelle spoke up, tears in her eyes. He was lucky that his kids loved you so much, and he never doubted that they weren’t going to. But his fear had come true when you two called it quits and he had to tell them the truth. 

“And maybe we will, but as for right now, it’s best to be apart. Sometimes being apart saves the relationship rather than letting it burn,” he told them honestly, which was the best as he could explain it. 

“D-Does Y/N still love you?” Mira asked softly. It wasn’t like Mira to be so soft spoken, which meant that the breakup had affected her deeply. 

Harry sighed, grabbing both of their small hands. “She does,” he replied for the sake of more tears coming out of their eyes—plus, he was taking your word for it back at the cafe. “And she also loves you all so much too,” he reminded them again. What he really wanted to say was that maybe one day you two will get back together, but he really didn’t want to get their hopes up. 

Looking back on his conversation from half a year ago, he was glad that he told them the truth on why you two broke up. He didn’t want to confuse his children even further, making them completely oblivious to the situation—he just wanted to be honest with them because he hoped you two would meet again and get back together at some point. 

“Harry, would you like one?” You asked, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding, not trusting his voice to speak; and you gladly handed him a plate with a sandwich, pouring some chips onto the side—his favorite chips, you still remembered. 

“Thank you.” He smiled softly. The corners of your lips turned up as you bashfully looked at the picnic basket in front of you. You placed Rory’s plate in front of him as he seemed to have crawled to sit closer to you, and you cut out his sandwich into small pieces, along with cutting his grapes in half. “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” He stopped you from what you were doing, ready to take Rory from your side as he didn’t want you to feel obligated to take care of him.

“Oh, if you don’t want me to, that’s fine. But I wouldn’t mind feeding him a bit.” 

“If you want to.” 

You gave him the sweetest grin, and Harry was lucky to be sitting down because his knees would give out on him if he were standing. “I want to.” He only nodded, a crimson color laid on his cheeks. 

Harry comfortably watched as you made conversation with the twins as you fed Rory. You always gave them your undivided attention; your expression always lit up everytime they talked about something they were passionate about or interested in, and it just made Harry fall even more with how you were always so supportive in what his kids loved. You were always uplifting them, never dragging their hopes and dreams down. 

After everyone was finished with their meals and had time to digest their food, the twins asked if they could go on the swings and Harry said yes. The tree that they were under was only a few feet away, so Harry had a clear view of his girls. 

“You’re, like, a magician.” Harry suddenly said, breaking the silence once the girls were safely on the swing. 

You chuckled. “How’s that?” 

“It’s like hiring a magician at a party—everyone is so excited to see what they do and see them in general—you’re like that; the girls and Rory were so excited to see you.” 

You playfully gasped, holding Rory to your chest. “You were excited to see me? Well, I was excited to see you!” You booped his nose, making Rory giggle. 

“Fairy!” He exclaimed, and you and Harry laughed. Rory was a quiet two-year-old, but he picked up on keywords that he repeatedly said. 

“So, are you seeing anyone?” You cut to the chase, skipping the small talk.

Harry chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Nope. Not entirely sure if anyone wants to date a thirty-four-year-old with three kids.” 

You raised your brows in shock, and he knew that look you’re giving him very well—prepared to tease him; even though you weren’t that much younger than him either. “What? Do you think no one wants to date a hot dad? Harry, you’re peak-dilf, everyone wants to date you.” 

“And what about you? Do you wanna date me? A dilf?” He teased; a smirk that you knew all too well appeared on his face, making you want to kiss it off, which was what you used to do. 

Pursing your lips and cheeks heating up, you gave him an obvious look before you said, “Think you know the answer to that one, baby.” In all honesty, the pet name had slipped, and for a brief moment your eyes widened at the realization, but you brushed it off and continued with your confident and teasing attitude; and it worked quite well on Harry because he definitely heard what you used to call him loud and clear. It made his heart flutter as he missed you calling him that; he never wanted to hear that name come out of anyone else’s mouth because only yours would do it justice. 

Harry was left to ponder about your response before you changed the subject, talking to Rory. “Sweets, do you wanna go on the slide?” The little boy jumped up and down, pulling your arm as he had a big smile on his face. You looked at Harry, and he gave you a nod, telling you that he would stay put and watch your belongings. 

You and Rory walked hand in hand, or more like hand and finger, to the slide. It was an open purple slide with two sides, and it lasted about two seconds if you slid correctly and if the slide was slippery enough. You helped Rory step onto the playground as the dull metal steps were quite high for him to reach on his own before you guided him towards the slide. 

Sitting down at the top and on the edge of the slide, you carried Rory into your lap, hyping him up for what he had been waiting for. “Ready, sweets? Are you ready?” Your tone was pure excitement as you squeezed and tickled his belly. 

“Go, Y/N, go!” Directed Rory, and you scooted forward and held onto the sweet boy in your arms tightly as you two slid down the slide. Mouthfuls of squealing screams and giggles came from Rory’s mouth as he clapped his hands towards the end of the slide, causing you to cheer as well. 

And the proper dad that he was, Harry clicked the red button on the screen to stop recording you and Rory from the slide. He zoomed in, capturing the bright smiles placed on his sweet boy’s and the love of his life’s face, screenshotting the perfect frame. He didn’t think the day could have gone any better than this; it was quite the perfect day, he thought. 

When it was rounding two in the afternoon, Rory’s eyes were starting to droop, exhaustion taking over him from running around for almost an hour that his little body couldn’t keep up, so a nap was in his favor. He lazily looked up at you, reaching his arms up for you to carry him, which you happily held him. He settled his head on your shoulder, and it only took a few kisses and back rubs for him to be out like a light while the sun still shined in his face. 

You walked over to the blanket, figuring it was time to call it a day at the park; Harry and the twins were running around nearby on the bedded grass area playing tag. They retreated to the blanket once they saw you with Rory in your arms, breaths heavy from their run. 

“Oh, my sweet, sweet boy.” Harry sighed when he got to spot under the tree; you handed Rory to him, admiring the two boys cuddling as Harry pressed quiet and soft kisses to his son’s head. Since your lap was available, Estelle and Mira took the chance to finally be able to properly cuddle you since Rory was taking most of your attention. The girls took one leg each, and you wrapped your arms around their waist, kissing their shoulder. 

The five of you stayed put for a while, calming down under the breezy weather that had started to pick up until it got even colder was when Harry decided it was time to leave. Luckily the girls were still awake to help with cleaning up, and were rather helpful because Harry was trying his best with Rory situated on one side of his body. 

Once all of you were next to your cars, Harry placed Rory in his car seat as you were hugging the girls goodbye. You and Harry agreed that everyone was too tired to go out for some ice cream since all the twins wanted to do was lie down. Harry knew he didn’t want the day to end, even though it was still quite early, but the older he got, the tougher it was to keep up with his little children who just loved running around; a relaxing and peaceful night was calling him. 

“Hey.” Harry closed the passenger door before he rounded the car to meet you on the grass. “I know we talked about going for ice cream today, but it seemed like we’re all too tired, but I was wondering…” he paused for a moment, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. “Would you like to come over? Maybe…for dinner, or to have a glass or w-water?” He scratched the back of his neck, nerves getting the best of him. 

You smiled, thinking he was the absolute cutest when he was flustered. “Harry, I’d love to. Feels like I haven’t drank any water so I’m parched,” you teased. 

He breathed out a laugh. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you home.” He gave you another smile before walking away and inside of his car, completely unaware of his choice of words. 

Home. More specifically, Harry’s home. It was a place that made you feel safe, and if you’re being honest, it’s been too long since you’d had complete solace. 

Your mental pep-talk throughout the drive toward Harry’s had helped in some way. Keeping it simple without driving your mind into overthinking every single thought, you laid it all down as if you were planning and preparing a business proposal. 

You didn’t want to dive deep into what Harry’s invitation could entail—more like you didn’t want to get your hopes up on if you two were to get back together because the potential rejection you could face would absolutely crush you. Harry’s a kind and sweet guy, he’s simply inviting a friend over for a drink and dinner, if you could even call yourself that. Plus, it was still early to fully call it a day, and he planned for ice cream after the park, so he was fulfilling that promise of sweet dessert. 

Without realizing, you’d been sitting in your car for a solid five minutes, staring over your steering wheel as you were parked on the curb in front of Harry’s house. Harry’s car was already in the driveway, so they were just waiting on you. 

You walked towards the front door, and it swung open before you even got the chance to knock. 

“Hey, thought you’d change your mind when you weren’t getting out of the car,” Harry joked, although that thought really crossed his mind when he peeked out through the window and saw you still in your car. 

You chuckled nervously. “Oh, no. I wouldn’t.” You stepped inside his house, and a wave of nostalgia rushed through you as if you were at the beach and the harsh current knocked you over as you were trying to walk against the sandy wind. 

Everything still looked the same—the same since the night you left without another word to the kids, just a note to Harry telling you to meet at the shop. A pinch of guilt appeared in your face as you frowned, and Harry immediately took notice, but you waved it off as you slightly smiled, telling him that you two would talk later. He didn’t press any further, waiting until later or when you were ready. Instead, he asked if you wanted anything to drink, to which he already knew you’d go for a class of Cabernet, and luckily, he had some in stock—more like, he still had the untouched bottle for when you stayed over. 

The two of you leaned against the cold granite counter as music softly played on the speaker that was connected through Bluetooth on his phone. Conversations were light, but it wasn’t awkward in any sense. As a matter of fact, it felt just like old times when you would stay over his house, talking about each other’s day and simply enjoying the presence of one another. That’s what you think this was, you thought—enjoying the fact that Harry was in front of you after so many months and you were cherishing it until the next set of months went by. 

After a few conversations and sips of wine later, the time had gone by fairly fast, which always happened when you were with him, and it was nearing five. The kids had woken up from their nap at four and quietly settled in the living room—the twins on the couch in front of the television and Rory was on the padded mat playing with his toys, occasionally talking to his sisters. Harry asked if you would be okay watching them so he could make dinner, and you were close to reminding him that he didn’t need to ask to watch his kids, but then again, you had to remind yourself that things were a bit different now. So, you said that you didn’t mind and walked over to the sofa chair next to the couch and watched TV with the girls as well as play with Rory. 

Twenty-five minutes had gone by and Harry called everyone, announcing that dinner was ready. You all walked into the dining room, taking your seats. Your assigned seat was next to Rory’s chair, which was in between you and Harry; the girls were sitting across from you. Once everyone took several bites of Harry’s dinner--a quick fettuccine alfredo--the chatter was back. You enthusiastically listened to the girls and Rory talk; it made Harry smile, loving how natural everything felt. 

Estelle tapped Harry’s shoulder, making him turn towards her with a smile on his face. “What is it, sunshine?” She got off her chair, leaning over to whisper something into his ear and he smiled, turning back to his family who was curious as to what Estelle had said. “Go ahead and ask her, love.” 

You put down your fork and placed your arms on the table. “What’s up, Princess?” 

“Uh, c-can we go to that place?” 

“What place is that?” You asked curiously. 

“That place where you told Daddy you loved him,” she responded quite bashfully. Your mouth was slightly open, not expecting her to say what she did. Looking over at Harry, he simply had a soft smile on his face with his brows raised, shrugging his shoulders.

Did you want to go back there? The answer was a simple yes. There wasn’t any excuse that you could possibly make up on the spot as to why you couldn’t go there, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad place whenever you thought about it. In fact, you really missed going over there and you would be lying if you said that you didn’t think about that place often. 

Your head turned towards Estelle. “Sure, why not. How about we go tomorrow?” You asked everyone, and they all had smiles on their faces. You looked at Harry, directly asking him for permission. “Is that okay?” His elbow was resting against the arm of the brown chair, fingers placed under his lips as he slightly puckered his soft and pink lips; without looking under the table, you knew his legs were crossed. Harry smiled, nodding his head, and everyone cheered. 

The rest of the time everyone was sitting at the dinner table, you all talked about plans for tomorrow, and everyone was really excited. Once it was almost eight, Harry realized that it was almost their bedtime, so he hurried them up the stairs to get ready for bed before saying goodnight to you, getting in as many hugs and kisses as they could get. 

Harry was upstairs, changing Rory and putting him to bed before he walked down and found you in the kitchen washing dishes. He slipped past you, placing his hand along your lower back briefly before he grabbed the dish rag. The action sent a chill down your spine and you immediately missed his hands on you. 

“The kids seem really excited about tomorrow.” Harry broke the silence, glancing over at you as you continued to wash the dishes. 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m really excited too.” 

Harry noticed the slight shortness, and he thought it may be because you were tired. “Hey, are you okay?” 

You turned off the water and faced him, crossing your arms as he did the same. 

“Do the kids hate me?” The corner of his lips turned up before he started laughing, clutching his stomach. If it were any other time, you would obsess over his laugh; it was music to your ears, the highlight of your day, and the sun when it’s bright out. You softly slapped his arm. “Harry! I’m being serious!” 

“Darling, you’re joking, right?” Your heart briefly fluttered at his nickname for you. “Those kids love you!” He noticed your change of attitude and that you’d been thinking about this for a while and beating yourself up over it. 

“It’s just…I don’t want them to think that we broke up and I forgot about them. I mean I understand if they see it that way because I left without saying another word for six months--didn’t even get to say goodbye to them and have a proper talk. I just don’t want them to hate me.” You looked down at your feet as you played with the thin silver band on your middle finger.  

Harry’s seen you in work mode, and it reeks confidence and power. You don’t need much reassurance during work unless it’s when your employees tell you that progress is moving along. But this was completely different; you needed all the reassurance that you could get to get it through your head that the kids that you’d come to love--from the moment you met them--don’t hate you. And Harry didn’t mind telling you over and over again. 

“They were just that we split up, that’s all. But they quickly understood why.” 

“What’d you tell them?” You asked curiously. 

“The truth--that sometimes it’s better to be apart for a while rather than drive ourselves crazy. Told them that when the time is right, then maybe we’ll get back together.” The look in his eyes was so comforting that you immediately fell into them. Harry was always the best with giving you that extra reassurance that you and his kids need. 

You felt the extra beat in your chest that pumped so harshly against your chest, but it was surrounded by butterflies, making it flutter throughout your body. As you looked so deeply into Harry’s beautiful green eyes, you realized one of two things; the first thing was that you never wanted to look so deeply into another person’s eyes unless it was Harry’s; and the second thing was that you were incredibly and overwhelmingly still in love with this man and his three children, and there hadn’t been a day that gone by where you weren’t. 

Taking a deep breath, itches were crawling up your skin, begging you to say something. “D-Do you think it’s time?” Your voice asked shyly. 

Harry was taken back by your question as he raised his brows. He couldn’t deny the nerves that he felt whenever he was around you, but your question seemed to have increased his nervousness. 

“We’ve been separated for what feels like a long time now.” He paused, taking a deep breath as he recouped his thoughts to say the right words. “I think-”

“Daddy?” Yours and Harry’s head whipped towards the staircase, finding Estelle at the bottom of it with groggy eyes. 

Harry walked towards his sunshine. “What is it, my love?” He kneeled down onto the bottom step, matching her height. Estelle told him that she couldn’t sleep, and that she’s been tossing and turning for a while, so Harry told her that he would lay with her until she fell asleep and carried her to her bedroom. He looked back at you as he was walking up the steps, and you gave him a soft smile, letting him know that it was completely okay. 

You finished tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and cleaning the dining table until you realized that you needed to get ready for tomorrow’s adventure. 

Once Harry came down the stairs, he found you sitting on the edge of the armchair with your purse on your shoulder; you looked up as he walked up to you. 

“I’m gonna head out.” 

Harry’s slightly frowned. “Oh, you can stay the night if you want to.” 

“No, it’s okay, thanks.” You really did want to stay the night, but you didn’t have a change of clothes for tomorrow. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.” He nodded, walking you to the door, opening it for you. 

You stepped out on his doorstep, turning around as you wrapped your arm around his waist, tiptoeing to plant a kiss to his cheek. The slightest bit of touch from your lips sent Harry’s skin on fire, warming up to the affection. The touch was sent away too quickly as you let go of him completely, giving him one last smile before walking to your car and waving at him as you drove away. 

Harry closed the door, the palm of his hand cupped the cheek that you kissed and he sighed as if he was shot with Cupid’s love-arrow, and he wouldn’t mind it if it meant he would feel your affection every single day. 

You arrived at the Styles household at ten in the morning with a tote-full of snacks and water, knowing the kids would get hungry from all the walking. You got there forty-five minutes earlier than planned, knowing that the Styles family wouldn’t be out the door right on time because Harry has three kids, two of them who bicker and complain from time to time—especially when they’re sleepy—and a two-year-old who was starting to run away from everything. So, you figured Harry would appreciate your help. 

When Harry saw you standing on his doorstep, he let out a sigh of relief. He was still in his striped pajamas pants and a white t-shirt, holding a small pair of olive green pants. You walked in and saw Rory running around half naked, despite it being early in the morning. You told Harry that he could shower and get ready for the day, and to leave it to you because you’ll handle it—plus, you both knew that the kids often listened to you more than their own dad. He smiled appreciatively, kissing your head briefly before walking up the stairs and getting ready. 

Once Rory saw you, he stopped running around the house and instead, ran towards you and into your arms. You carried him up the stairs and to his room to get some clothes on him, and luckily, Harry was able to bathe him before you showed up. You gave him his favorite toy to fumble with before you walked into Mira's room, setting Rory on her twin bed before helping her get ready. You left Rory in Mira’s room and went to Estelle’s bedroom, doing the same. 

By the time Harry walked downstairs, you and the three kids were sitting on the couch, eating a banana. He smiled, slowing his steps as he was amazed at the quietness and stillness in the house, but then again, he wasn’t that amazed because he knew you’d come in and get things in order. 

Harry’s home was a two minute walk to the train station, and everyone decided to take the train since it was what you and Harry did when you two were dating, and the kids really wanted to walk through the entire path of their father’s love story. 

Luckily, there weren’t that many people on the train—it was practically empty—so they didn’t have to rush to get a spot for the kids. Rory sat in the middle of his sisters as they all smiled brightly towards Harry’s phone that was capturing the adorable children for a sweet memory sake. You and Harry were standing, making sure neither of the kids fell over if the train made a halting stop. You held onto the metal bar above you, Harry held the bar that was mounted into the floor, and you both watched the kids interact with one another—counting on their fingers, booping one another’s noses, and laughing; it was every parent’s dream. 

Without noticing, Harry moved closer to you, placing his hand directly next to yours; the side of your hand touched his, and you looked at him with wide eyes while your heart fluttered. You were hip to hip, and you saw the smirk he had on his face while occasionally glancing over at you. You couldn’t help the heat that rose onto your cheeks because it felt like old times when you two used to ride the train together and it would get too packed to where you had to stand up; he would always face you as your hands touched—sometimes he would even intertwine your fingers together while you two held the bar as you were one—and he would hover over you, giving you plentiful kisses like the true romantic that he was. 

The train ride took about 30 minutes and it was a two minute walk to the place that gave you so many happy memories and nostalgia—International Rose Test Garden was where the memories of you and Harry were stored. 

You had the girls on either side of you, holding their hands; and Harry carried Rory since he was likely to run around and Harry didn’t want to risk his safety. 

The sun was bright—beautiful for a day in the garden as the roses and flowers bloomed ever so widely. All of you walked the rows and rows of flowers, occasionally taking pictures in front of the rose bushes.

Remembering all the times you and Harry were hand in hand, laughing until your stomachs were sore, like you did an intense ab workout, and there were tears resting in the outer corner of your eyes. All the memories that were swirling around in your head made you come to the conclusion to one thing: you never want to be without Harry and his kids ever again. 

You don’t know how it took you so long to realize this, maybe it was seeing them for the first time in six months that you realized that you had it great—a small family that accepted you and loved you for who you were, and you loved them just the same. 

Harry walked beside you, the kids skipping and playing around in the grass in front of you two. Confidently, you slipped your hand into Harry’s ringed hand, immediately intertwining your fingers together as if your hand knew what it was missing. Harry briefly looked down before looking at you. He smiled, and turned his head back towards the kids, not making a big deal of it as his warm hand accepted the coldness of yours. 

You gently tugged against his arm, pulling him back as he came face to face with you; a quiet gasp came out of his mouth when doing so. You looked up at him with bright eyes, and Harry was taken back to a year and a half ago where you, coincidentally, were in this same spot on the very green patch of grass. 

“Harry…” you breathed out, looking down at your feet nervously. He made the bold move to step closer to you, chests almost touching. Harry lifted your chin up with his fingers, locking eyes with you so intently that you practically lost your breath. 

“What is it?” He whispered. 

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I-I realized something.” 

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

Glancing over at the kids, they were giving you big smiles and thumbs up for reassurance, and your heart swooned at their support and love they provided you to finally get back together with their father, even if you weren’t their biological mother. 

You looked back at Harry, who was waiting patiently. “I love you. I still do and never stopped.” Harry felt like he stopped breathing at that moment. “You make me so happy—you and the kids, and I don’t want to be without you all anymore. I-I don’t like how it’s only taken me this much time to tell you this, but it felt like the perfect time since this was the place where I first told you I loved you.” 

Harry smiled, taking your hands into his. His thumbs smoothed your skin on the back of your hand before he brought them up to his lips and kissed them so delicately. The action made you smile softly before your mind had switched it to thinking that it was affection before the rejection. 

But then he opened his mouth to speak such beautiful words that you had been aching to hear during the breakup. 

“You’re my everything. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you because you. You’re part of my source of happiness, and life didn’t feel the same without you—the kids could agree with me on that.” He chuckled, looking at them to find them holding hands and jumping around in circles. “But I know that we separated for the better only for us to come back stronger than ever, and I’m never gonna let go of you again, okay?” 

Tears pricked your eyes before they streamed down your cheeks. Your heart felt like it was pounding harder than ever, but it was filled with so much love from and for this man in front of you. 

Harry wiped away your tears, leaning in to kiss your forehead, down to your eyelids as he kissed your tears away. He pulled away and you opened your eyes, giving each other a relieved and happy smile. 

“I love you,” he said, and he swore he saw the brightest smile he’s ever seen—brighter than the sun. “Always have and always will.” 

“And I love you. C-Can you kiss me, please?” 

Harry grinned. “It would be an honor.” 

Placing his palms on the side of your face, he leaned his forehead against yours. Your hands were wrapped around his wrists, rubbing his skin softly. With a smile, he kissed you with such softness and passion that the flowers bloomed largely and the sun shined ever so brightly. The kids cheered and clapped, making bystanders think that you’d just gotten engaged, but you both knew that would be the next step. Your stomach was in knots, butterflies surrounding your body as he captured your lips with his. Hugging Harry’s waist, you pulled him closer and wrapped your arms around him, and he kissed you harder, effortlessly moving his lips in sync with yours as if he was a pro on kissing you, which he was. 

Harry pulled away first, giving you several pecks before opening his eyes. “God, I missed doing that. Missed you so much, darling.” 

“I missed you too, baby.” You were high on happiness, high on love. “I’m sorry it took us this long.” A slight frown appeared on your face, but Harry kissed it away. 

“Hey, hey. None of that. I would’ve loved you until the end of time. I don’t care how long it took, you’re my forever,” he vowed, not planning to break that promise. 

Missing his lips on yours, you leaned up to kiss him again while your arms were wrapped around his neck and his were around your waist, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d run off. 

Suddenly, you started giggling into the kiss, making Harry smile before he pulled away. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked. You started thinking about the conversation from the park when you asked him if he was seeing someone. 

You curled in your lips before you said, “You’re a literal dilf, and I’m so in love with you.” 

please tell me all of your thoughts, feelings, favorite moments and scenes! thank you for reading <3

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles au #dad!harry #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine

[spectaclespencer]

Late Confessions // Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

A/N; Just a short thing I came up with today! I started with the end dialogue and worked my way back...so hopefully it flows well enough! (:

Summary; Reader is frustrated with Reid's self sacrificing tendencies, and ends up confessing their love for him.

Category; Fluff, Angst (happy ending)

Content Warnings; Brief mention of a case, kissing

Word Count; 2.1k

Their friendship was a special type of one. From the beginning of ____’s employment as part time media liaison, they’ve always gotten along. After every case they would greet the team home, offering them each a hug and a few words of encouragement. Spencer was adverse at the start, but eventually after a few months of ____ settling in he opened up to the idea of it. It started as quick hugs, but soon led to long, warm embraces. They found comfort in each other, both of them not realizing that something deeper was brewing beneath the surface.

It seemed as though the entire team knew about their love for each other except the two of them. They saw it as a close friendship, the way Reid was with Derek, and ____ with Penelope.

____ was the first to clue in on it. It was during one of said hugs when it dawned on them. The feeling of Spencer’s arms wrapped around their waist was enough to make their knees buckle. Their body was pressed firmly against every ounce of him, breathing in his scent of stale coffee and crappy hotel shampoo. It was like they both had a chance to recharge, hugging in the middle of the bullpen. How did ____ not feel their love for Spencer previously? They never wanted to let go, to just protect him from harm for eternity. They felt home in each other’s arms, finding solace in whatever small touches they could grasp.

They immediately went to Garcia after, seeking advice on what exactly to do. She worked with Reid the longest out of any of them, so ____ figured she could be of some help. There were countless nights of them conspiring on what to do, how to lead up to ____ confessing their feelings. They humoured Penelope, letting her soak up all the love she could before the inevitable rejection. She suggested writing him love letters, and leaving them on his desk. Maybe he would read them and go to them first, declaring his equal love. ____ pondered the idea at first, thinking they could write it anonymously to see how he would react.

They’d actually written a few drafts in preparation, yet chose against dropping them off at his desk. At the moment the abandoned letters sat in a shoebox tucked into a shelf at their apartment. ____ was scared that intently watching his reaction from the other side of the room would surely give them away.

____ never got a chance to come up with any other ideas, before the team left for a case in Missouri.

There was a hostage situation where Spencer went in to negotiate without his FBI vest. When ____ got ear of this back home, they were worried sick. When he returned, they gave him a hard smack on the shoulder before pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

That night, they’d offered to drive Spencer home to which he accepted. That’s how they ended up in his apartment arguing over his carelessness.

____ slammed the door after Spencer entered, asking him how he could do such a thing.

“You put yourself at risk time and time again, Spencer.”

“For a good cause, ____,” he spat, growing more agitated by the second. He didn’t find it fair of them to criticize him for this.

“If you had gotten hurt, it would hurt me too. So bad. Can’t you see that? Like when you got shot nearly a year ago I swear I almost had a heart attack. And I wasn’t there to prevent it.”

“Of course. I know that. We’re a team, I’d be concerned if you didn’t care about me. And that’s not your job. My job is to make sure those unsubs don’t hurt any more people.”

“I know it’s not but I still wish I had done more, but nevermind that. And no, it’s not like that,” ____ exhaled frustratedly.

“Then what is it like? I don’t understand you sometimes,” he replied, pacing in front of the couch. He wasn’t sure what to do, it felt as if he was getting in trouble from an authority figure and it was filling him with anxiety.

“I’ve been flirting with you, Spencer,” they sighed, hands moving back and forth between them both. ____ was grasping at straws here, trying to get him to see what’s been happening all along. They were starting to think that maybe he wasn’t oblivious after all, and was just ignoring it. ____ just wanted him to know where they’re coming from. They wanted to show Spencer that they truly cared for him, and he couldn’t be so reckless with his decisions. “Do I really have to spell it out for you?”

“What? When has that ever happened?” He shook his head, voice faltering off near the end. A part of him was afraid that this was some sick joke, possibly Derek playing a prank on him. He was running through scenarios in his head, seeing how probable it was that ____ wasn’t messing with him. It was hard at the moment to tell if the confession was sincere, despite him being a profiler.

“All the time. Literally whenever I talk to you. How do you not notice? You think I’m this close with everyone? Look, Spence. I love you so, so much. I’m just asking you to be more careful. I truly don’t know what I’d do with myself if one day you didn’t come home. I couldn't live with myself, knowing I was too late.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t seem to find the words. His mouth ran dry, as he looked in their direction in disbelief. In that moment he went through a few of their interactions, playing them back in his head.

He thought of the times where ____ would stay with him in his hotel room on the odd occasion that they travelled with the team. Many of the cases were especially rough on him. Some nights they’d stay awake chatting, just trying to make the painful aspects of their jobs disappear. He would lean into their touch, staining their shirt with his salty tears. There were stolen glances from time to time, he would feel eyes on him but as he averted his eyes up, there would be nobody looking, until he turned his head back down. They would give him sweaters when he was cold, and he only now noticed they hardly did it for other members of the team. Spencer never even had to stop for a second to look for a loose hair tie, or hand sanitizer, because ____ had always had some for him. It was so obvious this whole time, but he’d fallen under an oblivious spell. He felt silly for not putting the pieces together sooner. It was as if everything fell into place, and his head was completely cleared.

They were two smart, yet stupid people in love.

“Spencer,” ____ whispered, taking a step closer to him. “Please say something,” at this point, a shadow of regret was starting to seep through their skin. He could see it in the way their eyes darted back and forth from his own two, not resting for a second. He could almost hear the beat of their heart, hammering against their shivering chest.

He stood still in his spot, with slow tears leaking from his eyes, burning down his cheeks. He still hadn’t said a word, making ____’s blood run cold in an instant.

“No, no, please don’t cry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything,” ____ muttered, taking a few short strides over to him. They dropped their bag on the couch, before bringing their hands up to his cheeks to rub away the tears. He shuddered at the touch, as ____’s hands were soft, yet chilly. By now the only sounds that filled the space were the rain pattering down against the window and Spencer’s small gasps for air. He was trying to calm down, but everything was so intense he could hardly function.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t. I need a minute,” he finally breathed out, moving around their body to sit down on the couch. He wiped at his eyes, before resting his palms on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Do you want me to leave?” ____ asked, voice hoarse.

“No!” He yelled, far too loud for this time of night. He snapped his head up to look at them, eyes begging to not be alone. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

“Okay. That’s okay. Can I sit down?” ____ questioned, seeing as Spencer nodded.

The next few moments were eerily quiet.

“I can’t even begin to put into words how I feel about you,” Spencer spoke, not meeting ____’s eyes but reaching over to clasp their hands in his. ____ felt their entire body warm at the action, at so much love and passion being transferred over from a simple touch. “We’ve always been just…friends. I didn’t expect this when I met you. God, I think I had my feelings buried so deep within myself that I didn’t even know. It took you just now for me to realize.”

“Please don’t feel that you have to say this because I spoke up. That’s not fair to either of us.”

“I’ve always loved you, ____. I was just too scared to even have the thought,” Spencer exclaimed, finally meeting their eyes. “I’m certain of it.”

____ surveyed his face slowly, trying to look for any signs of lies. They were relaxing little by little, by the truth of his words

“Say that again,” ____ said, a smile breaking through their lips.

“I’m completely enamored by you. For a smart man, I guess I don’t really know how to express it.”

“You fool,” ____ shook their head, letting a puff of air through their lips. Their worries from earlier were forgotten, now being completely at peace.

“I am a fool,” Spencer laughed, moving his hands to either side of their face, as they had done for him previously. “But you love me.”

“I really do.”

They stared at each other for a minute, relishing in the true comfort of the atmosphere.

“Can I please kiss you?” Spencer asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He was so quiet that ____ almost thought they imagined it.

With a quick nod of approval from ____, Spencer thought he might pass out from nerves. Their consent remained hovering in the air, before eventually he leaned in and pressed his soft lips against theirs. The moment they touched, they both sighed in content. The feeling of it was overflowing his senses. He pulled away soon after they had started, needing to catch his breath.

Spencer felt at harmony, yet was growing hungry for more. He could hardly see, for there were too many feelings he was experiencing at once. He felt ____’s fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck, and their soft breath fanning over his face. He could make out the contours of their cheeks, only being able to spot a few shadows of their face in the dim light. He could smell them, so vibrant while close to him. Before he knew it, ____ reconnected their lips in a kiss more wistful than the first. It was bruising, the way they pressed their bodies together. The energy in the room was pulsating with desire from the both of them. Spencer was running his hands up and down ____’s hips, too overwhelmed by them it was impossible to stay still. They tasted of coffee, having been at work most of the day.

He was intoxicating. ____ thought they may explode with desire. They felt as if time was stopping, leaving the two of them in the moment to let him addictively occupy all of their thoughts. The flutter of their eyelids became rapid, brushing their eyelashes against Spencer’s cheeks. There was nothing but raw affection in the way he moved his hands to grip their jaw.

When they finally broke away, they held eye contact. Spencer had never felt more electric. Every point that their skin touched was up in flames, leaving him to drown in it.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Spencer spoke, breaking the silence.

“I’d like nothing more,” ____ responded. They finally could breathe, thankful for the night’s outcome.

Spencer beamed at them, placing a final kiss upon their forehead.

They encased each other in their arms gently once more. It was the same as before, yet this time around was filled with an immense amount of love from both parties. It was tight, intimate, and with a million words that neither of them could even begin to form.

They spent the night getting lost in one another, wasting none of their lost time.

-----

Please tell me your thoughts on this work here! I'd appreciate any and all feedback. My requests are open if you have any as well!!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #matthew gray gubler #gublernation #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x gender neutral reader

[littleoddwriter]

Heavy Heart | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

Another Vent Fic, sorry. This time with Arrowverse!Roman Sionis (Batwoman Season 2), though. The episodes still aren’t out here, but I think I’ve seen enough Clips to at least get his voice and feel right. Sorry if not (in case anyone even ends up reading this).

summary; You’re struggling with personal issues, regarding your interpersonal relationships. Roman unexpectedly shows up at your doorstep and you have a heart-to-heart.

notes; Male!Reader; Reader has Borderline Personality Disorder; Favourite Person (FP); Rejection; Abandonment Issues; Spiralling; Mild Dissociation; Self-Harm (Scratching and Cutting); Blood; Hurt/Comfort; Unexpected Visit; Love Confessions; Soft Kisses; Hugs; Little Dialogue.

It’s only been a couple of months, since you and Roman have started dating. Honestly, you’d never expected it to happen at all. You’ve been his assistant at Janus Cosmetics for over two years at that point, while you’ve been silently crushing on him the entire time. So to say that you were ecstatic about the fact that he liked you, too, would’ve been an understatement.

Naturally, as it always happened, Roman has become your new Favourite Person all too quickly and crushingly. Of course, at this point in your still blooming relationship you couldn’t care less, because you were happy, you were on top of the world when you only thought about him and the way he kissed you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

Still, in the back of your mind, this tiny voice kept reminding you that every time you’ve had an FP in your life, it didn’t end well; and it never lasted very long – a year tops, maybe. So, you were cautious, like you always were. You were hyper aware of everything you said and did around him; how often you texted him; how fast you responded to him; how many gifts you made for him and how much time passed in-between them. All so you wouldn’t fuck it up by being too much or too little. You were desperately trying to find this golden balance between it all.

The last time you had a Favourite Person wasn’t too long ago, actually. They had still been it when Roman has asked you on your first date with him. But not even a week afterwards, they had suddenly stopped responding to your texts and ignored you. They had never tried to contact you again and you were far too afraid and anxious to do it on your own accord after too much time has passed already. After all, you had already convinced yourself that they had lost interest in you and hated your guts all of a sudden.

Of course, you had tried to forget about them, which was made a little easier by the fact that your entire focus was on one Roman Sionis. Still, it didn’t prevent you from thinking about this supposed friend at least once a day, if not more, and wondering where it had gone wrong and if the same would happen with Roman very soon. It was bound to happen after all, and since this particular friendship had ended so very suddenly after not even four months, you could only fear how long your relationship with Roman would last.

Every single day, you tried your damnedest not to ponder too much and let anxiety overtake your body. Instead, you attempted to just focus on Roman and how much you loved him, which was a whole lot and far too much, to the point where it caused your chest to hurt. Often times, you wondered if it would be acceptable of you to already say those three particular words to him, or if that would ruin everything. You were incredibly uncertain, and he never seemed as though he was going to say them any time soon. Either way, you forced yourself to be patient and not fuck everything up again.

The fact that Roman had asked you out, even though he very much knew about your BPD diagnosis had shocked you to your core, but it somewhat calmed you down to know that it wasn’t a secret between you two (you had even checked in with him if he really knew upon his question). Still, you often wondered if he was truly aware of how much baggage you had on your shoulders and just how exhausting it could be to be in a relationship with a person who had this particular disorder – not only for you, but for him as well.

As the months have stretched on with barely an incident between you two, you had allowed yourself to get a tiny bit more comfortable. Whether or not you should regret it was beyond you, when your best friends have suddenly ceased to respond to your texts and more and more people around you have seemed to ignore you. At first you’ve given it all some time and tried not to jump to conclusions, because you knew they were all busy with their own lives and weren’t always in the mood to talk or text – and you respected that, you knew exactly what that was like.

But as two days have turned into four and essentially a whole week, you couldn’t help yourself anymore.

Feelings of utter loneliness and rejection overcame you in waves. You’ve been short of crying every couple of minutes; your chest hurt so much; your skin felt so tight – you desperately wanted to claw it off.

Then, you started to isolate yourself more and more. At work, you acted mostly normal, just like always – putting on this mask of being fine and a good worker – when in reality, your entire world was falling apart piece by piece.

None of it went past Roman, of course, he was way too perceptive for that. But when he asked you what was wrong, you deflected the question and said that it wasn’t important, it would be okay in a few hours or days anyway.

That wasn’t the case, though.

It didn’t get better at all. The feelings just wouldn’t go away. Every time you looked at your phone and saw all the unanswered messages you’d sent out to people weeks and months ago made your heart heavy and your chest tighten painfully. The more time passed, the worse it got.

Eventually, you also just couldn’t help wondering about Roman and doubting his interest in you. Was he truly interested in you at all? Would he have enough of you soon? Would he drop you gently or harshly? Would you even still have a job when he did? Fuck, it certainly wasn’t the best idea to date your boss, was it?

As you sat at your desk at home, preparing Roman’s schedule for the next week, your phone suddenly pinged. Immediately you took it into your hands to see if it was Roman – he was the only one who you were talking to at all anymore, after all. But then you saw that it was your previous Favourite Person, the one right before Roman. They had reacted to something you had posted on social media. They had commented on it as though they hadn’t suddenly stopped talking to you months ago.

As soon as you saw it, your eyes burned with tears that suddenly pricked them, your heart clenched so painfully and your skin was crawling. You were hurt and confused. It was all too much.

Just half an hour before that you had exchanged a few texts with an acquaintance you had on social media, which was as unfulfilling as it always had been. They clearly didn’t care about you, since they would never once truly ask how you were feeling, but in fact only talked about themselves and their life’s struggles. You were nothing but a tool for them to vent their worries to without an ounce of care in what you had to say in the least. It was a role you’d been very much used to, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

So, naturally all of this was a lot for you to process – too much, really – and you felt so many negative emotions all at once. They were crushing you. You were in agony.

As the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the emotional pain and exchange it with a temporary physical one overcome you, you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths and distract yourself first, before you did something you would later regret.

Unfortunately, it only lasted for a few minutes at a time, as the urge became bigger and your anguish stronger.

Only a few hours later, you decided to shower and as soon as you got dressed, you couldn’t even think twice before your fingernails met your neck’s skin and scratched it open. You stared at yourself in the mirror as your hands just kept on moving, all across your neck and collarbones, scratching away intensely until it was bright red, irritated and bleeding.

For a moment, you inspected the fresh wounds.

It still wasn’t enough.

You quickly disinfected the irritated, scratched-open areas and then proceeded to take out the small blade you kept in the drawer below your bathroom sink. Then, you pressed it against your inner forearm and drew a small, deep line with it, causing blood to well up instantly as sharp pain shot through you. You set the blade down and squeezed around your wound, forcing out more blood. You desperately needed to see it flow out of you.

A few seconds passed and you took the blade back into your hand and rested it a few inches below your fresh cut.

You hesitated.

Shaking your head, you put it back into the drawer and instead nursed your still bleeding wound.

After all, you’ve already done more than enough damage.

The loud and sudden ringing of your doorbell startled you and you quickly, but quietly, walked towards your apartment door to look through the peephole. Roman stood in front of your door.

Were you supposed to meet him and you forgot amidst all the pain you’ve been in?

Nervously, you opened the door and smiled at him. It hurt to smile. You could only guess how strained it must have looked, not to forget the angry red and mildly bleeding wounds on your neck that you had no way of hiding, then.

“Roman, wh- what are you doing here? Sorry, uh, come in first, maybe,” you stammered out your awkward greeting, stepping to the side to let Roman into your apartment, while your heart violently hammered against your rib cage.

“I’m sorry for suddenly coming by, but I’ve actually been in the area and thought I could pay you a little visit. I missed you,” he replied as he walked past you and hung his coat on the hook on the wall, “Besides, I tried to let you know by sending you a text, but I suppose you were busy showering by the looks of it.”

“Oh- yeah. Yes, sorry. It’s okay, though. I missed you, too. I’m glad to see you,” you responded softly, nervously looking around the room and avoiding his eyes.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your bodies flush against one another. His left arm travelled up and around when he cupped your cheek with his hand and gently stroked his thumb over it, before he leaned in to kiss you on the lips. You were entirely too overwhelmed and still a little beside yourself, but you reciprocated the chaste kiss automatically and put your arms around his shoulders.

When he broke the kiss, he looked you over. You could feel the shame crawling beneath your skin, making you feel far too hot.

“I didn’t catch you at a good time, did I?” he inquired quietly, grazing his fingers over the wounds on your neck so very lightly so as not to hurt you more.

Because of how tight your throat felt, you could only shake your head and avert your gaze.

Roman heaved a deep sigh and kissed your forehead softly, “It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to hide from me,” he murmured against your brow, “May I ask what’s caused this?”

Hesitating, you opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, so short of crying again, as you thought about whether or not it would scare him off if you told him the truth. In the end, you nodded, though.

“Let’s sit down first, please. Can I get you something to drink?” you said brokenly, daring to look at him for a second.

“Water, please.”

Quickly, you walked into the kitchen and got Roman a glass of water, while he sat down on your couch in the living room. Your hand was shaking when you passed him the glass and he looked at you with such a soft expression that it took your breath away.

Why wasn’t he up and running already?

When you sat down next to him, he set the glass down on the table in front of you two and put his arm around you, once more pulling you close against him. Your sides pressed together and you allowed yourself to rest your head against his shoulder.

“You can tell me as much or as little as you want, okay, my sweet boy?” he told you softly and kissed your temple shortly.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and exhaled a shuddery breath. Then, you started to tell him everything that’s been going on lately and how much it all hurt. Sometime into your explanation the tears that have burned your eyes started to flow and run down your reddened face, leaving painful streaks behind. All the while, Roman was quietly shushing you and rubbing your upper arm soothingly, and peppering gentle kisses on the top of your head.

When you were done talking, you squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your entire body into Roman’s side in an attempt to both vanish and be close to him one last time, before he would leave you (at least that was what you’ve expected to happen anyway).

Instead, Roman wrapped his other arm around you as well and embraced you tightly, lovingly.

“I’m not going to leave you, baby. I’m not going anywhere. It angers me to know how much pain people have caused you in your life, especially as of late, but I won’t be one of them, alright?” he assured you and kissed your temple once more. “I love you, Y/N.”

Stopping to breathe altogether, you could barely believe what you’ve just heard.

Despite your disbelief, you choked out a quiet “I love you, too, Roman. So much”.

The issues that caused you so much pain in the first place may not have been solved with it, but you felt a little more secure in your relationship with Roman now, at least. That way, you could now quiet down these nagging thoughts in the back of your mind that kept telling you that he was going to drop you any second.

Sighing deeply, you relaxed a little and wrapped your arms around Roman’s middle as you pressed your face into his chest.

For the time being, you could pretend that everything was going to be alright.

#tw self harm #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #roman sionis #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis fanfiction #black mask #black mask fanfiction #peter outerbridge #cw batwoman #batwoman roman sionis #arrowverse #arrowverse roman sionis

[moonlit-djarin]

Home

(gif by @ithinkwehitametaphor ) 

Paring:Javier Pena x gn!Reader

Warnings:  Brief mentions of canon violence and topics surrounding PTSD. Mentions of fighting within a relationship, alcohol, and smoking. Potentially a little out of character. 

a/n: Once again there is no dialogue in this because I can’t write that apparently. 

I took an unplanned break from writing and then this came to me when yearning in @mitchi-c ‘s inbox. Thank you for all of the continued love on my fic’s and sticking with me as I worked through a rough few weeks month. 

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Javier is away for a week and is anxious to get home.

- 

The pillow next to you was cold. The couch unoccupied by a tired body. The cup in the bathroom held one less tooth brush. The kitchen table was free of cigarette butts and miscellaneous stolen manila files folders. Javier had been gone for a week and fuck. The sudden radio silence was driving you crazy.

It wasn’t the longest he had been gone, nor the longest you had been gone. Time away from each other was common and ingrained in your lifestyle. Mix matched schedules and late nights or early mornings contributed to savoring every lingering moment. The night before a lengthier trip normally consisted of take out and a few beers before retreating to each other’s arms under the covers. This trip was different. The day before he left had ended in bitter words swimming in whiskey and a slammed door. Leaving both parties on opposite ends of the door and red with anger and guilt. 

The drags on his cigarette became longer and longer as Javier tried to ease his mind when he turned the corner to your apartment building. Remaining guilt lingered with the anticipation of being in your arms again, making him feel sick from something other than the nicotine in his system. Pulling to a stop in the designated parking spot for your building, his eyes wandered up to your window. Memories of watching the sunset through them or seeing your head peak through the linen curtains to see if he had arrived yet flooded his brain. His heart stalled and quickened to a hammering pace as he saw your lights off. Without better judgment, his mind jumped to the worst possible conclusions before centering himself on the fact that it was an unspeakable hour in the early morning. He knew you had to work in just a few hours and never expected you to wait up for him. Yet he couldn’t shake the fear that momentarily paralyzed him in the driver's seat. He wouldn’t blame you if you had left, he just wanted to make sure nothing happened to you. 

Sighing and carding a hand through his sweaty hair he took gentle steps and tried his best to close the door quietly as he came in. The apartment was clean, cleaner than he had left it and his heart sank a little with knowing he had left an unorganized mess for you to clean up after him. The need to check on you before he could let go of the long week behind him had become a habit. His heart constricted as he peered into the dark bedroom, the hallway light illuminating the outline of your figure under the sheets through the slightly cracked door. The next breath felt like clean air in his lungs, no longer polluted by fear. Not ready to sleep just yet, and not wanting to disturb you, he turned back to the kitchen. A wave of exhaustion crashed through him as he walked down the hallway flicking off the light to let you sleep as he went. 

Back in the kitchen, his eyes scanned the shelves within the fridge, before deciding he wasn’t hungry. Containers of leftovers and a half drunk bottle of wine sat next to an untouched new case of his favorite beer.

He sighed and grabbed a beer. Leaning against the counter, Javier trusted it to hold his weight as he took a sip. He closed his eyes and the relief of being home finally washed through him, fighting the wave of exhaustion dragging him down. 

His mind wandered as the alcohol flowed through his system, temporarily numbing the loud intrusive thoughts in the back of his brain. No matter how unsuccessful it was, the week was behind him and you were safe. That’s all that mattered now. The blood staining his hands had not reached you this week. 

Lost in lethargic thought, he didn’t hear you sleepily pad into the kitchen. A blanket wrapped around your shoulders, draping off you like a cape. He stiffened at your sudden appearance in his arms. Blinking, all of his worries eased that moment. His brain swarmed with thoughts of you instead of images of the harsh reality he lived in (like how cute you looked in his shirt and the blanket wrapped around your shoulders). Nothing plagued his brain more than you, and here you stood in between his arms, looking up at him with wide and sleep filled eyes. A comforting sight for sore eyes. 

He placed a kiss on your head, running a thumb on your cheek before wrapping his arms around you tightly. Holding onto your frame for dear life mumbling about how you needed your sleep. . Even after a week of cold sheets, empty arms and out of grasp conversations. With every possible exit point wide open. You remained. Guilt ate through his stomach and to his throat. After all he had put you through, the late nights, bitter words, everything, why had you stayed? He couldn’t be more thankful that you did. It was a confessed moment of selfishness. You were his home. His everything. And here you were in his arms, not a figment of his imagination teasing and calling him back to reality. Man did it feel good to be home. A soft smile formed to his lips as your hands cupped his face and the blanket fell. 

Coaxing him into bed with a kiss and a promise to hold him close. To make up for lost time and harsh words with nothing more than just taking comfort within your arms. Contact was kept as he carefully stepped over the blanket, beer forgotten on the counter as the bedroom door closed behind him with a kick of his foot. Laying beneath the covers, his hands found the small of your back. Gently kneading out any tension that you held there. Your head pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing in every scent you missed. Harsh words forgotten and forgiven for the time being. Vulnerable moments like these were unfamiliar to Javier. He couldn’t help but feel tension rise on the bridge of his nose, his eyes withholding the bubbling rawness that arose as you mumbled the three words he said out loud too little. I love you. He only responded with a gentle kiss and a whisper of a promise that the both of you were safe. At least for now. He waited until he heard a soft snore come through your lips before he echoed his response. Mumbling it back like a broken record skipping into your hair. Silently questioning how he deserved to have such a home to return to after all that he has done. It was something you would scold him for later, but he allowed the peaceful air to create a moment of vulnerability, one of pure admiration for you as he pulled you closer than imaginable and stared at the ceiling. Listening to your even and steady breaths, feeling your heartbeat against his ribcage. He would always come back to you, the guilt of leaving you waiting was too much. The thought of you in his arms comforted him as much as his arms comforted you. 

Sleep never came easy to him, but with the knowledge of you being safe in his arms, he could quiet his mind for at least a little bit. Enough to get through the hours until dawn when you would wake up for work and he would return to his coping mechanism of cigarettes and liquor. Until your arms opened again and the the cover of night allowed for him to relax into the bed mumbling, 

I love you. 

- 

Thanks for reading/commenting/reblogging <3 

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#javier pena x reader #javier pena imagine #javier pena x gn!reader #javier pena one shot #narcos imagine #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character x reader #pedro pascal imagine #han writes

[sixteenthshen]

my rant on episodes 31/32

I feel so conflicted about them.

On the one hand, I wanted to watch the shared horse scene so much. On the other,  there were so many inconsistencies and WTF moments. I can't bring myself to touch those episodes again to make more gifs, which is such a pity because WKX falling down the cliff? SO PRETTY. 

Spoilers behind the cut. If you do follow the drama with Chinese fans, you’ll probably have heard the same things like a million times. To save yourself more angst/stress, skip my post. 

The upside is that the director took the fans complaints to heart. They were making edits until 2am last night. I heard it’s already live, but I’m still trying to prepare myself. There’re some things that can’t be fixed >< 

*hopes for the best on Tuesday* 

In episode 11, WKX wanted to tear the Scorpion assassins into ten thousand little itty bits because ZZS had some blood on his lip, which made me mentally scream so much from joy. In episode 31, he  LETS Duan Pengju, that evil dickface(TM) go, just like that? Where's the rage? Where's the anger? Do you see the colour of ZZS's face? Can you see what he's wearing? Do you know what dickface did? 

Although it's a very touching moment when WKX decides to acknowledge the shixiong/shidi relationship, it's super weird that the ghosts are behind. I mean, I suppose it can make sense if we focus on the fact that he's planning to "retire" from being the big bad CEO of Ghost Valley. But it seems careless to expose a weakness in case someone tries to take advantage of it since they have to kill you to get to be the new CEO. 

There's no follow up on the injuries sustained from being tortured by the evil dickface(TM). How could they make WKX seem so callous? Maybe a scene where ZZS asked Wu Xi to hide his injuries from WKX, but WKX's right outside. He overheard ZZS telling Wu Xi to hide it from him, so he pretends not to know. *cue angsty scene for WKX here* 

The only thing related to injuries was when Wu Xi said ZZS could be saved from his self-inflicted nailing. Okaaaay. What about the piercing of the scapula? (穿琵琶骨 (piercing pipa bones) - it's supposed to cripple your martial arts ability until you heal ok) 

WKX suddenly decides to go off and be a career man, which is perfectly fine. But he suddenly has Gu Xiang watch over ZZS like a hawk, not letting him drink. (Seriously, I forgot if this belongs in TYK or if this is yet another thing stolen from Sha Po Lang) Where is WKX showing any concern over ZZS's total loss of 2 out of 5 senses? I ASK YOU MS. SCRIPTWRITER. What have you done to WKX's character??? Poor WKX, poor ZZS. 

And did everyone laugh off the fact that ZZS can't taste, so why should he drink wine? Ok, I can make myself accept this if I remind myself that ZZS would not like people making a fuss and pitying him anyway... (but shouldn't someone, anyone care???) 

We get many hints that WKX has a sneaky scheme, but he doesn't tell Gu Xiang, his closest friend since childhood. He doesn't talk to his soulmate about this either. 

WKX and ZZS's dialogue just before he falls down the cliff... Seriously reminiscent of Silent Reading, when Fei Du makes the same self-flagellating confession & Luo Wenzhou stops him. 

ZZS draws his sword and stands beside WKX. What is going on?! How does he still have his martial arts ability? Did months pass since WKX saved him from evil dickface (TM)? Nothing makes any sense!  

ZCL's hidden weapon is what forces WKX over the cliff. If ZCL did not know about the sneaky scheme, then WTF is this kind of scriptwriting? ZCL's character turned from a good, young child to a prop-causing drama and angst. Even if he felt betrayed, was he not there to see how depleted WKX made himself trying to save Han Ying? Did he not see how WKX tried to keep his shifu safe? Or taught him how to fight? Did ZCL become stupid all of a sudden just to create angst? 

 It only makes sense if ZCL knew about the scheme because of all the info he was privy to, such as Zhao Jing as the villain behind it all (when he heard WKX and ZZS talking). How would he go from knowing that to thinking ZJ should be the new head of the alliance? As a matter of fact, how could Shen Shen?  

Ye Baiyi has to be in on it unless WKX suddenly gained so much martial arts ability in the short time since they last fought. I mean, it only makes sense that WKX got so much stronger because he got injured by YBY, then depleted his strength saving Han Ying. 

So ZCL, YBY, Scorpion King and his buddies, fellow ghosts, possibly Shen Shen... WKX only kept it from the two people closest to him? The two most likely to do something stupid when they find out? *flails at this logic* 

The scene where ZZS's nails magicked their way out of his body... It's so awkward!!! I mean, we're supposed to feel emotional, but the special effects are just awful. I tried not to skip through it, I failed. 

So now what? ZZS essentially sacrificed himself to help WKX complete his goal. He gave up on his chance to be saved to fulfil WKX's pursuit of revenge (and take revenge for WKX's death). And it's all because of a misunderstanding. 

Between ZZS's nails and the ZCL-issue, I'm drowning in dog blood. What happened to WKX and ZCL's characters/personalities???? 

Also episode 32 is VERY choppy, it seems like we’re jumping to scenes randomly, the flow isn’t there. 

I can only say that the "Priest" spirit is gone; it's not a bad drama by any means. I'm still watching & I'm still going to buy the new episodes on Tuesday. But the random angst and abusive scenes inserted without no reason nor much logic are very un-Priest-like. 

I feel a little cheated about the scriptwriter being a fan of Priest. Priest's novels always feature couples who communicate. The supporting characters can come off flat in a drama sometimes because they're so normal. They don't have ridiculous backstories that make them tragic villains, and they behave logically. 

The angst "created" in Priest's novels makes sense. Characters don't suddenly change their personalities so that we can watch something exciting. The "dog blood angst/drama" is the big failing of so many Asian dramas. *CRIES* 

Now, the GOOD & HAPPY STUFF. 

WKX SAVING A-XU. *heart eyes* 

NGL, no matter how short it was, I liked the horseback scene 

There was a cute moment between Qi Ye and Wu Xi, scriptwriter knows how to ship!! & knows how to make it clear who’s gong/shou lol. 

THE HAIRPIN SCENE. IT’S EVERYTHING.

Even though I’m 90% sure the no-alcohol thing is copied from Sha Po Lang... I have so much love for Gu Yun and ZZS that it made me happy. My drunkards <3 

Did I mention WKX looks extremely pretty when he falls down the cliff? How do you fall so prettily? Plz teach me. 

WKX also looks pretty fake-dead. ZZS looks pretty when he’s heartbroken

I ship xiangcao so hard even though I know what’s gonna happen. (Cao Weining & Gu Xiang) They’re too cute.

I love the Poisonous Bodhisattva, I thought the Tragicomic ghost would be my favourite because of how gorgeous she is, but she’s too tragic & not enough comic. Poisonous Bodhisattva is my new goddess.

#word of honor #opinion #just in case #i don't think anyone would want to #but just in case #don't reblog this #i just wanted to rant

[anon-rebel-writes]

Late Night Talks

Hello everyone! I hope you are having a wonderful day!

So this is a new story (yay!), and I wrote this for my girlfriend! She asked me not to tag her for privacy reasons, but I hope she loves this because this is actually based on a real event!

A quick background, we confessed through the phone and this story is heavily based on that. A lot of the feelings Luka feels are things that I actually felt! The dialogue is pretty similar too (obviously some things are cut out or edited to fit Luka and Mari lol)

My “just-a-friend” got me into MLB and we both love Lukanette, so I thought it’d be fitting to write her a story about Lukanette, based on us, for one of her gifts! Happy birthday, my love! I hope you (and everyone else reading this XD) enjoy it!

The story begins under the cut! <3 Ao3 Link

Soft light from his phone covered his face, forcing his eyes to squint in order to see clearly. His thumb unconsciously moved across the screen, opening up random apps before quickly closing them just to open them again.

The boat was fairly quiet. During the day, he could hear the different movements and various noises from his mother and sister, but this late at night merely left the sounds of waves from the Seine below him. The natural creaking of the boat usually left him relaxed and helped him fall asleep.

Although lately his nights had been occupied by other things, especially one girl.

Luka shifted in his bed, trying to engulf himself in more warmth from his blankets. Did his mattress always feel this stiff and uncomfortable? He never paid it much attention before, it never mattered before. Maybe it was just his mind trying to find something to think about.

He glanced at the time near the top of his screen and saw it was ten after midnight. Well at least it’s not too late yet, or maybe it wasn’t too early yet? She never texted him extremely late (or extremely early). Was it late? When did he care about time so much?

The only reason he thought about the time lately was because of her.

Luka shifted again, pulling up the blanket to cover the blush creeping up his cheeks. He continued to open apps just to close them again. He sighed and turned off the phone, letting the room dim and his eyes rest. Why did this feel so desperate? He used to see himself as a ‘go with the flow’ guy, but she had found a way into his heart and made him question his entire life.

When had he ever checked his phone this much? If she decided to text him tonight (as she had been doing for the past couple of nights), would immediately replying make him seem obsessed? He didn’t want to come off as overbearing. Didn't girls like when guys text fast? She hasn’t seemed to mind it so far. Then again, his only source of reference was his sister, and getting her to reply to him took years off his life.

His phone beeped and the screen lit up, showing a new text message. Luka quickly sat up and hurried to read the message.

‘SOS Can’t sleep again :( Think I might need a ~Luka~ to help (^-^)’

He covered his mouth with his palm, trying to hide the smile consuming his face. When did his nights become like this? Maybe it was desperate to wait for a text, but when the text came from Marinette, he couldn’t find a reason to be upset.

This girl seemed to bring him a whole new type of happiness, even if he was too nervous to text her first. He wanted to give her space and be comfortable around him, so waiting until midnight for a text never bothered him.

While seeing her throughout the day was always amazing, there was a different feeling that came with their late night talks. The fact that she needed to sleep and came to him for help gave him a warmth in his chest he never knew before. Although sometimes it made him feel selfish, seeing as she tended to talk to him when she was tired.

‘Luckily this Luka is always able to help :)’

And he really was always able to help, at least he tried to be. Luka helped everyone. Whether it was his family, friends, strangers, co-workers, he always lended a hand. But when it came to Marinette, he’d drop everything to run to her.

‘Yesss! Call me! Mama needs some Luka time!’

He tried to stifle a laugh and rolled his eyes at his phone. His body was hunched over the edge of the bed, watching his phone with intense eyes, as if the messages would disappear if he looked away.

In the mornings, he always found himself worried about that, as if the night before only existed in his mind. He’d hurry back to his phone to re-read the messages, making sure that Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the girl who chased off his nightmares and reinvented his dreams, really spent her night with him. Even if it was through a screen, even if it was for an hour, the messages were there to remind him that for a moment, she was his and he was hers. He was always hers, if she wanted him to be.

Luka slowly leaned back onto his bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. He put one hand behind his head and took a deep breath. His calm personality wasn’t an act, Luka was definitely a level-headed person, but he was still human. And as a human, a pretty girl talking to him late at night gave him lots of nerves.

He quickly shook off any tension he felt and pressed the call button. The phone only rang once before the sweetest voice he’d ever heard took over. “Hi Luka! Sorry, I know it’s late and everything, but I couldn’t sleep and… Oh wait, you told me I shouldn’t apologize, sorry! Or- wait, I just said sorry. Wow, I’m sorry- Shoot! I said it again-”

She was rambling, rotating between apologizing to him and trying to explain why she called him. As much as he loved (was that too serious of a word?) her, he also knew that if he didn’t reel her in, she’d spiral out of control.

“Don’t worry, Mari, you’re fine. But I gotta be honest, I didn’t expect this. I mean, calling a boy so late at night… not once, but multiple times in a row? How scandalous of you, Mel’.”

He heard a scoff through the phone and a lot of rustling. “Oh Luka, you should know I am the most scandalous of girls. In case you haven’t heard, I call lots of boys and girls at night.” Her voice took on a fake sounding ‘tough guy’ accent. He rolled his eyes and let out a chuckle. “Wow boys andgirls? I didn’t know I was talking to a criminal.”

Honestly at this point he wouldn’t put it past her to be a criminal, she seemed to have a habit of stealing people’s hearts. He’d never tell her that though. One, she seemed to have a strange distaste for bad jokes, two, that meant he’d have to admit that he liked her (but the word ‘like’ didn’t seem strong enough).

“What?! I wouldn’t take it that far! I’m a total supporter of the law!”

Luka moved the phone from his ear to his chest. His face pinched tightly, trying to hold back any laughter that formed. His body tensed up from holding it in, as much as Juleka definitely deserved some payback for the loud laughing she tended to do so late at night, he really didn’t want to deal with a cranky sister. He quickly moved the phone back to his ear and took a deep breath.

“Yeah, that’s true. It’s kinda funny how different we are, not that I don’t support the law. It’s just when you have a mom like mine, it’s kinda hard to keep it in mind.” Marinette laughed through the phone and his chest felt like it was on fire.

Everything about her was so sweet, her laugh, her personality, she was amazing. Even when the mornings came and his head throbbed from the lack of sleep, he would never change these moments with her for anything in the world.

Sounds of fabric and movement came through the speaker along with a small hum of agreement. “Yeah I am pretty amazing at following the law. It’s kinda like a job at this point… Not that I have a job with the law! I don’t do that. That would be weird. Uh- anyways! Your job! Wait, that's not exciting. Oh man I’m so nervous tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Melody, it’s fine. My job isn’t very exciting, but I’m sure your day was, right? Mind telling me about it? You know I love listening to you.”

A gasp came through the other end of the phone and then a very thorough retelling of the events from the day. He slowly closed his eyes and imagined everything she told him. She left the bakery this morning to hang out with Alya, she probably wore that new beret she made, along with some cute, pink shoes to match.

He imagined her sitting under a tree at the park to draw, it was sunny and hot today, so she probably took her jacket off to get comfortable. She told him how she went out to get orange juice with Kagami, he could practically hear her smile through the phone as she told him about it.

Everything with Marinette was simple, by no means easy, but simple. He knew her well enough to understand how she felt, and she was the same way with him. They just got each other. She didn’t need to tell him the details because she knew he would already know. When he tried to explain a decision he made in a new song, she didn’t have to know what he was saying to understand him. Luka found it easy to just ignore the details, because Marinette was talented enough to fill them in herself.

Luka stayed quiet as he processed her words, filling in the details himself. He loved spending his nights like this, he didn’t mind messing with his sleeping schedule (or lack thereof). He loved to replay every moment of sincerity and kindness she showed throughout her day. He loved to hear about new projects she worked on, because her talent went beyond anything he’d ever seen.

She was miraculous.

“-But yeah, I guess that was my day! Not super exciting, but I think it was okay? I hope it was, at least.” Exciting? That was just one of the many adjectives he could use to describe her. Talented, exciting, clumsy, but so intelligent. Even on her dull days, he got excited just hearing her about random thoughts she had throughout the day. “Marinette… you’re extraordinary, honestly. Your day sounds wonderful. You’re wonderful. I don't know- You make me feel wonderful.”

Was he oversharing? Probably. He was definitely bad with words, but he wasn’t lying. His hands fisted his shirt as he waited for a response. The other end of the phone call went strangely silent. He could faintly hear the hum of the phone and the waves of the water outside his window. Why did the phone get quiet?

The last thing he’d ever want to do was make her uncomfortable, maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. What if he told her too much? A soft squeal pulled him out of his thoughts and he focused back on the phone. “Um-! That’s...really sweet, Luka! You’re wonderful too… Or- Extraordinary I mean! You make me feel extraordinary, all the time. So- I don’t know, thank you?” His chest tightened. How much longer could he keep up with this act?

Pretending to be ‘just a friend’ might be easier for some people, but it was torture for him. Did she have these late night talks with other people? Did she ever hold anyone else’s hands when hers feels cold? Did she ever kiss them on the cheek to say goodbye? Luka was never one to push his luck, despite protests from his sister and mom, but nights like tonight made it hard.

“Don’t thank me, it’s just the truth, Mari. I should be thanking you, for making my nights a lot better, y’know?”

It was the truth. But there was so much more he could say. All of her quirks and amazing qualities always left his head feeling dizzy. He could write symphonies merely based on the person she was, let alone his feelings for her.

Yet he always kept those melodies to himself, even if he wanted to share them with the world, or share them with her. Nights like these make him feel like he could take on anything life throws at him. For Marinette, he probably could.

Another squeal came through the phone and a loud thud. He quickly sat up in a panic and pressed the phone even closer to his ear. “Marinette? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?” Loud thumping came through the receiver and more panicked sounds.

“S-sorry! That was just- I just- Ugh… I dropped my phone, sorry. You just- you should know that… This is gonna sound lame, but you make my nights better too… Heck, I even listen to your cover songs throughout the day, so I guess you make my days better too? Wait, that sounds weird, sorry! I don’t mean to say it in a weird way...”

Luka’s eyes widened and his heart felt as if it was trying to beat out of his chest. His hand unconsciously moved to his chest and grabbed tightly onto his shirt. The breath leaving him was shaky and weak. It felt like the world stopped spinning for a moment.

All at once, the feelings he tried to hide came boiling over and any sensible thought that told him to conceal his affections raced out of his mind. Before he could stop himself, Luka’s mouth moved on its own.

“Can we facetime? Or anything similar to that, please?”

Without getting an answer, his phone started ringing. He turned the phone to his face and saw himself staring back. As soon as Luka answered the call his eyes wandered across his screen, taking in Marinette’s face.

Her hair was still in pigtails, but different strands stuck out in an adorable way. The camera showed her snuggled into her bed as she laid on her side, with her pink comforter pulled over her lower face, covering her cheeks and nose. A large cat pillow rested just behind her head, unnervingly staring at him. Because most of her face was hidden, Luka noticed her eyes, and suddenly he felt very self aware of his position.

Quickly laying back down on his bed, Luka awkwardly raised one arm to lay behind his head, trying to feign an relaxed appearance. He tried to give her the closest thing to an easygoing smile as he could manage at the moment, which definitely felt a little forced seeing as how he was now (sort of) face to face with Marinette. Trying to hide any tension he was feeling, he cleared his throat, inwardly hoping she couldn’t read how nervous he was.

“Uh- Hey, Mar- Melody. Love the cat pillow. Totally don’t feel like it’s about to jump into your phone and attack me.”

She raised a hand to her mouth, attempting to cover her laughter. Her eyes scrunched, smile widened, and Luka’s heart soared. Marinette managed to roll onto her back letting the beautiful sound ring throughout the room. The blanket dropped and uncovered the entirety of her face.

After a moment of joy, she tried to quickly recollect herself. She turned her head back to the phone and stuck out her tongue. “Silly. Just so you know I’m banning you from making me laugh this late again. You’re gonna make my stomach hurt!”

Luka started laughing too, loosely covering his mouth, not caring about waking anyone up anymore. “That’s gonna be a problem, you should know that I’m kinda hilarious, so you should fully expect me to break that rule. Very quickly.”

They both joined in quiet giggling before Marinette covered her mouth with her hand again and gasped. “I just told you that you’re banned from making me laugh!”

“Hey, I warned you! You can’t be mad when I literally just warned you!”

The two teens burst into laughter once more. Luka calmed down quicker than Marinette did, so he saw her laughing face a second time. She was beautiful. Every time he saw her, he swore she wasn’t real. No real person could be as stunning as she was.

Whenever she worked on a new project and her hair flopped over her face, she was gorgeous. The times when she helps their friends out, her eyes are always so gentle, she’s divine. Even when she’s stressed out, the moments when she feels at her lowest, Luka can’t help but notice how angelic she looks.

She’s breathtaking without even trying.

Once Marinette collected herself, her eyes turned soft and precious as she looked back at the phone. Even through a screen, her stare set his soul on fire. His mind went blank for a second before he lost all sense of reason.

“Did you really mean it when you said I make your days and nights better?”

Her eyes widened slightly at his question, and he finally realized what just came out of his mouth. ‘Great job, Couffaine. You just made it weird!’Luka shook his head and moved the camera slightly away from his face, moving his gaze from the phone. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up again-”

“I mean it.”

His eyes shot back to her and saw how she snuggled back into her bed again. Her eyes were looking away, but the redness in her face showed him exactly where her mind was. “I meant what I said… Did- Well, did you mean it too? When you said I made your nights better?”

There it was again. The shaky breath, the longing look in his eyes, the fuzziness in his chest. With a simple answer, she turned him into putty and without even realizing it.

Luka moved his arm to rest on his eyes, attempting to hide any sign that would show how he felt, just in case she didn’t mean her words the way he wanted her to mean them. He’d never blame her for not being too clear, even if it hurt him. Any affection, whether friendly or romantic, should’ve been fine with him.

“This is gonna sound bad, but my phone is full of screenshots from our FaceTime calls.” Luka lifted his arm up slightly to gauge a reaction from her. But her eyes were glued on him, he couldn’t pick up on a clear response, so he covered his eyes again and continued.

“I… this is so creepy- sometimes I look at pictures of you and… it makes my day better too? That sounds so weird. It sounded a lot cuter in my head-” A loud cackle interrupted him and his arm shot away from his eyes. He saw Marinette digging herself even deeper into her massive blanket (and creepy cat pillow), trying to hide her laughter.

She must’ve noticed his silence because her eyes popped out of the blanket to look back at her screen. “Sorry, that’s just… that’s so cute! You take screenshots from our facetime calls?”

Her lopsided smile made his cheeks burn. He tried to gain back his level-headedness by rolling his eyes at her. He brought the phone closer to stick his tongue out at her. “I wouldn’t call me ‘cute’ if you don’t want me to call you ‘adorable’ for listening to those covers.”

Marinette stuck her tongue out at him in retaliation and hid her face back into the blanket. He took a quick, deep breath, silently thanking himself for being able to play his awkwardness off.

“I can’t believe I actually admitted that to you- That’s cold-blooded, Luka! Teasing a girl’s love is mean!”

They both paused for a second, taking in her words. The cabin suddenly felt a lot smaller than it was. His blood felt boiling hot yet icy cold all at once. His face slacked and yet tensed in different places. Looking at her and seeing her eyes expand let him know she was probably feeling the same way.

“Love?”

It sounded so easy. When she said it, it felt right. Full of affection without being overbearing. But then Marinette’s gaze moved off screen. She sunk into herself, yet not playfully like before. The energy of the call changed into something else, something new. “I… shouldn’t say anymore. I’m… sorry, Luka. I’m so sorry; I feel so selfish. I call you so late just to ruin your night by making things weird, and I’m so sorry.”

He watched as she shifted in her bed; he saw the edge of her thumb on the screen, hovering over it, as if she was about to end the call. “That’s not-! Marinette, that’s not true. If you’re selfish… If you’re selfish, then I must be the most greedy guy in the world.”

Marinette swiftly stared at the screen, her mouth opened as if she was going to rebuttal his statement. Before she could, he spoke first.

“I’ve been staying up every night, hoping and begging that you’d text me, or call me, or give me any attention at all. And I do it, knowing that you message me when you’re tired and need to rest. I know that spending time with me only takes away time you need to sleep. So yes, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy,”

Luka slowly sat up as he stared into the screen, clutching it as if it was the most important thing in the world, and at this moment, it was. Marinette moved the blanket off her face slightly and he saw her face flush with color. His voice felt raw as his throat tightened and his face burned. He couldn’t even register the tear that raced down his cheek. When did he get so emotional?

“But Melody, Mari, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I want your attention so bad. I want your affection and anything else you give me. I’ve been trying so hard to bite my tongue around you, to pretend like I think of you as my friend. But I love…”

He shut his mouth fast. What was he doing? He was destroying everything for these feelings. Why would she like him? She gives everyone affection. Marinette loved everyone, it was just who she was. What was he doing? He looked around his room and realized the situation he put himself in. He quickly put his phone on the bed next to him and pulled his knees to his chest.

Did he ruin their relationship? Would she stop having these late night talks with him? Would she still hold his hands when hers felt cold? Would she ever kiss his cheek to say goodbye again? What was he doing?

This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. It all happened so fast. He reached for his phone to apologize and to hopefully scavenge whatever was left of their friendship.

“I love you too, Luka.”

His hand stopped just above his phone and he waited. He listened to the small buzzing sound from his phone, the waves moving against the boat, gentle breathing coming from Marinette.

“I love you… and I wanna be selfish. I wanna be greedy and I wanna be with you.”

Luka found the courage to lift the phone to his face and stare back at her. Marinette now sat up, her face was bright red with tear stains down her cheeks. Her eyes were slightly puffy and he was sure his were too. The only light on her face was her phone and even with everything, she looked beautiful.

“I wanna be with you too, Marinette. Always, for as long as you’ll have me. Wake me up at three A.M. everynight for the rest of my life, I don’t care. I just wanna be with you too. I love you.”

It felt so right. It wasn’t too much when he said it. He meant it to be heavy and weighted. But it didn’t feel forced or extreme. It was just right. They stared at each other for a moment more. His eyes raced across every centimeter of the screen, taking in every aspect of her, her eyes doing the same. Smiles spread across her face as they both chuckled, their laughter laced with happy tears.

Luka wiped his eyes, trying to calm himself down (despite his teenage hormones telling him that he should continue to cry and sob from the utter euphoria he was feeling). Marinette tugged at her pigtails with one hand, seeking to find comfort.

“This wasn’t the way I thought we’d confess, y’know. I always thought you’d write me a song, or I’d make you a new jacket. Some big gesture instead of us sobbing,” she chuckled.

He stopped wiping his eyes to laugh again. His smile grew, even as he tasted his tears. “Yeah, sorry about that. I promise I have plenty of songs for you, and about you and everything. I can grab my guitar if you want, but you might hear Juleka complaining in the background.”

They shared one final laugh before the exhaustion of crying kicked in and they both laid back down. Marinette wrapped herself in blankets one final time, holding the dubious cat pillow tight against her. Luka found himself in a similar position, he laid on his side, his face squished against his pillow and the blanket pulled under his chin.

They stared at each other, making small conversation about their feelings. Luka could hardly remember all that happened after that, he felt such relief and happiness from everything that the rest of the night felt fuzzy.

He glanced at the time at the top of his screen and noticed it was now closer to three-thirty. Luka took a deep breath before sighing. He saw Marinette’s eyes getting smaller and smaller with each second.

He knew that they should hang up soon, but he really wanted to be selfish and keep her on the phone. “Luka…”

Marinette slowly opened an eye to look back at him. Their smiles grew once again. “Are you gonna take another screenshot of me?” Her smile turned sly and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s cold-blooded, Mel’. Teasing a guy’s love is mean,” he stuck out his tongue, just for good measure. But then he sneakily took one screenshot, to remind himself that tonight was real and not just a dream. Tonight, Marinette was his and he was hers, and hopefully it’ll stay like that for a long time.

Her eyes drifted back closed, but her smile never left. “...Love you… Luka….”

Warmth engulfed his chest, leaving him feeling light and airy. The mattress underneath him felt soft and perfect. The dryness on his cheeks from earlier tears didn’t bother him at all. He was content and full of love.

While the confession was unexpected, he wouldn’t change it for the world. As much as he loved her clothing and as many songs as he had for her, he knew nothing would’ve compared to tonight. As he looked back at her sleeping face, he had a feeling she felt the same.

“I love you too, Marinette.”

#pro lukamari #lukanette #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #ao3 #fluff #love confessions #mlb #late night calls #late night #texting #calling #facetime

[bella-caecilia]

Purple (my favorite color)

Thank you so much for prompting me! I had multiple ideas for the various symbols for purple but I went with the one that complemented the discussion Cobert had about Sybil in the last drabble. It’s set in series 3 episode 7 (so naturally, a bit sad but I tried to make it wholesome nevertheless). I hope you enjoy what I made of your prompt :) (Parts of the dialogue belong to JF)

Purple – Spirituality

The lightness of the day was only hesitantly accepted by the Crawley family. The Crawley family and the Bransons. Tom and little Sybbie. Well, and Tom’s brother but he was more present in the whole occurrence than the Crawleys wished for.

It was the day of the christening, and they had gone a long way to perform it this concordantly now. The baby was christened after the first period of mourning. The guests of the catholic event were allowed to wear colours. The men still wore their black suits, and Mama opted for her all-black attire as well. If she was mourning the confession that marked this whole event and claimed her only great-grandchild or really still the premature death of her youngest granddaughter though stayed a mystery.

Cora and her two daughters (it hurt so much to say it like that and Cora felt horrible every time she had to accept once again that for the world outside, she had only two children now) wore costumes of different shades of lilac. They were truly beautiful dresses and it was the first time since the horror of a night that had been little Sybbie’s birth that Cora had deliberately chosen something charming to wear. She felt good and she felt like she was allowed to (maybe even deserved to) feel good. Sybil would want her to enjoy the day of the christening of her baby’s baby. She would smile about the fact that it was like a déjà vu to Mary’s wedding. Cora had been wearing nearly the same lilac look back then (it had been made for Mary’s wedding), and Sybil would love her child’s christening to be an event just as joyful.

Even if the day was slightly tense due to the multitude of people’s believes and goals, and even if this tension was veiled with forced amicability, Cora was at ease. Most of all though, she sensed that she was more at peace with everyone and everything around her – with life and its cruel acts – than she had been for months. She was at peace for a simple fact that helped her fall asleep later that day as she realised it.

The family had been driven to the church in nearly complete silence. A few words were exchanged here and there, and they held more excited anticipation than Cora had hoped for. She had been utterly relieved first when Robert had accepted the circumstances for Sybbie’s christening without a bigger fuss, and second, when she had got him into the motor without a conflict between him and Mr Branson, Tom’s brother, ensuing until then. Everyone wanted today’s day to be a happy and successful day but one couldn’t be quite sure with the potential for conflict that smouldered within the heterogeneous group.

With her husband by her side, Cora looked forward to the ceremony itself. She knew it was what Sybil had wanted because it was what Tom wanted. So, Cora wanted to make sure things happened that way. She held onto Robert’s hand as the motor juddered over the gravel. He threw her a short glance before both directed their gazes out the car windows again. He looked a little strained. Cora knew it irritated him that he didn’t know what exactly they had to expect from the catholic christening ceremony, and even though, the entire event was no big deal for her she tried to understand what made it so hard for him. It wasn’t proper for an Earl’s granddaughter she knew. But she didn’t care for that enough to seriously waste her thoughts on that. She hoped, showing Robert how she was able to enjoy the day for her daughters’ and granddaughter’s sake would help him too. She covered their locked hands with her second one and gently rubbed his knuckles and the back of his hand. She turned around and searched his face for anything other than mere tension.

“I am very grateful that this day could be realised like this,” she said softly.

Robert furrowed his brow. “I don’t know if making Sybil’s daughter a catholic is the best start for her life we could give her,” he grumbled but without real conviction. He argued because it wasn’t fully his choice to set the day the way it was not because he really wanted to change something about it.

“You know that the best start for Sybbie’s life we could give her is a warm welcome into a loving family. With supporting her father, and even if this might be in first choices we don’t entirely agree with, we’re building the foundation for the love Sybil’s daughter deserves.” Cora’s vivid eyes had locked with his and their expression altered from imploring sincerity to soft fondness.

Robert squeezed his wife’s hand and his eyes swept over her face as he managed a tight-lipped smile. He then turned his gaze back outside.

“I just want it to be over already,” he mumbled.

“I know.”

The ceremony was even less of a deal than Cora had expected. Tom who mostly looked very strained and ruminative lately, and especially today, even had moments of blessed smiles. When Mary as the godmother got to hold the baby, Cora was at least as blissful as Tom. She thought Tom had made a good choice with Mary, and there had to be something about his brother Kieran that made him a reasonable choice as well.

Robert sat next to her, kneading his hands with an otherwise calm demeanour. It would be easier afterwards she silently agreed with him. Robert could see Sybbie just as Sybbie then, apart from everything that might separate grandfather and grandchild elsewise.

The moment they left the church they were greeted by inviting light weather. The guests of the christening were in a slightly more frolic mood, and chatter arose here and there before the photographer ordered them to get into place for the pictures that would be taken.

“If you could all form a group around the father,” the photographer said.

Mary, who had still been carrying the baby, handed Sybbie cautiously to Tom.

“Here she is,” Cora cooed. The little girl was really a delight, and Cora enjoyed that Mary took to the baby as well. She hadn’t been sure if it would be like that.

Mary, Cora, and Edith now stood at the side of the group next to each other. They must make quite the picture in their flowing lilac dresses.

“It seems so strange without Sybil here,” Edith mentioned in a light thoughtfulness.

Cora watched into the distance but she saw something else. Her daughters’ thoughts were wandering back to the present scenery meanwhile. Everyone was gathering more closely around Tom and the baby.

“She’s watching,” Cora said. “I know,” her words were spoken in calm certainty. Her eyes were glued to some point faraway. As if she had eye contact with Sybil standing behind the stone wall surrounding the church and its graveyard. Cora didn’t have to look out for her, and she wasn’t surprised to find her there. It was as if she had agreed upon it with Sybil beforehand. Sybil would be there, and Cora just reassured herself of that after Edith’s comment.

“I envy you. I wish I did,” Mary responded. Her voice was downcast, her tone little hopeful. Cora’s heart was warm with pictures from Sybil. She was vindicated in her faith that Sybil would still somehow guide the ways of her dearest ones. She looked over her daughter’s christening as she had an eye on all the moves of the family that needed a little more courage. The courage she always had. Sybil’s spirit wasn’t lost. She had provoked them to be better humans and her spirit that accompanied them would continue to do so.

A little part of Cora wished she had realised it before today. It maybe would have made things a bit easier to bear. It might have avoided how deep the rift between Robert and her had become. But they made it. And probably Cora would grieve just the same, no matter the circumstances. How much more bearable would a little more faith have made it truly? It was no use. What was left of Sybil was the little family she had left behind. Cora vowed once more that they had to cherish them. The little family and her blessed spirit.

When the picture was taken, Cora didn’t look at the camera. Her gaze was still set on that point afar. For a fleeting moment, after the flash had lit up, a light figure began wandering outside the wall of the cemetery. The purple coat and hat her dear daughter's figure was dressed in were exact copies of Cora’s own garments. With a smile, Sybil turned away from the church and slowly wandered into the distance on the path behind the wall. Her vision faded after a few seconds, a little bit later than the imprints of the camera flash on her retina. But Cora tried her best to imprint the last smile of her daughter on her mind for years to live off.

Cora’s days got easier with the christening, little by little. After having Robert back at her side, there was something else now that helped her immensely. Cuddling up beside her husband at night, she realised what it was. Her eyes fell shut with a small sentimental smile grazing her features.

She was at peace because her dear girl was with her.

Sybil was with her.

#cobert fanfiction #cobert drabble #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #s3 #s3e7 #downton abbey fanfiction #downton abbey

[reluctant-mandalore]

hello i just wanna say I loveeee your blog and your fanfics!! <3 can you write a thing where the reader is telling some things to Din that's from their homeworld Earth?? like explaining social media, pop culture things, and some animals?? i'd love a struggling Din trying to comprehend what a DM is (>艸<) o(>V<)o

Warnings: Fluff, Earth things, light flirting, not beta read, din is confused af

Word Count: 1342

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

a/n: I won’t lie. I had a bit of trouble with this one, and I don’t think its any of my best work. But I hope its enjoyable either way! Its a little dialogue heavy, I was exploring dialogue with this piece for sure, but I also felt like it did better with more than less in terms of them speaking. I didn’t have much inspiration in mind for this one, but honestly I still think its still a little cheeky fic with a healthy amount of fluff between Din and the reader. Soooo enjoy! 

Edit: og fic had a “whats a dm?” convo but it didnt really flow right so I removed it and did the spilling the tea thing instead. Hope that was fine anon! I mean... I still have that convo in my scrap doc now, so if you still wanted to see it I could publish it as a blurb. But its really up to y’all if you want to see Din confused over a dm. 

The Mandalorian had immersed himself in looking through that datapad he currently held in his hands. Double checking the list of supplies you both had picked up the day earlier and making sure it had all been placed in the correct storage areas. A task which he found dull, but had busied himself with anyway. If there was one thing he hated—it was a disorganized ship.

This is where you had found him when going down to the hull. Spotting him among the many crates within its vancity and practically skipping over to join him. A bright smile on your cheeks and excitement bubbling inside of you for the day that you two had planned together.

“Hey Din! Ready to head out?”

The Mandalorian had glanced up from what he was doing, allowing his gaze to connect with yours. Soon feeling himself smile at the sight of your own grin. He had nodded in assurance, before going back to fiddling with the datapad in his hands, “I well be, just got to finish up with this here. Are you?”

“Yup! Ready whenever you are tin man!” You had said with a wink, sitting on one of the closed crates and watching as he went about his work. He had rolled his eyes under the helmet at your nickname, choosing to ignore it for the time being though and going back to focusing on the task at hand. Finding himself wanting to get it finished soon so that the two of you could leave.

“Oh, before I forget.” He had suddenly spoken, lifting his head from the screen to look towards you again, “We got a message from Fett earlier when you were busy.”

“Oh we did?” You replied nonchalantly, standing again and patting away the dust now on your clothes. Before pulling up closer to him and taking a peek at the device he was still holding, “What’s the tea? Spill it for me.”

Din had paused in his movements slowly looking up to connect his gaze with yours once more. The confusion he felt evident even with the helmet shielding his features from your view. The realization of your slip up causing a wave of embarrassment to rush through you. Although, your shyness had soon left at hearing the next question he had asked.

“What is this... spilling of the Tea?”

“It’s just a saying.” You said, resisting the laugh that had pulled at your throat from his choice of wording, keeping it down as you smiled at the confused man, “Sorry Din, I sometimes forget that you don’t always know all the same lingo that I do.”

“Ah I see... So it was one of your Earth sayings then?”

You had rolled your eyes at his words, a teasing grin playing on your lips now, “Of course it was, what did you think it would be?”

Din had shrugged, looking away again as he felt himself blush in shyness, even though he knew you wouldn’t be seeing his heated cheeks anyway, “I dunno, maybe it's one of those weird animals you were talking about the other day.”

“Hippos aren’t weird!” You had gasped in mock shock, putting on a show of seeming offended from his accusation, “They’re cute!”

“Yeah sure,” He had said, the teasing smile he wore evident in just his voice alone, “Whatever you say, Cyar’ika.”

“You’d think they were too if you actually saw one.”

After your words, you had moved away from him again, going over to look through the crates of supplies he had scattered around him. You had poked through them with interest, making a face of disgust at seeing some of the protein bars you didn’t like littered within. The expression had earned you a huff of laughter from the armor covered man. The sound of it making you let out a small giggle yourself, a flush of warmth heating your skin, as you both soon found yourselves falling into a comfortable silence.

“What does it mean?” He had asked suddenly, after some time had passed, breaking the cloud of silence within the room, “The spilling of the tea I mean. Why would you spill tea over a message?”

Hearing him speak you had looked towards him, letting out a small laugh at his questioning. His naiveness over the ordeal making your heart flutter and roll with affection for the man. An odd need to pinch his metal cheeks pulling at your mind, though you stopped yourself from doing so, knowing he probably wouldn’t be too fond of such an action.

“Well it doesn’t literally mean spilling tea.” You had said with a shrug, “It basically just means sharing some good gossip.”

Din had hummed in understanding, “I see. Though I can’t imagine Fett sharing any gossip like that.”

“Are you kidding?” You replied, giving him a look of doubt, “I bet him and Fennec sit up on that throne of theirs gossiping all day.”

A loud laugh had left the Mandalorian at your theory—a rare treat that you found yourself overjoyed with—watching him shake his head at the silliness of it all. He never knew how you came up with these ideas of yours, but they always seemed to bring a smile to his face either way.  

“You know I’m right!”

“It’s not that,” He had said, another chuckle leaving him, as he set down the datapad and put everything else away, “You have such strange things from Earth. They seem unreal at times.”

“Oh I see…”

“I mean. I like learning Earth things from you, no matter how strange they may be.” He had said, looking away almost bashfully as he tried to work out his choice of words, “I… I like getting to know more about you.”

A heat had flushed through you at his confession, your heart thundering loudly within your chest, “Well in that case... I can teach you more Earth things.”

You had moved closer to him after your words, a flirty tone finding itself laced within your voice. One of your hands trailing up his chestplate and resting upon it as you leaned into him. Now toying with his cape fondly as you continued speaking, “I wouldn’t mind and it would be something nice to do together.”

“Sure.” He had managed to reply, his mind feeling fuzzy with your sudden closeness, “As long as it's not one of those strange tik tok trends you were doing the other night.”

“Tiktok isn’t strange! It’s fun!” He had looked at you with his brows raised, the helmet hiding them, but his skeptical gaze still obvious,  “Ok maybe it's a little strange, but I promise you’ll enjoy it. You should learn one of the dances with me later. I can teach you one!”

“I don’t dance.” He had replied quickly and sternly. Turning away in an attempt to leave the conversation, though you wouldn’t let him get away with it that easily.

“Oh come on Din…” You pouted, moving around to his front again and giving him your best puppy dog eyes. The sight of them managing to melt his heart in an instant no matter the situation, “It’ll be fun! Plus, you wanted to learn more about Earth stuff right?”

Din had sighed, realizing how his words were now coming back to bite him. Giving you one final look over before admitting defeat, knowing he wouldn’t win this stand off with you anytime soon, “Fine. But you don’t tell anyone.”

“Pinky promise!” You had said with a cheeky smile. Soon holding out your pinky towards him in offering, wanting him to swear the promise with you in that manner, the same way that two foundlings might.

The Mandalorian had rolled his eyes underneath the helmet again, but still possessing the bright smile spread across his cheeks. Soon he had held his own pinky out, interlocking it with yours and giving a firm nod of approval. Another flush of warmth flooding through you at the gesture and causing for your heart to flutter happily once more.

“It’s a deal.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando #din #the mandalorian fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfic #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #my fics #requests #not one of my best #but still a fun and cheeky one! #I think at least #I was exploring with dialogue a lot with this one #ngl #Fic: Earthling

[prettywordsyouleft]

Miss Writer

Pairing: Brian Kang x female reader

World: To Be Continued

Genre: writer au / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: So I had no intentions of returning to the TBC world so soon, but as you can read below, I had a bit of trouble trying to write something for 2021 and this is the result of my nonsense thoughts at the time. I really am happy I wrote this as it feels like a good opening act for what’s to come this year!

Word count: 1558

“Hey! Did you hear about the writer who didn’t want to write?”

“They what?”

“She sat there for hours on end, just avoiding every idea that came to mind.”

“But why? Aren’t writers meant to write?”

“Why am I writing this?” you complained out loud, sighing heavily and leaning back in your computer chair. Staring at the basic dialogue in your word document, you groaned.

Why was it so hard to write?

You had been through this before. Where the words wouldn’t flow the right way, and your characters felt hollow.

But that was because Brian wasn’t in the story at the time.

You couldn’t solve this the way you had back then either. Once Brian had gone back into the world he had stepped out of, you finished the story without any further mishaps. In this case, you didn’t have any other fictional characters stepping out of any novel you had written to send back in. You didn’t even have a character to write about.

That was no doubt the whole problem.

“Miss Writer,” a voice called out, and you turned, smiling warmly at the man leaning against the threshold. Brian tipped his head in your direction. “How’s it going? Is your next bestseller getting ready to leap onto the pages?”

“Ha! At the rate I’m going, I might as well retire.”

“What?” Walking over to your side, Brian then leaned down to inspect your laptop’s screen. “You’ve written only four lines in two hours.”

“Four lines are better than none, though, I can’t say they’re four impressive lines,” you muttered, pouting up at the man. “I’m broken.”

“Shall I fix you?” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were almost on yours when the doorbell rang. Brian heaved in a heavy breath. “If that’s Sungjin, I swear…”

“It’s probably Lily,” you mentioned with a knowing smile, climbing out of your chair and heading down to the front door to answer it. When you swung it open, however, you merely stared back at the woman standing there.

“Can we help you?” Brian asked from over your shoulder, right when you gasped noisily. “Y/N?”

“You’re… you’re… no way.”

Sungjin leaned around the side of the house and grinned. “Y/N! You need to stop making people so realistic that they come to life.”

“I’m confused,” Brian announced as you began to bounce with excitement, reaching out to touch the woman’s hand before you.

She grabbed it warmly and grinned at you. “I’m so amazed to finally meet you!”

“Ella,” you murmured and then glanced at Sungjin standing all too protectively at her side. “You found your Constable.”

“Ella?” Brian echoed and then lurched forward, leaning over you. “Ella from the Protector story?!”

Ella nodded and held out her hand to Brian. “You must be the first of our kind, Brian Kang, right?”

“Our kind?”

“Well, I had to explain it somehow to Ella,” Sungjin admitted with a chuckle. “It’s not every day that characters step out of documents, now is it?”

“Maybe that’s why I can’t write,” you murmured, watching the instant despair cross over your friend’s face, whilst a smug smile appeared on your partner’s. Rolling your eyes, you shunted Brian in the side before stepping aside and letting them inside. “Come, I promise this time I’m more equipped to dealing with my characters in the flesh. I won’t be fainting this time.”

“I’m starting to get worried now,” Brian confessed later in the evening as he carried your cat Binks around. “If Ella’s here too, who’s going to be next?”

“Well, considering I can’t seem to create anyone, you won’t have a problem any time soon.”

Brian pointed at you in warning. “Don’t you dare go opening Destined’s file.”

“Ooh, now there’s an idea!” you teased, grinning at Brian as you approached him. Stretching up to kiss him softly, you shook your head. “I doubt I could love anymore more than you if I tried.”

“And you always say I’m the charmer yet here you are causing my heart to go erratic with lines like that,” Brian stated with a giddy smile, his eyes disappearing and turning into little crescents.

“Well, you can’t be the one with the upper hand all the time.”

“Miss Writer.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think Ella is the problem this time. I think you’re just putting too much pressure on your shoulders.”

“Pressure?” you repeated with a frown and Brian placed Binks down before nodding at you. “Of course, I’m under pressure! I have to get my first chapter to Lily by next week, and I have nothing, not even a name.”

“You’re trying to write the next best thing, aren’t you?”

“That’s the whole concept of being an author, Brian. Writing something better than your last story. We’re always on the path of personal growth during this journey, Brian.”

“I know,” he agreed initially, rubbing your shoulders affectionately. You let out a small whine, not realising how tense your body was until he touched you. Brian instantly moved behind you and started working out the knots residing there. He stopped, leaning close to your ear. “But can’t you just write something for fun?”

“Fun?”

“Isn’t that the whole point of writing? To enjoy the world you create. You’ve been non-stop since I’ve known you. Before my world, you write a four part series with Jinyoung, then a three part series with me and Charli. Right after that, you completed Protector, and now you’re looking to follow that up as quickly as you can even though it’s only in the publication stages.”

Brian stepped around to face you, his face growing concerned. “Why don’t you slow down? Write something just for yourself.”

“I have. I wrote you into existence,” you reminded, and Brian slid his hands around your waist and tugged you closer. Placing your palms upon his chest, you gazed up at him lovingly. “I have to write something worth publishing.”

“Do you?”

“Huh?”

“Why not write something that the world will never see?” Brian offered and you chewed on your bottom lip in thought. “I think you’ve forgotten the joy of writing just for yourself, Miss Writer.”

The following morning, you sat at your desk deep in thought. Brian’s words had played over in your mind throughout the night and still were at the forefront of your mind now.

Did he think you had lost your personal enjoyment along the way as an author?

“Hey, that can’t be right,” you hummed, shaking your head before posing your index finger back up to your lips.

Had you?

The last time you had written something just for your own pure enjoyment was Destined. Sure, you had been excited by your ideas ever since, and laughed, cried, grown frustrated and been endlessly happy with the words you had crafted. But you were also contracted to write down those words. Since the third part of Destined, you had been signed under the publishing house you belonged to and had written consistently since. You hadn’t taken any time to write for yourself, aside from short stories here and there when you didn’t feel like working on a bigger story.

Even though you had enjoyed the journey thus far, it hadn’t been one you took alone.

“Maybe Brian’s right,” you said, blinking a couple of times before reaching into the top drawer of your desk for your external hard-drive. Glancing at the clock to see how much time you had left before Brian got home from running errands, you took in a deep breath, opening up your older fiction files.

Back here you were full of naivety and fresh ideas. The world was your oyster, as the saying went, and you had been hoarding many of them. As you scanned the title of projects you once hoped to write, you shook your head in amazement.

“There’s so many ideas here that I haven’t tried yet,” you breathed, stopping on one and clicking to expand the notes on it. “Wow, an enemies to lovers story.”

You continued to make your way through, finding an assortment of ideas. From fluff to angst, and all those in between, you had ample inspiration here to fill an entire year of stories.

“Should I indulge myself in writing these for a bit and come back to writing my next novel at a later date?” you wondered, your smile growing as your computer’s cursor hovered over an idea that piqued your interest.

“I’m back!” a voice called out and you spun around in your chair, leaping up and dashing into the arms of the man you loved. Brian chuckled. “Well, I missed you too!”

“You were right! Instead of looking for the best idea for my next story, I need to take some time off and write for me.”

“I was, huh?” he mused with satisfaction, cupping your face within his hands. “So what do you plan to write next?”

“I have so many ideas! There’s general domestic stories and a murder mystery, some periodic pieces about pilots and regency era based ideas. Of course, there’s a bunch of fluffy ideas, with a few royal au ones and even pirates! But you know, there’s one I really want to try first.”

“Which is?”

You grinned before poking his nose fondly. “You’ll just have to wait and find out what’s to come.”

_________________

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#kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #young k fanfic #young k scenarios #young k fiction #young k fluff #young k au #young k #day6 #day6 fiction #day6 fanfic #day6 scenarios #day6 fluff #day6 au #pwyl; to be continued #kpop fiction #kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff

[snugglycrow]

My Whole World Tilted on it Axis

Book: The Royal Romance (End of Book 1)

Pairing: Maxwell Beaumont x MC (Charlie Hart)

Rights belong to Pixelberry, most characters and some dialogue belong to them.

Series Summary: Maxwell was tasked to sponsor a woman to compete for Prince Liam’s hand. During Liam’s bachelor party he had found the perfect woman! A waitress from New York with no knowledge of courtly protocol that Liam fell head over heels for. The competition is at an end and the journey is almost complete or so they thought. 

Chapter Summary: At the Coronation ball, Maxwell tries to cheer Charlie up after she received a letter.

Word Count: 2,741

I tapped Charlie on the shoulder and announced myself, “Hey! I’m back.” I handed her the drink I had left to go get.

“Oh, hey Maxwell! Thank you.” Charlie squeaked, spun to face me and grabbed the drink. Sometimes when Charlie was nervous her voice would go up an octave, she claimed her voice had a mind of it’s own despite her vocal training.

“You okay?” I asked, concerned. Just earlier in the Coronation ball, we were given a letter marked urgent for Charlie. We had no idea who it came from but it was definitely threatening. She had every right to be upset.

“Yeah. This whole letter thing is throwing me off my game.” Charlie answered and her hands twitched towards her face. I could tell she wanted to run her hands through her hair but that was hard to do with her hair pinned up in a braided crown.

“You look like you could use a break. How about we get out of here for a little while and get some air?” I urged Charlie to join me hoping to get one last time we could hang out, just the two of us.

Charlie hesitated, looking wistfully towards the door. She countered “But Bertrand said to stay and socialize.” Her nose crinkled, obscuring some of her freckles, suggesting that was the last thing she wanted.

I smiled knowingly and replied “I know but it’s more important that you’re in the right frame of mind for tonight. What do you say, little blossom? It might be the last time we get to hang out before you become Queen!” I saw her swaying to my side of things and her shoulders sagged when I got to the last part.

Charlie nodded and gave in, “Okay, let’s take a break.” We gulped as much of our drinks as we could and then Charlie took the arm I offered. I escorted her outside to the palace grounds knowing her anxiety would be quelled by fresh air and no more crowds. It was very nice outside, we walked towards the ginormous fountain surrounded by a suspiciously green patch of grass. Listening to the water trickling from the fountain was pretty calming.

“It’s amazing to think about how far you’ve come, Charlie.” I mused, watching the water flow.

“Who would have thought that I would be standing here on the eve of potentially being selected as Cordonia’s future Queen?” She asked and looked at me.

“I did, you gotta believe in the person you’re sponsoring!” I gushed and I could feel the grin spreading across my face when I said that because it was true.

“Of course. You called it.” Charlie agreed, returning my smile and squeezed my shoulder in a friendly gesture.

“You know I did. Though I have to admit you’ve changed a bit since I first saw you in New York.” I observed, I always believed in Charlie. I knew she could win Liam’s heart and become queen but there was no question she had changed along the way. With the things she had been through, I’m sure anyone would.

“I don’t feel all that different! All I did was learn some courtly protocol.” Charlie argued, her brows furrowed and her arms were crossed. Uh oh, I didn’t mean to imply it was a bad thing!

“I think you’ve kept the good parts while learning some new skills” I began and winked at her attempting to set Charlie at ease. Her eyebrow raised in question but she couldn’t hide her smirk, that encouraged me to continue “You look like a natural at court now. You’ll manage fine without us. Not that I was ever very much help. I wish we could have showered with gifts, dresses and jewelry. One of the wealthier houses could’ve” I confessed, starting to feel down on myself. Charlie deserved the world and all of those things would have made going after Liam so much easier. I can’t imagine how she felt being constantly judged by others as less than.

“Maxwell! Look at me.” Charlie chastised me and waited until I locked eyes with hers, they were a pretty hazel color “I don’t need any of those things. You’re my best friend, I’m happy to just have you here supporting me and I’m also a New Yorker. We happen to be pretty tough.” Charlie insisted, she grabbed my hand and gave it a supporting squeeze. I shot back a small smile, that did make me feel a little better.

“That’s true, you’re pretty resilient. You’ve always impressed me. I think you’ve even impressed Bertrand too. It’s strange to think that you’ll be Queen soon and Bertrand and I will go back to being Duke Ramsford and his handsome brother.” I responded, agreeing with her.

“Will you two be okay? I’m worried about you guys. Even if I don’t win this thing, my home will always be open to you both.” Charlie implored looking up at me through her lashes, something she had to do a lot considering she was so small at 5’2.

“I really appreciate it, Charlie. I don’t think it’ll come to that. My feelings about believing in you haven’t changed.” I answered, earning a sigh from Charlie. My heart warmed at the thought of how much she cared about me, I’ve never had that before with anyone else.

“I’ll have to visit Ramsford often and I won’t hear otherwise!” Charlie promised, wrapping her arms around herself. Was she changing the subject? I just let it go. She’d tell me if something was bothering her.

“We can’t have a true Beaumont bash unless all the Beaumonts are there. That includes you!” I laughed until it faded into a sigh. My eyes sweeping across the grounds and over the fountain, losing myself in my thoughts.

“Hey,” Charlie started pulling me from my train of thought and grabbed my arm, her eyes gentle as she continued. “You’d tell me if there was something wrong, right?”

“Of course. I trust you.” I blurted out, I bit back at the bile building. I did trust Charlie with more things about my life than other people. I also hated lying and keeping secrets but this wasn’t my secret to tell. I had made a promise.

“Maxwell,” Charlie said. Her eyes let me know she didn’t believe me for a second. “I’m always here for you. No matter what, okay?”

“Trust me, Charlie. I’d tell you if something was wrong with me,” I insisted. I could feel my voice get strangled from my throat being tight with emotion. A tense nod from Charlie let me know she’d let this go for my sake. I really liked that about her, she’d let me open up whenever I was ready rather than pushing me for answers. We stood in a comfortable silence for a bit, the trickling of the fountain was the only thing that could be heard.

“I’ll really miss having you as part of our house, y’know? When you're queen I won’t be there to wake you up every morning. No more dragging you around to put on dresses. No more limo rides with Bertrand’s judging stare.” I joked half heartedly, my eyes meeting hers. Everything was going to change soon.

“Oh, Maxwell... “ Charlie sighed and gathered me in a tight hug. She continued “I’ll miss you, too. More than you know.”

“Really? Most people would be sick of me by now.” I murmured. I was shocked and touched by her words, eventually I remembered to return the hug.

“Come on, Maxwell. I don’t believe that for a second!” She cried out and pulled back, narrowing her eyes at me. Uh oh. I’ve summoned scary Charlie. I felt my eyes widen and gulped. “You’re my best friend and an amazing guy. Anyone who doesn’t see that is sorely missing out.” She insisted with a sad smile and playfully punched my arm.

“Okay, okay. I’ll concede for now.” I joked, bringing my hands up in surrender. Her glare got even more intense if that was possible. I changed the subject “I brought you out here to cheer you up so let’s do something wild before the announcement.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her eyes glittering with mischief, I could always count on Charlie to be a part of my shenanigans. “Okay! Let’s go!” She danced in place, too excited to even care that she was angry with me a second ago. I led Charlie by the hand back inside towards the grand staircase complete with red carpet and gold trim everywhere. Charlie looked confused, her brows knitted together.

“Max, why did you bring me to a staircase? I thought we were going to prank Bertrand or something,” Charlie asked. My heart leapt at my nickname, she rarely called me Max.

I stopped on the landing, spreading my arms and explained “Pranking Bertrand would be fun but these railings happen to be perfect for sliding! C’mon Charlie! Don’t you trust me?” I extended my hand out to her to grab. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. It was shouting at me.

“I do trust you.” Charlie grinned and grabbed my hand. Rushing up the stairs faster than I was somehow.

“Let’s do this! Ooh, we need to time it so we can reach the bottom at the same time!” Charlie exclaimed. She was so excited and got into position on the railing as soon as we reached the top of the stairs.

“Yeah! Then we can strike a pose!” I replied letting her enthusiasm infect me, for once. Charlie giggled. Great job, Agent Breakdance. Mission CCU has been accomplished. Mission objective: cheer Charlie up.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Max. Ready?” Charlie asked me, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I nodded excitedly already in position on the railing opposite of Charlie. I counted down for us. “On three! One… Two… Three!” We slid down the railings together.

“Wooo!!” I cheered, this was so much better than it is doing it alone!

I turned my head to watch Charlie with her hands in the air yelling “Yeahhhh!” With that, we jumped off in tandem. I pumped my fist in the air and placed one hand on my hip to pose like a superhero flying! Charlie went with the badass power pose with both her hands on her hips.

“We look so badass right now!” I shouted, not bothering to contain my excitement.

Charlie nodded and exclaimed “This room doesn’t know what hit ‘em!”

“If only we had sunglasses, this place wouldn’t have been able to take how awesome we are!” I told Charlie trying to be more aware of my volume. My brother wouldn’t be happy if we became the talk of the ball over this.

“That’s the spirit, Maxwell!” Charlie cheered and gave me a high-five.

I sighed and admitted “It’s been fun, Charlie. Thanks, for that.” Charlie grinned, she surprised me by leaning in and kissing me on the cheek.

“There’s no need to thank me, Maxwell! You’ve done just as much for me if not more. I’m glad I had you through it all. Really.” Charlie assured me. I felt my goofy lopsided grin spread across my face, I couldn’t help it. My hand raised to my cheek where she had kissed me. I turned to the ballroom, I didn’t want this moment to end. Nothing would have to change, we could just stay here for the rest of our lives. Realistically, I knew we couldn’t but it was nice to think about. My hand fell to my side and when I turned to look back at my friend, Charlie seemed lost in thought.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Charlie queried suddenly looking down.

“Ask me anything.” I answered earnestly.

“Are we still going to be friends if I’m not declared queen? I mean, I know I’m only really here as a suitor for House Beaumont. And one way or another, that’s about to end.” Charlie squeaked out.

“And so you’re wondering if we’re just going to kick you to the curb if you’re not crowned tonight?” I questioned back not that there was a doubt in my mind what would happen.

“Kind of...” Charlie answered, not looking me in my eyes. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she needed protection from me of all things. It was breaking my heart seeing Charlie like this. I felt this war going on within myself desperately wanting to comfort my best friend, to hold and touch her but was that even appropriate?

“Max? Don’t leave me hanging. Please say something, even if you think I don’t want to hear it.” Charlie pleaded with me, her voice had cracked and her eyes were still glued to the ground. That broke me, I lifted her chin with my crooked finger, staring into her eyes and waited for her to look at me. For the first time ever, Charlie actually looked scared.

“Charlie. We would never do that to you. You’re one of my best friends. Actually, my best friend now that I think about it.” I reassured her and searched her eyes hoping to provide some comfort. It just felt so easy being around Charlie. I didn’t feel the need to put up the front I normally did and I could be myself around her. There was no way I’d lose that even if she didn’t win.

“Max…” She sighed contentedly. The way Charlie said my name made my heart jump, stupid heart. I’m trying to comfort my best friend.

“Anyway, what I mean is, of course Bertrand and I really, really, really hope you become queen.” I could feel my nerves getting to me. Had I gone too far? I shouldn’t have touched her but why can’t I bring myself to let go? Looking into Charlie’s eyes, my stomach swooped. She didn’t look uncomfortable and she’d certainly have no qualms about telling me to back off so why did I feel so guilty? I continued, “I mean, I think Bertrand might kill me if you don’t…” I trailed off with a nervous laugh. “But as far as I’m concerned, win or lose, you’re still part of House Beaumont and I’d never just kick you out of our lives! Never ever.” I sputtered out the end, still nervous. I let go of her. Charlie’s smile never wavered and her eyes never left mine through the end of my monologue. I stepped away taking a deep breath not wanting to do something I would regret. I’ve never had a friendship so strong before where I felt compelled to kiss someone. I ran my fingers through my hair catching her watching me still, her face flushed knowing she’d been caught.

“Thanks Max, that means a lot to me.” Charlie whispered. I almost didn’t catch it. Before I knew it, I had been tackled by Charlie and engulfed in a bear hug.

“Anytime, little blossom. I just want you to be happy.” I whispered against her hair. I stepped back from the hug to see her smile grow and blush warm her freckled cheeks once more. I loved the effect the nickname had on Charlie so I used it as much as I could. My best friend was so pretty. I continued “We should probably get back if you’re okay, that is. I hope this made you feel better.” I encouraged her.

Charlie reassured me, “Worked like a charm, Max. You always know the right thing to say.” Normally, I’m really good at distractions but always knowing what to say? That was a first for me. I wanted people to be happy even if it meant they’d laugh at my expense but with Charlie, if she wasn’t happy it felt like my whole world tilted on its axis.

“My lady.” I said with a goofy grin, I stepped back bowing like a court jester and offered Charlie my arm to lighten the mood. She giggled and took my arm. My world righted itself hearing her laugh again. “Ready to get back in there?” I asked.

She squeezed my hand and assured me, “As ready as I’ll ever be.” Charlie certainly seemed in better spirits pulling me along to the dance floor, I couldn’t keep the giant grin off my face. I was grateful for being useful to someone for once. I’d chase that feeling to the ends of the Earth.

#pixelberry #choices stories you play #choices #maxwell x mc #maxwell beaumont #the royal romance