#I HAVE NEVER FELT SO STRONGLY ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE IN ONE PIECE

[crapitskizaru]

...don't you have anything else to say?

#BOYFRIENDS PARTNERS LOVERS SOULMATES #I HAVE NEVER FELT SO STRONGLY ABOUT ANYTHING ELSE IN ONE PIECE #hawkins still alive btw #one piece #one piece spoilers #one piece chapter 1052 #op chapter 1052 #op spoilers #x drake x hawkins #X drake #Diez drake #Basil hawkins #The wano country #dino content #rubysh

[bloatedandalone04]

In The Way I Need You | Part 1

Series Masterlist

➪in which joey starts school and clay realizes he might have to listen to his mothers advice of hiring a sitter, but quickly warms up to that after idea meeting a seemingly sweet girl while on his way to work.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 3.6k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Clayton Beresford, get up,” the sound of his mother’s voice made Clay cringe as he grabbed his pillow and placed it over his head. “Clay, get up. Joey has been asking for his dad for the last half hour, you need to get up.”

Clay groaned as she ripped the pillow away from him and threw it on the opposite side of the bed before walking over to the curtains and pulling them open. “Mother,”

“Don’t mother me, Clay,” Lilith scolds as she moves back around the bed and stands over him. “You need to get ready for work, and get Joey ready for school, it’s his first day.”

With a huff, Clay sits up and throws the sheets off him. “You couldn’t have gotten him dressed for me?”

Lilith scoffs, walking towards the door. “I made him breakfast, you can pick out his clothing,” and then she was gone and Clay was left alone in the bed that felt all too big for just one person. 

Looking around his room, he sighs at how messy it had gotten since his last attempt at cleaning it. He grew up damn near spoiled and never had to worry about cleaning his room or making his bed, so now at the age of twenty seven, he was terrible at both those tasks. 

He looks over at the right side of the bed, and more specifically at how empty it was. That spot should be filled. She should be here, with him and with their son, but life really enjoys playing with him sometimes. 

Sighing again, he gets up and throws on his work clothing, which really felt more like a formal event outfit than anything else. He finishes buttoning up his white shirt as he enters the kitchen, his eyes instantly landing on his son. “Hey, buddy,” he greets as he leans down and kisses the top of his head. “Did you have a good sleep?”

Joey nods and sets the crust of his toast down on the plate. “I’m still tired,” 

Clay laughs and picks up the half eaten toast. “You are?” He asks and finishes his kids breakfast, his mind going back to when he was Joey’s age and also didn’t like crust. “You went to bed pretty early last night. Unless you were just pretending to be asleep when I came and checked in on you.”

Joey shakes his head quickly as Lilith laughs from her place at the sink, her arms crossed as she blows on the coffee mug in her hand. “No, dad,” he answers as he stares up into Clay’s matching blue eyes. 

“No?” Clay hums, picking up the now empty plate and walking over to his mom. 

She stays still as he reaches around her to set the plate down in the sink, a teasing smile on her lips. “He’s got you wrapped around his finger,” she stated. “You’re aware of that, right?”

Clay laughs and nods, looking back at his son as he scribbled on a blank piece of paper with a yellow crayon. “I know,” he agrees, looking down at his mom’s attire. “Are you staying home today?”

Lilith glances down at her housecoat clad body with a shrug. “I’m wrapped around that kid’s finger, too,” she grinned, finishing off her coffee and putting the mug in the sink as well. “I’ll get my work done early so I can be here when he gets home, but I really think it’s time we start looking for a more stable sitter. I know you don’t like talking about it, but I think you should consider hiring a nanny.” 

Clay sighs and moves away, standing behind Joey and placing his hands on the back of his chair. “I said I’d think about it,” he muttered. “I haven’t come to a conclusion yet.”

“It’s not a bad idea to have someone here to look after him while we’re at work. Someone to get him to and from school, helps get him ready in the mornings,” she pointed out. “Like a nanny.”

“He doesn’t need a nanny,” Clay mumbled, reaching a hand up to flatten out Joey’s messy hair. “I don’t want my son growing up in that kind of environment.”

“You had a nanny when you were little, Clay,” she reminded as she moved away from the sink. “You turned out pretty well.”

“I’m a single dad at the age of twenty seven, mother,” he rasped. “And I still live with my mother.”

“I told you I never liked that girl, Clayton,” she scolded as she wrapped her robe tighter around her body. “And I also told you that this is your home for as long as you want it to be. You want to move out, fine, but then who will be there to help look after Joey? No one. Unless you listen to me and hire someone to do it.”

And then she was disappearing down the hall to get ready for the day. Grunting under his breath, Clay leaned down and pulled Joey’s chair out. “Come on, let’s get you dressed,” he held his hand out, grinning when the much smaller one grabbed it. 

-

The phone rang five times before Clay was sent to voicemail. 

He wasn’t surprised, but the silence still irked him. Glancing at his driver, Clay turned a bit and tried to make it a little more private, but he was literally in the backseat of a car on his way to work. How private could it really be? “Hey, it’s me again,” he started, not missing the way Rick, his driver, glanced back at him. “Joey started school today. Can you believe it? Our son started school.” 

Rick straightened up at the harsh tone of Clay’s voice and quickly put his attention back on the busy street of New York, surely sensing that this would not be a nice voicemail. 

Clay paid him no mind as he continued, “He’s four now. Did you know that? You should, he’s your kid, too. You should know how old he is and you should’ve been there for his first day of school,” 

He wasn’t entirely sure if his ex even still used this number, or if he was just making these calls for nothing. She must, seeing as her voicemail hasn’t gotten full yet, and he’s been giving her these updates for the past three years now as a way to cope with not having her in his life anymore. 

Clay knew she didn’t deserve to know about what’s been going on in Joey’s life, and he knew he shouldn’t be wasting time leaving her messages, but he couldn’t help it.

He didn’t know if he wanted to rub it in her face about how good of a parent he turned out to be, or how amazing their son is. He just wanted her to know that she royally fucked up when she decided to leave before Joey even turned one. 

“You should’ve been there, Sam,” he said again, his voice wavering as he let his anger that had been building up since she left get to his head. “How the fuck could you do that to him? To us?”

Clay looks out the window and sees that he’s almost to the building in which he would be spending the next eight hours in. 

Sighing, he wraps up the call. “Whatever, Sam. I hope you realize one day how much you’ve missed out on and how much our son has missed out on,” he muttered. “Not that you even care. Delete this, listen to it, do whatever you want. That’s what you’re best at.”

And then he hung up and was left feeling even worse. 

It always ended that way, with him heated up with anger and with Sam probably feeling great at the fact that she is still able to rile him up without even being there. 

Rick pulls off to the side of the street and looks back at Clay. “We’ve arrived, Mr. Beresford,” 

Clay scoffs quietly, shrugging off his jacket since his skin had begun to sport a thin layer of sweat from how annoyed he got during the one-sided call. “Mr. Beresford was my dad,” he says, leaning back against the seat. He wasn’t ready to go in there yet. He was so frustrated and didn’t want to accidentally go off on anyone in that building because he still isn’t over his ex. “It’s just Clay. You know that.”

“I do,” Rick nods, sending him an apologetic smile in the rearview mirror. “Everything alright, Clay?”

Nodding, Clay looks out the window. “Everything is fine,” he lies as he watches a girl pace back and forth on the sidewalk. New York was a massive place and not easy to navigate through, but it was clear that she was new here. She wore a pale pink skirt and a white top that ended just above the hem of the skirt, which is not something people here usually wear. 

Clay has lived here a long time and the people of New York were stereotypical in the way they wore their favorite sports teams logos on their clothes or baggy jeans and a t-shirt. 

Most of them didn’t care and didn’t put a lot of effort into their appearance, simply because no one would notice. It was why he got a lot of stares whenever he walked around in dress pants and a tie. 

The girl looked confused and lost and Clay felt a bit bad for her. Even he got a bit turned around at times, and he’s lived here his whole life. He owns half of it, too. 

He also couldn’t ignore how pretty this girl is. 

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his ex in years and he hadn’t let himself look at any of the women in the city as a potential partner as he was overly protective of both his son and his heart. 

Or maybe it was because he simply felt bad for the girl and her clear lack of directions. 

Whatever it was, it had him opening the car door without much of a second thought. 

-

“Fuck,” you muttered as you looked up at the street sign then back at the paper in your hand. 

After living in New York for the last couple weeks, you were beginning to think you would never get to know your way around it. The place was massive and so confusing to navigate through if you didn’t know where you were going, and you clearly didn’t. 

You had been waiting to hear back from this job for days now and when you were finally given a chance for an interview, you couldn’t figure out how to get there. Your coffee did nothing to wake your brain up enough for you to be able to think clearly, and you debated on just throwing the rest of it away, but you were raised not to waste food or drinks when there are others who are less fortunate than you.

With an annoyed sigh, you stopped walking and stared down at the page again, not paying any attention to the car you were now standing beside as the door opened and someone stepped out. 

You don’t look up from the paper as you move forward and walk straight into another person, your coffee slipping from your hand and spilling onto the pristine white shirt of a man. “Oh, my God,” you gasp, not noticing that the page that held the address had also gotten soaked from the spill. “Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

It was the least of your worries as your eyes trailed up and met a pair of blue ones. Your breath hitched as the stranger smiled and shook his head as if he didn’t care at all that his white shirt was now stained with warm coffee. “It’s okay,” he said and his voice lived up to his appearance. Dreamy. Hot. Intimidating, even. 

“That looks expensive,” you think out loud when you look back down at his ruined button up, then quickly wipe the worry off your face and replace it with fake confidence. “Which is totally fine, I can pay to have it fixed or cleaned or…whatever.” Really, you most likely couldn’t afford to do that, but he didn’t need to know that.

The stranger laughed and it was probably the sexiest thing you had ever heard. “Don’t worry about it,” he waved you off and took the napkin from you when you held it out to him. 

You chew on your bottom lip as he begins to wipe up some of the coffee, though you both knew it wouldn’t do a thing to save the shirt. “Were you just going to work or something? I’d hate for you to have to wear that for the rest of the day,” you gestured to the mess on his shirt but he just shrugged and threw the napkin into the trash can that was nearby. 

“I was actually debating on whether or not I should go home and skip work, then I saw you and thought you looked a little lost,” he grinned at the way your face flushed and how your cheeks were tinted pink. “Thought I could help you out a bit but ended up wearing your drink, instead.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a small, embarrassed laugh. “I’m so sorry,” 

“It’s fine,” he brushed you off again then looked a bit hesitant as he added, “I’m Clay.” 

He holds his hand out to you, making you look down at it before back up at his eyes. “Y/n,” 

You shake hands and hate how you found yourself wanting to hold his for much longer than a few seconds. “So, in hopes I don’t sound like a total creep when I ask,” he begins, giving you a somewhat nervous smile. “Where were you trying to get to?”

Laughing, you shake your head and look down at the ruined paper. “No, not at all,” you say, throwing the paper into the trash as well. “It’s that obvious that I’m lost, huh?”

Clay shrugged again, stepping back towards the car and opening the backseat door. “Only a little,” he teased and pulled out his jacket, efficiently covering up most of his shirt. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Maybe I can point you in the right direction, if you want.”

You knew you were late for the interview, but you wanted to stay and talk with him for a bit longer. What was wrong with you? Why do you always do this around cute guys? Though, calling Clay cute felt a bit like an understatement. He was by far the hottest man you had ever seen in your life. “Please,” you say quietly, stepping towards him. “I was trying to get to this interview at the Milton Hotel, but the directions were hard to understand even before I got coffee all over them.”

Clay laughs and closes the door, turning around and nodding towards the intersection down the street. “You were pretty close, believe it or not,” of course, you wanted to say but held back. “You just take a left at the lights and go straight for about three blocks until you reach a bookstore that’s across from the old jail.”

He turned back to face you and you realized you were barely paying attention to his directions as you were far too focused on how good his backside looks. 

“The hotel is above the bookstore,” he finished and you gave him a grateful smile. “So, not too far now.”

“Thank you,” you say and look down the street, not quite ready to leave the presence of him. 

Maybe he didn’t want you to leave, either. “What’s the interview for? If you don’t mind me asking,”

You wave your hand. “Not at all,” you say again. “Just some babysitting gig. I finally got my CPR certificate and know how busy New York is. Thought it would be a good place to start.”

-

What are the odds..

Clay nods and tries to come off as casual as he leaned against the backdoor of the car. “Babysitting? Do you have much experience?”

“Yeah, about three years worth,” you answer, fidgeting with your fingers and Clay found himself hoping he wasn’t making you uncomfortable with all his questions. It had been too long since he actually let himself talk to a girl for more than a minute since Sam, so he was glad to see he was still able to decently hold a conversation. “I did it a lot through high school.”

“Yeah? When’d you graduate?” He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know so much about you, but it was clear the two of you got along pretty well for two strangers. He was sure he could hook you up with a job if you didn’t get this one, and now he was once again wondering why he cared so much. 

“Two years ago,” you replied and it didn’t seem like you were uncomfortable with him at all, so he decided to try his luck. 

“Well, I hope the interview goes well,” he says and thinks about how he wouldn’t mind having someone like you around his son for the hours he was at work. Though Clay has some massive trust issues, he knew he would need to find someone to look after Joey soon. “And if it doesn’t, there’s many other opportunities that are waiting for you in this city.”

“Yeah?” You gave him a teasing smile and Clay had to physically hold back a smirk in response. “Like what?”

Clay stiffened a bit as he chose his words carefully. “You said you’re a babysitter, right?” And when you nodded, he continued, “My son started school today, but he still needs someone to watch him until I get back from work. If that is something you’re interested in, there’s an opportunity for you right there. But I’m sure the interview will go great.”

You study his face for a bit, making Clay think he said something wrong, before you grin up at him. “Thanks for the boost of confidence,” you soften your smile. “I might take you up on that offer, if your kid is cool, that is.” 

Clay laughed as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his phone. “He’s the coolest kid in New York, that’s for sure,” he says and hands his phone to you. “Let me know how it goes? And if you’re interested in looking after the coolest kid you’ll probably ever meet for a few hours of your day.”

Your laugh reaches his ears just as you take his phone and quickly type in a number, one he hoped was actually yours and not a fake one. He couldn’t lie, it wasn’t often he asked for girls’ numbers, but you seemed sweet and like you knew what you were doing. Except for when it came to reading directions, but even that was understandable. He was also doing this to give his poor mom a break, and to make sure his son was in good hands when he was gone. “I’ll text you,” you promised as you handed him back his phone. “Thanks for the help. I really appreciate it.”

He took his phone and pocketed it. “It was nice to meet you, Y/n,” 

You begin backing away as you smile at him. “You too,” you wave. “Sorry again about your shirt. You wear that coffee well, if it helps.”

Clay laughs again as you turn around and begin heading down the street in the direction of the lights. 

The window of the car rolls down and he briefly hears Rick clear his throat. “I’ll pick you up at four, Mr. Beresford?” 

And Clay was far too distracted to be able to correct him again, so he just nodded before tearing his eyes away from your retreating form and heading into the building. 

-

Clay had gotten held up today and he had to text his mom and ask if she could pick Joey up from school. He knew it would be so much easier if he had a stable sitter to ask, and he was quickly beginning to agree with his mothers requests of hiring one. 

While Clay wanted to be the one to pick Joey up from his first day, he was glad he would have his grandma there. He knew his mom was probably his son’s favorite person, and he couldn’t even get mad at that fact because Clay had to admit; Lilith Beresford was an amazing woman and an even better mom.

As he began packing up his things, his mind drifted back to you for what felt like the tenth time since meeting you all those hours ago. He didn’t know what it was, but Clay felt captivated by you. 

Maybe it was because he hadn’t let himself get close to another girl since Sam, let alone have a full on conversation with one. 

Maybe it was because he found you cute and sweet and a bit funny.

Either way, he was thinking about you as he shrugged his jacket back on and over his stained shirt at the same time his phone went off. 

He checked it as he turned off the lights to his office, a genuine smile finding its way onto his lips as he read the text, 

The interview was a fail. I think it was over before it even began. Any chance I could set up one with you? Very curious about this supposed coolest kid in New York. 

And when you added a,

This is Y/n, by the way. The one who ruined your shirt because I have no sense of direction.  

He knew he was probably screwed. 

#clay beresford #clay beresford imagines #clay beresford x reader #clayton beresford #Clayton beresford x reader #clayton beresford imagines #hayden christensen blurb #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen #awake 2007 #awake #in the way i need you series #in the way i need you

[mikanotes]

happy birthday xiao i love uuuu here’s a really bad fic i wrote while very tired. sorry i couldn’t make anything better but TT oh well! /late spring ft. xiao x gn!reader warnings: none really? they’re dating except neither of them know idk. some existential talk. possibly ooc xiao i’m so sorry & i think that’s it!

A soft, soft breeze drifts through the curtains of Xiao’s room. There’s the gentle pitter patter of a rain calming down and the scent of nearby Silk Flowers. It’s all so gentle that Xiao feels this might be what mortals describe as feeling like one is floating on a cloud.

He stares at the horizon and heaves a quiet sigh, before letting his gaze dart towards a piece of paper on the desk by the window. Again. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked at it a hundred times since seeing it appear in his room following his daily patrol and fights against monsters.

Surprise was what he first felt, then something he doesn’t know how to name that made his heart tighten painfully, then something else that made it difficult for him to both look at the letter and look away from it all at once. He still feels that ache in his heart when he thinks about it, somehow, but it’s not really painful. It’s not the kind of pain that causes worry. He figures it’s closer to excitement than anxiety. He’s not sure.

In any case, he’s sure whatever he feels is way too much in comparison to the contents of that paper sheet.

“Hi Xiao! It’s me. I’m sure you know, right?

Is it alright if we meet up at Qiaoying Village?

When the moon is highest, maybe? No worries if you can’t come. If you only have a little time, no worries, it won’t be long. See you there, I hope.”

There it is again… He nearly curses under his breath, fingers coming up to tighten at the fabric of his top, right above his heart, twisting again.

He takes a deep breath and easily dispels the feeling, though he begins to worry about the ease with which something so simple makes his chest react so strongly. He looks up at the moon and decides his incessant checking has lasted enough, before taking a step back and disappearing from his room.

Qiaoying Village is like the Harbor in a sense. It’s full of life, full of people, and the exact kind of place Xiao usually avoids. But a village is always easier. It’s arguably much less crowded and the people tend to have unspoken rules about not being too noisy around a certain time of the night. So when it’s this late, and up from a nearby hill, it’s not half as bad as it would usually be.

“You came.”

He shifts his gaze your way and has to pretend he isn’t surprised. He isn’t, but it took him a second too long to notice you. His heart picks up in speed again and he clears his throat quietly.

Shush.

“You called. What is it?” he asks casually, taking a step closer to you. You’re sitting at the edge of the cliff, your bag settled on the grass with some sheets of paper and flowers peeking out. Is that Qingxin? You hum quietly, eyes trained on the horizon, then sigh. You seem to be pondering over how to answer. “Should I give you more time?”

“Give me a break, is what you should.” you retort, scoffing jokingly. He chuckles silently at that and decides to come sit at your side.

“Is this about my day of birth?” he asks, looking ahead as well, “I told you you don’t need to make a big deal out of it. It’s just another day.”

“It is.” you agree, tone sounding somewhat melancholic. Then you turn to look at him, gaze a bit persistent on getting him to do the same. He swallows thickly and glances at you.

“… It is.” he repeats quietly, blinking. “So?”

“You’ve lived really long. When did you stop celebrating your birthday? Did it become meaningless?”

Big talk. He’s not too surprised. There’s no point in not being honest.

“What if I never started?” he asks blankly. It’s not really meant to be rhetorical, either. “I don’t know what’s meaningful about this. It’s not as if I remember the day, either.”

You laugh softly at that. “No one does. That’s not what’s meaningful about it.” you say, gaze moving elsewhere. He doesn’t look away.

“Then?”

There’s a moment of silence, and he hears you hum faintly. It’s a long enough moment to let his mind wander to the clouds again, to that peaceful and heart-ache-inducing place where he thinks about you. He thinks about you the whole day, then thinks about you when you’re right in front of him. It isn’t the first time it happens, but it does feel stronger when it’s his birthday.

Then to him, this day…

“It’s meaningful in different ways for everyone, I think.”

“Really?”

You turn to look at him and frown. “You look elsewhere.”

He waits. He doesn’t know what for. (For his daydream to end. It doesn’t. You’re the dream in front of him. He’s cursed to ‘look elsewhere’ as long as you’re on his mind, he thinks, but there are worse things to be cursed with.) Then he shakes his head a little bit. “I’m here.” he states, “Why is your birthday meaningful?”

You make a face like you’re not buying his previous statement, for some reason, then huff.

“I don’t know. I can’t tell.”

He’s surprised. He tilts his head a little. “You… Can’t?”

You nod. “It feels like it lost meaning over the years. Maybe because I’m growing older? In any case, maybe it doesn’t actually need meaning…”

“You sound like you’re backtracking because I called you out.”

“You don’t need to point it out. Isn’t cake enough, anyways?!”

He scoffs softly. “Then what are we doing here?”

You look at him for a long few seconds, and this time his mind isn’t allowed to go anywhere. Your gaze anchors him where he sits and he can’t go anywhere else. He has no escape. He can only look at you. “Because I think it’s meaningful. I’m glad you were born, and that you exist, and that I get to exist with you.” you say, and he’s almost in awe at how easily all of this came out of your mouth.

“I…” I don’t understand, is what he wanted to say. But he thinks he feels blessed to be allowed to live a life where he got to meet you. So that just wouldn’t be true. He does understand. “I see.”

It’s been a few years since you’ve known each other. Around four birthdays, he recalls. You’ve been celebrating his birth on this day each year since you two met. It should make sense, then, that you cherish him. It should go without saying that you want to celebrate this day with him. But some part of him still can’t believe you really care this much. Before, he would have never dreamed of anyone caring so much about him they would even remember the day he was born. He thinks he would’ve probably forgotten it if it wasn’t for you.

Birthdays are meaningless for a Yaksha. For someone who lives so long and so alone. However he’s not alone, anymore.

So then to him, this day is now meaningful because you’re there. Because you invited him. Because you continue to remind him it matters to you. Because you want to celebrate that he was born, and that he exists. It’s meaningful because you care about him.

“Should I say it more clearly?”

“More clearly?”

“I hope I can remind you I’m happy you’re here for every year you and life itself allow me to.”

If Xiao’s heart hurt before, then he doesn’t know how to describe the way it feels now. It’s at least ten times worse. You’re really willing to waste this day each year, aren’t you? He wants to sound annoyed but he feels anything but.

“I don’t think…” he takes a deep breath, but it’s shaky. “I don't think it needed to be clarified. I got it.”

You unfortunately seem to catch on to how flustered he is and lean closer. His gaze hesitates between looking at you and elsewhere several times before settling on elsewhere.

“Your embarrassment is making mine disappear. Thank you, really.”

“So you were embarrassed…” Xiao scoffs under his breath, “Didn’t sound like it. Maybe I didn’t pay close enough attention.”

He feels your fingertips touch his face, silently asking to hold him. He lets you.

“Then pay attention.” you say, guiding his face towards yours. Your eyes are close enough to see the moon reflected in them. Pretty.

“I am.”

“Great.” you smile, “Happy birthday.”

Your palm is cold against the skin of his cheek. He swears your skin is usually the warmer one. Is his face warmer than usual?

He looks away. He can’t help it. “…Thank you.”

Your hand is even colder. No, his face is warmer. 

Then you pull away and he misses how cool it felt, so he grabs your hand before it’s too far away, and holds onto the feeling of it in his. You hum in question and he just intertwines his fingers with yours before looking back up. It would seem nonchalant if his face wasn’t still so warm, but he doesn’t care too much. If the sky is on his side the moonlight will only be bright enough to see you and nothing else.

You’re the only one he’ll always be willing to celebrate something so meaningless with. You’ve been known (to him) to have a way of making things meaningful by simply being there, anyways. Maybe he should be the one to get you a gift for that. Flowers? He thinks about your bag again and wonders if you didn’t one-up him, already.

“Did you call me all the way here to talk about the meaning of our existence?” he asks, trying to lighten the air. You laugh and get your bag, not letting go of his hand.

“Nah. I got you something.”

He sighs, and smiles. “Of course you did.”

“It’s simple, okay? Don’t worry!”

#xiao x reader #xiao genshin x reader #xiao genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #x reader

[oncomingnight]

Yandere! Rockstar

Hello everyone, I'd like to thank each and every single one of you for gifting me 300 supporters. I hope you all enjoy this piece and never hesitate to reach out to me.

Ahmad is mainly known for the incredibly romantic meanings that are behind his songs. His music contains lyrics of desperation and devotion, going right along with his strongly captivating voice. Endearing terms and stories of myth that are from his culture tend to make an appearance in his music, creating a deeper sense of mystique.

His closet is filled with dark colors; Leather jackets, silk blouses, high waisted suit pants, trench coats and long sleeved shirts. He dresses quite modestly for someone that's coined the name of 'rockstar' but his sense of fashion suits him incredibly well.

His fan base has recognized that every single one of his songs are about you. The way he describes the subject of his love suits your exact appearance, plus a track of his is named after you. His supporters have nothing but complete admiration for the relationship the two of you share.

His obsessive tendencies are laid bare when it comes to the lyrics he writes. Here's an example, " Baby, I'm yours and I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky, yours until the rivers all run dry, in other words until I die."

No matter what, you're always tagging along with him when he's on tour. If your job is an inconvenience, he'll make some adjustments so you're able to come with him. How is he expected to survive several months on end without the love of his life present? He won't be able to.

By adjustments I mean threatening your boss, but don't worry about that!

As the two of you are settled on your shared bed inside of the tour bus, he snugly lays his head onto your chest, doe eyes looking up at you, practically begging for you to run your fingers through his silky black hair.

When the two of you are able to wander around the city you're currently located in for a show, he purchases trinkets for you! He enjoys dragging you towards photo booths and commenting on how beautiful you look in every single photograph. "Take a look at this one, you look so gorgeous, حبيبة قلبى."

With anyone else, Ahmad would be described as incredibly reserved and quiet. But with you, he's got his hands all over you, brushing your hair back so he can kiss your forehead, asking about your day, "are you hungry? How was your day? Do you want to go out to the garden? I love you, I love you I love you, I lo-"

He's the type of guy to try and nestle up closer to you, even when your skin is flush togethaer.

Ahmad enjoys both cooking and baking, he takes great joy in seeing your cheeks fatten up for a split second as you bite into the food he made for you, your eyes closing in pure contentment. He used to bake out of stress and the itching need to just do something, but now you stepped into his life and now he does it to see you smile and groan about how much you loved your meal.

Another factor in his fashion is mini gold hoops, the material is important to his culture and he also enjoys how positively the jewelry slightly alters his appearance.

His social media is filled with photos that he took of his morning coffee, him in the studio, him and his friends but it's always mainly you. He'll caption a post of his with the words, "photo dump!" and it's just a bunch of photos he took of you.

You can't blame the man for being in love.

His fans aren't irritated by this, either, if anything they want to see more of you! They comment on his posts saying, "forget Ahmad, I want y/n", "yeah you're cool and all but where's our mom..?"

On the fridge in your shared home are tons of photos that are of you and him. Little magnets that he purchased whilst on tour holding them up.

Not only did he name a song about you but an entire album, it included songs describing the way he felt about you. "Pretty Woman" "The Look of Love" "I Only Want To Be With You" .

Hello everyone, I know this isn't my best work but I wanted to get something out for you guys! Have a nice day and night.

#yandere oneshot #yandere oc x you #yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere oc x y/n #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #oc x yn #oc x reader #oc x canon #male yandere #male oc x you #male oc x y/n #male oc x reader #male #yan oc #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere fantasy #yandere fanfiction #rockstar #x reader #yandere x willing reader #rockstar x reader

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: What Led to Ray's Explosive Tirade (Playing 'The Bad Guy')

I have to admit that this was not how I expected this scene to play out. I was just as flabbergasted as everyone else at first. However I think there's one clear thing that Ray's outburst reminded me off: no matter whether you reveal the truth or keep it to yourself - either way, you are the bad guy.

I'm NOT the Villain

As Boston very derisively claims, if Ray reveals the truth of the affair, he'll be the one unleashing the damage. A similar parallel to what Boston did last episode (with very different intentions may I add, but damage is damage nonetheless).

Mew is incredibly important to Ray. If we talk simply outside of Ray's love for him, Ray wants to treat him well, repay him for his kindness and support over the years. Therefore, once Ray was in possession of this information, he felt very strongly that Mew needed to know. He knew telling Mew was the right thing to do. He does genuinely care about Mew as a person.

Does he warn Mew and ruin his present happiness (which is based on a lie)? Or does he hold his tongue and potentially watch his friend get hurt from other mistreatments by Top further down the line?

Ray doesn't want to hurt Mew in any way. He doesn't want to be the bringer of bad news. Why should it have to fall to him to reveal this awful act of betrayal to someone he cares for so much? And when Mew supposedly doesn't react in the way he expects to this information, Ray goes ballistic with frustration, concern and anger. Why is he the bad guy for trying to help his friend, when Top can seemingly get away with it, and be in everyone's good graces even when he's completely undeserving? Why can no one else see Top's true colours?

I'm NOT the Worst

Something else that occurred to me throughout this episode, is how often Ray's friends belittle and overlook him. And it's so routine they hardly even notice.

Boston has never tried to hide his snide little back-handed comments at Ray. Since their fight at Sand's, he's become even more callous when throwing quips in plain sight. Namcheum makes an observation about all of them being partnered up, and it's only after a few beats that April points out Ray is still single. It's as if they forgot he was even there. Namcheum doesn't tend to pick up on any of the animosity or tension within this group. She's generally not the most tactful or best at reading people.

Then when Ray speaks to Mew in the bathroom, Mew immediately assumes Ray's been taking drugs. Ray looks clearly stunned by this. Yes, he's always coined as the 'drunk' but that's not his one and only personality trait. That's not all he does and is as a person.

It dawns on Ray that even his closest friends seem to always assume the very worst of him. He had a bad feeling about Top from the offset but no one cared or listened. Rather, Ray never gets given the benefit of the doubt, when he's not committed anything as problematic as the heinous crimes amongst their group. Particularly when compared to Top, someone who gets all the praise and adoration when Ray knows he's a certified piece of shit, is desperately unfair. And most of all Top gets the respect of the best friend he loves.

I think what really sent the situation hurtling south was Ray watching everyone play happy families, when he knows there is a web of dishonesty and resentment lurking beneath. It's all a farce. And Ray couldn't stomach it for another moment longer. He had enough.

Become the Very Thing You Loathe

In Episode 4, Ray displays a classic example of self-loathing and self punishment when he goads Sand to scold him. In doing so, it's as if he's deriving some warped form of satisfaction in owning these criticisms. Because he's told these things so often, he starts to believe it, so why not own it too? I actually mentioned this in my Episode 1 meta (regarding Ray's self-actualisation of becoming a burden). Sometimes embracing the very thing you hate being know for, at least validates the presence of that criticism. 'If people keep calling me an asshole, then fine, I'll become an asshole. At least then being called an asshole makes sense.'

So Ray brought it on himself to air out everyone's dirty laundry. 'Fuck it, if you really all think I'm the worst, then fine, I'll do what needs to be done, I'll be the worst. You all happy now?'

Even though Ray adopts the persona forced onto him, he's not happy about it at all. He wants to be identified with more substance, with more credit, as more than just what everyone claims him to be.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray x sand #sand x ray #ray pakorn #firstkhao #khaofirst #khaotung thanawat #first kanaphan #poor ray breaking my heart #this boy's characterisation has so many layers im quaking #me during episode: (shrieking) NOOO RAY DON'T PLEASE #can sand please whisk ray away so they can be happy away from this toxic wasteland of drama and clownery?

[with-my-murder-flute]

Nona the Ninth spoilers, tw for abuse and cult dynamics

Jod does this neat little trick beloved of cult leaders and perpetrators of domestic violence, where he minimizes all of his potential culpability for harm to other people, and maximizes every grievance anyone has ever done to him. I don't feel like this is a theory I have to work to convince people of; it's pretty blatant.

But I just restarted the book again and noticed something weird that makes me think that even in his confession, he might not have admitted to the original sin that set everything else in motion.

It's based on my professional experience with this kind of asshole, which makes me go: Often the biggest and most consequential pieces of information, the ones that make an entire generations-long two hundred car pileup unravel into sense in two minutes flat, are kept the most silent. Like, someone will finally look into historical records and ask their family some questions and go, "Oh, apparently Great-Granddad killed a man in the home country, so they had to immigrate with no money and start at the bottom, and every time he felt 'they' were close to catching him, the whole family had to move again." And it's like, well, that explains why your father was raised in a family with absolutely no stability!

And waaay back in NtN, back at the very beginning, when Jod talks about his program being shut down, he says:

We got a lot of attention at first because they wanted someone to blame [...] M— and A— could’ve walked into new jobs in a heartbeat but I was irradiated, I’d never work in the industry again. I sure as hell wouldn’t be allowed to work on anything else to do with you.

Why is that, John???

What did you do that burned all your other bridges before the wall of meat, the cult, or the nukes? Why was your reputation "irradiated"? Not just for the cryo project, but for everything to do with saving the earth? Why were you forced to cling to this one group as your only choice, why when you developed the ability to cure cancer did your field of vision narrow down only to discrediting your enemies, without trying to argue your own case more strongly? Why when you could choose between saving the human race or getting back at the trillionaires, did you chose over and over again not to save the human race?

Was your reputation actually "irradiated", or were you just so piqued and offended by the world not falling over itself in gratitude that you decided to stay in your research facility and sulk about how they didn't realize how special you are, instead of trying again?

What else aren't you telling us?

#ntn spoilers #nona the ninth #the locked tomb

[misc-obeyme]

His Hidden Heart

Well I sat down to write the next daily chat scene and ended up with this instead. I'll probably do another daily chat scene in the next couple of days. I was thinking of doing Diavolo next?

Anyway, I'm just thinking about Barbatos all day every day, that's all. One of the things that's interesting to me about him is that he's always got this calmness. Like he sometimes expresses emotions, but it's usually pretty mild. So this is about him getting comfortable enough to open up more. Also, I've always loved the way he likes to take care of people, but I often think about what it would take for him to let someone else take care of him for once.

And I don't know what exactly this is, but I wanted to try a different format. I think I'm gonna put it in the ficlets section of the masterlist but it's kind of its own thing.

GN!MC x Barbatos

Warnings: mostly fluff but a little angst and some crying

For so long, all you saw was the serene expression - the gentle smile, the occasional frown, the rare undercurrent of anger. But it was always tempered, always restrained. And you really thought it had more to do with how old and powerful Barbatos was than anything else. He had been through and seen so much, certainly there wasn't anything that truly made him feel strongly anymore.

And yet, as you got to know him, you started seeing little glimpses of more. Bit by bit, you saw more pieces of him and it made you realize that it wasn't that Barbatos didn't feel strongly. It was only that he didn't express those feelings freely.

You couldn't begin to guess why he was like this. Was it just that he wanted to maintain a stoic butler persona? Was it the result of having lived for so long that emotions seemed to have dulled, no longer warranting full expression? Was there some unresolved trauma of the past (present? future?) that caused him to keep everything under wraps?

You might never learn the truth. Maybe one day, if you felt like you could ask, he would tell you. But even if he never did, you were okay with that. Because your presence slowly but surely drew him out from behind that protective mask he always wore.

The two of you were alone in the garden having tea, fully engaged in conversation. He wasn't animated exactly, but he was talking openly in a way he normally doesn't. You don't even remember what you said, but you will never forget the way he suddenly laughed. It wasn't the usual amused chuckle. He put down his teacup, threw his head back, and laughed. He looked so absolutely delighted that you couldn't help laughing, too. At some point, he covered his face with a gloved hand, embarrassed at the way he couldn't seem to hold in his mirth. It took several minutes for the two of you to catch your breath. Barbatos had to actually wipe away tears from the corners of his eyes.

You had gone to the market together to do some shopping and while Barbatos had been absorbed in the different types of tea that were for sale, you wandered off. You were looking at various things and got a little distracted, going much farther away than you realized. When you looked around, you weren't exactly sure where you were or how to get back to where you needed to be. And then you heard Barbatos calling your name, an edge to his voice that almost sounded frantic. You followed the sound until you found him again. The moment he saw you, his face flooded with relief. He surprised you by putting his arms around you and holding you close for a moment. Long enough for you to hear the rapid beating of his heart.

You were a little confused about how frequently you were getting messages from Barbatos over one particular weekend. You had been spending your time at the House of Lamentation like you normally did, getting into various trouble with the brothers while you were off from school. But it seemed like every hour you got a new message from Barbatos on your D.D.D. They were mostly about nothing. Some questions about your day, a reminder about upcoming school projects, asking for your advice about a type of human world cake he was planning on making. You remembered that Diavolo was somewhere else on business that weekend and that Barbatos was likely alone in the castle (not counting the little Ds). Was he reaching out to you so often because he was lonely? You decided to just stop by for a surprise visit. The smile that greeted you when he opened the door indicated you had been right.

Everybody knew that you weren't currently in a relationship with anyone. There were a lot of rumors at RAD about who you might be secretly dating, but none of it was actually true. And those close to you knew this was the case. They also knew who you seemed to be slowly falling for, but nobody said anything about it. You weren't in denial, but you were certain it was unrequited. There was no doubt that Barbatos cared about you, but you didn't think it was in any capacity other than as a friend. It was just the two of you sitting together on a bench on the RAD grounds and you found yourself feeling a little bold. Not enough to tell him directly, so you only said that you thought you were in love. You watched his face carefully as you said it and so you caught the look of utter heartbreak that passed across it. It was an expression full of anguish that surprised you so much you gasped. But it was gone in seconds, replaced by the usual placid smile which disarmed you enough that you allowed him to change the subject.

Diavolo invited you over to the castle to have dinner with him. You found yourself at the dining table with him, a plethora of food spread out before you. He told you that Barbatos had made everything, but that he couldn't join you as he had his own business to attend to. You wondered what that meant, but didn't question it. You enjoyed dinner with Diavolo, chatting and laughing, generally having a good time. On your way home, you spotted Barbatos on his way back to the castle. He didn't know you were there, didn't know you could see him. He stopped briefly, clearly deep in thought. The expression on his face could only be described as lost or hopeless. Or both. You wanted to run to him, to embrace him, to kiss away the frown. But he didn't know you were there and soon enough he went inside the castle.

A normal day. A quiet day. Nothing to distract you, nothing to cause you concern. Everything was peaceful for once. All it took was a single moment. You had expected something grand, a final declaration, a sort of culmination of everything you had been feeling for so long. Instead, it was an unexpected reaction. When all you did was reach for him in a moment of need to find him waiting. And while you had seen Barbatos express plenty of emotions by this point, you were still completely blown away by the love you saw there in his eyes. When he finally let you see it, you wondered how you could ever think your own feelings weren't returned.

It was no secret that Barbatos did not like rats. You had seen him go to extreme lengths to eliminate them from anywhere he thought they may have taken up residence. And while he was certainly aggrieved whenever one showed up, you didn't fully understand what he was feeling until much later. When he seemed to be comfortable enough to let you see all of his emotional range, the reality of his reaction to rats became clear. He was afraid of them. You watched the terror that flashed across his face when one was near. You stepped in every time. You convinced him to let you take care of it. You were just as capable of dealing with rats as he was. As long as you were around, you would make sure you never saw that terrified look again.

You knew that Barbatos was having a rough week. Things had been going wrong left and right. He'd had to spend a lot of time cleaning up messes and setting things to rights on top of all the things he normally did. You could see it in his face as he got slightly more tired every day until by the end, you knew he really needed some rest. So that weekend, you took yourself over to the Demon Lord's Castle to surprise him with a homemade breakfast. You got there ridiculously early in order to have it done by the time he woke up. You brought a tray full of pancakes and tea to his room where you found him just as he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He stared at you in surprise as you explained what you had done, setting the tray down on the bedside table for him. He looked at you for a moment and then his eyes filled with tears. You were next to him in a heartbeat, putting your arms around him. He collapsed into you, crying softly. You couldn't believe it. You had never once seen him cry. But your kindness after the stress of his week allowed him to finally let go. He was safe to break down in your arms.

Such moments with Barbatos had seemed few and far between in the beginning. It took some time for him to trust you, to reveal to you his hidden heart. You had always felt as though he had to take care of you and all your emotions. But now you were able to take care of him as well, to be that safety, that shelter. And while your favorite thing was to see him laugh, genuinely and brightly, you would always be there to hold him when he needed to cry, too.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me fluff #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x you #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #barbatos x you #misc writes

[writers-vlogx]

When the waves call you home

OKAY SO I KNOW THIS BLOG IS DEDICATED TO SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT BUT I HAD TO PUT IN MY PIECE OF EFFORT AS A WRITER

Okay I swear I'm not complaining but I do not find enough fluff when I look for namor content so Ill do it myself. And please send me more ideas on what to wrote for this amazing man!!

I think his love for you runs very deep, he feels very strongly and is very protective over the people he cares about as we see when he talks about his people. 

I think that if you somehow made him feel something for someone that lives on the surface he would be very cautious at first, he would not want you to take advantage of his feelings or risk people finding his cities. It would take a long time to gain his trust because its not just him he has to consider but his people as well, he wants to protect them at all costs. He does not wish to lose anyone else.

But if you eventually did gain his trust, I think the next thing that would happen is that he would become worried, not for himself or his people but for you.

He knew you were mortal the anxiety of knowing how fragile you were terrified him, spending a lot of time trying to find the plant of his people to make it so that you could live with him, haha the second problem was that, he could not stay with you at all times, that made him anxious. He wanted to be by your side, be able to go look out for you, keep you safe, make it so that you did not wish for anything at all, but that was not possible as long as you lived on the surface.

Many nights he had asked you “love come live with me underwater” and the answer was always the same “I can’t” “My whole life is here” “how could I leave my family” “I'm not ready” It always resulted in the same answer, and each time the same dread washed over him hearing you say no. How could he make you understand that he needed to protect you, to make you see he would not be able to live if anything happened to you.

He cared so much for you that he gave you time, and understanding, he was patient but it was eating away at him he needed you. So when days became to long, at night he would come see you hold you as tight as possible as if by doing so you would never leave, but morning always came and he always gripped extra hard when he saw the sun start to rise, even then every time you would assure him you would be here when the moon rose and you would again be in his arms.

Maybe it was something in the air that day, maybe it was the way his eyes stared into your soul, trying to memories every feature on your face, because as his hand moved a strand of hair from your face, and the weight of your body’s made the bed sink under you, ever so softly he asked “Love come live with me, please” and maybe it was the fact that his eyes never left your face, or the way he frowned slightly trying to decipher you, trying to figure out what you were thinking, maybe it was the fact that you yourself felt that there had always been something missing that you stared at him for a long time.

You tried to remember all the memories you had made here, trying to find any excuse to say no, to turn back, anything to justify why but you found you could not. You had never felt full or complete here, despite the great life you had there had always been something missing, with namor however you felt like you had found some of that missing part of you. 

You put your hand on his cheek and caressed him softly admiring him, he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, you knew this day would come sooner or later. You knew you couldn't avoid it, and you knew you didn’t want to either.

Your voice barley audible and if he hadn’t paid attention he would have missed it completely, he heard those words he had waited so long to hear “Yes” His eyes opening ever so slowly and his arms stretching out and pulling you in for a hug, he placed his head on your shoulder “Thank you so much” A weight had been lifted off his shoulders as for one he no longer had to worry about the one he loved most being taken from him, in a way you had both found peace in each other, peace in moving away from the dangers of the surface world and moving into the waves that had called you home all those years ago.

#namor x reader #namor #namor fluff #wakanda forever #namore x you #fether serpent god #mcu namor #black panther #namor the sub mariner #namor the submariner x reader #namor x y/n #tenoch huerta #tenochtitlan #black panther 2 #namore x male reader

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret : What If...?

a series of alternate/unused bks story lines!!

contains spoilers for all of bks!!

alternate torture @ the end

i grappled with this a lot. i very strongly believe that the worst thing you can do with your characters in a high stakes situation is coddle them. if i've learned anything from dnd it's that you cannot be afraid to hurt you characters.

yet for the first time in my life i've become so attached that i just couldn't do it.

the tongue in a box scene was something that caused me a lot of turmoil. in the original cut it was elaine's tongue, but i talked to my friend catie about it and we agreed that cutting off a lesbians tongue is fucked up. then i considered actually cutting off din's tongue, i thought that that would make for something really interesting with the big reveal if he couldn't talk to her but it just seemed too brutal? i couldn't really wrap my head around it so i eventually just made it someone elses tongue.

my replacement for that was din's leg, that was something that sort of came on at the last second, i gave him the limp as foreshadowing and then said fuck it, lets take the whole thing.

dress maker

the scene in chapter 4 where din walks in on her in the bath was originally a much longer sequence where a modiste visited the castle and there was a lot of stuff around making new dresses for her and din was going to walk in while she was getting changed.

eventually i scrapped the entire concept and gave elaine the seamstress trait instead.

multiple parties & balls (masquerade)

i briefly mentioned this in the q&a but in the original bks outline there were a lot more parties and big scenes like that. i realized pretty quickly that balls and parties are a visual medium. the reason why i like those scenes so much in other things is because they're so visually appealing which is harder to do when writing. there was going to be a readers birthday ball, a few other parties or wedding for kodos siblings etc but it always felt like filler.

the masquerade was my dream sequence that just never really fir naturally fit with the story so i eventually had to let it go.

no breakup/rules storyline

there was no break up in the original bks story board. instead, everything after chapter 7 was gonna be based around breaking each and every rule.

each chapter following would have been dedicated to breaking a few of the rules up until the last one that would have been; no falling in love, stop when i say to stop, and no kissing would have all been one big climax chapter. it would have been very little women in the 'we have got to have it out jo' sort of sense where she begs him to stop talking but he just keeps confessing.

eventually i realized that a rule or two break every chapter wasn't very sustainable. it was a fun idea and it might work in a different setting but bks at its core is supposed to be an overly dramatic period piece and there just wasn't enough conflict with that so instead i went with the breakup.

alternative ending

i had a similar ending for quite some time and one day i was listening to music and thinking about bks and realized that she loved naboo. originally they fled after kodo was killed. they built a cabin somewhere far away etc. etc.

but the character seemed to make more sense as someone who would want to do right by the people she had grown to love within the kingdom so i decided to make it a sort of thing where she disassembled the monarchy.

(there was also an ending where she faked her own death, framed kodo, and he was ripped apart by the citizens of naboo)

and of course i briefly considered genuinely killing din and having her raise the baby on her own. but the idea made me so truly upset that i just couldnt do it.

hoth story line

not much to say here other that there was going to be a thing where she went back to hoth to visit her family accompanied by the mandalorian. another thing that was fun as a concept but ended up feeling like filler so i dropped it.

elaine plot twist

another case of me really loving elaine and being conflicted about her character.

originally elaine was going to tell kodo about their relationship. it was going to be a situation where kodo suspected something and threatened lysa forcing elaine to take action but eventually i decided to use my backup which was leo since there had been foreshadowing for that anyway

neutral kodo

for quite a while i planned for kodo to be just a bad husband and not a villain. but i needed more conflict and i needed a driving force and he was easy to mold into that.

there was an alternate storyline where he fell in love with the reader and “killed” din out of jealousy

#lincolndjarin #fic : best kept secret

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

More Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

Part One is available here! Time for Steve’s perspective! c: (also available on AO3)

*** Steve had signed the lease on the studio space a week ago and he was gearing up for the opening, posting instagram updates for the followers he’d gained from his previous tattooing gigs. Steve had bounced around a few spots since he started tattooing, but he hadn’t found anywhere that felt like he really belonged. Most people assumed tattoo artists had to be overly masculine or into counterculture. Steve had never been all that alternative (other than a brief emo phase Robin has been sworn to secrecy about) and he didn’t have loads of tattoos himself.  It had been a point of contention between him and some of his past coworkers who felt that a tattoo artist should wear their ink proudly.

Homophobia was also still pretty common in some of the more mainstream shops in town and Steve couldn’t handle some of the casual comments shop owners made about his more feminine style. To top it all off he was sick of having to tattoo tribals or dandelions on college kids as he “worked his way up the ladder” at some of the more established places. Steve had managed to garner attention for his original colorful floral work on instagram and was getting enough interest that he decided to take the leap and find his own space. 

He was eternally grateful that his best friend, Robin, had agreed to help with the front of house and appointments so he could focus on tattooing. Robin and Steve had talked for hours about how to make Steve’s studio inviting and comfortable for anyone who dropped in. Steve felt strongly about gatekeeping in the tattoo community and wanted his studio to be bright and open and set people at ease who had never been tattooed or had been burned by more “hard core” shops.

Robin had taken Steve to hundreds of estate sales and thrift stores to find pieces that were homey and comfortable so that his new studio could reflect his tattooing philosophy. He’d filled the space with plants and soft fabrics and made sure that the studio had plenty of light. Steve had set up a nice waiting area that was more of a living room than anything else with loads of books and a record player to provide a soft soundtrack. He purposefully didn’t include any records heavier than Simon and Garfunkel to encourage a more relaxed atmosphere. He’d worked at a shop that only played metal and he basically lived on Excedrin to survive the headaches he’d get after a shift.

“Steve! It’s looking so good!” Robin said as she pushed through the door with the spoils from her Target run. “I really think it’s almost there. And just in time for our first appointment, tomorrow.”

“I’m really happy with it, Robs.”

“You should be! It looks awesome. Very instagrammable,” Robin added as she posed by the record stand. Steve snapped a quick pic before Robin could stop him.

“You’re right, very instagrammable,” Steve joked. He showed Robin the picture.

“Hey, that’s actually not bad. Send it to me and I’ll post it to stories to help drum up some business, kid.”

“I already had to close my books twice, I think we’re going to be okay, babe,” Steve laughed. 

It was true. After he posted some of his favorite floral pieces his DMs had blown up and he already had a full schedule for the next couple of months. Robin had agreed to help Steve in exchange for the promise that he wouldn’t overwork himself and actually take days off, so they were already scheduling clients pretty far out. To afford the overhead and keep to a more limited schedule, Steve had to broaden his initial search for studio space. They’d ended up in a slightly less desirable part of the city but since it seemed like Robin was serious about limiting Steve’s schedule it was a deal they couldn’t pass up.

“Alright, I picked up drinks to fill the mini fridge, coffee, tea, and some snacks. I also got this very cute planner to keep track of all your very important appointments,” Robin said as she pulled everything out of her grocery cart.

“I feel like we have to be forgetting something, Robs.” Steve looked around the space. He’d fully outfitted his tattooing space with everything he needed, they’d set up the printer and iPad to do stencils, and everyone had places to sit, but it still felt like something was missing.

“I think you’re overthinking it. We double checked the list last night.”

Steve walked over to the window and looked out at the busy street. He noticed the flower shop across the way. “Wait, that’s it. I wanted to go set up a recurring delivery for a flower arrangement for the front desk for each week.”

“Wow, when you said you wanted to lean into the plant gay aesthetic you weren’t kidding, huh?” Robin laughed.

“I just think it would be nice to have fresh flowers in addition to all the greenery,” Steve added.

“You’re sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to talk to the guy you’ve been checking out who works there?” Robin asked.

“I’ve been doing nothing of the kind.”

“Then why are you blushing, babe?” Robin dramatically flung herself onto the couch. “I’m so glad we got some old lady’s fainting couch for precisely this moment. It is perfect for dramatically winning an argument.”

“You’ve won nothing, Robin.” Steve pouted.

“You know I’m just giving you shit. If you’re going to go you better go now. I think they close early.”

***

Hope you guys like soft Tattoo Artist Steve! Part 3 here! 

Taglist: @maya-custodios-dionach 

#my fic #steve x eddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie #tattoo / flower shop AU

[ghostlywhiskey]

"You're such a sweet girl. You make me feel things I don't think I have the right to. I can’t describe how much I adore you, love. I should’ve said that more."

Simon was utterly lost in the passion as you straddled his lap, gazing into his eyes as he whispered to you. Without a second thought, your hands trailed to the back of his neck and pulled him close. As you both kissed, his hands slipped through your hair, holding you gently as your lips crashed into his with a fervor he never thought he'd get the chance to feel.

He was a dead man, a person whose mind, heart, and soul had been battered, bruised, and broken. He often stayed up wondering if anyone could mend his pieces together; then you came along. You, with your bright smiles, pretty eyes, and sweet personality. You, who stayed beside him whenever he was out late smoking a cigarette. You, who always showed up to his flat with food. You, who held him through every nightmare, every sob, and every snore.

It was then that he understood why people talked about love as though it was a drug. He felt dizzy, a rush of adrenaline and euphoria, and he didn't want it to stop.

After a moment, his tongue made its appearance, slowly at first as he tasted your lips. It felt…electric. He moved his lips to your neck, kissing, licking, and nipping it softly. His hands gripped the fabric of your clothes, ready to tear it apart.

He was losing himself in you, his emotions swirling like a mad storm inside him. It felt both euphoric and devastatingly painful to want you so much. He'd never felt so strongly about anyone. He had never wanted someone so desperately and yet, so gently.

It was a battle for his self-control. He wanted you. Bad. Really bad. And after months of being away, his heart couldn't stand the thought of losing you. He wanted you to feel that too. But he was afraid he'd hurt you if he tried, yet your lips were so soft. Your body so close. The way you gasped when he touched your arm. The way you looked at him. How his hand perfectly interlocked with yours. He didn't want any of it to stop. Not now, not ever.

Your body left a warmth on his and it was unlike anything he had felt before. Both your lips met again and the kiss was as furious as before. Your body pressed up against Simon and his hands squeezed your hips. His muscles tensed, his touch growing rougher as he pulled you closer and pressed you up against him. At that moment, there was nothing else. No dread, no fear, no doubt. Nothing else mattered but this.

-🤎

I just wanna kiss this man until both our lips are bruised and we can't remember our names. Inspired by the song 18 by One Direction and I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys!!

Also on a side note, Simon is absolutely WHIPPED for reader. Like genuinely, he’s so in love 🥰

IM LITERALLY SHOUTING FROM THE ROOFTOPS.

ITS THE WAY IVE BEEN NEGLECTING WRITING FOR SIMON AND U REMIND ME ALL THE TIME WHY I NEED TO SHOW HIM MORE LOVE.

i’m a mess. i adore him. and i adore your brain. mwah mwah mwah.

#🤎 #nic responses

[remediesremedy]

Hii i saw that you make stories for avatar if you write for tarsem please make a storie for him, fluff with reader or anything else you want, if you dont write about him please make sully family x oldest sully daughter, anything you want (^.^)(^.^)☺️

hey my lovely, fortunately i already have two stories in the works about being an elder sully sibling. so let’s have a crack at writing a small fic for Tarsem :)

Tarsem x GN human! reader

warnings: some angst, lots of fluff

The night’s air was cold, it’s chill felt throughout all of the navi in the hallelujah mountains. Normally the heat, or lack of it, wouldn’t be a big problem, but without a mate, and being a small human, the temperature was freezing. You laid awake, staring at the clustered sky, filled with millions of stars, and specks of planets, one that you came from. earth.

but every day on pandora had you yearning to be a true na’vi. Your avatar body was wonderful, but knowing you’d eventually have to wake up to be a human once again, it was a dreaded feeling. Norm, one of the other avatars, a scientist, was trying to find a safer solution to permanently switching bodies. Eywa unfortunately did not allow everyone to pass through, but in hope that you would one day have the chance to pass through and receive her judgement, you spent time with her. Her, being the creatures of pandora, the flora and fauna, appreciating every inch of the planet you were on, because eywa was everything at once.

it was the same night with you wondering what could be, when you heard faint whispers outside. without your hyper sensitive ears, it was hard to listen in, but you slid down from your bed and made your way to the farther side of the tent. Today had been a scary, and uncertain day, news spread quickly that the sully children were under gunpoint, luckily saved by their parents and older brother. So you weren’t very surprised to hear the hushed voice of your olo'eyktan, Jake Sully. but what did surprise you was the recipient on the other end of his whispers.

“it is, no longer safe for my family.” Jake ushered quietly, despite out of sight, you could feel like he was scratching his neck or fiddling with his hands. “we are the reason the omatikaya are.. in danger.” with a sigh he muttered the next sentence strongly. “me and my family leave tomorrow, we will go far, and hope that the sky people never find us and we live in peace.”

Tarsem, let out a chuff of understanding. “i understand.” his respect for Jake was unmatched, he was raised during the war and was beyond relieved when it had ended. now that it had come back, he was angry, tired, so many confusing emotions when he just wanted peace for his people. “but why are you telling me this?”

the next piece of news had you struggling not to gasp.

“with my choosing, i’d like you to be olo'eyktan, only if you choose it too.” Jake spoke earnestly, hope hanging off of his every word, just waiting for Tarsem to take the burden off him.

silence overcame the night briefly.

“i would be honoured.”

———————————————————————

despite the heavy lack of sleep, your eyes were wide open, your body awake and energised because today was a celebration, but also a goodbye. you sought out Tarsem, wanting to congratulate him, he was a very worthy olo'eyktan, he was wise and strong and kind.

when you found him by one of the edges of camp, tending to his ikran, you stepped towards him softly, rearing back slightly when the creature he was holding onto, snapped its head to look at you. Tarsem turned quickly, and eased, seeing you weren’t a threat. “Hello little human, it is early no? why are you awake?”

you tried to control the flush coming to your face, of course he didn’t know your name, and now you had doomed yourself to always being called human because you hadn’t woken up and went to transfer to your avatar. “i wanted to congratulate you.” you ignored the pet name, smiling because being the new leader was so much honour.

Tarsem clicked his tongue, one hand sliding off his ikran, “no one has been told yet, how do you know little one?” his brow raised, waiting for an answer.

“forget it.” you fought a hiss, in your human form he would simply laugh if you did. “i do not wish to be called little one, or little human.” you turned on your heal, but was gently prodded to stop.

“i apologise.” Tarsem muttered sincerely, “what’s your name, i’d like to make it up to you.”

you gave him your name, gaze softening slightly at his apology before retreating away to your link, it felt wrong to be in your human body for too long.

—————————————————————————

although the sully’s were now gone, people of the omatikaya were motivated to celebrate the choosing of a new olo'eyktan. There was a hungry fire, feeding on whatever wood the na’vi would throw at it. and traditional music blared around the campfire, hand crafted beautiful drums and trained voices ignited the spirit of every person present.

your Na’vi body felt much more comfortable than your human form. As a human you were tall, as a Na’vi you towered over most. you found it endearing, dancing with the young children who could barely reach your knees. The night was young and the celebration would be long, Tarsem was to be warmly welcomed, and the gathering would prompt him to select his tsahik. being able to see every woman of the clan and see her personality, her grace, her mannerisms and her soul. Or atleast you assumed it was to be a woman.

when a young child gleefully rushed to you, requesting to dance again with a grin, you could never say anything but yes. you bent down to be closer with the kid, bobbing and swaying, chuckling as the younger na’vi began bouncing with toothy smiles. “you’ll tire yourself out.” you tutted with ni malice, picking up the child to give them a break, and to instead slowly spin around while they gained their breath back. “you must be a very strong child to dance for that long.” you softly looked down, praising the boy who had massive twinkling green eyes, his excitement shone through effortlessly. “what a mighty warrior in the works.” and that was it, the boy was urging to get out of your arms, practically pouncing on his mother to tell her how much of a mighty warrior he was.

it was sweet. that even as a human, the people had favoured you. Eywa had favoured you, letting you into a wonderful home that was now yours.

you failed to notice a figure walking towards you, too captured by the flames of the growing fire. A clearing of the throat had you halting, slowly shifting to the recipient. Tarsem, a surprise.

“you seem familiar.” the now leader spoke, puzzled, quizzically tilting his head at the tallest Na’vi he had seen, and the most, beautiful too. seeming graced by eywa herself.

you couldn’t contain the laugh that spilled out of you, maintaining eye contact with a grin, you offered your hand. his eyes widened at the sound of your voice, realisation and slight confusion dawned upon him, you were no longer such a tiny human. “dance with me, if you want to make it up to me?” you asked cheekily, watching a hue of purple flood to his cheeks. he reached forward and engulfed your hand, but he looked slightly out of place, his movements were stiff desperate him trying desperately to succumb to the rhythm. it dawned upon you that he struggled to dance, it only made your toothy smile widen.

how sweet.

your dancing wasn’t too intricate, trying to accommodate for tarsem. you swayed your body, twisting and turning in time with the music, the world felt like a stage you were performing on. you locked eyes with Tarsem again, trying to deny how his gaze made you feel deliciously uneasy. apparently he wasn’t paying attention either, and harshly bumped into you.

spews of apologies came out of his mouth again, he had honestly been caught off guard, trying to impress you and yet his wrong footing caused him to injure you, yet again. you tsked at him, although with no anger. he bashfully spoke his apologies again and again, you shushed him after a few seconds. “what am i going to do with you?” you snickered, pulling him in to dance again.

and that was indeed a question. Because Tarsem found that he wanted to do everything with you, human or not. He had never felt this way, he had never felt so shy. He had a feeling that his tsahik was standing right in front of him.

it was just him wondering how they would come to be mated. He prayed to eywa, i want this one. this human. this na’vi, whatever they are. they are different.

Tarsem swore that he had heard a slight tune of a whisper, imbedding itself in his ear, and he truly hoped Eywa had approved.

————————————————————————-

A/N: thank you so much for the fic request :) hope you liked it, left it a little open ended in case there was ever a part 2. it was fun writing for someone i wouldn’t normally write for. Tarsem seems like an absolute sweetheart

#avatar #atwow neteyam #atwow x y/n #atwow headcanons #atwow quaritch #atwow x you #atwow #atwow fanfiction #atwow fluff #avatar twow #avatar the way of water #avatar tuk #avatar tsireya #tarsem x you #tarsem x reader #avatar jake #jake sully #neytiri #neteyam #loak headcanons #loak fanfiction #tarsem avatar #tarsem x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #fantasy #fluff #angst #imagines #x reader

[reniqt]

23 — LEAVE HER :★︎:

wonderful.

it seems like everything had gone to plan as your eyes dashed from figure to figure, merely smiling proudly to yourself as you admired the five from a distance.

well, only four.

your attention shifts from the brotherly-like friendship, jake and riki, who are fighting over the last piece of chicken on the dinner table. chopsticks stabbing eachother,

from the angry-pair, jay and sunoo, continuously bickering over the most ridiculous topics, such as, whether or not jay deserved to see riki everyday or not,

and eventually,

to the awkward jungwon sitting beside you.

he hadn’t seem to take interest on whatever the fuck the other four had going on, his painfully obvious sour look making you choke up laughter. you felt bad.

but on the bright side, you felt the slightest bit relieved almost everyone seemed to enjoy riki’s company as he continues to blend in quite easily with everyone.

and surprisingly, you adored it.

you always seemed to adore riki for having that contagious charm on his tail.

the charm that attracts others, automatically deeming himself ‘likable’ no matter what he does.

the charm that somehow makes you feel the slightest bit bad for him when you weren’t supposed too.

and you had no idea why.

just this one moment of laughter was enough for you to consider a memory as you watched the others playfully argue with each other, almost forgetting the reason why you were here. why this hangout was created in the first place.

and though the atmosphere was happiness as it’s best, you couldn’t hold back the uncomfortable feeling that grew in your chest.

as if something was wrong.

eventually, silence soon began to take place as the other four settled down, returning to their delicious meals as if they weren’t just an arguing mess two seconds ago.

there, they’d start to bring up random conversations that introduced specifically riki, asking how his junior year was going, why he hated sunoo, his overdue homework, blah blah blah..

and lastly, how his relationship was going between you two.

not that you were uncomfortable to speak up about it, but you were quite surprised to see riki’s expression beam with happiness as he allowed himself to go on and on about it, his childish eyes repeatedly shifting from you to the others.

he’d go on about how much you made him happy, smile, even laugh, merely missing the pinkness in your cheeks and the spark in his eyes.

and throughout your entire year of middle school, it was only now did you ever see riki look so…

happy.

and to think you were the reason why he’s now talking to your friends like a child holding up a drawing to show their parents with love in their eyes, you never expected it to be him. the same asshole who threw your friendship away years ago.

you didn’t bother mentioning anything else as you calmly resumed eating your food, allowing everyone else to speak as they all chimed in on teasing the sixteen year old, a hint of giggles escaping you.

it seems like everyone was enjoying your boyfriend’s company in the end, always having something to say, whether it was to pick on him or compliment him for the most ridiculous things. which sunoo strongly disagreed on.

all except one, of course.

the timing only seems like a coincidence the moment silence has itself stringing through the conversation, allowing that certain someone to speak after minutes of staring with disgust in disguise.

“so…”

a sudden interruption is caught between each other’s attention, following the strange sound of the boy’s fingers that are tapping against the table.

“riki,” jungwon happily calls, fixing his posture to face the younger, a cocky smile to still. “I must ask,”

but the black haired pays no attention to it, humming in response as he shifted himself towards his direction.

hm?

“were you always like this?” he sweetly asks, playing it off smoothly in the process of playing with his food. “I mean—” he dryly laughed,

“you’re like a new person.”

it’s only a matter of seconds before everyone, including you, drop silent, almost too speechless to speak at jungwon’s painfully strange question.

riki didn’t know what to say.

“…what are you talking about?” he awkwardly chuckled, attempting to brush the uneasy feeling off his chest. “I was always like this.”

jungwon scoffed, biting back a giggle. “sorry, was that weird?” he bit into his piece of chicken. “I just wanted to know what kind of person you were back then.”

but before he was even given the chance to speak, he continues.

“like…oh, I don’t know.” he looked at him.

“in middle school.” he smiled.

a spark of discomfort runs through your boyfriend’s eyes, causing you to whirl your head in Jungwon’s direction, a fearful glare seen upon you.

“I..I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“of course,” he interrupts once more, his sharp eyes shooting through riki’s chest. “not everyone remembers how they were back then, so don’t expect me to force you too,” laughed jungwon, cutting a lump in his throat.

“it’s not like everyone went through a bad pas—”

“jungwon!” you stopped him, a creation of stares surrounding you as you suddenly heaved yourself up from the table,

—but riki does the same, clearing his throat.

“please excuse me,” a voice overlaps yours, directing your attention to the black haired who stands right across from you. “but,”

he faces you.

“I have to go.”

at that moment did you see the hidden fear in his eyes, a smile to shield as you both shared one last look with each other,

only for it to shatter.

“ki—wait!”

you call after his ushering figure, almost hesitant but was unable to find yourself chasing after him, your fist clenching itself once more. fuck.

you could tell he wanted to say something, but the guilt only made it worse.

it shouldn’t matter, though, right?

you looked at jungwon with panic in your eyes.

you were part of the plan, too.

then back at the others.

you wanted this.

then the door.

..did you?

◦ synopsis middle school years were difficult for you. After you finally moved away from your supposedly old bully, an unexpected surprise begans to follow

-

© reniqt — all rights reserved

finally ,, after my MASSIVE writers block, BFN has returned with chapter 23 !! <3

thank you everyone 4 being patient w me for a month LMA + I’ll try my best 2 keep you guys updated more often. 🫶

tlist 1: @xiaojunsmintchoco @nyfwyeonjun @laylasimp @maeumiluv @emobeomgyu @hrtattcker @luviesbi @anik-4 @jakelux @ahnneyong @sophhloaff @lil-iva @emoworu @aachillies @k1ttyl1x @markzitos @kimjiho1 @euphorecore @zorrilloberry @artstaeh @nikipedia07 @wonniesimp @kyoyangwon @uwudaizy @un-flirt @ilovechanhee @sfthyuka @woosunnie @i-yeseo @chiyuv @y4wnzki @ilovejaketoomuch @yeletbz ( request or DM to be added )

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[finerllines]

love, harry [bestfriend!h au]

a/n: hello everyone i hope yall are still here and reading!! im so sorry it took so long i had a major slump for a couple of months but now im back and im so excited to wrap up charlie and harry's story. thank you for reading!! please give me feedback, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed <3

summary: harry needs his best friend back and he will do anything to get her to love him back

wc: 11k+

tw: none :-)

prev part

///

One of the main occupational hazards of being a touring musician is missing things. Eventually, people learn to stop sending invitations. Just as well, it gets harder and harder to find new ways to say ‘sorry, I’ve got work’. When most of the people you grew up with have moved out of your small town, onto bigger and better things, home just becomes wherever you manage to stay for more than a month.

And that’s fine. That’s all Harry can really remember. Life became a matter of watching everyone else’s from a distance. Everyone’s except one.

Charlie.

Instead of Instagram stories and posts, it was personal photos and little vlogs about her day sent straight to him, for his eyes only. He doesn’t know what he did to earn her trust and love, but he has never taken it for granted. Somehow, she was never deterred by his lack of attendance, congratulatory texts and video calls thankfully being enough. Or it was enough, until she got pregnant.

He had worked so hard to show her it’s okay to open up and let people in again, and he went and pissed it all away. But he is determined to not let her shut him out again. Which is why he’s back at her front door, on four hours of sleep, still exhausted from the show the night before.

Nothing brings you back down to earth like standing in front of a door after performing in front of five thousand people, hands filled with grovelling supplies, shaking as it raises to knock.

Despite the many women he’s dated, grovelling is new to him. He likes to think he’s a pretty good boyfriend - he’s attentive, patient, and thoughtful. But by the time they get to the point where he would need to grovel, he normally already has one foot out the door, so instead of trying to make amends he accepts their fate and ends things. Cruel? Sure. But it’s the truth. He’s never really loved or cared about anyone enough to want to make the extra effort.

Except Charlie. And Charlie has never been mad at him.

Until now. Justifiably so.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to have this conversation, it’s all he’s wanted to do since their call, he just doesn’t know where to start.

Should he bring up the pure rage he felt when he saw the pictures of them and Richard? Or is that something he should save for later, after he has figured all of that out himself? He’s a jealous guy, everyone knows that, but he’s never felt jealousy so ugly and intense like that before, it felt so primitive and guttural; the near uncontrollable urge to remind Richard, and everyone, that Charlie does not belong to him. Problem is, Charlie doesn’t belong to him either. And neither does Rory. Less so now than ever.

He used to think he feels so strongly about her because she is a piece of his childhood, a piece of the Harry he used to be. Now, these feelings are undeniably romantic. None of her previous partners ever felt like a real threat because he was always confident that their history and the connection is stronger than anything these men would have to offer her. Then Richard made a baby with her. Talk about a connection.

Those weeks spent with Rory and Charlie were bliss. There hasn’t been a day spent without thinking about how they were doing since: whether Rory ate all her breakfast, or whether Charlie found the time to watch an episode of Taskmaster with a glass of wine. And when the domestic got too emotional for him, he would start to wonder what her skin would feel like if he ran his hand under her shirt, or what sounds she would make if he nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck, peppering it with soft kisses and licks.

But none of that is as important as their friendship. So, until he figures out all of that out for himself, he needs to focus on apologising and begging for forgiveness.

Taking a deep breath, he wipes his palms on his thighs before knocking the door. While waiting, he talks himself through more deep breaths. It’s a good thing he did because when the door gets pulled open his breath hitches a little.

Finally seeing the person you’ve been missing and thinking about is almost life giving. Charlie is stunning, even in an old robe and a braid that looks like it was slept in.

“Harry, hi.”

He had been mentally bracing himself for iciness in her voice. Instead, all he hears is wariness, and half of her body remains hidden behind the door

Charlie is wary of him. Shit.

“Um, H?” she asks when he doesn’t respond.

“Hi,” he raises a hand as a greeting on instinct, forgetting that he’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” She replies as if it’s ridiculous that he has to ask, but she can't see how guarded she looks right now.

A wave of déjà vu hits. The uncertainty and ball of emotion in his belly reminds Harry of the day he came to confront Charlie about having a baby.

She walks in front of him guiding him to the kitchen.

“Rory’s just eaten breakfast, I’m getting started on mine. You can join me if you’d like.”

In the kitchen playing with a hand towel is the most cheerful baby. The smile that emerges on his face is instinctive, and it’s fortunately shared by Rory. He’s not sure if it’s wishful thinking but he thinks he sees her eyes light up with recognition. He wants to pick her up and cuddle her close, for his own comfort more than anything, but he reminds himself of the agenda and redirects his attention to his best friend.

Standing in the middle of her kitchen, kind of stupidly, he thrusts his hands forward, like a young boy presenting a gift to his crush for the first time.

“For you.”

Her brows quirk up. “For me?”

He nods. “Who else?”

“I don’t know, thought you might be just making a pit stop.” She takes the bouquet first, taking the time to admire the assortment of flowers. “Thank you. These are beautiful.”

After getting it situated in an old jar from under the sink she takes the small gift bag. Setting it on the kitchen counter, she starts to pull things out.

“Is this …” she trails off as she studies the items on the counter.

“It’s the special knife spoon thing you talked about. The one that is designed to get all the peanut butter out the jar. And I got you another set of those small and long wooden spoons.”

She doesn't say anything for a moment and continues staring at his offerings.

While scratching the nape of his neck he says, “Sorry, it was hard to find an apology gift that is meaningful and yet wouldn’t make you mad because I spent a shitload of money on it. I’ll get you a proper gift soon but I didn’t have too much time because of, you know, the –“

“Harry,” she cuts him off firmly, “I love it, thank you. It means a lot, really.” Stepping forward, she wraps her arms around him, squeezing tightly, cheek pressed comfortably against his body.

His heart tightens in his chest. He’s missed this. He was afraid he might never experience this again.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I feel like all I’ve done since coming back is apologise but I need you to forgive me one more time, please. I really am sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. You know that, right? I … I was just irrationally jealous and hurt that I wanted to hurt you too. It’s fucked up, but it’s the truth. You’ll only get the truth from now on. I promise. Please believe me.”

How can she not believe him?

The extra precautions taken to keep her anonymity as much as possible while also making sure she could be as involved in his life as she wants. Years of texts, calls, and everything in between where they exposed their truest selves to each other without fear of judgement. Even the way he is holding her now, breath racing in and out, like he might break down if she doesn’t believe him.

“H, I believe you. The things you said … they were fucked. But I can’t stay mad at you, even if I tried.”

Shaking his head, he mumbles into her hair, “Thank you. Thank you. You’re too good for me. You shouldn’t make it so easy for a guy, you deserve grovelling. And I will, I’m not done making it up to you.”

They both hug each other tighter, gripping the fabric on each other’s backs.

“I don’t need grovelling; you’ve already done so much. Besides, you bought me my first bouquet of flowers in like four years and you got me presents that tell me you pay attention to me. I rambled to you about loving small spoons with long handles and how much I hate not being able to clean out the peanut butter jar ages ago, and somehow you were actually listening and remembered.”

“That wanker never got you flowers?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, too practical for that. And for small spoons too.” She coughs to clear her throat. “Also, you’re allowed to curse him you. You were right.”

“About what?” Harry asks.

She makes no effort to explain, simply shrugging her shoulders in faux nonchalance. There’s a brief silence once again, then, a chill shoots up his spine. He places his hands on her forearms and pushes her far back enough to be able to see her face.

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Not now, please. Can we talk about it later? I missed you and I don’t want to think about him.”

Of course. He never wants to think about Richard more than necessary anyways.

“Okay, I don’t want him ruining our time together. I want to spend time with my best girls.”

-

Harry ended up staying the night.

He woke up with Charlie’s head tucked under his, and her knees curled into herself on his lap. Despite the kink in his neck and the knot between his shoulders, he can’t bring himself to separate from her. The heat emanating from her body warms him in a way that soothes him. Their bodies haven’t been this close in forever, not since they were children and had sleepovers in the backyard where they always somehow woke up curled into each other.  

Growing up together meant going through that awkward stage of being afraid to get too touchy with each other, and by the time they moved past that, they had both started developing real crushes and entering relationships with other people. Harry thought they were pretty affectionate for platonic friends anyways, but the way they’re intertwined now makes him realise that they can be so much closer, so, so much closer.

Charlie’s face is right there. He can see every crevice, bump, and wrinkle on her skin. His eyes can’t help but trace every feature - round her eyes, down the slope of her nose, and across her lips. He can’t pull his eyes away from her lips. They sit together so perfectly, in the perfect pout, begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed. Begging to be pinched, bitten, and kissed by him specifically.

He doesn’t notice his face inching towards hers until their noses brush, causing her to tense in his arms. Harry freezes, watching tentatively as her lips purse and eyes squeeze tightly together.

“Uhhmm?” she groans.

Harry slowly moves his hand up and down Charlie’s back hoping to ground her as she slowly wakes up.

“It’s me, darling. Harry.”

“Hmm? H?”

She’s so precious. Harry feels like his heart might burst from how hard it’s beating.

“I’m right here. Good morning.”

With a big huff, her eyes blink open. Her forehead is pinched with confusion as she takes in her surroundings. Slowly pulling her arm from under his body, she reaches up and places her hand on Harry’s face, patting his cheek a couple of times as if trying to make sure he's really there.

With a little chuckle, he covers her hand with his, holding it in place on his cheek. Tilting his head slightly, he presses a small kiss to her palm. “Darling, I’m here. I came over yesterday and we fell asleep on the couch. Remember?”

Satisfied with his explanation, Charlie lets her body go lax against his.

Harry can’t help but smile at the way she trusts him, even half asleep.

Despite being forgiven almost immediately, there’s still a sense of uneasiness that he cannot shake. All of that is in his head though because Charlie has done nothing to make him feel uncertain. The looks, touches, and words they shared yesterday can only be described as tender, both of them obviously still emotionally fragile.

Richard’s fuck up is still unknown to Harry. He doesn’t care though. Not right now anyways. He got to kiss Rory’s cheeks until she erupted into excited giggles and watch as her gorgeous eyes slowly fluttered shut as she fell asleep in his rocking arms. Then, a tired but smiley Charlie tucked herself against him as they watched tv and talked about life with their heads pressed together.

But the feel good atmosphere of yesterday has dissipated, both of them forced to return to reality under the morning sunlight.

A strong vibration bursts their bubble.

When Charlie tries to peel herself from Harry, his arm quickly circles her waist to keep her close to him as he leans to grab his phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” his voice is gruff from sleep. “I know … I’ll be there on time. I said I’ll be there … yes I know what I’m doing. Okay, bye.”

Talk about returning to reality.

“You need to go,” she says, not asks.

He nods. “I uh, didn’t get in my car to London this morning so they’re just wondering where I am. I have a show there tonight.”

Right. Harry just kicked off his new tour and suddenly appeared at her door after the first show.

The air around them is still as the two friends try to make sense of all that’s happened.

“Of course, you’re an important man.”

“Not too important for you and Rory.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk, like properly, last night, but I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I’m glad you came, H, and Rory was thrilled to see you. She missed you, a lot. I’ve played your album so much she recognises your voice.”

Harry’s eyes pretty much glaze over at the thought. “Thank you for letting be in her life”

Charlie shakes her head and grabs his hands that have started to tremble. “You don’t need to thank me. I can't imagine you not being in her life. We’re Harry and Charlie, so I'm stuck with you.”

“You’re too good to me,” he whispers, “And we’re Harry, Charlie, and Rory.”

He has to bite his bottom lip to stop himself from saying everything he wants to say. With the last bit of self-control left in his body, he rests his forehead against hers as they lock eyes.

Then, a loud buzzing emanates from the coffee table again. With a frustrated huff, his eyes shut.

“Hey,” she squeezes his hand, “your fans need you.”

They emerge from their little cocoon on the sofa in silence, moving wordlessly in sync as Harry pays Rory one last visit, then leaves for London after a tight hug from his best friend.

As Charlie shuts the door behind her, she can’t help but feel that her living room now feels a little empty. All that’s left is the weight of everything left unsaid between them lingering in the air.

-

Better Homes and Gardens Exclusive: Harry Styles Shares the Meaning Behind His New Album, 'Harry's House'

Pop music’s most sought after man has a new album coming out and the world is excited. This new release comes from a relatively quiet quarantine period from Styles. He was set to kick off his world tour for his last album, Fine Line, when travel and group restrictions worldwide were announced, and his world went quiet all of a sudden.

His new album showcases an unexpected domestic side to his glistening life. Themes of family, belonging, and domestic bliss shine through so evidently that I can’t help but wonder if all of this is hypothetical or anecdotal.

I bite the bullet and ask. Before I get an answer, he lets out a small laugh, as if he has been expecting it.

“It’s definitely not an autobiography but all the songs come from a very real place in my life. The best thing about writing from real life is that as time passes my relationship with these songs change. Even from when I wrote them up to now, some of these songs listen completely different.”

I ask if that is good or bad. “Depends”, he says after ruminating to himself, “it depends on whether there are any fresh wounds.” Right now, he confesses, some wounds are pretty fresh. “Some are hard to listen to and I’m a little nervous to sing them if I’m honest.”

His earnestness is hard to miss – it shines through in his eyes and his voice. Tucked away in our little corner of the coffeeshop, I can’t help but feel like my high school crush has somehow decided to confide in me and unveil what’s beneath the good looks and charm. I feel almost privileged to be the chosen one, entrusted with his sincerity and vulnerability.

There is nothing manmade or artificial about this man – at least not when it comes to his music. He speaks about each song with so much passion, excitement, and on a couple of occasions, uncertainty. That took me by surprise. He has learnt to let go of needing to be well liked by every listener, he tells me proudly, but the need to impress those he loves will forever be there. Whether that is a strength or a weakness he has yet to figure out.

“That need is almost stronger now. Sometimes songs become a kind of coded message for those who know what I’m singing about. And it’s scary, waiting for a reaction or some approval,” he confesses.

“I spent so much time at home this past year, but I felt like my actual home is someplace else, somewhere that I couldn’t be at that moment in time.  Allowing myself to feel everything that I felt and reflect on why I’m feeling these things helped me make sense of all of that. Now I know where my home is, or at least I know where to go to find it.”

From the way he speaks I get the impression that he needs this album to be heard by some people. Not everyone, but a select few. Even though these songs weren’t necessarily written for me, I can’t help but feel excited to enter Harry’s House.

-

Charlie misses Harry. Like really misses Harry. Getting that little taste of him unlocked the door of longing deep within her and now it won’t shut. Like when you skip lunch then eat a cracker a couple hours later, unleashing a wave of insatiable hunger that can only be made quiet by eating until you cannot breathe anymore.

Basically, she needs so much of Harry until she cannot breathe. Until all she can think about is him.

Something changed. The moment she shut the door behind him that fateful morning, it was like a switch flipped and all she could do from then on is think about him. She’s missed him before, of course, but she’s never quite like this.

She can’t remember if anyone has ever looked at her so tenderly before. Harry’s definitely the most attentive man she’s ever met. Maybe it’s because she has the shitshow of a conversation with Richard to compare it to, but Harry said sorry, and for some reason that was more than enough for her.

Is she an idiot for choosing to believe a man’s words after just being lied to by another? Perhaps. Unfortunately, there is nothing she can do about it. Everything in her wants Harry.

The only contact she’s had with him since he left is a couple of texts. They’ve been casual, nothing too serious – he likes to have serious conversations in person – but enough to let her know that he’s still thinking about her.

“What do you think Rory? You’re a smart girl, right? You latched onto Harry but didn’t really want to play along with Richard, so what gave it away huh? Why didn’t you tell your mummy?”

The dangerous thing about getting too attached to Harry – that is, getting attached in a non-platonic way or in a father-figure to Rory kind of way – is that she’ll grow too dependent on him for assurance. Hearing him tell her that she is a good mother affected her more than she would like to admit. His words already hold too much weight, it would not be smart to give him more authority.

If the Richard catastrophe had to have a silver lining, it made Charlie realise that she needs to get her shit together and live up to the whole ‘strong, independent woman’ thing. She went from being satisfied in her own little world where all that mattered was her and her daughter, to feeling like Rory needed Richard’s love to be complete, as if her as a mother was not enough.

So, as much as her heart hates that Harry’s not here, her brain knows it’s for the best. She hasn’t had a moment like this in a while. Just her and her daughter having a quiet moment together. Sometimes she thinks it’s weird that she's a grown adult with a very adult job with very adult responsibilities, but she speaks to her year old daughter as if she’s a colleague, full sentences and everything.

“You like Harry, huh. What’d you think you’ll call him when you can speak? Uncle Harry? Or just Harry maybe. If you come up with some sort of cute nickname for him, he’ll love it.”

Rory looks up at her with a toy truck in her mouth, drool basically dripping off the toy.

Reaching for a tissue, Charlie sighs with amusement. “You’re just an angel aren’t you.”

-

It’s about two months later that Charlie and Harry reunite in person. He carved out a free couple of weeks and invited Charlie and Rory down to his flat in London for a ‘sleepover’, as he so put it.

Everything is sorted out for the both of you to stay over. The cot I ordered for Rory has already arrived so you can’t say no. xx

He greets them in the underground carpark. Charlie first sees him when the car he chartered pulls up in front of the lift lobby. With hands clasped behind his back, he has his eyes glued to the entrance, a smile breaking out on his face when he spots them.

After opening the door for them, his hands reconvene behind his back. She can tell they are tightly clenched from the way his forearms flex.

“Hi,” he says, voice a little tentative. He still doesn’t make a move to touch her.

“Hi,” she replies.

She can tell Harry is itching to do something - hug her or kiss her on the cheek - literally anything. His self-restraint is impressive, but she decides to put him out of his misery.

“Can you help bring Rory up please? I’ve got my hands full with the bags.”

He’s nodding instantly. The moment Charlie moves away from the door he’s swooping in to unbuckle the little girl gleefully.

“Hi my little monkey. C’mere.” His voice is soft and intimate.

Harry carries Rory on his front in the baby byon on the lift ride up. Charlie can’t pull her eyes away from their reflection in the mirror the entire time, and Harry can’t pull his eyes from Rory, who is taking in the new surroundings with curious eyes, swinging her chubby little legs back and forth.

Charlie wants to tattoo this image onto the inside of her brain.

It’s almost frightening how easily they slip back into their domestic routine. Apart from the slight tentativeness in their actions, they move around the space with complete familiarity. Before he puts Rory down, he makes sure to look at Charlie for approval first, and when she starts exploring his living room on wobbly steps, he makes sure to trail behind her, ready to grab her if she tries to walk into furniture.

He’s not sure if it’s all in his head, but Rory seems to have become a toddler in his short absence, which makes his heart ache a little. His desire to be there to witness Rory growing up probably crosses some sort of line, especially since Charlie made it clear that he is not a part of their family, however, out of all the inappropriate thoughts he has about Charlie, this one about watching Rory grow up is definitely the tamest.

“She’s basically a teenager now,” he jokes, successfully eliciting a giggle from Charlie.

With a prideful smile, she says, “She’s definitely a smart girl. There’s a song of yours she can recognise. When it plays it public she’ll give me a cheeky look and do a little dance.”

Harry’s head whips around to face her. “Really?”

She nods.

“What song? Do you have a video?”

Her face falters a little. “I don’t have any videos, sorry. It was mainly when we … you know.”

“Oh, right. It’s a new one then.” She nods again. “Thank you for letting me still be part of her life, even though we were –“

“- yeah.” They standing silence watching the exploring baby. “Like I said, I can’t hate you. And I would never make my daughter hate you too.”

He coughs to clear his throat. “What if … what if I want more?”

“More? Well, you’re her godfather, her only godfather, that hasn’t changed. And now that she … now that the father figure role is vacant again, you have her all to yourself.”

“Actually, I meant … um,” he scratches the back of his head, diverting his eyes. He chickens out. “Um, will you tell me about what happened with Richard?”

Charlie lets out a huff and rolls her eyes. She recounts what happened as briefly as possible, distilling Richard’s big villain monologue to only the salient bits, for her sake more than Richard’s.

“Huh,” he pinches his bottom lip, “wanker.”

“Yeah,” she replies, surprised that he doesn’t say more.

“I’m sorry though.”

“Why are you sorry? Richard’s shitty behaviour has nothing to do with you.”

Is this the right time to tell her that Richard’s ego competition with him was not just all in his head? That whenever Richard’s around Harry makes sure to be a bit more attentive and a bit more of a gentleman? That he gets all smug inside when Charlie’s friends tell him what a good boyfriend he’d be? And that he definitely makes sure to shoot Richard a small smirk whenever their eyes meet at parties?

Probably not.

In his defence, Harry owns up to his petty jealousy.

“Because he wouldn’t have come back to mess with you if those photos never got posted. And being slightly less of a dick than him doesn’t say much. The both of you mean so much to me, I panicked and got insecure, so I lashed out and said those fucked up things.”

“Insecure? Because of Richard?”

His nose scrunches, embarrassed. “He was never my biggest fan, and I just knew that once he got the chance, he would find a way to keep Rory away from me, keep you away from me. That’s like my worst nightmare. And being the main man in Rory’s life, Richard doesn’t deserve that. It’s entitled, selfish, and very wrong, but I can’t help it.”

Charlie goes silent at his little confession. “You’d only spent like, two weeks with Rory. I didn’t realise you’d care so much so quickly.”

“I fell in love with her the moment I heard about her. I felt betrayed and angry, but also enamoured, instantly. I didn’t even need to see her. I missed her before I met her.”

To say that Charlie loves Harry would not only be an understatement, but a mistranslation of something so intense and all consuming. Where had this man come from and why hadn’t she noticed sooner.

“Harry, I –“

“- even if I never got to see her again, I would still think about her, all the time. Just like how I’m always thinking about you.”

Their eyes lock in an intense stare, neither knowing what to do next.

Blinking away some rogue tears, Charlie closes her mouth that involuntarily fell slightly agape and crosses the short distance to make her way to Harry. With trembling hands, she interlaces her fingers with his and squeezes.

“I’m afraid that if I say everything I want to tell you, you’ll get scared and run away.” His voice is hushed. If they weren’t standing so close, she would not have heard him.

“I want to hear them.”

“Okay,” he replies. He’s smiling shyly now.

They both linger in the silence as if instinctively knowing that the rest of this conversation has to happen later. That neither of them are brave enough to have this conversation yet.

That night, he brings his girls out for ramen at his favourite spot. They sit facing each other in a booth at the back of the restaurant with Rory at the head of the table in a baby chair. He asks for the baby chair and a set of smaller utensils without any prompting, in fact, Charlie didn't get the chance to bring it up. He gets his favourite tonkatsu ramen and she gets the shio. When the two steaming bowls get placed in front of them, he reaches for Rory’s bowl, again unprompted, and puts in a couple strands of ramen and some soup, making sure to cut up the noodles with a fork and blow on it until it seems cool enough. In between bites of his own food, he checks to make sure Rory is eating her dinner okay, peeking into her little plastic bowl to make sure she’s not running low on food, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

Conversation at the table is minimal. Apart from some comments about the food and the restaurant, the main thing that can be heard from their table is baby babble and slurping.

Charlie likes it this way, she thinks, being able to soak in this moment without any urgency to clear the air or lay everything out on the table. Her heart's aflutter the entire time. To anyone in the restaurant, they just look like a regular family having dinner together and this normalcy is quite frankly making her freak out inside.

Dinner ends relatively early – they need to get back in time for bedtime. The guest bedroom now has a cot in it, the exact one Charlie has back home. He’s a little nervous when Charlie starts examining the stuff he bought. He’s not nervous that he bought the wrong stuff, he’s nervous that she’ll think it’s strange that he knew exactly what to get, that he memorised Rory’s bedtime routine all the way down to the temperature of the room.

She doesn’t comment on anything, of course, she just looks at him with stars in her eyes.

-

This trip to London is supposed to be a holiday for Charlie, or at least that is what Harry intended. Fine, a city she’s been to dozens of times is not much of a holiday, but Rory has never been out of Manchester, and he stays in a luxury apartment complex complete with a pool and spa.

In his head, he would kiss Charlie goodbye (just on the forehead for now) and head to rehearsals with Rory on his hip, giving her the whole day to enjoy some time to herself. In reality, the uncertainty when he proposes his idea might as well have been written across her face.

“That sounds nice H, but … this is her first time away from home and I don’t really feel okay with not having here with me.” Charlie’s voice suddenly gets louder when she realises what she is implying. “Not to say that I don’t trust you or anything, you’re her godfather of course, but it’s been –“

“Hey, I get it. Don’t worry about it, I’m not offended. I just want you to have some actual time off. You’ve been through quite a lot these past months.”

“I appreciate it, I really do. No one’s quite as thoughtful as you, H.”

Harry turns away to put away their dishes from dinner in the sink, making sure to tuck his face into his chest as best he can to try and to hide the flush blooming on his cheek.

“Well, I’ve got rehearsals tomorrow but my whole evening is free and there’s a Korean restaurant that’s really good. Let me take you, yeah.”

With her back still turned to him, she teases, “Are you asking me out, Styles?”

“Um, we eat together all the time and I would never –“

“Oh, you would never,” she interrupts in mock offence, “I got the picture.”

“That’s not what I meant. The whole Richard thing was so recent I would never try to do anything.”

“H,” she turns to put her hands on his now tense shoulders, “I was just teasing. Korean sounds good. Thanks, H.”

“I’m happy to,” he says, tilting his head back to bump Charlie’s head.

And he means it.

-

“Hi,” Charlie calls out as she knocks on the door, “sorry we’re early but one of us got a little grumpy. Hope we’re not interrupting.”

Every head in the soundproof room whips around at the new voice. But the person she came in looking for was not one of them.

“Charlie!” Sarah exclaims excitedly, “Hey, not at all we’re almost done. Come in. We haven’t seen you in forever.”

At the mention of her name, everyone else’s face seems to light up with recognition, all joining in with an enthusiastic greeting.

Rory, who was hiding her pouty little face in her mother’s neck, now perks up a tiny bit at the attention.

“And who is this adorable little girl,” Sarah coos, waving a few fingers to try and catch Rory’s attention.

“This is Rory. She might be a little shy because she’s never been around so many people like this before. You wanna say ‘hi’, lovie.” She angles her daughter on her hip to better face Harry’s band and crew.

Despite being in a bad mood the whole day, she refused to take a nap even though she was very patiently rocked for about an hour, Rory is now smiling cheekily, showing off her growing teeth to everyone.

“Can you say ‘hi’?” Charlie prompts again.

Rory drops her head abruptly onto her mother’s cheek. Then, she lets out a noise that vaguely sounds like she’s saying ‘hi’. As if on cue, everyone melts into a puddle of ‘awws’.

“Don’t be fooled she’s not normally this shy. She loves the attention, a little performer.”

With a small smile, Mitch says, “She’s adorable. I see why Harry doesn’t shut up about her. She’s probably his little protégé huh. Maybe our kids can have a little playdate sometime, they’re around the same age.”

“Oh,” Charlie’s caught a little off guard by his revelation, “sure, that sounds nice. She doesn’t get the chance to play with other children too often, I’m worried she won’t learn how to share with how much attention she gets at home.”

“I bet, especially with how much Harry spoils her, huh.”

She can’t stop her cheeks from heating up.

Before she can fruitlessly deny being the object of Harry’s attention, a familiar voice is heard from behind them. “Hey, what’s going on? What are y’all – oh, you guys are early.”

Charlie spins around. “Hi, I hope it’s okay. We didn’t mean to distract everyone.”

“It’s no problem! Monkey is too adorable, how can they not be distracted.” As Harry beelines towards them, his band instinctively makes room for him. “Hi love. Hi monkey.” He gives both Charlie and Rory a kiss on the cheek which causes the little girl to turn her head to look at him. After a couple seconds, her eyes light up with recognition.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlie sees the band exchange knowing glances.

No longer wanting to be the centre of attention, she insists that everyone get back to work, making her way to the sofa in the corner before anyone can object. (The only person who objects is Rory who tries to make silly faces at her audience for as long as she can.)

“Let’s finish rehearsing so that we can end on time. We don’t want monkey to get too hungry,” Harry instructs.

On the sofa, Charlie sits Rory down next to her. She digs in her handbag for the toys that she always carries with her to hopefully keep her daughter from interrupting the rehearsal. Before she can hand the car to Rory, a larger hand extends into her line of vision with a small pair of green headphones.

“Here, these are for monkey. They should fit her, I double checked to make sure they ordered the right size. I told the band to try and keep it a little quieter, we’ve only got a couple songs left, but just in case maybe she should wear it.”

“You got baby headphones for Rory?”

“Yeah, I want her to come see a show eventually, especially since you said she can recognise my voice, so I went ahead and got these.” The headphones exchange hands and his go behind his back immediately. “I’m not trying to pressure you by the way I was just …”

“H, you don’t need to walk around eggshells around me, or assume that I doubt your intentions.” She quickly scans the room. Satisfied that the other in the room are occupied, she assures softly, “I know you’re not Richard.”

The relief that takes over his body is hard to miss. “I just want to take care of her, and you. The last time I tried to do that I went too far. I don’t want to make that mistake again.”

It’s a surprise that Charlie can see anything because she’s sure she has hearts for eyes. Slow down, don’t get carried away. The reminder doesn’t work, none of the remaining rehearsal registers in her mind, the only time she manages to break out of her reverie is when her daughter starts squirming next to her and trying to take the headphones off. She somehow managed to understand that the music has stopped, so she’s allowed to take them off.

While she’s putting everything back into her purse, Harry thanks everyone for a good rehearsal and sends everyone off with applause. Rory, who has now crawled off the couch, joins in with the excitement by clapping her tiny hands together. Despite producing a negligible amount of noise, Harry manages to see her in his periphery.

“That’s right monkey. Say ‘yay’,” he says while slowly crouching down to meet her eyes. “Say ‘yay’, monkey.”

“Yay!” Rory chimes back.

Harry looks up to meet Charlie’s eyes as if wanting confirmation that that actually happened.

With a downward smile and raised eyebrows, she shoots him a tiny head nod as silent acknowledgement.

When they finally leave for dinner, Harry has Rory in one hand and Charlie’s purse hanging off the other, leaving Charlie to wave goodbye to everyone with a shy smile knowing exactly what this scene looks like.

-

Tonight doesn’t feel like any of the previous nights.  

For a start, Rory isn’t within arms reach of Charlie. And instead of wearing one of the many sensible outfits she brought with her she’s somehow in a dress worth more than her monthly pay.

Harry’s label is throwing a release party tonight, something he conveniently forgot to mention when convincing her to come down to London. An hour into the night, Charlie finds herself sipping on her second glass of champagne and people watching from the sofa at the edge of the room. The dim lights and loud music make her feel safe, like a protective blanket offering some level of anonymity. Not that the party is particularly unsafe. She’s been to enough of Harry’s work events to not feel completely like a fish out of water – smile politely when he introduces her, nurse a glass of whatever to give her hands something to do, and cling to Harry until all the attention becomes too overwhelming. She’s on step three right now, hence the sitting. 

Her palm is damp from the condensation from her glass, the champagne now edging on the side of too warm, but she’s too tired to be bothered, her vision having settled on a comfortable level of blurry.

“Long night?” a voice interrupts.

Her head snaps up to see an unfamiliar man looking down at her with a confident smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

The man moves to sit next to her, forcing her to angle her body to face him.

“I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. I’m Wes.”

She plasters on her polite grin once again and covertly takes a deep breath. “Hi, I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you,” she introduces as she shakes his hand.

“So, why are you sitting all alone with a half drunk glass of bubbly? The night is still young.”

“The night might be but I’m not,” she plays along.

The volume of Wes’ laugh is disproportionate to how funny her joke is.

“Do you want a little pick me up? I’d love if I could have one dance with you.”

Her brows raise when her brain catches on to what is happening. “I don’t know if I have any more dancing left in me,” she says as if she has done any dancing tonight at all.

“That’s fair. Talking’s fine with me too.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sit here with me, I’m fine by myself. Go have fun, find someone else to dance with. The night’s still young after all.”

“Well, you happen to be the most interesting person in the room right now, so I don’t mind sitting here with you.”

Wes’ voice is buttery smooth and his confidence is alluring. Normally her face would flush under all the attention of a self-assured man, however she isn’t feeling it tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Actually, I –“

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. Hey, you’re Waz right?”

“Wes, but yeah. Hey Harry, congratulations.”

“Sorry to interrupt, I need to borrow Charlie.”

Without giving Wes room to dispute, Harry tugs Charlie to her feet by the bicep, ditches her champagne flute after shooting the rest of the alcohol, and leads her to the baby room where Rory and Sarah’s baby is being cared for by a babysitter.

When the door shuts behind her, she asks, “You needed me?”

“Hmm?” Harry hums absentmindedly as he peeks into Rory’s stroller.

“You said you needed me?” she tries again.

“Right. I was bored and wanted your company.” He punctuates his words with a dismissive shrug.

“Harry!”

“What? I missed you.”

“Is that all? Really?”

He shrugs again. She rolls her eyes, yet she can’t stop smiling.

They sit on the floor, shoulder to shoulder, backs pressed against the wall in the silent room. Their only companions are the two babies who are sound asleep, and the babysitter who is sitting on a chair in the corner, trying her hardest to seem preoccupied with her phone.

There could be a hundred other people squeezed into this tiny room, but Charlie would still feel like they are the only two people present. Harry just has that effect on her. His talent for making her feel seen and wanted is astounding.

Sitting facing a plain white wall, Harry starts talking about anything and everything. In the middle of his extensive review of all the dessert options at the refreshments table, her hand finds his and interlocks their fingers tightly. She slouches down to rest her head on his bicep. He reciprocates without missing a beat, cheek resting on the top of her head. She can feel his every breath and she’s sure he can feel the same.

She doesn’t notice that her eyes have closed until a loud buzz emits from Harry’s pocket. He doesn’t move to address it, so she lets herself get comfortable again, only to be interrupted again by a stream of vibrations.

“H, your phone.”

“Sorry,” he mutters. His hand enters and exits his pocket quickly then reaches over to encourage her head to lay on his shoulder again.

“Go check it, it may be important.”

He shakes his head. “Nah.”

They return to their conversation with Harry rambling and Charlie humming in affirmation or disagreement. As her eyes flutter shut again, comforted by the low rumbling of his voice, she focuses on his thumb that is now drawing little circles on her palm to stay awake. It doesn’t work very well because she does fall asleep and is only woken up by harsh whispers.

“… this was done for you, so it would be nice if you could be present at your own party. Everyone has been coming up to me to ask about you. And why aren’t you reading my texts?”

“I am present. I’ve said ‘hi’ to everyone, thanked all the important people, and posed for all the photos.”

“But you’re now hiding here. Doing none of those things.”

“Shh, Charlie is asleep, and so are the babies. Don’t raise your voice.”

“Why are you in here playing babysitter when you are supposed to be mingling and making connections?”

“I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make.”

Then, there’s a loud smacking sound. Her eyes are still shut but any idiot could guess that the Jeff just smacked his forehead in exasperation. She would too if Harry said something so stupid to her.

“At least say goodbye and thank everyone before you leave, okay? Can you do that one thing.”

“Yes dad.”

Charlie gives up her ruse when she hears the door shut. Peeking out of one eye, she whispers, “Is Jeff gone?”

“You cheeky fucker.” Harry cups her jaw and squishes her cheeks together. “You didn’t think to help me out? You just let me get scolded by Jeff?”

She sits up slowly while rubbing her eyes. “Please, you weren’t getting scolded. I’m Harry Styles. That trumps whatever connections I could make. Pfft.”

As she tries to stand, tattooed arms curl around her waist, trapping her to his side. “I don’t appreciate you making fun of me when I got us out of trouble.”

She squirms in his arms and tries to wriggle free with no success. The more she moves the tighter his arms get.

“Us? I am not the man of the hour. This party is not for me rockstar.”

He cups the back of her head with a hand to press her full body against him basically tucking her into his side. “Well unfortunately for you I’m not leaving your side for the rest of the night. So, if I have to go out and mingle, so do you.”

“You little bitch. You begged me to come here with you.”

“I’m a little bitch?” he whisper-shouts in mock offence.

They start play wrestling in their little corner of the room, completely forgetting that there is a stranger in there with them. Their exchange of tickles and pinches causes them to topple over so that they’re now lying on the ground, Charlie’s body pressing into Harry’s with his arms still circling her waist. When they eventually tire themselves out, they remain stacked on top of each other trying to catch their breath.

He starts playing with the ends of her hair, twirling strands around his fingers then releasing it, only to start twirling it again. Lying with the woman who occupies all of his heart, mucking about on the dirty floor, Harry doesn’t think he has felt this content in a long time.

“Thank you for being here with me, it wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t speak throughout this release.”

“Well, I had to be here, for continuity’s sake, I’ve been there since your shitty X Factor audition.” Charlie clears her throat dramatically, then starts to croon, “Isn’t she lovely, isn’t she –“

“Hey fuck you,” Harry says between giggles and starts to tickle her again.

The door suddenly whips open, Jeff’s stern expression in the doorway.

“Good, nap time is over. Now, go mingle with the guests, please.”

Like reluctant children, Charlie and Harry detangle themselves and straighten their clothes, then dart out the door without making eye contact with Jeff. The moment they are out of Jeff’s eyeline, Harry grabs her hand and tugs her towards him, then shoots her a mischievous grin, like a kid with a secret. His energy is infectious, so, she returns the smile and glues herself to his side gleefully, tucking the moment they shared into a safe space in her brain.

It’s well past three in the morning by the time they’re stumbling out of the car, shushing each other repeatedly to avoid waking Rory up. Neither of them are drunk, that would be irresponsible because Rory is with them, but they are certainly not sober either. Harry has Rory’s car seat hooked on his elbow and he digs into his pocket to produce the house keys for Charlie. They ditch their shoes by the door before heading off to get ready for bed. Harry beelines toward the guest room to get Rory settled and Charlie starts doing the nightly check around the house.

Charlie is applying moisturiser when she hears gentle knocks on the door.

Harry stands behind the door in his boxers.

“Miss me already?” she teases.

He nods. Without thinking, she pinches his bottom lip that is jutting out in a pout. “Can we have a sleepover?”

She lets out a small giggle. "Okay."

He peeks into Rory’s crib before crawling into bed. The length of the day is evident in his face and yet, she can’t help but think he looks adorable with nothing but his head peeking out from under the duvet.  

When they started secondary school, they had mutually agreed that they were now too old to have sleepovers. Their usual ‘boy-girl’ activities had to be minimised because they didn’t ‘like each other like that’. Despite being supportive of this decision, Harry remembers how much lonelier his life had become once they stopped spending as much time with each other. He missed getting hello and goodbye hugs, and the way they would lean against each other whenever they would watch tv. The next time they exchanged more than a brief side hug was before his audition. Charlie had grabbed his shaking hands, gave them a firm squeeze, then wrapped him in a hug so tight that he felt his breath catch. His eyes had shut on instinct from the suddenness of everything and the sudden rush of heat that zipped up his body when he felt her body press against his.

Now that Harry has acknowledged that what he feels towards Charlie goes beyond the usual ‘boy-girl’ friendship, he wants to be close to her all the time. He flips onto his belly and rests an arm over her stomach. When that faces no resistance, he curls his fingers around her waist and wiggles closer until he can feel her body heat.

“You mean so much to me,” he mumbles into the pillow, “I need to tell you how much I love you.”

Her body goes rigid under his arm. Neither of them move, their breaths audible in the silence.

“You mean a lot to me too, H,” she whispers.

He sighs.

“Sleep,” he orders, “but stay close to me.”

“Okay, I’m right here.”

-

Harry wakes when a cold breeze creeps its way under the duvet. Just as he reaches for the edge of the duvet, his arm is mysteriously enrobed in warmth again. It takes a second for the action to register and when it does, he forces his eyes open. With half-shut eyes, he takes in the bed he’s on – familiar but not his own.

Charlie.

He’s still on his stomach, arm stretched out over where his companion was. The rustling from the duvet as he moves to sit up against the headboard alerts the room that he’s awake. As he rubs the sleep from his eyes, he spots Charlie who is standing by the crib holding Rory.

He smiles softly at the sight. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she returns his smile. “You can go back to sleep. Rory was just a little fussy in her crib.”

“Bring her here.”

She hesitates for a moment, then makes her way back to the bed. Once Rory is placed on the soft surface, she immediately tries to walk to the middle of the bed, but the plush duvet is too much for her little limbs and she ends up plopping onto her belly with a shocked expression.

Harry giggles at the sweet girl then reaches forward to pick her up by her underarms. “C’mere,” he whispers, then kisses her chubby cheek. “Good morning, monkey.”

“She’ll start whining for breakfast soon. I can take her to the living room if you want to sleep some more.”

He shakes his head with a pout. “I wanna snuggle until breakfast.”

Rory settles against Harry’s bare chest, gnawing on her fist and slobbering all over, completely unbothered by the fact that she’s skin-to-skin with a man for the first time. Charlie joins them under the covers, eyes never leaving her daughter, trying to take in the scene before her. The thought of lying in bed with her daughter and a man she loves had never crossed her mind. Not even before Richard left the first time. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. Like there’s not enough space in her chest to accommodate the amount of love she feels in heart. Even though she woke up with her mind swirling from what Harry said to her before they fell asleep, right now, she can’t think of anything other than how nice this feels.

She leaves about an inch between herself and Harry which is obviously not close enough for him because he wiggles closer to her and rest his head on her shoulder. With the hand not resting on Rory’s back, Harry pats around until he finds hers and intertwines their fingers again.

Unable to help herself, Charlie comments, “You’ve been touchy recently.”

After a quiet minute, Harry asks, “Is that okay?”

“It’s okay,” she replies without thinking twice.

“Can I tell you how much I love you now?”

“Okay,” her whisper is weak.

He takes a deep breath.

“I love you. And I know I love you because no one has made me feel the way you do. I’ve only just accepted that it’s different with you. No one makes me as happy, no one makes me as mad, no one makes me as jealous – I just, I could not function when we weren’t speaking, I’d never felt scared like that before, and I never want to feel like that ever again, I never want to have to worry about never getting to be with you. And you love me too, you have to.”

“Harry.” Harry’s neck aches under the strain of looking up at her. His watches her throat work as she swallows, anxious for her to say more. When she does, it comes in a small whisper, “I love you.”

She doesn’t have to force it past a knot or squeeze it out of her throat. It simply floats out of her, like a sigh of relief.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice is shaky.

“Yeah.” Charlie’s voice is certain.

Tilting her head down to meet his eyes, she just stares at him with a stupid, toothy grin. Her best friend. Her lover. 

They don’t get to say anything more because Rory knows how to pick her moments and she picks this one. She demands breakfast by wiping her slobbery hand on Harry’s chest, looking up at him expectantly.

By now they’ve spent many mornings like this – Rory sitting in her high chair while the adults move around the kitchen preparing breakfast together – and yet it’s somehow more special today. For a start, Harry and Charlie both wear small smiles the whole time, and whenever they bump into each other or cross paths their eyes dart away shyly, as if they didn’t declare their love to each other a minute ago.

Breakfast is apple cinnamon oatmeal topped with Charlie’s favourite peanut butter (that mysteriously appeared in Harry’s kitchen a couple days ago), with a side of coffee and shy glances over the top of coffee mugs.

He is the first to break the silence. “What are ya thinking about?”

“You.”

“Oh yeah,” he’s smirking now, “what about me?”

Charlie averts her gaze and shrugs coyly.

“Can I tell you what I’m thinking about?” She nods. “I’m thinking about you in that dress from last night. When I saw you in it, my first thought was: I should’ve wanked in the shower.”

“Harry!” she scolds, “My daughter is right here.”

“She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”

“Is this what being in a relationship with you is like? You being incredibly inappropriate?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

She groans and rolls her eyes, getting up to put the dishes in the sink.

Behind her, Harry calls out in a tone that’s only half joking, “For real though, would you like to know?”

She stays silent just to get on his nerves. It doesn’t take long for him to get out of his chair. An arm wraps around her as his body presses up against her.

He drops his voice and whispers in her ear, “Please say you would like to know.”

“I would like to know,” she admits finally. She drops her head back to rest on his shoulder and presses a kiss to the bottom of his jaw.

His face almost immediately turns scarlet. He can’t wait to get used to this.

They next have time alone when Rory has her afternoon nap. The magic of their initial declarations of love fades a little as they sit facing each other with cups of tea on the sofa. Charlie wants to wait for Harry to break the silence, but she knows he’s taking cues from her. She knows he’s careful to not push things too fast after already taking the first step this morning.

With a deep breath, she lays all her cards on the table.

She tells him that despite how assured she is of their feelings for each other, she can’t help but feel hesitant jumping into a new relationship right now. That even though she knows that he loves Rory wholeheartedly, if they were to start dating, he would need to take a step back from Rory’s life because she can’t risk her daughter getting attached to him, only for him to disappear if things go wrong between them. That she doesn’t know if she can handle having a ‘boyfriend’ rather than a ‘partner’, because she’s not looking for someone to mess around with but someone to share half her life with.

He tells her that it’s going to be a lot harder to keep their lives to themselves once everyone notices that they’re spending more time with each other, but he’ll do his best to keep them safe. That he’s willing to go as slow as she needs because he has been waiting for years already, so he can handle waiting some more. That he understands her fears and is willing to take a step back with Rory because he’s confident that she’s it for him. That he’ll bear half her burdens if she’ll bear half of his.

“You don’t have to be Rory’s dad, by the way. Being with me will be hard enough with you living away, I don’t expect you to take on that emotional burden too.”

“Hey,” Harry pinches her chin gently to tip her head up to look at him, “I know what I’m signing up for. I want to take care and provide for Rory in whatever capacity you’ll let me. She doesn’t need to call me dad, or daddy, or anything – she can decide what who I am to her when she’s old enough – but please let me be there for her, and you. The only part of my heart that is not occupied by you is occupied by her.”

“I love you.”

“Say it again, please.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Can I kiss you now, I’ve been waiting all day?”

She barely completes her nod before Harry’s lips are on hers. His hands cup the sides of her face and their foreheads press together with eagerness. There is no hesitation. Every move intentional.

The kiss is not innocent, but needy.

Charlie runs her hands through his hair then tugs on the hair at the top of his neck to cause him to draw back.

“Wha?” he mumbles.

“I needed to see your face to make sure this is real.”

Harry’s brows furrow as if he’s in pain. “I can’t believe it’s you. I’m so happy it’s you.”

She seals their mouths together again, tilting her head just right to get more of him. Needing to anchor herself, her hands move to his shoulders, clutching on to him as if she’s scared he’ll just disappear.

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss. They kiss until they run out of breath, then dive right back in after a few hurried puffs of air. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough.

Harry has to physically peel himself off of Charlie to get himself to stop. Not that he particularly wanted to stop, he was just getting a little too lightheaded. Both from the giddiness of finally getting to taste her and forgetting to breathe out of excitement. He looks drunk with his slow movements and half-lidded eyes. He feels a little high if he’s being honest.

Not wanting to be too far from her, he rests his forehead on her shoulder and starts giggling to himself.

He can’t believe his luck.

-

Harry’s been crawling into the guest bed every night since. Sleeping in the same bed is not exactly ‘taking it slow’ but when he couldn’t sleep alone anymore after experiencing what it’s like waking up with Charlie, especially when she’s just across the hall.

Lots of good chats have happened in this bed. They’ve discussed how their long distance relationship is going to look like, when they would tell Anne about their new relationship, and whether she’ll be less reluctant to receive his gifts now that they are more than friends.

It’s my love language. The more things you let me buy you, the more I know you love me. She rolled her eyes so hard.

“Are you ever going to tell me which songs on the album are about me?” she asks when they’re curled into each other one night.

“Lots of my songs are about you, or could be about you, but guess.”

“Matilda?”  

“Mmhm,” he affirms. “There’s another.”

She hesitates a little. “Boyfriends?” she asks softly.

“No,” he replies immediately, “if I were to write a song about Richard it would be so blatant and damning that he would be embarrassed to show his face in public again.”

“That’s a little dramatic even for you, rockstar.” After giving it another think, she admits defeat. “I don’t know the other. Tell me.”

“It’s Satellite.”

“Really? I like that one.”

“Yeah.” His voice grows soft. “I actually wrote it long ago, just never felt right on the other albums, but I um … I revisited it after that night. After meeting Rory for the first time.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out I’ve wanted to be with you for years. Knowing that you had a child with Richard made me so envious – he got to be a part of your life in a way that I thought I’d never get a chance to. I didn’t wanna just be in your orbit anymore, I wanna be with you.”

“You’re with me now. You’re here.”

“Yeah, I am.”

“I know Keep Driving is definitely not about me and frankly, I’m glad. You need to keep that shit to yourself from now on.”

“So … you don’t want me singing about how satisfied I make you?” he asks in jest.

“If you plan on making me listen to you sing about us having sex next to your mum and sister, we will never have sex .” When he starts to chuckle, she threatens again, “I’m being serious. I’ve gone over a year without having sex, and I can go longer.”

“That’s because you were having sex with small dick Richard. When I get to love on you the way I want to, you’ll want to let everyone know how good I make you feel.”

“You’re talking big game Mr. Watermelon Sugar.”

Harry pinches her chin to tip her head up. With his lips about an inch from hers, his says in a low voice, “And I plan on delivering.”

He seals his promise by slotting their lips together for what feels like the thousandth time that evening.

After Charlie falls asleep in his arms, Harry forces his eyes to stay open so that he can maximise his time with his best girls. When he can’t fight sleep any longer, his mutters one last ‘I love you’ and drifts off knowing that he’ll get to spend time with his favourite family again the next morning.

-

“Good evening Manchester!” Harry shouts into the microphone. The roar of the crowd widens the grin on his face. “Thank you for choosing to spend your evening with us. I promise that this is going to be a very, very special show.”

He slowly makes his way onto the runway.

“I always love playing shows here because this is basically a hometown show for me. And I don’t know if you guys feel it, but I feel like there is something in the air tonight. Something quite magical.”

The crowd erupts once again.

It’s probably not good practice to talk up one venue too much, that’s why most artists have a pretty standard spiel for every night, but he can’t help himself tonight. Even if he didn’t say it, everyone in the stadium could probably feel it. There is more pep in his step and the adrenaline rushing through his veins has never been this aggressive.

“Manchester, I have a special request for all of you.” He puts a finger to his lips as if he is a shushing the audience. “There are some important audience members amongst you today. So, I need all of you to go extra crazy and have an extra good time, because I’ve got some people to impress. Can you do that for me?

“This next song is for my best friend.”

Harry gets swallowed by screams as the intro to Late Night Talking starts to play.

-

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hstourupdates harry on stage in manchester tonight during late night talking

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harryfan1 wait who did he say that to?

harryfan2 i think he was talking to anne and gemma because he did that in their direction

↳ stylesontour there was another woman with a baby standing with them

↳ directioner1 it was his best friend charlie with them and harry was photographed with her daughter a while ago

↳ stylesfan1 wait what if he was pointing to charlie's baby because he kept looking at them and doing little waves 😩

harryfan3 to be harry's best friend 😭

taglist: @harrysfolklore @behindmygreyeyes @suspectedstyles @celestial-holland @xcaitlin101x @outofthisworl-d @haz-nn @zaynshoes @lissymarie22@duh-dobrik @harrysfinelines @rach2602 @percysaidnever @sunshinemoonsposts @sqrlgrl22

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #bestfriend!harry #dad!harry #harry styles dad #harry styles bestfriend

[oneofafew]

Gratitude.

{This was supposed to be a Seb angst piece but somehow my pervious smut ladened idea wiggled it's way into it}

NSFW 18+ - All characters are consenting (dubiously)

~

A flash of green followed by the familiar scream of his sister caused Sebastian to sit bolt upright in bed his breathing fast, another nightmare, he wasn’t surprised they’d been none stop since the catacombs, he ran a trembling hand through his hair, drew in a deep breath and listened to the familiar sounds of the other Slytherin boys snoring, thankful for once for the green hangings around his bed that he’d drawn before going to sleep that night, when he was sure they where all still asleep he slipped out of bed, wrapped his robes over his pyjamas and padded toward the common room.

There was no going back to sleep after a nightmare, not for Sebastian anyway, his mind liked to wander far too much for that and now it had been so unceremoniously reactivated it was in overdrive with ‘what ifs’ and ‘if onlys’ thoughts which only served to fuel further nightmares.

He was relieved to find the common room empty, glancing at the clock in the corner of the room he found out why, it was 3am even the late night studiers had packed up and gone to bed by now, he sat down on the sofa by the dying fireplace and pointed his wand at the embers, immediately they sprang back to life casting shadows over his face as he stared into the flickering flames.

There was no getting the images out of his head though, no matter how much he tried, the relic, his uncle and his sister they all loomed over him like ghosts haunting his every moment, reminding him of his own remorse should he dare forget it for a second which was unlikely.

He hadn’t meant to do it, to say those words. In truth the more he thought about it the more horrified he was that the spell had worked, he knew better than anyone, you had to mean an unforgivable, it made him wonder if the relic had something to do with it all, but then maybe he was just looking for something to blame, some way out of the crushing guilt he felt, maybe he had really wanted to kill his Uncle.

Solomon hadn’t exactly been kind to him growing up, sure he’d cared for Anne but Sebastian always felt like more of a burden to him than anything else, there was hardly any love lost between Solomon and his brother and the fact Sebastian reminded him so strongly of his father had no doubt been a factor in the way Solomon treated him, he’d berate him for the slightest thing and wasn’t past physical punishment if he felt the occasion called for it, which was more often than not the case, and whilst he’d never do anything of the sort to Anne, all of his rage, his grief for his brother and sister-in-law, his frustration of having two young children thrust into his care, it all came pouring out whenever Sebastian stepped out of line and the young boy had learnt to bare the brunt of it, grit his teeth and carry on.

Even so, Sebastian couldn’t imagine ever wanting to kill him the way he had done.

He let out a long sigh leaning back against the sofa his head tilted toward the ceiling his eyes watching the shadows of the water reflected from the windows the occasional creature blocking out the light as it swam past the window, it reminded him of everything else he’d lost, whilst Anne was still adamantly not replying to any of his owls, Ominis wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with him either keeping his distance and finding any reason not to be in the same room as him, Sebastian had noticed he’d arrive to bed ridiculously late and get up even earlier in order to avoid him, not that he blamed Ominis in the slightest though he would rather he just berate him and told him “I told you so” instead of outright ignoring him like this.

Not that Sebastian was entirely innocent of doing exactly the same thing to the one person who had still been talking to him, the reason he knew he was still in school and not rotting in a cell in Azkaban, he hadn’t even thanked her for that, every time he saw her his heart squeezed painfully and his stomach clenched uneasily and he was overtaken by an overwhelming urge to bolt and so he’d taken a leaf out of Ominis’ book and simply avoided her, not that she made it easy to do, she seemed determined on finding him and trying to talk to him and he just as determined to spin on his heel and bolt in the other direction though it made him dizzy with guilt to do so, he’d already dragged her through hell and back alongside him, he had absolutely no right to do so anymore, but this had led to another complication; she’d been spending more time with Ominis, he’d turned a corner one afternoon to find them sat together in a secluded corner of the court yard and it had pained him to notice she was crying, Ominis offering her a comforting shoulder his arm draped over her shoulder and Sebastian couldn’t quite pin point why exactly he felt his fingers twitch toward his wand at the sight, instead he’d turned and  left the image of them together burned into his brain.

Now staring up at the waves on the ceiling his mind running away with the guilt and bitterness he hadn’t noticed the flames begin to die until a chill swept over him and he shivered slightly, he pulled his robes tighter around him and let out another sigh.

“Another nightmare Mr Sallow?”

The small voice made Sebastian jump, he looked around him before glancing down his eyes focusing on a small house elf stood next to the sofa with a feather duster in his hand

“Deek thinks you ought to brew a potion, for some good sleep” the little house elf said his big round eyes peering up at him “Deek knows of someone who can help”

Sebastian shook his head “I’m fine” he grunted before leaning back again, suddenly he lifted his head “How do you know my name?” he asked abruptly his eyes flickering over the unfamiliar elf

Rather than look affronted at his abrupt question, Deek look positively excited “our good friend, Miss Clarke, she speaks of you often” he squeaked

Sebastians brow furrowed “You know Amelia?” he blurted now sitting up straighter, though it didn’t surprise him in the slightest she’d be friends with elves as well as goblin’s and all manner of other creatures

The little house elf nodded his ears flapping “Indeed I do sir, she happens to know a few good potions for dreamless sleep, in fact she’s taught herself to brew some strong concoctions to ward off her own nightmares” Deek said excitedly as though he were a proud father talking of his child’s latest achievements

 Sebastians stomach clenched uneasily “She’s having nightmares too?” he asked now sitting on the edge of the sofa leaning forward, his elbows on his knees

Deek nodded solemnly “Deek believes so, it is why she is up at this hour brewing such potions” he said emitting a small squeak when Sebastian suddenly jumped to his feet

“where?” he asked impatiently but the little house elf simply shook his head

“Deek is not permitted to say sir, Goodnight” and with a small crack he vanished leaving the room silent once again.

Sebastian cursed under his breath, he’d just reach the common room door when he started to wonder what on earth he was doing, was he really going out to wander the corridors past curfew just to find someone he’d flat out refused to acknowledge for the past few weeks simply because they both shared the same affliction of nightmares, was he really going to hunt her down and put his own problems on her as well as whenever she was currently dealing with that was causing her such nightmares.

Oh but he so wanted to, something in him had awoken at Deeks revelation and he’d wanted nothing more than to comfort her in that moment, to do something to stop her nightmares even if he couldn’t stop his own it was exactly this kind of attitude that had got him were he was in the first place, barrelling forward to save one person without consideration for himself or others around him.

Frustrated he aimed a kick at a pile of books next to the door that went scattering to the ground, he kicked one out of his path and settled himself back on the sofa with a grunt, suddenly releasing how isolated he’d made himself, he had nobody left, not one single friend, and it was entirely his own fault.

Sebastian sat in silence his head spinning with throughs for what felt like hours, and sure enough when he glanced up at the clock it now said 5am, he heaved a sigh about to take himself back to his dormitory before the earlier risers started to pile in and a find him there in his Pyjamas when he noticed a familiar figure entre from the dorms, dressed in his uniform and hair quaffed perfectly as usual, the blinking red light of his wand giving his identity away immediately.

“Ominis, you’re up early” Sebastian called over, turning toward his former friend

Ominis stiffened, he clearly hadn’t expected anyone to be up so early, least of all Sebastian, his head turned in his general direction, he seemed to be weighing up his options, whilst it was far too early to be wandering the castle he didn’t seem particularly keen on staying in the common room now either, he turned to head back to the dorms.

“Wait! Please.” Sebastain cringed at how needy he’d sounded when he spoke, but it seemed to of worked, he watched as Ominis’ shoulders heaved in a sigh and he made his way toward him, hovering by an arm chair

“What do you want Sebastian?” he sounded exasperated already

Sebastian hesitated, taking a moment to gauge his expression but he remained as stoic as ever “I just want to talk” he finally said, quietly.

Ominis let out another sigh, turning away slightly “I have nothing more to say to you and you clearly don’t listen when I do, so what’s the point”

Sebastian faltered, hearing Ominis speak so calmly yet the words cut so deeply made a lump form in his throat, he swallowed it and took a breath “I’m Sorry Ominis” he said cursing at the way his voice cracked and betrayed him at the last second.

Something about his voice must have struck a chord in Ominis because he turned back toward him and guided himself to sit in the arm chair beside the fireplace, his head turned toward Sebastian, his expression unreadable

The two sat in an awkward silence for a moment, before Sebastian cleared his throat “nightmares” he said gruffly causing the other boys brow to furrow in confusion “I’ve been having nightmares, that’s why I’m up so early” he continued in way of explanation, glad Ominis couldn’t see the humiliation on his face right now

“I suppose that’s only natural, given the … nature of what happened” Ominis replied, sounding unbothered as though he where discussing the outcome of a quidditch match he wasn’t particularly interested in.

“Amelia has them too, doesn’t she” Sebastian blurted, waiting for the reaction he knew he’d get

Ominis shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his stoic expression flickered at the mention of Amelia, but still he shook his head “I couldn’t say” he replied finally.

 “Is she okay?” he finally asked, his voice barley a whisper but Ominis caught it all the same, his jaw twitched and his brow furrowed even more, it seemed Sebastian had hit a nerve.

“No…She’s upset Sebastain” he said incredulously as though he couldn’t believe his former friend would ask such a stupid question “You won’t even look at her, let alone speak to her” he added his voice stern

“neither will you … with me” Sebastian said, his defences rising with every word

“She didn’t dabble in the dark arts and go on to murder a family member!” Ominis spat back at him, rising to his feet now

Sebastian sank back slightly “I have nothing to say to her” he mumbled finally

“It’s only thanks to her you’re still here and not rotting in Azkaban, maybe try showing some gratitude” Ominis hissed as he swept past the other boy and out into the dungeons.

Sebastian watched him go, a mix of anger and shame sweeping over him causing him to clench his fists at his sides and grit his teeth together, Ominis was right of course, he always was.

As Sebastian made his way down to the great hall for breakfast he found himself scanning the corridors for signs of Amelia to no avail, he’d even stopped to scan the Ravenclaw table on his way to his own and still not seen sight of her, not that it was unusual for her to miss breakfast in favour of her studies or helping another lost first year instead, as easily distracted as she was, he was just about to give up when he spotted her by the doors talking with Garreth Weasley, he took a step toward her then suddenly faltered his eyes falling on the hint of a smile that played on her lips as she chatted animatedly with the Gryffindor and suddenly he found himself wishing he hadn’t found her after all, he skulked to his table and sat down heavily the other Slytherins paying him no mind as he brooded over his Sausages.

It wasn’t until the end of the day Sebastian found himself alone with Amelia, they’d just finished potions and Professor Sharp and asked her to stay behind and Sebastian for no particular reason had found it had taken him a lot longer than usual to clean his cauldron, so whilst Sharp commended her on her excellent essay, Sebastian had hovered by his station, as luck or some other deity would have it he’d just packed up and was heading to the door at exactly the same time Amelia was dismissed, he stopped and held the door open for her, she hesitated for a moment then stepped through without so much as looking at him.

“Hey!” Sebastian called after her, he watched as she froze in her tracks “You’re welcome” he teased, his smile faltering as she turned and he saw the utter thunderous look in her eyes, he couldn’t help but think she looked sort of adorable when she was angry

“Oh decided I still exist have you?” she said cooly folding her arms across her chest

Sebastian stared at her for a moment, he couldn’t believe this, she’d been trying to get him to engage with her for the past fortnight yet now here he was doing just that and she was angry with him for it “what’s got your wand in a knot?” he shot at her his brow furrowed

Amelia looked at him as though he’d just insulted her very existence, “You don’t so much as look at me anymore! You act as if I don’t even exist! After everything we went through I thought maybe you’d show me at least SOME acknowledgement some …” she fumbled looking for the right word that wouldn’t come to her in her temper

Sebastains own temper was rising too, he wasn’t sure what he had expected when he’d decided to approach her but it for sure wasn’t this, Ominis’ words came to back to him “Gratitude?” he spat his eyes roaming over her tense form

Amelias face reddened at his words “I .. no … I just, well maybe, yeah” she said quietly

Sebastian scoffed rolling his eyes at her, his temper flaring up again  “Ha! Well pardon me PRINCESS I’ve been a bit preoccupied with own problems! Forgive me if I forget to bow in the hero of Hogwarts presence”

If her face was red before it was nothing in comparison to how red she went now, her hands balled into fists at her sides and she looked on the verge of tears, Sebastian felt a twinge of guilt in his gut as he realised he may have gone a bit too far.

“Sebastian it’s not like that” she said her voice surprisingly soft considering her expression “I miss you” she added so quietly that Sebastian almost didn’t catch it. Almost.

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes roaming from her face to her hands and back again, his heart thumping against his chest as his gaze lingered on her bright blue eyes and flickered briefly to her lips, he bet they were still just as soft as the rest of her, he found his mind wandering to places it shouldn’t be, especially now, when he had been so adamant on sparing her having to be a part of his life at all but still couldn’t help the warmth he felt when he thought about her.

Screw it.

“You want Gratitude? I’ll show you gratitude” he said gruffly, grabbing her arm and marching her down the corridors as she spluttered behind him, he knew if she’d of wanted to she could of easily of dug her heels in and resisted and took solace in the fact she was willingly stumbling behind him

“what are you …” she began but Sebastian shook his head, shushing her as he pulled her into the undercroft without missing a beat he pushed her roughly against the wall and crashed his mouth down on hers, he was right, her lips where just as soft as he remembered.

Amelia had let out a yelp as her back made contact with the wall her eyes going wide as Sebastian’s mouth crashed down on hers, she wanted to push him away to yell at him and yet something within her wouldn’t allow it, her arms had found their perch on his shoulders and her lips had parted almost too eagerly for him.

The remined locked like that for what felt like an age, their tongues dancing and soft moans rippling from their throats, Sebastian pulled back to catch is breath his eyes hovered over her flushed face and it felt a sort of triumph wash over him, he leaned in again not satisfied with just one taste but felt her hands on his chest

“Sebastain” she warned her tone low and eyes boring into his

Sebastian gazed at her for a moment his head swimming with lust he swiftly grabbed her wrists in his hand and pinned them above her head, she opened her mouth to speak and he took his opportunity to kiss her again his tongue finding hers and just as he had hoped, she reciprocated.

His free hand found it’s way to her leg, roughly pushing up her skirt until his hand found the smooth skin of her thigh, he lifted her leg holding it against his hip to better angle himself to grind against her eliciting a delicious sound from her that only served to spur him on.

Brown eyes locked with Blue in a silent understanding as he moved his hand from her leg, she kept it wrapped around him, he worked to free himself form the tight confines of his trousers before his hand found her own underwear and he pushed them to the side his fingers grazing her wet heat as he did and she gasped at the contact.

His cock twitched impatiently as his fingers explored, grazing over her clit and down toward her entrance as she squirmed against him her breath hitching every so often when he grazed a particularly sensitive spot, his mouth had moved to her neck gently sucking and nibbling at her pulse point he felt her head tilt providing him easier access and he couldn’t help but smirk to himself, as he stopped to suck a particularly sensitive spot, leaving his mark and eliciting a moan from her that sent any and all remaining control he had flying straight out the proverbial window.

He withdrew his fingers, groaning as she whimpered for him, his lifted his head to look at her, she was gazing back at him her bottom lip between her teeth, his grip on her wrists tightened and in one swift thrust he buried is aching cock insider her.

He’d thought he’d already heard the most delicious noises she could make but he had been wrong, the moan that escaped her lips as he thrust into her sent electric down his spine, he snapped his hips back and did it again groaning as he felt her, warm and wet, enveloping him somehow drawing him in further.

The combined sounds of her moans and his grunts along with the laboured breathing filled the room and the tell tale sound of skin slapping against skin echoed throughout the cavernous room

Which was why, when the bars of the Undercroft rattled to signal the arrival of another, neither of them heard.

The unfamiliar sound had confused Ominis at first, it took him a moment to process what it was but when he did a horrified expression crossed his face, he knew exactly who those breathy voices belonged to and he could hardly believe it

“what the bloody hell are you two doing in MY Undercroft?!” he barked his head turned, unseeing toward the sounds

Amelia let out a gasp, but Sebastian didn’t seem at all phased, in fact he didn’t even stop his relentless pace as he continued to rut into her, his hand grabbing her thigh to hold her in place “Showing. Some. Gratitude” he groaned out each word between thrusts driving into her harder each time

Ominis’ face paled “this is not what I meant when I said that you animal Sebastian!” he scolded his voice an entire octave higher than usual

“She doesn’t seem to mind” Sebastian panted, as if on queue Amelia’s soft moan slipped past her lips and Sebastian couldn’t help but grin

Ominis made a disgusted sort of grunt before turning on his heel and heading back up to the corridor and away from the nonsense he’d just witnessed.

Sebastian scoffed to himself, he knew he’d be in trouble later but right now all that mattered was the girl pinned between him and the wall and her delicious noises that where just for him, that where now flooding his ears as he continued his pace, he felt her walls clench tightly around him and her body shudder with her orgasm, she cried out his name and it triggered his own climax and he felt himself twitch and he buried himself deep inside her letting out a primal grunt as he came.

He released her wrists as the two of them sank to the ground, he pulled her into his lap and looked down at her, as he smoothed her hair from her face he noticed her cheeks were wet with tears, he quickly brushed them away tilting her head up to look at him, the gravity of what they’d just done settling on him heavily.

“I’m Sorry” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers, tenderly this time

She pulled back and rested her forehead against his, he could still see the tears sparkling in her eyes, his grip on her tightened slightly

“I’m sorry, I thought I was punishing myself by keeping away from you, I didn’t think for a second I was hurting you too” he said softly, his fingers running through her long blonde hair in an effort to soothe her

“Sebastian…I’ll always care about you, I’m not going to ever stop caring for you, even when you push me away” she said softly her voice merely a whisper

Sebastian felt his heart twinge, after everything she was still here, being the sweetest most understanding person, he knew he didn’t deserve this in any form, she should have been furious with him and yet by some miracle here she was in his arms, entirely his.

“No more pushing away, I promise” he said finally his lips pressed gently to her forehead ~

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #fanfic

[dcrkbloods]

howdy! i’m pluto ( 21+, she/they ) and would like to introduce the catastrophe that is woo hyeseong. y'all he's just a funky fella... i’ll try my best to keep it as organized and brief as possible, but i do tend to overdo it . below the cut is the long story short. as for plotting and such i don’t mind giving out my discord!

𝖆 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖈𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖘  …  have a drink at my table , allow me to tell you stories — stories of dragons and burnt men . tell me about lord woo hyeseong  .  (  lee taemin,  cis male , he/him )    : ̗̀➛   twenty-nine years young , a firebender from the noble house of woo . many know them to be overconfident & aloof . how unfortunate , truly … i’ve always found them to be intuitive & captivating . they oft fulfill the duties of a courtesan . oh , i should tell you — they are impartial to the rule of house yi . well , you know how every storyteller bends the tale they tell .

the second born to house woo, not his father’s child. his mother was having affairs with various people after the oldest child was born. he eventually became legitimized

their family dynamic is shaped around a scornful & unforgiving father and an extremely cunning & manipulative mother. none of them are very close to one another. lord junwon’s death ( many are skeptical of lady minji and believe she brought him to his untimely end ) was truthfully mourned by everyone but his own family. whether it was his mother or not, hyeseong believes the man got what was coming to him.

the passing of the youngest daughter, yunha, should’ve been something he felt strongly about, but it was something he instead learned how to push down and tuck away. 

overtime it seemed lady minji only became more and more cold. if that were even possible. she was excellent at convincing him that everything she said or did was out of love and that it would only make him stronger. the world was far harsher than anything she’d done or put him through, so he should count his blessings. he wasn’t alone in this, she was fair and gave her children equal treatment. 

he seemed to constantly be in one competition after another with each of his siblings. between dancing, bending, various fighting forms, picking up their mother’s teachings with poisons, or any independent creative outlets, there was always something to prove. it was a losing battle, and one they all tried to kill each other over. 

the pride he felt from his mother was brief, but it was there when he fully committed himself to mastering his firebending. she gave him absolute hell when he struggled to control his breathing or concentration, but overtime his control over the flame, and the balance between it and himself, became second nature. his performances showed that balance as he danced, and as beautiful as it was he would never quite reach his mother’s level of talent. something she used for that extra salt in the wound and motivation.

dancing felt more like a chore and something he was forced into as he was growing up, but he found peace in it the older he got. he found a rhythm with it and would create his own movements and dances as he went.

his life as a courtesan wasn’t anything he’d planned, and being of noble status he certainly didn’t need to venture down the path. at the end of the day his hands were too soft to be roughing it out in the military or undergoing any more training than what his family had already put him through. besides it pulled him out of the monotony of day to day life under his mother. clients and patrons funded his various creative whims. over time he filled his private room with expensive paints, canvases, jewelry, silks, tapestries, hallucinogenic teas, and whatever else he found value in.

hyeseong’s passions are fleeting and change with the seasons, but the one constant is his love for painting. he will frequently lock himself away for days to finish a piece. not many people see them and he’s not in the business of showing them off.

interactions with him go exactly how people imagine them to go. if he is anything, it’s predictable. he’s not outwardly friendly, insults people with backhanded compliments, picks at nerves in a way only he can, and is extremely confident in his abilities/decisions without having any reason to be. there’s not much of a soft spot in him for anything aside from himself, and even that is debatable. while he’s predictable, he can also be very sporadic in his decision making and values his wants and desires above all else. somewhere along the way he weaseled his mindset out of following in the line set out for him by his mother, and leaned into being the family disappointment.

heavy on the impartial stance for the rule of house yi. if it doesn’t stop him from going about his day to day life then he won’t ever see much point in putting his foot on either side of the fence. it could very well change as the political landscape changes and if those changes directly affect his wellbeing, but for now he chooses to live in blissful ignorance.

okayyyy... i think that's all i've got for now. it feels a lil messy, but i'm still pulling bits of him out of the clay. that being said, i do have a headcanons page here & a page for specific wanted plots here ( that i am still working on.. y'all caught me slackin ) for a little more insight. i'm super excited to dive into him and see what he gets into, so like this for plotting and i'll come to you!

#the burning sea: intro #rs.intros #iiiiii am so excited #this feels so unorganized but i can't keep looking at it🤩 #ill be editing his pages and should be around when i have time at work today!! #guys i also don't know what that picture up there looks like im on mobile.... its driving me a lil nuts