#a rare smiling louis needs to be cherished

[gaypeople]

May I have this dance?

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE 2.01 | What Can the Damned Really Say to the Damned

[boricuacherry-blog]

It reads: '1st time he beat me up after Louis + Nanie Mary anniversary party. Started on the street corner of NYC 5th Ave at about 9 (pm).

Brown got with him at 18 and filed for divorce in 1992, but she was unable to leave Simpson and wrote a letter in which she said she wanted him back. She wrote: 'I want to put our family back together! I want our kids to grow up with their parents. I thought I'd be happy raising Sydney & Justin by myself - since we didn't see too much of you anyway. I want to be with you! I want to love you and cherish you, and make you smile. I want to wake up with you in the mornings and hold you at night. I want to hug and kiss you everyday. I want us to be the way we used to be. For the past I've been looking at our wedding tape and our family movies - and I can see that we truly loved each other.' She signed off with: 'I'll love you forever and always.'

Domestic violence survivors often have mixed feelings after they end a relationship with an abuser. They wanted the abuse to stop. But they also remember when their partner was loving, thoughtful and even kind. Over time their minds can block out some of the bad memories as a way to cope with trauma, sometimes leaving them questioning whether they made the right decision to leave. Holding onto the good memories can be a way of justifying why someone stayed in the relationship so long. And a survivor may want to hold onto those good memories if they have kids who spend time with the abuser, to lessen the worry they have about sharing custody with an abuser. It can be difficult recognizing that the abuser orchestrated positive experiences as part of their cycle of power and control. Letting go of the good memories often means acknowledging that you were groomed, manipulated, gaslighted, or duped. It takes additional grieving to let go of the good. With time, survivors learn to reframe what they perceive as "good," because living with abuse can color that perception, as well as alter their experience of reality.

Abusers often use intermittent reinforcement as well as high arousal and bonding periods that results in a tight emotional bond with the victim. Intermittent reinforcement [in the context of abuse] is a pattern of cruel, callous treatment intertwined with random bursts of affection. This causes the victim to perpetually seek the abuser's approval, while settling for the crumbs of their occasional positive behavior, in hopes the abuser will return to the honeymoon stage. This manipulation tactic also causes the victim to perceive their rare positive behaviors in an amplified manner. When oxytocin, serotonin, dopamine, cortisol and adrenaline are involved, the bond of the relationship can strengthen in the brain, and hook victims like a gambler at a slot machine playing the game for a huge win despite the massive losses. Dopamine also flows more readily with intermittent reinforcement - creating an addiction that is not unlike drug addiction. This is only one of the ways the brain is affected by abuse. It can be hard for the traumatized individual to break the bond. Abusers also typically lovebomb victims before and after cycles of abuse.

On October 25, 1993 Nicole dialed 911 yet again, telling the dispatcher: 'He's back.'

When told to stay on the line, Nicole says: 'I don't want to stay on the line he's going to beat the s*** out of me.'

According to Nicole's close friend Robin Greer, Simpson had become 'very jealous' that she had seen other men while they were apart.

On the 911 call Nicole can be heard saying: 'OJ the kids are sleeping.'

Simpson shouts back: 'You didn't give a f**** about that when you were sucking his d*** in the living room!'

Tanya Brown, Nicole's sister, breaks down in tears as she reads an entry in Nicole's diary that she wrote one month before she was killed.

It read: 'We've officially split. I've told OJ we're going back to every other weekend. I need the rest. OJ is gone so much - he needs the alone time with them til he leaves again. He's been gone the last four weekends - so I've asked if we can start with him this weekend.'

[fumikomiyasaki]

“I sleep better if you’re around.”

Kimon & Andrew

Soft sentence starters

On that day Andrew was almost done checking up on potential buisness partners... it was plenty tiring to keep up a smile and that charisma he had for all of them, yet he was used to just pretending, to just fake a lot about him to get some good deals... yet there was one person he could just be himself around.

Eventually he got a message on his phone and instead of returning to his dorm where most people just looked down on him, he walked into the Armonye dorm to meet up with Kimon... seeing them sit on the bed while Louis feeds them some bread, he got greeted by his usual stinky eye at him.

"I guess I am not needed here anymore."

A clear sign of annoyance in his voice that he didn't want to bother Kimon with as he passed Andrew still glaring at him... he sighed a little as he sat next to them feeling them nuzzle their head against his lap.

"Guess there is no real place i am welcome at..."

"Why would you think that? You are always welcome with me Andy."

He smiled a little, putting his hand on Kimons head and stroking it a little.

"I sleep better if you’re around.”

He chuckled as Kimon uttered a small yawn.

"I feel the same, if I take a nap with you I feel its the only rare times where I actually feel loved and cozy."

"Even if many people don't like you, I will be happy to have you around... can you lean back, I wanna lay onto you."

Andrew did as they said and took them in his arms... holding close onto this moment in a way.

"I know that you will always find me, even among my identical brothers."

"Hehe."

Finally he could endulge in a moment of rest... just cherish this warmth that was in his arms and forget about the stress previously.

[etrefleurbleues]

knight kneels by gravestone, ever so gently, minding the dirt before it - where a body rested, now sprouted with weeds, flowers, and grass. an older resting place for one long since passed, but forever cherished, thumb and forefinger push crusted sediment from the tombstone.

' JULIE AND MARK ' is the only thing he can make out. it seemed they were buried together, how dear is that? at least, when lowered into their final bed, they did not need to tackle such a frontier alone. louis smiles.

"the weeds here seem a tad troublesome . . . perhaps we ought to plant some flowers, sometime," louis sets to mixing the cement glue, a small container steadily stirred. "say, prince alfred, why don't you and i catch up in the meantime?"

slowly does louis apply the glue, pushing the excess off with a rag so to not messy the handiwork of the gravestone as is. "now," he begins. "you have been here far longer than me, no? tell me, has fodlan formed any beautiful memories ? something to make your heart sing, if you would."

hand sets the first stone upon the glue, and he holds it down. "i'd like to hear it, if you'd be happy to share."

alfred was the sociable type. in recent memory, it seemed to be the case that, in times of despair, it was alfred who would provide the necessary optimism needed. whether it be fleeing from hounds in torrential rain, or simply an off day, rarely had louis see alfred effectively knocked down. the crown prince of firene, donning the sunlight the nation prided itself in having, blossoming into what he is just like flowers in spring -- louis always found it nice. a good observation, and a pleasant chat.

"new friends , even ?" a pause. "new tricks or fanciful weapons you've found yourself fond of ?"

memories of home.

[hekateinhell]

NSFW prompt: Louis is sucking the tips of Armand's index and ring fingers absent-mindedly.

For the NSFW prompts: Louis/Armand, post-canon, rated M (vampire sex, finger sucking, Armand’s a top—but is he really?)

Armand rarely asks outright for what he wants.

Even in New York, Louis had to rely on his lover's subtle glances—the feel of a cool hand sliding against his and clinging just a bit tighter, a kiss that lingered a fraction of a second longer than usual—to know when something was amiss and required rectifying.

Perhaps Lestat had made a quip that touched on an old wound; it could be that Marius had flown into a temper once more. The possibilities were endless at this circus of a court.

But now they're here, together again, limbs intertwined on the blue satin sheets. Louis's hands on Armand's shoulders, less to brace himself and more so to reassure the other of his presence—to comfort him, as if Armand could not possibly be more aware of him in this moment.

His head buried into the crook of Louis's shoulder, silent except for the soft whimpers and quick breaths that escape him with every forward thrust of his hips into the welcoming body beneath him.

Make no mistake, Armand could be a vocal lover and often was. Yet, whenever he got into this state, he couldn't particularly find the conviction to articulate his need to stake his claim—to remind himself in a language he was fluent in that Louis still loved him, hadn't left him, would always desire him.

"Let me see your face, Armand." Louis keeps his voice as gentle and measured as possible, as though he were an animal tamer speaking to an easily spooked wildcat.

Feels the tremors build in Armand's frame as he shakes his head against his throat and increases his pace; feels his own undoing, his sweet little death, start to build feverishly. Each nerve ending seemingly pulsating and electrified, the passion finally beginning to overtake the more rational side of him.

"Do it for me, mon coeur. I want to see you."

Maybe it's the words themselves—the emphasis on you in the deep, soft-spoken, unassumingly seductive voice that Armand cherishes so much, a voice he'd once done anything for and still would—but it has the intended effect. He yields slightly, allowing his beloved to take him in as he is, in every sense.

Such a gentleman... Too good to me. Too beautiful, too human, too forgiving, much too kind...

The steady and reverent cadence of Armand's telepathic communications almost humorously at odds with the heavy groans spilling out of him now, as though they were being dragged out from the very core of his being. I love you so ... Please don't-

And then it's over, Armand gripping Louis's hands to intertwine their fingers over his dark hair, eyes fluttering shut with the intensity of his orgasm and the subsequent emotional come-down.

Louis isn't far behind, and the last gentle nudge of Armand's hips before he collapses forward onto his chest sends him over the edge. Long limbs locked around Armand's waist, catching the hazy, fragmented thoughts aimlessly projecting his name Louis, Louis, Louis... hearing, feeling the erratic thundering of both their heartbeats as he paints their stomachs with his release.

He's still blinking rather dazedly when Armand slips out with a quiet grunt and rolls over onto his side, an arm draped possessively over Louis's torso while he nestles against his bicep, pressing a soft kiss to the marble-white skin.

"I needed you, and you were there," A hitch to his voice; Armand still not fully recovered. "Merci, my love."

Louis pets his auburn hair, tresses wild as ever and lightly matted with blood sweat. "I'm always here, Armand, aren't I? Simply say the word, mon ange."

Picks up a hand, smaller than his. Momentarily studying the differences between his hand and Armand's; the fingers slighter, shorter, yet no less elegant, glass nails just as hard.

Armand's lips curve into a smile, his breathing slowing enough to signify he's beginning to fall into a lazy mortal sleep. One hand tucked between their bodies, the other coming to rest against Louis's angular jawline, his fingertips grazing at the generous bottom lip.

Mine too, mine too.

"Always," Louis promises, kissing each digit he can reach. Knowing that logically Armand understands this, understands the reality of the situation. Hoping that each one of their trysts now will go some way towards rebuilding his self-esteem and self-confidence back to what it was in Manhattan when it was the two of them and their little family.

Armand smiles again, his exhaustion overtaking him as his body responds to the spoken consolation and physical comfort like a kitten to a blazing fire on a frigid winter's night. My darling philosopher.

The night is still young, with plenty of time to hunt later once Armand has rested properly and is himself once more. Yet, the exertion is also starting to take its toll, manifesting differently in Louis compared to his worn-out mate. His thirst suddenly making itself known, throat aching—if he were any less of the gentleman Armand so often refers to him as, Louis would flip him onto his back this very instant and embed his teeth into that sweet, supple throat. Drink his fill.

Armand would permit him; he would welcome it, delight in it. He enjoys rough from time to time as well, craving what he considers evidence that Louis lusts for him just as much.

A quiet whimper distracts from this reverie, and emerald-green eyes flicker to Armand—awakened and clearly still in an amorous mood, plump lips parted and a light flush rising to his cheeks as he stares at Louis's mouth with the fixation of a hungry panther.

It takes a beat longer than necessary for Louis to realize why—not that that particular look from Armand is anything unusual in and of itself. Still, he had seemed so utterly drained mere minutes ago.

At some point during Armand's slumber and Louis's daydreams, two of the fingertips that had been lingering on Louis's face shifted, slipping past the fullness of his lip and into the wet crevice of his mouth.

Hadn't even realized he'd been suckling on them until he was preparing to speak, the glassy nail of an index finger touching the roof of his mouth; gazing at the fleshy side of Armand's ring finger with his fang.

“Do it,” Armand whispers, a patent command under the guise of a demure sigh. Let me nourish you tonight.

So Louis does, carefully rotating the slim wrist without ever relinquishing the fingers in his mouth; giving them a harsher, more purposeful suck before aligning the soft pad of Armand's index finger with the razor-sharp tip of his fang.

Bon appétit, mon amour.

[chamomileharry]

Hello! Hope your spring break is going good! What are your overall fave fics?

hi, thanks for the ask! it’s cools so far (: here are a couple of my favorite fics i hope you enjoy <3  Definition of Beauty (6.1k)// by zanni_scaramouche

“Your book is upside down.” Harry nods at Louis’ book, his history text now that he sees it too.

“I’d rather study you.”

They both blink, startled by the slip.

“With you. Study with you,” Louis rushes to say. “Liam says I’m shite at history, can you help?”

Louis’ caught off guard by an omega he nearly takes out with an errant footie ball. It’s not that Louis’ never seen Harry before, it’s that he can’t stop looking, and he’s desperate to figure him out.

My Sun and Stars, Moon of my Life (7.2k) // OhHarold

Harry was used to the luxuries of Kings Landing and then Pentos but when his brother is desperate for the crown he is entitled to, Harry must be part of an arranged marriage to a ruthless Khal of a Dothraki tribe.

It’s a Beautiful Sound, It’s a Beautiful Noise (7.5k) // by orphan_account

He feels Louis’ fangs piercing the pale skin of his neck without warning, pain shooting down the upper half of his body. He feels a sucking sensation at the spot, like a drink being sucked from a straw. He feels the vampire’s lips suckling the surrounding area, drawing out every last drop of blood like Harry is the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

or, harry loses his halo, and he really needs to get it back

Bloom (8.3k)// by loveroflou

At some point they end up with hands and clothes caked with mud, courtesy of Louis, and instead of offering his bath for Harry to wash up Louis pushes him to the ground and straddles his waist, finger painting a muddy flower on his forehead as Harry trembles with laughter beneath his hands.

or, harry meets a boy who speaks with flowers, and red chrysanthemums might mean i love you but so do mud fights, lipstick prints and stolen ribbons

The Risen (11.2k) // by creamcoffeelou

In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.

Come on over, we’ve got something to share (12.6k) // by jaerie

Even as an unbonded omega with a four year old, Harry had everything he needed. His beautiful son, a nice apartment, money to pay the bills -- oh, and an alpha next door always willing to knot his brains out.

faith, trust and pixie dust (and a little bit of something else too) (27k) // by orphan_account

“Are you seriously apologizing for taking out a bullet that was lodged in my shoulder and saving my life?” he asks slowly. “Y—yes?” the boy looks unsure of himself now.

“Marry me—”

For once, the boy isn’t the only one blushing and Louis silently curses Earthen terminology for making its way into his vocabulary.

Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, he coughs out, “I mean thanks. That was very nice of you…?”

“Harry,” the boy fills in quietly, flashing Louis a tentative smile. Louis thinks it suits him well and he mouths the name to himself, liking the way it rolls off his tongue. He watches as Harry hesitates before asking his own question, albeit doubtfully.

“And you’re—you’re P—Peter Pan, right?”

Or, the one in which Louis is a punk Peter Pan and Harry is an insecure flower child.

secrets don’t make friends (30k) // by devilinmybrain

5 times Louis' crew knew too much, and the 1 time they thought they knew, but didn't really. Not at all.

I Want To Be With You Everywhere (30k) // by haztobegood

A Seed from the Cherished Tree A Cloud from the Mighty Summit A Flower from the Perpetual Volcano A Pearl from the Perceptive Lake A Love across the Faery Realms

Fae Proposals were a rare and ancient ritual. The presentation of the four Tokens to one’s mate would initiate a lifelong, inter-realm bond between their souls. But the Tokens could only be gathered if the lover could overcome the elements of all four Faery Realm Trials.

The Trials were dangerous, deadly even. But for Harry, Louis would risk it all.

Under your skin, Over the moon (35k) // by softfonds

If there was one thing Harry didn’t expect the day before his uni graduation, it was for his long lost grandmother to show up and tell him he’s actually a prince thats next in line to rule Genovia. He also didn’t expect to fall for his royal advisor, who happens to hate his guts. A Princess Diaries AU.

Our Sweetest Memorial (35k) // by softfonds

Ever since Harry was forced to break off an engagement five years ago, he resolved to never marry for the remainder of his life. Now his family must move out of his beloved Kellynch Hall to recover some of their debts that their father had accumulated. The last thing Harry expected was for the new tenants to be related to his former fiancee. And for that fiancee to come back to Somersetshire a much more wealthy man that still holds resentment for their past. A Persuasion AU.

I’ve Kissed Honey Lips (Felt the Healing in the Fingertips) (36.1k)// by loveroflou

Carefully, Zayn starts, “You do know Niall wasn’t joking about him being unstable, right?” Louis opens his mouth to cut him off, but Zayn continues, “He might not have done anything yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t, or won’t.”

“You don’t know him,” Louis tries, because it’s true. The only problem is that Louis doesn’t really know Harry, either.

or, the raisin cookie fic please read the tags and remember to leave kudos and a nice comment for the author!  if you have any requests, feel free to ask please! 💕enjoy (:

[whimstories]

Summary: Vague Isekai concept. Marinette is transported into a world she read in a book and comes to fall for the female lead who was drastically misrepresented in the novel. 

A/N: I didn’t expect to write some random scenes today. This isn’t a full story, sadly. I just wanted to post some things I wrote because Marigami needs more content, and this pairing is vastly not given the attention and respect it deserves. 

Enjoy ~ ✨

//////////////////

“But I don’t wish to be just a man’s wife, I want…I wish to be…”

“But you are!” Marinette exclaimed. 

Kagami’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“You don’t need permission or approval, you’re already a politician. A scholar. A warrior. Your sword is more beautiful than anyone I’ve seen. You don’t need to waste your breath wishing.”

“You say that but—“

“Please don’t contradict me. It hurts me to see you doubting yourself so much when you’re already beyond extraordinary.”

Kagami’s cheeks flushed a rosy color and she looked shyly at the ground. “You’re full of praises today.” 

“Make it more difficult to find praise then,” Marinette grinned. “I wish I had half your virtues.” 

“You’re much more virtuous,” Kagami whispered, sounding almost too sincere. For a moment Marinette’s heart stopped, fluttering with warmth and searing pride. But she covered it with a sip of her tea, knowing better.  

Marinette smiled kindly. “So when are we going to interrupt the men’s meeting on that dreadful land acquisition?”

“We shouldn’t.” Kagami sighed. 

“All the more reason.”

“Adrien would be embarrassed and mother would be furious. I couldn’t possibly.”

“Adrien is a bit…slow at times. I think he’d be elated to see his wonderful fiancée standing for what she believes in. He’s that much of a good man, at least.”

“Yes…he is good,” Kagami glanced at Marinette as if to add something but looked away again in thought. “But mother will hear of it. There’s no returning from disappointing her.”

Marinette hesitated, knowing the fear of failing one’s family. “Your mother is as accomplished as you are, yet I find it odd she doesn’t support your dreams.”

“My mother is a traditionalist. She accomplished much, but she’s calculated and conservative. She’s never acted outside the bounds of societal law. She expects the same of me.”

“You make her sound villainous.”

“Another conservative term for her.”

Marinette bristled in her seat and when Kagami looked at her she lifted a napkin to her mouth where a small amused noise burst from her lips. “She’s not so horrible. I admire my mother in many ways.”

Marinette wished she’d move the napkin so she could view the rare sight of Kagami’s smiles but her eyes also burst with a fondness that was equally as lovely. “But you believe your situation will grow worse if you disobey her.” 

“No...I—“ Kagami sat in silence for a while, then her brows furrowed. “I’ve never disobeyed before,” she finished. 

Marinette looked at her sadly but righted herself with a cross of her arms and feigned a huff. “Kagami, fold your napkin.”

Kagami snapped her head upwards, alert. She slowly did as instructed. “Yes? Why, what’s the matter?”

“Stand.”

Still confused, she stood with the good graces bestowed on her education. 

“Walk towards me please and grab my hand.”

Kagami walked a step before hesitating. Her face seemed to freeze in a panic. “Won’t you tell me why?”

“Can you not do it?” Marinette parried. 

Kagami blinked back, clearly challenged but slowly took Marinette’s hands in a gentle hold. They were soft and warm, yet strong and worn from training. Marinette had to ignore her thrill. “Now, look me straight in the eyes and tell me,” she paused dramatically, “you do not regret eating my pastries.” 

Kagami looked surprised. “They were amazing, I’ll cherish them the rest of my days. Of course, I’d never regret it.”

Oh. Marinette was teasing but the sincerity suddenly made her hands feel very warm. Marinette blinked violently to play off the warmth of her face. “A-and that you do not regret wearing that Louis Forton gown to the last gala.” 

Kagami sighed and her lips fought from curling. The dress was truly a complicated monstrosity that even amnesia couldn’t sear from the mind. “That was unavoidable. I can forgive that much.” 

“And that you won’t regret your arranged engagement.”

Her hands flinched in Marinette’s. “I—of course, I—never would,” she said, stilted, and blatantly looked away from Marinette’s gaze that Marinette was surprised. 

She continued, “And that the feeling of satisfying your mother is more precious than the feeling of picking up a sword.” 

Kagami’s face stilled. Her hands clenched Marinette tightly, but she stared forward in a new sense of wonder. A sense of clarity. Her eyes shone with a wet sheen, like a diamond forming dewdrops. 

She stood a long while, opening and closing her mouth. “Am I allowed such a thing? To not say it?” 

“It would not make you less of a wonderful daughter.”

“But it would make me a selfish one.”

“For a parent, a child could never be selfish. You’ve never been disobedient, so how can you know how she would react?” Marinette said. “And even so, even if she reacted poorly, she is not the one who has to live your life. Endure the choices. It is not your fault you were born a duchess’s daughter, but it is your responsibility to shape what this life has presented you. And so far you have disregarded that responsibility.”

“Then what should I do?” She asked slowly, as if sure no one could have an answer.

“What you want,” Marinette said simply with a shrug and a smile. 

Kagami hummed, staring at Marinette. Marinette could imagine she perhaps admired Marinette’s nativity, and that Marinette’s words meant nothing at all. But it hurt her to see such a wonderful person, a wonderful spirit like Kagami feeling trapped when she had such potential. 

Then Kagami’s face lifted miraculously into a soft smile. A rare and blossoming sight that shone like colors bouncing from her chest. Kagami grasped and lifted Marinette’s hands to her mouth, placing a brief kiss on the tips. Marinette’s face inflamed. 

“Thank you,” Kagami whispered. 

“W-what for?” Marinette laughed nervously, not sure what else to do. “I just told the truth. I hope I wasn’t acting too ridiculous.” 

“You’re never ridiculous. I always enjoy being with you. I’m very glad we’ve met, Marinette.” 

God, this woman is a weapon. I don’t think I can stand. Marinette finally pulled her hands away and contradicted herself by standing with enormous force. 

“Yes, I always enjoy your company too. Gosh, it’s warm. I should go for a walk. Not you though, you should finish your tea. Not that I don’t think you’ll keep up or incapable just—I’ll return, okay?” 

——-------------

“Marinette? Are you there?”

“Marinette sat upright and stared disbelieving at her door. “Kagami?” she whispered and ushered to open the door. Kagami stood, swaying slightly at the entrance. 

“Marinette,” she said the name so simply and with sweetness Marinette knew she was not of the right mind. 

“Come inside quickly.” They walked to Marinette’s bed and sat. “Did you drink?”

“The men wanted to have talks in the parlour. I didn’t back down and joined them.”

Marinette became alarmed. “They didn’t harm you or—?”

Kagami shook her head a little dramatically. “Many of them collapsed after I challenged them to some games. I ordered some maids to escort them then…well, I walked here.” 

“Oh,” Marinette snickered. “I wasn’t aware you were an expert at drinking games.” 

“Neither was I.”

Marinette shook her head. Of course, Kagami would be stupendous at something she never tried before. “Well, drunk or not I’m always happy to keep you company.” 

Kagami smiled sweetly again. “I could not think of better company no matter the situation.”

Marinette’s heart squeezed. Two wondrous smiles in one night, Marinette might faint from sight. “You mustn’t say that when Adrien is around,” she joked.

“But I’m sure Adrien knows it as well. I can hardly bear to leave you for a moment.” 

“What about sword training? I bet you couldn’t tell me I’m better company than your most treasured activity?” 

“Even that…perhaps.” 

Marinette's heart thundered against her chest. The room stilled and she felt she must have heard wrong. Nothing could matter more to Kagami, it was in the book. Kagami’s independence was a relationship of love itself, no matter how glorious she was, no one was enough. Yet…perhaps…

“May I…have your hand?” Kagami asked, staring intently at Marinette’s hand against the sheets. Marinette was busy stopping her heart from stuttering out of her chest and now Kagami said something so ridiculously ambiguous and wanted to touch her—Marinette didn’t think she would survive the night let alone the next few minutes. 

“Can I not?” Kagami asked when Marinette took too long. 

Startled, Marinette exclaimed, “Yes! Of course!” louder than proper and presented her hand upwards as if waiting for a palm reader’s forbidding prediction. She hoped it wasn’t obvious how her handle trembled. 

Kagami took her hand gently, the tips of her fingers tickling the back. Their hands slid over one another at various angles: a hook of thumbs, that courteous raise of the fingers, an intertwining of fingers. Marinette’s nerves made the atmosphere feel heavy and electric. Was this not intimate by all standards? Or was she overthinking? Her heart raced and Kagami seemed to languidly test all the ways their hands would fit as if it was custom. 

Marinette could not suppress her nervousness and leaned forward with a laugh. “Are you looking for something?” 

Kagami’s lids were drooping and heavy, yet her gaze was fiercely focused on her ministrations. She hummed and pulled Marinette’s palm upwards. Her lips pressed firmly, right to the center of Marinette’s palm. She moved the hand towards her cheek with a content sigh and a sleepy smile. 

“Yes, this is what I wanted.”

Marinette’s body screamed. She’s sure her heart stopped, how could she dare to hope to win against such a daring attack? Was Kagami a cozy drunk? It’s good she left those men behind, she would have hated showing herself like this. But to act so intimately—Marinette’s body was on fire. 

After a few breaths and realizing Kagami had a firm grip on Marinette’s arm and looked much too content to be moved, Marinette took a moment to appreciate—at least a little—her position. 

Kagami’s cheek was soft and smooth. It fit perfectly in her hand. Her cheek was a little warm, probably from the alcohol, but it was enticingly inviting. Marinette shifted forward, heat building between them, to get her arm more comfortable. 

“Are you awake?” Marinette whispered. 

Kagami blinked lazily into a droopy stare. Something told Marinette that Kagami might not remember this tomorrow. 

“I’m going to lay you down to sleep.” She looked Kagami up and down. “We should probably get you a little comfortable too.” 

Her grip squeezed Marinette’s wrist in emphasis. “I’m perfectly comfortable.”

Marinette laughed nervously. A clingy drunk, indeed. “I won’t leave you. W-we’ll…if you like, we can sleep together.” 

Kagami nodded as if it was the most natural conclusion. “Yes.”

“Ri-right.” 

Marinette edged Kagami gently to remove her outer garments. At times Kagami would catch her hand for another touch of her lips; Marinette applauded her ability to remain standing. Marinette dimmed the lights before carefully edging her way to one side of the bed. Kagami’s eyes never left her and tugged Marinette immediately down to the sheets. 

“Ah, Kagami!” Marinette exclaimed, happy the dim lights could hide her warm face. 

Marinette’s hand cradled Kagami’s cheeks once more, held close like some precious stuffed toy. “Let us sleep,” Kagami asserted. 

How can you act so bossy when I’m the one taking care of you? Marinette’s mind grumbled. 

“I hope you remember this tomorrow,” Marinette mumbled. 

“I will,” Kagami sighed, close to sleep. 

“If you do, you should reward me for taking care of you.”

“Anything you want.” 

Marinette grinned, sly. “Don’t forget. I really suffered. Honestly.”

Kagami hummed, clearly sleeping a moment later. Her breath tickled Marinette’s wrist and her hair grazed softer than the silk pillows. Marinette’s mouth parted, staring at the soft light in the room illuminating her slightly red cheeks. 

Her chest could not unravel and her gaze could not stray. Her stomach tightened and pooled with heat many times as she laid there. 

Before she could fall asleep, she moved her thumb a few times against that pristine cheek. Kagami breathed deep once and sighed happily. Her lips, softer than a rose, lifted slightly. Marinette grumbled once more, “Suffering is putting it very lightly.”

——---------

Marinette woke up groggy and alone in the morning. 

She stretched high to the canopy and wondered why her chest ached. The maid came in a moment later and said, “Kagami is waiting for you in the greenhouse.” 

Oh. Her stomach flipped. “Was Kagami awake early this morning?” 

“As usual. Not even silly wasted old men can unsettle our lady.” 

Marinette hummed. Kagami probably didn’t want to disturb her. Judging from the time of day, Marinette slept later than usual. “Ah, right. I heard she drank them under the table.”

“It was a true sight!” The maid gushed. “Our lady wanted to speak about business ventures in the northern lands but they only agreed if she won a round of cards. They played various games in which the loser would drink a large cup of sake. It was a dirty rule. But she rarely lost, and never slurred or stumbled when she did. Even this morning they were grumbling over headaches and she didn’t seem phased at all.” 

So she didn’t drink much last night. Is she a light drunk? Marinette giggled. “Our lady is too tremendous.” 

“I was appalled when Adrien didn’t watch over her, but I suppose he knew our lady better than us all.”

“Adrien wasn’t at the parlour?” Marinette asked, surprised. 

The maid was tugging Marinette’s dress into place as she said, “He headed to bed early after the first round. A man leaving his fiancee unattended with a room of stuffy men—I wanted to smack his behind the ears!” 

Marinette supposed Adrien would have attended Kagami to her rooms instead of letting her wander to Marinette’s. Perhaps he was finally accepting her capabilities, but something seemed wrong about leaving outright. 

“How would you like your hair, my lady?” 

Marinette hummed. “Just a few pins today.”

She walked to the greenhouse, the wind playing with her loose strands along the way. She took a deep breath before going past the glass doors. 

Kagami was leaning back in her seat, hair half hazardously in a ponytail and garbed in her training attire. Her clothes clung perfectly, showing off her strong legs and defined waist. The light adorned her hair like turquoise stars dancing on the strands. Marinette had to clutch her chest before it leaped out. 

How does this woman look more handsome than any male model on a cheesy romance cover? 

Kagami caught her eyes and Marinette held her breath. Kagami put down her cup of tea and cleared her throat. Marinette walked forward and gave a small greeting. “Good morning.” 

Kagami’s eyes tentatively caught hers. “Yes. Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“It was alright.” Marinette sat and a maid poured her a cup. The color was milky and when Marinette lifted it, it was sweet. Peppermint black milk tea, her favorite. Marinette glanced upwards and fought a raised brow as she sipped. She sighed content. “You must have slept wonderfully.”

Kagami cleared her throat. Again. Marinette was fighting a smile. “When have I not?”

“Oh yes, how could I doubt you? Though, I was referring to your full day yesterday. You stuck with the men all day and left the wives and fiancees to their gossip without your input.”

“It wasn’t as scary as I thought,” Kagami said. “The men were as bad as the ladies with gossip and wholly unprepared for my education or opinions. Honestly, I feel I might have bullied them.” Her face didn’t change— as if discussing the weather— but her eyes sparkled and her tone tilted on amused. 

“Is it bullying to be educated?” Marinette mused behind another sip. 

“Only if you’re a woman. The element of surprise is an unfair advantage. Perhaps they’ll be more prepared next time.”

Marinette perked and grinned. “So you’re determined?”

“I feel more at ease. Perhaps I’m really not suited to being a wallflower for the rest of my days.”

“Certainly not. You should inherit and manage the Tsurugi estates and assets without the need for a partner. You’re easily capable of that much.”

Kagami’s body softened in the light. “As you’ve told me.”

“You should listen, I’m wiser than I look.”

Kagami looked down at her cup, losing herself in thought. Marinette looked around the flowers and butterflies in the afternoon. She downed another cup of tea slowly unwinding from her nervousness. 

“Last night…” Kagami started slowly. Marinette hid behind her cup and raised her eyes in acknowledgment. “I acted childishly.”

“Oh? To what are you referring?” 

“It’s hazy,” Kagami bit her lip and fiddled with the edge of her snack plate. “But I rudely burst into your rooms and acted unbecomingly. I want to apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” 

“You were very expressive,” Marinette grinned. “It was very cute.”

Kagami huffed in her seat, fiddling with her long braid with rosy cheeks. “Please don’t say it like that.” 

“What? You said it was your first time drinking. I was very honored to experience a new side to you.” 

“I told you that?” Kagami grumbled lowly, head tucked. She timidly glanced upwards. “What else did I say?” 

Marinette pretended to ponder, filling the space by reaching for snacks and sipping her drink. “It’s not so much what you said but what you did.” 

Marinette glanced at Kagami and she stared resolutely at Marinette as if missing any micro movement would place her life in jeopardy. Marinette stuttered in her teasing. She thought Kagami would be embarrassing but was she perhaps…curious about Marinette’s reaction?

“U-um…” Marinette stuttered and stirred too much sugar into her tea. She didn’t flinch even as the overwhelming sweetness hit her lips. “You did say you enjoyed my company. Nothing else.” 

“Mm, I do,” Kagami said simply. Then she sighed. “I invaded your space and acted brazenly. I suppose I’m starved of affection,” giving a self-deprecating chuckle. 

It was a heartbreaking sound. “No—no! I was happy you felt close enough to come to me. In fact, I’d—well I’d…” Marinette gulped a breath, realizing she was placing a blade over her head. “I wish you’d be open with me more often. I didn’t know if you’d welcome such affection.” 

“You’re alright with…? Rather you wish we were more affectionate?” 

It was Marinette’s turn to clear her throat. “I’ve always held hands and hugged my close friends. I assumed Kagami only made the rare exception to humor me, so I distanced myself.” 

“Well. I will admit you are my exception.”

Marinette’s face burst red. Then Kagami stood and moved her chair so it was inches from Marinette's. She looked up confused and when Kagami sat she offered her hand face-up, her expression calm. 

“Is this alright?”

Marinette covered her mouth with one hand, unsure how her face betrayed her, but placed the other within Kagami’s. Kagami entwined them in a strong grip that tingled up Marinette’s arm. 

Kagami’s face bloomed into a soft smile and she relaxed deep into her seat as if a weight left her shoulders. Marinette could not sip or eat the rest of the afternoon, feeling she had consumed too much sweetness for the day.

——

[yellowsugarwords]

Hey I've been reading your writing for a long time now and I love each and every piece you've wrote, you're amazing keep up the good work! I wanted to request a James x Reader fluff thing? Maybe they share their first kiss and James is like wowww I love this person???

oh man oh man ;-; this is soft af. thank you so much for reading my stuff buddy ❤️

James didn’t like groups.

Not since leaving the Whisperers.

But the Ericson kids felt like a rare exception;

A group of equals, seeking survival over power.

And when he learned they accepted the real him,

He felt all the more comfortable.

Over time, their small school began to grow.

Only accepting children or teens;

Only accepting those needing shelter and support after isolation.

And that’s how James met Y/N.

A year in, Louis had rescued them from the lake,

Bleeding out and abandoned in the water,

Left for dead.

Their old group had used them as  distraction,

Their mental health and struggle with sensory processing were what was attributed.

So, when Y/N had been wounded while hunting,

They left them behind.

The Ericson kids all gritted their teeth.

They hated stories like those, but they were common.

At Ericson, they were almost the norm.

They had gone from a school of misbehaving children,

To a home for the young, hurt, and outcast.

It was a safe haven, crafted by them and for them,

And they swore nothing would happen to Y/N again.

Their injury healed fairly quickly,

An arrow wound to the ankle the apparent cause.

Ruby tended to their wounds as they cried,

Squeezing James’ hand to detract from the pain.

It hurt a lot,

But James refused to flinch.

Their comfort was paramount right now.

In a week’s time, they were able to walk on their own,

Albiet wobbly,

But James was there through every step;

Every shake and sturdy one.

James was the one who offered to rehabilitate them,

Teach them the ins and outs of Ericson,

And show them the ropes.

He was delicate and kind,

The most patient out of the entire Ericson group.

He knew what it felt like to be outcast and isolated.

He refused to let Y/N’s injury,

Though no fault of their own,

Leave them as an outcast as well.

As their wound continued to heal, James took them out on chores.

They went fishing and hunting,

Wood collecting and scouting,

All hand-inn-hand.

It had started out as offering balance to Y/N as they walked,

But it became habit as Y/N got healthier.

Neither of them wanted it to stop.

Whenever one of them was worried, they squeezed,

And the other drew closer;

Both alert and aware.

That winter, James squeezed their hand and Y/N slipped closer to  him,

Shivering,

James wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close and keeping them warm.

“Wear this on our way back.” He said, draping his jacket sweetly over their shoulders.

“But you’ll get cold-“

“I wear too many layers anyways.” He said, offering a sheepish smile.

As he tugged up their hood, their eyes locked,

The snow fluttering on the ground all around them,

Mesmerizing by the colours and fragments of light in the other’ gaze.

James gulped.

“Should we head back?” He whispered,

The moment so delicate he didn’t want to break it.

Y/N smiled,

Lifting to capture his hands in theirs.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

Y/N reached for his hand, knitting their fingers with his,

Eyes not breaking their sweet contact.

James could only smile,

Mesmerized and smitten,

Flustered with what he was supposed to do,

What he wanted to do.

James’ thumb traced shapes on the back of their hand,

Eyes wandering the woods on alert.

Y/N nuzzled in closer to his side,

Cherishing the warmth.

Arriving home, James softly unlocked the gate and whisked them inside,

Locking it behind them.

“James, I-“

He whisked around and placed his palms on either side of their face,

Soothingly brushing at their cheeks,

Then crashed his lips to theirs.

It was a moment of magic,

And Y/N clutched onto his shirt,

Smiling into the moment.

By the time they pulled away, James sighed,

Ears, cheeks, and nose bright red.

“Wow,” he breathed,

One hand on their cheek,

The other squeezing one of their own.

“Congrats you two,” a voice called from up above.

The two flinched and looked up,

Spotting Louis in the watchtower.

“We’ve been waiting for you two to finally get together.”

The two blinked in shock,

Turned to each other,

And burst into a fit of little giggles.

Before either of them had finished,

they dove in for another sweet kiss,

Smiling and giggling all the way through it.

Wow.

Yes.

They were the one.

Every day, they were inseparable.

James placing cute flowers or trinkets behind their ears or in their hair,

Y/N drawing on the back of his hands or arms,

Making ‘fake tattoos’ for the both of them.

They did all there chores together,

Hand in hand,

And James always littered their cheeks with kisses once they returned.

“I’m glad you’re safe.”

Overtime, Y/N would laugh.

“I’m with you, of course I’m safe.”

James would always warmly smile,

Brushing snow or hair out of their face.

“I know. I’m just thankful.”

𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 💌☕️♡

[im-a-writer--im-in-distress]

Reign Preference

Writer: im-a-writer—im-in-distress.tumblr.com

Fandom: Reign

Preference with: Francis de Valois, Bash de Poitier,  Leith Bayard, Stéphane Narcisse, Henry II of France, Louis Condé

Rating: #Romance

Words: 750+

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: So... 1) I found these on my computer. I don’t remember when I wrote them, but it wasn’t for this blog. Which means it was for the old one I used to share with a friend, which means it’s been... 6+ years? I don’t remember when I wrote them, but I thought they were good, and worth sharing. (As such, they are unedited.) So, I’m posting them, along with another set: here. 2) I will not be creating an OC-version for these. Better to just let them be what they are. 3) If anyone’s interested in preferences, request away. I really need an excuse to get back into writing. And 5) Read & Review. I hope you like them.

Francis II

As king, Francis is often surrounded by the guard and he can never get a moment alone with you. To see you across the table or at the end of the corridor and not being able to touch you is killing him. So he retires early to his chambers one night and sneaks out to see you, leaving his unknowing guards by his bedroom door. Bribing one of the maids into secrecy, he smuggles the makings of a picnic from the kitchen before going to meet you out by the lake’s edge—where he knows you go to escape. He surprises you, dropping down beside you with the basket, that smile of child-like innocence on his face. The two of you enjoy the picnic, talking about less complicated things than politics or the juicy gossip from court. You tell him about your home, who you were as a child. He says he’d like to visit with you one day—you say you’ll take him.

Bash de Poitier

His new title of “King’s Deputy” keeps Bash busy most of the time, and by the end of the day, he usually just wants to crash. You know he feels bad, but it’s exhausting—what he does. So you decide to help him. You run to the stables and ready your own horse, before mounting and going to meet him at the entrance of the castle. His eyes light up when he sees what you were aiming to do, but he assures you that he’s not working today. Instead he climbs up behind you on your horse, and the two you take off across the open fields of France. You don’t know how long you ride, but when you stop, you no longer recognize the surroundings. You’ve reached an open meadow full of bright wild flowers dotting across the horizon. Bash helps you dismount, and then hands you his sword. You brighten as you he holds you from behind, showing you how to wield it. After you get the hang of it, he takes out a dagger of his own and you two spar as silhouettes on the sunset.

Leith Bayard

The two of you act like the oldest of friends. Whenever you get a chance, you make trouble for each other. You’ll leave little trails for him to follow, aiming to confuse him into giving up and asking you straight out. He’ll interrupt any conversation you try to have with anyone, even if could get you both in a load of trouble. He words himself trying to make you blush, and you challenge him with seemingly innocent quips. It’s usually you who loses, as he’s just so charming. But those rare moments when you beat him—those make you feel invincible.

Stéphane Narcisse

Aside from the smirks from across the room or the brush of a touch as you pass each other in the hall, you and Narcisse haven’t had any time together for a long time. You have to keep up appearances: keep your mouth shut where you’re opinion doesn’t belong, engage in polite conversation with the person next to you, smiling at their flirtations. But seeing one grab your arm and pull you close—he snaps. Narcisse makes a beeline for you, yanking you away from them and out of the room. He doesn’t stop until you’re in an abandoned corridor. His eyes bore into yours; you’re breathing shallow and heavy. He orders you to stop teasing him, that you smiling at someone else isn’t okay. Instead you tip your lips to his ear and whisper, “Let the games begin.”

Henry II of France

It’s hardly state secret what you and Henry do behind closed doors, but it’s the moments you share in the open that you cherish the most. The light touches, the bright smiles, the way his eyes hold yours. He can’t tell you much. Your situation is complicated and fragile, but it never feels that way. And you never mind being the one to fill conversation, because he always listens with such intent. You wonder what kind of king he could have been if everyone had seen that side of him. But despite it all, you love the man he is now, because if everyone had seen him that way, you’d never have him.

Louis Condé

Lord Condé was never entitled like the rumors of the family assured. It was refreshing to meet a royal who didn’t just view everyone else as pawn pieces. In fact, the very concept of the game made his head spin. You grew up playing it with whoever lost a bet to you, so teaching Condé seemed an easy task—It wasn’t. But it was rather amusing. The poor man refused to place any of his pieces in the line of fire, instead preferring to spend the entirety of the game running away from your pieces. You couldn’t really blame him. You were the best at the game.

[katefiction]

Ten (short story)

by katefiction (Maria), 16th November 2020

Hi guys,

A managed to wrangle me into writing this. I haven’t written for William and Kate in over 6 years, so I’m a bit rusty. But I had an hour to kill and this is what came out. I’m not sure if I’ll regret this later but I didn’t leave this fandom on a high note and I kind of wanted to say thank you and put it all to bed.

Happy 10 years to all of you.

Love, Maria X

November 16 2020

I open the window, letting in the cold air. The November sky is grey, and a bird swoops over the house and disappears somewhere up in the clouds. 

The house is silent, a stark difference from this an hour ago when three children were screaming. Lunchboxes being stuffed into bags, shoes being shoved on, my husband frantically looking for his face mask. It was all part of my daily life these days.

I go around each of the bedrooms, opening the windows. I have to do it each morning to let the house breathe. William hates it, so this morning I waited for him to leave with the children before opening them all. Today, Louis wanted to go along for the ride, so I’m left alone. A rare moment that I’ve learnt to cherish over the past seven years.

I walk downstairs and make myself some tea and marmalade on toast, enjoying the luxury of not having Louis’ little hands trying to steal it. Switching on the TV, I turn the channel to BBC Breakfast to catch up with the news. It’s all COVID and more COVID this morning. 

I was told there was a story about William and me in the papers yesterday. The 500th retelling of our relationship. It was a regular occurrence that I was just about used to, but part of me still found it all quite bizarre. At least there was a reason behind it this time. They were celebrating something that happened 10 years ago today.

November 16 2010

I woke up in a sweat, having barely slept the night before. Today was the day. 

‘Are you ok?’ Will said groggily beside me.

‘Fine. Why?’ 

‘You’re breathing really hard, it’s like you’ve just run 10k’

‘Oh, I was having a bad dream’ I said, slowing down my breathing. 

He turned over placing his arm over me as I stared up at the ceiling. ‘What about?’

‘Well...we walked out in front of the cameras and suddenly my dress went see through. They just kept taking their photos. Then all of a sudden my dress was gone totally’

‘I wouldn’t mind that’ he smirked.

‘It’s not funny, what if I say something stupid? Or I trip over?’ I cringe at the thought of it.

‘That’s what I’m here for’ he said, pulling me into a hug. ‘Just be yourself’.

2020

William and Louis storm into the kitchen like a tornado, pulling me out of my memory.

Louis is screaming and Will looks a mixture of exhausted, annoyed and tired. 

‘What happened poppet?’ I say, scooping him up. 

‘He didn’t want the snack we took in the car, even though that’s the one he asked for before we left’ William answers. ‘He wants “the other one”, whatever that is’.

‘I want that one’ Louis says, pointing at my toast. There goes my breakfast then.

I set Louis down and hand him my toast while Will goes up the stairs. 

‘It’s so cold up here!’ he calls from the landing. ‘Do you have to open ALL the windows?!’

I sigh. And there goes my peace and quiet too. 

2010

‘Are you sure this dress is ok? It’s not too low cut?’ I asked, looking in the mirror.

The news was out and my phone was going crazy in the corner with calls and texts from people we couldn’t tell before today. Keeping my engagement a secret wasn’t something I ever thought I’d have to do.

‘It’s perfect’ Will said. ‘Matches perfectly with the ring’.

I twizzle it around my finger nervously. This was a huge thing, wearing this ring. It meant I would be compared to my late mother in law for the rest of my life. But more so, it meant Will trusted me implicitly. 

‘I just hope I don’t let you down’ I said, smoothing down my skirt nervously. How could I ever even begin to compare to the last woman who wore this ring?

Will appeared behind me, ‘you’ve never let me down and there’s no reason you would now’

Before I could say anything, there was a knock at the door.

‘Sir, Miss...are you ready?’

2020

‘Kate?’

‘Huh?’ I said absently.

‘I said are you ready?’ Will asked. ‘The kids have their coats on’.

‘Oh yeh, let’s go’, I jumped up from the sofa and pulled on my coat and wellies.

The children were back from school, and as I often did, I’d decided it was a good day for a walk around the grounds. The second lockdown hadn’t been as intense as the first, but I still craved being outside more than usual.

As the kids ran ahead of us, William and I walked in stride together and he stuck out his arm for me to link into his.

‘What’s been on your mind today?’ he asked. ‘You’ve had your head in the clouds all day’

‘Oh just thinking about stuff’ I said evasively.

‘What kind of stuff?’ he prodded. 

‘It’s ten years since we announced our engagement, I was just thinking about that day, how terrified and young I was’.

William smiles in the way he always does when he’s about to tease me, ‘remember how your hands were shaking when Arthur was photographing the ring?’

‘I was scared, ok!’ I say, whacking him on the arm.

‘You did amazingly, I was so proud of you that day’, he said softly.

I leant my head against his shoulder as we walked. ‘Do you ever wish we could go back? To that morning I mean, when we were just a normal couple with no other responsibilities’

‘Is this because Louis stole your toast this morning?’ he laughed. 

‘The world is just so much louder now. Sometimes I feel like I’ve been walking on eggshells for ten years. Trying to be the perfect wife, the perfect royal, the perfect mum.’ I blurt it all out before I’m too afraid to say it. ‘I love the kids and I wouldn’t change this life for anything, but sometimes I just miss the days when it was you and me, and no ring on my finger. It’s kind of like I got engaged to the whole country that day’.

‘They wish!’ Will says. ‘You’re allowed to feel like that without feeling guilty you know?’

‘I know’ I sigh. ‘I just…’

‘You just wish you were back there, before you had all of us to worry about’. William always knew how to finish my sentences.

I watched the children running, screaming as they chased each other, huge grins on their faces.

Charlotte runs up to me, holding something in her hand ‘I found a worm!’ she beams.

‘Well done princess!’ Will says bending down to look at it.

I think back to the woman I was ten years ago, walking into that room full of lights. Sweaty palms and scared to put a foot wrong, I had no idea of what was to come. 

But as I look at my family today, I know that I’d never go back, not really. I have everything I need right here.

2010

I gave my dress one more smoothing down, along with my hair.

There was a faint chatter in the room next door. William and I were being told who’s in there. Most of the names I’d never heard of, but would come to know. 

I take a deep breath and Will looks over to me.

‘I’m here’ he says. ‘We’re in this together’.

I smile and the doors open. William leads me into the room.

Before me is a wall of faces and cameras. A sight I will get used to seeing over the next decade. 

And like blinding stars, the flashes begin.

The end.

[liberty-barnes]

Without you, I’m just a sad song

Louis Tomlinson x Female!Reader 

Soulmate AU

Summary: In a world where song leads you to the one you belong with, Louis meets his in a peculiar manner.

Warnings: slight age gap (Louis's 5 years older), fluff fluff fluff, cursing

Word Count: 2.5k words

ERT: 10 minutes

A/N: My first 1D fic!!! I'm so excited about this, I've had this idea floating around in my head for ages and I wanna take advantage of the fact that I have inspo to write it!!

also, shoutout to @parkersbliss​ for making me fall in love with this band all over again, this wouldn’t be here without her so go show her some love, my baby deserves it!!

also number 2: i now have a 1D taglist so feel free to add yourself to it if you feel like it!

Masterlist || Taglist

For as long as the world can remember, the idea of soulmates and a soul bond has been a key point of society. Everyone is born with one or more soulmates, someone you were made to be with, destined to spend your life together, to find yourselves even when death tries to tear you apart. And all that is done through song.

The oldest of the pair can hear their counterpart's voice when they sing. It usually starts somewhere during your childhood, you hear them sing, like a little voice at the back of your head, something that's always with you and that'll help you find them when the time is right.

The youngest one, however, does not hear their soulmate's voice but instead has song lyrics written somewhere on their body, the first thing their partner will ever sing to them. 

You were born with lyrics on your ribcage, words that you've memorized, cherished, and obsessed over for the past twenty-three years. Logically, you knew that you were still young and you had all your chances to find the one that was destined for you. But after watching all your friends find love, move out, get somewhere with their lives, you started to think that you'd be alone forever. Most people found their soulmates before they turn 18, yet here you were at 23 years old, still nowhere closer to them.

"C'mon, it's a great opportunity!"

"I don't know, Gina..."

Your best friend rolled her eyes and put the last red velvet cupcake on the tray with a flourish, making her way to the front of the shop to put it in the display case while you kept decorating the donuts.

"(Y/n), you're an amazing singer, musician, and songwriter, this is the best thing that could possibly happen to you."

"Yeah, what about the fact that I have terrible stage fright, can't dance for the life of me, and let's not even mention the anxiety that comes with the possibility of failure."

She sat down on the stool next to you and took the piping bag out of your hands so she could hold them, forcing you to face her.

"(Y/n)?"

You kept your head down but hummed in acknowledgment.

"Can you look at me, please?"

Your eyes met the soft pools of blue that were hers.

"Stop doubting yourself. You're not made for this, babe. The bakery's my dream, I'm perfectly content with spending the rest of my days baking with my husband but that's not for you. You were made to sing, to be on a stage, perform. It's unfair to yourself and to the world to restrict yourself so much. You need to take a leap. Have faith."

You took a shuddering breath as your eyes filled with tears.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'm signing up now."

You took out your phone and started to fill out the application, heart beating a mile a minute.

This was really happening.

"Who knows, maybe one of the contestants will end up being your soulmate."

"Without you, I feel broke, like I'm half of a whole..."

Louis smiled softly as he blinked his eyes open. Every day for the past three years, he's woken up at seven in the morning to the sweet sound of his soulmate's voice. In the beginning, it was kind of annoying given that he was most definitely NOT a morning person, but he gradually got used to it and now enjoys it.

His soulmate must like singing a lot since he constantly has a song playing in the back of his head. It was especially bothersome when he was doing a show, oftentimes singing the wrong words because his soulmate was singing another song.

There's a video somewhere about him switching from singing Midnight Memories to Toxic almost flawlessly. Admittedly not his proudest moment.

He figured she was a songwriter since most of the songs she'd been singing for the past four years were songs he could not find on the internet, no matter how hard he searched. Not that it mattered, he knew them all by heart already, which was how he was able to start singing along with you.

He prepared his tea while humming softly to the song his soulmate was singing, quite happy that she'd started singing it on repeat since it was his favorite.

"Without you, I’m just a sad song."

He frowned when she suddenly stopped, still quite annoyed that even after all this time she hadn't figured out a way to finish it and he couldn't share his idea since he had no idea who she was. He took out his phone, answering a few messages from his fans, and watching a few of the things they made while he daydreamed.

At twenty-eight years old, he should have given up on the prospect of finding his soulmate. People that don't find their soulmates before twenty-five are pretty much hopeless. Sure, he remembered reading about that couple that found each other at 41 and 43 respectively (the oldest soulmates to ever find each other up to date), but those were rare occasions.

But as the hopeless romantic he was, he just couldn't give up. He convinced himself that it was because of his job, the fact that he was famous wouldn't allow for just a casual meet-cute like most other people, but he still dared to dream.

But today was a good day. It was the first day of X-Factor's new season and he was more excited than ever to meet new people, listen to some beautiful voices, and help young people conquer their dreams.

He quickly finished his tea and left the house so he could get there on time, already dreading the centuries they're gonna make him spend in hair and makeup and the millennia that it will take them to dress him.

"Are you nervous?"

"Is it that obvious?."

Georgina took in the way you were rocking on the balls of your feet, clenching your hands in a vague effort to ground yourself and the fact that you'd redone your hair at least five times in the last minute.

"A little."

Understatement of the century.

"Gina, what if they don't like me? What if they don't like my outfit? Or I fall because of the heels? Or my makeup's too much? Or my hair! What if they don't like my hair?"

She sat you down and took your hands in hers, taking exaggeratingly deep breaths so you'd follow her lead.

"Listen to me, your hair looks fine, your outfit's fine, your makeup's gorgeous, not surprising since I'm the one who did it, and you're not gonna fall because you walk in those heels like you belong on a runway and you know it. They're gonna judge you from your voice, and voice alone, and you have a gorgeous voice so I can guarantee you're gonna nail this."

You took a deep breath and nodded, repeating those words to yourself like a mantra.

It's gonna be fine.

They're gonna love you.

You're gonna nail this.

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n)?"

You looked up at the kind-looking gentleman in front of you.

"Yes, that's me."

"Follow me, please. You're next up."

Louis took an exhausted breath and drained the rest of his water, praying for the next one to be good. Obviously, he understood the importance of the 'entertainment acts', but the last three people had been shitty singers with an even worse attitude and he just needed a break.

"You okay?"

He turned towards Nicole and rolled his eyes.

"If I hear one more of these spoiled little brats I'm quitting."

"That's a valid point."

Cheryl agreed as well and even Simon nodded. These auditions were not going well. They all took a deep breath and straightened up in their chairs when the next contestant was announced, plastering fake smiles on their faces to keep the charade going.

Please, let them be good.

A girl with a bright smile and gorgeous red dress walked on stage, looking like the human personification of a puppy from how happy and excited she looked and only one thought filled his mind:

"Oh, fuck me."

Next to him, Nicole choked on her water, being the only one close enough to hear his whispered words.

Your heart felt like it could beat out of your chest at any given moment. You were on stage at the X-Factor, facing the judges, with a big audience excited to hear you sing.

"Hello."

Simon greeted you with a smile, which you took as a good sign.

"Hi!"

You waved excitedly and the crowd cheered, making you giggle.

Louis felt like he was dying.

The audience loved you, the girls were completely enraptured by you, Simon was smiling, and that little giggle made a freaking zoo erupt in his stomach (he was way past butterflies).

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

"My name's (Y/n) (Y/l/n)."

"And do you have a day job, (Y/n)?"

"I work in a bakery."

It would seem he has a type: cute puppy-like people who work in bakeries.

"And what are you gonna sing for us today?"

"I'm gonna sing an original song."

"Well best of luck to you."

More like best of luck to him, Louis's the one whose heart's beating way too fast to be considered healthy.

You thanked Simon and sat down at the piano, taking a deep breath through your nose and letting it out through your mouth before starting to play.

"I don't wanna die and fade away..."

The crowd's cheers fell on deaf ears as you started to play.

"I just wanna be someone..."

Only you and the piano existed. 

Only the words coming out of your mouth mattered.

"I just wanna be someone."

Louis's path to realization came in three steps.

First, he started to recognize the words.

"Dive and disappear without a trace, I just wanna be someone. Well, doesn't everyone?"

Then, the voice started to sound strangely familiar.

"And if you feel the great dividing, I wanna be the one you're guiding, cause I believe that you could lead the way..."

And finally, he noticed that the voice hammering at the bag of his head, getting louder by the second, matched the sound that was coming out from the singer's mouth.

"I just wanna be somebody to someone, oh. I wanna be somebody to someone, oh. I never had nobody and no road home, I wanna be somebody to someone..."

Your soul mark felt like it was burning against your ribs, but you ignored the searing pain in favor of continuing the song.

"And if the sun's upset and the sky grows cold..."

A little pain wasn't gonna make you give up on your lifelong dream.

"And if the clouds get heavy and start to fall..."

Everyone in the room watched with bated breath as the signs grew more and more obvious.

"I really need somebody to call my own..."

Your ribcage started to glow, slivers of light permeating the fabric and shining like a beacon. Louis's eyes gradually started to light up gold, shining like ambers in the sun.

Telltale signs that your soulmate was close by.

"I wanna be somebody to someone..."

Both of you were oblivious to it. Your attention solely on the keys in front of you, Louis's eyes locked onto your face.

"Someone to you..."

His eyes were so bright that they started to light up his face.

"Someone to you..."

Your ribs glowed so much that the words could practically be read.

"Someone to you..."

Everyone held their breath as the song came to an end.

"Someone to you..."

You finished and couldn't help but bring your hand to your ribcage, frowning when you watched it glow.

What the Hell is going on?

Louis couldn't stop himself from talking if his life depended on it.

"I finished your song."

You looked up at him and were taken aback by how bright his eyes looked.

"What?"

"The song you've been singing for the past few weeks. You couldn't finish it so I did."

He got up and joined you on stage, the room completely quiet. He started to play the melody to the last chorus, nudging you so you'd sing.

"Without you, I feel broke, like I'm half of a whole. Without you, I've got no hand to hold. Without you, I feel torn like a sail from a storm. Without you, I'm just a sad song."

Your hand remained on your ribcage as it started to burn even brighter.

"You're the perfect melody, the only harmony I wanna hear."

You felt your heart stop when he sang.

"You're my favorite part of me, with you standing next to me I've got nothing to fear."

His hands came to a stop, as did the burning, and his eyes went back to a gorgeous blue

You couldn't believe that this man in front of you was your soulmate, but most importantly...

"I can't believe I have those words branded on my ribs and I didn't think of using them."

Pause.

"That's what you're thinking about right now?"

"Well I've been obsessing over it for weeks!"

"Fair point."

You were silent for a while longer until Nicole (bless her heart) decided to break the tension.

"Hey! Look at the bright side: your wish might just come true!"

Louis's head dropped onto the piano just as you spoke up.

"What wish?"

"Well as soon as you came out, he whispered 'fuck me'."

You turned to him and smirked while for what was most likely the first time in his life, Louis blushed.

"I mean, I was thinking of taking you out to dinner first, but I'm good with getting right to the good part."

"Fuck you."

"'S that an insult or a promise?"

"Both."

You waited in Louis's dressing room while they finished filming. Thankfully you were one of the last ones so you didn't have to wait long.

Unsurprisingly, the four of them had said yes, and no matter how many times Gina told you it was because of your voice and not the fact that you were Louis's soulmate, the win still felt bittersweet to you.

The door to the dressing room opened and a tired-looking Louis came in. 

"Hey..."

"Hey back..."

He sat down next to you on the couch, as oblivious as you concerning the evolution of your relationship.

"I hope you know they didn't say yes cause you're my soulmate."

You chanced a look at him through your lashes.

"I'm serious. You're a proper good singer. You have a beautiful voice and you're an amazing songwriter. You belong in this industry."

You smiled and inched your hand towards his.

"Thanks."

He intertwined your fingers, a matching smile on his face.

"My pleasure."

You took advantage of the next silence to really take him in. Every nook, every cranny, every layer of his deep blue eyes.

"Would it be too forward of me to ask you out to dinner?"

"You're about an hour too late, I already asked you out."

He chuckled and unconsciously leaned closer to you.

"Okay, then would it be too forward of me to ask for a kiss?"

"Not at all."

Your smile was blinding as his face got closer, and when he kissed you, for the first time in twenty-three years, you felt complete.

Songs used: Someone to you by BANNERS, Sad Song by We The Kings and Elena Coats

so here it is! I hope you guys liked it! Don’t forhet to comment, reblog, and/or like if you feel like it!

-Love, Libby

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[thefangirlingbarista]

standing knee deep in your love

A TTCOFM Hat Story

Word Count: 1032 Catch Up Here

Natalie liked for things to be in neatly labeled and organized boxes. This was how she kept her classroom from being cluttered. This was how she organized her closet and all her holiday decorations. It was how she kept up with all of her important papers and memories she wanted to cherish forever. It was also how she compartmentalized nearly every aspect of her life. 

Her family was in a box. Kit had a box all her own, because she was so much more than just a friend, but wasn’t blood. Niall, Mack, and even Louis and Liam were in a box. She was never quite sure where to put Harry, and it never failed that whatever box she placed him in, he somehow escaped. 

She thought that might be why she felt so hostile towards him. Her life was easy and simple and organized, but then during her third year of college he came prancing in like Bambi when he first got his damn antlers. And he never left. 

She knew that he’s not bad. He’s in fact quite a good person. She saw it in the way he took care of Niall or when he took care of Kit when Niall wasn’t around. She even saw it when he took care of her, on the rare occurrence she allowed this to happen. But he had a smile that made you forget why you were mad just five seconds ago. He had hands that made you wish he would hold onto you and never let go. And his voice was one she could listen to without ever growing restless. And all of those things were what made him so dangerous. Unpredictable. Her own personal archnemesis. 

They began their friendship, if you can call it that, with bickering. Snarking and snapping at each other with ease, and it never once transformed to anything more or less than that. Even five years later, they could barely be in a room together without one of them – usually her – starting an argument. 

She didn't think it was her fault, though. It was his, because his love was the ocean. Beautiful and calming from a distance, but the unknown was scary the deeper you go. And when a storm came, the waves and current didn’t have favorites. They destroyed anything in their path. She didn’t want to be destroyed. She quite liked being whole all on her own without the storms of the unknown.

And then somehow they became a team when their two best friends made the most idiotic decision of their lives. Harry and her knew that they needed to step up, put aside their differences if only for a while, and be the anchors their friends needed. She never expected for Harry to somehow become her anchor, too. And when they started getting along, started talking more than bickering, Nat began to rebuild her walls. But no matter how quickly she laid the bricks, Harry came and dismantled them twice as fast. It wasn’t long before her chest was laid bare, and the ocean was lapping at the foot of her heart. 

She was afraid the tide of his love would be too strong and pull her away, but he calmed the storms and lulled her into contentment. She felt safe sitting on his shores and letting his love wash her clean. The waves never threatened to pull her under, but instead gently prodded her to be brave one tiny step at a time. 

When he took her hand in his, she was reminded how he grounded her in a way no one else ever could. She remembered how easily he can set a wildfire ablaze in her chest, but never allowed it to burn her to ash. When she looked and saw his green eyes already looking at her, the fire started in her toes and spread across her skin, up her stomach, threatening to envelop her whole, but then he smiled and it made itself at home in her chest. 

He’s the wind that threatened to drift her soul away, and the earth that softly caught her when she inevitably fell. 

He spun her out, only to pull her back against his chest. His dimples were clear as day when she looked up at him. 

“You said you loved me today.” 

She expected his smile to falter and the dimples to hide, but they stayed ever present. “I did.” 

She untangled their fingers only to wrap her arms around him, “It was quite out of the blue.” 

His eyes danced over her face, “You think? It was a little past due for me.” 

She rested her head against his chest and breathed him in. 

“I meant it, you know. I couldn’t love you more if I tried.” 

She pressed a kiss against his chest, over his heart. “You weren’t mad that I haven’t said it back.” 

It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. She saw it in the way he still continued to look at her after he said that four letter word she had dreaded most of her life. She saw it in the way he took her to the park afterward, bought her a hotdog, and never let go of her hand. 

“Of course not.” 

She stayed quiet, listening to the steady beat of his heart, and thinking of the way he calmed the ever growing restlessness underneath her skin. She thought about the way he never pushed her, never made her feel unworthy or beneath him. He lifted her up. He encouraged her. He was patient with her. He loved her. He loved her. He loved her.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

“I love you.” 

She felt his arms tighten around her and his chuckle reverberating in his chest. Happiness swelled up in her and threatened to spill over. 

“You’re something else, Natalie Thompson.”

She thought that maybe Harry never stayed in one box because he had too much love, too much life to fit into just one. And somehow, along the way, she found him in every crevice, every corner of every box. 

Later, when he hunched over to kiss her goodnight, she smiled against his lips.

A/N: I promised this yesterday, but Tumblr had other ideas. It somehow deleted the entire thing save for the title after it posted it from the queue, and I was out of town visiting a friend for my birthday so... long story short. life happened and i’m just now getting around to posting it. sorry, guys. 

i hope yall enjoyed this little insight to Nat and Harry. I certainly enjoyed writing it. And, remember, one more chapter and then TTCOFM will officially be complete. So bittersweet. 

comments / concerns / cries of outrage

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and being courted by Louis de Pointe du Lac

(Not my gifs)(Requested by anonymous) (I might make poly headcanons for him and Lestat: though I might have already done so I honestly don’t remember)

- You met Louis when Lestat was trying to please him and get him to stay with him. You were Claudia’s sister so when you came home to find a blonde vampire who was also a complete stranger sweeping your sister into his arms you were more than a little terrified and confused. 

- He decided he could kill two birds with one stone; get Louis to stay because he was responsible for Claudia being turned and get him to fall for you. Long story short you were taken to his castle and turned before Claudia was.

- Once Claudia had wrapped her arms around Louis Lestat informed him that he had another surprise and he brought you out.

 “She is all yours my friend.” 

- You could hear a pin drop as you entered; Louis could only think about how beautiful you were and that because of him you would be forced to live the same hell he was living in at that very moment. 

- You had expected him to be beautiful; after seeing Lestat you assumed all vampires were attractive but he was nothing like you imagined. He was angelic, godlike even and you could feel yourself already being drawn to him.

- Lestat was very pleased when he saw the looks you were giving each other but soon became distressed when Louis avoided you. He had gotten that ungrateful whiner a larger coffin that was now going to go to waste because he was too obsessed with being miserable. 

- You had fallen for him the moment you saw him but after time you began to think Louis hated you. Lestat reassured you it wasn’t true but you found yourself not wanting to be in the house with them knowing the man you who you cared so deeply for didn’t even want to look at you. 

- You packed your bags and kissed Claudia goodbye, disappearing as Louis and Lestat were gone. You were sure they would take good care of her and she seemed far more attached to them then she was with you. 

- To say Lestat was furious when they arrived home would be the understatement of the century. Claudia really hadn’t put up much of a fight when he demanded she tell him where you went.

- You hadn’t gotten far when Lestat came and angrily dragged you back, muttering about the predicament he had on his hands. He sat you down once you were “home” and asked if you wanted him to turn someone for you so that you would stay; he had grown quite attached to you himself. 

- The two of you were shocked when Louis shouted out a harsh “No!” from his spot in the corner of the room. You quickly turned to look at him, watching as he stalked over to you and pulled you along with him as he made his way to his room. Once he closed the door he pushed you against it and kissed you.

- You still to this day aren’t sure exactly what came over him but you think he had gotten jealous even thinking about you wanting another person. It’s the only explanation that really makes sense to you. 

 “I thought you hated me.”

 “I tried.”

- You spent the night making up for lost time and spent the day in his coffin  with Claudia sneaking in alongside you in the early evening. 

- You were much like Claudia, sleeping for a few hours in your own coffin before  carefully creeping into his where he would wrap you up tightly in his arms. You cherished the quiet moments you spent huddled up with him waiting for the sun to disappear below the horizon.  

- He’s very protective of you. After what happened to his wife and child along with him knowing just how evil Lestat could be at times he most definitely does not like leaving you alone.

- He’s not extremely jealous or possessive but would rather you stay by his side and keep away from humans or other vampires you may come across. 

- You’re going to be spoiled; anything you could ever dream of would be yours the instant you implied that you were even slightly interested in it. 

- There’s constant affection coming from him. He hasn’t been in a proper relationship in centuries and definitely misses the feel of it. On that note ~ he has been alone with Lestat for that very long amount of time and that calls for a great buildup of sexual tension and repressed urges.

- He loves watching you with Claudia or whenever you’re doing anything domestic. It has an odd soothing effect on him that he just can’t explain.

- You rarely fight but whenever it would happen it would be a very rough and emotion filled scene. You would give him the silent treatment and avoid him which would rightfully make him fairly upset and extremely tense especially when he knows you’re spending more time with Lestat.

- Sometimes you would creep into Lestats room when the sun is up; finding it hard to spend so long in solitude. Ever since you were turned you hadn’t really spent a night alone and before you and Louis got together you would stay with Lestat.

- Claudia would be the reason you spoke to him again. She would angrily march up to you and drag you behind her tiny body until you were in the same room as him. He would stand up immediately and wrap his arms around you as he apologized, you couldn’t help yourself as you practically melted in his arms. 

- None of your arguments are about anything truly serious so it isn’t hard to forgive him. And if you’re ever the one needing to apologize after a fight just stand between his legs and cup his face in your hands while you give him your sincere apology, he’ll forgive you instantly it’s like magic. He can never really stay mad at you.

- If you ever fight with Lestat Louis finds it kind of amusing to watch; the two of you bickering is quite the sight to see. But Lestat is a sadist and enjoys watching you and Louis argue for an entirely different reason. 

- Him playing with your hair as you lay your head on his shoulder.

- His hand is always on your waist or holding your hand whenever you are out of the house. He wants to show everyone that he’s courting you and that you belong to him.

- He’s almost always the perfect gentleman. He always opens doors for you and lends you his hand when helping you into your carriage (I guess).

- There’s a very specific scene in my mind with him holding your hand as you walk down the steps of your carriage all the while he stares down a group of men who are ogling you. He’s just watching them closely before you call for his attention once more and he leads you to wherever you were going. (I hope this makes sense lol)

- There’s a lot of buildup before he kisses you ( just think of that scene with Armand in the movie when you probably thought they were about to kiss; love that scene).

- Really passionate kisses and spontaneous groping. He loves pinning you to things as well

- He’s a very honest person; he also can’t keep things from you for very long before he explodes from guilt. He’s an extremely guilty person in general; it’s just a fact.

- He’s incredibly strong and is always picking you up and spinning you around. He loves doing it when you’re dancing together usually as Claudia plays the piano.

- Him calling you darling, dear, my love, and sugar after a few centuries pass.

- Traveling with him and Claudia when the deed is done. 

- He tries to keep you away from Lestat for the most part; Lestat is extremely jealous of this and kisses you in front of him just to be petty and spiteful. A threesome will ensue at some point we all know it.Your boyfriend is his boyfriend and you are to be his as well. There is just no way Lestat would have you be just Louis’s and not his too.

- His eyes seem to constantly be on you which is honestly flattering considering how perfect he is.  

- Rubbing his shoulders as you sit behind him on a sofa. You usually do it to keep him calm/calm him down while Lestat annoys him or tries to argue. 

- He would feel an urge to kill anyone who hurts you even if they just accidentally bump into you,same goes for anyone who disrespects you; it’s usually because Lestats like a little devil on his shoulder.

- Comforting him when he gets upset about his wife and child. You’re always able to brighten him up and make him less melancholy.

- He’ll be telling you how much of a monster he is and how you should really not stay with him as he pulls you closer and snuggles into you.

- He loves laying on any squishy part of you. 

- There’s so many apologies for having you turned.

 “Louis if I wasn’t turned I wouldn’t have met you and that would have been the true tragedy.”

- He’s such a stressed fucking individual like just hold him in your arms and calm him down before he snaps in half. Although he can honestly be such a drama queen.

 “I love you.”

 “Say it again?”

 “I love you.”

 “…One more time please.”

- Kissing your neck but not to be an asshole like Lestat would.

- Him making sure Lestat doesn’t overstep any boundaries or manipulate you.

- He reassures you that he will only and always love you after he feeds because we can all see how sensual they look when they suck someones blood. 

 “You are mine right my love.”

 “Of course my dear.”

- Occasionally you wake up to roses scattered around your coffin. You’ll find him sitting on one of the many couches waiting for you to walk in with one of the softest smiles you’ve ever seen on his face. 

- Anything you ask; anything at all, he will do for you.

- Holding hands as you watch the sunrise in movies.

- He always comforts you. It doesn’t matter if you’re only slightly upset or extremely depressed; he’s always going to be there for you.

- Tight Hugs.

- Braiding or just playing with his hair, he pretends he doesn’t like it but he loves the feel of your hands in his hair.

- Hearing stories from when he was young; especially if you get together now a days rather than way back then. (We all have our own different fantasies)

- Him laying out on the balcony rail as you stand beside him; occasionally leaning over him and planting a kiss on his lips. It never fails to make him smile.

- Small smirks whenever you kiss his cheek.

- So many ‘I love you’s’ you’re drowning in love. As well as compliments all the time.

- It’s quite clear that you’re not going to be able to leave anytime soon. His little undead heart couldn’t take the loss.

“I need you my love.”

- You would stay together; just you, him and Claudia living out the rest of your eternal lives like husband and wife.

[cinful-stories]

Nearly There (Louis x OC)

This was made as a short-story request for @the-random-kitten using her OC Anna-Belle. I hope you enjoy! No warnings, just some cute Louis fluff for those who need it. 

The rights for the character creation and design of Anna-Belle belong to @the-random-kitten, all other characters are property of Cybird. 

I was getting sick of these dinners. Steamed asparagus and a mound of butterfly steak every time. My teeth sank into the gummy steak. They wrestled with it inside of my mouth, struggling to grind the piece into smaller bites. Cold juice oozed into my throat, and I had to chase it down with wine to stop the gagging. 

Raw meat. It was abnormally pink. Gooey, wiggly, squishy. I could practically hear the cow mooing from deep within my stomach. 

“My, my, isn’t this delicious, Anna-Belle?” Giles cooed from his perch beside me.

My fork pecked at the skin of the meat, peeling it back from the wet innards like a temporary tattoo. 

“Yes, but mine could’ve been cooked a little longer.” 

I looked up. Giles was glaring at me, shifting his orbs to the King of Laurelia seated at the head of the table, gluttonously feasting on the meat as if it were his last meal.

“Princess, you will do well to watch your manners,” the chamberlain warned. “I am sure the King’s staff worked hard to prepare this for us.” 

A wave of heat washed over my cheeks. Members of Laurelia’s royal cooking staff were lingering around the outskirts of the room, slinking into the shadows. Their faces were crestfallen. 

“Oh--no. I didn’t mean to sound rude, I just don’t like my steak rare. It’s just a personal preference!”

“Don’t be ignorant, Anna-Belle. You should know that lying makes you look like a fool.”

I was shocked. Louis had not met my injured gaze as he spoke. His eyes lulled over his plate while his fingers twirled his steak knife like a baton. I dug my brown orbs into his cheek that was turned away from me. I looked like a dejected child, having been properly ignored by the icy duke. 

Louis and I had grown closer over the past few months. He scheduled additional dancing lessons during the week so that we could escape the palace and venture into town, far from reminders of responsibility. He took me to see the Wysterian Ballet Co.’s productions whenever I had time and would pay for every expense without hesitation. Those countless acts of kindness had sent me tumbling head over heels for him, and without his knowledge, I had begun declining more and more requests from interested suitors who sought my hand in marriage. There was only one person I wanted as my prince consort. 

But the very idea of it seemed pretty ridiculous in that moment. Tears were about to spill onto my face. I rose from my seat. The screeching of the chair being thrown behind me brought every pair of eyes in the room on me, including Louis’s. 

“Forgive me, Your Majesty,” I bowed, “but I’ll be going to my room for the remainder of the evening. I’m feeling pretty sick.”

Despite Giles’s protests and the king’s bewildered expression, I hurriedly left the dining hall and darted toward one of the available guest bedrooms. I flung open the door to the balcony and sank to the ground, knees close to my chest. I had royally screwed up this time. 

Upon hearing of another dinner invite from the king, I begged Giles to let me fake an illness. There was a mound of documents on my desk that needed to be sorted through, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait before the mound grew into a mountain; however, Giles refused, and I offered a comprise. I figured that if I had to waste time in Laurelia that it would be time better spent with good company. I asked Giles to let Louis come as my guest to the dinner, and he agreed. 

It was my fault. Without thinking, I assumed Louis would want to come along. He always seemed to tolerate meetings with nobility in the past, but I hadn’t bothered to check if his schedule was clear. I didn’t even ask if he wanted to go. I told him he was going.

“What did I tell you about frowning so much?”

“Louis!”

Standing above me was the elegant duke, blonde locks flowing in the late afternoon breeze. He swept across the balcony and lowered himself to sit in front of me. He copied my position, hugging those lengthy legs to his torso and resting his chin on his knees. 

“You’re acting pretty recklessly, you know that?” he said coolly. His eyes found a spot in the sky and glued to it. 

I was taken aback. “Me? What was that snarky comment you made back there?” My voice was shrill. It wasn’t anger that had taken over me but embarrassment from being in his presence. I could not let him know how hurt I was to be criticized by him--how much I actually cared about his opinion and dreamt of his affection.

He shrugged his shoulders. “It was the truth, was it not?” he said. “We’ve had many conversations about how a crucial part of being a ruler is taking responsibility for not only your actions but for the words that come out of your mouth. If you disliked the steak, then you should’ve just said so and not made any excuses for it.”

I made a move to speak, but nothing came out. He was right, as usual, but there was a hint of bitterness hiding behind his blank expression. I was not used to seeing this much restraint from him, and I missed his smile. 

“Louis, are you angry with me because I forced you to come here?” I asked. “If that’s true, then I want to say that I’m sorry.” 

I could not bring myself to look at him, and I felt those orbs digging through my soul. It was already hard enough admitting that I was the cause of his irritation, but feeling his focused gaze on me made it worse. My cheeks drained of color, and I squeezed the fabric of my navy skirt until my knuckles were as pale as the moon above. 

Louis paused, opening his mouth and shutting it again. A shudder ran up and down his spine, and I couldn’t tell if it was from the winter chill or from anger.

He let out a lengthy sigh, and a puff of smoke spilled out of his mouth. “No, I’m not,” he slowly replied, choosing his words carefully. “I’m upset because you accepted yet another invitation from that lousy, pompous king.”

“Excuse me?” I heard what he had said, but the loud beating of my heart made it difficult to process. 

A flush appeared on his cheeks, spreading from the tip of his nose to the shell of his ears. He looked away from me then.  

“He’s clearly attracted to you, Anna-Belle.” 

I snorted with laughter, trying to cover up the nervousness in my voice. My teeth were chattering and I wriggled uncomfortably. The very thought of the king of Laurelia, a man more than twenty-years older and the recipient of two divorces, wanting to court me made me nauseous, much like the steak.

“Y-you’re lying to me. There’s no way--”

“--Think about it, Anna-Belle. Why else would he ask you to come to these extravagant dinners almost every week? If he just enjoyed your company as a political ally, then why would he go through all of the trouble of buying you lavish gifts and showing you the finest things Laurelia can offer?” 

The words smacked me across the jaw, and I stared up at him, mouth open. Louis reached out and gently closed it with cold fingers. “You’re going to catch flies, Princess,” he murmured, a faint smile gracing his lips. 

I was lost in thought, thinking back to the several trips I had made to this country. It was true that I thought it was a little odd that the king always requested that I came alone, aside from Giles, and it couldn’t have been a coincidence that the one time I brought a guest along, one as handsome and dignified as Louis, that he served a grotesque meal to us. The quick comments about my beauty and my personality had gone unnoticed before now. My thoughts had been so occupied with getting back home to Wysteria to see Louis that I had ignored all of the signs. 

“How come I was never made aware of this?” I cried angrily. “Is this the reason why Giles keeps forcing me to go to these awful dinners?”

There was sympathy stirring in Louis’s eyes. He reached out a hand, sliding it into my hair and massaging my scalp affectionately. “He wants you to marry into a royal family to ensure a noble bloodline to rule Wysteria. It’s selfish of him to impose that on you, especially if he’s trying to make you marry that middle-aged oaf.”

The jealousy in Louis’s voice bubbled up in his throat. His eyes flickered across my face, glowing with bitterness. I sensed his envy, and it made my heart flutter, but I tried to stop it. I couldn’t show that I hoped he was jealous because of me. I refused to give my hopes up like that. 

“Then w-who should I marry, Louis?” I asked hopefully.

“Anna-Belle,” Louis whispered, his voice becoming more delicate. His fingers swept a strand of red hair behind my ear, “you should be with someone who will always cherish you. Someone who can guide you in your position of power but also be someone who respects you as their queen. Someone who doesn’t want to buy your affection with elaborate meals and disgusting steak.” He chuckled then before sobering up. “You need someone who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable with you. Someone who is close to you...very close to you.”

Louis’s face drew dangerously close to mine, and a blush broke out across my skin like a rash. Sweat gathered on my brow and my heart began to soar. 

“Uh, L-Louis, er, what exactly are you doing?” I stammered as his hand cupped my cheek. He crawled forward, parting my legs so that he sat between them. He cornered me against the railing of the balcony and pressed my spine into the cold metal. 

“This.” His lips were inches from my own. I could smell lavender and mint leaves on his skin and I wanted more of it. I leaned forward to close the gap. 

“Oh, thank heavens, Princess!”

The two of us leapt back from each other, scrambling to opposite ends of the balcony. The king had entered the room, his face stitched up into a drooping grin from the amount of wine he had consumed. He sauntered forward. It was obvious that he hadn’t noticed our closeness. 

“Duke Howard, thank you for checking up on her. I can see you care for her wellbeing almost as much as I do,” he said, releasing a rolling, bellowing laugh from his gut. He extended a hand to me, and after a hesitant glance at Louis, I accepted it. “Come this way, Anna-Belle. You need some fresh air so that you don’t feel ill any more. I’d like to show you around Laurelia’s gardens under starlight.”

Louis stayed behind, sitting alone on the balcony. As I took my walk with the king, I would often glance up to find the duke watching over me.

[charitabledirection]

September 17th, 2018: September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month which brings attention to the problem of childhood cancer, the challenges of treating cancer in children, the underfunded research in childhood cancer, and all the issues associated with a child battling this disease, including grief and bereavement.

A Sibling’s Wish is a UK based charity that was founded after the loss of a child to childhood cancer. The charity was founded in August of 2016 by Sarah, the mom of Harvey Hext a young boy who passed away on November 29th, 2015, following a long battle with stage 4 high-risk neuroblastoma.

Harvey became well known not only in the UK but around the world for his friendship with One Direction Louis Tomlinson and his mom Johannah Deakin. Johannah was the first to meet Harvey and his family at a Believe in Magic event in 2014. Harvey had been diagnosed with stage 4 high-risk neuroblastoma at the age of 3 in 2010. His parents had noticed that the previously active 3 years old had started having problems walking, was complaining of a tummy ache, and had diarrhea. Following a doctor’s visit, Harvey was referred to a specialist in Bristol who gave the family the devastating news after blood tests, CT scans, and biopsy of a tumor. The Hext family also found out that Harvey was an extremely rare case because there are very few children in the world with Down Syndrome that are diagnosed with neuroblastoma. Following the diagnosis, Harvey underwent surgery, chemotherapy, and radiation and was declared in remission. Unfortunately, in October 2014, cancer returned and Harvey had to undergo another surgery to remove a tumor in his chest. Other tumors found in his abdomen though were deemed too dangerous to operate on.

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When Johannah Deakin met Harvey and his family at the Believe in Magic event, she was so moved by his story that she immediately told Louis. After hearing about Harvey, Louis decided to do as much as he could to support Harvey and his family and to give them precious memories to hold on to. Louis sponsored a vacation to Disney World in Paris, VIP treatment at a One Direction concert, and numerous personal gifts to Harvey and his family. When in August 2015 Johannah and Louis organized and sponsored the Believe in Magic Cinderella Ball for sick children, they treated Harvey and his entire family to VIP treatment. During the many months that Harvey’s and Louis’ families were in touch, they developed true friendships. When Harvey passed away, Louis posted the tweet “Fly high buddy” showing a picture of Harvey with his huge smile.

During Harvey’s battle with neuroblastoma, the family had set up the Harvey Hext Appeal, a fund that through donations, helped pay for the costly cancer treatments for Harvey. The remaining of the funds that the family did not use, were donated to Solving Kids Cancer, after the passing of Harvey (read our article here).

After the passing of her beloved Harvey, Sarah had the idea of setting up A Sibling’s Wish to provide comfort and support to siblings of children that pass away. The idea came to Sarah from personal experience. The Hext indeed have other two children, Spenser who is Harvey’s twin brother, and older Olivia. Sarah realized early on that bereaved siblings have indeed very little support. Parents spend so much of their energy attending the sick child and dealing with their own loss after they pass away that they have little time and energy to dedicate to their other children. Hospitals and end of life care teams agree that there is definitively a huge void when it comes to supporting children experiencing the loss of a sibling.

The idea behind A Sibling’s Wish is simple: create beautiful and personalized memory boxes where the bereaved child can store photographs, notes, and other memories of their lost sibling. The memory box can help challenge some of the feelings of loss and can be cherished for years to come. Sarah adds to the donation also a stuffed bear named Harvey which has a hidden pouch where the bereaved child can store the most precious memory of their sibling.

From its inception, A Sibling’s Wish has made huge strides and it has become so active recently that it has needed to move its activities from the Hext’s family home to an office space. Louis Tomlinson has continued to support the charity from behind the scenes including donating a brand new laptop in the early days of the charity.

Some of the achievements of A Sibling’s Wish and its founder Sarah Hext over the last two years are:

In 2016, soon after becoming officially registered as a charity,  A Sibling’s Wish became an official partner charity of #UKCharityWeek. #UKCharityWeek is a week during which donations and fundraising are encouraged to help UK charities. This week usually falls within the first two weeks of December, when people are more willing to donate since the holidays are just around the corner.

 Also in 2016, A Sibling’s Wish became affiliated with Together for Short Lives, a UK based charity which speaks out for children and young people who are expected to have a short life.

In 2017, A Sibling’s Wish became Peace and Coffee’s charity of the year. Peace and Coffee, a company that distributes organic coffee and tea, selects a handful of charities each year to be voted the charity of the year.  As the 2017 winner, A Sibling’s Wish received all proceeds donated between 04 August 2017 and 03 August 2018.

In October 2017, Sarah Hext attended the Women of the Year Lunch. This is an event that celebrates and awards women that would not be otherwise recognized for their work. In attendance was also Camilla Duchess of Cornwall.

A few days ago A Sibling’s Wish celebrated its 300th memory box. In only 2 years from the day they became a registered charity A Sibling’s Wish has distributed these many memory boxes all over the UK. Indeed Children’s Hospice Southwest, one of the first entities to express interest in the memory boxes, estimated that they would need approximately 60 boxes per year.

A Sibling’s Wish is doing important work to fill a void in the support of families that experience the loss of children to childhood cancer and other diseases or accidents. We expect them to continue their amazing work and we hope they will expand even more with their work to reach all the families in need in the UK.

We have talked about Harvey and Sarah numerous other times. To learn more about them and the work that A Sibling’s Wish does, check out our articles dated 10/27/17, 7/30/17,  11/30/16, 9/8/16, 7/19/16, and 5/30/16. Visit also their official website to learn more about how you can help.

Pictures are credited to A Sibling’s Wish website, FaceBook page, and Twitter account.

The charity A Sibling's Wish: turning grief into support for bereaved siblings @asiblingswish September 17th, 2018: September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month which brings attention to the problem of childhood cancer, the challenges of treating cancer in children, the underfunded research in childhood cancer, and all the issues associated with a child battling this disease, including grief and bereavement.

[h4rr3h]

ohio is for lovers, chapter two harry and evan and everyone else

“You look like someone punched you in the vagina.”

“Thanks, Niall.” Harry snaps.

Sunday, March 25, 2018

The Mission House, Green Room

169 Bleecker Street, New York, NY

“You look like someone punched you in the vagina.”

 “Thanks, Niall.” Harry snaps.

 He shrugs and sit next to Harry in the backstage green room of the Mission House.

 “But himmmm?” Harry whines, for like, the fortieth time.

 It takes Niall five deep breaths to choke down what he wishes he could say to Harry and comes up with a rare supportive comment, “for what it’s worth I don’t see her going through with it.”

 “What makes you think that?” Louis interjects, “he’s literally one of the nicest people I’ve met, he’s going to be a doctor for Christ’s sake. He drives an Audi A5 Coupe, he volunteers at the animal shelters -”

 “Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t aware you had a crush on him,” Harry snips as Niall faux snores.

 Louis scoffs, “whatever man, she’d be stupid not to. Out of all of us, he’s the only one who actually has his shit together.”

 He wasn’t wrong.

 “Anyways,” Harry starts, “I think tonight is a good night to play the new song.”

 Niall raises an eyebrow, “you’re like four beers in, I don’t think you’re ready to play anything new in your state, Mate.”

 “You forgot the two tequila shots,” Louis reminds.

 Harry’s hazy, and completely drunk. He always plays better a little buzzed, he was more daring, and a little less uptight. But completely fucking blitzed? Well this is uncharted territory.

 “I think it’ll be fine,” he slurs.

 The longer he stands upright the more the room starts to spin. He swears he didn’t feel this drunk five minutes ago. It doesn’t help that he hasn’t eaten since this morning’s pancakes at ten o’clock.  

 Evan is fucking engaged to the Valium. In some ways he could believe it and in some ways he couldn’t. Louis was unfortunately right. On paper, the dude was perfect. He’d checked off all of Evan’s boxes long ago and what was even worse was that they had history. They dated on and off throughout high school and after a year apart their freshman year of college, they’d been inseparable ever since. Sure, Harry had Jordan. And he did love her in a way. What way that was, he wasn’t quite sure of yet. He couldn’t help but feel something was missing between him and Evan; some vital ‘aha!’ moment that was just six years too late in hitting her. That someday she’d wake up and feel the same way he did.

 Now, to be clear, Harry is not lovesick. It ebbs and flows inside of him. He’d go weeks, even a month or two without having that tugging ache on his heart of wanting what he couldn’t have. Then he’d have a few beers and whine to the boys about it and have a shag or twelve with Jordan to set himself straight again. Before anything, Evan was his best friend. Besides Louis, of course. He cherished her friendship above everything and it made him feel sick every time he wanted her in that way.

 “We’re not doing anything new tonight,” Louis reasons, “now let’s get some water and carbohydrates into you before you get up there and blow chunks, alright?”

 “Did someone say carbohydrates?” Evan chimes from the doorway, wielding two large platters of food.

 “Alright, we’ve got...mozzarella sticks and potato skins, take your pick -”

 Harry dives in the second the platters hit the table, shoveling food into his mouth, “thanks Ev.”

 Evan tilts her head towards the door, Niall and Louis catch on but Harry is too busy stuffing his face to see her subtly kicking the other boys out of the room. She shuts the door behind them when they walk out.

 “You alright?” She asks when Harry finally comes up for air.

 Harry feigns confusion, “yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 Evan puts her hand on her hip and gives him the look, the one she gives every so often when she sees through his bullshit, and Harry knows it.

 “Well for starters, you’re drunk. You never get drunk before a gig.”

 “Nerves,” he replies, shoving a whole mozzarella stick in his mouth.

 She rolls her eyes and takes another step closer to him. Evan reaches out, holding his face between her palms, “I know you, you’re upset over something. You can’t lie to me. I always call you on your bullshit.”

 She looked at him and it was like that first night when they met when could have have kissed her the first time and maybe then they wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d perfected resisting the urge over the years as the fates had presented him many opportunities. Her eyes were watery like they were when she was holding back from crying, he’d seen it time and time again, and he hated himself for bringing her an ounce of pain like that.

 “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” Harry manages.

 Evan pulls him in, wrapping her arms around his middle. Harry’s resistant at first, he’s drunk and daring and feeling all too many emotions at once. He can’t say anything, and just stands there holding his arms loosely around her.

 “I’m not going anywhere. I already told Huck I’m not moving until after the wedding. You still have me.”

 If only he did, he thinks.

 Still held in an embrace, he could feel the wetness of Evan’s tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt when she pushes her face into the crook of his neck. For as long as he’d known Evan Bosco, he’d only seen her actually cry twice; once, when their cat Gretchen died, and the second, at the end of Titanic. Evan was an level headed person; logical. She wasn’t directed by emotions or feelings, she was precise in her actions and in her life and well, if she thought marrying Jacob-fucking-Huckabee was a good idea, then it probably was.

 “Are you just sure you’re ready for your last name to be Huckabee?” Harry mumbles into her ear, his chest vibrating with a quick chuckle.

 Evan snorts and gives him one last squeeze before letting go. She wipes her eyes and sniffs, trying to hide her tear streaked cheeks.

 “You should probably get out there, everyone’s waiting for you.”

 Harry shrugs, “they can wait, you’re more important.”

 Evan approaches him again, sliding her hand to the back of his head, twisting the short curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers. She lets her thumb slide against his cheek  and jaw and bottom lip and Harry thinks for a second that she may actually kiss him. His heart is racing so loud he’s damn well sure she can hear it loud and clear. He notes something in her eyes, is it hesitation? You goddamn wish, he thinks.

 Stupid girl. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

  Evan sits around the booth with the rest of the gang, minus the three bandmates. They’ve crammed themselves into their usual spot. Sharna’s elbow is digging into her hip while Huck’s arm is wrapped protectively around her middle. Polly and Jordan are bickering over who’s more politically correct on this week’s latest cause. There’s more space now than there will be later when the eight of them are stuffed into the U-shaped booth that hugs the bar table. Empties already line the far edge of the table’s surface and there’s a mix of half watered down drinks and shot glasses in clusters that clang every time someone bumps the table.

 Huck is drunk and grabby. He’s subtle, though. He’ll press a kiss below an ear and then into the smallest exposed part of collar bone. His hands will dive between Evan’s thighs and gently squeeze; ‘just warming my hands’, he’ll say. His breath smells like the three whisky sours he’s downed in the last hour and a half. Glassy eyed, Huck whispers in Evan’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “you excited?” He asks, toying with the ring on her left hand.

 She smiles, “yeah,” comes out in barely a whisper.

 Evan plants a kiss on his jawline, and wiggles out of his grip, “I’m gonna go get some food for the boys backstage, I’ll be back in a jiff,” she says before giving him another peck on the cheek.

 She orders Harry’s two favorite bar foods; mozzarella sticks and potato skins. Jojo behind the counter adds it to the gang’s running tab that they’ve had since Evan’s twenty-first birthday nearly four years ago. She shutters to think of what the total of it is, but wipes it easily from her mind. She looks down at her hand and watches the diamond on her ring finger twinkle under the dim bar lighting.

 “Damn, girl!” Jojo reaches across the bar and grabs Evan’s hand. “Huckabee splurged. Congrats!”

 Evan grins, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “thanks!”

 “If you need anyone to bartend the wedding, I’m your girl,” she winks, “don’t even have to pay me. Just make sure Huckleberry has some hot groomsmen for me to feast on.”

 “I’ll see if he’s got any hot med school friends for you,” Evan teases.

 “Looooord almighty, a doctah?” Jojo emphasizes her southern twang and starts fanning herself with a stack of paper napkins.

 Evan clutches her stomach laughing, an annoyed patron at the other end of the counter bangs on its mahogany top for Jojo’s attention, “sorry, have to take care of the createns,” she mutters under her breath, and within a half second musters up a cheesy customer service smile, “what can I get for you, darlin’?”

 She can’t help but feel the ring on her finger weigh her down like a dead weight. Evan blames it on the sensation of having something new (and a very heavy something, at that) on a finger that had previously been bare for twenty four years. She twists the metal back and forth, occupying herself by watching people in the packed bar. People watching was a common pastime of hers. She longed to understand the meaning of people and why they do what they do and why they don’t do what they don’t do. As Niall would always tell her ‘it’s just not that deep, Mate’ but she liked to think that human existence could be boiled down to more than just wants and needs.

 The bar always seemed hazy with the strings of  globe bulb lights that lined the ceiling in perfect tight zig-zags. Evan liked the dim lighting because it hid her bar burn when she would drink a little too much. It also made you feel a certain way; warm, happy, like nothing could hurt you here because everything and everyone glowed and things that glowed couldn’t hurt you.

 “Food’s done!” Jojo drops the two platters onto the bartop, snapping Evan out of her momentary daydream.

 “Thanks Jo! Have a round with us if you can?”

 She glares to the line of people waiting, “I don’t think tonight’s the night, but enjoy one for me,” she winks.

 The walk from the bar counter to the sorry excuse for the Mission House’s green room is short. In reality the green room used to be a freezer, but when the place nearly burned down ten years ago the owners converted it into a green room for local bands they hired to play. Harry, Louis and Niall were the top bill on Sunday nights. They had a small following with their band and Evan knew Harry wished he could do more with it than he was. He by no means had the dreams of becoming a rock star of any sort, but anything was better than teaching third graders how to play Hot Cross Buns on the recorder.

 “Did someone say carbohydrates?” She rings, displaying the trays in her hand, “alright we’ve got mozzarella sticks, potato skins, take your pick -”

 Harry lands face first into the platters before she’s had a second to finish. He’s drunk, she knows that at the very least but she wants to know why. He takes gigs much too seriously to get drunk. She spots at least four empty beer bottles while Louis and Niall are still nursing their first. She catches a glance at his bloodshot eyes when he mumbles a ‘thanks Ev’ at her.

 With a nudge of her head, the other boys take her hint and leave her to it with Harry. She knows he’d lie through his teeth to the boys about what was going on in his head but he never could get a damn thing past Evan, and she knew that very well.

 “You alright?” She asks gently.

 There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, “yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

 Evan puts a hand on her hip and fixates her eyes on his, locking with them for a second and giving an empathetic sigh, “well for starters, you’re drunk. You never get drunk before a gig.”

 He breaks the eye contact. “Nerves,” he says while gulping down another deep fried piece of cheese.

 Evan knows what she’s doing well. Harry wears his heart on his sleeve and it’s never too hard to tell when he’s upset about something. When she rolls her eyes at him, she makes sure to do it nice and slowly so he can see. She closes the space between them in a single step and reaches out, forcing his face between her palms, “I know you, you’re upset over something. You can’t lie to me. I always call you on your bullshit.”

 He gives her a look she hasn’t seen him give in a very, very long time. On the night they met, in fact. It happens so quick she thinks she may have been making it up in her head. Whatever it was, Evan can’t quite place it. Tears start to form in the corners of her eyes. While marrying Huck meant spending the rest of her life with the man she loved, she couldn’t help but feel her heart break when that same notion also meant leaving behind the other man she loved.

 “I’m just going to miss you, is all,” he mutters.

 Evan tugs on his shirt to pull him into her. She can feel every muscle in his body tense up when they touch, as if he’s holding something back from her. Her arms slither under his and she hugs him so tight she’s worried he’ll puke up all the greasy bar food he’s just shoved down his throat at warp speed. Harry doesn’t budge, and his arms lay loosely around her form.

 “I’m not going anywhere. I already told Huck I’m not moving until after the wedding. You still have me.”

 Forever and ever and ever and ever, she thinks.

 Evan presses her face into his shoulder and lets herself cry into him. She prays he can’t feel her body shake against him as she lets out the silent sobs. Evan wasn’t much of a cryer, but when she did…

 “Are you just sure you’re ready for your last name to Huckabee?” Harry’s chuckle tickles her, and his voice is so light and fragile in a way she’s never heard before.

 She snorts, welcoming the lightheartedness and gives Harry one last hug before finally letting go. She wipes her eyes and cheeks with the back of her hand and sniffs away the saltiness, “you should probably get out there, everyone’s waiting for you.”

 “They can wait, you’re more important.”

 It’s like all the air’s been sucked out of the room and Evan pauses for a half moment before coming back to Harry. She slides her hands behind his head and toys with the slop of curls that lie there, twirling them around her index finger, that damn ring weighing her down. Evan’s hands slide to the sides of his face, grazing her thumb across his cheek, tracing the sharpness of his clenched jaw, and finally a swipe to his bottom lip.

 Stupid boy. Can you feel it? Can you feel it?

  The gig is great as usual. Despite Harry being drunker than a skunk, the boys managed to pull off one hell of a show and Harry at least had the decency to start puking after they were finished.

 “Water and bread for you, buddy.” Louis pats his back.

 Harry is about a half step away from unconsciousness, his face buried in the crook of his arm that is spread across the table. Jordan is leaning on him, not too far behind in her state. Evan mentally prepares herself for having to listen to that all night long, neither of them were very...quiet, so to speak. Everyone is drunk and happy again and the moment in the green room is long gone from Harry and Evan’s minds.

 At least for the time being.

 “Hey did you invite your dad tonight?” Sharna slurs, “nope, wait. I’mma text him.”

 She struggles like a child to unlock her phone and whines, dropping it to the table when it doesn’t work.

 “Can you please not get that excited over my father? It’s gross.”

 “Your dad is a fucking DILF and you know it,” her friend pips, sipping from the little black straw in her AMF.

 Evan gags, “shut the fuck upppppp,” she groans, covering her ears.

 The rest of the table is laughing hysterically, except Niall. This pisses Sharna off. She’s funny. What she said was funny. Everyone should be laughing.

 Niall never laughs at Sharna’s jokes. She should know this by now.

 “So Niall, how’s the novel coming?” She asks with a touch of poison in her voice.

 “It’s great,” he starts, “I’ve already killed your character off.”

 Sharna responds with a middle finger while she sucks up the last of her drink, the straw making a slurping sound as it struggles against the ice to get the last bit of liquid in the bottom of her empty glass.

 Polly is asleep leaned up against Louis. Evan can hear her little snores and see the tiny pool of drool collecting on her boyfriend’s shirt. He gulps the last of his pint  before patting her on the cheek lightly to wake her up. Polly grumbles and curls herself into him more, “up and at ‘em Little One. You’ve got class bright and early and I have to be up in four hours to make some macchiatos for overworked White Collars.”

 She groans and finally obliges and manages to stand up long enough to jump on Louis’ back. They both wave as they head for the door. Evan chuckles as she watches them leave and turns to give Huck a little peck on the neck.

 “I love you,” he whispers low enough for just the table to hear, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

 He’s drunk and kind of going cross eyed when he says it, but Evan knows it’s sincere, “I love you too,” she responds, and gives him a solid kiss on the lips.

 The bile in Harry’s throat threatens round two.

 “I think it’s time for us to go,” Harry mentions, “you coming home tonight?” He motions to Evan.

 Huck is glassy eyed and she knows he’ll pass out the second he hits the sack, take up half the mattress, and not move until morning. She was already feeling the effects of a hangover, and didn’t feel like adding no sleep to that menu.

 “Yeah, I’ll get this one a cab home and meet you back at the apartment.”

 She nudges her fiance and he slowly and sloppily slides his way out of the booth, hanging onto Evan for dear life. Or in this case, for his balance, and the two stumble to the sidewalk where she hails him a cab with the snap of her fingers. With the help of the taxi driver, and a hefty tip, she sees him off and starts the very short walk back to the apartment.

 The air is chilly but not freezing. Her bare legs prick with tiny goosebumps from her ankles to her thighs and she can’t help but think about Harry and what happened before the gig. They have these moments, every now and again, seconds between moments where she thinks things may be different, where one of them would actually have the gaul to say how they really feel. But things like that don’t happen for people like Evan Bosco. So she settles for marrying the brain surgeon and hopes one day she’ll get over that missing piece in her chest.

 Meanwhile, Harry stays inside with Jordan, who at this point, is totally asleep.  He gently nurses two more shots and a Rum and Coke before ordering an Uber for his girlfriend. She’ll end up waking up at 6am puking her brains out and he didn’t feel like spending his morning holding back her hair. Harry wanted to go home and drink until he couldn’t remember his name and try and forget this day ever happened.

 Apartment 11A is dark by the time Harry reaches the door. He looks around for signs of Evan, and sees her boots tipped over on the mat next to the entry and a half drank glass of water on the kitchen counter. He stumbles to the bar cart awkwardly shoved in a small corner of the kitchen and pulls out the fullest bottle of alcohol there is (which happens to be tequila) and brings it to bed with him.

 Monday, March 26, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 It’s no surprise when Harry wakes up with a blinding headache. It’s already half past ten, which means he’s missed his first lesson at work. He makes up a half assed apology via text to his boss and lies about an aunt who passed away, then rolls back over for another hour or two until he’s woken up by Evan’s hurling noises.

 Down the hall in their shared bathroom, Evan pukes out the contents of last night’s celebrations. She may have helped herself to a half bottle of wine when she’d gotten home, tempted by it sitting on the counter when she tried to responsibly chug a glass of water and an aspirin before going to bed. She hears Harry’s footsteps coming up the hallway when another bout of vomit spills out of her.

“Don’t come in here,” she moans, her voice broken and hoarse, “I’m disgusting.”

 “I got you a glass of water!” He reasons.

 “....Fine.”

 Harry opens the door and walks slowly into the bathroom. Not for her sake, but for his, the slower he moves, the less dizzy his hangover makes him feel.

 Evan snaches the glass from his hand and gulps it down, “thanks,” she says, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “why aren’t you at work?”

 “Called out,” he replies, taking the glass back and a sip for himself, “why aren’t you at work?”

 She glares, “called out.”

 Harry lets out a breathy laugh, “c’mon, I’ll make you a bacon, egg and cheese sandwich on a bagel.”

 Evan clutches her chest dramatically, “music to my ears!”

 Despite that one time he set the stove on fire, Harry was actually a halfway decent cook (at least in his mind). The two ate their breakfasts at the table with two cups of coffee each, respectively. Neither wanted to bring up their talk last night. They’d both felt it, that second between a moment when they feel brave, as if they could break through some sort of invisible wall of bullshit that the both of them put up and finally break it down.

 Harry, mostly for the sake of his hangover, didn’t want to bring it up for a variety of reasons. He was clearly drunk, as Evan already knew at that point, and hoped that would be enough to keep her quiet. Pride was another, for obvious reasons. But she’d pulled him in first and she cried. He looked to his shoulder for a moment and saw the black smudge of her mascara still on his shirt. It was all too much for him to think about at this hour with this bad of a headache. He wanted to finish his meal and crawl back into bed and sleep for about another week straight.

 Did she feel it too? He thinks. Probably not because she’s still got the ring on her finger and he watches her play with it over and over again like she’s adjusting a fucking noose around her neck while they talk about today’s weather and how winter seems to be finally over. She couldn’t have felt it too, Evan’s a bold woman, she goes for things that she wants and if she had wanted Harry in that second then she would have wanted him in all the other seconds too. And he can’t wait for the day he can finally wake up in the morning and not have Evan Bosco on his mind.

 He felt nothing, not a damn thing, she thinks as she takes the last bite of her breakfast sandwich. Also, she thinks that her ring is too loose because it slides too easily between her knuckle and the middle joint in her finger. Was it this heavy on her hand last night too? She felt the cold metal slip again as she balls up the napkin and tosses it on her plate. Evan’s lucky if she’s had at least two hours of sleep from the night. She knew she shouldn’t have mixed the red wine with liquor from the bar but desperate times call for desperate measures.

 “So what are you up to today?” Harry asks.

 “Well, I have an article due by the end of the day tomorrow, but I think I’ll check in with my dad and see if he wants to go out for dinner or something. I haven’t seen him in a couple weeks.”

 As the Millennial Voice column expert in her father’s travel magazine, Evan was tasked with writing a monthly column on the hot spots in different cities that twenty-somethings would enjoy. But, due to the lack of budgeting, this usually just consisted of Google research rather than actual travel.

 “I miss Papa Bosco. I haven’t heard any of his -ism’s lately,” Harry chuckles.

 Evan Bosco Sr., who not only was fluent in Klingon, was also a walking, talking fortune cookie of life advise. Most of which he had taken out on his daughter’s friends, “oh I’m sure he’ll have plenty saved up for you next time you see him.”

 “I love a man who can make me cry about my life choices,” Harry smirks.

 Evan rolls her eyes, “or lack thereof. Any big plans for you today?” She asks.

 He shrugs, “I’ll probably just loaf around and eat my weight in Chinese food, maybe jerk off in the shower - “

 “You’re deplorable,” Evan snides, tossing her crumpled napkin at him.

 Harry sips his coffee, feeling the chip on the edge of his monogrammed mug slice the soft flesh of his inner lip. He winces a bit, and licks off the blood.

 Monday, March 26, 2018

987 Amsterdam Ave, Apartment 5B, New York, NY

 Evan busies herself with unpacking the bags of groceries she’d collected for tonight’s dinner. Her father wasn’t home yet, and she was sure due to the large amounts of missed calls and texts that he’d have a lecture waiting for her. Almost twenty-five years old and Evan was still subjected to her father’s lectures. She knows he did it out of love, but sometimes, she just wished he’d let her fuck up without there having to be a lesson about it afterwards.

 More often these days, Evan found herself missing their old apartment. It was modest, for the city. The walls were white and covered in exposed brick and held framed photos of maps and photography of all the places they’d explored together. It was a little cleaner, with Evan gone. No empty glasses left on the coffee table, just to the bottom left of the coaster, leaving yet another ring in the table’s surface. And no matter how many times Evan Sr. had to yell at his daughter about it, she never learned.

 She missed the smell of the bakery across the street wafting through their windows in the morning, making the entire place smell like warm, buttery croissants. She missed their neighbors across the hall with their hyperactive Yorkie, Chico, who never seemed to stop yipping. Hell, Evan even missed the way her socks always slid against the hardwood floors and she’d bust her ass every so often when she would pivit just right. She felt as if she had a semi permanent bruise on her hip from falling over the years.

 But most of all, she missed coming home to her father. Who, despite still having social anxiety at age forty eight and mumbled more than he actually spoke, was the most loving creature on the face of the planet. She checks the time, there’s still about another ten minutes before he would be walking in the front door, tossing his messenger bag on the floor, and reaching into the fridge for a beer. Just one, though. Always one.

 Throughout their time travelling during her childhood, Evan found out that the greatest thing about it weren’t the sights, or the culture, or the tourist traps. It was the food. Between the two of them, they’d created what they dubbed “The Holy Grail” of recipes from their travels. Transcribed into a notebook with crunchy pages and stuck together with food splatter,  shoved into the cabinet above the fridge, Evan knew she could make any meal in this book and immediately be back on her father’s good side.

 Tonight it was Paella, the recipe was given to them by the Chef of a little hole in the wall place in València. It was her father’s absolute favorite meal and he swore he could never get it just right like Evan could.

 “Surprise!” Evan declares as her father walks in the door, both confused but also relieved to see his daughter.

 Evan Bosco Sr. drops his bag at the door and slides past his daughter to stalk into the kitchen for his one beer, “you weren’t at work today,” he mutters.

 “Yes...well...it’s been an interesting twenty four hours. Plus I slept in and -”

 It takes her father approximately three and a half seconds to recognize the symptoms and before she can finish her  sentence, he interjects, “you’re hungover.”

 Her father cracks a smile, probably the first one all day. Evan Sr. wouldn’t say that he hated his job, he just hated how draining it was, and sometimes it took smelling Paella cooking in the kitchen to bring you back down to Earth again.

 “I am, but,” Evan holds up her left hand to show off the ring, “I’m also engaged.”

 Evan Sr. presses his lips together and tilts his head to the left. He gulps once before processing the diamond on her finger, “I’m happy for you, sweetheart.”

 Evan recognizes that look on her father’s face. It was the same one he had when she came home from school one time in seventh grade and told him it was now her life’s dream to drop out of middle school and join the Peace Corps. It was first a flash of confusion, followed up by mild disgust and then finished off with the sudden realization that he had to pretend to support his only daughter in a terrible decision.

 “Are you?” She quizzes.

 Evan Sr. nods, “sure am! Just been a long day.”

 He takes a long swig of his beer and places it onto the counter with a shaky hand. The green bottle double clinks onto the counter.

 “How’s Harry taking it?” He asked, stirring the simmering food in the pan.

 Evan grabs the wooden spoon from his hand, “fine, why?”

 Her father takes another choking gulp of his beer. He’s halfway done in just the two gulps he’s taken so far.

 “Just curious,” he pips, putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulders, “he is losing his best friend, after all.”

 Evan Bosco Sr. of Columbus, Ohio wanted nothing more than for his only daughter to marry the man of her dreams. Evan Sr. knew that Jacob Huckabee was not going to be this man. He knew this for a while, and while he always wanted to support his daughter in her decisions, couldn’t help but feel slighted by the latest development in her relationship status. Slighted, not only because had Jacob not considered his fiancee's father’s opinion in the matter of their union, but also because he was the most absolutely boring person on the face the the planet. This, all coming from a man who studied the courtship rituals of insect mating in college.

 For fun.

 “What is the male obsession with thinking they’re going to lose someone who gets married?!” Evan groans, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 “I know,” he pats her on the back, “it’ll just be an adjustment for him. I’m sure he’s going to have to find a new roommate.”

 “Why don’t the two of you move in together since you’re like, so obsessed with each other,” Evan rolls her eyes.

 Her father grins, “Harry will always have a place in this household.”

 “Yeah,” she scoffs, “I swear if you had it your way I’d be marrying him,”

 It felt a little too toxic to say and her father bit his tongue and fought back what he wanted to say. Recalling a time not all that long ago, when Harry was in a vulnerable state and confessed all that he felt for Evan Sr.’s daughter and he let himself reflect for a moment to a time in his life when he knew what it felt like to be absolutely helpless in love with someone.

 Being a single father was not the life that Evan Bosco Sr. had planned for himself. He’d met his forever girl (or so he’d imagined) at age eighteen. They had dreamed of a life together traveling the world with each other. However, Elizabeth Highwater, or Just Lizzie, as Evan Sr. had called her through their nine year courtship, had never wanted children. So after a few years of marriage and a few spins around the globe Evan Sr. had suggested settling down somewhere and starting a family. It was six months after that conversation that Lizzie had found herself pregnant with a child she didn’t really want. She stuck around at first, playing doting wife and mother. But there had been a new man that offered her an out and a new life, the life a Highwater was expected to have. And all of this did not involve being the wife of Evan Bosco Sr.

 So she left. One day on a chilly November night with nothing more than a packed suitcase and a note left behind to her husband and only daughter. Evan Sr. lied to his daughter about her mother’s whereabouts until age twenty-three, twenty years after she’d left. He had told her that her mother was really a mermaid, and that she had to go back to the ocean for a little while, but she’d eventually be back. It seemed stupid, but in a way it helped him heal as well.

 But Elizabeth Highwater did not come back. At least not until her new husband had called Evan up a year or so ago to tell her that her mother had died. Evan remembers feeling a whole lot of nothing and then a whole lot of something seemingly all at once. She always harbored resentment for the woman like an anchor inside of her. She hated her mother for leaving her, and even more for breaking her father’s heart. She saw it it in the crinkles in the corners of his eyes and in the way the world seemed to always rest on his shoulders.

 Evan had flown out to her parent’s hometown of Columbus, Ohio and met her step father for the first time and saw the house they’d lived in together and the evidence of her mother’s life without her child over the last twenty years. It was a good life, by the looks of it; big house but not too big, nice car, a boat trailered in the backyard. Evan’s time in Ohio had been summed up by something that Niall had dubbed the “Ohio Incident”.

 But we’ll get to that later.

 “As long as you’re happy, Pumpkin, so am I.”

 Evan Sr. feigns a smile, pressing his lips together so tightly they turn white.

 She takes a step closer to her father and places a single hand on his shoulder, “dad, you’re a terrible liar.”

 He raises a brow and finishes off his beer before walking away into the living room.

 Evan paces around the kitchen, occupying herself with setting their places at the kitchen island that took the place of a dining room table. She pours a glass of the wine she had brought over and sits on the counter while the last of their dinner cooks.

 Why did he seem surprised? She thinks to herself. Aren’t boyfriend’s supposed to ask permission from the father of their girlfriend for their hand in marriage? Perhaps she’s thinking too much about it. Perhaps Huck had mentioned it in passing and her father had forgotten, or chosen to forget about it. Huck knew how close Evan was to her father, he wouldn’t overlook such a tradition.

 Would he?

 Monday, March 26, 2018

185 Bleecker Street, Apartment 11A, New York, NY

 “Jordan for the last time I’m not going to your fucking parent’s house for the weekend! I have too much to do here. Just please drop it,” Harry throws himself onto the couch while his girlfriend stomps around the edges of the living room, circling him like prey.

 They’d gotten into another argument, shocker, at first in the early afternoon when Jordan had called Harry complaining as to why he didn’t spend the night with her, nursing her through her vomit inducing hangover. By the time she’d laid it all into him it was half past five and he was starting to get hungry. Knowing Evan would be at her father’s, he invited her over to order some take away and could maybe make out with her. If for, at the very least, to get her to shut the fuck up.

 “I just don’t understand you! One second you’re here and the next I feel like you’re on the other side of the world. I can’t keep doing this - “

 “Stop, stop, stop.”

 Harry leaps up and puts a palm over Jordan’s mouth, “for the love of God, stop complicating things. I just really don’t have the time to go upstate this weekend!”

 He removes his hand slowly.

 “It’s much more than that, Harry,” there’s a flicker in her wet eyes. She’s about to cry. Shit. “I can’t do this right now. I think we need to have some time apart, And I’m not talking our usual time apart. I’m thinking this may have to be permanent.”

 She sits on the edge of the couch and Harry follows. She wipes just below her right eye with the back of her hand and sniffs, “I see all these happy couples and I always wonder why we can’t be them. I know you just think I’m a brat that nags at you all the time,” she’s crying more now and Harry starts to feel terribly, “but I do love you, and I do want a future with you. But if you can’t even spend a weekend with my family...for something I told you about months ago and suddenly you don’t have time? That’s not normal Harry.”

 Harry stares at his hands, “I don’t want to hurt you, Jordy.”

 “Yeah well, you’re a little late for that,” she replies, and the sting hits him square in the chest, “I just want to be happy. I want to celebrate each other. I want what Evan and Jake have! I want to get married one day and spend the rest of my life with someone who loves me just as much as I love them.”

 That was all it took, and Harry didn’t feel so bad about her tears anymore. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t her fault. How was she supposed to her her boyfriend was in love with his best friend? He resented her statement. The wound was still fresh and the hangover in trying to forget the whole thing was still lingering.

 “I don’t think you can be that for me right now, Harry.” Jordan says.

 She stands and kisses the top of his head, “I’ll let myself out.”

 Harry doesn’t reply to anything. It takes him ten minutes after the front door shuts to take a deep breath again. Usually when this happened, he knows Jordan would be back soon; in a couple days, a week, a month tops. But something about this time feels different.

 It’s not long after Jordan leaves that Evan arrives back home. She smells like wine and Spanish food and her father’s cologne. She can sense the tension in his face the moment she lays eyes on him.

 “Everything alright?” She questions.

 “I feel like you’re asking me that a lot lately.”

 “It’s because you’re incredibly transparent. I know you better than you know yourself, you know,” she grins.

 Harry falls silent and looks to the floor, “Jordan dumped me again.”

 Evan fails to act surprised, “please remind me how this is new news?” She says, hanging up her coat and kicking off her boots.

 Harry huffs and stands, picking her boots up off the floor and places them on the shoe rack next to the door, “she said she wants to be with someone who loves her just as much as she loves them.”

 There’s attitude in his voice and Evan can sense it, “yeah, still failing to see the big shocker here, Harriet. What do you expect from the poor girl? You guys break up like every other week for some stupid shit and then get back together without ever working anything out. Of course she’s going to realize you don’t love her back.”

 Harry’s breath catches for a moment, “I do love her.”

 Evan rolls her eyes.

 “Okay maybe not like that, in that way,” Harry defends, “but I do have love for her…I’m just not in love with her.”

 “Ding ding we have a winner! Only took you how long to figure it out?”

 Harry lets out a breathy laugh and swings an arm around Evan, “yeah, yeah. So how did Papa Bosco take your big engagement news?”

 She pauses before answering, “strangely. I don’t know. It’s like he wanted to say something but didn’t. But not something like ‘oh I think this is a terrible idea’ but like he, I don’t know, like he’s waiting for me to figure something out.”

 Oh if she only knew.

HELLOOOOOO!!!! Thank you again everyone for the kind words of encouragement and how you’re feeling about this fic! Please let me know! Just a note for the next update, it will come a day late as the 5th I’m throwing a party for my mom’s 60th birthday and I won’t be able to post, so the next chapter will arrive on May 6th.

For any questions/comments/concerns, please do not hesitate to take advantage of my ask!