#ask sweetcreatureinthedark

[matildashoney]

I also found it strange that you opened the entire story with basically spiking their ending and showing that they’re going to get married ... like isn’t that what the story should’ve been building towards? Now I don’t feel compelled to read because I know they’ll get married so what’s the point if I already know the ending ?

The whole vibe of ‘I feel alive’ has personally been ruined for me knowing they’re getting married so quickly. I wanted them to meet and hate each other and then we’d watch it progress throughout the updates. But the opening scene telling us they’re engaged? Ruins all of it.

I was so looking forward to ‘I feel alive’ and I’ve been checked your blog ever since I read the description ages back. Sad to say the whole story is sort of unnecessary knowing they’re engaged before I even get to know them.

The point of enemies to lovers is to show them hating each other before being in love .... did you not understand that? I’m so disappointed - I wanted to love this story bc it seemed so compelling

since i’m assuming you’re the same anon over and over again, i’m going to lump all the messages together and answer everything at once. 

firstly, i don’t owe you an explanation for how i choose to write my story. it’s mine. it’s a very personal story, one that involves a disorder i’ve dealt with firsthand, fears that i have, traumas that i have experienced. i’m putting a lot out there by writing this, something that i didn’t do with loving you’s the antidote, and the fact that you have the nerve to write me a fucking story telling me why i’m writing my story wrong is absurd. it’s absolutely insane.

secondly, the point of opening with knowing they’re getting married is so that you, as a reader, are dumbfounded at how caroline can want to marry someone as ignorant as harry is at the beginning of the story. the story is building to why it happens. that’s the entirety of it. 

thirdly, i’m writing in a flashback sequence. that’s how it’s written, seeing where they are now and flashing back to how it was before. the story is still compelling; you have a main character with a disorder that is rarely written about, much less expanded upon in the way that i’m going about it, traumas are being written about, a love story with an unlikely pairing; that is the definition of compelling.

fourthly, why even take the time to write so many messages and critiques when you could write it better than i could? that’s what you’re saying in your messages, “you’re writing it wrong, caitlin.” fine, write it for me, then. write it for me and post it and get little to no feedback and get messages like these, where people are telling you anonymously how you’re doing something all wrong. it’s absolutely ridiculous and rude and unnecessary that you’ve done this.

lastly, it’s my story! i’m writing it the way i want to! writing isn’t linear, it isn’t all the same. that’s why it’s fun. all stories are written differently and aren’t meant to be the same, especially when we’re writing the same tropes over and over again. if you want to be a writer and write an enemies to lovers, then you can write yours the way you want to. i’ll write mine how i’d like.

thank you so much, anon, for ruining my night and my motivation to write a story that i really loved. i’d appreciate it if you unfollowed me and didn’t read my stories from now on. i don’t want you reading my content if this is how you’re going to react.

you can kindly fuck off.

[matildashoney]

do you have blog recs? idc what they post just funny people

i’m sure i’m going to miss many of my mutuals, but i’ll try to link the first friends that come to mind! mainly, the people i reblog from are who i think are the best humans and the funniest - which is essentially everyone i follow - and they’d be worth a follow if you want to have new content on your dash!

@hunflowers, @harryfeatgaga, @trulymadlysydney, @farmlesbians, @hotgirlnicholas, @serendipitystyles, @harrystylescherry, @harrystylesgotmefuckedup, @tobeso-narrie, @finelineonvinyl, @sunflowersupremacy, @imsogoldeen, @ilovegolden, @harryinsweats​, @finestoflines​, @meetmeinfleetwood​, @stellarboystyles​, @theharriediaries​!

[matildashoney]

Obviously you’ve never seen an asshole bc it’s a lot further down the crack that what we’re seeing. Like a lot further. Closer to the nut sack, my dear.

my dear, you don’t have to ruin everyone’s fun. i’m just here, having a good time, watching this website go in flames.

[matildashoney]

Day at the beach in the French Riviera or LA???

Once a year, right around Jude’s birthday in the middle of August, Amelie and Harry take a mini-holiday to the French Riviera with the children, a two or three-day getaway to the beach to unwind from the stresses of school and work and have some quality time. Hensley is older now, an astounding - Harry still can’t believe it - eight years old, and is much more excited to spend time with her family in her favourite place in the world. Although Stevie is nearing four, she still hasn’t gotten over her aversion to large crowds and strangers, so Harry and Amelie make the conscious decision to find secluded areas in town to take her and the two. Jude, their little prince - mon petit prince, as their mama says - is an opinionated three year old, always having something to say about everything, and Harry argues that he’s more like his wife than ever before.

“Jude, arrêtez!” Hensley shouts frustratedly, watching as the toddler begins to unfold the sand from around their father’s hands. “On est censé enterrer, Papa."

Jude, quit it! We’re supposed to bury, Daddy.

“No!” Jude pouts, folding his arms across his chest and sitting angrily in the sand. “Papa, on y va.” Jude’s hands grapple for Harry’s, his eyes searching for assistance from him and his mother who is laying on the blanket beneath the umbrella, their middle daughter sleeping soundly on her chest, exhausted from the sun and the sand and the ocean. “Papa.”

“Une fois que Hensley aura fini, Judey.”

Once Hensley’s done, Judey.

Jude sighs, his hands setting in the sand to assist in standing on his feet, stalking over to where Amelie is sitting with his sister and holding out his hands to have the sand rubbed off. “Mama, mains, s'il vous plaît.”

Mama, hands, please.

Amelie gently pats baby powder on his hands, taking a towel and wiping the sand away from his skin. Her smile is warm as he stares at her through hooded eyes, the exhaustion on his face evident. His wispy curls sit atop his head, blonde by the sunlight and contrasting to the deep brown eyes that are different from his sisters. “Et voilà, bébé.”

There you go, baby.

“Papa ne joue pas avec moi.”

Daddy doesn’t play with me. 

“Papa joue avec H, en ce moment même, bébé.”

Daddy is playing with H, right now, baby.

Jude’s arms wrap tightly around Amelie’s shoulders, his face tucked into her neck the way his father does, his tiny fingers toying with the hair at the nape of her neck, breathing in the ocean air and letting the crashing waves soothe him. “Tu es fatigué, Jude? Tu veux faire une sieste?”

Are you tired, Jude? Do you want to nap?

Jude nods into his mother’s neck, swinging his leg over her thigh and laying his cheek on her chest, his skin slightly red with the sweltering heat and sticky with sweat. His breath is hot against her skin, heavy and slow with each breath as he slowly drifts into dreams with his sister on his mother’s other thigh. 

Amelie loves this, the snuggles, the pure love that comes from their children. One day they won’t want this anymore, to be snuggled during their nap time, to have their mother’s fingers drawing shapes on their backs and kissing their forehead. One day they won’t need her to do this anymore, and the day that happens will break her heart. Amelie chooses to ignore it, to pretend that day will never come, even though it’s already beginning with Hensley and the independence that is growing everyday inside their spunky baby girl.

Hensley looks at Amelie with a smile perched on her lips, “Look, Mama! Papa’s all covered up!”

“Maybe cover a little bit higher on his neck, baby,” Amelie teases, smirking and trying to hide a giggle when Harry shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“Mama is trying to get you to cover my mouth, Hen.”

“Mama!” Hensley squeaks, smacking her hands in the sand and mumbling an apology as the sand lands on Harry’s lips. “Mama, that’s not very nice to Papa. Say sorry.”

“S’il vous plaît.”

“Yeah, Mama,” Harry joins in, leaning slightly upward and appreciating the view that is his wife in his favourite bathing suit combination - a two piece with blue and white stripes that is strikingly similar to the shirt that he got married in nearly ten years ago - and the two toddlers sleeping on her chest. “That’s not very nice of you.”

“My apologies,” Amelie hums, rolling her eyes when Harry snorts a laugh and Hensley stands with her floaties on her arms and goes to the edge of the water where she’s allowed to rinse her hands. “Jude wanted to snuggle with you. That’s why he was asking for you.”

Harry’s heart melts in his chest, his hand cracking out from beneath the sand and gently rubbing his son’s calf. “I’ll put him to bed, tonight. Can have you put the girls down, and I’ll take Mr Jude, over here.”

“Have to learn how to distribute your quality time with another toddler that wants Daddy all the time, again,” she giggles, kissing his forehead and brushing her fingers through their daughter’s hair. “Thought we moved beyond that after the terrible twos, but no. All of our children are obsessed with you, Mr Harry Styles. Only you.”

Harry grins, graciously accepting the compliment and sitting upright in the sand, his tanned olive skin shimmering beneath the sunlight and reflection of his sunglasses. From far away, Harry can see Hensley making her way through the sand and to where they’re sitting, a noticeable smile on her lips and a giggle echoing around the air as she adjusts her floaties on her arms.

“D'accord, Papa. Il est temps d'aller nager.”

Alright, Papa. Time to go swimming.

“Duty calls.”

Amelie laughs, shaking her head as her husband trots away with their daughter on his hip, their laughter making her heart soar in her chest.

[matildashoney]

BOOK 3!!? YES!!! I love Harry and ames 🥲

ahhhh! it's definitely happening! i'm really excited!

[matildashoney]

What side pit are you in?? Have the most fun!!

i was in watermelon, last night! harry was really well versed with both sides i think and i had so much fucking fun. i literally can't believe it happened and i'm going back again tonight. wish me luck, besties.

[matildashoney]

oh no what happened??

someone stole screenshots from someone else on twitter and i was stupid enough to pay for the tickets and believe the screen recordings and all that <3 all i know is pain my friends

[matildashoney]

YES BOOK THREE YES BOOK THREE

DO WE WANT THAT? LIKE? MORE HARRY AND AMES AND MARRIAGE STUFF AND KIDS AND RUMORS AND MAYBE THE POSSIBILITY OF A BREAKUP AND THINGS LIKE THAT? IS THAT WHAT WE WANT?

[matildashoney]

HBD 2 U, HBD 2 U, HBD BESTIE CAITLIN!!! hope you had a wonderful birthday and celebration!! You deserve all the loveee in this world!! Wish you the best always <333 🥳🥳🎂🎂

AHHHHH, I LUV YOU! I HAD SUCH A GOOD DAY! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

[matildashoney]

Yes I would love a sneak peak xxx

Coming from the moment she walked out of the bathroom with her dress hanging loosely off her shoulders and her lace shoes untied around her ankles, Harry knew that Caroline would be a mess and the mania that she felt earlier in the week would be long gone. Especially gone by the time she is listening to Dave Grohl – her father’s mentor, his best friend, her godfather – give his speech about her father and all that he gave to the world of music. Caroline wouldn’t be able to handle listening to that, especially from the person that arguably knew him better than she did.

“Honestly, I don’t think I can do this, Harry. I don’t think I can get up there and talk about Dad to all these people who didn’t give two fucks about him when he was alive, but suddenly care now that he’s gone,” Caroline says suddenly, staring at Harry with wide eyes, nervously biting her cheek and feeling as though the walls are caving in around her. “How am I supposed to do this? This isn’t fair! This is his award. They don’t even know that they’re releasing his new album, this year. Am I supposed to announce that? Harry, help.”

Harry doesn’t know what to do. Harry doesn’t know what to say, what to do in this situation, how to make everything better. Harry wants to make Caroline feel better, to make her feel like there’s someone there for her that will be cheering her on and making her feel like every word she says is important, that people will listen, and that the words she will say will be just as important to everyone in that room as it would have been if her father was there to make the acceptance speech, himself. Harry does what always seems to calm Caroline, grabs her cheeks and brings her into his chest, holding her tightly to him and squeezing his arms around her.

“Usually, this would work, Harry,” she says with her cheeks squished to his chest, trying to pull her face away from his neck and meet his stare, “but this is something desperate and, honestly, I think I’m going to lose it.” Caroline’s eyes flick between Harry’s lips and his emerald eyes, and she knows what she wants in that moment, a simple kiss, a barely-there peck, something to keep her mind away from the speech and onto something different. “Could you kiss me?” Harry hesitates, looking from side to side, and Caroline begins to panic, thinking that she’s overstepped a boundary and Harry is surely going to hate her and dislike her forever and ever. “Actually, never mind, that was a stupid question, that was ridiculous. I’m so sorry I even asked. I shouldn’t be able to speak. That’s so embarrassing and certainly not something you want to do, and it was inconsiderate of me to ask. I’m very sorry. I’m going to go. I have to do this. I’m sorry.”

“Caroline,” Harry says without thinking, grabbing Caroline’s cheeks and hurriedly pressing his lips against hers, their mouths moving rhythmically together, the emotions and the adrenaline coursing through their veins making everything feel a million times more intense than it truly is.

“Thank you,” Caroline mutters against his mouth, silently hoping that Harry knows that she is expressing her gratitude for more than simply the kiss. “Okay, I have to go,” she says, looking at the stage and the imposing thoughts intruding her mind about the speech tucked away in her chest. “You’ll stay here?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[matildashoney]

TELL US

the way i am in physical tears over this.

Harry driving with one hand on the wheel because he naturally would rather hold your hand while he’s driving. Always. Like, every time you are in the car, you have your fingers laced together and he’s squeezing you every so often to remind you that you’re together and you’re touching.

On the first time, Harry’s a little nervous. He isn’t sure how you feel about it, so he kind of just leaves his hand open by the console and when you brush your hand against his, he goes for it. Holds your hand like he wasn’t nervous at all (despite his palm being a little sweaty) and rolls with it in a work of confidence.

All the time after that, the first thing he does after the engine starts is grab your hand. On occasion, he’ll grab your thigh, just thrumming his fingers along to the music and squeezing you, smiling when your hand rests over his and you sing along to whatever he put on the radio.

He’ll crack a joke if you have to move and your thighs close around his fingers. Saying something like, “Well don’t lock my hand in there. Maybe I need to use it!” or “I play guitar with that hand, y’know.” Nothing is even sexual, it’s just him teasing.

He’ll kiss your hands and your knuckles if you’re nervous.

If Harry wants to turn the volume up, he’ll do it with your hands connected. He’d say something like, “I’d prefer not to.”, if you say that he can let go. He just wants that physical touch.

yeah, i’m thinking.

[matildashoney]

do you have the masterlist for all i’ve ever known? i can’t find it :/ x

here it is!

[matildashoney]

hi i love you ☺️ hope you’re doing good 💜💜💜

hi, my love! i'm okay! i start school next week ... very intimidating! how are you?

[matildashoney]

the lumineers!! I love them!! what’s your favorite song, I think mine is sleep on the floor but hard to choose

wahhh! i love them so much! i was supposed to meet them / work with reverb for the tour back a few years ago but that got cancelled .. my favorite song is ophelia or cleopatra and cleopatra is my favorite album of theirs. their third album is good! i like gloria and life in the city (i want niall to cover that song so badly) but cleopatra is so good, it's hard to beat.

[matildashoney]

what happened🥺

the picture that was taken with harry the other day was taken wherever he is in italy and was alright with him, but there are at least twenty or thirty people waiting and sitting outside where he’s staying, right now. 

what irks me, beyond the fact that people were waiting outside his house, is that i don’t know how you can be a fan of someone that went through all that he has with the stalker, security, court, everything, and continue to treat him as if he is a god entity that isn’t a human being that you can behave however you like.

harry is a person, a human being, and he deserves to have his privacy and boundaries. it’s common sense. it shouldn’t have to be explained to anyone.

[matildashoney]

omg could we get a lil sneak peek please? dying to read ceo!harry

if you insist, hehe. i’m so excited for you to read it!

let me know what you think!

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

“’s because you’re more, assertive, with everyone than me,” she says delicately, trying hard to not offend him any further than she might already have earlier on in the morning. “Assertive is a nice way to say it.”

“Nice way of calling me an ‘asshole’, sweetheart,” Harry scoffs, a breathy laugh leaving his lips as he squeezes her hand again and kisses her knuckles. “Have to do what I have to do to be a good boss, though. Haven’t heard any complaints about my ‘assertiveness’, just yet. Certainly not from you.”

“That’s because I’ve always found myself attracted to the assholes, Harry,” she admits, shrugging her shoulders and squeaking when he tugs her ankles slightly and brings her chair closer to the table, their faces mere inches from each other. “More so, the assholes that are good in bed, but assholes, nonetheless.”

“Good in bed, yeah? That’s what you think of me?”

“Maybe,” she shrugs, taking a sip from her drink and licking her lips seductively, watching the way his eyes trace over her mouth and features. “Mean, that has been our relationship for nearly three years. Think that it would make sense that I think about it from time to time, you know, for reflection.”

“All right, sweetheart,” Harry teases, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. “Whatever you say.”

Harry and Jo make conversation about the upcoming New York Fashion Week until their food arrives, eating silently and occasionally sharing dishes while they discuss how they would avoid making a scene with each other and their bosses at the headquarters in the city. Harry talks about how Carson made all the arrangements and they’ll be sharing a connecting room, which makes their lives much easier when it comes to sharing a bed. Harry knows that that’s why Jo’s face turns slightly into a pout, her lips tucked into a straight line and her fork shoving her leftover rice around her dish frustratedly. Harry nearly asks her to say it out loud, to say something.