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Exceptional 🥺

For ur prompts could you do divorce?

A Whisper in the Wind

CW: divorce

The touch of the silver doorknob against Harry’s bare skin is enough to send a jolt of longing through his body, each nerve compressing painfully against his aching soul. There is a hole in his chest, he knows, right below his heart as the acidic feeling of yearning bleeds from his very core.

It took them fifteen years after meeting to fall together in the dingy bathroom of the Leaky, yet it only took them only two to fall apart. Fifteen years before unrequited love became requited. Before sparse glances shifted into passionate gazes. Before promises turned into vows. Before frowns became tears. Before tears became heartbreak. Before heartbreak became separation.

Yet each night, while lying in bed, the distance between their bodies grew exponentially. Initially unnoticed by Harry, muttered goodnights and quiet sleep-wells replaced the once-palpable love within the calm of their room and the beating of his heart.

Their falling out was not quick, to say the least. The band-aid that was their relationship — their love — was peeled slowly and methodically. Yet, each tear from the skin caused a new ache, a new bruise to decorate his already damaged heart. The adhesive was not fully torn from the wound yet, but the impending last rip stood stark against the bleeding red of his tears.

The pattering of tiny footsteps across mahogany floors causes Harry to take his hand away from the doorknob as if he has been burned. Harry may think many things about his failed relationship, but bringing his innocent son into the fray is something he just cannot do.

Exhaling heavily through his nose, Harry paints on a fake smile to give some semblance of normalcy to his son. His life — his family — might be falling apart, but he’s had two years of experience at pretending it isn’t. He can pretend a little longer.

When he entirely turns around to face Scorpius, his breath catches. Hugging his teddy bear close to his chest, Scorpius looks at him with tearful eyes. He rubs the teddy’s ears — a nervous habit he picked up in his short five years of life — and cocks his head slowly, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled downward.

He looks so vulnerable that Harry can’t help but bring the small boy to his chest, enveloping Scorpius in a hug so full of love that he could only dream of as a child.

“Daddy?” Scorpius mutters against his shirt, voice wavering. “Are you leaving again?”

Harry presses a kiss into Scorpius’s hair, a hushed ‘yes’ escaping his lips like a whisper in the wind. Harry wishes it was just a whisper in the wind.

He also wishes Draco wasn’t currently standing in the hallway tearfully gazing at their son with an expression of unabashed fondness that hasn’t been directed directly at him in over a year.

Scorpius hesitantly pulls away and encases Harry’s tear-stained cheeks with his small trembling hands. He brings their faces to eye level and bites his lower lip, fear of loss flooding into his hazel eyes. After a moment, he releases his lip from his teeth and opens his mouth to speak. “Are you and Papa going to send me back, Daddy? To the adoption center?”

Harry closes his eyes to keep the impending tears at bay, stifling the well of emotion threatening to crawl up his throat. He tries to choke out the words, but all that is released from his lips is a muffled sob.

Draco is beside them in a heartbeat, pulling their son into a fierce hug before pulling Harry in as well. The possessiveness and love that are carefully threaded into the embrace are marked by illusion. This artificial moment has been carelessly plucked from one of Harry’s daydreams and used for the sole benefit of torturing him.

“Never, Scorpius,” Harry says, words rumbled into Draco’s shoulder. “I might not always be home, my angel, but the ones that love us never really leave us.”

He pulls away from the touch of his family and sits side by side with Draco in front of their beautiful son, just like it should have been. Just like it should still be. “You can and will always find them,” he says, placing a gentle hand over Scorpius’ untainted heart, “in here.”

Hello, Anon! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while! This is technically a rewrite of the first prompt challenge of Drarry Microfic I ever wrote (which you can find here). Just look at how my writings changed! Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you like it!

You had no right to make me cry at 10 in the morning 🥺🤧 beautiful 🤧 just beautiful

For ur prompts could you do divorce?

A Whisper in the Wind

CW: divorce

The touch of the silver doorknob against Harry’s bare skin is enough to send a jolt of longing through his body, each nerve compressing painfully against his aching soul. There is a hole in his chest, he knows, right below his heart as the acidic feeling of yearning bleeds from his very core.

It took them fifteen years after meeting to fall together in the dingy bathroom of the Leaky, yet it only took them only two to fall apart. Fifteen years before unrequited love became requited. Before sparse glances shifted into passionate gazes. Before promises turned into vows. Before frowns became tears. Before tears became heartbreak. Before heartbreak became separation.

Yet each night, while lying in bed, the distance between their bodies grew exponentially. Initially unnoticed by Harry, muttered goodnights and quiet sleep-wells replaced the once-palpable love within the calm of their room and the beating of his heart.

Their falling out was not quick, to say the least. The band-aid that was their relationship — their love — was peeled slowly and methodically. Yet, each tear from the skin caused a new ache, a new bruise to decorate his already damaged heart. The adhesive was not fully torn from the wound yet, but the impending last rip stood stark against the bleeding red of his tears.

The pattering of tiny footsteps across mahogany floors causes Harry to take his hand away from the doorknob as if he has been burned. Harry may think many things about his failed relationship, but bringing his innocent son into the fray is something he just cannot do.

Exhaling heavily through his nose, Harry paints on a fake smile to give some semblance of normalcy to his son. His life — his family — might be falling apart, but he’s had two years of experience at pretending it isn’t. He can pretend a little longer.

When he entirely turns around to face Scorpius, his breath catches. Hugging his teddy bear close to his chest, Scorpius looks at him with tearful eyes. He rubs the teddy’s ears — a nervous habit he picked up in his short five years of life — and cocks his head slowly, eyebrows furrowed and lips pulled downward.

He looks so vulnerable that Harry can’t help but bring the small boy to his chest, enveloping Scorpius in a hug so full of love that he could only dream of as a child.

“Daddy?” Scorpius mutters against his shirt, voice wavering. “Are you leaving again?”

Harry presses a kiss into Scorpius’s hair, a hushed ‘yes’ escaping his lips like a whisper in the wind. Harry wishes it was just a whisper in the wind.

He also wishes Draco wasn’t currently standing in the hallway tearfully gazing at their son with an expression of unabashed fondness that hasn’t been directed directly at him in over a year.

Scorpius hesitantly pulls away and encases Harry’s tear-stained cheeks with his small trembling hands. He brings their faces to eye level and bites his lower lip, fear of loss flooding into his hazel eyes. After a moment, he releases his lip from his teeth and opens his mouth to speak. “Are you and Papa going to send me back, Daddy? To the adoption center?”

Harry closes his eyes to keep the impending tears at bay, stifling the well of emotion threatening to crawl up his throat. He tries to choke out the words, but all that is released from his lips is a muffled sob.

Draco is beside them in a heartbeat, pulling their son into a fierce hug before pulling Harry in as well. The possessiveness and love that are carefully threaded into the embrace are marked by illusion. This artificial moment has been carelessly plucked from one of Harry’s daydreams and used for the sole benefit of torturing him.

“Never, Scorpius,” Harry says, words rumbled into Draco’s shoulder. “I might not always be home, my angel, but the ones that love us never really leave us.”

He pulls away from the touch of his family and sits side by side with Draco in front of their beautiful son, just like it should have been. Just like it should still be. “You can and will always find them,” he says, placing a gentle hand over Scorpius’ untainted heart, “in here.”

Hello, Anon! I’ve been wanting to do this for a while! This is technically a rewrite of the first prompt challenge of Drarry Microfic I ever wrote (which you can find here). Just look at how my writings changed! Thank you so much for the ask and I hope you like it!

We love you

Here's to any writer being hated upon or received with words as such " I've read better" from fellow readers.

Here's a message to those readers- we love nonetheless, it'd be a pity to not offer our love to you, however here's something I suppose you should know before saying" it isn't that good "

1. These writers spend hours researching, trying to find the very suitable phrase like "anche le stelle non riescono a capire il mio amore per te" ( even the stars can't fathom my love for you ) or researching about theories about love or Greek mythologies like those of Zeus or even talking about certain theories like ship of Theseus or trying to find the best way to possibly make the writing sound elegant, worth reading even though sometimes they know that whatever they write, people might not enjoy it.

2. They spend hours framing a scenario in their head while they watch out of the window from that of a bus or while blankly staring at the wall, even enacting dialogue, or thinking of what to write over a request they received on the dinner table while they slowly chew away the smaller portions of their food.

3. Editing. That is the most tedious of all, editing and re-editing like three times and even then somehow they miss certain words, wrongly use a single word because they had that word in their head. And all those writers who had cover picture or even a postable fan art, they spend away minutes to hours looking for that one saved pin on theirs Pinterest board that they know would go along with it so well.

4. For all those who write on notes, and then add over Tumblr, it's one of the worst things ever but they have to keep a safety net because what if they wrote the draft and the internets weird and suddenly when it's time to save, it doesn't save and the whole thing is lost. The pain of writing first draft and losing the entire work is like someone spilling tea over your entire homework and now it's drenched with all the ink everywhere and you've Only an hour to submit it. It feels like that.

5. And writing the begining and the ending. One may even have the most perfect ending,and yet somehow to work on making the begining intriguing enough for people do read it, it's something entirely different of an agony. Or either way,they may have the perfect beginning, yet somehow not the perfect ending and there's no one more disappointed than them in their own self when they can't find the so called perfect beginning and ending.

6. And lastly, when they receive disliking comments, or comments that say" I've read better " of course you have, they're still progressing , they're doing the best of their ability, taking out 2-3 hours from their day to write what you Just read from the busy schedule, putting away their work ( writing ) to the end of the day, sacrificing a little of their sleep time to give reader's the work they've written in hopes that there is someone somewhere sitting having a hard time and their writing is the only thing that makes them happy or someone desperately waiting for it's second part because the writers owe it to them. And comments as such, sometimes not only discourage them but it's nags them all day..

So before you hate on Someone, keep yourself in their shoes and imagine what must it feel like to receive such comments after you've worked long enough to write something like that.

Yet, they wholeheartedly love you because you took out time from your day to read something which you didn't necessarily enjoy but read it anyways because you wanted to see how it ends, these writers still respect your opinion and are still thankful for your read.

Hope this makes the fellow writers feel slightly better because if there's no one in the world, I'm your biggest fan and I'll stay till the end and support you because you deserve it.

For @drarrily-we-row-along @lyssarose @dearly-devoted-dawdler @l0vegl0wsinthedark @slytherco @drarrywords @phoebedelia @slytherinnbitch @lou-isfake @drarry-is-my-therapy @rockingrobin69 @sitp-recs @ladderofyears @railmeharrypotter @toms-diary @bubble-gumhead

Add all those writers who needs to read this because they deserve all the love in the world !