#at some point I may need a beta? but I’m honestly not sure if that would fuck with my carefully calibrated relationship to fandom-as-work

[laundrybiscuits]

The first chapter of purify our misfit ways is now up on AO3, encompassing almost all the content posted to tumblr.

I’ve edited and expanded it a bit more heavily than usual, because I wrote a lot of the first draft while exhausted and miserably sipping an overpriced smoothie while killing six hours in my least favorite airport. Still sort of trying to figure out what I’m doing with this fic, so I may go back and edit it further, but I think it’s hit some kind of minimum threshold of acceptability and I basically wanted to overwrite the tumblr draft.

[junesilk]

HIII omg ive been looking for a hxh blog for a WHILE there’s barely any that’s very active😭😭okok so since i’m a kurapika simp could you write headcanons and IF YOU WANTT, a mini scenario of jealous kurapika? hmm if you want an idea it could be smth like the reader has a guy bsf and kura got jealous from the lack of attention :(( THANK YOUU!

JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY!

hxh main 4 x fem!reader

characters included: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

i absolutely will, i have always loved jealousy prompts!! i’ve got several of these asks so far, so i’ll just kill multiple birds with one stone and go ahead and put them all together into a list of headcanons

not beta read ☝️

kurapika—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be quiet in the moment, withdrawing himself from the conversation while staying by your side.

You most likely wouldn’t notice it right away because he is naturally a quiet person—

The most he would do is send a glare at the man taking all of your attention away, but other than that he’d avoid conflict.

As soon as you two were alone in a private setting, he would be much more clingy than usual

Which, in of itself would be unusual, as he’s not the type to be so physically attatched.

Perhaps it was his more possessive side coming out to play, but it certainly was new.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

He’d know. Out of all of the main four, he’d pick it up fastest.

If the conversation wasn’t important, he’d find a way to end it quickly, to save you the jealousy.

If it is, he probably wouldn’t speed through it quite as much, but he’d place his hand on the small of your back,

His little way of assuring you he’s all yours.

He’d bring it up once you were alone, assuring you that he only had eyes for you.

leorio—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

You’d feel his hand slide around your waist, looking up to see him staring at the other person

It was weird, you’d never seen him like… this!

If he was actively speaking in the conversation, every sentence referring to you would include some form of a pet name.

You could’ve sworn he said the words honey & babe at LEAST seven times

Once at home, he’d remind you who you loved most, pressing kisses to your flushed face.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

Oh boy.

He’d be so proud, honestly. You loved him enough to be jealous? Heart melted.

You’d take his hand, tightly pressing your palms together and squeezing.

It’d take him a while to realize you’d been giving the other girl nasty looks for a few minutes, but once he did, he chuckled.

He’d make an excuse, wave goodbye to the poor girl, and then turn his attention to you.

“Woah, babe. If looks could kill..” He’d joke about it for a while, but in the end, he’d assure you there’s nobody he loves more.

killua—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

He’d be extremely mean. Not to you, but to the man you were speaking to.

Killua is naturally really sarcastic, but he takes it to a whole other level.

Scoffing whenever the man made a joke, crossing his arms and looking away when you laugh.

He might use his assassin lineage to scare the other man away, but it’s rare he would need it.

He’s scary enough.

After freaking out the other man to the point where he’d left, he’d flick your forehead and roll his eyes. “That guy was looking at you weird!”

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

You wouldn’t know that he knew.

Not until the day afterwards, when there’s a chocolate robot laying beside your head when you wake up.

It’s his way for apologizing, or just letting you know that he did, in fact, know you were jealous

When asked, he’d shrug it off.

gon—

WHEN HE’S JEALOUS…

Gon’s not the type of person to get jealous.

He simply just doesn’t. It’s not because he doesn’t care for you or anything.

It’s because he’s too busy becoming friends with the new person!

Sure, he may pout if he’s not very interested in the conversation being held, but that’s the most he’d do.

WHEN YOU’RE JEALOUS…

We’ve all seen the movie.

Gon is oblivious, and remains to be that way unless you flat out tell him.

Feels bad for not realizing it earlier, but once told he tries his best to make it up to you.

He’d take you out on a date the next day, perhaps a picnic or something out in nature.

You can’t stay mad at him. After all, he just doesn’t pick up on these kinds of things very fast.

i hate how this got progressively shorter…… but wtv!!!

[forbidden-sin-bin]

Wearing the Glasses

(Eminem x Reader Hc’s and drabbles)

Rated: G

Warnings: Very slight mentions of sexual urges but nothing explicit. 

Tags: Fluff, tooth rotting fluff, slice of life, drabbles, headcanons, no beta we die like men, author has no idea what they’re doing, author has ADHD, glasses kink(?), guys with glasses are extremely sexy and in this essay I will-

Notes: Yes I completely blame it on the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame ceremony for this idea. And as I post this… HAPPY SLIGHTLY BELATED 15 YEARS OF SOBRIETY EM

—-

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known or been with him, seeing him wearing his glasses is not an uncommon sight. Especially when he’s reading or writing lyrics.

And lemme tell you, he does the latter. A lot. 

You’ll often catch him writing intently into his notebook with half-lidded eyes, occasionally halting to replay the word flow in his head while his hand motions in his signature style.

It’s oddly hypnotizing, despite being such a common occurrence. You find yourself stopping whatever you’re doing and watch him with awe. 

Eventually he’ll catch you staring at him with an entranced look on your face and raise a brow at you. 

Once he figures out your attraction to him wearing glasses, he’ll never let you live it down. 

Leaning down to brush his nose with yours and suddenly you’re looking into his eyes and oh boy you may or may not be sweating a lil-

When he’s not wearing them and he tries to read or focus on a particular detail, chances are he’ll start squinting that makes him look like he’s glaring. 

One time, you eventually grow tired of his peeping and just put his glasses on for him. 

The moment the frames are on and his squinting stops as he blinks and his vision is suddenly clear. You try and hold in your giggle as it reminded you of a cat.

Marshall, muttering under his breath: “I’m fuckin blind-”

And just to annoy you or for payback, he’ll take his glasses off and put them on your face. Now he’s the one holding back his amusement while you’re the one with horrible eyesight. 

UNLESS, by some wicked chance, your vision is similar to his; Then hey, that’s nearly a win-win situation! 

That, and the fact that the frames are way too big for your face, it’s just too adorable.

Over the years, he’s had to buy a few different styles - not that he really cares mind you - and usually it’s cause the lens need replacing; The prescription wears down over time. Whenever that happens, you’d be there with him as he tries on different pairs. 

“Honestly babe, you look great in any of them.” You tell him as he turns around to look at you wearing aviator-shaped frames and a grimace. 

“You sure about that?”  

He didn’t get a reply as you were bent over, trying not to bust a lung from wheezing.

“Hey babe, you seen my glasses?” “You’re wearing them on your forehead.”  “...Oh.”

One habit you’ve noticed from him: He takes off his glasses and pinches or rubs the space between his eyes. 

That’s when you know he needs a break and you let him know.

Usually he brushes it off and insists he’s fine, but he’s grateful either way for the reminder.

Eventually he’ll realize you may have a point and halts whatever he’s working on for a breather.

And let’s not forget... the one, the only: The Look.

Y’know, the part where he slightly lowers his frames just a tad and looks over them to give you that look.

Chances of you somehow not getting a sudden hormonal surge are very, very low.

[againstacecilia]

Target Practice

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Warnings: Canon weapon use, flirting, pretty chill chapter

A/N: This is honestly kind of a filler chapter but I had so much fun writing it and learning about the different blasters lolol. This entire story wouldn't be nearly as good without @creatively-analytical as beta-reader extraordinaire, so all my love and thanks to you, darling!!! 💖 Asks are always open!!

To your immense satisfaction, Din announces after dinner that your hand to hand combat is progressing nicely and you won’t spar nightly anymore. Whether that was due to you taking him down earlier in the evening or genuine trust in your abilities you didn’t really care, it meant that you might not wake up tomorrow sore. Although, that had also become a thing of the past; the more you and Din practiced and sparred, the less often you woke up with stinging muscles and surprise bruises.

A glance in the fresher mirror as you were getting ready for bed shows the physical progress you have made as well. Definition was beginning to show up along your arms, your eyes are bright and clear, and something in your stance radiates confidence. But becoming strong wasn’t something that was strictly on the outside of your body; the changes were internal as well. You couldn’t imagine recognizing yourself if you ran into your past self and the feeling blossomed something akin to pride in your chest.

The hold is glowing when you step out of the fresher, light panels illuminating the angles and edges of the metal around you. Everything is softened in the light, including the Mandalorian sitting on your cot, helmet trained on your every move. His armor remains in the corner of the room, neglected since your training began hours ago. Only his beskar helmet returned to its place after being removed for dinner.

“I had an idea,” he says as you settle onto the cot next to him.

“And what’s that?”

“I think we should stop for one day on the way so I can teach you more about weapons.”

You roll your eyes playfully and scoff, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Tonis sounded pretty clear on his timeframe.”

“This is a necessary stop, you need more than just hand to hand combat skills for what we’re headed into,” Din reasoned. “Plus, it’ll make me feel better about you coming along if I teach you as much as I can.”

You expect to feel nervous about the situation, but instead the care he’s showing in just a couple statements shines through and you feel a wash of gratitude toward him. It’s easy, now, to see the meaning behind his words. You’re ready to learn more, you can handle it, I care for you and want you to be safe. You nod, “You make some good points…”

“I know.” You can hear the smile in his words.

You turn toward him and sit criss-cross with your hands clasped together in your lap. “Alright. We stop and you teach me some more. What am I to be learning?”

Din reaches over and takes one of your hands, rubbing light circles along the back of it. “More practice with your blaster will be the main goal. Might even teach you to use a rifle. General weapons training.”

“Sounds good to me.” You slip down onto your back, legs over his in an echo of the night before. “With such a good teacher, I’m sure I’ll pick it up in no time.” He chuckles, transferring his touch to your legs.

A beautiful quiet settles over the cargo hold. Din’s head tips back with a clunk on the wall of the Crest. “We’ll stop sometime in the next few hours.”

“You can come down here, you know,” you scoot over to give him room on the cot. There may not really have been any room, but the thought of Din leaving and staying in his little nook made your stomach twist in an uncomfortable way.

He stares down at you for a moment in consideration. Slowly, he adjusts his body to lay behind you. Like pieces of a puzzle, your bodies shift together as his arms wrap around and pull you close.

“Din?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

He squeezes you gently, “I’m glad you’re here too, Cuyan.”

- - - - - - -

Your end goal was ultimately the Core World of Corellia, but your stop for training is on Sarka. Mid Rim and small, Din lands the Razor Crest in an uninhabited area in the mountains to avoid accidentally running into anyone. As the engines shut down, the sound of a flowing waterfall rumbles through the walls.

Down in the hold, Din hands you a new blaster, a slightly larger one with a sight, and a belt with a new holster. “You’ll wear your old blaster and holster as normal, but I want you to have this one as well. It’s better for longer ranges.” After you fit your thigh holster in its place, Din helps you adjust the new one. Supple leather rests naturally on your hips, the holster settling on the opposite side from where your old blaster sits. His touch lingers on your hips, sending sparks through you.

“How do I look?”

“Dral,” he responds, both hands pulling your hips and body closer, “Strong.” His fingers dig into your flesh through the fabric of your shirt and leggings.

“Din,” you breathe, trying to keep control of yourself, “Training?”

Din clears his throat, “Right. Training.” He steps back and gives you an actual once over before grabbing his own weapons. “Let’s go.”

You giggle and follow him out of the Crest, ramp closing behind you. The clearing you landed in is grassy, surrounded by mountain trees. The waterfall roars behind the ship. “I’ve never seen mountains like this,” you comment with awe, slowly turning in place and admiring the sights.

“They’re some of the biggest in the Galaxy,” Din responds next to you. “I had to capture someone here, once.”

“I’m sure that was fun,” sarcasm laces your words.

“It actually was.” He leads you to the middle of the clearing. “Alright, stretches first.”

Going through the stretches and forms is second nature now, your body responding and reacting without much thought. You use the time to calm your mind, pushing out any thoughts of lingering touches and glances and focusing on the task at hand. Din seems more focused as well by the time he moves you on to the blaster at your hip.

“This is a modified DL-18 blaster,” he explains. “There’s a sight for slightly longer range shots than what your sidearm can do.” The mechanics are similar to what you’ve gotten used to on your smaller gun (“That one’s an ELG-3A.”) and it’s easy to pick up on the differences. The gun on your thigh would be for your dominant hand, the other for your off hand as backup.

Like during your first training session, Din lines tins and other targets up along the clearing and asks you to knock down as many as you can. No time constraints, just feeling the weapon in your hand and how it feels to shoot. Lift, aim, breathe, aim, and squeeze.

Tins fly off their resting places one by one, some more stubbornly than the others. You take your time and focus on each target. After they’ve all successfully been knocked down, you lower your blaster and turn to face Din.

He’s standing right behind you, towering beskar form eliciting an oof from you as you bump into him. You look up into his visor. “How was that?”

“You’re a natural.” His voice is low, skittering over your bones. Your face heats and you turn away, hoping nothing in that helmet can track your breathing or heart rate. “Let’s practice with the other one.”

He steps away and goes to reset the targets a little further away this time. You watch every step, need growing with each move of his body. You can’t help your eyes roving over his body as he walks back toward you, cape whipping in the light wind and steps purposeful. The power radiating from him crawls over the ground toward you, slinking up your body and sending your mind racing. He steps behind you again, “Go again, and remember to take your time.”

Grabbing the DL-18, you take a moment to feel its weight in your hand. In the back of your mind, though, all you can feel is the heat coming off Din, his body inches from your own. You shake your head and lift your arm.

“Wait.” You freeze as Din’s arms surround your body. His hands envelop yours and he adjusts your grip on the blaster. “This one’s a little bigger so you have a little more room to fit your hands comfortably and securely.”

His hands leave yours and you take a breath. Aim. Squeeze. The slightly larger weapon takes some time to get used to but the targets fall one by one. With comments here and there, Din helps you mold your stance and aim over the next few hours. When he’s satisfied with the speed and accuracy of your shots, Din says, “Good. Very good, Cuyan. Let’s stop for now.”

Arms shaking from the unfamiliar weight and angle of the new blaster, you flip the safety on and holster the weapon on your waist. You realize, though, that the vibrating in your limbs isn’t just from the training; the pent up energy from the afternoon needs a release.

“Let’s spar,” you suggest, removing your weapons and stripping to your base layers. The sun setting through the mountaintops had heated your little hideaway over the afternoon. Although, the heat in your body could’ve been due to other factors as well…

“You sure?” Din asks, unbuckling and removing his armor at your nod.

This is what you needed; a physical way to get rid of the nerves and emotions coiled through your body. You don’t hold back sending punch after jab after sweep in Din’s direction. If he’s surprised at your renewed vigor he doesn’t show it. He just moves along with you.

The sparring session becomes a dance. You weave through his attacks, light and lithe on your feet. He manages to catch your wrist and pull you close before you whip out of his grip and spin out of his reach. You land a blow to his stomach, only for him to catch your shoulder and nearly knock you off your feet. Neither of you get the upper hand on the other for too long before the energy shifts, and the sun sets further by the time you raise your arms in defeat, both of you panting from the exertion.

“You… Win…” You say between breaths. Hands on your knees, you let your head hang as you let your breathing return to normal.

Din sits on the ground in front of you before flopping to his back. “If you hadn’t said something, I was close to giving you the round.” His head lifts in your direction, “You’ve come a long way.”

Straightening up and walking over to him, you help him stand and gather your things on the ground. “I told you, I have a great teacher.”

He holds your hand for an extra beat before letting you go to don his armor again. Even after thoroughly exhausting yourself, you can’t help but watch his deft hands work the armor back into place, the way he places his weapons back where they belong.

Back on the Crest, you both clean your blasters and Din reviews with you how they work internally. He has a few power packs laying around for both of yours, but after this you’ll definitely need to get more. Disassembling and reassembling your guns give your hands something to do for the next couple of hours, leaving your mind free to drift.

“When was the last time someone saw you without your helmet?” you ask after a stretch of silence.

“I removed it for Grogu when he left,” Din responds factually. There’s an edge to his voice, though.

You look up at him. “What does that mean for your Creed?”

“I… Don’t know,” his admission is laced with guilt. “But I’m going to find more Mandalorians and find out.”

Nodding and looking back down at your blaster, you slip the final piece into place before speaking again. “When are others allowed to see you without your helmet?”

His hands still before he answers. His helmet lifts to you slowly, “We really only remove our helmets for… Certain people.”

The energy in the room shifts as your mind begins to race. Family, maybe? Or maybe…

“Oh, like… When you’re married to someone?”

“Marriage is a little different for my people, but yes. My ridurr is the only person who can see my face.”

Heart now racing along with your mind, you nod. “Makes sense. Have you ever had someone… Like that?”

“No,” he answers frankly.

“Ah.” The conversation comes to an awkward end and the two of you clean up the rags and tools. Once everything is put away, you stop in front of him as he heads toward the cockpit.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I... feel like I asked you an inappropriate question earlier and it got weird and I’m sorry.” You look down at your feet after you finish talking.

“Hey,” he calls your attention back up to his visor. “You did nothing wrong. I’m sorry I responded poorly.” He steps closer and takes a breath. “I don’t really know where I stand with the other Mandalorians but that doesn’t excuse me being short with you.”

A soft smile lights your lips and you nod. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“You’re fine to ask me anything, Cuyan, you’ve earned that.” Din squeezes your shoulder as he climbs to the cockpit.

Later, his voice comes over the comms system through the cargo hold. "Let’s stay here for the night and leave in the morning. We’re not too far from Corellia, one extra night won’t hurt."

“Sounds good, Din. You staying up there tonight?”

"Yeah, I’ve got some stuff I gotta make sure is good for the rest of the trip. I’ll wake you up before we leave."

“Okay. Sleep tight.”

"You too."

- - - - - - - -

In the middle of the night, you wake up to strong hands bringing you close to a warm body. You keep your eyes closed as plush lips kiss the crown of your head. The corners of your lips lift into a contented smile as you drift back to sleep in Din’s embrace.

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[localplaguenurse]

Divorce fic has taken my brain

So widow and pantalone are endgame because well I don’t have to list down why pantalone is husband material it’s on your pinned post I think and also because pants would treat widow to fancy dinners on the weekends sure he’s busy and sometimes he’s not always home but he always makes it to the weekend dinner. And he makes up for being late with flowers, no not just any regular old flowers, I’m talking about metal flowers because I have this idea where pantalone would give his beloved flowers carved/shaped from durable materials because their love is like the flower. Beautiful, durable and can withstand anything

I have my head in my hands because listen, that is such a good concept. It's a great one even. I actually love that and widow deserves it.

But I have to tell you something.

I did not plan to have widow and pants be endgame.

Legitimately I didn't. I have a whole other twist planned for the ending. Pantalone was going to make an appearance but he was supposed to show up in the middle of Dottore being pathetic post wife leaving like "for fuck's sake get it together and talk to her." Literally the only reason he's shown up so far is because I had to scrap chapter two and couldn't think of anything else to fix it, and also for some reason he cures my writer's block. Pantalone wasn't supposed to be a love interest, he was supposed to be a bandaid-

And like it's fun to joke about how pants is a better husband and I'm "never beating pants/widow endgame allegations" but now I'm at a point where like... That idea is a really fun idea, but I don't want to cave easily because this fic is supposed to be more bleak? But at the same time people may not like the twist I have planned and they especially won't like it if I go that route when they want pants. I can't do both at the same time because it'll make everything messy.

... Didn't expect to ramble that much, but yeah. Good shit. Need me a man like that.

Honestly I think what's lowkey happening is that I'm literally itching so bad to write more pants fic but beta is gonna be mad at me if I tack on more writing for myself. I'm already working on a third Pantalone centric project and I'm on thin ice. She hasn't killed me for it yet because I promised I wouldn't start posting it until the main fics are done, and because I'm using it as stress relief writing because this is a legitimate passion/special interest of mine.

[writethelifeyouwant]

2022 Writing Wrapped

Wow. What a year.

2022 has been a fucking ride, honestly more bumpy than smooth for me, but it’s had some amazing high points and almost all of them are connected to this website and my amazing community of readers. I’m lucky to call so many of you my friends and please know that I wouldn’t be here or be the person I am today without the love and support of each and every one of you. I’ve gained a whopping 300 more followers on Tumblr this year, putting me at over 1,300, and the number of my amazing website members has held steady and picked up a few new faces as well, so thank you all for sticking through this year with me, and thank you to all the new faces!

On my website, the most popular story was:

This was a surprise! Despite this being an older story (posted in May 2021), this page was the 4th most viewed on my website in 2022! It only got beat by the Homepage, the M&C page, and the Post Library 🤯 I guess we all needed to fantasise about Sam making us blackout orgasm high this year! (Honestly, same).

Your favourite new story was:

I’m so so glad that I got to write this series this year. I’ve had the idea for ages and it was great to finally get it down on paper. The twists and turns made it so fun to drip feed to all of you week over week, and I hope you didn’t hate me by the end of it 😆 I also owe a massive thank you to my beta, Jen @jld71, who was a fantastic resource and friend throughout this whole process, and the story wouldn’t be what it became without her!

My favourite thing I wrote was:

This mini series was so much fun to write! I had a great time exploring these characters and writing for Walker / Duke was a really interesting challenge. I also loved the Reader character in this fic, she’s the kind of woman I wish I could be. Total badass, confident in herself and her goals, but still completely susceptible to the charms of one Jared Padalecki – had to keep it realistic 😂 This story was a member exclusive, so if you'd like to read it, go visit my website!

2023 - What's Next?

I’ve got some really exciting stories I’m working on for 2023 that I think you’re all going to love! My posting schedule over the past few months has been pretty erratic–I’m sure you’ve noticed–and it’s one of my aims to set more achievable targets for myself this year so I don’t stress myself out and create problems where there are none. I obviously did not hit the target I set for myself in January of writing 50,000 words a month. Unfortunately, life and my mental health got in the way, as they always have a habit of doing, but I’m still really proud of how much I did manage to write this year! I still managed to write 70,000 more words than I did last year, and 370,000 words is basically 4 whole novels!

The other reason I am reducing my posting schedule in 2023 is that I officially launched my new small business–Bite Me Nail Art–in October this year and I am working on growing this dream full-time! Now that I’m balancing two small businesses that I run entirely by myself, I need to work smarter and put a lot of effort in behind the scenes doing planning, site maintenance, and promotion on top of the actual content creation and product production, which is the part that all of you see. So, this year I’m planning to keep my posting to twice a week so I can make sure the content you’re getting is still of the quality you’re expecting and something I’m happy to be putting my name on.

Tuesdays will remain my series update days, and mini-series and one-shots will post on Saturdays. The next series coming up will be:

There are going to be a few changes to my website tiers as well but I'll make a separate post about that!

And with that… Happy New Year! I hope everyone has a great night and next year gives you a chance to write the life you want to live.

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

HERE WE GOOOOO!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

A: Ugh. My very first rendition of By Deaths To Die in the HP fandom. It was just C R I N G E. That or my HP/Undertaker fanfic? Yikes.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

A: T R A G ED Y, BABY! XD I love the angst.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

A: Pretty much any time Eclipse is on screen in Lambs and Slaughters. xD He’s the funniest character, in my opinion.

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

A: Do cliffhangers count? xD

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

A: Only Google Docs spell check unfortunately. 

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

A: Loss, for sure. My dad died this past fall after a long and painful battle with cancer and so that’s been something that’s been a common theme in my writing ever since his diagnosis. 

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

A: Oh gosh! So far, probably either of my Blood Moon/Sun stories! They are the best! :)

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

A: I love my writing and it’s so fun! :3 Whether it’s been my novels or my fics, I just love it!

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

A: I like them! As long as that’s not the whole focus, you know? So much good stuff comes after the first kiss in a relationship! And not just the sex part either. The juicy, emotional stuff!

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

A: Yes! Though my choices do not always mesh. xD Hazbin Hotel soundtrack and Breaking Benjamin! LOL.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

A: I know its base, but I use just Goggle Docs. That way I can go from writing on my computer to writing on the go on my phone when I need and it autosyncs.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

A: The aforementioned HP By Deaths To Die fic unfortunately. What I did write on it is still up for posterity’s sake but I’m not interested in continuing it. I’ve lost interest in writing for that fandom over the years so I don’t imagine I’ll go back to it. But who knows!

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

A: Yeah, I’m not particularly shy about it but there are very few people I will discuss the details with. Only people like my bestie and my sister that I know won’t judge me (because they read/write it too xD).

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

A: This one is easy! I wrote a story called Whispers of Another Soul (it may be my only ever rated G fic actually xD) for my daughter that’s about a proto-M.X.E.S. meeting and making friends with Moon and eventually Sun via the network we see in the FNAF: SB Ruin DLC. I wanted to write something that she could read and she has me read it to her at bed time pretty regularly so I may just have to have it hardbound for her bookshelf. :)

🍷 Do you drink and write?

A: Yep! On occasion! Usually though, it’s just coffee but I do enjoy wine or a beer after dinner and I’m usually writing then. 

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

A: Hoooooo yeah I do. xD To date, since I started writing online in 2007, my most popular fic with spice was my HP/Supernatural fic called His Companion Was The Grave but my favorite spicy works to write overall have been my Blood Moon/Sun ones in The Sun and Moon Show Fandom!

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

A: Aaaaalllll day every day. Surprisingly, it takes me a while to get a chapter out (Even longer if I’m trying to listen to things while I do or if my daughter is out of school) which, given my honestly absurd writing schedule, probably surprises my regular readers. I sit at my laptop for hours and hours. It’s honestly probably pretty unhealthy and come July, I’m going to be cutting my schedule down to twice a week instead of every other day.

💖 What made you start writing?

A: I’ve been fascinated by writing since fourth grade when I realized that “Holy shit, I can make anything happen on paper, any kind of world and person!”. It was like…the greatest epiphany of my life. We were doing a creative writing section in my class and I’ve never looked back. Thank you, Mr. Madison. All of the shameless literary porn I’ve put out into the world is all thanks to you. xD

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

A: They are my favorite part of writing! :D I only actually started Tumblr at all because my readers wanted a place for easier audience engagement and I am super active in my comments sections! I love seeing fanart of my work and people making fics based on mine or inspired by it. It’s so flattering and I love it so much! :)

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

A: Ugggggghhhhhhh. Maybe the “Chosen One” trope or the “Insta-Love even though we were sworn enemies our whole lives” bullcrap. Relationships need struggle! And character growth! Go forth and trauma bond but don’t skip over the good stuff like the character/relationship development! Oh! Ending it all with “it was just a dream”. Yeah no. Just don’t.

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

A: Well I’m not an artist but yeah sure! If it was writing commissions! :) That could be fun!

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

A: Oh yeah. For my original Thaumaturgy novel trilogy I spent weeks researching. The same with any of my fics, really. 

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

A: To date, it is my Companion Is The Grave Hp/Supernatural fic but it has been up for several years now and both of those fandoms are MASSIVE so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

A: I haven’t yet but I’m not opposed to it. :)

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

A: Yes! I have one reader in particular that is really good at it! :) You know who you are! ;) 

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

A: I LOOOVVVEEEEEE IIITTTTTT! FEEEEEEEEEDDD MEEEEEEEE! XD But seriously, there are fanart has actually inspired some of my most beloved scenes! QuirkyFries has done so, so many amazing pieces for my work (like fifteen or so now?) and was the very first person to ever make fanart of my work. :) It’s super flattering.

📈 How many fics do you have?

A: As of this post, 50 on Ao3 though I’m not sure I ported over all of my fics from FFN when I migrated over. I started on FFN in 2007 and on Ao3 in mid 2012.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

A: Outline, every time. If I don’t, I won’t finish them.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

A: I’m so stoked for MerMay! I’m doing a TSAMS/Subnautica fic with Leviathan boys! It will feature Blood Moon/Sun, Kill Code/Moon, and Eclipse/Solar/Ruin. ;)

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

A: Don’t let the flames get you down but be willing to take constructive criticism. Not everyone who tells you that there are ways to make your work better is doing it to be mean-spirited. Your readers are one of your most valuable resources! :) Also, READ! Read long and read different things! Take note of what you like to see and what makes the reading easier to take in. That will help you learn how to format your own work better than almost anything. 

💞 Who's your comfort character?

A: Sun and Moon. Definitely. xD

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

A: Uh…Blood Moon! Go!

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

A: I have so many! I really enjoy writing Kill Code and Eclipse right now. :)

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

A: Probably not in this post but I actually post snippets and such from my works here all the time so stay tuned! ;) 

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

A: Oh my fucking-. xD Uhhhh…Most of them that are really spicy I guess? Probably my A/B/O ones? Or the super kinky ones? xD Actually, no, maybe that aforementioned HP/Undertaker one. God, that is so fucking embarrassing. 

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

A: Whether people enjoy it! :) 

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

A: Certain turns of phrase, especially when it comes to spicy scenes. xD It’s something I’m very conscious of and trying to remedy. 

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

A: I would love that so much! I’ve published four novels but I self-published and the biggest part of self-publishing is ADVERTISING and I’m just honestly fucking horrible at that? xD However, my works are available on Amazon and Kindle with one novel for teen audiences and the trilogy for adults! :) I can be found under the pseud C.L. McReynolds. <3

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

A: Mmmmm…it depends. Some are longer than others but my current writing schedule is every other day. 

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

A: Hmm…I guess…political stuff? And the mystery genre is kind of tough for me. 

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

A: Yes. In ‘For What Is Grief But Love…Persevering?’, my Solar tribute. I fucking bawled during that fic because it brought up so many of my feelings about losing my dad at the end of October and a lot of those feelings are still really raw, you know? It explores a lot of themes of grief and Jack’s new sentience coming to life at the same time that they lose Solar and he just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling and experiencing and WHY.

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

A: I don’t mind constructive criticism at all! But if you’re just being a dick, well…Go eat rocks, I guess? xD

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

A: I love funny tags. xD Like…’Enthusiastic But Uninformed Consent’ xD Or ‘Technically masturbation?’. I’ve been using the ‘cannibalism’ tag a lot writing for Blood Moon. Also ‘Polyamory’. xD

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

A: YES! ASK ME ALL THE THINGS! I LOVE IT! XD Any and all reader interaction I live off of.

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

🍷 Do you drink and write?

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

💖 What made you start writing?

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

📈 How many fics do you have?

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

[izus-doll]

Beta Headcanons

• Okay so with my beta characters because omegas are the top of society the persons who are more omega aligned or Omega passing will be more favored in society but this is more of a reach when it comes to arguments in as once you’re not an alpha you aren’t screwed 😌

• Betas scents have one core smell, so think of perfumes and how they are described, so with alphas and omegas will have topnotes, heart notes and base notes to their smell while betas will just have top notes alone. Their scents lean between sweet and more musky depending on how they biologically present eg. feminine betas tend to be more sweet and masculine more musky.

• Some Betas may have the alpha voice trait but these only work when an alpha is absent in an emergency

• They have an innate need to serve and perform acts of service towards their packmates / people who are close or familiar to them.

• Most beta end up in mediating type professions: judges, advisors, principals, secretarial positions even lawyers in some cases.

• Can easily have command of the room with their voices alone, a natural type of sensuality or husky tone in their voice due to them having a natural calmness to their temperament that is a direct link to their dynamic. It is rare to see a raging beta as they are planners can will charm or talk their way out of any sticky situation.

• When it comes to their version of nesting they find comfort in tall open area where they can overlook their surroundings and be seen by their mates. So think tall hammocks or loft areas in houses

• Genital wise it’s either or in this AU. so like I said in my alpha head canons list; babies will get the assigned male or female at birth then get a hormone test to see if they’ll be more fem or masc presenting .

• In most cases it’s funny for people to show their baby photos just to compare how right or wrong their parents may have been if in the off chance they decide to not do the hormone test to be 100 percent sure how their child may physically present. Literally think of the most masculine looking beta I’m talking bodybuilding type body only to show their baby and childhood photos of them in frilly dresses and pastels . I honestly think this was the case for Sero and Sato and depending on how I feel Kirishima 🧐

• While I don’t like writing angst and implementing heavy triggering themes in my literature, my friend pointed out that it would be easy to interweave the painful aspects of a person discovering that they could be trans and while that is a possibility, I won’t be doing that under the sole premise of me viewing fiction as an escape from reality and I just want people to be happy reading and not be triggered with body dismorpia. So I’ll focus the sadness in other areas respectfully.

• Betas tend to have fertility issues within both parties. Compared to omegas and alphas who would have a wide window of fertility with heats and ruts that build in intensity as the days pass , betas have shorter periods and have the highest risk to go completely primal in that window as it happens so sudden. In other words, the most “pre-heat/rut” they would get is a solid two hour warning at least and 24 hours at the very most.

• This would give reason for betas to have a lower fertility rate compared to other dynamics. This also in some societies leave them to be infantilized to an extent as their sudden heat or rut occurring, consent in most cases tend to have some dubious factors.

• Therefore when betas go into their cycle in public its almost an unspoken law for an them to be escorted to the nearest hospital or rut/heat house if they happed to be unaccompanied. However as expected this is embarrassing to them so this is a very rare occurrence

• In some countries, unmated / bonded partners of betas need actual written and signed consent in order for them to spend a heat together

• Female betas have periods which is a massive contribution to their low fertility issues as omegas bodies absorb their un-fertilized eggs like every other mammal that walks this god forsaken planet. However to balance out this natural nuisance the most they feel is a mild discomfort.

• This also can be the source of devastating angst, imagine a beta couple trying their absolute hardest to conceive only for Aunt Flo to visit .

• Alphas have physical strength , omegas are fast as hell and betas can almost predict when danger is near. Everyone would sense the threat but will look to the beta to know whether or not to let the alphas stay and fight or make the omegas gather the pups and disappear into the night.

• Omegas are long term strategists but betas know how to react in the moment. It’s a good idea to have both dynamics in competitive fields. The omega lays out the plan and the beta makes sure it stays on track, by any means necessary.

• With that being said, betas and omegas tend to have a different type of dependence with one another. Alphas have to earn their respect among the dynamics. Betas will automatically refer to the closest omega for anytype of assistance an unknown alpha will always be asked last and even then most betas would rather navigate their problem themselves.

• When I said alphas have to work hard socially,I seriously meant it.

• Betas are considered to be nomads until they find a pack or person they wish to bond with and stay with forever. So its seen as a huge flex if you are seen in public with a beta with a mating mark of any kind.

• Adding on to the previous point omega/beta relationships are common and both parties are widely accepted while alpha/beta monotonous relationships are strange and people will actively ask where their omega is or will try to set the couple up with an omega they may know.

• I want to make it clear that betas also have a place in society compared to other universes that basically describe them as regular humans opposed to an established dynamic

———————————————————————————

That’s all i can think of for the betas for the time being 🤷🏻‍♀️ i want to have a decently balanced amount of ideas for all the dynamic in order for any potential fic i write not to focus on the main two omegas and alphas, especially how im placing omegas at the top of the social hierarchy

[belphies-wife]

What Naps Are Like With Them (Everyone)

In celebration of my first post kinda blowing up, I wrote a little something for all the characters, including Luke! (platonically for him, of course)

Again, thank you guys for all the love on my Satan Reacting to Montero fic <3 I’ll be working on requests after this.

Also, no beta we die like Lilith.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Lucifer

➼ Never sleeps, e v e r

➼ His brothers would destroy the House of Lamentation in his sleep

➼Took a while to convince him to take a nap with you because of this

➼ His brothers listen to you more than they listen to their older brother, so you begged them to behave for a few hours so that their older brother can rest for once

➼ You will use your pact if you have to, just please let this man sleep

➼ You made sure to pick a day where you know Lucifer hadn’t slept the night before due to his workload

➼ Seriously, you had to talk to Diavolo about that

➼ You both got into your comfiest pajamas and played some soft classical music for ultimate relaxation

➼ You thought about taking a picture of hm while he slept

➼ He saw it coming and had you sleep facing away from him with his arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t turn around

➼ Smart bastard

➼  If you complain about it he’ll laugh at you

➼ Hey, at least you get cuddles

➼ Luci here looks so calm and peaceful while he sleeps, it’s adorable

➼ No wonder everyone tries to take a picture of him sleeping

➼ He’s a heavy sleeper, so you end up having to wake him up after a few hours

➼ He thanks you

➼ He’s well-rested and in a good mood for the rest of the day

➼ His brothers obviously take advantage of that

»»————-　♔　————-««

Mammon

➼ Unlike most of his brothers, he actually has a decent sleep schedule (most of the time)

➼ However, if you wanted to take a nap with him, he wouldn’t say no

➼ Well, he’d say no, but then say yes immediately after

➼ “Whaddya mean you wanna take a nap with me? Do I look like Belphie!?”

➼ Blushing like crazy while complaining, as usual

➼ “Fine, I’ll go nap with him, then.”

➼ “Oi! Come back here! I changed my mind, I wanna take a nap!”

➼ Tsundere baby

➼ Obviously, you tease him about it

➼ “Jealous, huh? I thought that was Levi’s thing.”

“Shut up! Are we gonna cuddle or not?”

“I said nap, not cuddle.”

➼ Cue the pout

➼ The definition of the 🥺 face

➼ Please love this child

➼ “I’m kidding, of course we’re gonna cuddle.”

➼ Usually a little spoon

➼ Unless he’s in a jealous mood

➼ If he is, he will hold on to you like his life depends on it.

➼ More teasing, obviously

➼ If you think about it, Greed and Envy are very similar

➼ Poor baby wants love

➼ New drinking game: take a shot every time I call Mammon a baby

➼ I shot of water, I know you’re dehydrated

➼ Anyways, naps with Mammon = cuddles

➼ Either you’re holding him to you or he’s holding you to him

➼ f o r e h e a d  k i s s e s

➼ Mammon gets nightmares about what happened with Belphie sometimes, so lots of comfort cuddles

»»————-　♔　————-««

Leviathan

➼ “Levi, did you sleep at all last night?”

➼ Obviously not

➼ He was up all night binge watching the latest season of “The Magical Ruri Hanai: Demo Girl”’s  spin-off series

➼ Why would you even ask?

➼ “Levi, did you stay up all night?”

➼ He looked away, a little embarrassed. “Uh, yeah.”

➼ “Levi, honey. You need to sleep. It’s not good for your health to be staying up so late.”

➼ Leviathan.exe has stopped working

➼ You’re worrying about him?????

➼ And you’re calling him honey?????

➼ Are you trying to kill him?????

➼ “You must be exhausted. Wanna take a nap?”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. I guess I could use a nap.”

“Alright. We should go to my room, since there’s more room on my bed than in your tub.”

➼ Wait you meant a nap together????

➼ You’re really trying to kill him.

➼ Usually, he’d make fun of you and call you a normie.

➼ But he was currently too busy dying.

➼ If somehow you managed to resurrect him and get him to your room to nap, then you’d know this shy boi is a little spoon.

➼ Does this really come as a surprise to anyone? It shouldn’t.

➼ He’s blushing like crazy the whole time.

➼ “Levi, if you can't sleep with me here, I can leave.”

“No!”

➼ He does sleep eventually.

➼ Sweet baby cuddles you in his sleep.

➼ Wholesome af

»»————-　♔　————-««

Satan

➼ As the most responsible one in the family, he has a pretty good sleep schedule, so he doesn’t normally take naps.

➼ However, if you ask him to, he’ll agree. 

➼ If it makes you happy he’ll do it <3

➼ He’s not really touchy-feely and won’t initiate any cuddling.

➼ Dude that you asked to nap because you were tired and wanted to sleep.

➼ Nah bro, you just want cuddles.

➼ While he won’t initiate any cuddles, if you make it more obvious that you want some, he’ll give them to you.

��� Big spoon

➼ If you want him to be the small spoon, he will, but he’ll be flustered af.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Asmodeus

➼ “Asmo, wanna sleep together?”

➼ Could you have made a poorer word choice?

➼ No, you could not.

➼ This boy literally made the lenny face.

➼ “Asmo, I meant a nap.”

“Well, I suppose that’ll satisfy me for now.”

➼ You then proceeded to smack him with a pillow.

“Hey! Don’t mess up my hair!”

➼ You had to wait for him to take off his makeup and change his clothes and stuff.

➼ It’s a process.

➼ Cuddle’s tf out of you.

➼ He’ll be the big spoon or the little spoon. It doesn’t matter to him, so you can decide.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Beelzebub

➼ Takes naps with Belphie a lot and thought it was cute that you also wanted to nap.

➼ Pre-nap snack first, though.

➼ Then he’s ready.

➼ Sweet boi will enjoy the nap whether he’s a big spoon or little spoon.

➼ If you’re happy, he’s happy <3

➼ You kiss his face a lot.

➼ He thinks you’re the cutest little human ever when you do that.

➼ I’d say soft Beel, but when is he ever not soft?

➼ Not counting the custard incident

➼ He Likes to kiss the top of your head while you sleep.

➼ He definitely snores.

➼ It takes some getting used to, but you’re not gonna let keep you from cuddling your big boi.

➼ It honestly feels really safe and comforting to just be wrapped up in his arms.

➼ Equally comforting to have his head resting against you.

➼ Overall just really soft.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Belphegor

➼ You don’t even need to ask. He’s the king of naps.

➼ Being around Belphie for an extended period of time makes you sleepy.

➼ You’re not sure if it’s because he’s sleep or if it’s because he has some sort of sleep-power.

➼ Any time you cuddle you end up taking a nap.

➼ Do I even have to say it?

➼ S m a l l  s p o o n

➼ The smallest spoon.

➼ As the youngest, he’s the most spoiled, so he’s really really clingy and just expects you to drop whatever you’re doing at any given time to nap with him.

➼ I mean, you’d probably do it even if he didn’t expect you to.

➼ He does this adorable thing when he’s sleepy and he sees you nearby where he’ll go up to you and wrap his arms around you and rest his head against your shoulder and just say “Sleep, please.”

➼ You will stop whatever you’re doing no matter what and go up to the attic to nap with him.

➼ Not an exaggeration. It’s happened while Lucifer was talking to you before he he was p i s s e d.

➼ It was obviously intentional

➼ But how can you say no to his cute face?

➼ He seems to be able to keep you from having nightmares and you sleep 100x better with him than on your own

➼ Softest boi

»»————-　♔　————-««

Simeon

➼ While he may dress like a stripper, this man is an angel and is pure™

➼ Anything you want, you’ll get. How can he ever deny you a thing?

➼ He can’t.

➼ You want naps? You get naps.

➼ You want cuddles? You get cuddles.

➼ You want sleepy kisses? You get sleepy kisses.

➼ Hotel? Trivago.

➼ But seriously, sleepy kisses are definitely a thing.

➼ Especially forehead kisses.

➼ Big spoon. He likes to hold you.

➼ Sweet boy loves you so much 🥺

»»————-　♔　————-««

Luke (Platonically)

➼ Purgatory Hall has weekly movie nights, and they invite you over a lot to join them.

➼ You and Solomon have a very long list of human world movies you want Simeon to watch, but the poor man can’t figure out how Devilflix works for the life of him, so group movie nights are the only way.

➼ Not that any of you mind, of course.

➼ Luke begged Simeon to let him join you guys (he has a pretty strict bedtime)

➼ Simeon lets him occasionally if the movie is appropriate.

➼ Luke insisted on sitting next to you and sharing any treats he made that day.

➼ Poor baby ended up falling asleep not even halfway through the movie.

➼ Solomon obviously made fun of him.

➼ “Looks like it’s naptime for the little chihuahua.”

“Don’t tease him!” You say, defending Luke.

➼ At some point, Luke shifts so that he’s leaning against you in his sleep.

➼ You coo at how cute the ‘lil cherub looks.

➼ Aaaand then you proceed to fall asleep as well.

➼ You woke up the next day still on the couch. You were pretty confused since Simeon usually carries anyone who falls asleep to their bed (or the guest room, in your case).

➼ Then you realize Luke still asleep and wrapped around you.

➼ HE IS THE MOST PRECIOUS BABY EVER

➼ You assumed Simeon didn’t want to attempt moving one of you and risk waking the other so he just left you too

➼ Whatever it was, you went back to sleep with the little cherub snuggling you

»»————-　♔　————-««

Solomon

➼ Purgatory Hall sleepover!

➼ Everyone had already fallen asleep, so you asked Solomon if he’d be alright with you two sleeping together.

➼ Not a good idea.

➼ You’re both settled in his bed and you’re about to drift off to sleep when this silly little sorcerer decided to tickle you.

➼ You  s h r e i k

➼ “Solomon!”

➼ “Keep your voice down, dear. You wouldn’t want Simeon hearing and getting the wrong idea, now. Would you?”

➼ The  s m a c c  you gave him though-

➼ “Can I sleep now, or are you gonna keep bothering me?”

“You know you love me.” He grinned.

“Well, duh. But I also love sleep.”

➼ He does let you sleep after that.

➼ You fall asleep first, and one look at your sleeping face and he falls in love with you all over again.

➼ You’re so  p r e c i o u s.

➼ He held you close to him as you slept, pressing soft, featherlight kisses against our forehead and nose, careful not to wake you.

➼ He’s a bitch until you fall asleep, pretty much.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Diavolo

➼ It wasn’t intentional for you to fall asleep, really.

➼ You’d had a long day, and you had been sitting with the demon prince at his palace as he told you about his day over a cup of tea.

➼ It wasn’t like what he was saying was boring.

➼ No, it’s just that you were so tired, and the sofa you were sitting on was so comfy, and Diavolo was talking so much.

➼ It didn’t help that the tea that Barbatos had prepared was especially soothing.

➼ You couldn’t help yourself. You dozed off.

➼ Diavolo continued talking, and probably would’ve gone on for a long while without even noticing if Barbatos hadn’t cleared his throat and gestured towards your sleeping form.

➼ If it had been anyone else, he would have deemed it disrespectful. 

➼ But it was you, and he had realized a long time ago that he was incapable of being upset with you.

➼ “It seems they’ve had a tiring day, my Lord. I suggest you let them rest.” Said Barbatos.

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of disturbing them.” Carefully, he made his way over to you and pried the teacup from our hands so that you didn’t move and break it in your sleep.

➼ Then, he removed his suit jacket and draped it over you like a blanket.

➼ Not gonna lie, even Barbatos was a bit shooketh. 

➼ He didn’t say anything, though.

➼ Diavolo kissed your forehead lightly and had Barbatos bring him the last of his paperwork for the day, which he finished quickly while remaining by your side.

➼ After that he picked up our still sleeping form and brought you to his room where he tucked you in.

➼ He sent Lucifer a text saying that you would be staying the night at the palace then went to sleep after answering a few emails.

➼ He snores loudly, but you somehow managed to sleep through it.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Barbatos

➼ Diavolo set up another palace retreat (because I said so)

➼ You had been assigned a room with Luke and Beelzebub that time.

➼ It went good at first, and everyone was sent off to sleep at around 10 p.m.

➼ At some point in the middle of the night, you awoke from a particularly nasty nightmare.

➼ You were more scared than usual when you woke up, since the room you were in was not your room at the House of Lamentation.

➼ It took a while for you to realize where you were and calm down, but even then you were to afraid to sleep.

➼ Slowly, you exited the room, careful not to disturb Luke and Beel.

➼ You made your way to Barbatos’ room and knocked softly.

➼ Briefly, you wondered if he was asleep, but then he opened the door.

➼ You silently panicked when you realized your hair was a mess and your clothing was rumpled from sleep, but your disheveled appearance didn’t seem to faze him.

➼ “Hello. I was just about to prepare for bed. Is something the matter?”

➼ Suddenly, you felt very, very silly to come to such an ancient, powerful being for help with a little nightmare.

➼ “Sorry, it’s nothing. I apologize for bothering you. I’ll leave.” You said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“You never bother me, my dear. Would you like to come in?” He asked, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Yes. I would like that.”

“Is something bothering you?”

You blushed. “I had a nightmare. I couldn’t go back to sleep after that. I know, it’s silly.”

“Of course it isn’t.”

“Can I... Can I stay here with you tonight?”

“If it would make you feel better, you may.”

➼ Barbatos tucked you in then sat next to you, gently running his hands through your hair. He began singing an old song in some ancient, forgotten language. His voice was soft and soothing as he sang, and you found yourself unable to stay awake even if you tried.

➼ “Goodnight, my dear.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Thank you so much for reading!

Request a Fic/Headcanon || Obey Me Masterlist

[whet-ones-write]

Baku Birthday 2021

So I’m posting this a /little/ early because I’m just too excited to share this fic! So I joined in with Bakugou’s Birthday Bash hosted by these amazing people!!

@phasmwrites​ @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda​ @lady-bakuhoe​ @jodrawssmut​ & @ramen-rambles​ 

And since joining I couldn’t have found a more supporting and helpful group on Discord!! Special thanks to: @hoe-doroki​ for being my beta reader and editor!! Thank you for dealing with my sorry, inconsistant ass and giving me the strength to pull though and just do some of my best writing to date! I haven’t written so much in so long and it was rather nice!! 

And to @notchesandbullets​ for telling me I can do this and be those words of praise when I needed them the most helping me pull though and finish this!

Contains: DragonShifter!Reader x Bakugou. Fantasy Setting,

WC: 3755 - Masterlist to all the works!!

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, oral (Female + M reviecing), Cowgirl, unprotected sex, Cum eating, Premature Ejaluations (if you squint), Age gap? It’s implied Reader is much older than Katsuki. Restraining Katsuki, Pervert Kiri

Looking around his throne, Katsuki couldn’t help but scoff at what came to his mind. He had everything a chief could want, but it still wasn’t enough for the young, barbaric male. Vast and grand was his home. People were happy, going about their day, harvest due and bountiful, the river running steady and clean. 

Though, he was still missing a vital element to his life. Someone to make him happy, to have by his side and call his own. So the only thing he had left to need or want was someone to walk into battle with him, because not just any person would. 

No, they had to have a few key traits to meet his standards. They needed to have a willingness to fight, to want to protect those around him and themselves with everything they had. They had to be able to take flack and a joke but also be serious when the time came. They had to be able to take no shit from anyone and make sure to be willing to put others in their place if they went out of line.

It wasn’t much! Honestly…Or at least he thought so. 

“...ugou, Bakugou!” A voice snapped him from his thoughts as he glanced at his adviser, unhappy over the fact he was interrupted from his thoughts. 

“What is it?” Katsuki questioned as he lazily shifted his attention to the man standing at his right side. 

“As I was saying, there have been some sightings of strangely coloured dragons in the nearby valleys. We do not know if it is one or more or if they’re passing by or staying. Moreover, they have yet to attack the villages, but it would be wise to at least investigate the surrounding areas before anything happens,” his assistant spoke as he looked for what the King was going to do. 

Taking a moment, Katsuki couldn’t help but smile as he got up and began to stretch. “Eijirou, prepare for a flight. It seems there might be someone that needs a reminder of who those valleys belong to.” 

Though to the Bakugou family dragons were revered and seen as good omens, there was a limit. Dragons that fought over territory could be destructive and wipe entire lands from existence, so if there was ever more than one in an area it could prove to be a bad omen instead.

One dragon or one family were seen as protecting the lands, keeping invaders at bay and being loyal by nature. Though another one could offset the balance, should they prove to be hungry or hostile. The valleys in which the Bakugous lived were famous for having the longest standing relationship with the red dragons of the Kirishima clan. They had served one another for generations with the latest duo being that of the Barbarian King Katsuki Bakugou, son of the late Chieftess Mitsuki Bakugou, and the dragon that protected the lands, Eijirou Kirishima, son to late Hikori Kirishima.

Standing at seven feet, the mostly human nodded and saluted as he walked with his friend outside. “Yes, sir.” He beamed happily, seemingly excited by the prospect of seeing another dragon. “Though, what are your instructions, should they prove hostile?” 

“Hostile?” Katsuki mused, placing a hand to his chin as the other morphed into that of a forty-foot-long dragon from the tip of his nose to the very end of his arrow-pointed tail. Once finished, Kirishima leaned down to lower his wing, letting Katsuki get on by walking up the thin bone of the arch of his wing and holding onto his spines, climbing all the way to behind the red horns that adorned his head. “Should the dragon wish to try and stay, we will start through the diplomatic route.” 

That was the thing about Katsuki. For all his bloodlust and anger, he was quite the strategist when it came to monsters several times his size. Having worked with Eijirou for some time, they had built up a bond of trust valuable for when trouble arose. 

“Should that fail, we will have to take things up a notch. I would like to avoid a fight if at all possible.” He sighed as he clung to the horn while the other took off. “The valley is full of fish making their way upstream for the breeding season,” he muttered before groaning and slapping his face as he remembered something, getting even more irritated. 

“It could be a female dragon,” he groaned, looking down to Eijirou. “With breeding season approaching, it could prove very troublesome,” he grumbled as he lay down to keep low as Eijirou took to the sky. 

“Hm,” came a deep rumble from the beast.

A female dragon would be far better than a male should they be able to move it along. It could prove worse in the long run, though, as other males came to try and have their chance, destroying the local landscape fighting over the female. 

“Not going to be influenced? I know you’re a young male.” Katsuki snickered as the dragon grunted and shook slightly in a ‘no’. “Don’t worry, whatever happens we’ll sort it,” he offered quietly as he calmed down to focus on the mission at hand. 

They took to the base of the mountains and looked for any signs of disturbance. With fear running though the nearest village, it was clear to see that the crops were half unattended and in the middle of being harvested. “I’m going to go take a look at the surrounding areas and talk to the locals. You go on up the mountain and scout that out,” the Chief commanded. With a short huff and a nod, Eijirou turned to slowly and carefully make his way up and around the mountains. 

It wasn’t long before Eijirou returned with some news. Meeting in the center of town, the dragon descended slowly and waited for Katsuki to approach before he spoke. “I found a trail of blood from the ground leading up to a cave roughly halfway up the mountain. 

Nodding, Katsuki signaled for Eijirou to lower himself so he could climb onto his back. “Sounds about right. The locals saw a figure flying unsteadily across the sky and into the mountain. There was a loud thump before all went silent. It’s more than likely a dragon. It hasn’t done harm to the villagers yet, though, so a slow, quiet and careful approach is needed.”

Coming to the entrance of the cave, Katsuki hopped off Eijirou, immediately noticing the plants had been recently crushed and a splattering of dried blood was leading into the cave. Looking up to Eijirou, he nodded and quietly led the way in. Eijirou used a small breath to light the torch that Katsuki would have to use to see. 

It didn’t take them long to find the cause of the blood and crushed plants. Lying in front of them was a bronze dragon just as large as Kirishima, if not bigger, bleeding heavily from it’s hind leg, belly and face. 

“Holy shit,” Katsukimuttered as he looked over the sight. He froze as the dragon raised its head. Chuckling, you looked over at Katsuki and Eijirou. “If you have come to kill me, at least make it swift.” 

“Tch, don’t lump me with most humans,” Katsuki stated as he approached you, looking over the wounds. A huffing could be heard as he made his way closer, your muscles tense and beady eyes watching his form, ready to attack should harm come. “I’m a Bakugou. We don’t harm your kind.” 

“You may not harm but you enslave. I feel sorry for the red scaled one over there. Forced to serve you like their ancestors,” you mumbled, laying your head down and closing your eyes to rest. 

Eijirou huffed before he sat down. “I’m not. It’s nice to have lands that we don’t have to fight over and live in harmony with humans,” he protested, watching as Katsuki assessed the wounds. “I am from the Kirishima clan.” He beamed, almost a little too excited to say so. “It’s nice to see another shade of red around here. Normally those of the Shinsou clan are around these areas.” Eijirou started, tilting his head to the side. “So what brings you here?�� he mused. 

Which was how you explained your side of the story. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to attack those of draconic race because of the first dragons causing havoc and turmoil for humankind. You were a young dragon who still had not found some land to live in. So, you were aimlessly looking around for somewhere to sleep before you were ambushed by a kingdom that had a bad past with dragons, driving you out. 

“Well,” Katsuki started as he backed off. “If you revert into your human form, we can take you back and give you medical aid. I’m not about to let a creature like you just die pathetically cold and alone in such a depressing state.” 

With that, they watched as your form changed into a bloodstained, corseted, sleeveless dress, wings still visible with a tail barely peeking from beneath your long skirt. Their eyes lingered for a little too long to be completely respectful.  

Getting up from where he lay, Eijirou gently enclosed you in his claws, protecting you, letting Katsuki onto his back before taking off back to the kingdom to give you the aid you needed. 

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next thing you knew, you were waking up to some argument going on outside, though you took no heed to it. After all, you would need to at least stay to repay the kindness the human has shown you before taking your leave. 

As the flap to the tent opened, you looked up at the figure that came to inspect you in the cot. “How are you feeling?” The one that entered had torn red wings and a thin arrow-headed tail much like that of the dragon you’d seen earlier. 

“Much better, thanks.” He watched you as you got up to move around.

“Yeah, my mother is a great healer.” The man beamed proudly before his face dropped for a moment in realisation. “Oh, that’s right! I’m Eijirou Kirishima!” He offered a hand for you to shake as he introduced yourself. “I’m Katsuki’s dragon companion. Speaking of which, when you feel up to it, he wants to see you in the throne room. He’s currently occupied with some business, so why not come later tonight before dinner? He wants to talk to you about some things.”

“Ah I see” You nodded in agreement though still clearly wary of him. 

“Yeah, my mom specialises in herbal and magical treatments for dragons. You should be fighting fit by the end of day! So enjoy yourself and have a look around! You’re more than welcome here as long as you don’t kill anyone.” You found yourself chuckling lightly along with him as he waved. “See ya! Rest up well and don’t push yourself too hard!” He beamed as he left. 

As Eijirou left you alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but think back to just how trustingly and kindly Katsuki had treated you. Taking your leave from the tent, you looked to the sky to gauge the time of day. Deciding you had at least an hour before the sun would set and you would need to see the Chieftain, you went to see what the town had to offer.

As you walked among the townsfolk, you couldn’t help but notice that dragons and humans walked around one another as if that were a normal thing to do. Had things always been like this? And how had this not spread to other countries? Though be that as it might, you were happy for these people; they seemed to be comfortable and welcoming just like the man who had found you. Perhaps you could stay a little longer than intended… 

Still, once the sun started to set you walked back the way you came only to come across a tent larger than most, assuming that was where Katsuki would be wrapping up the day. 

You slowly opened the flap as some villagers came out, happily discussing the day’s harvest before you heard. “Come on in, dragon!” Katsuki called as he remained seated on his chair smirking to himself. “Feeling better, I see?” he questioned as he sat up straight. Even like this, you could see and feel the power he irradiated. 

“Yes, much, thank you.” Bowing, you smiled before you were told to stand upright. “If there’s anything I can do for you, please just let me know. It’s the least I can do after you saved my life.” 

The moment those words left your mouth, you had a feeling that you were either going to live to regret it or thank him.

“Speaking of which,” he started as he leaned back and patted his lap. “Please, come here,” he commanded. Once you approached, he leaned forward, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger as if inspecting you. Up close, you could just see how deep ruby red his eyes were as well as how sharp his teeth were. For a human, he had a great set of fangs on him. ‘Shame he’s a human; he would have made a great and fierce dragon,’ you couldn’t help but think before he spoke, bringing you back to reality. 

“Yes, you’re perfect,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap forcefully by your waist. “Strong willed, a fighter, and someone I could learn to grow better with,” he stated as he suddenly captured your lips. “You will be my partner,” he stated as his hands wandered low. 

Spluttering and blushing, you thrust your arms at his chiseled chest, putting some distance between the two of you. “B-But how do you know? I could kill you! You barely know me,” you protested, though with his power he forced you to fold your arms, leaning in to whisper. 

“But you owe me your life. Surely this is nothing and if you don’t feel like you’re the one you’re more than welcome to leave,” he purred.

You knew he was right. This young, powerful man knew that dragons didn’t back down on their word, and so serving him would mean repaying the debt? A small price to pay, truly. 

“So why not get on your knees for your Chief and thank me properly?” he offered, leaning back and letting go of you. You watched as the grin on his face was almost ear splitting as you sunk to your knees in front of him. He let his hands wander down his trousers to help you get them off and down to his ankles. 

“That’s it,” he praised, reaching out to gently lay his hand on your head. His eyes watched you with keen interest as you slowly took him into your mouth. He wasn’t completely hard and you shifted to get a better angle and grip him in your hands, though he tried to encourage you with soft words. “That’s it, fuckin’ take it all in,” he muttered as he leaned back, getting more comfortable on his throne. The grasp on your hair got tighter as he started to get impatient and guide your face along his length. “Come on now, no need to be so shy about it.” His teeth showed as he smiled. “You’ve lived longer than I have, surely you have the experience?” he goaded. Which, if you were honest with yourself, was true. You were most likely older than him, and could show him a thing or two while you’re at it. 

Straightening your back a little from the floor you looked over his hardening dick. Licking your lips, you took the head in, using the flexibility to weave in between the head of his cock and the shaft before leaning up and taking it in as much as you could. Tongue flat, running along the thick vein underneath, you slowly bobbed your head back and forth, breathing when you could. It wasn’t long before you felt a tug with the hand that ran through your hair to pull you away from him, leaving you panting, and breathless from working so hard to please him. 

His cheeks flushed a bright pink he chuckled almost as breathlessly as you, having forgotten how to breathe in the moment before letting go of your hair. “What a good girl,” he praised as he shifted back and patted his lap.  “Why not come for a ride?” he questioned as he watched you stand. “I would have taken you back to my room, but I'm feeling impatient. It’s my birthday after all,” he informed, eyes hungrily watching over your form as you stripped naked, and then worked on taking off his trousers completely. 

“Your birthday?” you questioned him as you straddled his lap. “I see. Perhaps this will be enough of a gift then?” you mused lining yourself up, slowly trying to sink yourself down on him.

His head slammed back against the back of his throne as he groaned. You were taking your time, though as you hadn’t prepared yourself. You knew your body could and would stretch, but it was painful to begin with. He was stretching you to your limit, but you licked your hand to reach down to let the saliva coating his dick for an easier entry only then were you able to sit down fully on his lap. 

Taking a good minute or two you both sat, panting, just feeling one another as you got used to the stretch of his cock within you. His hands empassing your hips, he tried to get you to move, but you had other ideas. It was his birthday? That’s just fine, but you would make sure it would be a ride he wouldn’t forget in a hurry. 

You gently grasped his hands and took them off your hips to raise them above his head as you started to roll your hips back and forth. Leaning in close to kiss him and to distract him, you used your tail to wrap his hands above his head. He only just realised when you leaned back.

“W-What the fuck is—shit—the big idea?” he panted as his eyes were glued to your form, which started moving so effortlessly up and down on his dick. 

“It’s your birthday. I want to spoil you, so enjoy the ride.” Chuckling a little darkly, you couldn’t help but use your wings to give you some extra momentum and power into your movements as you rode him. 

He couldn't believe just how lucky he was to have such a beautiful person ride him within an inch of his life. You knew just what to do and how to please him, which, to his embarrassment, had him orgasming not much longer after you started. 

“F-Fuck!” he grunted, unable to couldn’t help it when his hips met yours. Though your gut had only just started to coil with your own orgasm, much to your disappointment. You remained seated on his lap as he came down from his high, letting go of his arms. 

He watched you only to frown. Noticing you hadn’t orgasmed yet he couldn’t help but feel like a teenager all over again. 

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all. 

Growling, he forcefully lifted you up from him as he slid to the floor, getting you to sit in his seat. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he brought you to his face and started to lap up not only at his own cum that had started to seep it’s way out from the confines of yourself, but searching for any original taste of your own essence. This surprise had you leaning over with a groan. In all your years, no other man had been so willing about doing this. 

Smirking from the inside of your thighs, he knew from your expression that you were loving it or at the very least surprised by his movements. “What?” he questioned, so close to your cunt that you could feel his breath ghosting it. “Never been eaten out before?” He seemed a little too smug, as if he almost already knew the answer. 

With a shake of your head, he only shifted closer and got more comfortable as he nudged your clit with his nose. “Hmm, good. I'm a man starving for pussy and it’s delicious, so don’t mind me,” he muttered before his gaze lowered. 

Though his dick felt great, this was almost a thousand times better. There was no painful stretch, only a soft muscle, though not deep. The slurping and sucking sounds and sensations were what quickly brought your end. He was more than happy to guide you though your high as you remained hunched over his head, hands which you now realised were in his hair, forcing his face just that much closer. 

Leaning back once you had come back to Earth, you watched him as he wiped his chin and cheeks with the back of his arm. “Thank you for the meal.” He chuckled, giving off a lopsided smile, showing off the pearly whites of his sharp teeth. He stood as he gathered up his trousers as he got dressed. “You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner in my home,” he stated as he turned to you and passed you back your clothes. 

Slowly taking them, you nodded as you got dressed despite the shake in your legs. “Y-Yeah, I think I will,” you confirmed as you slipped back into your clothes. 

“Good choice. I’m not finished with you yet, beautiful.” Leaning in, he kissed your cheek before taking his leave only to find a very flustered Eijirou waiting outside. “Something wrong?” Katsuki questioned with folded arms, knowing exactly what he was doing. 

“N-No!” the dragon protested, though the redness that was spread all the way up to his ears gave him away. 

“Next time, just ask. It’s rude to eavesdrop.” Katsuki laughed as he walked away, going to join the mass for dinner. 

“K-Katsuki! I had to make sure you were safe! After all, she’s a rogue dragon,” Eijirou protested in earnest. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that would be something that Eijirou would very much like to do. 

“Sure, sure, whatever you say, man.”

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki took a seat at the head of the banquet table, waiting for your arrival before the festivities could begin.

[imaginethat0327]

Kay let’s do this *cracks knuckles*

🎱 My beta is the one with access to ao3 so I can’t see the stats 😅

🍓 I think I started writing fanfiction when I was like, eleven, I just didn’t know the terms for it yet. And I’m honestly not sure what triggered it other than me wanting to see scenarios with characters I liked. I think my first fanfic (which I never finished) was about the Young Justice crew going to DisneyLand??

🌵 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/64OXW7AK5ULeSPEKzgdtNp?si=5WEu21W6T0Or_BRXkCHCKw&pi=u-eINmVchcTp-l. (My fav instrumental playlist ❤️)

🕯️ 1. Just… it’s a 1. I don’t do it nearly as often as I should because I hate it 😂

🛼 - 🏝️🩺🔥🧟💀

🥑 @isyhawk 100%. If I contacted another then it would be @rurus-kadoo

🥤 I think this is supposed to be fanfic authors but I don’t read fanfic anymore, so I’m going to say Rick Riordan, lol.

💌 … 84. But it’s legit all spam which is why I haven’t looked at them yet 😂

🌻 @nyxcentury

🐇 Always would prefer OG characters as opposed to reader inserts

🧃 Personal lore that I haven’t shared before… uh, I sang the national anthem at one of my sister’s gymnastic meets one time.

🎲 Fatigue, mental or physical

🍄 Every spring, avians get a nesting urge where they’ll start crafting one out of blankets, pillows, clothes, and little trinkets or items that they’re fond of. Both Tango and Scar inevitably end up finding themselves in the middle of these nests at some point or another and even if it gets in the way of their projects, they can’t bring themselves to try and break out of it because it would make their partners very sad. So they’re both just kind of stuck being coddled and cooed over for a week and they both secretly (on Tango’s end) and not so secretly (on Scar’s end) adore it.

🧸 Aside from the logging stuff that I like, then reaching out and talking to me :) because then we’re friends and I’ll be obligated 😂

🪐 I’m on course to graduate college early, I have a pretty good living situation, and I have a ton of new online friends that I’ve been talking to/playing Minecraft with

📚 “Redbubble” and that’s it. I was going to make a password but I forgot, so now there’s just a note with the word “redbubble” in it

🍬 Deku is actually kind of dumb when it comes to fighting and how much effort he puts into stuff. Looking at a villain and going “I’ll beat him by trying even *harder* is dumb. Bakugo agrees with me. It ends up with Deku recklessly hurting himself and potentially hurting others. Real people, most of the time, can’t give 100% and then just decide to double their effort on a whim if stuff isn’t working out. I always thought it was kinda stupid and also very unrealistic/potentially a bad message. Granted, I haven’t read a lot of the recent manga, but if the fight scene with Deku in the third movie was anything to go by, he hasn’t learned.

🔪 I’ve tried to figure out the exact nerve/blood vessel that needs to get pinched for the Vulcan neck pinch to work. I don’t remember if I found it or not. Other than that’s it’s been a lot of “how do I kill someone in XYZ way” 💀

🦷 If you get a bloody nose, tilt your head back and get a twisted piece of tissue and stuff it up there. Then breathe gently in through your nose. The gentle airflow will clot the blood wicked fast. Be careful pulling the tissue out though otherwise you might take the clot out too.

❄️ I want James Patterson to write me a steampunk fantasy book

🌿 Give yourself a little bit of a break, but then find someone to talk about your project too. Even if it’s just recapping events, talking about stuff usually gets me back in the spirit of things. Also, at least for me, I have to make sure I write just a tiny bit every couple days, because big breaks may lead to the fic getting abandoned.

🥐 The Australian dude talking about the attack dogs and then he makes an impression “and they came bounding over -“ makes me laugh every time.

🏜️ Any comment that analyzes character relationships or plot elements makes me indescribably happy. All comments do, but those are my favs

🍦 I honestly can’t think of a character that I legitimately hate. Maybe it’s because I know they’re supposed to be unlikeable because they are a character??

🥝 oh dear god we’re getting real here… em, I’d say I don’t lie a LOT, but I do have a bad habit of lying about myself and my day-to-day going-one because I don’t want to feel like I wasted my day or did something wrong. For example, I told my mom that I did a good job hydrating yesterday when the only liquids I consumed were cups of coffee 💀

🦋 Umm… truthfully, I’ve been debating my value as a person/friend/sibling recently. How much joy do I actually bring to other people. How productive am I actually being. How much good am I actually putting into the world. How many of my interactions are me just clinging to the hope of validation as opposed to me focusing on others and their lives. 😥

🦴 no singular piece, but music and lyrics usually do

🍅 Imagine, for the love of god, go back and reread and edit your own writing. Stop word vomiting onto the page and expecting your beta to catch every little thing. Also, learn how to be CONCISE. Stop waxing poetical about every little thing or you’re never going to finish anything!

🐚 Depends on the surprise. Twists in movies are great. Friends showing up out of the blue are great. Random changes to pre-established plans make me want to cry.

🪲 “How are we going to kill it now?” Xisuma sounded a bit breathless from the heat, and when Cleo turned to look she saw the admin popping the cap on a fire res potion. “We can’t fight it while it’s in the lava. We have to draw it out.”

“If we try to fight it in here, we’re going to be killed by the blazes immediately.” Bad agreed. “We need to get it outside.”

☁️ I wanted a name that was whimsical - and the sort of dreamy, enthralled concept of “Imagine THAT” worked really well for me. Also I was really into Imagine Dragons at the time 😂.

🐝 Okay - I’m going to miss people, but I love every single person who’s read my fics and reblogged my post. For a few specific people: @rurus-kadoo - I am in awe of your creativity and your musical talents, and I’m so thankful you have shared them with me. I’ve loved chatting about music and making playlists with you. @isyhawk - My pen pal, you’ve taught me so much about life and you’ve helped me talk through some kind of heavy stuff, and I’m always going to be grateful for that. I love being pen pals with you ❤️. @red-carter - I’m so happy that you reached out to talk to me despite it being scary. I appreciate your openness and your kindness and I love getting to say good morning to you when I wake up.

🌸 I do have pets! An eleven year old golden doodle named Casey, and an almost 2 year old mini bermadoodle named Jojo. Pictures at the bottom!

🎨 Not sure if I have a fav piece, but anything by Applestruda, Hybbart, and Noxolotl is incredible

🧩 Anything with bad grammar/spelling/formatting is an immediate turnoff for me.

Pictures!!!:

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats  🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love 🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? 🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love 💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis 🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before 🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?  🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings 🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now 📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app?  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character 🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? 🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on ❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best? 🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? 🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate 🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately  🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing 🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? 🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them 🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

[tobesolonely]

aura

A/n: Hi everyone! this is a tad bit different from the things i usually write (I think) as i wanted to switch things up a little bit. I’m kinda nervous to post it so pleaseee please let me know your thoughts! As always please enjoy!! thank you to everyone who beta read for me btw :)

summary: witch!y/n can see auras and harry is blue

my ko-fi! thank you :)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N has always been able to easily empathize with others. She could see others' emotional energy— their aura— and this made it easy to know exactly what they were feeling. Not only could she see auras, but she could take away anyone’s emotional turmoil just by touching them.

One of Y/N’s most vivid memories from her childhood was when her best friend came to school one morning in tears over the death of her pet fish. When Y/N leaned in to give her a hug, she felt an overwhelming heaviness overtake her body as soon as they made contact. Upon pulling away from the hug, her friend’s demeanor was completely changed. Instead of being sad over the death of her fish, she was able to instead reflect on all the good times she had with him. Her friend was fine for the rest of the day, but Y/N was left grieving over a fish she never even owned.

Y/N went home that day, confused. How was it that her friend was so easily cheered up just from a hug? Was that all it took for Y/N to make others feel better? If that was the case, she decided she wanted to be a ‘Professional Hugger’ when she grew up. As time went on, Y/N learned that she didn’t even have to hug others to rid them of their mental pain. The slightest touch from her instantly made anyone she came into contact with feel better.

It took a few months for Y/N to realize it was her touch that healed others. Sure, that mental anguish then became hers to carry, but how many people could say they could heal someone just by touching them? If that was the price she had to pay, then so be it. From that point on Y/N made it a point to help anyone she could. 

As Y/N got older and her skill with this power grew, she learned to redirect the painful energy elsewhere so she didn’t always have to sit with it. It worked some of the time, but it was something she was still learning to master. Y/N wasn’t always successful in doing this, though. While whoever Y/N touched went about their day feeling great, she would experience their emotions so intensely that she felt as if she were coming down with a cold. Y/N dealt with it in silence because the way she saw it if she was blessed with this gift, she had to be selfless and put it to good use. Y/N was a firm believer that all the good she put out would come back to her in another life at least ten times over.

It was difficult for Y/N not to touch everyone she saw whose aura reflected sadness, anxiety, or worry. She tried to stick to only doing this to people she knew, but there were some instances where Y/N encountered someone who was just so clearly unhappy that she could not help herself. 

For example, right now. 

Y/N immediately sensed this stranger’s emotional turmoil as soon as they entered the space. It was late afternoon on a Wednesday. Y/N had the longest, most physically demanding day at work and the last thing she wanted to do was go home and cook. Even though she had just gone grocery shopping two days prior, she stopped by her favorite Thai place on the way home. Y/N was in the middle of ordering when their presence quite literally took her breath away, causing her to stumble over her words. 

She turned to look over her shoulder at the person who was so greatly distracting her and locked eyes with the most pitiful looking stranger she’d seen all day. The first thing Y/N noticed about him was his hair. It was unruly, like he had just gotten out of bed. She also noticed how tall he was–– if he had just a couple more inches on him, he would’ve had to crane his neck to enter the establishment. Upon making eye contact with Y/N the man quickly looked down at his shoes, twiddling his thumbs. His aura was a mixture of indigo and dark red when Y/N looked at him. Anger and sensitivity.

“Do you still need a moment?”

The voice of the cashier breaks Y/N out of her analytical thoughts of the stranger standing a few feet behind her. She nods, re-situating her purse on her left shoulder. 

“Uh, please. He can go ahead if he’s ready.” Y/N gestures behind her and the cashier nods, asking the man behind her if he was ready to order yet. He steps up to the front counter, eyes trained on his feet as if he couldn’t walk without watching every step he took. 

His energy was intense and Y/N wasn’t sure how much longer she could ignore it. Something about him was reeling her in— his aura wasn’t looking too bright at the moment, but she could just tell it usually was. She felt compelled to take away his pain, and she hadn’t spoken a single word to him yet. While he was placing his order, Y/N internally debated on whether or not she should “accidentally” graze his arm when they walked past each other. Would that be weird? What if she wasn’t able to redirect his negative energy elsewhere? While she did love to help whenever she could, some people’s emotional baggage was just a little too heavy. She didn’t know him. For all she knew, he could be a killer!

He turns back around once he’s finished ordering and stands by the entrance, out of Y/N’s way. The pair lock eyes again as Y/N makes her way back to the counter to order. Once again, he quickly looked away from her. Y/N’s trying to ignore the annoying nagging feeling she gets when she wants to help someone, but it’s unrelenting. She makes up her mind that once she’s done, she will approach this stranger to get a better read on his emotions. 

“Nice weather we’re having today, isn’t it?” She cringes at her choice of a conversation starter and hopes he doesn’t notice. Y/N folds her hands across her chest, forcing herself not to reach out to him. He nods.

“Lovely.”

The tone of his voice causes Y/N to wince. It was sharp and short. He was clearly not in the mood to converse. Although Y/N knows this, she continues on.

“I love this place. I think I come here at least twice a month–– what’s your go-to order?”

The man turns to fully face Y/N this time, his aura now more red than blue. He was beginning to grow annoyed with her small talk. 

“Green curry and stir-fried vegetables.” He doesn’t ask Y/N for her order, so she takes this as her signal to stop speaking to him. The bell above the door jingles, signaling another persons’ entry. Their aura is shining gold–– Y/N would not have to interfere. 

Y/N moves away from this man, deciding not to speak to him anymore. She was getting better at accepting the fact that no matter how much she wanted to, it was impossible to help everyone. As he collected his food from the front and turned to leave, not sparing Y/N another glance, she silently hoped that whatever was wrong with this man would not last.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Harry was in a funk. There was no denying it, and he was over feeling so terribly. He hadn’t been feeling like himself for far too long. It seemed like everyone wanted something from him when he had nothing left to give. Jeff had set unrealistic deadlines, his mother was upset with him for not calling enough, and he was exhausted from constantly traveling and waking up in a new time zone. Harry needed a break.

Harry’s mind wandered to the pretty girl in the Thai place. She seemed inquisitive. She was very curious about his go-to order, and she was standing a little too close for his comfort. Harry was surprised when she didn’t ask him for a picture. He wasn’t trying to be cocky, but nearly everyone he met asked him for a picture–– he was Harry Styles. However, it was almost like this girl didn’t know who he was. She didn’t seem starstruck in the slightest.

While Harry was waiting for the light to change, it dawned on him that he may have been a tad bit rude to her. He noticed her happy expression drop when he shut her down, but he didn’t feel like talking. He liked to move from place to place as quickly as he could in the off chance he got recognized and it started circulating on Twitter. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little bad. She was sweet like honey–– or so it seemed. In their brief interaction, she bought him comfort.

Harry wanted to turn back around and go back to the restaurant to check if she was still there. What would be the point, though? She would most likely be long gone by the time he made it back over there, as she did order immediately after him. Harry’s torn out of his thoughts when the cars behind him start honking, and he realizes the light must’ve turned green. He decides not to think about the confrontation anymore. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The world works in mysterious ways. 

Y/N was sure she’d never encounter the grumpy man from her favorite Thai restaurant again but yet here she was in another situation that involved take-out and him. His aura was dark indigo this time. Stress? Isolation? Y/N didn’t know, but she wanted to help him. In her eyes, there was no reason for anyone to be down this badly. She just wanted everyone to be as happy as she (almost) always was! She takes a deep breath before approaching him.

“Hi. How are you?”

Harry was absorbed in a text conversation involving his manager and stylist when a sweet, familiar voice interrupts him. 

“I’m okay, thank you. Yourself? Also, we’ve spoken before, I believe.”

She nods, a troubled look on her face. “We have. At the Thai place. How are you, though? Really.”

Harry was beginning to find her a bit strange (but still incredibly gorgeous, even more than he did before now that he got a good look at her face). Why was she so concerned with how he was feeling? Was she going to ask him for a picture or not? As Harry opened his mouth to again tell her he was fine, the desire to tell her how he was really feeling came over him. So he did.

“Honestly? ‘M exhausted. I’ve been doing a lot of traveling and my manager wants a lot from me. I think I jus’ need a break.” 

He radiated red. Anxiety? Anger?

“What do you do for work?” Now it was Harry’s turn to wear the troubled look.

“I don’t mean this to be rude, but you’re serious?”

Y/N nods, reaching out to place her hand on his shoulder. Just as quickly as she touches him she removes her hand, and she’s almost certain he didn’t even feel her touch. She notices him let out a visible sigh of relief, his aura changing from a red to a pale yellow. Optimism. Positivity. This causes her to let out her own sigh of relief. 

“You’re feeling better! That’s great.” Y/N was not able to redirect his negative energy as the restaurant was too crowded and she didn’t want to risk putting it on anyone else, and she was feeling him. He was stressed, overworked, and anxious. Y/N just wanted to go home and nap, no longer in the mood for the food she just ordered.

Harry decided she was definitely odd but in the most endearing way possible. “How do you know I’m feeling better? Wait, am I feeling better?” Y/N watches as he works through his emotions, his aura ranging in color before settling back on pale yellow. 

“Are you?” Y/N knows the answer to this of course, but she wants to hear him say it.

“I think I am. I’ve been feelin’ horrible all week but saying how I felt out loud to you automatically made me feel better. Kind of weird, but I won’t question it. Thank you for asking…,” Harry scrunches his nose, a distasteful expression on his face. “I don’t think ‘ve gotten your name yet.”

Y/N gives him a small, forced smile. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N. It’s nice to meet you. I’ll be seeing you around, I think.” Before Harry can tell her his name she’s gone.

And she didn’t even grab her food.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N felt like she had been hit by a ton of bricks. How one person could carry around all this emotional baggage was beyond her, but she wanted it gone. Immediately.

There was a spell Y/N kept on hand for times like these. Times when she couldn’t redirect the negative energy before it got to her. Times when it was just too much to carry. Y/N had regretfully done this spell more times than she could count and was an expert at reciting it from memory. The vile was open and ready to capture the negative energy that would shortly be leaving her.

Y/N works quickly to complete the process, unsure of what time her roommate would come barreling through the door. She had caught her doing things she deemed strange one too many times (she thought her roommate almost figured out who she really was when she caught her having a full-on conversation with her cat, Sapphire, once). She was beginning to run out of excuses for her “unusual” behavior. Y/N mutters under her breath, willing the energy to exit her.

She notices right away when it leaves her. She feels lighter— like her usual self again. She guides the energy into the vile and immediately seals it, hurrying into her room to lock it away. Y/N kept a box in her closet that she only opened if she had to. It was her Pandora’s Box, in a way. Nothing bad would be released into the world if she opened the box, but if the viles’ were opened then the bad energy she trapped would be re-released into the world, finding its way back to their original owners.

Y/N feels like she can breathe again once she bolts the box. She hoped that whatever he was doing, wherever this man was, he was still feeling okay. 

Also, for his sake and everyone’s around him, she hoped he got a break.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was on Harry’s mind. 

Something about her was magnetic. He wished he’d gotten more information about her than only her name, but she left him in such a hurry he could hardly process their conversation. Harry felt like a madman! He searched ‘Y/F/N Y/L/N’ on all social media platforms, but he couldn’t find her anywhere. It was dumb luck that he had ran into her twice in such a short time span, and he hoped good things happened in threes and he would see her again.

He was almost certain that Jeff thought he was losing his mind.

Harry tried explaining his interaction with Y/N first at the Thai food spot and again when he was getting Greek food, but Jeff thought Harry was so sleep deprived he was imagining things. 

“How did you see a beautiful, young woman who didn’t freak out or ask for a picture? Doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Styles.”

“That’s what I thought!” Harry exclaimed wildly. He holds his phone up. “I’m thinkin’ she really doesn’t know who I am, though. I couldn’t find her on any social media platform. It’s like she’s off the grid or somethin’.”

“No social media at all? A little weird, isn’t it?”

“It’s fitting for her. If you met her then you would understand what I meant,” Harry felt the need to defend this alluring stranger who took away his pain just by listening to him speak. “Look at me, Jeff. Don’t I seem so much better than I was jus’ a few days ago?”

His manager couldn’t deny that Harry’s mood (and attitude) had done a 360. He didn’t complain about being woken up early and he happily consented to do not one, but two interviews.

“I mean, yeah? I guess––”

“Thanks to her!” Harry cuts him off. “I’m telling you. I need to see her again and thank her for whatever she did.”

“How are you going to do that?” 

Harry leaned back against the counter in Jeff’s kitchen, mulling the question over. It was a valid one. How was he going to do that? He already tried to no avail to find her on social media. He hardly knew anything about her. All he knew was her name, that they seemed to have a similar taste in food, and that she went to the Thai spot at least two times a month. 

That was it.

In one last effort to contact Y/N again, Harry planned to go to the Thai food place, pray the cashier who was working when he went in earlier this week was there, and leave his number with her. It was a risky move, probably not the smartest thing he could do, and Jeff would for sure drop him as a client if he knew Harry was doing things like this. Harry didn’t care. Phone numbers could always be changed, and he was desperate. 

If Harry couldn’t contact Y/N, he would wait for her to contact him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N was confused.

She stopped at her favorite Thai food spot (sooner in the month than anticipated, but she had another long day), ordered her usual, and was about to leave when the sweet cashier who was always there insisted she takes the piece of paper with ‘HARRY’ followed by a phone number scrawled on it.

“For me?” Y/N was confused. Something like this had never happened to her before. I mean, does it happen to anyone?

“He insisted,” the cashier warmly responds. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back–– knew you would soon enough.” Y/N’s face flushes at this and she makes a mental note to start cooking more.

“Well…,” Y/N trails off, not sure what to say. “Thank you? I guess I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ve done well.” The cashier’s aura shines pink. Affection. Love.

“You should. Take care!”

Y/N leaves the restaurant with the crumpled piece of paper in her sweaty hands, eager to get home as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure what it was, but something told her not to disregard him. His reaching out was a sign–– and Y/N did not ignore signs.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“She hasn’t called me yet.”

“It’s been five days, Harry. She probably doesn’t eat Thai food every day. I can’t believe you did something so fuckin’ stupid…”

Jeff’s reprimanding fades into the background as Harry drifts off into daydreaming about what it would be like if– when- Y/N finally called him. Would she find him obsessed? What if she thought he was stalking her? Harry decided that when she called, he would immediately clear things up. He’d thank her for her kindness (his trademark) and see how she was doing. She left the Greek food place so abruptly when he last saw her that he was under the impression something was bothering her. Harry wasn’t sure what he could do to help if something was troubling her, but he could at least extend a listening ear to her as she did to him.

“Harry, are you listening?”

“What was that?”

Jeff shakes his head at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “Man, I hope she calls you soon.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The phone rang three times. After the third ring, his gruff voice came through the other end of the phone.

“Hello?”

Y/N sharply inhales, suddenly growing nervous. “Is this Harry?” Silence. Y/N was preparing to repeat herself when he spoke again.

“Is this Y/N?”

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to be silent. Harry says nothing, awaiting her response. “Well, it is. You sound familiar–– how do we know each other?”

“Now that ’m actually able to talk to you, it sounds a bit silly…” He seems unsure of himself. “Promise y’won’t laugh at me?”

“I promise.”

Y/N says it with such conviction that Harry believes her, and it gives him the confidence he needs to proceed. “I was havin’ a hard time a couple of weeks ago. I was in line to get some falafel and you asked me what was wrong. What was really wrong.” Y/N says nothing, so Harry continues.

“I told you I was exhausted from work ‘nd wanted a break. That’s it, y’know? But I immediately felt better afterward. I’ve actually been feelin’ great ever since. I jus’ wanted to thank you, is all. I know it sounds weird and it’s probably all in m’head but I feel like talkin’ with you was just what I needed.” Harry’s rambling, nerves finally catching up to him. She was gorgeous and he was afraid she would think he was insane. 

“I’m glad to hear you’re still feeling better, Harry. That’s great.” Y/N’s voice is gentle and soft and to Harry, hearing her speak was just as comforting as getting a hug from his mum.

“I’m also really sorry that I was such a dick when you tried talkin’ to me the first time at the Thai spot,'' Harry feels embarrassed, stumbling over his words. “Not sure if you remember but I was just havin’ a shit day. I thought you were gonna ask for a picture and I just wasn’t in the mood.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything and Harry winces, certain he’s offended her when she starts talking again. 

“That’s okay. I know you were having a bad day.” 

“How did you know I was having a bad day?” Again, Y/N pauses before answering. 

“Well, I didn’t do anything to you for you to be so rude to me. I knew it had to be a problem involving yourself.” Harry notices that Y/N speaks very slowly. It’s as if she considers every word before she speaks. He’s intrigued by her. 

“That is very true.” Y/N doesn’t say anything so Harry takes it as his cue to keep talking. “I’m sorry if me leaving my number at the restaurant creeped you out. I hope you didn’t feel obligated to call me.”

“Not at all. I’ve actually been wondering how you were doing since we had our encounter at the Greek place–– that doesn’t creep you out either, right?”

Y/N was hypnotizing. Harry was infatuated. 

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Course.”

“Why would I want a picture with you?”

Harry had to get to know her.

“Do y’wanna grab coffee sometime?”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Something was definitely different about Y/N–– Harry just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. To begin, she truly had absolutely no idea who Harry was. At first, he thought she was just messing with him, but he quickly realized she was being serious. Y/N said she had “heard of” One Direction, but she never listened to the band’s music. Harry supposed that could account for her being unaware as to who he was. Maybe he wasn’t a “household name” like Jeff always said he was. 

Harry was also right about her not having social media. When he asked Y/N why she didn’t use it, she said she preferred to occupy her time with more substantial things. She didn’t elaborate, and Harry didn’t ask. She was however very interested to learn what a big social media following Harry had. He tweeted the word “Do” and they watched as the internet went wild trying to decipher what he meant. He even started trending worldwide for it. It made sense to Y/N after that why Harry was so intent on not taking off his sunglasses and beanie.

Y/N was having a great time analyzing his aura. 

She noticed that whenever someone glanced in their direction, his aura briefly turned red. Anxiety. When Y/N attempted to make a joke, it turned pink (she chose not to analyze that too much). Mainly though, his aura shone that beautiful, pale yellow that Y/N loved to see the most. Harry was doing well. He was happy. Y/N would not have to intervene today.

She couldn’t explain why, but she felt obligated to help him. Even though his energy made her feel so terribly last time, she would’ve still taken away his pain if he was blue without even thinking twice about it. Why was she so drawn to him? Y/N wasn’t sure what it was about Harry that drew her in, but she knew she would do anything to help him. Anything to see him happy.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Harry felt the same way.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Y/N missed Harry terribly.

She wanted to call him–– just a brief conversation to see if he was doing okay. He mentioned when they last saw each other nearly two weeks prior that he was going to be very busy in the coming days, and she wondered if he still was. Harry told Y/N that he loved his job (of course he did!), but being so busy sometimes really hurt him. Not just mentally, but physically as well. 

She longed for him.

Y/N searched through her call list for Harry’s number and immediately tapped it, listening closely as it rang. She was about to end the call in defeat when Harry answered at the last moment.

“Hello?” He sounded tired, under the weather.

“Harry,” Y/N begins. “I haven’t heard from you in a bit and I just wanted to see if all was well. How do you feel?”

“Hi Y/N,” Harry perks up slightly, but he still sounds a bit congested. “‘M not sure if you can tell from m’voice, but I’ve got a cold.”

Although Y/N wishes with every fiber of her being that she could rid Harry of his cold, she cannot. However, she can make sure all is well with his mind. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she pauses for a moment as she usually does, hoping Harry can tell how sincere she’s being on the other end. “How do you feel though? Are you still feeling happy?”

“Jus’ feelin’ not the greatest again. I’ve been stuck in my house with this fuckin’ cold and haven’t seen anyone in days.”

“I can come over.” Y/N doesn’t think twice before offering. If he had to suffer physically, she at least wanted him to feel okay mentally.

“I don’t want to get you sick. It’s okay–”

“I don’t mind, really. I’ll keep you company.”

Harry doesn’t say anything and Y/N’s sure she must’ve creeped him out. They don’t even know each other well and here she was offering to come over to his home and keep him company while he was sick. She’s about to rescind her offer when he lets out a loud sigh.

“My manager might kill me if he finds out I did this… but sure, let me give you my address.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As soon as Harry got off the phone, he sprung into action. His home was a mess. There were crumpled up tissues all over the floor beside his bed, a sink full of dishes, and he’s pretty sure every bathroom in his house was a mess. He opted to not have anyone over to clean up after him as he didn’t want to risk getting anyone sick and man did it show.

He quickly gathered up all the tissues and threw them into the bin in the corner of his bedroom, surveying the rest of the mess before deciding he and Y/N wouldn’t be spending time in there, anyway. He was going to focus on the mess downstairs, instead. He loaded his dishwasher and record time and used disinfectant wipes on every surface he could in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. He then surveyed the bathrooms and cleaned the one with the least amount of mess, closing the doors to the other ones. He would worry about those some other time. 

Harry was nervous to have Y/N over. He was just nervous to be around her in general. He missed her over the past couple of weeks but he opted out of contacting her, terrified that he was a bother. After Harry finished cleaning in record time, it dawned on him that he didn’t really have any food prepared to offer Y/N. If she was coming over to his house just to cheer him up, the least he could do was offer her something to eat. Harry hated doing things like this, but he was desperate. He texted his assistant and asked if they could drop off some food from the Greek place he and Y/N liked, making a mental note to find out what other places she enjoyed eating at for next time.

Y/N gets to his house much sooner than he was anticipating.

He rushes to his front door, looking through the peephole before opening the door. Y/N has a big smile on her face and looks absolutely gorgeous, as she usually does. She has a huge water bottle in one hand and a tote bag with the phases of the moon slung over her shoulder. He’s never seen it before and thinks it’s lovely.

“Hi,” Harry says breathlessly. “Thanks for coming. Uh, come in please.”

Y/N smiles and takes a small step forward, crossing the threshold of Harry’s home. She thought it was incredible–– and rather clean. “What can I do to help?” 

Harry was getting used to Y/N’s straightforward approach to things, so he’s not phased by her question. “Jus’ you bein’ here is great, honestly.”

Y/N can see that Harry’s aura is that deep indigo that she’s not fond of, but she wonders if he can work through it himself before she steps in. “So it’s just your cold that’s got you feeling down? Can we sit down and talk about it?”

“Sure. Also, not sure if you’ve eaten yet or not but I’m gettin’ some food dropped off for us.”

“That sounds great, I haven’t had dinner yet so thank you. Can we sit?” Y/N doesn’t wait for Harry to answer. She makes her way to his plush couch in the adjoining room, walking through the place like she’s been there before. Harry loves it.

“I think I told you the gist of it on the phone earlier,” Harry says, settling onto the couch beside her. He leaves some space in between them since he doesn’t want to risk getting her sick, but he wishes he was closer to her. “I’ve been feelin’ down ‘cause I’ve been stuck in the house with this cold. S’not fun.” Y/N hums in understanding. Harry notices that she reaches out her hand to him slightly and then quickly retracts it, but he doesn’t mention it. Y/N says nothing, just continues looking inquisitively at him. Harry doesn’t feel uncomfortable under her gaze–– he stares back. 

“Something’s making you feel nervous. What is it?”

Harry isn’t surprised that she was able to figure out there was more to what he was feeling than just loneliness. How was he supposed to tell Y/N that she was the reason for his nervousness, though?

“It’s nothing. I promise.”

“I don’t think so.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck nervously. “How are you so good at reading me? S’like you’re inside my brain, Y/N.” He lets out a little chuckle after saying this but quickly stops when he realizes Y/N isn’t laughing along with him.

“You’re just easy to read,” she cooly responds after a second. “Why are you so nervous? Do you have something coming up for work?”

“Not really…” 

“Then what is it? Something going on with someone in your family?” 

Harry was quickly realizing Y/N wouldn’t drop this unless Harry gave her an answer. He silently hopes for the best before answering her. 

“It’s you,” he mumbles, shifting around uncomfortably on his couch. “You make me nervous.” Y/N watches as his aura changes from red and blue to pink, and his cheeks flush slightly. 

“Why do I make you nervous?”

“You just do.”

“Why? Have I done something to hurt you?”

Y/N was so painfully oblivious that it was cute. Harry was quickly realizing that his heart doubled in size every time he talked to her.

“No. Quite the opposite, actually,” Harry reaches in the pocket of his sweatpants for a tissue, facing away from her while he pauses to blow his nose. “You’re so… you’re jus’ very interesting. Mesmerizing, really.”

Y/N feels her skin heat up at Harry’s compliment. His aura is still shining pink, the brightest pink she’s ever seen since meeting him. She was sad to see there was still quite a bit of indigo and red, though. “Thank you. That’s very sweet of you.”

Before Y/N can stop herself, she reaches out to grab Harry’s hand. Immediately she feels his energy transfer to her and without thinking, Y/N flicks her finger out of force of habit. The beautifully potted Pothos that Harry has sitting on his television stand instantly droops, leaves turning brown and wilted. 

Harry’s completely perplexed.

The first thing he notices is that he’s feeling better. Great, even. He feels as good as he felt after the interaction he had with Y/N in the Greek food place all those weeks ago. The next thing he notices is that his gorgeous Pothos, a plant that is nearly impossible to kill, is dead.

And it was all Y/N’s doing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

please let me know what you thought!

[anathemafiction]

Point of Situation

Hello! It feels like it's been an eternity, so much has happened since my last progress report. And by so much has happened, I mean, The Rose has progressed so far since then. 

I sent the game with the new ending to my sister, and I wish I could share her reaction. She loved it so much more! Her texts made me so, so happy! 😄

Playtesting is done! I don't really have anything else I want to check out, my list of paths and choices I wanted to read is all crossed out and has been throw in the trash. What playtesting has made me realize, however, besides some lacking paths and choices here and there, is that there are A LOT of things I'm unhappy with - especially in the first 3 chapters. 

Things like page_breaks in the wrong places, and dialogues not quite fitting the characters - Alessa, specifically, has this problem. When I first wrote chapter one, so long ago, I didn't have the grasp of her character that I do now. Things like weak sentences - my English and my writing, in general, were so much worst back then. Things like confusing descriptions. 

I wasn't joking when I said that I can't look at the demo - I'm half tempted to take it down, that's how bad it is. I'll try to figure out a way to upload a new, shinier version but then that version would stop where I want the public demo for when the game is released to stop - at the end of chapter 3.

Playing this game, again and again, made me realize that I need to do an in-depth edit of the entire game. As in, reading the code while I play that section at the same time, to improve not only for the writing but also the flow of the pages and the choices. 

So, that's what I've been doing! I'm already in Chapter 3, and OOF, these first 3 chapters are by far, the ones that needed the most work. Chapter one, especially, is running so much smoother now, without those awkward and unnecessary page_breaks everywhere. Chapter 2 also had a big overhaul and I just found an error in chapter 3 that neither I nor any of my beta testers caught!! 

I'm going through the whole game with a razor-thin comb, and honestly, it's been surprisingly fun! I'm reading conversations and scenes that I wrote almost 2 years ago and while yes, the writing isn't the best, it's fun to look back at it. But, most importantly, I'm making the game worth it for people to actually pay money to!  

So, another checkpoint has been crossed! But, alas, it was not the last because I'm adding another. The final one:

Finish the second draft of chapter 8 and the new Epilogue.

Write all the suggestions/expansion of choices from my beta testers.

Put it all into code.

Do one week of extensive playtesting.

Do a deep edit of the entire game.

How long will this take? I have no idea. As I said, I'm editing chapter 3 - the first of the chapters to get to 100k words - so that means I've gone through 5 out of 23 files. I don't have a date to give, and I realize I should stop trying to give dates - but it's also worth noting that the other chapters won't give me as much work as the first three. I'm pretty sure I won't be making any substantial changes to chapters 6, 7, and 8, for example.

This might come as bad news to some, but I can assure you it's really not! This has been something I've been putting off because I dreaded the amount of work, but I can't put it off anymore. I have to do this. And now, I want to do it. 😄

I hope your week was great, and may you find rest on the weekend. 🌹

[rosesandtoshi]

Mated ✧ Kuroo Tetsurō

✧ Pairing: Alpha!Kuroo Tetsurō x Omega!Fem reader

✧ Warnings: smut, dom Kuroo, oral (f. receiving), biting, blood, and anything else I missed. As always. Minors. DNI. 18+.

✧ Word count: 997

✧ A/N: my second abo fic. Honestly, it’s meh. Thank you so much for the request anon! I really really appreciate you. As well as everyone else who reads my work. I see all of you. Since this is my first request, I may open them up soon. Just need to make a request directive and some rules and stuff. Hope everyone likes this! Also, none of my fics have been edited. I don't have a beta reader and I kind of suck lol. 

 ✧ ✧

You pulled up to the building of your best friend Kuroo Tetsurō. He said he needed some help with his work and of course you’d be there to help him. With take out in your hand, you made your way up to his floor and stepped out of the elevator. Everyone was gone for the night as it was late. You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” The voice said. You opened the door and were met with hazel eyes staring at you intently. You stared back him but before you could say anything he was immediately on you, smelling you up and down. “Your smell. It smells so amazing today.” You pressed you back against the door.

“Wait wait Tetsu. Hold on.” You said, putting your hands up and giving his chest a slight push. He grabbed your wrists swiftly and pinned them above your head, the food dropping on the floor. Your mouth hung low at the sudden gesture of your friend as he continued to nuzzle himself into you neck, marking his scent on you.

“Weren’t you ever taught not to disobey an alpha?” You couldn’t speak. You were in shock at how quickly Kuroo dominated you. You couldn’t help but feel aroused at what’s was unfolding. You and Kuroo had only ever been friends. Never anything more.

You realized he was in his rut. One hand moved up to cup your cheek as and he made you look at him. He licks his lips before smashing them against yours in a forceful manner. The hold your wrists tightened as he used one of his legs to part your thighs. You moaned as you felt his other hand moved over your clothed sex. You essence pooling out.

“Are you going to a good little omega and let your alpha do whatever he pleases?” You felt your body temperature rise as the familiar feeling of your heat beginning to start.

“Tetsu. what’s gotten into you?” You blurted out, finally able to find your voice.

“I can’t do it anymore. I need you. I want you. Need to be inside of you.” Kuroo said, his movements on your sex increasing, making you moan loudly. As sudden gasp left your mouth when you felt him pull your panties to the side and his long fingers started moving up and down your slit. You were thankful you wore a skirt that night. “Please. Tell me you want this as badly as I do. Please.” His fingers prodding at your aching core.

“Testu. Alpha. Please. I need you.” You said, looking him in the eye, your heat full blown by this point. He growled at you begging for him before his started to suck on your neck again. His hand finally letting go of your wrists. He motioned for you to take your shirt and bra off as he took of his shirt. He immediately attacked your chest, sucking and pulling on your nipples. The cold hit you back as you moaned and said his name over and over. He bit down on your nipple hard, making you cry out. You could see red as he lapped up the blood from your wound. Wetness poured into your panties as he slowly moved his face lower and lower. He grabbed your skirt and panties and pulled them down, making sure you didn’t fall as you stepped out of them. He lifted your right leg over his shoulder as he got on his knees. He inhaled deeply at your pussy, making you blush and hide your face.

“Don’t hide. You smell amazing. I bet you taste even better too.” Kuroo said, his hot breath slowly moving closer to your awaiting heat. Your breath quickened in your chest as he slowly stuck his tongue out and lightly licked your clit. You moan loudly as you felt his tongue start to increase its speed. You gasped when he bit your clit slightly, your hips jolting forward a bit. On hand moved up to your stomach to keep you place while the other moved up to your hole. He slowly pushed a finger in you, making you cry out even more. The way his tongue was on your clit and his fingers fucking you sent you over the edge. You cried and moaned loudly as you came all over his face. He rode your orgasm out as he cleaned up the mess you made. He set your shaky leg down before standing up and pulling his pants down. He grabbed you by your thighs and pulled you up to him. Your legs wrapped around waist and arms on his neck as he pushed you up against the wall. He cock snapped into you on one motion. The sudden feeling of being full with a fat cock has the tears talon down your face. All you could do was babble nonsense out as Kuroo thrusted up into you. His low growls of the way your tight pussy constricted around his cock had him wanting move. His face buried in your neck, his fangs grazing you scent glad as he suddenly bit hard, making you cry out his name as your second orgasm came crashing down on you. You panted as you got your fangs out and bit his neck as well. He grunted into you as he felt your pussy convulsing, triggering his own release.

“Cum in me alpha please. Want to be filled with you knot. Want to have your babies. Want to be your wife.” You moaned out. Kuroo grunted one final time before shooting his load into your womb. You clung to him tightly as he rode his orgasm out.

“I love you.” He whispered, his forehead on yours. “I’ve loved you for a long time.”

“I love you too, Tetsu. I’m all yours now.” You say as you nuzzle your face back into his neck, your purring soothing both of you. You couldn’t be happier to have mated your best friend.

[appreciatingtokrev]

saaame mizo mid <3 i was surprised too lmao but yw yw!!

aa ty :DD very true, yep but i would rather write angsty fics about him hehe

asgjgdhg tyy!! the theme of the fic (character a being alone & sad for probably around 1.5k words bc they can’t be with character b for reasons) is my speciality i feel like lmao i’ve written it too often but it kinda gives me high hopes for that one ngl

THANK YOU!! i was experimenting with pov and i thought maybe i could write a whole fic abt kakucho/mikey in sanzu pov or maybe switching pov between some bonten executives but then i realised that i wanted to describe kakucho’s & mikey’s feelings lmao so i scrapped it. but idk anymore tbh. also congratulations you just clicked the brainrot button! okay so kakucho projecting izana onto mikey obviously starts with him looking like izana lmao i mean look at him. you can’t tell me that sometimes, when kakucho is sleep deprived, he thinks it’s really izana for a moment and later on has a breakdown in private and then the projecting continues by the way he acts. i honestly haven’t really established izana’s personality in my head which is pretty sad ngl, i’m working on it tho. but i’m sure izana & mikey are similar personality wise which btw also makes the whole tenjiku arc all the more sadder bc of the whole family stuff- okay anyways. mikey. mikey’s projecting starts with kakucho’s personality. idk i feel like the kakucho who stays at mikey’s side is somewhat similar to teen draken. like, he’s there to protect him and stuff. he would absolutely carry him around when needed. kakucho doesn’t even do it on purpose but the longer he is with mikey, the more he reminds him of draken... and they do look somewhat alike, too, so yeah. with that established i think their projecting reaches a certain point pretty much at the same time, and then they subconsciously get closer to each other. that’s actually why i thought about writing it in a different pov- especially sanzu bc he was there for both mikey/draken and kakucho/izana. and one day he realises that they act like they only acted around draken respectively izana around each other & that they seem to become closer. oops that was long afhjdfhd uh also good fic about them. as a treat

aa once again ty ty!! me neither tbh like everything is at least good but non-linear narratives... <3 yes me too i wanna hug her and tell her it’s gonna be okay :( nope she isn’t,, she stayed & endured her whole life but at least she finally starts healing after kisaki’s death. also i may or may not have come up with familial hideko & hanma who get closer after kisaki’s death and i may or may not be a little insane about them whoops- (will tag you whenever i post it!! should be sometime this week depending on my beta but yeah :3)

the fic!! the diary of a boy who will never be missed <3 (quick warning, it’s unfinished n will probs stay that way sadly but i still love it very much)

random but btw i love your profile picture <3 okay anyways kakucho fics. i realised that i actually have THREE kakucho centric wips, not just two, which is a pleasant surprise but the third one only consists of a broad idea and one single sentence yet so sadly it doesn’t change much lmao.

warnings: as always angst 👍 also trauma mention plus suicidal thoughts and also talk of guns in the 1st one. also all three screenshots are different fics and only the 1st one has a title yet, which is ‘i’ve lost your war’ which are song lyrics i stole from pentatonix. also the plot of the 1st fic is that kakucho is uhm. a little depressed and traumatised after izana’s death, and while he seems fine on the outside and actually tries his best to heal he’s not okay at all and the healing doesn’t really work. give this man some therapy thank you. plot of the 2nd one is in the screenshot. 3rd screenshot is random bits and ideas for a kakucho/mikey fic in the bonten timeline in which they project izana respectively draken onto each other. first paragraph is sanzu pov but i think i wanna scrap that. tho ngl i quite like the last sentence in the screenshot. yk the one about them looking at each other they way only used to look at the person they love- i originally went for angst for that fic too but who knows maybe their unhealthy coping mechanism actually turns healthy and i am not cruel for once.

i’m sorry this is already long help take your time to answer if you need it BUT i also have some kisaki’s mother fic bits. i called her hideko in the fic which is a name somebody on ao3 came up with for her and i’m still waiting for them to tell me if i can publish my fic with her name being hideko or not bc it was their idea (i’m obviously crediting them) buut yeah. they’re the author of ‘the diary of a boy who will never be missed’ forgot their @ rn- anyways screenshots for you. include the beginning of the fic and some of my fav bits. have fun with the non-linear narrative (which is also how the fic is written btw i am a huge fan of non-linear narratives tbh) and even less context than the fic provides. also yes hideko’s a little fucked up blame it on her trauma and all the abuse she’s endured throughout her life

ty ty mizo mid means the world to me <33 THREE??? why i am really getting fed today thank u v much :P

firstly the title of wow like seriously thatz a really well thought of name, good job elys :DDD but yES please give this poor man some therapy for like everything hez been through like im begging for real

it may be short but that summary plus the one liner just made me brain explode/pos like oh my GOD i rlly wanna see that one seriously ehebehhe

I LIKE THIS ONE idk i kinda like sanzu's opening pov of it but like whatever you think is best of course. HMMMMMM THIS ONEEEEEEEEE i think its really interesting how you think mikey's projecting draken onto kakucho and youre seriously right so the whole basis of this fic is fascinating so im super excited to see how it goes

(hideko fic) oh its all good!! i'm not really picky with how stories are written but then again sometimes it just kinda slips my mind lol. but yeah uh i wanna give her a big hug rn. like bro. the poor thing. and i'm guessing she wouldn't be the type to run away cuz of her son ? god thatz a massive :( on my end. (pls show me more once you've finished it / published it)

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile II

Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!

Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx

Read part I here

Harry

“So… are we okay now?”

We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”

“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”

I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”

I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together. 

“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.” 

“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”

“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”

“I guess,” she says glumly.

I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.

Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.

Just like that. Without a fight.

I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself. 

“How’s your mum?” 

“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”

Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.

“Can I ask you something, daddy?”

“Anything, poppet.”

“Do you still get sad too?”

I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat. 

“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”

“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”

I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood. 

“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”

I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.

“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”

“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.

“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.

She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”

“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.

She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.

“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”

Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.

“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house. 

You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw. 

I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat. 

I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity. 

In hell.

And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse. 

I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.

And all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”

“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”

“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”

“That’s-”

“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.” 

“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”

“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?” 

Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.

I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.

“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”

“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”

“You chose to be there.”

“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.

“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”

“Harry, it’s too late.”

“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”

“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”

Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly. 

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past.  “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”

I nod.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”

“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”

I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful. 

“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”

I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush. 

But I don’t.

Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”

“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”

“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”

“When really…”

“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”

“Emma…”

“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.” 

I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen. 

But where do we go from there?

Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles. 

All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t. 

“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair. 

“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.

***

Emma comes from a big family. 

There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university. 

They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life. 

After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed. 

Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space. 

I hear voices as we walk inside.

“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.

Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”

“Oh.”

The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.

You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us. 

“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.

Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze. 

“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.

“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks. 

I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”

“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”

“FREYA!” Her dad barks.

Meg can barely contain her giggles.

“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes. 

The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.

Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”

“Luce,” Emma mutters.

“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.

“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.

“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.

“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”

The three of them nod in unison. 

“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk. 

“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”

We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away. 

Let’s just hope it stays that way.

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage. 

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside. 

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns. 

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster. 

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife. 

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.

“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.

Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.

“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”

“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.

“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”

“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes. 

“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”

“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.

The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry. 

“Don’t be sad, mummy.”

“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”

“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.

“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”

“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.

Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”

“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”

Emma

“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”

I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.

Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.

However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.

Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it. 

We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions. 

“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”

“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”

“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?” 

“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Very well-endowed.”

I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder. 

“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”

Both of them huddle into me like penguins. 

“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”

“Lovely. No.”

Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”

“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.

“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…” 

Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare. 

“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”

Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to. 

“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”

If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.

“Anything you might fancy or need?”

She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line. 

Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.

“Seriously?” She says.

“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”

“Like mentally?” I ask.

“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”

“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?

She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Show me your bush,” she orders.

“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”

“And we’ll wash them?”

Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.

“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”

“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”

I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”

“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”

“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”

I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.

“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”

“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”

“Do you want a shape?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”

“No!”

Meg roars with laughter.

“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”

I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.

“Thanks, Luce.”

“You don’t say this enough I feel.”

“We really don’t,” says Meg.

“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”

“I’m good.”

“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.

“Like?”

“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”

“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.

“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”

“That’s what condoms are for?” 

They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant. 

“How do I initiate it?”

“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”

“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”

“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”

Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?

“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.

“I haven’t got any condoms.”

Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?

“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.

“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”

I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.

“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”

He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.

“Crisps?”

Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”

Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”

I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird. 

“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.

And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates. 

“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.

“It can wait.”

My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra. 

Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.

“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed. 

In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.

You know what, sod it. 

I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips? 

I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now. 

I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?

I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that. 

“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.

I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”

“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”

“Is it your ex-husband?”

He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud. 

“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”

“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“I’m worried.”

“And what are you worried about?”

“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”

What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London. 

Harry

It was a knock on the door that woke me up.

When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

“Emma?”

She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”

She takes a step back instead.

“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.

“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.” 

She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.

“I don’t think I can.”

So I go to her. 

The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.

I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”

The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”

“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”

I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”

Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”

I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years. 

We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough. 

I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”

Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine. 

And we go in out of the rain.

I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands. 

“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”

“A while. I was walking… thinking.”

“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”

Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back. 

“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?” 

Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”

“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”

“Please spare me the details,” I beg.

“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”

Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.

“Oh, Ems…”

I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her. 

For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.

“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.

I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs. 

Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.

I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.

My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place. 

“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.

She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.

“Yer a bloody ice cube!”

She laughs kind of evilly. 

We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.

“Talk to me,” she says softly.

“I’m taking time off work.”

“But you never take time off work?” 

“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”

I see her smile in the dim light.

“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”

This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.

My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”

“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”

“A puppy, huh?”

“A puppy.” 

“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”

“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”

“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?” 

“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”

We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm. 

“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep. 

“Hmm?”

“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”

And I’m done.

The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me. 

***

Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon. 

We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.

“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”

“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”

It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.

When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.” 

She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.

“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”

“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.

I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”

“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”

Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”

She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable. 

Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”

She moans softly in my ear.

“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.

Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”

“My face between your legs.”

***

Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs. 

Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.

We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus. 

Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin. 

“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”

“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”

“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”

“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.

I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”

“I’m serious.”

“You sound like Austen.”

She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”

She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”

“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”

“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”

“Not true-”

Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”

“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”

Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.

“Wanna dance?”

The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.

We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.

“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.

“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”

She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.

“Emma?”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love… 

***

“What the-”

“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”

“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.

Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?

And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.

I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.

“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.

“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask her. 

Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”

I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.

“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.

“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”

“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”

In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious. 

“Duly noted.”

“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”

“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.

“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”

“Have you got your Aladdin?”

She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”

Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.” 

***

A month later…

I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.

The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.

I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.

I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way. 

Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.

I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely? 

I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute. 

Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy. 

I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?

I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.

I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.

In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.

Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.

Finally, I say, “surprise!”

Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”

“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”

That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.

I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am. 

I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”

“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.

“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.

“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.

Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”

“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”

“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”

“Deputy Dawg?”

“Bark Twain?”

We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.

SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.

“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”

“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.

“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

We laugh.

“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”

Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen. 

It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.

Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck. 

Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.

“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing  their parents hugging.”

Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”

She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.

“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.

“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.

Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”

That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.

After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.

Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”

Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”

I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”

She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”

Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Oh, I will,” she teases.

“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.

Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.

Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.

“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.

“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.

“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”

“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time. 

Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”

Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.

“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage. 

All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms. 

I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”

When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”

“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff. 

I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on. 

Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”

“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.

“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”

“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.

“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”

We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”

“You what?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”

I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile. 

“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”

“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.

“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”

“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”

I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”

George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”

“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”

They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.

“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.

Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”

***

Emma

“Gary! This way, Gary!”

Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.

My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”

“Hell, why not.”

Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters. 

 “Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.

We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.  

“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”

I nod. “I do.”

“The view was decent,” he grins. 

“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”

“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”

“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”

We laugh.

I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me. 

“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”

“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.

We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air. 

Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.

“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking. 

“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”

“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”

He progresses to a light canter. 

“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.

“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”

A car flashes us. 

I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car. 

Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.

I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.

“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.

“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”

“Gary,” the kids say in unison.

“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.

“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”

“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”

“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”

Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume. 

“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”

“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.

The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.

“Give our regards to June,” I say.

“Will do.”

He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.

I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.

“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”

I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents. 

“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”

There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.

***

“Are you calling my turkey dry?”

I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.

“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.

I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper.  I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.

I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.

“A mince pie.”

“With cow mince?”

“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.

Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”

She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce. 

“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.

Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.

My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator. 

We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season. 

“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”

“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.

“That’s called Christmas milk.” 

“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.

“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”

“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.

“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.

Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling. 

It’s time.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?” 

I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”

-

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