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#i’m forever in love with ‘first’ meetings i cannot help myself. can’t help writing about winter in spring too apparently
loveinhawkins · 1 year
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There’s a table in the school library that’s nestled in the corner, right by a radiator; Steve has claimed it ever since his double block of ‘private study periods’ began.
Not that he’s planning on doing any studying: it’s the last day of school before the winter break, and while his face has healed up from the whole Billy Hargrove Incident, he still finds himself feeling wiped at random—like his body’s having a delayed adrenaline crash ever since he pulled Dustin out of that freaky vine-infested tunnel.
So really, this spot should be ideal for a couple hours of not having to think.
And it would be perfect, if his eyes weren’t instinctively drawn to movement at the front desk.
Because for the past god-knows-how-long, Eddie Munson has been in a back-and-forth with the librarian.
It had started when he ambled up to the desk with a healthy pile of books in his hands, placed them down neatly, all ready to be stamped. Flashed a charming smile.
Steve was too far away to hear the words, but he got the gist that whatever the librarian had said amounted to no, absolutely not, because Eddie scooped the books back up, dumped them on a table a little distance away from Steve’s, then hemmed and hawed before returning to the desk with a more modest pile than before.
He was sent away again with presumably the same refusal, and so the pattern repeated until this very minute: he’s returning with just one book in his hands, his smile less charming now, more desperate.
But… no luck.
Eddie slouches back to the table in defeat. Just stands there, staring down at the books.
And goddamn it, Steve thinks, now he’s invested.
“Hey. Munson,” he says in an undertone. “What’s up?”
He doesn’t miss the weird kind of double take Eddie gives him, but at least Steve knows it’s not because of his face being a mess this time—seriously, drawing looks from students when all he wanted was to get in line for crappy cafeteria pizza had not been fun.
“Nothing,” Eddie says with a shrug, and he flashes another wide smile that makes Steve think bullshit. “Apparently I racked up a mountain of late fees. Who knew?” He sighs, glancing at his wristwatch. “Guess I’ve got enough time to just read the—oh. Um. Hey?”
“These books?” Steve confirms, having already stood up to look at them.
Eddie blinks a few times. “Yeah, these—uh, Harrington, what the fuck do you think you’re—?”
Steve heads over to the front desk with the books. It’s not all that difficult of a decision to make; he remembers Tommy H had his own library late fees in freshman year, but got nothing more than a simpering, “Just make sure it doesn’t happen again, sweetie,” just because his mom knew someone on the school board.
“For checking out, please,” Steve says, not bothering with a smile as he hands over his library card.
The only resistance he gets is a raised eyebrow from the librarian before all the books are stamped.
“What the fuck,” Eddie says, voice flat; he doesn’t take the books when Steve tries to give them to him, so Steve just shrugs and goes back to his seat, sets the books pointedly on the edge of the table.
“Look, man, it’s up to you, but I’m not gonna take them. They’ll just be sitting here.”
Eddie huffs. He goes over to the books, his hand twitching towards them before drawing back, like he’s at war with himself.
“You—you didn’t have to do that,” he gets out as if it physically pains him to do so.
Prickly, Steve thinks.
“It’s no big deal,” he says. “My account’s gathering dust, so someone might as well get the good of it.”
At hearing that, Eddie looks a little less defensive. He chews on his lips for a few seconds, then says, his tone serious, “Harrington, I’ll—I’ll forget. Like, with the holidays… like, I guarantee you, even if I write a million fucking reminders, I’m gonna take these books and forget to bring ‘em back for months.”
“Oh, no,” Steve says dryly, “lemme go alert the press, I just heard a blatant confession to a crime. Dude, just take them, what do I care if your homework takes you months to—”
“It’s not even for school,” Eddie interrupts through gritted teeth, “it’s dumb, it’s just—”
“Jesus Christ. Lemme call the press again, sounds like you’re reading a book for fun.”
Eddie stares at him. Steve raises an eyebrow in challenge—he could do this all day; just the other week, he’d beaten Mike in a brutal staring contest that felt like it went on for hours.
Eddie breaks first. “Fine,” he says with another huff, but he’s less agitated when handling the books—lingers thoughtfully on their titles, puts a couple in his backpack. The rest he opens at seemingly random parts, but it looks like he knows what he’s searching for.
And then it seems as if he’s just going to pick up the remaining books and walk away—Steve expects him to, honestly—but he ends up staying where he is, gives Steve a look of consideration, almost like he’s a book worth reading, too.
“You stole my table, you know?” Eddie says.
“Uh, no,” Steve says automatically, then adds with more confidence, “I was definitely here first.”
Eddie snorts. “Nope. My senior year, uh,” he shrugs self-deprecatingly, “the first time around. That was my spot. Was pretty possessive over it too, think I signed the table, like, underneath.”
Steve’s eyebrows rise in interest; he runs a finger along the underside of the table and soon feels it: an E.M scratched into the wood.
“Huh,” he says. “Guess you’re right.”
A pause.
And then Steve surprises himself.
“There’s, um, room here, if you want? I’m not gonna use the whole table.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. There’s a long enough silence in which Steve considers just telling him to forget about it, but then—
Eddie sits down opposite him.
It’s not as awkward as Steve was expecting: Eddie seems focused enough on his books, on bringing out a battered looking journal with sheets of paper that look like they’re hanging on by a thread. He roots around his backpack some more, retrieves a ballpoint pen with a quiet, triumphant, “Aha!”
He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve isn’t even making an attempt to look busy; his own side of the table is bare.
“Didn’t know you were left-handed,” Steve says after a moment.
Eddie looks up from his note-taking. He smirks, waggles his eyebrows briefly. “Fitting, huh? Spooky.”
“Oh, I’m terrified.”
And Eddie actually laughs—hushed, but it still counts as one.
He soon returns to being absorbed in whatever it is he’s writing, which means Steve has less of a distraction when the familiar wave of tiredness washes over him.
He tries to sit up as well as he can, conscious of the fact that he’s not alone, but the radiator is the perfect temperature, and the steady scratch of Eddie’s pen has a soporific effect. He’s distantly aware of the fact that his head is nodding down with dwindling energy to try and stop it—hears Eddie’s voice, as if from very far away, rising in question.
Steve sniffs sharply, jerks his head back up and blinks hard. “What?”
“Oh, sorry,” Eddie says quickly, and he sounds genuine. “Didn’t know you were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t,” Steve says.
“Uh, okay,” Eddie says. His lips twitch. “That was an awfully long blink then, Harrington.”
“Shut up,” Steve retorts mildly. He stretches slightly, hides a yawn behind his hand. “Did you actually want something or—”
“Nah, wasn’t important.”
Steve frowns, unconvinced. The side of Eddie’s left hand is covered in ink, and Steve can see where his pen has started to die on him as his writing gets more faded across the page.
Steve puts a hand in his pocket, brings out another ballpoint and throws it at Eddie.
The pen bounces along the table, and Eddie manages to catch it one-handed.
“Good catch,” Steve says.
“Thanks,” Eddie says. He sounds almost uncertain.
Silence falls. It only takes another minute or two of hearing Eddie writing away for Steve’s determination to stay awake to waver again. He slumps forward with a mumbled, “M’just gonna…” and lays his head down.
Eddie stops writing.
“Hey, man, are you… okay? Like, if you feel… if you wanna go home I could take you to the nurse? Or—”
“I’m fine,” Steve says into his folded arms. “S’just… the aftermath of… stuff. No big deal.”
“Oh?” Eddie says tentatively.
Steve lifts his head up a bit, squints dubiously. “C’mon, Munson. You must’ve heard the rumour mill.”
Billy Hargrove had spread it all over the school, how he had ‘taught King Steve a lesson.’ In all honesty, Steve hadn’t cared all that much about how he himself came across in whatever story Billy created, was just relieved that at least Max and Lucas’s names had been kept out of it.
“I don’t put much stock in rumours,” Eddie says carefully. “Folks can say… all kindsa things.”
Steve nods faintly. Fair point.
“Okay, but you can take a little bit of stock in this one. Like, a smidge.”
Steve demonstrates with his thumb and forefinger.
It’s only when Eddie doesn’t smile in response that Steve realises he’d been hoping to make him laugh again. Maybe.
“Huh. Well. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”
“What for?” Steve says tiredly.
“Harrington. I’m not stupid, y’know? That was more than a… a stupid fight after school or something. Like, I can remember what your face looked like.”
“Gee, thanks.” Steve sets his head back down, closing his eyes.
“I didn’t—I just meant whatever it was, it… it went too far. Way too fucking far.”
Steve yawns again, doesn’t bother hiding it. “Yeah. Something like that.”
He’s resigning himself to the thought of waking up with a stiff neck before Eddie sighs and says, “If you’re gonna sleep, Harrington, don’t be an amateur about it.”
Steve looks up in time to see Eddie reaching underneath the table with one leg, hooking his ankle round the empty chair next to Steve and shoving it closer to him.
“Three or four’s probably the best amount for stretching out on,” Eddie says. “Uh, speaking from experience.”
Steve smiles. “Noted.”
He manoeuvres himself until he’s lying much more comfortably across the seats, using his backpack and coat as a pillow.
Frustratingly but predictably, despite his fatigue, sleep doesn’t come easily, so Steve looks underneath the table and asks, “What’re you writing about, Munson?”
He can see Eddie’s boots, how one foot is tapping away, as if in time to a song no-one else can hear.
“Um, I was just… getting inspiration for… it’s kinda like. Like a story, but—”
“Don’t hurt yourself, dude,” Steve says, “I know what a campaign is.”
The foot tapping stops.
“Aren’t you just full of surprises?” Eddie says.
He sounds a bit far away again, though Steve knows that’s just in his head; he can feel his eyelids drooping.
“You’ve got…” He sighs, voice trailing off as he finishes, “No idea…”
Eddie launches into a speech; Steve can follow it well enough for a little while, Eddie rambling about the kind of decisions he thinks his players will make in the game, but eventually the words become a blur, and he drifts off just like that, into an unexpectedly peaceful sleep.
He wakes with the lightest of touches to his shoulder, a soft, “Steve?” that nevertheless makes him jolt to full alertness in a blink, reaching for a bat he doesn’t currently have.
“Jesus Christ!” Eddie yelps, almost falling back against the table. “What the hell kinda military training d’you have, Harrington?”
“Just have good reflexes,” Steve says, hopes it sounds casual enough as he breathes through his suddenly racing heart.
“Yeah, that’s one way to fucking put it. Anyway, uh. Sorry, didn’t mean to, like, startle you, but you slept right through the bell, man.”
Steve sits up; the library is empty apart from them, the librarian shooting them a not so subtle glare. And he realises that while everyone else was rushing out of school, eager for the holidays to start, Eddie must’ve stayed. Waited for him.
Steve runs a hand through his hair, quickly puts on his coat.
“God, sorry, you didn’t have to—if I’ve made you late, I’m—”
“Nah, don’t sweat it.” Eddie puts his backpack strap across one shoulder. “I wasn’t in a hurry. Um, are you… like, good to drive? I can give you a ride, if—”
“I’m okay,” Steve says, struck by the consideration behind the offer. He means what he says though; he feels pleasantly refreshed. He smiles self-effacingly. “Think I need one class where I can just sleep, and then I’ll get through the day.”
Eddie gives a playful scoff. “That’s already a thing, Harrington, it’s called first period.”
They walk out of the library together, and Steve finds that it’s kind of… nice, honestly. He keeps waiting for some awkwardness to creep in again, but it never does.
“Big holiday plans?” Eddie asks, smalltalk that should be stilted, but it just sounds like he’s sincerely interested in the answer.
Steve shrugs. “Not really. Oh, I’ve got—you know the Snow Ball thing tomorrow, at the middle school? There’s this kid I know, I’m gonna give him a ride there, but—”
Steve breaks off with a fond shake of the head, knowing that there’s this kid I know doesn’t really give it justice, doesn’t say the full truth: that Dustin Henderson has somehow wormed his way into Steve’s goddamn heart forever.
“His mom’s invited me over for dinner tonight,” he continues. “Think he wants, like, a dress-rehearsal of his outfit or something, which is probably the closest he’ll ever come to admitting he’s nervous. I kinda feel for him, honestly. God, do you remember being thirteen? Everything seemed to matter so much, and most of it was just… stupid shit.”
They’ve reached the parking lot, and Eddie gives Steve a sideways look with a bemused smile.
“Woah, Harrington, we’re still in school, remember? Don’t think we’re meant to sound so world-weary yet.”
Steve chuckles. “Yeah.” He gestures at Eddie’s get-up. “Bet you’ve never once cared about the stupid shit, though.”
What people think.
Eddie’s smile turns more knowing. “Shockingly, Harrington,” he says, “I didn’t come out the womb like this.”
They both hesitate; they’re at Steve’s car now, Eddie’s van parked in a space that’s further away. There’s no reason, really, for the conversation to continue any longer.
But Eddie still lingers.
“Uh, enjoy your dinner, I guess. If the… dress-rehearsal goes shit, just tell the kid it’s good luck for the real night.”
Steve laughs. “He’s in the Drama Club, so that might work, actually. Thanks, Munson.” He opens the car door as Eddie nods, starts to head off to his van. Seized by a sudden impulse, Steve calls, “Happy holidays!”
“Yeah, you too.” Eddie turns, tapping at his temple exaggeratedly. “Won’t forget about the books, I promise.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “You better not,” he says, tongue-in-cheek.
He starts the car and heads for Dustin’s house, honks the horn when he drives past Eddie’s van, catches Eddie waving.
Steve thinks he quite likes the idea (regardless of whether it’ll put his library account in jeopardy), of the books finding a permanent home at Eddie’s place. Briefly imagines Eddie writing with an ink-stained hand, curled up safely in a world of his own—where the only monsters are the ones that live in between the pages.
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astrologanize · 10 months
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have been in a massive funk (depressive episode?) that i haven’t experienced to this severity since 2016 and if anyone can relate then i figured i’d share what i have been doing to help with that
- invested in vitamins (magnesium glycinate, calcium, d3) since i’ve been having skin issues i have been avoiding the sun since i don’t want to go through the process of trialing sunscreens and seeing what does & doesn’t work, potentially worsening said issues smh. but i recently said fuck it and got some neutrogena  baby sunscreen that’s fragrance free and all that jazz because it’s supposed to be gentle and it is affordable and neutrogena has worked for me in the past so why not. i purchased another sunscreen months ago but i don’t think my skin was a fan of it because it was a lil burn-y and tingly after application, thankfully i tested it on my arms first and not my face. idk we’ll see. such is life
- also trying to take more notice in the foods that make me feel good and provide me with energy/mood boost! and mostly avoiding foods that aren’t worth the accompanying lethargy or upset stomach, but listen...your taste buds matter...so if a food is enjoyable for me and makes me happy then any *mild* discomfort in the aftermath is worth it in moderation from time to time 
- i’m doing a 30 day mindfulness challenge! and that’s lovely! you can look them up and pick whichever provides you with what you feel you’re most in need of. writing down what you are grateful for and focusing on the positives of what is happening in your life also never hurts
- i’ve been clearing out any spaces that need it. even on my annoying ass phone...i’ve been transferring anything i want to save onto a usb and it is a time consuming process that i’m trying to do in increments but i know it’s going to feel great once i have my phone as cleared out as possible so i can start saving new memories & momentos (: 
- choosing to shorten my work week by 1 day so that i am able to have a free day on the weekend to fill my personal cup of happiness!! because that is always worth it!!!!!! i shall budget accordingly but i am grateful to be doing so
- “look good feel good” except looking good to me is more about feeling comfortable in my own skin and clothing. i hate putting on a constricting outfit that may look good but makes me feel like i can’t move around freely and enjoy life. outfits that do make me feel good about the way i am presenting myself that also allow me to move freely are the goal! and hygiene is important. some days i feel lazy as hell and don’t want to do the stuff that i know makes me (feel) better but i do it because i know it makes me (feel) better...once in a while tho it’s like lol nah imma let myself be stagnant and not do that for a moment and the world will not end, i won’t feel as great but that’s okay...eventually i will resume maintaining what i need to and perk up. it’s okay to stop for a moment sometimes but ya gotta get back on it 
- really trying to keep in mind that every day is a new unlived day that is not meant to look exactly like the last and you cannot always expect your best to look the same. there’s always going to be emotions that come up, mishaps, life interference, and challenges that meet you along the way and that’s how it’s meant to be. we shall control what we can and adapt how we must. you just keep trying! some days we need to ask more of ourselves even when we don’t want to and other days we need to allow ourselves a true rest that offers nothing but peace; some days we make progress, some days are stagnant, some days we regress, and that’s all just...life
sometimes it’s nice to recognize that wow i’m sad today or today is hard for me and allowing yourself to simply have a sad, gentler day to yourself without feeling like things are shit forever - hell, sometimes it’s multiple days or weeks that are off but you gotta know your sun is going to shine again and maybe the off-ness is redirecting you for the best. follow your heart, breathe, take your time when you can and make time when you can, try to persevere without driving yourself up the wall, all the hard work you put in and progress needs to be enjoyed, your life is meant to be enjoyed, it’s okkkaaaayyyyyyyy. tend to your heart and express your heart and embolden yourself with an accepting & firm love - accept all that you are and are not but don’t let yourself believe that you are defined by what you think you lack and that there is no room for you to grow. stand strong in your heart and in your character 
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zadien · 2 years
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✏️ The first fanfiction you ever wrote? (doesn’t have to be a posted fic)
💻 The first fanfiction you posted?
👽 Strangest fic you ever written?
👀 What’s an idea you had for a fic that you never did anything with?
🏚 A fic you more or less abandoned?
💩 The scene you hated to write the most in -insert fic-?
🪜 Tell us a random fact about any fic!
🎨 Show us a sneak peek from a WIP!
✏️
Okay! So first fanfic I actually wrote was a secret seven type fic (I didn’t know what fanfiction was but this story was heavily influenced by The Secret Seven, back when I limited access to books) and I used all my classmates to be part of this secret club that solved mysteries in rural donegal. Soon my classmate found out - being that I was like 8 or so, and they then tried to hijack the story. Which was when I realised that no, I did not want to insert real people into my stories and I wanted to write something else instead. Ever since I’ve never included people I actually know or named characters after people I knew. It was a very traumatic moment in my childhood XD
💻
That would have to be a card captor Sakura one I think and I can’t even remember it anymore. I know Love/Hate: Just how thin is the Line came a few weeks later. I’m genuinely not sure if SLTS under the name Ice Queen came before L/H or not. I think it might have, got dropped after one chapter and then I came back much later to write more once I understood my version of the characters better.
👽
Probably the Mariam meets a Mary Sue fic. It was very tongue in cheek and just… not great. I’ll probably end up deleting it at some point. There’s possibly worse. I haven’t looked. I’m too scared. I’ve been writing fanfic for too long and finishing none of it.
👀
I’ve answered this one previously. I honestly can’t remember now. Oh, there was a werewolf fic at one point, and possibly Kai as a demon when all those twilight/pnr novels were the thing. Oh! And some Zerith plot lines that I just don’t have the bandwidth for. Maybe after CCR. Maybe.
🏚️
LMAO! Oh dear. All of them? Dubh Croi. That’s been abandoned with the hopes that I’ll come back to it with a better brain, a more structured plot and original characters. I love the idea of it, but I wrote myself into a wall with it and I just could not fix it. And there’s so many problems with it now, I just think it would work better as an original novel rather than a fanfic. But I keep it up because people liked it, and I can understand why. I enjoyed it a lot.
💩
Hmm, there is a scene in SLTS where Kai’s dad and Amber’s dad, who are friends but very different dad’s, meet up and Kai’s dad has to give Amber’s dad some dadvice. It took me forever to write it. I have about six different drafts. I hated it, so much but it was so important and I needed to get it right. I’m proud of it now, but dear god the agony of pulling that scene together still sticks with me. Icky. I imagine it will be destroyed by the TyHIl ghost fic because I have to include one of my greatest fears in it. I’m not sure how I’ll cope with that.
🪜
Despite loving Cloti so much and writing Fall Ball Fling for them, Zack and Aerith are the ones I have tons of plot bunnies for but which I cannot find the time to write. And they also have a much more interesting backstory that Cloti in Fall Ball Fling BUT that’s also because I don’t want to give Cloud and Tifa more drama because they had enough in the games. I just want them to dress pretty and dance.
🎨
From Fall Ball Fling: Some big bro Zack vibes.
“You don’t need to wear a dress,” Zack said, rising to his feet and approaching Cloud cautiously. “We’re just going to clear some space and I’ll teach you how to slow dance, with Jessie’s help.”
Jessie smirked. “Make sure you keep your hands above the waist when you’re dancing with Tifa, but you can touch me wherever you—“
“Not happening.”
“Jessie,” Zack warned. Waving her away, he stepped in front of Cloud, blocking his view of the girl/demon incarnate. He placed his hands on Cloud’s shoulders, a comforting weight. “Look, this is everything you wanted, right? And you want the dance to be special? So come on, do it for Tifa. She’s worth it, right?”
Thank you for the ask!!
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cheekygreenty · 3 years
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Hi, I just saw your prompt list for Shadow&Bone!! could you possibly do No. 2 from Angst, but like with a happy ending? Like reader n Kirigan are togeather but then Alina's comes along.. just, please let be happy at the end. I like angst, but my heart can't handle sad endings 😢😢 thank you!!! ❤❤
Future- The Darkling x Reader
(Very very angsty with a happy (?) ending. It made me cry a lil bit writing it ngl)
You trusted him, wholeheartedly. At least that's what you told yourself every day since she came to the Little Palace; the place you had always called home, where you felt safe from the prying eyes of the public.
Yet now, the place was fueled by harsh rumors of him and her. Everywhere you went you could hear a whisper, nobody tried to hide it anymore, the words were always entirely devoted to your crumbling union;
'I thought they were happy'
We were.
'How can he and Alina not be together, it's destiny.'
I'm starting to think so too.
You didn't acknowledge it. Just put on a sweet smile and a brave face. Don't let them see you're hurting. Even in your own home, you had to pretend and lie, which at the end of the day, when you laid in an empty bed, made you exhausted.
He told you she meant nothing more to him than a mere weapon. But that was when she first came and when he still managed to make it to your shared chambers and would whisper sweet nothings as you fell asleep.
It was different now, on more than one occasion you caught a glimpse of them together, him looking at her the way he always looked at you. However much he claimed to be a good actor and manipulator, there was something there and he couldn't deny it either.
You hadn't confronted him about it yet fearing that if you did, the truth would hurt and sting and make all those rumors true. In addition, you haven't seen him in days and the last time you did, he told you to stay away from the wonderful Sun-Summoner.
The truth was you knew deep down in your heart that she wasn't at fault. That she was not the root of the problem. You constantly fought with yourself to stop any hatred you felt towards her. She was lovely, kind compassionate, and innocent. She didn't deserve to feel your wrath.
But with that came the confusion of who to blame. You or Him. It made you tired and weak. The smallest of tasks made you drained and tears would well in your eyes at the thought of having to live another day like this, a day full of questioning yourself and the man you loved more than anything in the world.
No matter how much of a strong person you swore you were, this was taking a substantial toll on you. He had become your support network and he knew it, he loved it. He always said he finally felt appreciated when you came around, that he wasn't alone anymore. He had conditioned you to be this way. When times got tough, he was always your shoulder to cry on.
No doubt that shoulder was now next to Alina. Perhaps they went on a horse ride, visited the Black Heretic fountain, or were enjoying a rendezvous next to the lake.
You didn't want to know, all that mattered was that he wasn't there with you when you were falling apart. Maybe you relied on him too much.
You wondered if he noticed the whispers too, or the way you'd been missing crucial meetings, or even if he noticed you wearing your red kefta more often, ditching the black once you'd heard Genya speak of making a golden-black kefta for Alina, per the Darkling's request.
That was a punch in the gut. It hurt more than him avoiding conversation with you or even his deterrence of touching you. He had bestowed his colors to her when not even three months ago he didn't know she existed. It had taken you a long time to gain his trust and don his signature black yet all she had to do was waltz in and show up. And it hurt.
And now here you were, training the next generation of heartrenderers, as you did almost every day. You had given your life to the Little Palace and its Grisha and this is how you were being repaid. Not even Ivan, who you had shaped into an excellent soldier, had looked your way lately.
'Excuse me Ms. Y/L/N I have an urgent request from the General' You whipped your head around to the young Grisha boy with an obviously hurt look on your face which he couldn't understand.
'Of course' you choked out and took the piece of paper from his hands and watched him in sorrow as he left.
Ms.Y/L/N? what happened to moya sovereignny? You were never one to uphold the formality, but this was just another blow to your confidence. You were no longer referred to as his other half which only meant your position in the palace was quickly dwindling.
You opened the wax-sealed envelope and took out the thick sheet of paper. There was a time when he himself would deliver the news to you himself and use it as an excuse to spend extra time with you.
'I cannot make it to the meeting with the King this evening, attend and report back to me anything relevant, no horse business'
You scoffed loudly, drawing attention from the young Corporalki around you and leaned on the table in front of you. Not even a please or thank you. With the note clutched in your hand and tears of frustration in your eyes, you stormed out of the Corporalki room and towards his war room.
You peeked through the open door and seen him. He didn't look at all busy as he chatted with Zoya, Ivan, Fedyor, and some other Squaller you didn't recognize. Zoya threw her head back in laughter at something Fedyor said but Aleksander kept his stony expression. You threw the door open dramatically and everyone froze.
'Leave us' you cautioned as Aleksander's onyx eyes looked right into your own.
Nobody moved but Zoya was the first to speak ' Y/N, we're actually in a meeting if you couldn't tell' while everyone nodded along, except him.
You never had anything against anyone in that room, but in that moment you couldn't help yourself and used your small science to bring everyone to their knees in front of you, except him.
'Leave us' His voice rang out in the midst of their sharp breaths and chest-clutching. They scrambled to their feet and left one by one, Fedyor quietly muttering 'moya sovereignny' as he passed you which filled you with some courage. The door shut and the sound echoed over the walls.
You threw the note across the room and let it hit his arm. 'Did you forget your manners General? Or does it only apply to the people you claim to love?'
'Funny you should say that Y/N, you haven't attended any meetings in weeks without providing a reason. You're making me look like a fool'
'I'M MAKING YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL?!' Your tears were now streaming down your face, falling quicker than you could wipe them away.
He stayed silent and that broke your heart even more, he could've said something, anything.
'Aleksander, I'm trying to keep myself together for everyone, I'm trying so very hard to appear normal and happy but I don't think I can do this any longer. The whispers and the rumors, watching you and her-' You slid down the door and sat on the floor, head resting on your knees. '-It's getting to me.... and it's killing me.'
You thanked the Saints you didn't see his face, for the silence spoke for itself. He didn't deny anything or reach out to comfort you. I've lost him.
'All I wanted was a happy ending.' You laughed a sad laugh that pulled at his heartstrings. With your eyes still facing away from him, you didn't see his hand go up to wipe the lone tear that fell down his face or the slight shake in his hands as he did so. He had no words that would comfort you. He knew what he'd done. He'd been avoiding you ever since he realized it. He didn't want to see you cry or see how his actions affected you.
Telling you that it means nothing to him was of no use. You had it in your mind now, forever engrained around his name, the rumors wouldn't stop and Alina was still around. He truly felt nothing of importance for her. All she meant for him was a key to a better future with you.
He approached you slowly, getting down on his knees next to you. He took your hand in his and held it up to his lips. He never prayed, but right now he silently muttered words to all the Saints. Don't let her leave.
'I'm so sorry Darling. Y/N I love you so much.'
'But you love her more' You yanked your hands away.
'NO. no. Y/N. I swear it. You are everything to me' He had grown serious now, he wanted you to look at him. He missed you.
'Then explain why you're parading her around like a Queen, letting her wear your colors, probably sleeping in her bed'
'I have never toucher her in that way. I'm yours Y/N.' Please look at me.
You lifted your head and looked at his beautiful face. He too looked tired, exhausted. His eyes were red and puffy. Saints, I've never seen him cry.
'You will have a happy ending. I promise Darling' He took your face into his hands and connected your foreheads together. 'I promise. I'm doing everything I can to make sure you will, and even if I can't, I swear you will you and our children-'
Children. Aleksander never spoke of them to the point where you had settled with the idea you'll never have them. Something about the desperation in his voice made you believe him, Aleksander was strong, he never gave up but he also never sacrificed himself for anybody. Up until now, you didn't think yourself worthy enough to be saved in exchange for him.
'-I would give up everything to see you and them safe, away from harm's way. Right now, the world doesn't deserve them, but once I do what I have to do, I'll give you children. However many you want, Just stay. Please'
You were borderline hysterical as you melted into his embrace. Weeks of frustration and hurt disappeared into thin air. Aleksander held you so tight you were having trouble breathing but you didn't care. He held you all day and all night. All meetings and tasks forgotten.
He explained everything in detail, from the stag and firebird to what happens if things don't go to plan. He kept nothing from you, not even the stress and pressure he felt. You comforted him as he always does to you. You fell asleep together and dreamed of a life with a happy ending, one where you never had to doubt his motives, you dreamed of your future.
Taglist (if you want to be added, plz tell me!)
@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld
@0-artemis
542 notes · View notes
saturnznct · 3 years
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00 line meet their daughters | nct
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➸ request from anon: hi!! could you maybe do a reaction of 00 line meeting their daughter for the first time??
➸ note; ahh this was so much fun to write i hope u like it!! 
➸ word count; 2097 words
➸ jinghua, moonbyeol, kyungah, chaeyeon, julia & saori; newborn
nct masterlist 
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
renjun
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‘Look at that, full head of hair.’
‘What’s your point,’ you laugh at Renjun’s observation.
’Tengfei and Bojing were both basically bald when they were born,’ he points out, ‘but she just has such thick hair.’
‘I cannot believe we have three kids now,’ you say, thinking about both of your sons.
‘You’ve been saying that all day,’ Renjun chuckles, swaying side to side with Jinghua in his arms.
‘It’s true,’ you shrug, ‘it’s so surreal.’
’She is definitely our last,’ he teases, eyebrows raised at you.
‘I know, I know,’ you laugh, ‘but it’s all so perfect. Two boys and a girl.’
‘Two incredible boys and a perfect little girl.’
Renjun laughs, ‘they won’t be very tall though.’
Renjun laughs, ‘they won’t be very tall though.’
Renjun laughs, ‘they won’t be very tall though.’
’Still absolutely beautiful.’
Suddenly, Jinghua splutters and begins to cry. When your oldest, Tengfei did this for the first time, you remember the way that Renjun panicked and froze up, not knowing what to do. But now, he handles his third child with ease, a concerned pout spreading across his face as he reached for a bottle.
‘It’s okay, my sweet girl, daddy’s got the food,’ he speaks in a hushed tone, guiding the nipple of the bottle to her mouth, ‘there. That’s better, isn’t it sweetheart?’
Renjun wanders towards the window, where the hospital’s communal garden can be seen.
You can no longer see her, but you can hear Jinghua gulping down milk. Renjun begins to murmur words that you cannot hear.
‘You’re my most perfect girl…’ Jinghua just watches him, eyes still glassy with tears.
‘You have two older brothers who are just itching to meet you. They’re going to take such good care of you. I’m going to take such good care of you. You don’t have to worry now…’
jeno
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You felt warm. Warm underneath the blankets, warm in your heart. It’s nearly pitch black in your bedroom, apart from the soft orange glow from the multitude of candles dotted around the room. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks, your brand new slightly pink baby girl’s face peeking out from her own lilac fluffy blanket on your bare chest. You’re still laying in the same place that you gave birth to her, while Jeno is curled up next to you, head on your shoulder. It’s a type of staring contest you don’t think you’ve ever had, the way you’re examining each others faces.
’She is so so beautiful,’ Jeno whispers, not wanting to shatter the peace that you’re in.
‘I can’t believe it myself,’ you remark, ‘and I pushed her out.’
‘You were incredible,’ Jeno’s hand finds his way to your hair, still matted with sweat and water that leaked down from the wet flannel that had been on your forehead.
With every passing second you notice something new about her face, a new noise that comes from her tiny mouth or a different coloured hair on her head.
’I can’t believe she is all ours,’ you stroke her black head of hair, ‘our little Moonie.’
‘Gorgeous, with a full head of hair,’ Jeno adds, ‘she’s so perfect. But then again, you gave birth to her.’
‘You helped make her,’ you point out, ‘she has your face. Your nose and your mouth.’
When Jeno shifts slightly closer to you, Moonbyeol’s gaze moves from you to him. Her mouth is slightly open, so much that you can see her little tongue as she gurgles and makes baby noises.
‘Hello Moonbyeol,’ Jeno says, softly than you’ve ever heard him speak before, ‘it’s very lovely to finally meet you. Aren’t you beautiful? It’s so strange, I only just met you but I love you so so so much. I promise I will love and protect you forever.’
haechan
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‘I love the baby smell so much,’ Donghyuck admits as he sniffs Kyungah’s head as she lays in his arms.
’Stop sniffing her like that,’ you grumble, ‘you’ll disturb her.’
‘It’s not like she’s asleep,’ Donghyuck rolls his eyes playfully, ‘she’s awake. Looking at me with those big beautiful brown eyes. God, I’m never going to be able to say no to her.’
‘You can hardly say no to the child we already have.’
‘He is just incredibly persuasive. She is just cute,’ Donghyuck brings her head to his nose again, ‘with a smell that I’ve really missed.’
‘Our daughter isn’t a candle,’ you giggle, ‘I know she smells nice, but you have years to soak in the baby smell. Let her be still, she has the right to be tired.’
‘Fine,’ he jokingly huffs, sinking down into the armchair next to your bed, ’she can lay on my chest and sleep and I can soak in the baby smell and she’ll have no idea.’
Despite saying this, Kyungah is more laying in his arms than on his chest. His eyes are still fixated on her face.
’We make some gorgeous babies,’ Donghyuck muses.
‘They’re both the spitting image of you,’ you say, ‘Dalgun is your double and she… she has your nose and your lips.’
‘With your eyes,’ Donghyuck grins, looking up at you finally with the smile you love so much, ‘you wanna make another?’
‘Fat chance,’ you splutter, ‘I’m still in pain.’
‘I can’t believe I saw you do all of that again. It’s so surreal that you’ve done that twice now.’
Kyungah has fallen asleep at this point, soft snores coming from her. You yawn at this point, your mind filled with thoughts of sleep.
‘You need to go to bed too,’ Donghyuck stares sternly, ‘you’ve had a long day.’
‘So have you,’ you point out, ‘come cuddle me to sleep, please.’
Donghyuck yawns too, using a spare hand to brush back his hair.
‘Yeah, you’re right.’
Two minutes later Kyungah is in her hospital crib, still fast asleep, and Donghyuck is laying next to you.
’Goodnight Hyuck,’ you murmur, ‘I love you.’
‘Goodnight baby. I love you so much.’
jaemin
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‘You like the song?’ Jaemin coos, the acoustic music quietly playing as he tries to rock Chaeyeon to sleep.
It’s completely silent in the birthing centre. You feel almost in a cocoon of warmth with the multi-coloured glow of the bubble tube being the only light. Jaemin’s phone is connected to a bluetooth speaker, playing gentle music.
‘Look, it’s the moon,’ he smiles, using a free hand to point out the blinding full-moon in the sky, ‘it seems like they knew you were coming tonight, huh? The moon is perfectly between the earth and the sun. That’s why it looks so bright.’
‘Giving her a science lesson, are we?’
Jaemin jumps a bit at the sound of your voice, ‘I didn’t realise you were awake.’
‘My stomach hurts,’ you smile weakly, ‘and I woke up to you going on about the position of the sun and earth.’
‘I’m just starting her early! When our Chaeyeon becomes an astronaut or an astrophysicist one day then it’ll be because of me!’
‘Whatever,’ you laugh, shifting around in your bed to get more comfortable.
‘I was just up because she was crying,’ Jaemin explains, ‘but she stopped when I held her, and she wouldn’t let me put her back down again.’
‘Oh,’ you whine, still stretching, ‘wake me up if she needs anything else.’
Within the minute you’re back asleep, much to Jaemin’s relief. You seemed so peaceful, as well as the fact that you weren’t just in constant pain.
‘You could go to sleep too,’ Jaemin whispers at the baby in his arms, ‘you’d be a lot less bored.’
Chaeyeon is just examining his face, eyes darting around between his mouth to his forehead.
’But I suppose, everything is so new and interesting to you. You have plenty of time to explore the world though. Here’s a fun fact about the world- when it’s dark outside and you can see the moon, that means it’s time to sleep. You close your eyes- like this, and you dream all about lots of different things.’
Chaeyeon’s eyes are heavy, although she is refusing to close them.
‘It’s okay to sleep,’ Jaemin murmurs, still gently rocking her, ‘the world will be here when you wake up.’
Not long later, Chaeyeon is sound asleep.
‘Goodnight my angel,’ Jaemin whispers while he lowers her into the crib, ‘I love you.’
yangyang
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‘She is unbelievable,’ Yangyang has your newborn daughter in his arms, while you watch him from your hospital bed.
You lay there, warm drink in hand, fighting the urge to close your eyes. You’re exhausted and in pain. Yangyang was finally having his first hold after your skin to skin time.
‘You were unbelievable,’ he adds, ‘that was so surreal, I can’t believe you did all of that.’
‘It was nothing,’ you shrug, ‘it’s what I am made to do.’
‘It’s still amazing,’ Yangyang retorts, eyes never leaving the face of your daughter.
You’re so tired, erratically fading in and out of sleep.
‘If you need to go to sleep, you can,’ Yangyang’s tone calms all the way down, so that he is nearly whispering.
‘I couldnt,’ you shake your head, ‘too overwhelmed. I don’t think I can take my eyes away from her.’
‘I’ve got her,’ he reassures you, shifting her around in his arms a bit so you can see how secure his hold on her is, ‘don’t worry, lovely, if there’s a problem I’ll wake you up.’
Yangyang uses a spare hand to push hair from your face, before taking the drink from your hand and placing it on the table beside you.
‘I know you want to,’ he sings, and your eyes flutter shut.
‘Finally,’ Yangyang sighs, ‘your mummy/mommy getting the rest she deserves.’
The baby girl in his arms kind of feels like an alien to him, an unknown being but still something undeniably a part of him.
‘You’re so pretty Julia. I cannot believe you’re mine. How is it that you’re half me? You can’t be, you’re 100% your mother. Beautiful.’
Julia gurgles, while Yangyang continues to speak to her.
‘You have many- and I mean many uncles who are excited to meet you. There’s sort of… a humongus family waiting for you. And I hope that you know how much we all love you…’
shotaro
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‘Oh dear, oh dear, oh no,’ Shotaro holds the coughing Saori in his arms, standing at the window of your city apartment.
Shotaro woke up to the sound of Saori crying. You hadn’t woken up, probably still passed out due to the exhaustion of having just given birth a few hours previously.
‘You can’t cry that much sweetheart, because then you’ll cough like that.’
The bright lights from all of the billboards and the cars below are the only source of light in the nursery where they’re stood.
Shotaro continues to bounce Saori in his arms, tapping her back to help her stop coughing and just breathe.
‘Good girl, just breathe.’
Saori lets out a few weak cries before reducing it down to regular gurgles.
Shotaro moves Saori to that she is laying against his shoulder, looking behind him.
’This is the first time we’ve really been alone together huh?’
The distant sound of car horns kept Saori awake as Shotaro just drank in the sight of his newborn’s face with the red and white lights reflecting on her face.
’Are the cars keeping you awake?’ He asks, as if she could answer, ‘who knows where they’re all going at this time. Let’s close these blinds, maybe it’ll be a bit quieter.’
It’s now nearly pitch black in the nursery, Saori’s cries winding down a bit.
‘Oh I see,’ Shotaro whispers, ‘the light was too much. We’ll keep it off from now on.’
Saori begins to drop off, but every time she comes close to it her eyes snap back open.
‘Are you being this stubborn on purpose?’ He grumbles, ‘sleep is nice, you know. I like sleep. When you’re an adult you’ll appreciate a good nights sleep. But you’re just little. Maybe if we put you back in bed, you’ll be able to sleep.’
Shotaro begins to lower Saori back into her crib. But the second her head makes contact with the pillow she erupts in tears again.
‘Oh I’m so sorry,’ Shotaro’s eyebrows furrow, ‘how about you come sleep with mummy/mommy and daddy, just for tonight?’
Saori isn’t crying anymore, but gurgles, which Shotaro takes as an affirmative.
‘Ok, angel. That was some nice daddy-daughter time huh?’
777 notes · View notes
meltwonu · 3 years
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| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [CHAPTER 5]     [FINAL]
pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader
this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, restraints, blindfolds, daddy!kink, dirty talk, sex toys, using panties as a gag, forced orgasms, squirting! 🥴💕oMG YOU GUYS I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER WTF 😭😭😭 I just wanna say thank you so much for all the love and support you all have given me while writing Caffeine and Until I Met You I really cannot believe any of this… It’s crazy to me that you guys liked this fratboy wonwoo au so much… I really appreciate it! And expect some spin off chapters in the future! I already have 3 planned ☠️ Also, I mention it all the time but I never expect any of my fics to get this much love so every time I’m just shocked 😭 literally sitting here blushing just thinking about it 😭😭💕dfsdffds Also this is almost 4500 words so… strap in 😎🥴 Enjoy the last chapter, inbox roundup tmr and I love you so so so so much 💕
chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 COMPLETE
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Wonwoo stares at himself in the mirror, lips pursed and brows furrowed.
“I don’t know.”
Mingyu and Minghao both sigh; the latter throwing his arms up in defeat when Wonwoo grimaces in the mirror’s reflection. “Hyung, you haven’t liked anything we dressed you in. Why don’t you trust us?”
Mingyu places his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders - squeezing the padding in the blazer as he meets the older male’s stare in the mirror.
“This is a date, right?”
“I mean… Yeah? I guess?” Wonwoo mumbles, a little bit shy. “I just don’t want her to think I’m trying too hard. I’m not trying to propose to her, you know. Just trying to get in the foot in the door towards the right direction.”
Minghao steps forward, sighing and shaking his head.
“Yeah, that’s true. But also… Isn’t think your first, real, official date with her? Don’t you want it to be special?”
This time Wonwoo laughs at the pair's dramatics - already shrugging off the blazer as Mingyu’s hands fall from his shoulders.
“God, the two of you make it seem like I’ve never dated a day in my life.”
“Hyung, aren’t you also kind of acting like that yourself? You asked us to help you dress for it in the first place.”
A crimson flush paints Wonwoo’s cheeks at Mingyu’s words; lips pressing into a firm line as he avoids their shit eating grins.
Goddamn it.
“Whatever, just show me other outfits you guys have.”
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Wonwoo tells you to meet him in front of the library at 10AM.
‘It’s somewhere familiar.’ He says.
You’d rolled your eyes but agreed - already standing in front of the familiar doors ten minutes earlier than your agreed meeting time.
Part of you was extremely giddy and excited and the other parts of you were nervous and anxious at what Wonwoo had planned for today.
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‘Did you have any suggestions for our date?’
Wonwoo bites the inside of his cheek as he sends you the text - palms clammy as he sighs.
‘You should ask for her opinion, hyung. Let her know you value her!’ Mingyu had said.
Wonwoo knows that.
But he blames being away from home a little too long for his airheadedness about it all. Tells himself it’s because he was gone for so long that he doesn’t really know how to act anymore.
Deep down inside, Wonwoo knows it’s really just because you make his heart do backflips when you smile at him and he just never knows how to respond except by shooting you an awkward tight lipped smile of his own.
He’ll call you beautiful all day long and praise you until you beg him to stop but something about the candid moments in between the pleasure that are the moments that make him feel like he’s falling in love for the first time all over again.
But Wonwoo wouldn’t quite admit that to you right now.
‘What would your ideal date be, Wonwoo?’
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He runs late by ten minutes.
Soft curses spill from his lips the entire time he jogs over - the flower bouquet in his clammy hand getting crushed slightly at the death grip he has on it.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry I’m late!”
Wonwoo rambles on about how Minghao wouldn’t stop chasing him with a bottle of hairspray but your shaking pupils can only focus on the poor bouquet of flowers being throttled in the midst of Wonwoo’s animated retelling.
“A--are those for m-me?” You whisper; cutting him off as his eyes flit down to his hand.
“O-oh, um, yes, f-for you…” He passes you the bouquet - a shy smile on his face when you take it from his hands.
He’d picked them out himself after deciding on his own that he wanted to do something special for you. 
Wanted it to mean something important.
“A dried flower bouquet?”
Wonwoo smiles sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head.
Was it too cheesy?
“They’re already dried so they’ll technically last forever now.”
You’re glad, for once, that you can manage to hold in the scream that almost escapes you when you look up to Wonwoo’s bespectacled face.
“O-oh… Thank you, Wonwoo.”
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You want to learn about Wonwoo.
What he likes and dislikes and what he likes to do in his free time. You have a vague idea of it all, but you want to hear it from him directly. 
You want him to turn to you and openly talk to you like you’ve been lovers for much longer.
He holds your hand as he guides you through the museum, but he’s oddly quiet and aloof when you try to pull him into conversations.
“Wonwoo, I--”
“Hey look, it’s a Hannah Höch piece. She’s one of the artists that pioneered that collaging thing Mingyu likes to do.” You lose him again as he reads off a biography off the wall and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his back.
You’d ask him over lunch.
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The two of you spend a good few hours at the museum.
Although, admittedly, you spend more of that time following Wonwoo around as he silently admires the pieces instead of talking to you.
But by the time lunch is rolling around, he walks you over to a small hole in the wall cafe; flowers adorning the entrance and large windows letting in the sunlight as the two of you sit in a small nook away from most of the other customers.
“So, I--”
“Wonwoo, can I ask you a question?”
He tilts his head in mild confusion at your perplexed tone. “Sure?”
It takes a few seconds of you opening and closing your mouth, unsure of where to start before you sigh.
“So… is this a date?”
Wonwoo scratches the back of his head, ears and cheeks hot as you stare back at him. “I just–I want to understand where we are, Wonwoo. Or what we are, I guess.”
There’s a sigh on his lips and out of nervousness, all he can do is readjust his glasses for the third time.
“I told you I was bad at this.”
He was nervous the entire time the two of you were at the museum and he didn’t know how to let you know so he just didn’t. 
He was hoping that he would’ve had the confidence like he usually did. 
“I’m sorry, I know, I--I should’ve tried talking but god, you make me so fucking nervous?” He laughs at his own shyness as he runs a free hand through his hair, fully messing up the styling that Minghao had painstakingly done.
“I make you nervous?”
Oh god.
“I--yeah. You really do.” He smiles genuinely at you before his shy eyes focus on the cup of coffee in front of himself. “I know it’s hard to believe, all things considered, but you really do and sometimes I don’t know how to handle myself so I just… Don’t. And I know it’s not fair and I’m super fucking aware I do it too, I just--I can be bad at words sometimes, I guess.”
You try to keep your cool as you nod; lips easing into a soft smile as you stare at Wonwoo dreamily.
You make him nervous.
Letting it go for now, you stir your drink; thinking of ways to get Wonwoo to be more talkative but not in a nervous, panicked way.
“Hey, why don’t you tell me about your semester abroad?”
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That manages to do the trick as Wonwoo spends the rest of the lunch portion of your date telling you various anecdotes of his trip.
And you learn that other than the long lectures and midday naps, his eyes light up at the stories he tells you about when they were actually at the archeological dig sites.
“It was so interesting to see remnants of what used to roam the earth before we did and to see little artifacts of old cities. I could’ve spent all day out there just excavating.”
“D’you think you’ll go again if you get the chance?”
Wonwoo squeezes your hand as the two of you walk out of the little cafe - already heading towards the last destination that he’d picked out.
“It’d be nice to.” He grins cheekily at you. “But maybe next time we could go together?”
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You end up having to take a taxi to get to the final location.
‘It’d be too far to walk for you, pretty baby~’ Wonwoo had cooed.
The car stops after about 35 minutes and while he pays the fare, you step out to read the sign in front of the large domed building.
‘Planetarium.’
“You okay, baby?”
“Hmm? Y-yeah! I’m just… Wow, I don’t think I’ve been here in… ever.” You laugh awkwardly as Wonwoo places a gentle hand on the small of your back.
“I thought it’d be nice and quiet. We could just... Enjoy each others’ company. And talk. Finally.”
The two of you are quiet when you walk in but Wonwoo tells the receptionist that he’s booked a private room which makes your cheeks warm up.
He’d definitely gone the extra mile.
The two of you are led to a smaller room - just enough to fit ten or so people except it’s only you and Wonwoo once the receptionist shuts the door and leaves you be.
“Shall we?” You nod as you take a seat in one of the recliners; setting your things down into the seat next to you as Wonwoo takes the seat on your other side. The two of you get comfortable as you stare up into the projected night sky - only the buzzing of the projectors in the small room filling up the silence as you start to relax.
Wonwoo reaches for your hand in the darkness and you feel yourself jolt in surprise when he tugs you a little closer to himself.
“Have you ever heard the story of the sun and moon?”
“Hmm? Which one? Aren’t there a lot?”
He closes his eyes, sighing softly as he relaxes in the darkness.
“It’s that old story about how the Sun loved the Moon so much that he died for her every night so that she could breathe. He thought she was so beautiful when she’d glow but the Moon knew their fates were decided in different paths. So the Sun would see her in passing, short glimpses, right before he disappeared beyond the horizon. It’s a romantic story about sacrifice and star crossed lovers.”
“Is that what we are?”
Wonwoo lets out a loud laugh; eyes forming crescents as his glasses slide down his nose bridge.
“No, I think our story is much more fortunate than that.”
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Black is Wonwoo’s favorite color.
“A-ah, hold on…!”
He likes to take naps when he’s not working or in his classes and sometimes spends his time playing PC games with his frat brothers until 3 in the morning.
“Wo--Wonwoo!”
He doesn’t have a ton of hobbies but he’s been thinking about videography lately since Mingyu’s brought it up.
“Baby, h-hold on, I’m gonna drop you if you don’t stop flailing!”
And he’s already thinking about taking a film class next semester and maybe quitting his job at the library to focus.
He tells you his favorite hyung is Seungcheol, ‘because he buys food all the time’ and his favorite dongsaeng is Seokmin, ‘because he cries easily so you know his heart is always in the right place.’
“Okay, finally!”
Wonwoo all but kicks the door to his room open, carrying you inside before he kicks it shut.
He lays you down gently on the bed as you giggle; a gentle smile on his face when he lays down next to you.
“I don’t know why you wanted to carry me up the entire flight of stairs but thank you.”
“Think of it as my sun sacrificing for your moon.”
You roll your eyes at his sudden cheesiness and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself rolling onto your side and immediately reaching for Wonwoo’s face as you tug him into a heated kiss.
“Mmph!”
He’s taken by surprise at first but quickly melts into it himself; eyes closing and hands reaching for your body when you start to roll on top of him.
His lips are soft and his kisses slow - the taste of coffee lingering on his lips and tongue when your lips part for him.
You’re reminded of his soft and gentle touches from a few days prior when you moan against his mouth and he’s quick to thread a hand through your hair before he flips your positions so that you’re underneath him instead.
“Mmh… Wonwoo…”
He kisses you on the lips one more time before he pulls away and takes his glasses off.
“I have one more thing for you to conclude our date.”
“Oh? A gift?”
“You can say that…”
He gets up from the bed and walks over to his closet - fetching a small box that he brings back to the bed as you sit up on your elbows.
“Wait, you’re not actually proposing, are you? On the first date?” Snorting, he takes the lid off and empties the contents of the box onto the bed.
“Depends. There’s definitely a cock ring in this pile somewhere.”
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‘You can use anything in this box on me tonight. I wanna give you the freedom.’
“You look… wow.”
You try your best to not go over the top with the toys but you couldn’t help yourself when you reached for the blindfold and the set of handcuffs; shaky fingers helping Wonwoo get into position against the headboard before you had locked the handcuffs into place and wrapped the blindfold around his head.
“Everything you dreamed about, baby? Having me at your mercy?” He smirks and even through the blindfold, you already know his eyes are smoldering and staring holes into you as you sit on his thighs.
“Maybe we should switch off every now and again ‘cause you look really good like this, Wonwoo…”
“Hah, well, let’s see how well you do, hmm, princess? Maybe if you do a good job, I might let you.”
Gulping, your eyes flit down his half naked body and yours before you reach for one more thing from the box; turning it on and letting it buzz to life as Wonwoo tenses up slightly.
He holds his breath and anticipates it but he’s still not as prepared as he thinks when you press the vibrator against his cock through the fabric of his boxer briefs.
“Oh--s-shit!”
The sensations feel even stronger with his eyes covered by the blindfold and his arms bound above his head and no matter how much he wants to tug against his restraints, he knows he can’t do anything.
Your mouth is agape at the way Wonwoo squirms underneath you and for a moment, you wonder if this is what he sees when you’re the one squirming underneath him.
“You’re not usually this sensitive… daddy~”
The teasing lilt in your voice has Wonwoo clenching his jaw before he huffs. “Daddy’s not used to being the one tied up, sweetheart.”
He opens his mouth to comment again, only a soft moan floating past his lips as he thrusts up against the vibrator. You don’t do anything other than hold it against his clothed cock but it’s enough for him to want to give in and switch places with you already - even though it’s only been minutes since you started.
Wonwoo tells himself control is something he needs to learn how to manage.
You can’t help but touch yourself while you hold the toy against him; biting your lip to hold in your noises when you gently run your fingers over your clothed mound.
“Sweetheart…”
“Y-yes, daddy?”
Grinning, Wonwoo can already tell by the shakiness of your voice that you’re affected too and he can’t help but want his hands roaming all over your skin.
“You should have all your fun now while you can~”
Gulping, you heed the warning in his voice as you set the vibrator to its highest setting, causing Wonwoo to let out a broken cry as the vibrations make his entire body tremble and try to shy away from the toy.
“G--god, fuh--fuck, ngh…”
His moans have your pussy clenching around emptiness and your fingertips only press harder into the wet patch of your panties at the way he tugs against his restraints.
“D-daddy… I--Can I sit on your cock now? I can’t w-wait any longer, you look so good…”
“O-oh? Watching daddy being a little bit submissive got your panties all wet, huh, princess? Are you wet enough to take daddy’s cock already?”
“Mmhmm…”
You turn off the toy and pull it away from him, watching his body go slack before you shimmy off of his lap to take off your panties.
A grin etches itself onto your face as you hold the wet material in your hands. “Daddy? Do you wanna know how wet I am?”
You can see Wonwoo’s brows furrow from above the blindfold but he nods once, lips parted slightly as he catches his breath. Goosebumps are all over his skin and he can feel you starting to grind down onto his clothed cock as your wetness soaks into the material of his boxer briefs.
“Oh, sweetheart, I--mmph!”
Giggling, you stuff the fabric between his parted lips - muffling anything he was going to say after as you grind down onto him harder. “Mmh, daddy you’re so hard… ‘m gonna make myself cum on your cock now, okay~?”
Only what you can assume are muffled curse words fall from his lips when you scoot back down to his thighs, tugging his boxer briefs down before wrapping a hand around his cock.
You lean over and let saliva drip from your mouth to the head of his cock - smearing the spit and his precum up and down his shaft as you prolong his teasing before giving himself, and yourself, what you both really want.
“Daddy, I wish you could see yourself right now~ I can tell how much you wanna feel my cute ‘lil pussy wrapped around your cock… Squeezing you and making you feel good too~”
Wonwoo can only groan around the fabric, hips thrusting up into your palm.
“And I’m so wet now too… But daddy always gets me sooo wet…” You shimmy back up his body, positioning his cock at your entrance before you start to sink down slowly. “A-ah, sliding into my hot ‘lil cunt like you w-were made for me, daddy…”
The amount of expletives Wonwoo’s screamed into the soaked material is uncountable at this point, but he says a mental prayer thanking the powers up above when he’s finally fully seated in your warmth - cock already curving deliciously into your g-spot as you mewl.
“Mmh, I could cum like this… Your cock is s-so big it’s already filling me up s-so good and--and touching all the p-places inside me that make me w-wanna cum…”
You grind atop his lap, swiveling your hips before removing your bra and tossing it off to the side. “Ngh… daddy…” Your hands roam your skin, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples as you whimper and clench down onto Wonwoo’s cock harder.
“Nod once if you wanna see me, daddy~ Or nod twice if you wanna talk to me~”
Wonwoo grits his teeth - you could really be evil when you wanted to.
But he nods once, sharply, to let you know he’s not happy he can’t have both. You laugh softly in return, leaning up to remove the silk ribbon from his eyes.
He blinks rapidly to adjust to the dimmed room, eyes on your naked body in a flash as you go back to teasing yourself.
“Do you like what you see, daddy?”
Wonwoo gulps, this time nodding shakily as he watches you pinch your nipples and cup your breasts. “Bet you wanna touch me too, huh, daddy?” He narrows his eyes - silently telling you to watch yourself.
“Hmm… s’not as fun when daddy doesn’t talk to me too~”
You smile at him teasingly before you reach over to pull the wet material from between Wonwoo’s lips and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chuckling - quietly yet enough to make you shiver.
“Hah, gotta hand it to you, princess...”
He doesn’t say anything more which makes you nervous so instead, you start bouncing on his lap, fingertips on your clit as you chase your pleasure.
This won’t last much longer, you think, I gotta take what I can get.
Soft mewls spill from your lips as you maintain eye contact with him and the way he just stares at you is enough to make you cry out.
“D-daddy, d--don’t, ah, look at m-me like that…”
“Like what, princess?”
You pinch your clit, eyes clamping shut when he shifts slightly underneath you.
A choked sob bubbles up your throat when you throw your head back and the pleasure washes over you - your orgasm hitting you hard as you swivel your hips faster.
“Oho, my pretty ‘lil princess is already cumming~ Your hot ‘lil cunt is sucking my cock in deeper while you cum… Don’t you want daddy to fuck you good and hard? Feel my cock fucking you so deep you feel it in your stomach?”
“O-oh, god, daddy…!” Your thighs shake as you rub quicker circles on your clit - milking your orgasm for what it’s worth before you would give back the control to Wonwoo.
“Or maybe daddy should fuck you slow… Let you feel every inch of me when I’m sliding in and out of your pretty ‘lil cunt… Make you beg for me and crave me so fuckin’ bad, just like you did to me?”
His laugh is cruel and makes you whimper; orgasm ebbing away as your fingers slow down and your hips come to a stop.
Gulping, you know the second the locks click on the handcuffs that Wonwoo would most likely make you pay for all your teasing.
But you fish for the keys lost in the bedsheets - shaky, sticky fingers reaching above the silent male underneath you as you start to undo the locks keeping him bound to the bed.
And it doesn’t take long.
“Ah…!”
Wonwoo does the rest of the work himself, tugging himself free and maneuvering you swiftly until you’re on your back; the air knocked out of your lungs at how quickly he moved.
“Daddy, I--”
The words die on your tongue when Wonwoo pushes your legs up to your chest, not even bothering to rid himself of his boxer briefs when he sinks his cock back into you.
In this position, Wonwoo holds all the control; cock slamming into your sensitive cunt as garbled noises fall from your lips.
“D--daddy, ‘m se--sensitive… ngh…”
Your cunt is like a vice grip around his cock as he snaps his hips hard and fast - this time chasing his own pleasure after all your teasing.
In all honesty, he would’ve cum if you kept the vibrator on his body any longer and he mentallly reminds himself to not let you know how easily it affected him.
“I know you’re sensitive, princess~ Which is why you’re gonna cum for me again.”
Wonwoo reaches between your bodies, rubbing quick circles on your clit with the pad of his thumb as you scream out his name.
“Oh--oh, god! Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo!”
“That’s right. Fuckin’ scream my name, princess. Who’s making you feel this good?”
“Y--You! Daddy! Fuck, ah, I--I can’t, I can’t, I--mmh!”
Wonwoo already starts to feel your body tense up with each thrust of his hips that has the head of his cock tapping your g-spot.
“You can and you will, princess.” He mutters, eyes focused on your face that contorts in absolute bliss. “Daddy wants to feel you cumming on his cock while he fucks you nice and deep. You take me so well, princess~ Fuckin’ taking all of me in your cute ‘lil cunt.”
Tears blur your vision as the pleasure starts to wash over you a second time - nothing leaving your lips except for an alternation of ‘Wonwoo’ and ‘daddy’ as your legs shake and toes curl.
“Fuck, princess…!”
Wonwoo’s cock is forced out of you as you cum hard; squirting all over his lower half as you cry out and convulse against the sheets.
The ringing in your ears is enough to block out anything he seems to say but he’s quick to wrap a hand around his cock and tap your swollen clit as he works you through your second high.
“Aww, my good ‘lil princess is so cute when she’s squirting all over daddy~ Making a big mess, too~” Your body jolts with each tap of his cock head against your clit and it only prolongs your orgasm as you thrash against his sheets.
“Da---daddy… I, hic, ‘m sor--sorry…”
When Wonwoo feels your body start to relax after a few tense minutes, he takes in your glowing form underneath him; thighs slicked with wetness and bed sheets soaked and crumpled underneath your bodies.
In a moment of gentleness, he lets your quivering legs down, fingertips massaging your tired body as he leans over you.
His lips are ghosting across your cheek as you open your teary eyes, soft cries still on your lips when he wipes at your tear stained cheek with the back of his fingers.
“You okay, princess?”
“Mm…”
“You wanna stop now? We can if you want.” His voice is barely above a whisper and the softness of it makes your body feel warm and sated when he kisses you gently. He repeats this a few more times as you catch your breath; leaving feather-light kisses all over your face as you mewl.
“You didn’t cum yet though, daddy…”
“I know, s’okay.” He smiles against your lips, “I want what you want… ‘Cause I really like you. And I’d really like to go on more dates with you, princess. And I wanna be able to tell everyone that I really like you too. And show you off to them and make them jealous that you’re mine. If you’ll let me. And learn with me.”
You giggle tiredly into his kiss, hazy eyes meeting his own.
You were happy.
And Wonwoo was too.
“Wanna start by grabbing me a glass of water from downstairs then, daddy?”
“Anything for you, my moon.”
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“Does that really work?”
“What do you mean?”
“The ‘holding a cup to the door’ thing. Can you hear them?” Mingyu purses his lips at Minghao’s question.
“Not… really. Kinda just muffles it more.”
Jeonghan passes by the two currently hunched over each other in front of Wonwoo’s door; an incredulous look on his face.
“Why are the two of you listening in on them fucking? Fucking weirdos.”
Mingyu and Minghao both turn to look at the older male, lips pursed into a firm line “We’re not listening to them fucking, hyung. We’re trying to hear their conversation.”
Jeonghan laughs as he shakes his head.
“There’s absolutely no valuable conversation going on if she’s screaming ‘daddy’ so loud that Seungcheol is texting me about it from his bedroom. You should leave before Wonwoo finds out and decides to make rugs out of the two of you.”
“Ugh… Yes, hyung.”
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💕
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talesofstyles · 3 years
Text
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
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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?”
-
tag list: @gohometoacactus @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @kikisparadise18 @2am-2pm @rogersdirty-louse @harrys-cherriesss @icycoldbeanieweanies @niallbestie3 @peakascum @coucoukayy @awesomebooklover17 @sunflowerryvol6 @stylessugarhigh​ @umadirectioner​ ​
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stylesberries · 4 years
Text
Masterlist
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Last Updated: 07/07/21
Thank you guys so much for all the love that you’re giving my writings. It makes me so happy to know that they’re people who enjoy reading things I write. I will be definitely adding to this masterlist, so this is not all you’ll get from me ;) - Hamida
♥ - indicates fluff
✪ - indicates smut
☹ - indicates angst
Bundle Of Love ♥
Harry reflecting upon his love for Y/N.
Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating for a couple of months, he still knew you better than he knew himself. Every stir and every little sound you made in your sleep. To everyone before him they were just stirs and sounds, but for him they had a meaning. He never lets them slip without noticing. He watches your every move carefully to make sure that he makes you the happiest he possibly can and even if that is the case, he still does everything possible to make sure you’re even happier.
Call Me H ✪ ♥
You both walk straight to Harry’s hotel room because you can’t keep hands off of each other anymore. (Is a logical continuation to Stay With Me, but can be read separately.)
“You’re very sweet, Harry. There is just one problem.”
Your eyes become a bottomless well and Harry feels himself drowning in its waters. The curiosity grows in him when he hears mystery in the way the words leave your mouth.
“What problem?” He whispers innocently, his eyes darting at you.
“I really want to fuck you.”
City Lights ♥
Harry asks you a very important question as you drive through the streets of Rome.
The hand wrapped around your side, carefully going in circles, the repeating motions slowly soothing your anxiety.
Harry lowered his head and his lips touched the top of your ears. The warm breath created vibrations against your skin and sent a charge of electricity through your body.
I really love you.
Daddy ✪
Harry wins a Grammy. You weren’t able to be there. Or were you?
“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked Jeff as he exited the car, his hand wrapped under his new Grammy.
“I’m not. Enjoy the night, man. You deserve it.” Jeff spoke weirdly as he closed the door behind Harry and waved at him with a suspicious smile on his face.
“Enjoy my night? Don’t you want to come in and drink with me a bit befo-” Harry spoke as he watched the car with Jeff in it drive off.
Egocentric ♥ ☹
Memories of a fight with Harry overflow you, as you wander around the house and end up playing Fine Line on vinyl.
As the first few seconds of the song echoed through the room, I found myself being dragged into a different atmosphere. The one my mental state wouldn’t let me go in without crying.
All of the insecurities and doubts, that I have been overflown with, came over me and dragged me down with them.
Fireflies ♥
Harry has been acting weird for a couple of weeks, but when y/n finally finds out the truth, it’s far from what she assumed.
“Harry, what’s behind your back?” You asked straightforwardly.
He looked uncomfortable and seemed to have been taken aback by your question.
“It’s um-” He brought his hands forward. They held a black folder visibly full of papers. “It’s m’folder with song ideas.” He seemed unsure of the statement himself, but you put the blame on the fact, that he was left dumbfounded by your actions. What was that about though?
Flower Field ♥
Harry accidentally breaks his favorite guitar, which makes it an obvious choice of a present for his upcoming birthday.
“Is it small enough for me to carry it around?” Harry tried his best to guess what exactly you were getting him. He’d been like this since the early morning when you wouldn’t tell him what you’ve gotten for him.
“It’s not small, but you can carry it around.” It was the first question, for which your answer wasn’t exactly a “no”, so Harry smiled, thinking he’s finally onto something. The party took place in a closed down restaurant that you all would go to once in a while. There weren’t many guests. Just the closest friends. “Knowing Harry, it’s probably hundreds of people.” You thought.
Full Of You ✪
It’s your birthday and Harry has an idea of a birthday present.
Your thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s hold tightening around your body and his face snuggling into the crook of your neck. You whined, fighting for a couple more well-earned minutes of sleep.
“Nopies, bunny. Don’t whine at me. We have a long day ahead of us.” Harry excitedly informs you and lets his hands snake over your sides. Your boyfriend moves his mouth over to your ear and whispers this time. “It’s my love’s birthday today.”
Gucci Jumpsuit ♥
Harry pampering Y/N despite her attempts to stop him.
“They have the heels you love. The black ones, you know? They have those in pastel colours. Wouldn’t y’love that?”
“Harr-” I tried to say something in between his Ted Talk on why exactly I have to try those shoes he is talking about.
“And we could look for jeans f’you. You wanted wide leg jeans, remember?” He continued, without pausing even for a second.
Heat ✪
Your boi’s too vanilla for your liking. He refuted that tho.
As he filled you, even more tears started flowing. Your vision turned blurry and your head felt light. All you could feel was the stretch you craved so badly.
“Daddy, please fuck me.” Words leaving your mouth without a single thought in your head. You didn’t care that you’ve never got to ask him if he was actually into such things before, acting purely on instinct. All you wanted was to be filled. All you needed was the sensation of being penetrated by the man you loved.
Love On Tour ♥ ✪
Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.
“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.
Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.
My Princess ✪
You tag along with Harry to his Vogue shoot. The dress is definitely a turn on.
“Ah, please,” Harry whined, letting you wrap your arm around his waist holding him from running away from your wet tongue.
“Please what, baby?” You teased him further, running your nails against the wet trace along his spine.
“Please, touch me.” He begged, pushing his back against your chest in hopes that your arm would move a little lower and touch his crotch even though he knew how much you hated it when he wasn’t patient.
Rainbow Cardigan ♥ ✪
Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)
“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.
Right Choice ✪
Harry has a moustache now and you want to get it sticky.
“I’m all for it, so it’s up to you.” Harry nodded and started applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.
“Just know that you have to eat me out whenever you’re done here because I’m dripping.”
Shattered Glass ☹
You feel overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts and memories of traumatic events. Glass is shattered.
“Hm?” You let your eyes fall on his gentle and almost all-knowing expression.
“I said I know what you’re doing. You’re letting things get to you. I know you can’t stop the flow of thoughts but at least let me know what’s bothering you so I can try to help.” He spoke softly and chose every next word with care as he knew that if he picked the wrong words you would close off even more.
Stay With Me ♥
You meet Harry and fall in love to the art and architecture of Rome.
“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.
“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.
Vegan Cupcakes ☹
You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.
Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.
In the beginning.
Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.
Wooden Floor ☹ ♥
Reuniting with Harry after being apart during the quarantine made you realize something.
When I met Harry, and we started dating, I promised myself to give him space and not suffocate him with my love, for I was scared, that he would leave me like everyone before him did.
I had never been loved so much. I had never experienced what I gave people myself. The endless love and loyalty. Harry gave me his all, and I started feeling bad for not showing all of the love I had for him, and yet I still feared losing him because of my obsessive nature.
I sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through our texts with Harry.
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Insecure Thicc!Reader
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Pairings: BNHA Boys x reader
Warnings: Some spicy bits, but not too crazy, a little crude, kinda implied fem! in some bits, but you can just skip over those points if ya want
Characters: Bakugou, Kirishima, Dabi
Author’s Note:
Hello! This is the first time I’ve written for Dabi so I hope his turned out ok! As a thicc girl myself, I kinda poured my heart out a bit for this request. I hope you enjoy these little headcanons (I kinda went crazy oop—)!
If you’re feeling insecure, remember that you’re beautiful, no matter what other people say! I’m still on my own journey of self-love, but I hope that this can bring a bit of comfort to anyone who is anywhere on that road.
I know that it says Mirio, but I don't write for him so I contacted the requester and they swapped him out for Dabi.
I love you guys! Hope you like it!
-Sugar
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
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Bakugou:
My mans Bakugou
He can appreciate some nice booty
I'm just going to jump straight to cuddling here because that's what I feel like doing
In public, Bakugou isn't all that affectionate
I am by no means saying he wouldn't gladly flaunt your relationship and yell about how wonderful and attractive his s/o is, but for the most part he likes to keep it between you two
But during down time, when there's nothing to do and all evening to do it, he wants you in his lap
SNUGGLING
He a stronk boi, you're sitting on his lap whether you like it or not
You are his human teddy bear, and you're going to have a hard time getting him to let you go
He wants to touch you all over and let his hands sink into your soft, plush body
Cheeks? Perfect for kissing and squeezing between his fingers
Your chest? He likes to hold you in his hands and test the weight of your boobs. They're so nice and soft and squeezable
Tummy? Bakugou's all over giving you soft, slow kisses over your skin, sucking a little into his mouth and between his teeth to nibble on
Thighs? He's touching on them constantly. If ever he's feeling possessive over you, his hands are going to fly to your legs and give them a solid squeeze to remind you you're his
Butt? Like I said, he loves it. He likes smacking it at every opportunity. Watching the resulting jiggle is the most satisfying and enticing thing to him
He likes to hold you at night, either his hands firmly clasping those lower cheeks or simply having it pressed into him. As much as he can get, he'll take
Now, if he ever catches you saying something bad about yourself, you're done for
You say it when you're home alone together? He's going to prove to you how beautiful and valuable you are through any methods he can think of
Lecture consisting mostly of him yelling about how much he loves you? Check
Tackling you in an aggressive hug and pinning you to the bed only to point out and gently kiss everything you dislike about yourself, telling you how much he loves it? Check
There's another thing I could mention he'd do, but my mom might read this, so I don't want to get into it, buuutt you can fill it in yourself 👀—
Say something bad out in public? He's going to give you a death glare and pull you aside as soon as he can to tell you to stop
If someone makes a nasty comment about you, they got a big storm comin
Let's just say that, after an extensive apology from the person, you probably won't see them again for weeks
Bakugou knows how to get to people
Katsuki doesn't care about what you look like, as long as you're happy and healthy
He values how you carry yourself and how you treat him. Something as superfluous as appearance isn’t on his mind when choosing and loving a partner
He's a good person to vent to as well. It may not seem like he’s listening sometimes, but he his. His insight is truly outstanding. There's something about him where, when he wants to, he always knows the right thing to say
13/10 loves you just the way you are and knows you're beautiful. Would not hesitate bitch to throw hands to anyone who says otherwise
____________
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Kirishima:
Idk if this is me just self projecting onto him or whatever, but high key I think Kirishima could have a thing for thicc people
Nothing against our skinny queens and kings! He'd love you either way
But like, I can 100% see it
So he honestly gets kinda offended when he realizes you're insecure about your body
He understands why you feel this way—he's not blind to the fact that you're a little bigger than some other people
What really gets him is why you put so much pressure on yourself to look a certain way. To him, you're the most beautiful wonderful person in his world. Why would you be so negative towards yourself?
He knows how it feels to be insecure, especially with appearance
If you want to change yourself, he's 100% supportive. Mans is literally the most perfect gym buddy and would love to be by your side on your journey of self improvement
If you're not interested in changing your appearance, whether it be simply just for now or even never, guess what? He's 100% supportive!
I've seen this everywhere, and if you're also a regular in this niche of fanfic, I'm sure you have too, but Kiri is the biggest hype man
New outfit? He's all over telling you how good you look. Flaunt it, babes!
New makeup look? Amazing! Beautiful!
Did something different with your hair? Yesyesyesyesyes
And he's completely genuine in his praise as well. It's not manly to be fake about your thoughts and beliefs, and he knows for a fact that you're beautiful, just the way you are. Confidence goes perfectly with any look!
When it comes to cuddling, he's all over you
He'll respect it if you're uncomfortable being touched in some places, but what he wants most is to be as handsy with you as possible
He just wants to run his hands over every surface of your body. Nothing suggestive about it (unless you're in the mood! 😉), he just wants to feel you
Boob pillow? That's all his. It's like there's one magnet in your chest and another in the side of his head. They're just so soft and plush and squishy?? To die for! Even if your chest is comparatively small, he's still on you. You can't stop him
When his head isn't planted on your chest, it's settled on your belly. He likes the warmth against his cheek and finds every aspect of it cute
Rolls? Adorable! Stretch marks? Beautiful! Hair? Pretty!
11/10 you're getting tummy kithes and little teasing tickles every night you spend together
He loves your thighs. Being a little grabby with them is totally his thing
Yet another place to leave kisses. Maybe even love bites too `O.O`
Great place for him to take little naps. Literally I cannot stress enough how comfortable he finds you, immersed in your scent, cheek comfortably resting on the tops of your legs, your fingers carding through his soft red hair. You are literally Heaven on Earth to him
Insecure about your arms? He loves them. They lead to you, and give him the best cuddles and hugs ever in the whole wide world. He'll kiss them all the way up and down until you admit they're not so bad
That goes for everything though. If he catches you talking bad about yourself or your body, he will tackle you and start kissing you all over until you admit how beautiful you are
KISSES ON YOUR CHEEKS. CHUBBY CHEEKS ARE VERY ADORABLE AND COMPLETELY FREE KISSING REAL ESTATE
He won't hesitate to carry you around or let you sit on his lap. He's a hero (or even just training to be a hero). He's super strong and manly, and besides, what else are those muscles for? Punching bad guys? Nah, he's more interested in holding his favorite person in the world (oop, that's you!)
Doesn't matter how heavy you are (I'm also talking to all yee who are 200lbs+. I see you. He's got you), he can pick you up. Carrying around his s/o is 100% mandatory and you can't say no (well, I mean, you can but like, only if you truly mean it)
Any days you feel down on yourself, he can be a little more serious
He's a great listener and will hear every word you have to say without interrupting, even though a part of him wants to interject any time you may try to call yourself ugly or unattractive
Once you've vented everything out, he'll pull you into his arms and let you settle on his lap. Then he'll give you the hype/pep talk you need
Anything you don't like about yourself, he'll go on a whole rant about how much he loves it. It's not a flaw, it's just a part of who you are. And because it's a part of you, Kirishima is going to love it, no matter how much resentment you may feel towards it
He's a big hugger, so he wants to have you as close to him as he can. It helps him feel like he's making you feel better
Heaven forbid someone tries to give you trouble for how you look
He won't react as explosively as Bakugou, but they still better be praying
Kirishima's going to give them a good long talk about treating others with respect and being manly. He's not leaving until they apologize
All in all, Kirishima will forever love you for who you are. He doesn't care about your body shape or size. As long as you're healthy and happy and being your best self, he's going to be all for you
____________
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Dabi:
So this guy is not having ya insecure BS
He doesn't see any problem with the way you look
He really grows to like your body even more than he expected over the course of the relationship
He likes how much more of you he has to grab and kiss and smack (affectionately)
He's pretty open with PDA
He likes grabbing your ass where everyone can see and giving you a nice squeeze just to let you and everyone else know you're his
He's into making out with you behind the bar, just waiting for someone to walk in on you
Dabi isn't big on being soft in public, but behind closed doors, you'd find him giving softer kisses and lighter touches
Initially isn't big on cuddling but opens up to it more as he finds how soft and huggable you are
You can bet you're sitting on his lap whenever you can, whether it's alone together in your room or even during a meeting; this man has no shame (not that he should be)
When you open up to him about your insecurities, he'll be a little upset
He sees nothing wrong with you at all, so why is your body something to be upset over? If anything, he's more attracted to you like this
He has a bit of a hard time finding himself attractive due to his burns (he's so wrong tho), so in that sense, he can somewhat understand
Decides to make a bit of a pact with you to stop being so insecure about yourselves and making a big deal out of appearances
You both love each other for who you are, and that's what's important
☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆
Taglist: @a-happy-otter @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4
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nhlandotherimagines · 3 years
Text
I Wish- Quinn Hughes
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@natbarzal @anastasiyaigorevnadobrodevskaya @jonnytoews19 
Well here is blurb number 6 of my Up All Night series! I absolutely adore Quinn Hughes so writing this broke my heart! This is just pure angst and heartbreak, oh and some curse words so consider yourself warned!
Please let me know what you think! Thank you all so much for your continued support you’re amazing! ❤️
He takes your hand, I die a little. I watch your eyes and I'm in riddles. Why can't you look at me like that?
“Y/n here yet?” Elias asks, bumping his shoulder playfully into Quinn. Quinn’s face reddens at the question, and Elias’ smirk grows. The whole team knows Quinn is hopelessly in love with you, and they chirp him endlessly for it.
“Piss off Petey,” Quinn grumbles, “She should be here soon.” The boys threw a little get together for Quinn’s birthday, so of course they invited you. You and Quinn have become really close over the last year, so when Brock put together the invite list you were at the top.
“You should tell her.” Petey states, slipping away from Quinn. Almost as if on cue, you walk through the door. Quinn immediately lights up seeing you, however it doesn’t last long. He is sure he’s going to throw up, maybe even die, when he sees the man walking next to you. It is a guy Quinn has never met before, but judging by where his fingers are interlocked with yours, you are quite familiar with him.
“There he is! Happy Birthday Quinny!” You beam, dropping the mystery man’s hand to wrap both your arms around Quinn.
“Thanks Y/n/n, I’m glad you could make it.” He smiles down at you as you pull away. Sure it was the truth, but Quinn can’t help but fight the frown threatening to settle itself on his face.
The man beside you clears his throat as you pull away from Quinn. “Oh right! Quinn this is my boyfriend Jake, Jake this is Quinn!” You smile brightly up at Jake, and he smiles back. The two of you are so caught up in each other you don’t see Quinn’s face fall as he watches you.
Quinn can feel his world crumbling around him. The way you’re looking at this guy, your boyfriend, Quinn wants you to look at him like that. Until this point he had thought it was an option, that maybe you felt the same. Apparently he was wrong. “Nice to meet you Jake.”
When you walk by, I try to say it, but then I freeze, and never do it. My tongue gets tied, the words get trapped. I hear the beat of my heart getting louder, whenever I'm near you
“What?!” Elias’ eyes are practically bugging out of his head now, as he stares at Quinn in disbelief.
“She brought her boyfriend Petey.” Quinn states again, annoyance clear in his voice. Elias opens his mouth to speak, but Quinn quickly shuts him down. “Just quit it okay? There was no hope anyway, it’s fine.” Before Elias can protest, Quinn is walking away. His shoulders slump in defeat as he attempts to mingle with the people that have shown up for his party.
Quinn is sure this is the worst birthday he’s ever had. Sure, it was nice to spend some time with his friends, but he’s never felt this terrible before.
When Quinn finally sees you alone, you’re walking back from the washroom. As you walk past him, his mouth opens to speak. He wants to tell you how he feels, ask what your deal with Jake is, and tell you how bad he wishes it were him. As you smile at him, his heart hammers aggressively in his chest. He cannot form any sentences as you walk right past him, finding your way back to Jake. He was tongue tied, and there was nothing he could do.
But I see you with him slow dancing, tearing me apart 'cause you don't see. Whenever you kiss him, I'm breaking, Oh how I wish that was me
Brock and Elias try their best to keep Quinn entertained for the rest of the evening. Keeping him out of his own head, and his attention off of you. Their efforts, although for his best interest, don’t stop Quinn from watching you whenever you were in view. Jake’s hands gripping your hips, as the two of you swayed back and forth. The two of you slow dance, despite the hip hop beats that someone had playing through Quinn’s speakers, as if you had your own music playing that no one could hear.
It is rough for Quinn to keep the smile on his face as the steady stream of well wishes continues throughout the night. He does a great job of it though, that is until he hits his breaking point. After towing the line all night, on the verge of a breakdown, or perhaps a temper tantrum, Quinn breaks. That line snaps the moment Quinn watches your lips press to Jake’s. The kiss is short and sweet, but to Quinn it feels like it goes on forever. To him, that kiss solidifies the fact he will never have you.
So he drinks. A lot.
He looks at you, the way that I would. Does all the things, I know that I could. If only time, could just turn back
“Quinn slow down!” Brock pleads, trying to pull Quinn from the kitchen where he has spent the last five minutes taking shots. Quinn just shrugs him off pouring more, trying to rid the whole night from his memory. Trying to rid you from his memory. Brock knows he can’t talk any sense into Quinn, so he does the only thing he knows to.
“Y/n!” Brock calls out your name, and when you turn around, you see him running towards you in a panic. You send him a confused look encouraging him to tell you what is going on. “It’s Quinn. I need your help he won’t listen to me.”
When you see him it scares you. You’ve never seen him like this. Hell, no one has. He’s not drinking for fun, and just trying to keep up with the big guys. You’ve seen those times. This time is different, he’s alone, mumbling to himself and knocking back shots as fast as he can pour them.
“Quinn?” Your voice shakes as you place on hand on his shoulder, and use the other to stop him from pouring another shot. His head shoots up at the sound of your voice, eyes meeting yours. The hurt in his eyes is enough for you to have to fight back tears of your own. “I think you should stop.”
“Why do you care? Go back to your boyfriend,” he spits. The anger in his tone drops though, when he sees your face twist. “I’m just having fun.”
“No you aren’t. Talk to me Quinn, I DO care about you.” You plead, but he just shakes his head and let’s out a sad laugh.
“If you care, why him?” Quinn’s eyes are boring into your own, “I could do what he does. I want to. I can look at you like that, I could’ve been that guy! And if I could go back and change things I would.” You can only stare back at him in astonishment, unable to form any words. His confession hits you hard, you didn’t know. How could you?
When you think about it though, it is pretty obvious. Quinn has always complimented you, been the first to offer you help even if you didn’t need it, and always requested you as his plus one. You feel stupid for not having clued in before, and you feel bad for being the reason for your friend’s broken heart.
'Cause I got three little words that I've always been dying to tell you...
“Quinn, I’m sorry I didn’t know you liked me-“ you start, stammering slightly. You’re trying to form an apology without making matters worse, but Quinn cuts you off.
“I don’t like you Y/n.” There it is again, that venom in his words. Quinn was never one to get mad like this, and you don’t like it. His words, although angry, still confuse you.
“B-but you just said?” You hardly register the three men standing behind you now. Brock and Elias both trying to figure out what is happening, and Jake watching you closely.
“I don’t like you. I love you. Always have. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a bottle to get back to and I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that you have a boyfriend to get back to.” Quinn pulls his hand free from your grip on his wrist. Instead of pouring another shot though he brings the bottle up to his lips and turns to walk away.
“Quinn wait!” You call out to him, but he doesn’t stop. He just continues walking towards his room down the hall. “I loved you too you know?” Tears begin to slip down your face, and you know you’ve drawn a crowd but at this point you don’t care. You watch as Quinn freezes, his entire body going rigid, but he doesn’t respond or turn around.
“But you are Quinn-fucking-Hughes, and I’m just me! I counted myself lucky to even be able to call you a friend, so I couldn’t tell you how I felt. You could have any girl Quinn.” You watch him closely, trying to steady your breathing as you do so.
Quinn turns around, the wild look on his face is certainly not what you were expecting. “Well guess what! I don’t want any girl, I want you. But I guess that ships sailed huh?” He glances over your shoulder for a moment, and speaks again. “Take care of her Jake, she’s a good one.”
Without another word from anyone, Quinn is gone. The slamming and locking of his door, so loud that it’s heard over the music. In your attempt to save your friendship with Quinn, you lost him altogether. Now you’re left to wish; wish that this never happened.
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sfb123 · 3 years
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The Final Goodbye - Chapter 2
Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2
Pairing: Liam x Riley
All characters belong to Pixelberry.
Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?
Catch Up Here
Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)
Word Count: 1,299
A/N: I am so incredibly humbled by the response I got from chapter 1 last week. I don’t think it’s been much of a secret that I’ve been kind of down on my writing and myself in general the last couple of weeks, but the overwhelming love that you all have sent to me via your reblogs, comments, and messages this week has truly warmed my heart and meant the world to me. Thank you so, so much for your support. 
Again, I have to mention my fandom soulmate (yea, I’m just going to start calling you that always now, because you are) @jessiembruno. Your support and encouragement has been monumental in getting me out of my funk, and I will forever be grateful and in your debt for all you have done for me. Even if it’s just keeping me company via zoom while I do my nails for 2 hours! 
Shout out to @emkay512. This doll face reached out on Friday and is an absolute sweetheart. We got to talking, and she mentioned that today is her birthday, so I would like to dedicate today’s chapter to her! Happy birthday beautiful, and I apologize in advance for further breaking your heart on your special day. 
Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!
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When Riley finished her song, the entire bar erupted into uproarious applause as she hurried off the stage, the entire bar minus one table. Riley’s group of friends were completely silent. Maxwell, Drake, and Hana shot each other concerned looks before turning to Liam. He was staring at a now empty stage, they could all see that he was trying to keep his expression neutral, but that proved to be difficult with a single tear rolling down his cheek.
Drake placed a hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. “Li, are you alright buddy?”
Liam cleared his throat and shook his head, looking over at his friend. “Yes...yea, sorry. She has an amazing voice, doesn’t she?”
“The best. She’s our very own diva!” Maxwell said in an upbeat tone, trying to remind everyone that they were supposed to be having fun. “Where did our little Mariah run off to?” He started looking around the bar to find her. 
“She probably just went to the bathroom. I’ll go check on her.” Hana got up from the table and headed toward the ladies room at the back of the bar. 
Liam rested his elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. All he could think about was the hurt in her eyes as she looked at him from the stage, pouring her heart out to him. He couldn’t help but feel like that song was more than just a way to vent her frustrations at their current situation. He didn’t need to say a word for his friends to know exactly what he was thinking. 
Drake was the first one to speak up. “Listen Liam, it was a really bad day for her. She had to pick up Madeleine’s wedding ring, it was kind of a mind fuck for her.” 
His head snapped up at the information he had received. “She what?!”
“Yea, Madeleine sent her. She said she needed to do it as a thank you for letting Riley come on the tour and be in your life.” Maxwell added. 
Liam’s expression immediately hardened as his hands clenched into fists. “I can’t believe Madeleine would…”
“Um...guys, she wasn’t there.” Hana interrupted. All three of them turned to look at her with wide eyes. 
Liam felt his chest tighten as he jumped out of his seat. “What do you mean she wasn't there? Where did she go? We have to find her!” 
As Liam turned to head for the door, Maxwell grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Liam, hold on. She probably just went back to the hotel. Letting that much emotion out in front of all of these people, in front of you, it had to have been exhausting.”
“Well I need to go talk to her then.”
“Liam, don’t. If she ran out of here like that, she wants to be alone. I know Brooks well enough to know that if she wants to talk, she’ll come to you. Showing up at her door isn’t going to fix anything right now.” Drake patted the seat next to him, encouraging Liam to sit back down. 
“Fine, but I’m going to need another drink.” Liam slumped into the seat next to Drake and ran a hand through his hair. 
**
The next morning, Drake was heading in the direction of Riley’s room when he heard Liam calling out to him. He turned to see his friend lightly jogging to catch up to him. “Hey Liam, how’d you sleep?”
“I didn’t. I spent all night convincing myself not to rush to Riley’s room to talk to her.” 
They walked together as another voice filled the hallway. “Liam, darling.” They both cringed and turned around to see Madeleine at the other end of the hall with her hands on her hips. “We are needed for the final preparations.”
“Madeleine, I’m in the middle of something. I will meet you there.” He stood tall, and took a deep breath. He still hadn’t confronted her about the errand she had sent Riley on, but that conversation would be happening very soon. 
Madeleine arched an eyebrow and walked quickly and confidently in their direction, stopping in front of Liam with her arms folded across her chest. “Sweetheart, you are needed to prepare for our wedding shower. What am I supposed to tell everyone when I arrive on my own? Do what you will with her in your free time. This is our time, I cannot have you missing important meetings for her. That’s not how this works.”
“She is more important than any meeting that will ever come across my calendar, especially any meeting involving you.” He sneered at her before turning to Drake. “Tell her I came by. And let me know if there is anything I can do.”
“Of course, man.” Drake clapped Liam on the shoulder and watched as Madeleine linked her arm through Liam’s and walked away. 
As Liam and Madeleine headed to the elevator, they passed Maxwell, the friends exchanging sad looks.
“Hey Drake, how’s our girl holding up?”
“Don’t know, that interrupted us before we could get to her.” 
“Well, let’s go cheer her up. I’ve got some great news!” He bounded toward Riley’s room. 
“What do you mean? What kind of news?”
Maxwell turned to him as he began to knock on the door. “We found Tariq!” Drake’s jaw dropped and he stared at Maxwell in shock, as he continued to knock on the door, not getting a response from Riley. “Little Blossom, rise and shine. We’ve got a big day ahead of us!” He turned his attention back to Drake. “This is weird, she’s usually at least yelling at me to go away by now.”
That comment gave Drake an uneasy feeling in his stomach, he pushed Maxwell aside and began banging on the door. “Come on Brooks, let us in.” A couple of neighboring doors opened as angry heads popped out of them, glaring at the early morning intrusion.
“What is the meaning of this commotion? This is a nice hotel, not a frat house!” Maxwell stiffened at the sound of his brother’s voice. Drake continued his assault on the door. 
“Bertrand! Um...hi. Riley’s not answering the door. She had a late night, she’s probably still asleep.” Maxwell stumbled through his words. 
Bertrand closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Maxwell, do you have the spare key to her room?”
“Oh, right! I forgot about that.” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a key card for the room and handing it to Drake. “Here, use this.” 
Drake shook his head and snatched the card out of his hands. “Brooks, we’re coming in. You’ve been warned. I don’t want to see anything I’m not supposed to.”
They opened the door and entered her room, walking through the sitting area, the bedroom, and then the bathroom. Riley was nowhere to be found. Her bed looked untouched, and it was too early for housekeeping to have come through. 
The three men discussed how best to move forward from here. They were in New York, so Riley was already home, they knew she wouldn’t try to fly out anywhere. But they also knew that they needed to get to LA to track down Tariq and get him to make a statement before he found out they were on his trail and disappeared again. Drake and Maxwell hesitantly agreed to meet up with Hana and take Liam’s jet to LA to get Tariq, while Bertrand went in search of Riley, to talk her into returning. All three agreed it was best not to tell Liam that Riley was missing. He was already dealing with enough, and Riley’s performance the night before had taken quite a toll on him. 
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The Final Goodbye:
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Liam x Riley:
@jared2612​
@choicesficwriterscreations
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mobagehelllocal · 3 years
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“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii
Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.
*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).
It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.
The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous
The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong. 
The songs I listened to while writing this! 
The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are: 
“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry” 
“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”
“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”
I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things. 
I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:
“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift. 
For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.
“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”
Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.
“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”
“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”
Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last. 
One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.
For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen. 
Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why. 
I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more. 
He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT. 
I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.
I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!
I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you. 
My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”
I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish. 
Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love. 
I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.” 
In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse. 
Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.  
But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.
Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince? 
I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.
He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing. 
Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.
My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”
Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?
Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.
In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t. 
And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.
It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go. 
Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.
Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.
I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.
Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”
It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it. 
Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.
I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this. 
Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way. 
My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.
So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot. 
Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.
It would’ve been hot though. 
Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.” 
My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”
My god, who was this genius.
Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters). 
Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why? 
It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.
But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations. 
But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers. 
One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful. 
Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.
They can be called... err... Vil Roses?
My favourite lines from his story is:  ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.”” 
This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will. 
Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow. 
I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him. 
Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part? 
My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”
A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.
That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk. 
Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic. 
I will never shut up about it you can’t make me. 
Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t... 
And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.
Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.
Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him. 
Favourite lines are definitely:  “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”
I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them. 
I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.
Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6. 
I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch. 
I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination. 
Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.
Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another. 
Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study. 
I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach. 
My favourite lines from his story: “‘When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”
I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference. 
Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.
I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.
The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.
Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though. 
The most important imagery would probably be the stars.
I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it. 
Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks. 
My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”
I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that  “Because there is never enough time.”
Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?
“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...
But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.
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damedamedame · 4 years
Note
hihi! can I request hc's of teru, akane, and hanako's s/o being such a simp for them? Like giving them small sweet notes, and all those cute stuff. And it continues even after they were dating alr 🥺🥺
 VARIOUS X READER - REQUEST
- “You’re a Simp? Understandable, have a good day.”
NOTES: WRITING SIMPS ARE SURPRISINGLY HARD???
TERU MINAMOTO X READER
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...
Who isn’t though--
You were known to be one of the biggest simps for Teru Minamoto, Prince and Student Council President of Kamome Gakuen. 
I mean, like everyone else but like
h u g e s i m p e n e r g y
like myself
You would always greet him every single morning with a ‘Good Morning, Minamoto!’ and with a ‘See you tomorrow, Minamoto!’ once you see him leave.
Everyone knew you wouldn’t stop, even Teru himself.
Which was good. 
Because he
may or may not be
simping for you too—
mY HE A  RT WE NT B RR BRR 💕
Listen, he saw you as a boss-type fangirl at first because of all the love notes you leave on his desk, the little presents that were left on the table in the Council Room which he would have to ask Akane about and just,, you in general.
He didn’t actually mind at all !! the chocolate-chip cookies you put on his desk one morning could even rival Kou’s.
Mhm yes the cookies won him over—
wai where was i
oH YES
THEN he realized that he was starting to like you simping for him,, A LOT ACTUALLY—
He couldn’t bear the thought of you doing these sort of things to someone else,, 
Then,, ended up falling for the little things about you hard-- 
When you arrived to say ‘Good Morning, Minamoto!’ to him in the entrance, guess who pulled you aside to personally say
 ‘I.. really am starting to like you, (L/N), can we.. go out?’
Yes, it was Teru and your mind still locks this precious memory away in the back of your head.
And no, the simping did not stop after you started dating him. 
Not at all.
You gave him kisses and hugs every time you saw him, which he would gladly return. 
Especially if he was having a rough day and just needed your comfort. 
He thinks you’re cute when you rush over to him and give him the biggest hug when he enters the classroom. 
Everyone still can’t f uc king believe you got him, but here you were, receiving a little kiss on the forehead with your arms wrapped around him.
“You’re so cute, (Y/N).”
AKANE AOI X READER 
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lil heads up that this was supposed to be really angsty but then chapter 71 happened and i CANNOT HURT THIS BOY ANY LONGER—
You?? You’re simping on the biggest simp?? oH MY GO--
A VV CONFUSED AF BOY
WHY ARE YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, SIMPING FOR THE AOI SIMP????
Akane feels a little, or ve r y, awkward at first because?? um?? w h y ????
Even he knows he’s a big simp for Aoi, so why are you simping for him ??
As I said, vv confused.
Eventually, after having to deal with the many presents (how do you even have energy for this) and the amount of flirts you give him, he gets used to it :’))
An F in the chat for (Y/N) !!
Because he !!
*drumroll noises*
bRushEs yOu oFf 👁👄👁
Look, he has one goal and one goal only and it is all for Aoi—
You might have to give up on this one, even if it h ur t.
Perhaps you’ll do him a favor and start befriending Aoi to help Akane, even if it really really hurts to do so.
Unrealistic as fuck, I know, but deal with me rn :’3
When he sees you befriending Aoi, he is 99% sure you’re stealing her away from him for revenge.
May have brought a bat whenever he sees you, just sayin—
Although
He hears you both talking and
“You know, Akane is actually really good boyfriend material ! Maybe give him a chance, yes??”
Are—
Are you being his wingman???
For some reason, his simp has turned into his matchmaker and he just. doesn’t know what to feel.
‘Thank you?? But?? Aren’t you supposed to be simping for me?? Why are you helping—‘
You interrupted his thoughts with a cheeky grin on your face,
“I hope get you with her, Aoi :’>”
Don’t ask Akane why he’s frustrated with this outcome or you will get hit on the head with a bat.
You guys becomes friends after a while of suffering in confusion from him and after many many explanations that you just wanted to help him haha brr
And after a few months of banter
Let’s just say
There’s gonna be
A simp reversal
Because he definitely did not just notice the beautiful twinkle in your eyes, the way your smile makes his face flush all too suddenly, or how you just astound him in the most unexpected way.
“I... might have a problem, Ao-chan.”
“Akane, just give them a chance already.”
HANAKO - KUN X READER
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What?? Where are all these gifts outside his stall suddenly coming from??
Much like Akane, poor ghost boy is also vv confused. When he finally catches the imposter heh, he’s shocked to see someone he thought he’d never see in,, forever. 
You two were actually really good friends when you both were alive before !!
Hanako remembers you vividly.
You were always there to cheer him up whenever he came up with a new bruise.
Always sending him little love notes in class when you had nothing else to do.
Late night chats as you both walked each other home.
He always thought you were beautiful, but dangerous.
Falling in love with his old best friend was something he didn’t want, especially since ruining your friendship with him was not part of the plan.
WHY DOES HE NOT SEE HOW MUCH YOU SIMPED FOR HIM????
LIKE SM CONFUSION???
EVERYONE LITERALLY THOUGHT YOU WERE DATING—
Little did you know that Hanako did see that but was vv unsure because ✨insecurities✨
Anyways
You were back in his life now, as a ‘student’ who was def not a ghost. Nope. Not at all.
Everyone thought you were weird because you just?? kept visiting that particular stall?? and always left a hella lot of presents and notes??
Hanako tries to keep an eye on you without you knowing but then you really went and said
“I know you’re there, Amane~”
oSHIT—
He didn’t realize how much he missed the way you said his name.
“H-Hey, (Y/N)..”
CH R IS T HE SOUNDS SO AWKWARD WHY WHWYWHWHWGWH.
You, because you love him too much and finally managed to find him after many boring years of waiting around, did not miss this chance to tell him that HEY YES I LIKED YOU FOR LIKE 50 YEARS.
Let me just say that
Hanako was a blushing mess. yes that is all.
He accepts your confession because you practically barged in his mind when you both first met and you just. never left—
When Nene comes in the next day, she goes 😳 because ‘I-Is that (L/N) and Hanako? WAI WHY ARE THEY KISSING—‘
Definitely makes sure that you never meet Tsukasa again, even though the younger Yugi twin pretty much loved you too :’D
After classes, you always made sure to spend all your time with Hanako without fail, being the huge simp you are.
Don’t worry, he is too ;))
“How did you even find me, (Y/N)?”
“Did you really think you could get rid of me that easily, Amane?”
-
END NOTES: sorry akane’s is so shit omg also um this was not at all proof-read so uH I’M SORRY FOR BEING A DISAPPOINTMENT :(((((
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whoistheasshole · 3 years
Text
How do I get out of this unsatisfying life I’m living?
Anonymous asks: So the thing is that I feel incredibly stuck - I have all the basics of life which I'm grateful for but also that was my BIG dream as a kid, to get tf out of my parents' house - but now I have that and idk what to do for the rest of my life. Like, if I try those "visualize your future" things I'm just like, "I'd like to sleep for a month, maybe longer" & it feels like I don't really WANT anything so I can't plan, you know? Just flailing here honestly. Pretty tired of it.
I wrote back: I got your question. To pinpoint my answer a little better, can you tell me about your current situation, like how long has it been since you moved out? Which are the things you have in order to your satisfaction? Some vague idea of your age range would also be helpful, but I can work without it too if you’d rather not share.
Anonymous answered: Ah, sorry. I was trying to fit in the character limit & also whenever I think about this my mind just goes flbbbbth. It's been about 5 years? That's about the only thing I'm truly HAPPY about, I'm not thrilled with my social/love life, career, etc & have pretty much been just coasting tbh. I'm almost 30. Thanks for entertaining this.
Alright, thanks for adding some background. I will come at this from different angles and you can pretty much pick and choose what sounds helpful and leave the rest, okay?
First, while there are people who have it all figured out, methodically planning their next career step or fully certain that there is no greater joy than raising a child, there are tons of other people who just, to quote, go „ flbbbbth“ when asked about their next steps or, god forbid, their life plan. I would say I fall in the latter camp, but I don’t mind because I think there is nothing wrong with that. I let myself be guided by the things I need to be happy (more on that later) and by current necessities – if my job becomes shit, I need to find a new job. If a friendship goes sour, I need to end it respectfully. But I couldn’t tell you specific career or personal goals, except...
... let’s talk about the „later“ now.
I’m an organizer, maybe even a worrier, and therefore I like lists. And for that reason I made a list a while ago that I still have and expect to keep for a long time. It is a list of everything that I need to be satisfied with my life. It consists of 29 entries and has three of them checked, though several others could be counted as half-checked. I wrote down everything that came to mind, paying no attention whether it was reasonable or feasible to want. That wasn’t the question.
It covers stuff like a clean flat (not checked), restful sleep (not checked), friends that I see regularly (checked) or a job with purpose (not checked). This list is my guide. Well, generally my needs are my guide, but it can be hard to be aware of your needs sometimes, so I got this list. And if I wonder what I need or want to focus on, I can turn to it and choose one of the entries and see what I can do about it. I can also look over the list every few years and see if things have developed in the right direction. Little progress is no reason to chastise myself, but helpful information to see whether I need to re-direct my focus.
Please note that I wrote „satisfied“, not „happy“. Being happy is a passing emotional state. It is completely normal and okay not to be happy all the time. But quiet satisfaction with where you are or where you are going, that is pretty achievable. It certainly is a process, but an enjoyable one.
This list is not a race and it is not really a to-do list because most of the things I wrote down aren’t easy to accomplish with a single action. They take months and years and, for some items, I can only try and hope it works out some day (see anybody who ever purposely looked for a partner).
So maybe this kind of list could be an exercise for you. Maybe it provides you with some insight, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s not the right point in your life. But if you sit down and the only thing you can come up with is „cry forever“ or „sleep forever“ then, you know, that’s a sign.
Which brings me to my next point: Journaling or automatic writing. This method is especially helpful for those „I feel some kind of way and I couldn’t even tell you how“ moments – so maybe exactly where you are right now. Captain Akward has introduced me to a website called „750 words“ and I’ve used the principle of „morning pages“, though not the website, since then whenever I felt like some emotions were starting to boil over.
I sit down, ideally in the morning, and just barf it all on the (digital) page. There are only two rules: 1) Don’t edit or judge yourself, write everything as it comes to mind (that’s the automatic writing part) and 2) Don’t stop before you’ve reached 750 words. You are not looking to write anything readable or clever or lyrical, you’re looking to get all the weirdness out so you can move on. Repeat this as many days as you feel queasy or weird or confused or angry or sad. Each day, as soon as you’ve reached the 750 words, you can walk away. Heck, you could even delete/burn the document if that feels right. It’s just about giving your thoughts the room they need so you can continue with your day, hopefully feeling somewhat relieved.
While we’re at writing, I also have a question for you: Where is the pressure coming from to „do something with your life“? Is it truly coming from inside you or are there outside factors? Are people in your life asking you when you’ll have kids? Do you live in a culture where it’s expected that everybody does something of note, works certain prestigious jobs? Do you compare yourself to the people around you and feel like you’re „late“?
Maybe mull this over on a leisurely walk or write about it, using the method above. No matter where it’s coming from, the feeling of pressure won’t go away just by knowing its origin, but the knowledge can help you keep it under control. And if you find it is truly your own wish, you will have tools to shape your life according to your needs.
So, next, sleep: Maybe do that?
You wrote "I'd like to sleep for a month, maybe longer". I understand this was half a joke, but also … it was probably more than a joke.
How are your energy levels? How does life feel? Are you trying to jog through jello most of these days?
If we’ve been overachievers or had a tough home life or needed to take care of ourselves pretty early, we can become accustomed to everything being difficult. This feeling and behavior can become a way of life, even when circumstances change and we have a chance to act differently.
Do you feel rested? Do you have regular moments of quiet in your life that let you breathe? If not, this is where I would start. Forget about lists, though morning pages might be a helpful accompanying tool (if they don’t become a task to punish yourself with if you don’t find the energy).
Take some weeks or months, maybe even a year to make rest your priority. You will have to find a way that works for you. Yes there is a lot of clinically proven stuff out there, but you will not see me do yoga or meditate. Though feel free if that’s up your alley. If you love cycling or taking photos or drawing or just plain lying on your bed and staring at the wall, see where you can add more of that to your day. Whatever brings you closer to yourself and makes you feel like you can exhale and stand still for a moment, that’s the way to go. Do this as long as sleeping seems like a fine choice. And for good measure maybe a month longer. You are ready to stop when you cannot wait to do something else goddamnit I’m bored!!! (you might say)
If you are in this picture, please start here. Any kind of life plan, next steps, strategizing, solving of riddles would set you back and perpetuate your exhaustion. Rest is not time wasted, rest is how you get your life back.
If you are in this picture, you will likely find that if you really pull through, if you truly rest, as long and boring or even scary as it may be, the other questions will probably have an intuitive answer afterwards. Not like „this is my 20-year career plan“, but „I feel like doing x this week“. And that is enough. Because you won’t need to strain to hear your needs through the fog of exhaustion anymore.
Finally, some practical information and links for when you do have the energy and inclination to tackle your job and social life. I am not saying you need to change anything if that’s not what you want to focus on. These are just some tips, in case they become relevant.
For your social life, I recommend what others have recommended before me: Pick an activity that you do with other people and stick with it long enough to become a familiar face, see also here and here (yes, meeting gay people is similar to meeting other people). If you try out new stuff, go there at least 5 or 6 times before you decide it’s not for you – of course assuming nothing bad is coming up like racist or abusive people in the group. Shop around if the first group/activity doesn’t work for you until you find something that you’d like to do permanently. Maybe you’ll gain some friends, maybe you’ll find a romantic opportunity. In any case, if it’s something fun that you like to do anyway, you will have found an outlet with a social group attached. It is absolutely not as easy right now, with Covid and all, but if nothing outdoors-y comes to mind, you could also use this time to brainstorm what sounds like fun for when things are safer again.
Of course you can also look at opportunities online, like Discord servers, online interest groups etc but I do understand if that’s just not appealing right now. I am certainly over sitting in front of a screen.
To round this up, don’t sneeze at contacts that you already have. Are there acquaintances, friends of friends, colleagues, family members who you would like to get to know better? Then go do that! Suggest a time and place to meet up and see how they react. Say yes to the potential friends.
Speaking of which...
The Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes might also be interesting. Sure, it’s a little pop culture positive thinking kinda stuff, but I did like the impulse it gave me to consider when I say no to opportunities out of anxiety or worry. It made me accept some social invitations from colleagues (… in the before times) that I would not have otherwise considered. I did not gain life-long friends, but I did learn another valuable info: That my FOMO wasn’t justified for these events ;)
It also lead me to the decision to do one new thing every month – visit a new place or try a new activity or cook a new food. If the concept sounds appealing, just think about what sounds interesting and achievable to you.
And finally, the advice blog recommendations that I’ll always have. For social life, love life, and general life planning turmoil: Captain Awkward. For everything job-related, including how to write a good cover letter or interview well and, of course, how to get out of the dreaded current job you have: Ask A Manager.
To sum it up:
1) Figure out if you even have the energy to tackle any of this right now.
2) Figure out your pillars for a satisfying life – nothing big and shiny, just … basic needs, wishes, social needs.
3) When you feel like it, pick what you want to tackle next and see where it leads you.
4) Stay flexible. This is your life and it’s okay to go where it takes you, even if it doesn’t look „cool“ or „impressive“ from the outside. All you need is to make it your own.
And if you want to, let me know how it goes some time. :)
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miguel-manbemel · 3 years
Text
Roman’s Brightest Idea
It’s been ages since I wrote a story. But today I had an idea for a story full of angst, and then while I was writing it, I couldn’t help filling it with platonic logince, so here you have this short story and I hope you enjoy it.
INDEX POST
Roman was writing in his room, with his finest golden fountain pen. It had all started, as usual, from a little spark, but Roman saw from the beginning that this spark had potential and he decided to develop it into an idea for a story, and finally he stamped his seal on the last page, then put all the papers in a red velvet folder.
“I did it! This time I did it! This is the best work I’ve ever made in my life! This is my brightest creation!”
Roman started bopping and giggling, like he always did when he finished a work he was proud of, which tended to be the majority of works he finished. It was like, for a minute or so, he returned to his five year old self, who reacted the same way when he finished his first ever fairy tale.
“I can’t wait to show it to Thomas! He’s gonna love it!”
And so, Roman grabbed the red folder and sank out to the outer world, looking for Thomas. He found him in the bathroom, having a shower. It was noon and he had just woken up.
“Hi, Thomas!” Roman yelled
“Jeez!” Thomas screamed, startled “Oh, goodness gracious, Roman, don’t do that, you scared the heck out of me!”
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, I’m overexcited!”
“Oh, is that so?” Thomas said while he turned the shower off, then grabbed a towel and got out.
“Yes, because, you see, I’ve got great news, I’ve got a new idea for a story that you…”
“Yes, that’s great and all, but could you talk to me about that later? It’s getting late and I’m still naked, and I still haven’t got my breakfast, then I gotta go to the office fast, I’ve got a meeting today.”
“But this story…” Roman said, his smile had left his face.
“Later, Roman, I promise. I’ve got a long day ahead of me, please try to cooperate with me, okay?”
With that, Thomas put his bathrobe on and headed to the bedroom to get dressed. Roman was left behind in the bathroom.
“Okay, Thomas, if you’re busy I won’t bother you now… I’ll try later.”
Roman sank down and returned to his room. He looked at the red velvet folder.
“Perhaps it’s not that good?” Roman pondered. “Maybe I need to give it some more time before I bother Thomas? He seemed pretty busy… But no, Roman, you gotta trust yourself a little bit. It was a real masterpiece and when Thomas sees it, he’ll agree too!”
Roman waited a few hours.
“I’m tired of waiting. Perhaps Thomas has finished his meeting already. Yep, I think it’s the time to show him my work. Let’s go.”
Roman sank down and he raised up… standing in the middle of the table right on Thomas’ meeting. Nobody seemed to see him except Thomas, who showed a face of horror.
“Whoops…” Roman said. “I guess it wasn’t over yet…”
“Are you okay, Thomas?” one of his team members said “You look concerned.”
“I… I have a little pain on my tummy, that’s all. I didn’t want to say anything to let him finish his exposition, but truth is I could use a little recess to use the bathroom, if it’s okay with you.”
“No, it’s totally fine, I think we all need a break, this meeting has gotten longer than expected.”
“Then it will be 15 minutes. See ya later guys.”
All the meeting members went out of the room.
“I’m sorry, Thomas, I thought…”
“Don’t ever do that again, Roman!” Thomas said with a voice of anger
“But I’ve been waiting all day and I wanted to show you this idea. I warrant you that it’s the best work you could…”
“It’s not the time for that, Roman! You can’t just pop up whenever you want without permission!”
“But this is…”
“Nothing warrants you the right to do that, Roman! If you continue like this, I’m gonna start to think that you’re not so different from Remus after all!”
“Wha…?” Roman face went ajar, his eyes immediately filled with tears.
“Now, go away, and don’t bother me for the rest of the day until I tell you you can come, is that clear? I wanna hear it from you.”
“It’s… it’s clear, Thomas…” a little sob interrupted the sentence but he managed to pronounce it with all the dignity he had left in him. “I won’t bother you anymore.”
“Good, now go. I have to go to the bathroom so that the others don’t suspect. Look what you’ve made me do, now the meeting’s gonna last forever. Go now!”
Roman sank down, then returned to his room. Now the tears were falling down his cheeks. He looked at the red velvet folder. He opened it in an explosion of anger, grabbed the pages and tore them to pieces while he yelled like a wounded beast, then he threw the pieces of paper to the floor and started crying on the table, sobbing so loudly that he caught Logan’s attention from his own room. Logan was repelled by feelings of that kind but still, he couldn’t help but worry about his friend and decided to check on him.
“Roman? What’s wrong, are you okay?”
“What… what do you want?” Roman said mid sobbing “Don’t you see it’s not the moment to bother me, Teach? Leave me alone!”
“I would, Roman, but logic tells me that if I did, that only would be bad for you. I may not be an expert of feelings, and I don’t know a lot of things in that field, but I know that you are my friend. You know you can count on me for anything you want, and I’d be glad to help you if I can.”
Roman looked at Logan, his eyes all red and his makeup all ruined. His face showed then a grimace of hurt as he opened his arms, inviting him to hold him in a hug. Logan hesitated for a second as he didn’t like that sort of affection, but Roman’s devastated face made him realize Roman needed it, so he just went next to Roman and held him tight. Logan could feel Roman’s tears soaking his shirt and the humid warmth of Roman’s breath after each sob muffled on his chest right on his necktie. It was an unpleasant sensation for him, more for the emotional charge that it had that communicated to him how broken Roman was, something he didn’t like to see at all, something that would have hurt him if, he thought, he had feelings like the others. He didn’t know why he had the need to do so, but Logan started petting Roman’s hair while Roman went on crying a river on him.
After a few minutes like this, Roman’s crying slowly started weakening and he finally calmed down. Still, he stood hugged to Roman for a few minutes more in silence, Logan still petting his hair. It was finally Logan who broke the silence.
“Are you okay now, Roman?”
Roman just nodded in silence, still reluctant to let go off Logan.
“Take all the time you need, then tell me what happened.”
Roman still stood hugged to Logan for five minutes. Then he finally let go.
“Thank you, Logan… oh, I’m so sorry, your shirt and necktie are soaking wet.”
“That’s not important, but it tells me that you have lost a lot of hydration, so here…” Logan invoked a bottle of water and gave it to Roman “drink some water, you need it and it will make you feel better.”
Roman started drinking. He really was thirsty as he finished the whole 24 ounces of water in no time.
“Want some more?”
“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Logan.”
“Now tell me calmly and slowly everything that happened, Roman.”
Roman proceeded to tell him how the day was for him. Logan listened to the whole story without interrupting him, focusing all his attention on Roman.
“...and then you arrived” said Roman, finishing the story.
“I see…” Logan said pensively “I can understand Thomas’ reaction to some extent, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to be so nasty to you, Roman. I’d say that you startled him so bad he acted out of instinct, in fear. It was just bad luck and bad timing, that’s all.
“I’m not so sure… Thomas hates me, especially after my appearance in the meeting.”
“I strongly disagree, I don’t think Thomas hates you, Roman. I’m sure under other circumstances, he would have loved to see your story. Thomas has always loved those worlds of fiction you invented for him. Even if I never fully understood them, I knew they made him happy and that was enough for me to approve your labor. You just caught him busy and stressed out, that’s all. And we all say things when we’re angry we regret later.”
“Have you ever been angry in your life, Logan? I thought…”
“Who hasn’t been angry at some point in his life, Roman? No matter if it’s for something that happened to us or something that happened to others or in the world, everyone experiences anger from time to time, it’s as natural as breathing. But anger always calms down and allows us to judge things more calmly. I’m sure Thomas will have that time to ponder what happened and he’ll come to you.”
“Do you think so?” Roman said, then he noticed the floor all full of pieces of papers “Oh, look at what I’ve done… my story idea is all ruined. Now Thomas will never see it…”
“Can’t you rewrite it all again?”
“No, I don’t think so. Once I put an idea into paper, it’s like waking up from a dream, I forget most of it. I could try to rebuild it from the pieces, but it would never be the same.”
“I can help you pick up the papers and maybe from the little pieces…”
“I don’t know, it would take forever and Thomas cannot stay that long without a story idea.”
Thomas rises up in Roman’s room.
“There you are, Roman!” Thomas said.
“Thomas? What… what are you doing here?”
“I’m so sorry, Roman. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I treated you all day during and after the meeting. I hope you can forgive me.”
“It’s okay, Thomas. It was my fault for appearing so suddenly. I thought you had finished the meeting but I was wrong. I apologize too.”
“Well, now I’m totally free for you and I can see that bright creation of yours, if you still want me to.”
“If I still want you to? Nothing would have made me happier, Thomas. Unfortunately, it’s too late…”
“Why, where is it?”
“You’re standing over it.”
Thomas looked at his feet, saw all the pieces of paper and understood.
“Oh, Roman, I’m so sorry… But maybe we can fix it.”
“We could try, but it would take forever and it would never look the same as it was when I first created it. I don’t know if it’s worth the time to try.”
“Yes, it probably would never look the same… but it could look even better than before. Let’s pick up the pieces and get everything we can from them. You are Creativity, you’re not gonna get scared by a little hard work, do you?”
“Of course I won’t. I’ll do my best to reconstruct the idea if you want me to, Thomas.”
“And we’ll recruit the help from everyone, that way we’ll finish it faster, and maybe everyone could give their contributions. It can be a fun task for the rest of the day, okay?”
“Okay, Thomas. I’ll do my best.”
Thomas gave Roman a short but very tight hug that pleased Roman, then called the others. It took a few hours, but everyone together managed to pick up all the pieces, reorder everything they could and, filling the gaps with everyone’s ideas, they managed to create a story that would eventually become one of Thomas’ most viewed and acclaimed videos ever, something Roman would always be proud of, especially because he had the chance to create it with the help of all his friends and that made that his most cherished creation of all.
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imjustwritingg · 2 years
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First of all, I’m glad it made you smile because the joy and comfort your writing has brought me on numerous occasions is absolutely UNMATCHED so you deserve a little bit of that joy and love in return (especially when the internet is as much of a cesspool as it can be sometimes 🙃). Your writing has completely changed the trajectory of my day or week on multiple occasions and I wish I could thank you in some way other than screaming in your ask box about asshole Jay and what my currently weekly schedule is 😂
That being said, I am definitely going to take you up on screaming at you some more because I’m not just invested… I’m ✨too✨ invested 😂
You’ve somehow managed to take all of my favourite tropes in writing and combine them into this incredible fic and I can’t handle it 90% of the time because the spiral is real!! Everything about that conversation at dinner absolutely sent me and I cannot wait for more Jay/Adam/Kevin conversations surrounding Hailey. Jay being an absolute douche canoe but knowing that underneath all of his hurt is the worlds largest teddy bear who just wants a hug (couldn’t help myself 😂) makes me lose my shit thinking about where you are going to take these characters. Protective older brother Adam is absolutely everything and Hailey telling him to step back because she is a grown ass woman was… uuuuugggggghhhhhh. The spiral is R E A L, Morgan, it’s real 😂
I can’t wait to see what happens with Hailey and mama Halstead because I just know you’ve included her with all of the chaos up your sleeve and I’m definitely not ready for it but I’m also so ready for it.
I’m also obsessed with all of the ways you’ve written Hailey challenging Jay and giving it right back to him, often better than she gets it. This new arrangement they’ve entered into is going to kill me. And then I’m going to come back from the dead to read the next chapter, and it’s going to kill my ghost. Even though Hailey ultimately initiated their fun time at wedding, and Jay made her admit that she wanted him (dead. I’m dead again just thinking about it), I CANNOT wait for Hailey to jump him out of the blue because of their new arrangement. Whether it’s at his office or the club or his place or wherever it ends up happening, I am ready for her to seek out Jay and initiate it completely and his response to that will kill me.
Hope you don’t regret inviting me to yell some more 😂 I reread the entire fic today and I’m spiralling and now you’ve gotten paragraphs of my word vomit thrown at you 😂🤷🏼‍♀️ the overarching gist is that I’m losing my shit over your story and I’m super grateful you are continuing to write and share 💕
Wow. You truly are invested and I was stunned for a moment when I saw this message, and then I teared up as I started reading.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!
I shall continue this below the cut so I don’t annoy anyone with our musings my friend. 😅
I’m always here for yelling and for chaos of any kind. I don’t know why, but I truly thrive in the chaos. It really is my brand and I don’t think that will ever change. 😅😂
The dinner scene in the last chapter was so much fun to write!! I had this very vivid picture in my head of it playing out and all of them sitting around the table and the scene unfolded just I had hoped. I’m so, so glad you enjoyed it!!
There will definitely be more scenes and conversations involving those three!
Describing Jay as a teddy bear who just wants a hug made me giggle. You’re not exactly wrong there, but it might take a little while before he gets his hug. That guy has got some walls up for sure that need a wrecking ball to be knocked down.
Hailey is a queen. I don’t know what else to say about her. She’s just wonderful and I love her. We always love a good spiral. 😉
Mama Halstead. I love her. I LOVE HER. I will forever be bitter about the fact that we didn’t get to meet her so I had to include her somehow, some way, if not for my own sanity and headcanons. I have absolutely included her for reasons which will be shown soon. Or soonish?
Hailey challenging Jay and throwing it all right back at him is some of the most fun I’ve written in fic. She’s just so sassy and stubborn, and she takes no shit. Not very different at all to how she is on the show honestly, but it still somehow feels a little different. If that makes sense.
Oh it is for sure Hailey’s turn to seek him out. Better be careful what you wish for friend. 😉
I never regret yelling about fic or Upstead or both. Those idiots have the tightest hold on me and I fear they ain’t ever letting go.
Your messages have made my night, my week, my everything. The response to this story has been so incredibly mind blowing and I cannot thank you enough for reading it and loving it and caring about anything my brain comes up with. Seriously. Thank you. 💜💜
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