#Hopefully you all will stick around after the holidays since I have more on the way but we’ll see.

[kittylover776]

Chapter 5 of ‘Runaway Bride’ is finally up and running! :)

Posting it on Christmas Eve at midnight is better than nothing. XD

[realcube]

dilf december

day twenty-one ⭑ doppo kunikida ⭑ naughty list ?!

tw: nsfw minors dni, sexting, heavy implact play and degradation

everything is so boring when you are home alone.

workload at the ADA suprisingly seems to surge around the holiday season, meaning kunikida has to stick around at the office for longer, leaving you in the house all alone, with nothing to do. the place was spotless, since you had already done every chore conceivable. as for preparing dinner, it made more sense to begin once kunikida messaged you saying that he was on his way home, that way it will be nice and hot upon his arrival.

hence that left you with an hour, in which you had nothing to do but mope around. of course you had sources of entertainment in your home, like a tv and a console, but neither really called to you.

however, the messenger app on your phone did.

you rushed to your shared bedroom and spent the an hour throwing on different sets of lignerie and negligees you owned, posing for all sorts of seductive photos in the full length mirror. each position you took was even more raunchy and revealing than the prior. some were silly and light-hearted, while others were intense and could believably be found on the cover of a porn mag.

and you recklessly sent image after image after image, not thinking much of it. you assumed that his phone would be on silent during office hours, then he would be in for a little treat when he clocked out, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

you realise your mistake when your husband comes storming in to the house. while leaning against the bannister of the staircase in the foyer, you attempt to welcome him home in a seductive manner — dressed in a see-through gossamer negligee — but he is entirely dismissive of you; focussed on the removal of his jacket and neatly hanging it up on the coat rack, not paying your lewd antics any mind.

once he has completed all his routine duties upon entering the house — such as taking off his shoes and placing his work bag aside — the air in the room turns cold as his piercing stare finally lands upon your scantily clad form.

he storms towards you with an unwaveringly cruel glint in his eye, and before you have a moment to react, he scoops you up in his arm and hauls you upstairs to your shared bedroom.

"kunikida! what're you doing?" you yelp, not bothering to struggle against his strong grasp. he's quite strong so he is able to pick you up with a single arm, carrying you under his arm and hauling you to the bedroom in a similar fashion to the way a farmer would carry a chicken.

"what are you doing, is the better question." he corrects sternly, in the displeased and aggravated tone that you know all too well, "sending me all those lewd photographs while you knew i was at work."

clearly you have sent him on a tirade, so once you finally arrive at the bedroom and he carelessly throws you onto the bed, you know better than to argue and simply listen, innocently gazing up at him through your lashes to hopefully soften the blow.

"i see you are messaging me so i open my phone — thinking it was an emergency — but no, your entire nude body is now covering my screen! you're lucky i was in my office, what if i was in a meeting and other people saw that?" he huffs, pacing back and forth across the length of the bedroom, yelling out into the emptiness of the room opposed to directly at you. though he would shoot you the occassional pointed glare. "not only that, but know that i've seen the images, i have to conceal my, uh, feelings towards them. i couldn't get up out of my office chair for half an hour, (y/n)!"

you fail to quell a snicker at the thought of kunikida being chair-bound due to a boner, which causes him to halt in his tracks and stare at you with a dumbfounded expression. "is this funny to you?" he asks, deadpan.

before you can even open your mouth to croak out a response, kunikida hastily approaches you on the bed, harshly grabbing at your thigh, "because it's not. you should know better than to send me such depraved images during work hours, but you clearly you need a reminder." he tells you through gritted teeth. then, he uses his grip on your thigh to flip you over, so you are lay on your stomach, and pull you down so you are bent over the edge of bed; with your stomach flat against the sheets and your legs hanging off the side.

he runs his big hand over the flesh off your ass, which is stuck out all pretty for him and is partially veiled under the gossamer of your negligee, but mostly on display, especially once kunikida has pushed the fabric aside as he caressed your ass.

his fingers then begin to explore between your folds, barely inhibited by the embarrassingly thin string of your thong. the rough pads of his fingers rub lazy circles over your soaked labia and clit. "so wet already.." a precise balance of fast and slow to make you squirm yet desperate for more stimulation, which he would happily deny as he pull his hand away from your cunt, licking his fingers clean.

"when did you become such a slut?" he spits, his palm making firm with your ass he does so. the loud 'slap' noise resonating throughout the room, shortly followed by your incoherent whimpers and sobs that you feebly try to choke back.

"please.." you whine, knuckles paling as you grip the cotton covers, "i won't do it again."

"yes, you will." he says defnitively, "because you're just a little attention whore." his sentence is puntuated with another hard slap on the ass, provoking a guttural gasp from you as a reaction to the painful impact.

"you'll do anything for me to play with this needy pussy, huh?" he asks while using the heel of his hand to carelessly rub your folds for a moment, then immediately slap your cunt afterwards, sending electric jolts of pleasure and pain up your spine and through your stomach.

"so here is all the attention you so desperately need." another spank hits your ass; the sting causes you to wince and moan in response.

"that feel good, princess?" he asks, mostly sardonically, his relentless hand spanking your ass repeatedly, each time more brutual than the last, surely searing a burning handprint into your skin. it hurt more each time, hinted at by your quiet whimpers and mewls. but also your pussy would spit out more arousal with each intense impact, which gave mixed signals.

you had lost count of the amount of spanks before he eventually paused, stroking your aching cheeks as he idled, "i asked you a question."

previously you were unable to answer the question because you were preoccupied with choking out faint pleas and cries, but now that he has halted his ruthless attack on your ass, you are able to stutter, "it felt good, sweetie." your face is consumed by the heat of the covers which you bury yourself into.

"good.." he muses, continuing to gently caress your sore skin, "you know i only do this because i care. so much. i could never ignore a message that you send me; i worry far too much about you to do that, so i have to view it. and if i open it in front of my co-workers, i would hate it if they saw something meant for my eyes only. understand, sweetheart?"

"mhm.." you hum. pleased with the kind and relaxed way he was speaking to you, but his change in tone was so sudden that it could've gave you whiplash. not that you were complaining.

"i enjoyed the photos. you are so gorgeous, (y/n). don't stop taking them." he softly squeezes the fat of your thigh and asks, "does it hurt badly?"

"kinda." you reply timidly.

he bends over and plants a kiss your ass, peppering them over your warm skin before straightening himself. "i'll be gentler next time." his hand wanders from your ass, down between your thighs to carefully poke at your clit, "now, let's take care of my needy girl.."

[steddieas-shegoes]

underneath the tree

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'tree'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 589 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, slice of life, christmas presents

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

Rory doesn’t believe in Santa anymore, so presents have been piling up under the tree for days. Most of them are for her, from Steve and Eddie, but there’s one that’s for Steve from Eddie.

Steve stares at it from the couch. He’s supposed to be making packets for back to school in a week, but the shiny wrapping paper is distracting. It’s not too big, and looks like a box that might hold clothing, but Eddie wouldn’t buy him any clothes after the last time he tried.

Steve kept the sweater, but it’s still the ugliest thing he owns.

It’s heavy, too. Steve already picked it up once and tried to move it around gently to see if he could recognize the noise it made.

He still has no clue.

It’s especially irritating because Steve struggled so much this year to find something Eddie would want. He’s usually pretty easy to buy for, loves trinkets and sentimental things, but not this year.

When asked what he wanted, Eddie told everyone nothing and stood by it.

Even when the new Bauer goalie stick came out, he insisted he didn’t want it.

Steve shakes his head, tries to focus back on the task at hand. He doesn’t know why he’s so hung up on this gift, but he vows to do his best to ignore it until he’s done.

It lasts a whole four minutes before he’s setting the papers down and walking over to the tree. It can’t hurt to pick it up, test the weight again.

He’s still at a loss when Rory walks in, yawning and wiping her eyes. She had an early morning practice followed by a clinic and two tests online, so Steve told her to go take a nap before her evening ice time.

He sets the gift down, but she saw him before he could pretend he wasn’t being nosy.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to touch the presents before Christmas?” Rory asks.

“You aren’t. I can.”

“That doesn’t seem very fair,” Rory argues.

She’s not wrong, but Steve wants to drop it and move on so he doesn’t have to explain himself.

“How was your nap?” He asks instead of answering her.

“It was fine. Dad won’t be happy about you trying to figure it out.”

Steve sighs. He knows. And he knows if he ruins it for himself he’ll be upset, too.

“I just don’t know what it could be. We said we’d just buy one small gift, but it feels heavy, and he hasn’t even given any hints.”

“That is unlike him. Maybe you should just check his internet history,” Rory suggests.

“That’s cheating,” Eddie says from the front door. He’s got a huge smile on his face, one that Steve knows means he overheard most of their conversation.

“Hey dad,” Rory greets him with a wave before she walks to the kitchen. She probably should get some snacks in her system if she wants to have energy for later.

“Hey little one,” he says back, voice filled with the same fondness he’s had since day one. “Caught him trying to sneak a peek?”

“I wasn’t gonna open it!” Steve exclaims. “I’m just curious.”

“You could open it early if it’s killing you that much,” Eddie offers.

“I can wait. It’s gonna kill me, but I can.”

****

The next day, there’s three more presents stacked in front of Steve’s gift, hiding it completely from view.

Steve looks at the tree with a smirk.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Hopefully.

[reidsrambles]

Part 1: New Year's Eve

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Description: My only New Year's Eve plan is to help my best friend Penelope entertain her many party guests. When I find myself alone with her coworker, Spencer (who I've had a crush on for ages), it seems that my New Year's might turn out different than I had planned.

(Content/Warnings below the cut)

Content/Warnings: [18+ MDNI] smut, protected (condom) PiV sex, oral sex (F receiving), brief mention of being drunk or high in the past

A/N: This fic is part 1 of a duo. Part 2: New Year's Day is in the works, and will hopefully be posted on time! I came up with this idea literally yesterday, and I've been writing like a madman since then, so edits might be made to this one after posting. I'm posting it right before midnight my time! Credit to @saradika-graphics for the divider graphics, including the one I cropped below.

Names used: Baby

Words (this chapter): 2,025

Words (total): 5,759

Penelope has always thrown stellar parties, but this one might be her largest to date. I can hear the music streaming from her apartment all the way down the hall. I sift through the keys on my keyring to find the one I need: my copy of her house key.

Streamers, balloons, and shimmery garlands cover the walls of Penelope’s apartment. There are somehow more guests than I’d expected. Penelope tends to make friends wherever she goes. Still, I didn’t expect for what seems to be everyone she knows to be free tonight. Many guests don party hats. Some are also wearing those silly New Year’s glasses with lenses in the shape of numbers. Not even two steps in the door, and I jump as someone prematurely blows a noisemaker.

Different dishes that partygoers have brought cover every inch of Penelope’s kitchen island. A potluck of appetizers and various salads, from the leafy green kind to the macaroni or potato variety. I squeeze around the guests loitering in her kitchen, leaning against the counter, probably because there’s nowhere to sit. Inside her fridge, it’s like playing Jenga, trying to find a spot to shove the champagne bottles I bought. 

Penelope’s dazzling emerald dress sticks out in the sea of black and metallic fits. Nobody can upstage the hostess, dare they try. I wrap my best friend in a hug from behind and she reflexively smacks my arm before realizing it’s me.

“Oh, my god!” she shrieks. She looks annoyed, rolling her eyes, but my behavior has garnered chuckles from the group she’s chatting with. Two knitting club friends. “Look who finally showed up! She conveniently had to work all day while I finished setting up.” 

I was here on Sunday doing all the decorating grunt work, but I choose to not argue the semantics. I’ll let her have the upper hand. Consider it an apology for the jump scare, Penelope.

“It’s not my fault that New Year’s Eve isn’t a holiday, and I, like most people, work a Monday-to-Friday, nine-to-five. You are aware of that, right?”

Penelope pecks my cheek before swiping at it with her thumb to wipe her bright red lipstick off. I ask her if she needs help with anything, as a good best friend to the hostess does, but predictably, she’s on top of everything. 

I make my rounds, catching up with the many people I already know and greeting those I haven’t met. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting yet! I’m Penelope’s best friend.” 

Hours pass, filled with stories of so-and-so’s new baby or graduation or other meaningful milestone. Then there are the few party games I’m roped into. On the plus side, every time I loop back around past the kitchen, I pick at the hors d'oeuvres. After work, I picked up the champagne, and then came straight here. The finger foods will suffice as dinner, I suppose.

From the spot I’ve claimed as my own against the wall, I watch my best friend, with her seemingly infinite social battery, open the door and gleefully welcome a couple I’ve never seen. How are people still showing up!? 

With a quick flick of the wrist, I glance at my watch. Still two hours to midnight. Ugh, shit.

I push myself off the wall and snake my way through the field of bodies, metaphorical white flag a-waving. 

“Pen, I know we’re getting closer to midnight, but I need to go take a nap or something. I’m absolutely drained. Just let me recharge for a few, and then I’ll be back out here. Promise.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Penelope says, guiding me a mere two feet to the side—all the crowd will allow. “I’ve seen you chatting it up all night. You know you don’t have to do that, my love. I’ve had the bedrooms locked, but Spencer was feeling a bit overwhelmed, so I let him into the guest bedroom if you want to join him in there.” She’s sincere, but teasing, gently bumping my shoulder with hers. Her innuendo is far from lost on me.

Huh, yeah. Spencer’s  the only one on her team, besides Aaron Hotchner, who I haven’t already bumped into tonight. Hotch is probably at home with the family. Where has Spencer been all night? He is usually a bit of a wallflower whenever he does show up to parties. Being friends with Penelope since childhood and moving out to D.C. with her, I’ve gotten to know everyone she’s close with, especially her coworkers. I’ve had a teensy-weensy crush on Spencer Reid since I first met him, not long after I moved out here, and Penelope’s teased me about it ever since. 

I pull my lips tight and nod. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”

Yes, I’ve gotten to know Spencer quite a bit over the years, which has not helped ease my crush, but there’s no way he thinks of me as anything more than a friend. He probably just thinks of me as a friend-of-a-friend or as an acquaintance. Even worse… 

It’s kind of become a cycle. I start seeing someone or get into a whole relationship, and then I don’t have to think about Spencer at all, which is great. But, when I inevitably become single again and Penelope mentions his name, the longing starts all over again.

It’s just a crush, though. Everyone has crushes. And most people don’t act on these types of crushes. Why would I put Penelope in the middle of that?

The hall where Penelope’s bedroom, the guest bedroom, and a bathroom are is already much quieter than the rest of her house. All the noise is coming from behind me. The quiet is calling to me like a siren’s song; hopefully just luring me into a 20-minute catnap, if I’m lucky.

I gently tap my knuckles against the guest bedroom door twice before opening it. Only the nightstand lamps are on, and this cozy, warm room feels like escaping to actual Heaven right now. Spencer is sitting on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap.

“Hey, mind if I join you?” I ask, my heart rate ramping up instead of slowing down. 

“[Y/N], hey! Of course. Did Penelope tell you I was hiding away in here?”

I close the door behind me, and the roar of the party dies down to a rumble. “Well, I told her that I needed to get away from the crowd for a little bit, maybe take a nap or something, and she said she had just let you in here. My social battery died like, an hour ago.”

I join Spencer on the edge of the bed, keeping a respectable amount of distance. 

“I’m not much of a party person if you haven’t already figured that out,” he says.

“I don’t think I am either, honestly. Well, not anymore, at least. I was a little bit of a partier when I went off to college. But as I’m sure you could guess, me and Penelope weren’t really a part of the ‘in’ crowd as teenagers.”

“Is college the only time you and Penelope weren’t attached at the hip?”

“Yeah,” I laugh. “Basically. Right before I sent off my college applications, we had gotten into a fight over something stupid. It was so stupid, that neither of us can remember what it was over. But, instead of applying to CalTech with her, I applied to a couple schools I knew she wasn’t applying to. I ended up getting accepted to Georgia Tech. Literally, the other side of the country. I think that I had it in my head that I was going to show her that she’d miss me.”

“And then you guys made up?”

“We literally made up two days after I sent off my applications, yeah,” I nod, my story earning a laugh from Spencer.

“I can’t believe I haven’t heard that story before.”

Another rogue noisemaker is sounded, muffled by the wall between us and the chaos, but it’s enough of a surprise to startle both of us.

“Sorry,” he says, “I should’ve asked. Did you want the room to yourself? I don’t mind if you need me to step out.”

“Oh, no. I’m completely fine. If I wanted to be alone, I could’ve just gone to Penelope’s room. It’s not like you’re a stranger or anything. As long as you don’t mind if I accidentally pass out.”

I sit up and round the bed to the far side, and when I slip under the sheets, I regret my choice of a black skirt and tights for tonight. Spencer sits on top of the sheets on the other side.

“I really wish I hadn’t left my book out in the living room,” he jokes. 

“So, you’re saying I don’t get a bedtime story?”

I try, as discreetly as I can, to slip my tights off under the sheets. Every time I adjust my position, I tug them down a little bit more.

“If you want me to read to you, I can,” he says.

Got ‘em down to my knees.

“I forgot about that whole memory thing,” I laugh. “What’s that called, again?”

“I have an eidetic memory. It’s primarily for things I’ve read, though.”

So close.

“I mean, you definitely don’t have to, but if wanted to read me something, it would be really helpful to mask the noise.”

Yes! Finally. I’m freeee.

I kick my tights off my feet under the covers (a problem for me to deal with later, when I’m more awake) and I can breathe a sigh of comfort at last.

Spencer begins to speak, but I cut him off.

“Sorry. Just don’t let me sleep more than 20 minutes. I’m aiming for 15, even. I should be out like a light. I’m a good napper. Gold-medal worthy.”

I flop back down onto the bed and let my heavy eyelids fall shut. Spencer reads some story aloud with no text in front of him. As I drift off, his voice lulling me to sleep, I know this is going to be something that I playback from memory in the future. A decayed version in my own, fallible memory.

The world is dark, but noisy. I haven’t yet gathered the strength to open my eyes, but the rest of my senses are slowly feeding my brain information. I feel a steady rise and fall against my back. Breathing. A man’s face nuzzled into my neck. I’m being spooned from behind, but he isn’t under the covers with me. He’s above them. Even through the fabric, I can feel him against my ass. The hardness between his legs pressed into my backside. Where the hell am I?

It’s New Year’s Eve. Penelope’s guest bedroom. Spencer.

Spencer’s breathing picks up, and as my eyes flit open, I’m ripped from my sleepy bliss and plunged into utter panic. He’s woken up too. Spencer jumps out of bed at the same time I do, clearly stunned.

“[Y/N], I am so, so sorry. I completely didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Shit. No, I’m sorry.”

Does he know I have a crush on him? Is he going to think I planned that? In my barely-awake daze, I jump to the worst-case scenario. 

Spencer just keeps rambling apologies and swearing up and down that he fell asleep by mistake. My disorganized words of reassurance don’t seem to be cutting through. 

“10... 9…” 

The chanting from outside our bubble only takes a moment for me to register. It’s already midnight?

“8…7…” 

Spencer still hasn’t shut up. Before I can fully realize what I’m doing, I round the bed to where he’s standing. He stops mid-sentence.

“6…5…4…” 

He hears it. He realizes. Our faces are so close; mine, angled up to his. Was I going to say something to calm him down? I don’t remember anymore. His eyes are darting across my face, mirroring my gaze. Eyes, lips. Eyes, lips. 

“3…2…1…”

Our lips crash together right as a chorus of Happy New Years and noise-makers chimes.

Spencer Reid’s lips. On mine. 

Next Chapter: New Year's Day

AO3 | Tumblr | Masterlist

[ihearthes]

Christmas Thyme part 1

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Reader Insert (1st person)

Rating: Smut (NSFW, 18+ Only)

Word Count: 2665

‘Tis a week before Christmas, and just as I am preparing to twist the “Open” sign to its “Closed” side, the bell over the door jingles. Inwardly, I groan. Outwardly, I paste on my brightest smile as I pivot towards my (hopefully) final customer of a very long, very exhausting day. 

I freeze. 

Because standing there in the doorway of my boutique is Harry Styles. THE Harry Styles. You know. As It Was. Watermelon Sugar. Sex on a stick. That last one isn’t a song. Just a description. 

“Um, hi,” I mumble, not knowing what else to say, but then I quickly tack on a “How may I help you?” 

His eyebrows draw downwards, and he looks around at the merchandise which, after a long day of Saturday sales in the last few frantic days before the most important gift-buying holiday of the year, is scattered everywhere. 

I’ve no idea if I want him to decide to leave immediately or if I should beg him to stay and shop. I do neither. 

But only because I spot another person on the street outside, pointing at one of the most sought after and most frequently purchased soy candles. She and her friend appear to be heading towards the door, so I summon the last of my energy and lunge for the door ahead of them, pulling the shade while simultaneously rotating the lock. My panicked movements mean I jostle the popstar as he stands nearby. 

“Oops! I’m so sorry. I just…” 

“Are you open or closed?” He asks, worry etched on his forehead where it peeks out underneath his black beanie. I take him in, recognising his face instantly. With a pair of joggers, he wears a black Pleasing crewneck, and I’m briefly jealous of how cosy it looks. I wouldn’t mind snuggling close – to the crewneck, of course. 

I am, after all, a competent businesswoman. Pfft. Okay, I’m trying to be one. 

“We’re closed now, but if you don’t have much to shop for, you’re welcome to look around while I tidy up in preparation for Tuesday’s maniacal clientele. 

He grunts, and I assume it’s affirmation that he’d like to look around, so I nod. “Are you looking for something in particular? Or shopping for a certain someone?” Wracking my brain, I attempt to recall if he’s currently dating anyone, but I’ve no idea. Since opening up my pop up last month, I’d not had time to do much more than work daily until exhaustion forces me to crawl into bed with a heating pad on my back and warm peppermint compresses on my feet. 

“Just looking…” He smiles, and I’m nearly blinded by the left dimple. 

Holy shit. No wonder he’s so popular. 

I have the silly idea that I should sniff him. It would be easy to make a tonne of money from bottling his scent and selling it. Then I would have enough money to set up a permanent shop to sell my organic candles, soaps, and lotions. 

Resisting only because I have managed to maintain some self-respect after being yelled at and cursed at by customers all day long, I decide to provide him some privacy. 

“Absolutely. Let me know if you have any questions.” 

He nods once, and I swear my insides melt into a puddle like Frosty the Snowman when the sun has come out. 

Stepping to the counter, I fiddle with the sound system, turning off the grating holiday tunes that permeate the atmosphere this time of year and sliding instead into some soothing jazz from Alfa Mist. As soon as the first song starts playing, Harry’s head whips around and he stares in my direction. 

“Excellent choice.” His voice is gravelly and kind with a bit of surprise in it. 

“It’s the kind of music I prefer,” I shrug, not knowing what else to say. 

“Me too.” 

It’s such a surprising thing for him to say that I do my own double take, but he’s returned already to smelling the candles on the wall display. 

Shrugging, I move to the first shelves to the right of the register, straightening products, and making mental notes of what I need to restock. When I move to the next set of shelves, though, it’s clear that a mental note isn’t going to be of any help. There are simply too many hand lotions, soaps, and other products that need to be replaced. Sighing, I move behind the counter again, withdrawing a pad of paper. Quickly, I jot down what I need to replace on the first two shelves. 

Turning my head, I see that Harry has barely finished sniffing one shelf of candles. “Um…” He glances up at my utterance. “...would you mind if I stepped into the back to grab some more stock?” 

“Whatever you need to do.” His voice is so silky that I could easily wear it and nothing else against my skin forever. 

In the small stockroom, I remove my shoes, wiggling my toes that have been screaming at me for the last two hours. Grabbing a basket I keep for just this purpose, I fill it with the items on my list before stepping back onto the main floor. The coolness of the tiles under my toes is soothing, and I sigh at the pleasure of it on my hot skin. Quickly, I restock the first two shelves, giving my feet a workout as I have to rise onto my toes multiple times. My knees also get to practise squatting so I can place items on the bottom shelf. 

After I slide my protesting feet back into my shoes, I sneak a peek to check on Harry. He’s moved on to the next set of shelves, opening the sample shampoos and smelling them one by one. 

At this rate, he’ll be here another hour at least. 

Surveying the third set of shelves, I jot down the merchandise I need to pull from the back for this one. It’s the shelf of eye compresses I’ve made that include differing herbs to soothe the skin around the eyes and quiet the mind. With a quick glance at Harry, I return to the storeroom, trying to recall where I’d placed the box holding more eye compresses. 

Spying it on a higher shelf, hiding behind a box of the scented rice neck pillows I’d designed to be heated and worn next to the skin, I stand on my tiptoes in order to reach. Just — one — more — inch — CRASH! Both boxes clatter to the ground, the sides splitting open on the box holding the neck pillows, and I sigh. 

“Are you okay?” 

His voice startles me, and I jump like that time I’d been forced to watch a horror movie by my previous boyfriend. The arsehole. 

Placing my hand on my chest to calm my pounding heart, I smile at where his head has emerged through the curtain separating the sales floor and stockroom. 

“Thank you for checking on me. I’m okay. Just knocked off a couple of boxes.” 

“Shit. That looks annoying. Let me help.” He muscles his way past the curtain, assisting me by setting the box right side up. I locate the roll of packing tape I’d used earlier to package some items for a customer who wanted them delivered, handing the tape to Harry as he repairs the box. “I’m Harry.” His introduction is endearing, and I share my name too. 

“No one else working tonight?” His hushed tones do things to my body that are inappropriate for work. 

“No one else is working ever. It’s my shop, and I couldn’t afford to pay for help this year.” 

“Damn. How do you manage?” 

“Well, I take it slow on nights like this with the restocking and tidying because I know I’ll get the next two days to soak my feet and relax.”

“But how do you do it during the day with all the customers?” 

“I think that’s clear from the state of the front. I muddle through.” My shrug is intended to communicate that there’s no real answer to that question. 

“Can I help?” 

“YOU?” I yelp, clamping both hands over my mouth at my shriek. 

“Why not me?” 

“Um, cause you’re Harry Styles.” 

When he smiles this time, his eye crinkles come into focus, and I’m lost in him. I could stare at those crows’ feet all night, I think. 

“And that means I can’t help?” 

“It means that you probably have plenty of plans that don’t include stocking shelves.” 

“Hmmm… tonight, I actually do not have plans. My sister and I were supposed to shop for our mum, and then my sister ended up ill, so…” Trailing off, he raises both hands to the side in imitation of a shrug. “You can pay me by helping me choose gifts for my mum and my sister. And my manager’s wife. And maybe the wives of my friends.” 

“That’s silly. I’d help you with that for free.” 

“Ah, well then, you can take me out to dinner after we’re done.” 

My jaw drops. Dinner with Harry Styles? 

Is he asking me out on a date? 

“Just as repayment, right?” I ask. 

“For starters,” he smirks, and my panties become uncomfortable as I rub my legs together. “I’ll take these boxes out front.” Bending his knees, he picks up the box of neck pillows with the box of eye compresses on top. Striding through the curtain, he drops the boxes on the floor and immediately starts artfully arranging the merchandise. Occasionally, he brings a pillow to his nose and breathes in deeply. 

Mesmerised, I watch from the door to the store room. After a few minutes, he removes his coat, carefully draping it over the counter, smiling at me as I straighten the bottles of lotion on the table, ensuring that the rosemary mint doesn’t get mixed up with the rosemary thyme. It’s easy to get them confused as the labels are similar. 

“How long did it take you to prepare all of this?” Harry asks, his hand encompassing the entire shop. 

“All year. My dad –” I pause as emotion invades my throat, layering it with sorrow. Finally, I swallow, clearing the grief. “My dad was ill for the last couple of years, so I quit my job to move in and take care of him. I started growing the herbs in his garden. And then I needed something to do with all of the herbs I grew, so I started making soaps and selling them at the local farmer’s market. Demand was swift, and I’ve been expanding the line for the last eight months or so.” 

“That’s amazing!” His face has lit up like the Christmas tree that’s in the corner of the shop, and his grin takes over his entire countenance. “And how’s your dad doing now?” 

I wince. “He actually died in July.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss.” 

My watery smile hopefully conveys my gratitude. “He was ready to go. At least that’s what he told me. And I needed a project after his death to keep me busy while I cleaned out the house and prepared to sell it.” 

“Sell it? Why?” 

Moving to the next table, I straighten the bars of soap. Wiping a tear from my eye, I answer his question. “Too many memories. I’ve had a lot of loss in my life, and now I’m the only one left in my immediate family. So when I’m in the house, all I can see are the people no longer with me.” 

“That must be hard.” His hand rests on my shoulder, and I’m startled because I hadn’t realised he’d approached. 

“It’s life. Lucky for me, I have my dreams to keep me going.” 

“Dreams of expanding beyond a popup shop at the holidays?” 

“Something like that,” I nod. 

“Sounds lovely. Listen, I’m done with these shelves, and those over there look pretty good. I, um, straightened them earlier when I was testing the product. Is there a broom so I can sweep up?” 

Astonished, I blink at him. “No. No. No. I draw the line at having a number one pop musician sweep my floor.” 

He giggles, his laugh growing until he’s slapping his knee, his full body moving with glee as he heartily releases his mirth. “So if I were the number one classical musician or number one jazz musician or number one country musician, you’d be okay with me cleaning the floor?”

Seeing the humour in my comment, I laugh along with him. “Okay. Okay. You’ve found me out. Only pop musicians aren’t allowed to sweep up. Everyone else is fair game.” 

Bopping me on the nose, he grins. “Good thing I’m not a number one pop musician tonight. I’m just a customer who is quite taken with your goods.” 

And the way he rakes his eyes over my body lets me know that he’s not talking about the merchandise on the shelves. 

Dammit. Why don’t I keep a pair of spare knickers in my bag in case I run into the handsomest man alive? Because the ones I’m wearing right now are ruined. 

Sticking his head through the curtain and peering into the back, he joyfully exclaims, “There it is!” Seconds later, he’s pushing the broom around the shop floor, and I am both pleased and appalled. 

Reluctant to let him do all the work, I watch him and squirm. Using the broom as a partner, he dances to the music, and I can’t help the giggle that escapes. 

“I remember when you couldn’t dance at all,” I reveal, then clamp my hands over my mouth at my rudeness. 

“Some would say I still can’t.” 

“Screw ‘em.” I grin. “Listen, I’m about to count up the money for a night deposit. Are you planning to pay with cash or credit?” 

Wincing, he bites his lip, resting his arm on top of the broom handle. “Oh yeah. I was having so much fun that I forgot I was here to shop.” He looks around at the merchandise. “You’re taking me out for dinner, right?” One eyebrow raises while the other stays in place. It’s a talent not many have. 

“I believe that was the deal in exchange for your labour.”

“Then let’s eat first. I can tell you about those I need to shop for, and you can decide what would be most fitting for each.” 

“Hmmm…” I tease, “Are you trying to get out of buying products from me?” 

“Nope,” he grins, stepping closer to me. “Trying to let you get to know me more.” 

“Who's to say I don’t already know everything about you?” 

“Ah, I see.” The expression on Harry’s face is smug. “You wanna have a quiz? Find out what exactly you know and don’t know?” 

“Sure,” I smile, “but somehow I’m not sure I trust you. You could easily say all of my answers are wrong, and I wouldn’t be able to contradict you.” 

“Let’s start. What colour are my eyes?” 

“Are you taking the piss? They’re green. That one’s easy ‘cause I can see them.” 

“Okay, okay. You got one right. What colour are my lips?” 

Which of course drags my eyes right to the body part in question. And they look lush. Soft. Slightly chapped, but not enough to keep me from… 

Shit. I’ve gotten lost in staring at his lips. 

“I didn’t hear your answer.” 

My tongue dips out to lick my own lips, and he steps closer, his eyes locked on my tongue. Shaking my head, I dart my gaze back to his eyes, and I can feel his breath on my cheek. Leaning forward, he reaches his arm to my left, and I briefly wonder if he’s going to wrap his arm around my waist and haul me to him for a snogging session. 

Which is when he grabs his coat from the counter. 

“Let’s count the money so you can make your deposit. I’m getting hungry.” 

Really? I'm experiencing a powerful thirst.

Author's note: Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please reblog. I know not everyone reblogs, but it really helps writers out.

READ PART 2 HERE

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Day two: Contemporary

Ao3

Kurt wasn’t supposed to be baking today. Sure, it was Black Friday and he could’ve been up at 3 am and gone with Rachel and her new boyfriend to line up outside of some store. But frankly the deals being dished out aren’t the same as his childhood. Where is his 75% off televisions, America? Long gone are the days of waking his dad up to go to the mall on Black Friday. The sales just aren’t worth it when you can get a much better price thrifting or learning to sew your own clothes, which is exactly what Kurt has been doing since he got his sewing machine. Ironically, one of his last Black Friday purchases when he turned 16.

Plus, cooking Thanksgiving dinner is exhausting. Rachel is little to no hope in the kitchen. Kurt even cooked tofurkey for her and a small real turkey for himself. All Rachel added to the meal was a store brought pie; “Kurt the little grocery up the block is so cute!”

So, he wasn’t supposed to be baking but the apartment was empty and he was putting off writing an article for his internship at Trend-Z, a fashion magazine trying to appeal to the younger generations. This week’s topic “Fashions of Old Yore in the Contemporary World” was supposed to be a transitional piece from everyday wear to holiday. But Kurt doesn’t believe simply using the word “yore” makes it holiday themed.

Anyway, he’s baking and avoiding. The oven is well heated and his first batch of Christmas shaped sugar cookies actually look like trees and reindeer; a huge improvement over last year’s dicks and blobs.

It’s nearing 3pm when Rachel and Charlie (the new boyfriend) emerge from her bedroom. They came back from shopping around noon and gone straight back to bed but not without stealing a fresh sugar cookie.

“Good you’re up!” Kurt says, “try this.”

He hands her a spoonful of batter.

“New recipe?” Charlie asks.

“Experiment more like it,” Rachel replies, “needs less flour and I think you should add honey.”

“We don’t have any honey.”

She shrugs unhelpfully.

“I can run to the store,” Charlie offers.

Kurt shakes his head but is grateful for the offer. He kinda hopes Charlie sticks around because he’s the nicest of his roommate’s boyfriends thus far.

“I’ll go, just do me a favor and take the cookies out of the oven when the timer goes off in seven minutes.”

Charlie salutes him.

That’s how Kurt ends up doing a little shopping on Black Friday. Hopefully the grocery stores aren’t full of crazies.

Speaking of crazies, Rachel texts him the minute he steps into the store.

Rach: can you please get me heat protective spray I just ran out

Rach: oh and dental floss!

Rach: and apples! I think the ones in the fridge are bad

Kurt tells her “sure thing” and puts his phone in his back pocket. It vibrates again while he grabs a basket. This time it’s her boyfriend.

Charlie: Rachel is also requesting semi-sweet chocolate chips for the experimental cookies. But didn’t want to bug you again

He rolls his eyes but replies back that chocolate chips were already on his mental list.

Lining his items up makes Kurt realize just how bizarre they are: semi-sweet chocolate chips, flour, heavy cream, honey, apple sauce, apples, dental floss, heat protective spray, orange juice, and lemons.

He barely looks at the cashier, slightly worried to see his reaction to such items but the cashier, name tag says Blaine, starts up a casual conversation with him. Having worked in retail himself, Kurt knows how rough the job can be especially after a holiday so he’s polite and keeps up the conversation.

It’s nice to talk to someone new. It’s easy and over a little too quickly. Plus, Blaine is unarguably adorable.

Kurt wishes he wasn’t worried about cookies burning in his oven or maybe he could’ve asked Blaine when his shift ended and if he liked coffee.

[icybluepenguin]

Mistletoe

Summary: Astarion wants to kiss you. Luckily it's Midwinter, and he's come up with a plan that will definitely work this time. For the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 prompt "mistletoe"

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav(reader)

Tags: Astarion is bad at planning, friendly chaste kisses from the party, shenanigans, silly idea and silly story, fluff with maybe some feels if you squint

Note: This is just a silly idea that made me smile because this man can't plan his way out of a paper bag. Just winging it the whole way. I've been really struggling with my mental health and my brain is screaming at me that I should not post this- but I don't listen to my brain, it's not the boss of me! Make bad art, have fun with it, that's what I say. Hopefully it makes someone smile.

--

Astarion wanted to kiss you. 

Ever since you both had agreed to just being friends, he couldn't stop thinking about you and what he didn't have.  

Being friends was nice, it was.  He liked that there were no expectations.  He liked that you still always made time for him.  But he didn't want to be your friend the way Gale or Karlach was your friend. You listened to their problems, you hugged them, you told them they were good– and that was fine.  But he wanted more.  

He wanted to be special to you. He wanted you to be special to him.  He knew you well enough now to know that the nice part of “being friends” would also be part of “being together” in a way that wasn't just sex, but was care and connection and closeness. 

He wanted to kiss you again so badly, it was hard to think of anything else.  To feel your breath on his lips before he pressed them to yours, to be held in your arms because you cared for him, and to know that if he wanted, you'd stop. 

But he didn't know how to ask for it.  Not after the conversation about not wanting to have sex.  Kissing normally led to sex, and he didn't know if you would want to kiss him if it didn't.  If he were really honest with himself– which he tried not to be– he wasn't sure how he would feel about it either.  But he wanted it. 

So he hatched what he considered a devious, genius plan. 

It was hard to tell from the weather, but Karlach had been reminding everyone that it was nearly Midwinter.  The ground was clear of snow and there was only the faintest nip in the air, but the calendar didn't lie.  She had started decorating around the camp, making garlands for everyone's tents and trying to cook holiday treats over the campfire. 

The plan began when it was his turn to gather firewood. That was already his least favorite camp chore and whoever's turn it was to go with him usually made it even more unbearable.  It was dirty and heavy and the other person always got upset when he stopped to drink a squirrel or three.  This time, though, his partner was Halsin, who was more willing to do all the hard work and never chided Astarion for being what he called an “apex predator.” 

He was doing his best to ignore the druid's rambling about nature, until he heard the word “mistletoe.” 

“I have not seen much in this area, but it certainly is appropriate for the season.  It is feeding off this aspen, but it seems the tree is still thriving, for now.”  Halsin patted the tree as if congratulating it for doing a good job. 

“Look, a stick.  Do be a dear and pick that up,” Astarion drawled, examining his nails for imperfections. 

He marked the location in his head and resumed tuning out Halsin's lecture about parasitic plants. 

He snuck back later to harvest some of the mistletoe.  This would be perfect.  You wouldn't suspect a thing, he'd get to kiss you, and then it would be easier to talk about what he wanted. 

It wasn't until he got back to camp that he remembered you weren't staying in an inn or house with convenient doorways and roof beams to hang the mistletoe from. 

Sulking in his tent, he glared at the handful of mistletoe on his floor.  He couldn't just hang it in his tent, that would be too obvious.  He couldn't hang it in your tent for the same reason– and he didn't want anyone else kissing you.  

He began wandering around camp with his head craned back, looking for places to hang mistletoe from.  Which was fine until he tripped over Scratch and you giggled at the way the dog kept trying to lick his face while he was in the dirt. His stomach swooped into knots at the sound. Gods, he wanted to kiss you right there. 

There were a few branches overhanging the area they'd agreed on for weapons care and sharpening, after Lae'zel kept grinding her sword at all hours of the morning right next to the other tents. 

He waited until dark.  As quick and dexterous as he was, he wasn't the best at climbing trees.  Not a lot of opportunities in the middle of the city.  Not to mention living as a slave to a deranged sadist, he thought. 

He only fell out three times, which he considered a pretty decent showing– as long as no one was watching. 

In the morning, when it looked like you were getting your weapon, he pulled out his daggers and sat under the tree, making a show of honing them. 

He stood gracefully when he heard footsteps.  “Hello, dar-” 

“Oh, Fangs, look!  Mistletoe!”  Karlach had him in a tight hug before he could even think to say anything, lifting him off his feet like he weighed nothing.  She laid a happy kiss on his forehead and put him down.  “I wonder who put that up there.  Guess I'm not the only one looking forward to Midwinter!” 

“I guess not,” Astarion managed, smoothing his clothes down and picking up the daggers he'd dropped in surprise.  He felt oddly warm and cared for.  It made him defensive.  “It certainly wasn't me.  I don't need a plant to get someone to kiss my gorgeous face.”  

It must just be the fire of Karlach's engine making him so warm, he told himself as he sauntered into the woods- so she wouldn't see him gently touch the spot she'd kissed.  

When he got back, ready to wait for you, the mistletoe was gone. 

That night, he only fell out once hanging another sprig.  But he really hoped he wouldn't have to climb this damn tree again.  And he was going to make sure of it. 

It was easy to steal your weapon– you really were too heavy of a sleeper– taking it into the forest and slamming it into trees and rocks to dull it.  Now you'd have to  come sharpen it. 

He waited until he saw you come out of your tent holding it, a confused look on your face as you ran your finger down the ruined edge. 

Taking position back at the grinding station, he hid a smug grin.  Now, he'd get to kiss you and–

“Hello, Astarion.”  

Wyll, dammit.  Sounding very friendly and annoying. 

Astarion glanced at him. He was carrying your weapon. 

“Tav asked me to sharpen this for them while they help Gale with something,” Wyll explained.  “Oh, is that mistletoe? Karlach's certainly been busy.”  

Wyll put down your weapon and gave him courtly bow.  Astarion watched warily, but was completely shocked when Wyll took his hand and kissed his knuckles with a light tenderness that slammed him back into a life he'd thought he'd forgotten completely.  Bright, colorful parties, gaining favor with powerful people, the polite rituals of small talk…

“Are you going to ask me to dance next?” Astarion said sharply, shaking off the memory. 

“I wager you'd be amazing at it, if I did.”  Wyll dropped his hand and picked up your weapon again with a knowing smile. 

A harsh tsk interrupted whatever Astarion might have said back. 

“What are you two doing, this is a place to sharpen your weapons, not your tongues.”

Astarion sighed.   

“What is that plant doing above your head, Astarion?” 

“That is mistletoe, Lae'zel,” Wyll said patiently. “It’s tradition around Midwinter for anyone standing under it to get kissed.”

Lae'zel took three steps closer to Astarion, at a worrying speed.  “Kissing?” she asked, deadpan. 

Oh no.  Astarion stepped back, raising his hand in front of his mouth.  

She tore down the mistletoe and ground it under her heel.  “A distraction.  We have other concerns to focus on.”

He exhaled.  

This wasn't working at all.  Here he had thought he was setting the perfect trap and-

Oh wait.  A trap.  A trap.  It wouldn't be that hard to modify a trap to swing the mistletoe overhead when you tripped it.  He was excellent at setting traps.  Much better than climbing trees. 

After finding a few animals to drink, he sat down to make his kissing trap while everyone else was asleep. 

He set it up close to camp, but not in the main area where just anyone would trigger it.  You took a morning stroll to stretch your limbs each day and you would walk across it it when you did. 

Astarion sat just beyond the trap, pretending to read his book.  Very casual. 

He heard the trigger snap and was on his feet in an instant.  Still very casual, he told himself. 

His saunter froze upon seeing the distinct purple robes. 

“Ah, look.  Mistletoe.  You know, the berries of the mistletoe were once thought of as symbols of male fertility.”  Gale chuckled, inviting Astarion into the awkward subject.  “How they became associated with Midwinter is quite the mystery, though.  I suppose a fertility symbol becoming a romantic signifier isn't so unusual-”

Astarion couldn't take much more of this.  He had to get Gale out of the way before you walked by, which could be any minute.  He could already see Scratch in the distance and the mutt usually accompanied you. 

“It is even considered bad luck by some to ignore the tradition to kiss under the mistletoe.  Although-”

Without thinking more about it, Astarion surged forward and pressed his mouth to Gale's.  The man had surprisingly soft lips, contrasted by the prickle of his mustache.  Astarion jerked back, startled by his own actions. 

He was slightly mollified by the pink in Gale's cheeks and the way the man mumbled, “I suppose we will not be having bad luck, then,” without meeting his eyes. 

Scratch bounded towards them, breaking the tense moment.  Astarion looked, but couldn't see you anywhere.  The dog barely stopped for a pet before he was sniffing his way towards Astarion's abandoned book. 

“Hey, no! Dog! Dog, stop that!” he snapped, rushing after him.  Scratch’d eaten more than one book around camp already; he seemed to have an insatiable appetite for them.  

Astarion nearly dove onto the book, trying to get Scratch to let go of the cover without tearing it. 

Clutching his book to his chest and out of reach of Scratch, he returned to his trap.  “I'm not kissing you, don't get excited,” he muttered to the dog. 

It looked like he wasn't going to be kissing anyone– the mistletoe was gone.  Again. 

He dashed back to his tent to grab more.  He still had time.  He could get it all set up again before you walked by, he was certain.  He was fast. 

He rushed through laying the ropes and tying the knots, crouching on the ground.  He hadn't even seen you yet this morning, maybe you were still asleep. 

He straightened up to examine his work, taking a step back. 

The unnoticed coil of rope around his ankle tightened and yanked him forward and up before he could even yelp. 

So much for no bad luck. 

He swung around, just far enough off the ground to make getting untangled a challenge.  He scowled.  Maybe he should have slowed down.  Just a bit. The only saving grace was that you were still nowhere to be seen. 

As he rotated around, a pair of sandals came into view.

“Funny, I didn't picture you as one who likes to be tied up,” Shadowheart said with soft disdain. 

“Been picturing me tying you up?” he tried to sound as sexy as possible while hanging upside down.  ”I'll do it if you say please.  Setting you loose, however, that's another thing.” 

The sound she made would have hurt his feelings, if he didn't feel the same way. 

Shadowheart picked something off the ground and then held it over his head by one leaf pinched in her thumb and forefinger.

“This isn't what it looks like-” he started. 

She rolled her eyes.  “I'm sure.  Whatever it is, it looks ridiculous.”  She dropped the mistletoe on his face.  “Save this for someone who doesn't mind fangs.” 

“So, you're not going to help me down, then?” he called as she walked away, an irritated pout in his voice. 

It didn't really take him long to free himself.  At least that's what he repeated over and over as he stalked off into the woods to find something to eat.  Killing something would soothe his bleeding pride. 

Later that evening, as the party sat around the fire, he watched you take a bite of a burnt lump that Karlach called a cookie.  It looked dreadful.  But you smiled as you chewed slowly, telling her it tasted like cinnamon.  Always kind and thoughtful- even as you downed a huge swallow of wine. 

You were so stupidly nice, he couldn't stand it.  He wanted to be with you.  He wanted to taste that wine on your tongue.  

Forget the plan, it clearly wasn't going to work.  When had his plans ever worked with you?  He snuck away from the fire.  It took mere minutes to hang some mistletoe from your tent and return to the group as if he'd never been gone. 

He walked with you when everyone headed to their bedrolls, making sure no one else was close enough to steal a kiss from you. 

He was practically preening with satisfaction by the time you saw the mistletoe.  He was going to kiss you and you would hold him and-

“Oh no, I'm so sorry, I don't know how this got here.”  You yanked down the mistletoe, gripping it in your hand like he wouldn't notice it if you just held it tight enough.  “I've been taking this stuff down all over camp.” 

Astarion stared.  “You've been taking down my mistletoe?”

“Yes, I– what do you mean, your mistletoe?” 

“Why have you been taking it down!” 

You threw the crumpled plant to the side.  “I didn't want anyone to force you into something you didn't want to do.  It seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.” 

“I've kissed everyone in this camp trying to get you under this damn plant!”  His voice was rising too high. 

“I am so confused,” you said, putting your hands on your hips.  “What are you talking about?” 

“It's Midwinter. There's mistletoe. It's quite simple, really,” Astarion covered his embarrassment with condescension.  “Kissing, my dear. It's the traditional response.”

You looked at him until he wanted to squirm away or lash out to get you to stop.  He knew you were too damn perceptive. 

“I wanted to kiss you,” he sighed, resigned to having to tell the truth. 

“I thought you wanted to just be friends.”

“Well…” Astarion waved his hand vaguely, “Yes? I do?  But I also want to be… more than friends.  Together. With you.  But in a way that doesn't involve sex?”  He tilted his head, touching the curls on the back of his neck, feeling extremely vulnerable. “If that's something you… might consider…”

“Oh, Astarion.  I would love to love you in any way you want.”  You looked at him with a mix of fondness and impatience.  “Now kiss me, you idiot.”

He put his hands on your cheeks, drawing you close.  Your breath warmed his lips before he touched them to yours. Your arms wrapped around his waist as he'd imagined, mouth opening for him.  His tongue grazed over yours, soft and gentle, the heat of you seeping into him. 

It was everything he wanted.

-

Master Post

[elvisabutler]

Belle decorates Professor Presley’s classroom on Valentine’s day their first Valentine’s together and she’s a grinning mess through out class wearing his jacket and opening her legs for him to see what she is (or isn’t) wearing underneath only 😌 and just so much fluff and love and hot sex with big daddy elvis

my heart is thrilled by the still of your hand

summary: you decorate elvis's office for valentines and give him a bit of a present for the holiday. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader ( nicknamed belle ) word count: 2837 warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. implied praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone are of legal age ). religious talk. oral ( f receiving ). p in v sex ( unprotected ). referring to lil elvis as a pacifier. use of the derogatory name jezebel, but in a playful way. public nudity. mild indecent exposure. belle being brazen as hell. reference/threat of caning in a sexual way/sexual punishment way. author’s note: this is several months late but hi anon this was adorable and i loved writing it to the point where it flowed embarrassingly easily from my fingers. hopefully you like it and as always y'all i love comments and screaming and prompts like this. truly they keep a woman writing and going.

The thing about holidays is that you've never really liked a lot of them. October led to Halloween which led to parties where people would talk and talk about you as if you didn't exist nearby. You might be friendly with most people but there was always that subset of people who have to judge you for your actions. Judge you for every little small thing you've done since you became a student at the college. November led to Thanksgiving and the entire campus being empty while you stayed because as much as you love your parents- you don't want to go home to see them more than once a year and especially not for a holiday that has all your family around asking if you've found a nice boy at college yet. After the first time you answered you found a nice man and not a nice boy- well they felt the need to offer more opinions. No, Thanksgiving was never worth it. December brought Christmas and Hanukkah for your family and the family friends you might as well call family. That's the set of holidays you don't mind. That's the set of holidays where you can let loose and relax and answer questions about your love life because they're peppered in with questions on how school's coming along. How your studies are going and warnings that if you do meet a nice man to make sure he had your best interests at heart.

Honestly, this past December was your favorite with the secure knowledge that you had someone waiting for you back on campus. Your relationship might have been new and both you and Elvis might be walking around like baby deers when it came to doing anything to upset the balance of it but it's still yours. It's still a solid thing that has you smiling and has everyone insisting you've got to bring him soon, that it doesn't have to be a holiday- they just want to see the man who has their girl so happy. You spend New Years at home too but you make sure to call Elvis and hear him tell you softly that he misses you before you tell him that you do too and that you'll kiss him as soon as you see him.

Everything is fine until you realize that it's February and that means it's Valentine's Day. You can't decorate the lecture hall, though you want to but you can at least decorate the podium and his office. You can decorate those things and give him a surprise because you don't have any classes that day. You're free to do whatever it is your heart desires and if that's teasing the man you're sure is the love of your life and the man you want to spend the rest of your life with- well- that's your business isn't it.

It had occurred to you that this was a risky idea but there's something delightful in finding that Elvis has a pink jacket you've never seen him wear but covers you enough that if you want you can barely wear anything with it. Truly you just want to see his reaction to you practically naked underneath a jacket of his while in class. You choose a class that has less people in it, one of the upper level classes. You think perhaps you should sit in the front but you know that at the top of the room he could very easily see your exposed body while no one else would. So you choose a spot right in front of his podium on that very top row and wait until the middle of his lecture to do a single thing. His eyes haven't left you from the moment he walked in, placing a kiss on your cheek with a raised eyebrow that you just answer with a smile. His reaction the moment you open his jacket just enough to see what's underneath has you giggling softly.

You had chosen to where a skimpy set of underwear- one you know shows how wet you already are and shows just how much you want Elvis. You know he can see the faintest hint of your pussy and you know from the way his eyes zero in on it that in the back of his mind he's picturing his face being buried between your legs as you explain St. Valentine's to him. Or perhaps your end goal, perhaps that's what you want and you're just deciding that he wants it just as much. Your chest is more exposed, no bra in sight and the cold air of the room has your nipples pebbling, turning into targets that he wants to zero in on to suck and nip and turn puffy with overuse.

"I- I-" he stutters out, tripping over his sentence as he tries to wrench his eyes away from your exposed body before whispering to himself, "Christ almighty woman."

"Professor Presley?" You and him both hear the voice of a male student trying to get Elvis to focus and get back on track. "Are you alright? You look a little flushed."

A giggle threatens to escape you as you watch him swallow, trying to figure out the best way to answer that question without exposing your actions. You shut the jacket once more and Elvis's eyes narrow briefly before turning to the student. "I'm just fine. Ya know how it is when the weather's like this- half the damn campus is sick wit' somethin'. Nah, I'm- Feelin' fine, my boy. Now as I was sayin'."

And so it goes for the next hour with you teasing him over and over watching his hands grip the heart shaped decorations on his podium and watching as his jaw tightens and he practically growls when he sees a few students try and turn around to see just what he's looking at. Before class ends you slip out the back door and make your way to his office. You hear his booming voice bellowing about class being dismissed and can't help the way you laugh as you pull the jacket tighter around you. The extra key Elvis had given you to the office allows you to sneak inside and sit down in his chair at his desk. You expect him to be there in a few minutes but it takes closer to fifteen before you hear the door open and hear his rumbling murmur.

"Jezebel," he murmurs, practically stalking across the room till he stops at the desk, his cane somehow remaining far more quiet than it normally is. "Teasin' me like that. Oughta cane ya for that, darlin'. Give ya a lil punishment for actin' that way. Thought ya were gonna be all sweet wit' the decorations."

You lean back in the chair a little bit, not because you're scared but you're curious to see if he'll lean over you, if he'll remind you of one of the many reasons you fell for him. Remind you of how you are strong and can fight and put up with the best of them, but he- he is something else entirely. He is a bear of a man with strength curled underneath all that fat and bulk. Your body inadvertently shudders as he does lean over you his hands resting on the arms of the chair. Your words are quiet but only because you're trying to be coy. "I am sweet with them, Professor Presley. I wanted to make sure your office looked sweet so you could eat something sweet in here."

His eyes roam down to the sliver of skin exposed by his jacket and he takes his hand, opening it up to reveal what he'd like to call his Valentine's present. You in his pink jacket, inviting him in between your legs like a succubus craving her neck meal. Inviting him in like you're his salvation and damnation all at once. A breath leaves him shakily as he moves to grab your hand in an effort to get you out of the chair. "Desk, Belle. On my desk. Let me see the feast you've got for me. See how sweet my treat really is."

The way you practically scramble to get onto the desk is a little embarrassing if you're honest with yourself but when it comes to Elvis sometimes you do things you otherwise wouldn't. You're not subservient to anyone and yet sometimes with him you truly are. You keep the jacket on and allow it to settle on your shoulders as you lay down on the desk, exposing your breasts and torso and neck for him. A part of you knows you shouldn't touch yourself but seeing Elvis's pure lust written all over his face has your hand drifting down between your legs, fingers slipping between your folds easily. There's a moment where you're too distracted to notice Elvis watching you, too distracted to notice how his breathing shifts and how his cock is rising to the occasion the more he watches you until he grabs at your wrist and pulls it out. "Puttin' on a show. Ain't ya just my angel sent from above to be a lil devil," he moves your hand up to his mouth and licks at your fingers, causing your toes to curl just a little, "sweeter than the best pie I've ever had. Practically candy all on its own."

What happens next isn't what you expect, necessarily but you don't know why you didn't. Elvis drops down to his knees and you hear the slight crack in them before his hands- his always burning hands grab at your underwear, practically yanking them off as he pulls you to the edge of the desk. He licks his lips and inches his face toward your waiting cunt before taking a moment to just inhale the scent and to nuzzle at your folds with his lips and nose and chin, coating them in your already copious amount of fluids. A growl leaves him that you feel in the pit of your soul before he practically dives in, his tongue laving at your core, dancing around your clit in ways he knows drive to madness. Your hands move to his hair, sliding through and gripping with such ferocity Elvis growls once again against you. His intensity reminds you of an animal- a predator savoring their meal, devouring what's rightfully his. Your fingers pull and twist in his black hair, guiding him where you need him the most at any given second. You move him away from your clit, trying to make this last when you feel your body start to tighten, feel your legs start to tremble and tighten around his back, marveling in the strength of it as he continues his onslaught, giving your clit a little nip for trying to guide him away from it.

"Elvis-" you moan, trying to have your brain remember what it's like to say words, trying to remember what it's like to breathe, to think, to have a thought in your head that doesn't revolve around how his tongue and lips feel against your clit and your folds. "Need- Gonna-"

All he does is squeeze your hips, his rings digging into your skin as he sucks your clit one last time bringing you over the edge with a scream you can't hold back. For a brief moment you swear you see stars as you try and catch your breath. When Elvis pulls away from between your legs, leaning on his haunches you see how completely covered in your come he is and a shudder runs through you as you shakily sit up and try to grab onto him to pull him up. You want to kiss him and taste yourself. You want to have his body, his comforting warm weight against you. You want to feel the scratch of the hair on his belly against your soft skin. He catches what you're trying to do and helps as best as he can before finally getting into a standing position and pushing you farther up onto the desk where you can lay down. Your lips start to kiss at his neck, licking some of the sweat off of his skin as your hands claw and rip a button on his shirt trying to get it open. He chuckles, rutting against the desk a little as he helps you with it, shucking off his shirt as you decide to shift your focus to his belt instead. That you can do, that you can do so you can reach his cock. It only takes a minute before you pulling him out of his underwear and moving to try and suck it before he pushes you back against the desk.

"You ain't gettin' your pacifier today, Belle. Teasin' me like that deserves a punishment and I know ya love that thing too much. Nah, gonna fuck ya and maybe if ya real good for the rest of the day, maybe when we get home ya can have it. But right now? Oh, Belle, darlin', no suckin' on your lil' pacifier." His voice is practically a croon before he leans against you, the scratch of the hair on his stomach causing you to cry out softly and whine.

"Elvis- Why-" The words and the whine die on your lips as cock slides into you, filling you up as you thump your head against the desk lightly. You'd think you'd have gotten used to it. You'd think you would have gotten used to the stretch and the subtle burn of his foreskin catching inside of you but even now it's different. It slides through your pussy with ease and yet you clench around it as you watch Elvis's face contort and hear his grunts as his fingers tighten around your hips once more.

"Fuck- Always like a damn vice grip 'round me. Always tight 'round me." A hand moves to grab at your chest, playing with your nipple as you keen at the sensation. "Too much? Ya want me to stop touchin' 'em? Leave 'em be?"

"No!" You cry out, your hips grinding against his, chasing after his cock as he pulls out and pushes back in. You try and wrap your legs around him before he shakes his head.

"Ya made yourself a pretty lil present for me. Let me enjoy it and show ya how much I love ya and it." His words are gruff, practically snarled out as he moves faster and faster, his hips acting like he's 20 something instead of the 40 something he is.

It's too much, you think. It's too much to feel how he stretches you as he fucks you. It's too much how his hand squeezes your breasts and your nipples. It's too much how his mouth slots against yours and how both your lips are kiss bitten and how your teeth keep sinking into his lip in between his nips to yours. It's too much how you feel his hips start to stutter a little like he's going to come. It's too much how you feel your body shudder and feel your hands clawing at his back, slippery against his sweat. It's too much how your skin slides against his and how your body relishes in the feel of his chest hair and the hair on his stomach. It's too much how his whole body weight has you pinned against the desk as if you're minuscule to him. It's- It's too much.

"Please." You mutter against his lips and you feel him pull away before the hand that had been playing with your chest finally slides down between your legs and rubs your clit just so that has your hips trying to lift up only to be stopped by his sheer bulk against it. You come with a whimper of his name and heaving breaths as you feel his come fill you with a certain warmth that settles deep in your bones.

Elvis collapses on top of you as he tries to catch his breath and you take the time to play with his chest, play with his chest hair with a small smile. When you've finally come down to Earth you manage to speak, whispering softly against his skin with a kiss. "Happy Valentines."

You watch as a smile crosses his face as he looks at you with such an intense love you can't help but bite your lip. "Ya know how to give presents for it." A beat. "Ya also damn lucky ya ain't in my class. Would've had ya tell me all about St. Valentine's while 'tween ya legs."

A smirk crosses your face before you kiss up his neck, stopping once you've reached his lips. "Maybe that's how I can earn my pacifier back tonight?"

Elvis's eyes become just a little bit lidded as his hand that still hasn't left your hip tightens its grip. "I think ya might have a deal, Belle."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis if you don’t want to be tagged for this series, tell me, i just copied from one of my other elvis fics. also if i missed you in this tagging and your name doesn’t look like everyone else’s welcome to the horror of being one of those people who tumblr won’t let me tag.

[secretswiftymarvelfan]

The Demigod On Earth - Steve Rogers x Reader (Turkey Time!)

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving! I am very very thankful for all of you!

Summary: It's the time for giving thanks and goodwill and after meeting a teen in central park you decide to do some good.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Fluff! Minor Angst!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Turkey Time!

You watched with a soft smile as you watched JJ kick his soccer ball around Central Park. Steve was working today so you and JJ were having a day out together. You had already visited Central Park Zoo and now were just having a kick about before heading home.

“Are you sure we don’t need a larger Turkey?” Steve asks over the phone, he was planning on getting the last of the Thanksgiving shopping on his way home.

“Yes I’m sure, it’s just the three of us this year,” you tell him as you watch JJ.

“Thor’s not coming?”

“No he’s still on his health kick so he doesn’t want to give into temptation, so it’s just you, me and JJ as Bucky is going to Sam’s” you confirm “And JJ’s not gonna eat much and I don’t want to be eating leftovers for the next month”

Steve let out another long sigh “But… we do eat more than the average person” he points out.

“Alright Joey Tribbiani, if you think you can eat a larger turkey, you get a larger turkey but I won’t be helping” you state.

Steve lets out a small chuckle “alright fine, smaller turkey it is, but we’re still having pie right?”

“Yes I’m still gonna make a pie” you chuckle, looking back over at JJ you watch him just as he kicks the soccer ball so far that he hits a teen walking through the park “Sorry Steve I gotta go, text me if you have any more questions,” you say hanging up the phone.

You quickly jog over to JJ and the teen were now talking “hey i’m sorry, he’s got a pretty strong kick” you apologise to the teen, running your hand through JJ’s hair.

“No, no it's okay” the teen says with an awkward smile “You could go pro with a kick like that” he continues smiling down at JJ.

“Wanna play with me?” JJ asks hopefully.

“Oh, I’m sure that um-” you say realising you didn’t know the teen’s name.

“Peter, Peter Parker” the teen coughs shuffling from foot to foot.

“I’m sure Peter has to get on a be somewhere JJ” you continue.

“Oh,” JJ says with a disappointed pout.

“Hey no it’s okay, I’m sure I can spare a few minutes” Peter smiles.

“Are you sure, it’s okay if you have to be somewhere” you reassure him.

“I don’t” Peter says with a smile that almost looks sad.

You study him for a moment before nodding “Okay yeah sure, sounds good, I’m just gonna call my husband back… he’s a bit lost with the Thanksgiving shopping” you say making Peter chuckle.

“Sure, don’t worry I got him Mrs Rogers,” Peter says making you startle slightly since you hadn’t introduced yourself “Sorry, I- I uh just recognised you from the news, i’m not some criminal or anything just… just a kid from queens” peter quickly rambles.

The sudden spike of nervous energy leaves your body, you weren’t sure why but you felt like you could completely trust this kid like you’d known him for years “Okay, thank you” you smile softly.

For the next fifteen minutes you watched as JJ and Peter kicked the ball around together, it was like they were old friends or even family the way they seemed so familiar with each other. You wondered what it was that caused adults to lose that innocence.

Far sooner than JJ wanted it was time to head home “Thanks for sticking around and playing with JJ” you smile thanking Peter.

“It’s nothing enjoy your holidays” Peter smiles stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“You too, got much planned?” you ask him.

“Oh uh no, it’s just me, my aunt died a couple of weeks back” Peter explains, his face turning sullen as he quickly sniffles.

“Oh I’m so sorry” you sigh sympathetically.

“I- I’m okay” Peter says but you could tell he was lying “I’ll uh- let you get on, thank you… for today” he says taking a couple steps back before turning.

You watch as he goes, feeling a sudden feeling in your gut that it was just wrong to let his kid just go “Hey Peter” you call out making him stop “It’s just gonna be us this Thanksgiving and I already know Steve it gonna buy more food than we need so um if you’re looking for somewhere to go… you can have thanksgiving with us?” you suggest.

Peter looks back at you completely shocked “But… but you don’t know me” he points out.

“I know… but I have a pretty accurate gut feeling and I have a really good feeling about you and I really don’t like the idea of you being alone on Thanksgiving” you explain, you could see Peter hesitating so you quickly scribble out your address on a piece of scrap paper “just consider it okay,” you say passing him the note.

“I uh will thank you,” Peter says with a hesitant smile.

“Cool, well maybe I’ll see you later this week” you smile “C’mon JJ let's head home”

“Bye Peter!” JJ calls out waving his hand wildly.

“Bye JJ” Peter smiles waving back.

Even though it was just the three of you Thanksgiving was still pretty hectic. Thankfully JJ was pretty distracted playing with Scout and since Steve’s cooking abilities had improved it wasn’t just you in the kitchen.

Soon enough it got to a point where everything was sorted and you were just waiting for everything to finish cooking, allowing you and Steve to collapse onto the couch. You let out a heavy sigh as you checked the clock trying not to feel disappointed that Peter hadn’t shown up.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, reaching out to take your hand “There’s still time” he reassures you.

You look over to give him a gentle smile, when you told Steve that you’d invited a someone who was basically a stranger to Thanksgiving he wasn’t impressed. The two of you argued about it for most of the evening, you understood Steve’s concerns but you just couldn’t explain the reason why you couldn’t just let this kid be alone.

“I know… I just hate the idea of him being alone so soon after losing his only family” you sigh “Nobody should be alone on Thanksgiving”

Steve hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side so he could kiss the side of your head “More turkey for me” he mutters.

“Steve” you snort shaking your head at him, slapping his chest.

“I know, I know I’m sorry” He chuckles kissing your temple once more.

You let out another long sigh “We should probably finish setting the table” you say standing back up from the couch.

“Sure, we’ll set it for four… just in case” Steve says as he follows earning a warm smile from you.

“Thank you” you whisper leaning up to press a kiss to his lips.

You were about to step away when you heard someone knock on the door, a wide smile breaks out on your face before rushing to the door. Steve chuckled as he watched you go, remaining by the door to the living room while you continued to the door.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself before you open the door, smiling when you saw it was Peter holding a small bouquet of fall-coloured flowers “Hey, I knew I should bring something but I’m not great at cooking or old enough to buy alcohol so” Peter rambles as he holds up the flowers.

“They’re great thank you Peter” you smile as you let him inside “I’m glad you decided to come”

“I- I’m sorry I’m late… I just… I-” Peter stutters.

“Peter it’s okay, I understand, you’re just in time” you smile softly as you lead him through the house “This is Steve” you say introducing Peter to Steve.

“It’s an honour to meet you sir” Peter says holding out his hand towards Steve.

“Call me Steve” Steve smiles as he shakes Peter’s hand.

“Steve” Peter repeats with a nervous chuckle as the three of you continue walking into the kitchen “Is there anything you could do to help?”

“Uh, why don’t you help Steve set the table? Those flowers would be lovely in the centre” you suggest with a smile.

“Yeah sure no problem” Peter smiles before following Steve into the dining room.

Steve gives you a look to say he knew exactly what you were doing and you just wanted them a chance to get to know each other but that wasn’t going to stop you.

Your plan seemed to work though as a few minutes later the two of them returned to the kitchen laughing and talking like they were old friends “Hey Pete do you want a drink?” Steve asks walking to the fridge and pulling out two beer bottles.

“Oh um I’m only 17,” Peter says shaking his head.

“That’s alright, I won’t tell” Steve winks as he pops the tops and passes Peter a bottle “You’ll be off to college soon and we all know what college kids get up to”

“Oh I won’t be going to college,” Peter says as he takes a small sip of his beer.

“Really? You seem like a smart kid” you say your brows furrowing in concern.

“Thanks,” Peter says with a small smile “but with everything that happened, I ended up having to drop out of high school but I’m working to get my GED” he explains “Plus there are a few things keeping me in New York”

“Okay… well if you ever consider university, I’m a professor at NYU, I might be able to help” you offer.

“Thank you… I’ll let you know” Peter smiles.

“Peter!” JJ shouts as he enters the kitchen, scout in tow “You came!” he smiles running over to greet Peter with a hug.

“Yeah sorry I’m late pal, why don’t you show me how much better your soccer is” Peter suggests bending down to be at eye level with JJ.

“Yes! C’mon!” JJ beams grabbing Peter's hand and dragging him outside.

You smile as you watch them go before turning back to Steve “alright you can say it” he sighs knowingly.

“I told you so” You grin victoriously as you walk over and wrap your arms around his waist.

“He’s a good kid” Steve agrees as he presses a kiss to the top of your head “You did good inviting him”

“It’s what Thanksgiving is about right?” you smile.

“Exactly” Steve smiles cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply “Maybe he can babysit so we can have some time alone” he smirks.

“Give Bucky a break” you smirk “Sounds like a good plan”

Sharing is caring so please reblog if you enjoyed this and maybe even leave a comment to make my day!

I have no schedule, please don’t ask when I will be updating!

Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a tag list so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary​ and turn on post notifications for updates!

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Fic Stats and Facts for the End of the Year

In January I thought It would be fun to keep track of the amount of words I posted on fics throughout the year. I posted a total of 26,676 words in 2024

Continuing the fun I think it would be nice to reshare some fics I posted this year and some thoughts I had on them.

My Favorite Actor is… This was my first fic of the year. It was posted on January 6th. It's one of the fics I posted during the chaos of getting a new puppy. It was written mostly on my phone during the holidays. Am I surprised the first fic of the year was an Ayato fic? No, I did a blog refresh around him. I think of the fics I've posted for Ayato, this is my favorite.

Summer Afternoons I had this fic scheduled to post while I was on a trip in Texas. Fun fact, my cousin clocked me as an AO3 user. I was playing around with formatting and I tried sticking with this format throughout the year. I think I may do a format overhaul at some point. I think my fics started doing worse with the new changes. This means there's a chance you haven't read this short and cute Thoma fic!

PLASTIC OFF THE SOFA and CUFF IT Can you tell I like Beyoncé? It's not like I'm quiet about it. I love how silly timing will forever tie Wriothesley and the Renaissance album together. I guess it was the idle animation trying to tell me he enjoys a good disco bop as well. Do you think he could rock roller skates by any chance, asking for a friend (it's me, I am the friend. roller skating date with Wriothesley when?)

What a Treat! One of the fics I posted during October when I get too many ideas. It was so nice to post for Kaveh since the first fic I started for him ended up being too much like one of the quest lines for his hangout. I can't believe I predicted the hangout. I should have posted it before his release.

“What part of 'I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” My first fic for Dr. Ratio. Well, it would have been but it was such a challenge to write him!! I rewrote this fic like three times. So expect you to read it three times. It's only fair. I do plan on writing more for him next year. I would also like to write more Honkai Star Rail characters as well.

After the Choir Sings and To Prepare a Reunion These are the last fics I'm posting this year. I'm sick so there is no way I can rush one last fic. The notes are lower due to being so recent so if you could go run them up a bit that would be nice. The first fic is for Neuvillette and is also the first time I ever wrote for him. I'm still not sure I got him right. The second fic is an SMAU for Ayato which was a fun break from the Ayato fic I'm been working on for like half the year now.

Speaking of the long Ayato fic I think it has been a minute since I have given it a sneak peek which I feel is fair. But before I do, some general info on the fic. The main trope is A Marriage of Convince which has also become the placeholder name now. It is one of the things that inspired my blog refresh. I would like to post the first chapter on March 26th since it is his birthday and then post every two weeks. Hopefully, I can get far enough to where this is possible. It's already the longest fic I've ever written which is fun. I do hope you enjoy this sneak peek from Chapter 1!

Ayato sighed at the interaction. “Have you even explained why you wish for her to be wed so fast?”

“I do not have to explain my family matters to you of all people. You have made this so much harder by having her wear your mother’s jewelry. You should take it and leave us be.” Y/N’s grandpa spoke.

“I see no need to. Your family matters involve trying to marry off a woman through blackmail. How would it sound for you if it got out that you have been trying to marry off a woman who much of Inazuma now assumes I am in a relationship with?”

“How does it sound for that same woman to get charged for assault? It’s better to stay out of this if you would prefer your own name to retain the respect it has.”

Ayato sighed rubbing the temples of his forehead. He hoped it would not have to come to this. “Since you won’t explain your reasoning and so desperately want her to be engaged at this very moment, I’ll marry her if it stops this headache of an issue.”

Y/N jolted away from his touch in shock. “You can’t. Even you agreed that an arranged marriage for yourself would be something you never do. What about your own love life?”

“Listen to the girl. Even she knows it would be a disgrace for you to be engaged to her.” Her grandpa argued twisting her words moments after being spoken.

“I am too busy dealing with the affairs of Inazuma for a love life. I get proposals once a week and they are a waste of my time. You are wasting your granddaughter’s time. If getting married can free her to do as she pleases then I find no issue with ‘disgracing’ my name. If anything it would make my life easier having a translator in my home as Inazuma continues to reconnect with the world.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Hellfire's Mama fox Chap. 8; Roxxi's secret is told

*Author's note*

86' was Eddie Munson's year and 2024 is Joseph Quinn's year from getting his casting as Johnny storm in the upcoming Fantastic 4 movie, to a Quite Place day one and Gladiator 2 coming later this year. So happy for our beloved brit :) And in honor of his rising success, I'd like to say that this story is back in business with two chapters ready to be read. Hope you enjoy this update and thanks for being patient for those that read this story. Hopefully I'll be done with the events of s.4 by the time the final season comes out that way I can plan accordingly how I want this story to go. But until that day comes, enjoy these next two chapters.

NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist:

@remussl0vers

@assassinsasha23

@sweetpeapod

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@psychosupernatural

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

_______________________________________________________

Halloween came and went followed by the Thanksgiving holiday break.  And thanks to a special bonus that Wayne was given, the Munsons were able to afford a fairly good sized turkey this year after not having it since our sophomore year.

And I knew Eddie was excited cause with Thanksgiving now passed, Christmas was around the corner and that meant a longer break from Hawkin’s high.  And it was also the start of my next upcoming holiday oneshot.  Now typically I try to only do one big holiday oneshot either for Halloween or Christmas but ever since being away and getting my head cleared, I was able to pull out two epic oneshot campaigns for this year’s Hellfire club.

But I also knew what was coming up for Hawkin’s high.  Like I had told Lauren all the way at the start of the year, it was also the time of the Hawkins gymnastics tryouts.  After the final bell rang, I headed down towards the gym where I saw the assistant coach setting up the mats for the tryouts.

I hid behind my copy of ‘To kill a Mockingbird’ novel for English class when I saw a group of girls heading towards the gym with their bags and saw them walk inside.  More and more girls, including Lauren walked passed me until the final dismissal bell rang and I watched them all tryout.

Watching the girls practice their audition routine either on the balance beam or the monkey bars, brought back so many memories.  Like I said even though I hated the sexism aspect of the sport, the pressure my parents put on me as well as the entire community, there’s nothing that made me feel freer than being going out into that ring and performing my dance.  Gymnastics is the sport that makes Man feel what it’s like to fly.

I kept watching the entire audition from behind the gym door and was amazed at some of the talent from some of the girls.  Had I still been Captain, I’d be putting most of them on the team because they truly showed promise in taking the school to State Champion.

When auditions ended 2 hours later, I quickly hid behind my book once again and watched as the girls came out talking about either how well or bad they did before the coach and the current Captain Abigail Breslin.  Once everyone had left, I looked around before entering inside the gym.

The smell of the chalk still lingered in the air.  I walked to the center of gym and set my bag down before doing a couple of stretches.  Doing some split stretches, jumping jacks, and various leg stretches.  My muscles maybe tense from lack of use but I knew that muscle memory was still in there.

Once I was warmed up, I did a few cartwheels across the gym floor before eyeing the spring board just yards away from me standing before a beam.  I charged in hot before hoping onto the springboard and successfully flipped over the mat nailing a perfect handspring.

Raising my hands up in the air to stick the pose I could almost hear the cheers of the crowd as I now gracefully ‘skated’ across the mat.  I then prepared for my next move.  I took a few steps before doing two aerials before ending it with a handstand.

My arms shook as I tried to keep balance and I nearly felt myself fall over but I kept a firm grip by keeping my palms as flat as possible and my back as straight as I could.  Ever so slowly I lowered my right leg in front of me forming an L shape with my legs.

The lack of me using this much flexibility (at least not to the degree I use with Eddie) really was putting a strain in my body but I fought through the pain as I held the pose before flipping back up right.  As I kept hearing the applause, I then quickly raised and grabbed my left ankle before raising it all the way behind my head and I heard the applause grow louder.  I smiled before setting my leg down and held my arms outward in a T pose ending my warm up routine.

I could almost hear the crowd cheering my name and feel the spotlight shining down on me.

“Roxxi?” I snapped out of my daydream state and turned to see Dustin, Mike and Lucas all looking at me shocked and in awe.

“Oh…” I brushed my hair out of my face with my fingers as I said, “I didn’t expect to see you boys here so late.”

“We had to finish up a lab for Mr. Pollock’s class when Mike realized he had also left his math book here.” Dustin said.

“I see.” I cleared my throat.

“Roxxi. Are you…..were you really doing all those flips and leg raises?” Mike asked flabbergasted, his mouth refusing to close.  If Eddie were here, he’d have smacked Mike silly for gawking at me the way he was.

“How much of that did you boys see?” I asked.

“We heard the sound of a springboard and the slamming of feet so—right about since then.” Said Lucas.  Oh so they saw pretty much the whole routine.  “We didn’t mean to spy Roxxi. But were you trying to secretly audition for the gymnastics team but chickened out?”

“Lucas!” hissed Dustin as he smacked him in the ribs.

“What?”

“It’s fine Dustin.” I assured him.  I let out a deep sigh, “Guess there’s a lot I still need to tell you boys. Follow me.” I grabbed my bookbag and left the gym with the boys trailing behind me.

I lead them down to the basement to where I knew the school kept archives of all the past Seasonal trophies for every sport and school activity known to Hawkin’s High.  I took out my bobby pin and picked at the lock.

“Since when did you learn to pick locks?” asked Mike.

“When your boyfriend is Eddie Munson, you learn a thing or two. Mostly from when he forgets to grab the keys to the trailer.” After a few turns, I got the door unlocked and flipped on the light bulb to reveal all the stored boxes for the certificates and old shelf casings for the big trophies.

“What exactly are we doing down here Roxxi?” asked Lucas.

“Head over to the third case over there and look at the middle shelf.” I told them.  They walked past the shelves of trophies that came from the 70’s school year before finally reaching the 1980’s trophy shelf.

I knew then and there along with the debate team’s trophies and the swim teams, they’d also find the gymnastics trophies as well as all the newspaper articles in how I founded the entire gymnastics team and help them win their first ever State championship.

“You were a gymnast?!” the three freshmen exclaimed.

“Yep. Bred into it since I was two years old.”

“And you were the captain of gymnastics team?” asked Lucas.

“Not just captain. I was the founder of it. You see there never was a gymnastics team in the history of this school. So in order to keep up with my ‘gymnast physic’ as my parents forced upon me, I was forced to join the cheerleading team during my years at the middle school. But I couldn’t stand being a cheerleader. All the fake preppy smiles and corny cheers. Ugh it drove me nuts.” I shuddered.  “So when I got into high school, I had somehow managed to convince Principal Higgins to fund and start the Hawkins High gymnastics team.”

“Wait, I remember. Yeah a long time ago you actually made the front page news on your first win for the school. You were that (Y/n) Hemingway.” Dustin exclaimed.

“I was. Once.” I said solemnly.  “My skills on the ring were the envy and admiration of all. The people of Hawkins called me the ‘Queen of the Skies’. Oh you boys should’ve seen me at the peak of my prime. I once kicked a three time gold medalist right down to a bronze.”

“So wait, if you were some hotshot athlete, what made you give it up? Clearly you still love it judging from what we saw back there. Why’d you quit?” asked Mike.  I fiddled with my bracelet that actually had a date on it, a date that I wish to forget but will and shall never, ever forget.  And neither would Eddie.

“You remember how I’ve said to never try and break the bonds you three share? That if they’re gone, no one will be there for you.” They nodded.  “Well….I got sick my first senior year. Very, very sick. And even though people could see me deteriorating both physically and mentally, all they kept asking me was when would I get back out onto the ring. Then when I finally got the strength to tell them all I’d never go back out there…..they turned on me. Save for one.”

Their looks of sympathy made my stomach churn uncomfortably.  This is why I don’t like talking about my past because of sympathetic looks like these boys were giving me.  I took a sharp breath of air before coming towards them.

“Now, we best be off. Wouldn’t want the janitors busting us for being down here. Since this is technically breaking and entering. Guess Eddie rubs off on me in both good and bad ways. But I don’t want you boys following too much into our leagues, understand?”

“Yeah, sure Roxxi.” They chorused out.

“Good, now I think the Home Ec. dept. still has those chocolate chip cookies from the cookie cart earlier this afternoon. Let’s go indulge in a few of them.” That soon got their minds off my story as they started talking about the joys that is the Cookie cart (a thing that isn’t known in the Middle School).

Later that night, I was in Eddie’s bed finishing up the last few questions from our English assignment when I felt Eddie slip behind me and press his chest to my back.  I felt him kiss my cheek as he asked me.

“How’s the homework coming along babe?”

“Alright. English already being my top subject this is a cake walk. How’s yours coming, and don’t say you’re just gonna copy my answers in the morning.” He gasped as he covered his mouth dramatically.

“Why my beloved Roxxi I would never…..” I gave him the look and raised my brow at him.  “Okay yeah I would have BUT that’s all in the past. Though I will need help with a few questions come morning.” He soon said sheepishly.  I shook my head at him before kissing his cheek.

“And such honesty rewards you with my aid after breakfast.”

“This is why I love you.” He kissed the corner of my lips before starting to get ready for bed.  Removing his jeans and taking off his shirt.  I packed my stuff back into my backpack and said.

“I told them Eddie.” He hummed as he was halfway of taking off his shirt.  “Mike, Lucas and Dustin. They—caught me in the gym after the gymnastics tryouts. And I showed them the trophy room down in the archives.” He went still as he looked at me with those chocolate brown eyes of his.

“Did….you tell them about—”

“You know I can’t ever get that far as to talk about that. But….they know about who I was. (Y/n) Hemingway, future Olympic gymnast.” Eddie came back over to me and pressed his forehead to mine.

“You sure you don’t regret staying with me?”

“Eddie,” I cupped his face in my hands.  “You were the only one who stayed at my side after…..the incident. All I was to everyone else in Hawkins was either the Satanic whore or the Washup gymnast. You were the only one who still saw me as me. Maybe even more.”

“I’ve always seen you as more Roxx.” He said as he stroked my cheek.  “You’ve always been my girl, my One. And I’m afraid you’re stuck with me till the end.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way Eddie-bear.” He smiled before cupping under my jaw and bringing me into a soft, loving kiss.  I wrapped my arms around his neck as our kiss deepened and I felt myself lay on top of his chest while he rested against the bed.  After we separated, I placed my head over his heart as I felt his fingers stroke along my back while his hand pet down my hair.

“And just so you know, even though it’s hard for me to talk about it too. I just want you to know that……if you ever do wish to talk about it. You know I’ll be there to listen, right?”

“Thank you Eddie.” I softly hummed as I felt him kiss my temple before I drifted off to sleep to the sound of his heartbeat and his loving touch.

[theshotsheardacrossworlds]

FFXIV Write: Shade

In which Pip Varlineau (Agi and Estinien's fourth child) has a date and makes a move. Sort of. SFW.

Pip Varlineau was usually proud of himself (Laure calls it being smug but he’s a stick in the mud) but today he was more so than usual. He made every preparation for his date with Ella Ballard, a Gridanian adventurer he met while she was in Kugane on holiday. After the start of what Mummy is calling “a frankly adorable romance” they kept in touch (we write daily) and met several times in the last two moons.

She’s a pretty little thing. A dear. A darling.

And she could snap me in half because she’s a warrior!

The actor and musician picked her up at her parents’ home (she stays here when she isn’t traveling) wearing an outfit he scrutinized over.

Of course, I sought out Mummy’s advice. She insists she’s not terribly fashionable, but I disagree!

Picnic basket on one arm and Ella on the other, Pip guided them to where they would picnic---under the shade of a large tree in the Central Shroud. He laid out the blanket and food. Meat, cheese, delectable crackers, some wine, and some pastries. I may have spent more than I originally budgeted.

But she’s happy, and that makes me happy.

Oh fuck, I sound like Bapa.

“You know, I used to sit under this tree quite a lot as a girl.” Ella blushed so prettily as she piled meat and cheese on a cracker. “Dreaming of adventure, seeing the world…” Her bright green eyes sparkled like emeralds. “You said you’re from Radz-at-Han, right? I haven’t been there yet. What’s it like?”

Without thinking, he cooed, “Not nearly as lovely as you, dear.”

Her cheeks turned a darker shade of red as she giggled. “Oh hush you!” She then gave him a playful shove, and he pretended to topple over, making her laugh more. Yes! There’s a reason I’m the most charming of my brothers. “Come on, Pip!”

He quickly sat up and watched her pop her meat-and-cheese topped cracker in her pretty mouth. If this goes well, maybe I’ll get a kiss or two? A smooch perhaps? “Ella, Radz-at-Han is a gem. A sparkling, glittering gem with a million facets, all of which are equally fascinating and delicious.” When Pip paused, he noticed her gaze fixed on him, those emerald eyes only on me. Sisters take me, she’s so beautiful. “It’s home. My parents and a sister still live there, and I’d like to return someday…but for now, Kugane is where I’ll be.”

She hummed thoughtfully, sipping her wine. “I haven’t traveled beyond Kugane, but it could serve as a base of sorts if I ever—” Ella smiled hopefully, her cheeks still so damned red. I simply must kiss her.

“Yes. Yes, and I wouldn’t mind if you stayed with me. I wouldn’t mind at all.” Pip grinned bashfully, his own cheeks burning. “You see, I…I’d quite—”

Ella leaned towards him, her lips gently touching his.

“Yes…” Ella’s calloused fingers caressed his cheek as she too grinned. “As long as you don’t mind me coming back every day very stinky and dirty.”

Pip’s mind wandered to all the lonely nights he experienced (I might call it “endured”) since she returned to Eorzea from Kugane. How he would reread her letters, imagining it was her speaking to him.

I’m smitten.

I’m positively enchanted by Ella’s beauty and strength and kind heart and nice ass.

He chuckled, tossing his empty glass onto the blanket. He then wrapped his arms around her thick waist and hugged her. “Darling, I don’t mind. Not one little bit.”

[pbandjesse]

I had a really nice day. It was fun working from home. It was also kind of hard because I needed feedback and had questions I will have to wait on. But I got a lot accomplished!

I didn't stay home the whole time though. I would go out at one point. I had a very productive day.

I slept alright last night. James had fallen asleep on the couch for a while and I found it hard to fall asleep knowing they were out there. I would go out and kiss them on the head and they said they were sorry and came back to bed. They didn't do anything to be sorry about, but I told them it was okay anyway.

They were already gone to work when I woke up at 9. I am glad I got to sleep in. This whole week I'm going to get to sleep a little longer and that's just so lovely.

I felt good when I woke up. I stripped the bed and tidied up a bit. And went to get washed up.

I had decided I would listen to an audio book today. Since that would be long and I wouldn't have to change it basically all day. I chose one called "The fungus" from 1990. And it was great. I really liked it. It was an apocalypse story about a mushroom/spores that take over London. It was narrated so well. There were some very very random sex scenes, and it talked about rape 4 separate times. But overall I really enjoyed it! It was nice to finish that all today while I did all my little tasks.

I decided to take a shower and wash my hair. I did not use enough conditioner and felt sort of like a lion all day. Just very fluffy hair. But it was very clean and that was nice. I felt a little greasy last night. So this made me feel better, very clean.

James had made me an omelet that they left in the microwave. And it was a particularly good one. I brought it to my studio along with my laptop to get to work.

I would spent the first couple hours of the day designing a holiday card and a postcard to give to couples who get married at camp. I thought it would be fun to have 'happy holidays' in Blackfoot. Which is what language Puhtok is from. And I was able to find it! It is more a direct translation to have a happy Christmas, but it's close enough and a debated translation. I think it's more about use, and I have literally no idea how to pronounce it. But I think it's so cool that we could use that. I hope the office agrees.

The postcard was also fun but I struggled a lot with the language on it. I made a patch design and I think it's very cute but I am not positive it's correct. Next week I will hopefully get some feedback and make it perfect. James did just tell me that I spelled congratulations wrong. Terrible. It's okay I will fix it later.

Once my laptop was on the verge of dying I would decide it was lunch time, and I would go for a drive. I had a few things I wanted to go do, and would get something to eat while I was out.

It was not as cold out, but it was very windy. Which blew my hair all over and did not help the lion hair accusations. But it was not a bad day to be out in the world.

I drove to Glen Burnie. My GPS took me a very strange way through the city to 95. Which was whatever. There wasnt any traffic and it was a pretty nice drive.

I went to value village first. I continued listening to my audio book. I enjoyed walking around and seeing all the lovely weird things. I had some excellent finds today though. I did put some things back but the trumpet candlesticks were a need. I also got a candle stick wall holder that is so lovely. I got two pairs of shoes. And another dear america book. I also got another one of the glass cups I love. I used to have more but I only have one now!! So now I have a second one again. And for $2 instead of the $20 they normally cost. Amazing.

I would pay at the self checkout after walking through the store a few times. Even though it had lights on the lady was super when I needed help when it acted wrong. "I didn't want you to use that one!!" Well then why was the light on?? And you didn't say anything. Whatever. I checked out and headed to tacobell.

It was surprisingly busy. A whole construction crew ordering at the counter. I ordered at the kiosk and had barely any wait. It was very strange.

I was all of a sudden overheated and not having a good time. I had to open the windows while I ate my lunch in the car. But once I cooled down I would feel better and be okay. Even if I had to put the AC on high in the car for a few minutes.

Target was more money then I expected. But I had fun and stuck to my list pretty well. I was very excited about the cookie/truffle tins. They light up!! It's a decoration and a snack! I was very excited for the skirt, which I thought was $10 but was actually $4! I got some hair cream. For the lion hair. And then I was done. And it was time to go home.

It was a fine drive home even if people were dumb and were being bad about merging. But I made it home in one piece.

When I got inside I took some haul pictures to show Jess what I got. And took all the tags off and put things away. And then it was back to work.

I would work on my laptop on the schedule for camp until almost 6pm. This was rough. I went through the whole schedule 3 times. I got some of it sorted. I made a lot of mistakes. I accidentally doubled things up. But I think Im at least going in the right direction even if I don't have it done yet. It was really tough to think I had it, after 3 rounds of typing everything out, and realizing it wasn't correct m it was kind of upsetting. But I need someone else who understands the schedule to give me some answers about who goes tubing and canoeing and how many lifeguards we might have. And it is just a larger task then I think I thought. And I already knew it would be hard!

I still enjoyed my book though. James would come home while I was still working. And we chatted while I worked and they helped me go over the schedule and we thought it was correct and then when I realized it wasn't I had someone to be sad with while I called it a day.

James warmed up leftovers for us. And they went to their room to play DND with friends. And I started reading another book.

Actually reading this time and not listening. I got a copy of "ballad of songbirds and snakes" and read the first 3 chapters and it's great so far. I loved the hunger game series when it came out and I'm excited that I finally am interested in reading the prequel. So then I can watch the movie.

I would take a quick shower. And get changed. I hung out in my studio for a bit. Changing out my piercings. Feeling annoyed with my second hole in my ear. I don't have any good rings for it right now, they are all broken or missing parts. I have some earrings I can wear but I am not thrilled with them right now.

I grilled my bangs and moisturized my face. And now me and James are in bed.

And tomorrow is Thanksgiving. We are going to the Chang's and I am looking forward to that. But during the day I hope to read and do some sewing. I usually hate holidays because it's so much waiting and then I can't function. But I have decided that I am doing these two things so I can't be upset about waiting all day.

And I can just be thankful for my husband and my family.

I am also thankful for you reading this. I love you. Goodnight everyone.

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 6, Part 2

Reece is trying to practice football as much as he can before he actually has a practice to attend.

Happy to report I clocked both Paris and Deanna still crushing on each other despite it being several in game weeks since I played Deanna's household. They are so adorable. Fingers crossed the sentiments stick around for when I next get back to the Yorks.

Cannot emphasize enough how less creepy the teddy is than the doll.

Bob: What about you Charlie? Giving Harvey any grandkids soon?

Harvey: Bob she's only 24

Charlie: I don't think I want to be pregnant so only time will tell

Harvey: Don't feel like you have to have kids

Carson: Hey mum

Kayleigh: Yes

Carson: The other day at recess I was all by myself and I wasn't sure what I should do when that happens

Kayleigh: Go ask some other kids if you can play with them, bravery has its rewards

Carson: Okay

Reece: You're a professional athlete, you must be able to throw a football with me

Charlie: Toss it

*Charlie ducks*

Reece: What was that?

Charlie: Sorry! I am clumsy, maybe that's why I couldn't catch it

Reece: Why do these interactions keep failing

Charlie: No clue bro

Reece: Thanks for trying

Charlie: What can I say, I'm more soccer than football

Harvey: DINNER EVERYONE!

Charlie: Come on, I'll race ya

Carson: And then, then, the scout leader said to throw it in the trash. Cardboard, in the trash!

Reece: That's basic of him

Kayleigh: Not everyone understands recycling

Harvey: I mean the only proper recycling bins are cc

Carson: So we should just keep throwing everything away into bins that never get collected and never get full

Reece: Ummm

Charlie: There are recycling machines though, right?

Carson: Machines, not bins. The recycling happens too late

Kayleigh: I'm pretty sure the eco footprint doesn't get impacted, no matter how much rubbish we produce

Carson: Ridiculous

Reece: I mean why should our environment be negatively affected because our plumbing breaks

Carson: Because that's life, the more waste we produce the worse the world gets

Charlie: Dam when did you get so heavy

Carson: I just don't want the global boiling to get us

Harvey: Son, we're sims, global boiling will not get us

Reece: But how do you know

Kayleigh: That's not helpful Reece

Reece: Excuse me for thinking

Kayleigh: Carson, we do what we can, and hopefully if other families do the same then the world will get better

Carson: You're right, at scouts we should get the message to other families to try help

After dinner Reece goes for a run because despite playing football with 4 people today he has a tense moodlet from not having enough exercise? Doesn't make sense to me either.

(Me from the future. It was a glitch. I forgot Reece doesn't actually have the active trait so definitely shouldn't have got that)

Harvey does a spot of night fishing and these views always take my breath away.

Kayleigh: Where's Kaori?

Charlie: Spending time with her grandparents. They're getting old and she's worried about how much longer they'll be here

Kayleigh: After losing her parents who can blame her for that

Charlie: I know, thanks for not being dead mum

Kayleigh: I do my best

This week's holiday is named Is It Spring Yet. Occurring on the last Sunday of winter, goals include healthy cooking, fasting and exercising. It's meant to be the opposite side of the coin to Food Coma day, and I was hard pressed to think of 16 legit holidays.

Kayleigh tries to sunbathe. I loved getting the massive skintone update. It does mean my sims tans have unpredictable outcomes though which can be good or hilarious. Carson has also entered a Clingy phase. And the tan is... not the worst one I've ever seen I guess. I might need to darken her hair though...

Football captain Lilith has accepted Reece's invitation to hang out. After some less than stellar practice Reece takes a selfie to try boost friendship, alas that feature doesn't work anymore, sorry mate. Try a conversation instead.

Lilith: I hope you improve before practice

Reece: Fitness is a weakness of mine but I love wellness so

Lilith: Different ball game kid. Is that your mum running in this heat?

Reece: Yeah, we're a fitness centric family

Lilith: That's good, it'll help

Reece: Any other tips

Lilith: Spend some time at lunches practicing with Samir, you need to get better aim

Reece: Right, I guess I'll do that then

Lilith: Smile kid, none of us start out perfect at anything

Reece: True

Lilith: I can tell you want to give this a proper go so keep practicing

Carson: Reece! Reece! Help me ride a bike

Reece: Scouts over already?

Carson: Yes. I achieved my aspiration this morning with level 10 motor skill but I still can't ride a bike

Reece: How embarrassing for you

Carson: Huh?

Reece has begun a mean phase, fingers crossed it's short

Lilith: Is this fish burnt?

Harvey: It's intentional

Kayleigh: We have other food if that's no good

Lilith: Oh no Mrs Foster, it'll be fine. Reece you didn't say your mum was a celebrity, this artwork is amazing

Kayleigh: Thank you dear, feel free to visit anytime

Charlie decided to visit after dinner so we invited Keira over and the siblings all had some catch up time. Charlie and Reece have the "childhood buds" status while Keira and Reece are "super siblings". #Parenthood has so much detail, definitely my favourite game pack!

Reece: Hey Samir, Lilith said I should talk to you about football practice

Samir: Why

Reece: I'm on the football team now

Samir: Oh

Reece: I think she was hoping you would teach me some skills

Samir: Lunch, club room

Reece: Huh?

Samir: Practice

Reece: No, I meant to say I didn't realise we had a football club room

Samir: Football and cheer. Technically.

Reece: So it's bi-purpose

Samir: Umm, yeah, sure

Reece: Did you say at lunch?

Samir: Problem?

Reece: I normally use it to eat, you know, lunch

Reece: Do you not eat lunch?

Samir: Big breakfasts

Reece: Will I fit in food

Samir: Probably

Reece: So there's no don't eat for an hour before football rule

Samir: What?

Reece: You know, like don't eat an hour before swimming

Samir: I gotta... go do stuff, see you then

Reece: Bye

If you're thinking why is this conversation so awkward, Reece developed a crush on Samir after literally saying ONE thing to him today. Samir is a loner so is pretty much constantly tense at high school. Reece saw my plan for a quick week and said nah I'm the star

Previous Part ... Next Part

[jodilin65]

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2007 Last night I dreamt I was living in California and working as a part-time extra in movies or shows. Now that sounds like it ought to be a fun job! I’m not a fan of anybody’s these days and I haven’t been since Charlie’s Angels, but it would be neat to get behind the scenes to see what it’s like. One of the good things about being an extra is that they don’t fire you if you can’t make it to a particular shooting, they just pull the next name on the list. I thought it might be nice to look for ads in the Sacramento area, but since when has God ever let me do what I want to do?

I was an alternate winner at the Incense Rack this month. The 3rd prize winner didn’t respond in time, said the stickman, who’s currently down in Florida and doesn’t plan to return till around the 9th. They probably felt that paying $5 to ship 50 sticks of incense wasn’t worth it, but I’d like to have some of my old favorites like Angel, Bump & Grind and Hugo Boss. Hopefully, he won’t be out of stock on these, but I gave him Cotton Candy, Chocolate and Black Henry to use as backups just in case.

The last of my Silk Splash order – I hope it’s the last of it – is on its way via UPS. Guess they’re really starting to try to save money! This won’t be here till the 5th, but the big Nikita doll should be here in two days. So there are to be 6 more packages in this damn state, excluding surprise wins. Two more incense packages, two more dolls, that thing to debark dogs which will hopefully be effective in California (although if we’re in an apt. dogs shouldn’t be an issue unless the building’s up against the yard of a house), and Claritin. Yes, I was pleased to discover that drugstore.com will deliver to Oregon! Since the government likes to tell people what they can and cannot put in their bodies, I did some research and found that we could order it from them. It’s actually the Claritin-D I’m after. I’m 134 pounds so this should snuff my appetite enough to let me get some of this bulk off. I’ll put it right back on, but it’ll be nice to have even a temporary break. I’m still not ready to just give up rocking and let myself go.

I’m trying a new experiment which seems to be working well so far. Since oil burners give off too much smoke and warmers are a pain because you’ve got to remember to keep the water level up, I’ve taken a warmer for a Glade-scented cartridge and shoved a cotton ball in it that I doused with watermelon oil. I plugged it in in the living room since I’m burning incense in the bedroom. It’ll be interesting to see if it works well with a milder scent that’s not concentrated and to see how long it lasts. This would be an awesome way to scent the rooms if this works!

Here goes Kim getting ready to head out to work. Sounds like she’s scraping ice off her car. At least she’s not playing music. In fact, I haven’t heard her music in a while.

We’ve canceled our DVD subscription to save a little extra money.

I just want to get the hell out of here! I’m so excited to move on and get where it’s warmer, but I dread having to experience the poverty and the chaos all over again, and I’m sick to death of starting over! Always, always starting over. But it’s so in our cards and it’s never going to change, so I may as well accept it. Meanwhile, my surprisingly naïve husband still thinks we’re going to get rich. If so, where’s the money? I still haven’t seen any yet.

I thought of another thing that’s going to suck about going back to apartments. They don’t have “apartment buildings” in the west, they’re all complexes here, and there’s always something going on. Landscaping, roofing, painting. They’re noisy even when the neighbors aren’t.

Tom’s so fed up at work that he’s getting ready to quit. Last week they used him for free overtime. Because it was a holiday week, they were able to work him overtime without having to pay him extra. It’s like he was back at BOA, working overtime for free!

Later…

I wish I didn’t have so many worries clouding my excitement of moving to California, but I just know God’s going to take the opportunity once we’re vulnerable to really fuck us over good. I am not looking forward to being jobless and homeless again! But we both agree we don’t want to stay here either. I couldn’t resent God anymore if I tried for allowing others to live so well while we struggle most of our lives to live like bums. What did we do to be less deserving? I commented to Tom how I wished we could stay at the same place for as long as Miss Perfect and the queen have been at their places, and he said that he’s not sure about Miss Perfect, but the queen hated her old house from day one, and that she chose to settle for being miserable in order to have the stability and security I wish we had.

It’s rather sad to know that our only choices in life are to keep hopelessly struggling to live where we want to live which certainly isn’t meant to be or to just learn to be “comfortably miserable.” But these are our only choices. Therefore, since we have virtually no chance of losing a place the more we hate it, I’m going to let God demote us in life and kick us back into the past for the millionth time by having our only choice be to live with others again. But this time, once we’re in an apartment, we’re going to stay there even if by some chance we do one day have money again where we could rent a house. If God wants me to be miserable and if my life can’t be mine, fine, I’ll just stay cooped up in an apartment and listen to the stomping, banging and music around me, on top of the screaming, the landscaping, and all the projects going on within the complex. I’ll let them wake me up and I’ll deal with them banging on the door, but in the end, I’ll know one thing – we couldn’t end up homeless and starving this way! An apartment is our only hope of security since we can’t own anything. So while we may never be free of mortgage payments, at least we won’t have to worry about losing a wild apartment.

Speaking of starving, I’m tempted to forget about ordering the Claritin. I think that maybe if I’m going to try to adapt to living in cheap rowdy apartments, I should also stop trying to stop gaining weight. Just when I think my metabolism can’t get any slower, it does. I haven’t been going crazy for a couple of weeks, I’ve been exercising, yet I’m still climbing. Slowly, but surely. I’m 135, and again I have to ask myself if losing weight is worth it if it’s just going to come right back. I still may get the Claritin, though, to help when the money runs out and we can’t afford to eat. I still say they’re going to start him at $7 or $8, but Mr. Naïvely Optimistic here thinks they’ll start him at around $10.

I may not even go to the dentist when and if that’s possible. Part of learning to live poorly means I shouldn’t be taking advantage of things like that.

If only I were deaf! That would be half the battle right there. I could be a city girl in the dumpiest of apartments forever, though I would still feel the vibrations of doors slamming and shit like that. Oh well. If there’s any good to people being the selfish, disrespectful, loud, rude assholes they are it’s that I don’t have to worry about being quiet for people who have no concept of the word in the first place. I simply couldn’t respect those who didn’t respect me, though I’d have to be quiet when Tom was asleep.

It just really depresses me to know that the rest of my life is basically going to be one big settlement just like it always has. I try not to think about it. If I do, I may end up bawling my eyes out and that’s what God wants; to see me hurting. Well, I’m not about to give the bastard the satisfaction of seeing me break down in tears! I know what’s coming to us, there’s nothing we can do about it, so we may as well accept it.

Strange how it’s so easy to get into places we hate, but virtually impossible to get into places we want to be in. Shoot someone on the street and you’re in jail in an instant. But try to get back into a modest house on some acreage, and you’re asking for a miracle!

Saying that I’m not going to let the freeloaders scare me from speaking my mind may be easier said than done. When I remember how Andrea at the Vista reacted to the complaint about her 16 wild siblings, and how it only made her go from bad to worse, I wonder if perhaps we should just sit back and take whatever shit people dish at us. People are just too damn sensitive, immature and such sore losers.

Even if they did have stereo ordinances, what good would they do? You can’t complain about the ones that drive by every few minutes, just the ones sitting around, and those are the types of people who are bound to react the worst. Those are some of the most defiant little fucks on earth. The only way to curb the stereo problem would be to stop selling the damn things in the first place and make them illegal to own, but in our twisted and totally backward society, that’ll never happen.

In better news, I got the Nikita doll. Although she’s a little anorexic, she’s beautiful. She and the mannequins will be the first to go too, once we’re forced to sell things thanks to the “friends and family” God’s blessed us with. For now, I’m going to enjoy her. I like how she’s affixed to her stand which is a white piece of wood. Her party dress is nice and colorful and I like her accessories, too.

Other than the incense, I’m still winning piddly crap. I work so hard to win so little! Maybe if I were lazy God would shower me with all kinds of money. But nah, it’s just not in my cards no matter what I do.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2007 We’ve been having highs in the 30s and we ended up with a foot of snow. What’s even worse is that they’re saying it’s to snow all week. Argh! I can’t wait to move! They say Klamath Falls has never before gotten two snow days in a row, and that it’s caused by the global warming that’s going on. I guess global warming will make cold climates worse and deserts rainier. The ice is melting on a lot of North Pole glaciers, and they’re saying that in about 50 years they may be able to sail across the entire North Pole. But how it will affect more temperate climates like Sacramento remains to be seen. I shouldn’t have 50 years left in this damn world anyway, thank God!

Later…

The Ashton-Drake doll and cat came today. Although she’s way overpriced and a little small, the doll’s beautiful. That is, in heavyset Emme’s outfit. Her outfit was fine except for the dull brown and gray colors that were in it. Now she’s in lavender silk slacks with a matching lace camisole.

The cat and nursing kittens, however, weren’t that impressive so they’re going back. Instead, I’m going to get a 10” black baby doll that’s very realistic looking with micro-rooted hair.

Speaking of blacks, the ones that aren’t made of porcelain or vinyl are pissing me off again. “Virginia apologizes in slavery role,” said the headline. I only skimmed through the article, but I was like, for what role? There’s no one left alive today that made slaves of the fucking assholes! Who apologizes to the gays? I asked Tom. He said they’re about to pass a federal law prohibiting discrimination against gays, but I’ll have to see it to believe it. Either way, isn’t the fact that blacks get more rights apology enough for something that no one alive today had a hand in whatsoever? Hell, the state of Oregon should apologize to us for getting so damn cold! God should apologize to me for simply allowing me to be born to the people I was born to! Or the least He could do is allow us to have money. Nothing could undo what He’s let others do to me or to Tom, so I don’t understand why He can’t at least have the decency to compensate us financially so we can live where we want to live. Haven’t we done it His way long enough?

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 2007 Someone next door is named Thaddea. UPS accidentally delivered some pricy organic teas they ordered. Since neither of us is interested in them, Tom’s going to reseal the box and give it to the UPS guy when he sees him tomorrow at work so he can get it to them. I just hope he hasn’t given them any of our packages!

Thaddea’s email was on the invoice and I couldn’t resist confusing her by sending her an email saying: How’s the new place? I hear it’s noisy down there. When I talked to him he said there was a dog that barked non-stop across the canal. How are you otherwise? We’re fine. We’ll visit soon.

Then I realized she may have or may get a piece of our mail with my name on it and know who sent it, but oh well. What can she do to me for it? I just hope she doesn’t email me or come over cuz I don’t want Tom to find out about it. He’d be paranoid for life! Hopefully, they won’t make trouble for us, but those that make trouble for us make trouble for themselves as well, so we’ll see.

Anyway, although they sure look Hispanic, and I was pretty sure that was Spanish I heard them speak a couple of times, the name hardly seems Hispanic. Perhaps it’s Indian. Indians and Hispanics tend to look similar, and it would explain why there aren’t 100 people over there or why they haven’t been a constant problem. Besides, not many Mexicans would work as much as they seem to. Either way, I think the only reason God hasn’t used them as instruments of torture against us is that I moved my office and He knows we’re moving soon enough anyway. If we were suddenly the owners of this place with no intention of moving soon, then all would change.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 2007 Just when we thought the worst of winter was over, we get slammed with enough snow to make anyone go California dreamin’! There’s a good 4-5 inches out there. It’s been keeping the stereos to a minimum, but not the dog.

Still nothing but piddly wins. Maybe I’ll win something good I can have someday soon enough.

I haven’t been doing anything to lose weight. I work out when I can, but I can’t diet until I can get a hold of something to check the hunger. Maybe someday people will put their energy into figuring out how to weed the calories out of food, rather than what kind of break we can give blacks because their ancestors had it rough.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 2007 Today we lost $8. We seem to go back and forth, so I told Tom not to bother reporting to me unless I ask. I’m sick of hearing one day how we could’ve won $900, then hearing the next how we lost $8. And I’m sick of God teasing us!!! But He’s not going to string me along and play with my head anymore on this issue. I know I’m not allowed to have what I want in life and that I must settle, so there’s nothing to tease me with anymore. He can keep us down, but He cannot keep us here in Oregon! That’s for sure. For the millionth time, I’m wondering if I should pray for what I don’t want. It may be meant to be anyway, but it’s the only way I feel like He’s on my side and listening to me. He hears me when I ask for what I don’t want, then goes deaf when I ask for what I do want. So maybe if I prayed for poverty and noisy neighbors and quit trying to fight Him on these issues He so desperately wants me to have to deal with every time I move, He’ll lay off for a while. Tom says moving to California is actually a step up and that there’s no real security here because they’re doing so badly at work, but the company hasn’t folded yet. All I know is that my life isn’t mine to live as I see fit, so maybe it’s time to just resign to that fact and go with the flow. What else can I do anyway?

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 19, 2007 We’re now shooting for April as far as moving goes. To think that I could be moving to California, something I could only dream of and fantasize about in the past, in less than two months, is pretty mind-boggling!

EFO had a good day today, though we certainly aren’t rich. We would’ve won $900, though, had he bet $24 on each of the 20 or so races that he only bet a buck or two on. He says he needs to discipline himself by waiting until he has $500 from little wins built up before he goes betting big time. Until now, he’d win a little, then try to go for the big bucks and lose what he’d won. I no longer see these potential big wins as encouraging, though. I see them as teases, but I won’t even let God tease me anymore with them. I’m sick of Him teasing us with money, so I’m just going to accept in my mind that we’ll never have money and move on. Meanwhile, Tom still thinks we’ll be rich someday. I still think he should keep at it just because he has so much fun with it, but if by some chance I’m wrong, it won’t be anytime soon. Maybe if we suddenly loved this place and he liked his job and we had no plans to move, then we might win more. But we need money for the move and the more we need money, the less we get it, so we’re going to have to go down with not much more than the Unemployment and hope for the best. At least we’ll have the Unemployment. When we came up here, we not only didn’t have the bamboo, but we didn’t have any income coming in. By the time the RV was bought, we had barely 2 grand left.

The past always comes back to haunt us, so I’m sure we’ll end up in an apartment. While there’s no such thing as a quiet apartment, the good thing about the apartments there, according to Tom’s research, is that you can rent them on a month-to-month basis. They do have 6-month leases too, which is good. I was worried that like with back east (it could’ve changed by now, though) we’d be locked into a place for a whole year. Although it’s more expensive overall, they even have dumps like this for the same price. Since we can’t have our cake and eat it too, meaning a nice place and plenty of extra money, then yeah, I’d still take the dump and the extra money before I took a nice place with nothing left for us once the necessities were paid.

As Tom pointed out, if EFO never does any better than it has, even though he thinks it will, and he gets a job at $10 an hour, then it’d be like having a job that’s $13 an hour after you factor in the EFO winnings. This is what he makes right here, too.

We’re going to research to see if God forbid someone may’ve cared enough to have any ordinances on car stereos in Sacramento set into motion because if by chance we have any rights and could do something about it other than killing the assholes playing them, we want to know about it before we go back to having to deal with that shit in the ways we had to in Phoenix. Then that’ll just leave the barking to deal with, but that’s a hell of a lot easier to drown out with fans and music as long as the damn thing’s not literally right against the wall of our place. And I’m not living with basketball hoops again either!

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 2007 Tom did some checking and was surprised to find it only costs $30 to rent a trailer to move us with, and just $125 to rent a newer, more comfortable, more reliable truck for a few days, too. 300 miles sure beats 1100, but that’s still a long haul for such an old piece of shit. So the mailman may get it after all, though I won’t tell him that till we know for sure. Once we get down there, we could get an old piece of shit right away. So getting there shouldn’t be a problem, it’s surviving there that I’m worried about. How can I not be paranoid after what happened when we first came here to Oregon? Yet this time around we’ll be armed with something we didn’t have when we came up here and that’s the bamboos. Even Tom agrees we probably wouldn’t have fared so badly had we had them upon coming up here.

So while the horseracing thing is still proving to be the bust I knew it’d be in November, I do at least have that Nikita doll on her way! The seller did come through after all, and we both agreed that for the sake of our reputation on eBay, I should buy it like I said I would as soon as it was listed. So Jade will get her packing box after all as well since I figured the outer or inner box would be ideal to move her in. Jade’s 32” and Nikita’s 33”.

I checked and saw that they jacked their 10-packs up a quarter to 75¢. Tom thinks they may still have trouble, but we’ll see.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2007 Got 20 more packs of incense today in which the mailman left two rubber bands around, along with the other mail. This is because I thanked him for all the rubber bands in my little note to him, saying how they’ll help with packing and moving. Anyway, two of the bags didn’t have labels on them so I have no idea what they are. I’ve been getting so carried away having fun with trying out all the new smells that my lungs have been tight lately. Especially since I’m in a smaller room. I’ve been making a point of leaving the doors open to air it out a bit, but being such a tiny house, it doesn’t have much space to branch out in and then it only bothers Tom.

Later…

And they just keep on fucking up. But at least this time it’s in my favor! Kepa said I could consider those blank bags extras as he didn’t remember any unlabeled bags. Then he asked me for a list of the labeled ones I got so he could cross-reference them with the list of the ones sent for that day. He was then able to tell me what they were and said he’d send more with the labels they had there. There goes another buck on his part!

I told him we were moving to California in a few months and that was why I did such a big order. I didn’t want to just try new scents but to stock up as I expect to be broke for a while. I also told him I understood if he wanted to cringe every time he saw an email from me, but that once I got settled down there, I’d order more often, but in smaller quantities. He replied by saying that it’s okay, it only teaches them that they have to account for things like this, he’s just worried I feel I had to wait so long, etc. I told him I’ve had to wait longer before for other things, and that it was good that he broke the order up. I know he may’ve lost money on it, but this way I could have fun sampling some and look forward to knowing more was on its way, etc.

Anyway, in both good and bad dog news – the dog in front hasn’t been around, so that’s good. But the canal dog has been a nightmare. I can’t even stand to be in the kitchen! I can’t cook in peace, I can’t eat in peace, I can’t wash dishes in peace, I can’t even put the damn groceries away in peace! Every few minutes off it goes on a barking fit. How in the world can the owners and people who are even closer to the fucking thing stand it??? It’s insane!

The racing’s going just okay, though he’s been trying different things with the way he places bets, programs, codes, etc. He even thinks my spell is working and that it’s just taking effect very slowly like the one we did at the duplex. Well, I’m not yet convinced about the spell, and as for the racing, I still say it’s going to do okay here and poorly there. It just doesn’t go with what’s been in our cards as of yet; having money. You don’t curse someone financially for so long just to let them one day have a ton of money. We’re not exactly doing too bad right now, but look how we have to live in order to do okay – like a pair of bums in a dive. Never can we have a nice place to go with the money. As much as I hate to give up the security we have here since he hates his job too much to ever be lucky enough to be let go, we both agree that this place sucks. There’d be no benefit in staying other than that we could go shopping regularly. Other than that, it’s too cold, too small, too old, too open, too tilted, too noisy, etc. The only thing I listed that we can’t escape is the noise, but even if I’m right about us struggling like hell once we leave here, can our next place really be this bad? Our best bet is still probably going to be an adults-only trailer park. I don’t like the idea of living in a tin can where I can’t sing without an audience, and that lets sound in like not even this place can since there’ll still be barking and music, but as always, God will decide for us where we should go. Not us.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2007 Today Andy would be 45 years old. I wonder if he still looks younger. I wonder if he’s still even in Arizona, and if so, is he still alone and flitting from one meaningless job to another? Is he still a pothead? If he is and if he’s in Arizona, I hope to hell he never gets caught!

The shitheads next door just surprised me by leaving quietly. I’m amazed. Let’s hope they keep it up.

Tom just got in and drained the cooler we’ve been using. He’s been buying blocks of ice and they last a surprisingly long time. This way we can get refrigerated/frozen stuff.

Randy, the mailman, left a note asking if we plan to sell our truck, and if so, let him know. I’m not catching him as much anymore now that my office is in the bedroom and I can’t see out the window, but I’ll leave a note letting him know that if we do sell it before we move this summer, we’ll let him know.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2007 The Mexicans traded in the old white pickup for a nice new dark green SUV to haul the cement mixer with, so we saw on our way back from the store. And I’d bet just about all my stuff just what kind of stereo is in it, too! But they would die for anyone over anything, so even if they knew someone would shoot and kill them over it, they’d keep right up with their shit till they were killed, though we haven’t heard it yet. Another month or two and I’m sure they’ll be a nightmare. Then in a month or two after that, we can trade them in for a new nightmare where it’s nice and warm.

One of them was on his way up this street as we got onto it. I knew it would go next door, and it did. It entered the side door, and some chick was out front smoking yesterday.

Yesterday, Todd, the FedEx driver, waved to us as we were going to the pizza place, a place we hadn’t been to in a long time. Then he dropped a package off at the house for the boss and Tom took it in to him. Guess he had too many packages to deliver. You know you live in a small town when a driver drops off your boss’ package!

Speaking of packages, I’ve got a package on its way to me today, then the final one ships tomorrow, or so they say. No wonder they’ve got to up their prices. That’s 5 packages and no doubt more than what we paid for shipping! Tom’s probably right when he says they’re probably sorry I’m the charter member with how much money I’ve lost them.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2007 Tom says he’s still 99% sure he can make a few hundred a day if he continues to develop his program, though he does admit that if it’s not happening by June when we go to leave, then it’s not gonna happen. I’ve known since November that this thing is just going to make a few bucks here and take a few bucks there. Of course, it would help if the stormy weather could lay off and the horses could quit breaking their legs, but I just can’t see any real money in this thing. It totally goes against God’s plans for us to struggle like a pair of bums throughout most of life, living where we don’t want to live. You don’t trap someone in places like Brattleboro, Valleyhead, jail, most of the apartments I had, or the Phoenix house because you like to see them be where they want to be.

I start to get excited about getting away from the fucking canal dog after living with it for what will be nearly two years, but why bother? I’ll just be going to live with another one down there. At least it will be warm most of the time! I miss being in a newer place where I can wear shorts most of the time. I miss the palms and year-round flowers. Oh, to have more than 600 square feet of levelness! I dread the noise, the giant spiders, and what health problems that lay ahead for me, but the risk will be worth it. I’m getting sicker and sicker of this house by the minute, and the whole damn state!

I haven’t been in the mood to do any writing, so I’ve been bored. I wish I could find more things to do! Guess I’ll go read for now.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2007 Safeway’s no longer the fun adventure it used to be with Liz gone. Or at least we think she’s gone since Tom hasn’t seen her. I guess if she can go from not seeming to be pregnant at all, to seeming 5 months pregnant the next day, then to 8 the next, according to when Tom last saw her, then why not jump to having had it already? Maybe there are 4 Lizs! So much for trying to do any more spells on her! Poor girl, to have her life be over at just 25 years of age. Then again, we both agree it was hard to judge her age. Her appearance suggested she was around 25, but her personality and the way she talked suggested she could be a bit older, though I can’t believe she’s over 30. For her sake, I just hope her man sticks by her.

Since the Nikita seller is obviously not reliable and not likely to come through for me, I had to choose between a couple of Ashton-Drake items, Barbies, Tonners, or this beautiful Asian mannequin up for sale on eBay, and in the end, I chose the Ash items. All but one of the Tonners I currently want aren’t available yet, and I’d rather wait longer and pay twice as much for those lingerie mannequins that are super nice. So I’m getting an Indian doll that lies on her side, propped up on one elbow that measures 15” long. I’m also getting a black and white “breathing, purring” cat with 3 kitties. This will be my last treat for who knows how many years, thanks to our lovely God who’s no doubt going to jump at the opportunity to kick us down hard and long as soon as we move.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2007 God’s little bum just signing in, wanting to say that my resentment for Him only deepens. He has us reduced to not only doing without a refrigerator but not being able to use the microwave when both portable heaters and computers are running, thanks to the ancient electrical wiring in this dive which Tom thinks was actually built in the 20s, not the 40s. But every now and then I forget to turn off the heater before zapping something, so I had to go out through the cold and the mud and hit the fuse button earlier. I had Tom show me where it was so I wouldn’t have to wake him up. This is just what we need this late in life, huh?! Never can get ahead. Just never can fucking get ahead! And when we start to, we get kicked back. What’s the bastard want me to say? Something like, “Fine, I’ll be your little bum by not bothering with the microwave either so I don’t have to have the hassles of setting clocks and having my computers reboot. I’ll wash my clothes in the tub, I’ll eat cheap shit, I’ll put my own self in pain somehow on days that You don’t, I’ll do things I don’t want to do, I’ll find the dumpiest, noisiest dive available in Sacramento (not that this one would be any challenge), etc.” Maybe if I did do all of this He’d lay off me for a change, or just maybe I would be rewarded in the afterlife because there sure as hell won’t be any compensation in this life!

Liz has been gone and so has next door. Yet it doesn’t seem like they’ve moved because the window coverings are still up. What, are we going to have to go through yet another turnover before we move, or what? Could they have moved to a place where they can play music without anyone bitching about it? I can’t believe they’d move over that. If they have moved, then because it was so soon after moving in, it’s gotta be because they got in trouble as most freeloaders do. And this is Oregon, so if they fucked over any white folks, they’re not going to get away with it that easily.

Kepa said my 4th and final package was to be mailed out tomorrow, he’s sorry for the delay and that even though the prices are based on my suggestion, they may have to raise the prices or unit sizes due to the labor involved, and they simply don’t have all their 1500 scents soaking at once. The company’s not as big as I originally thought it was, but as I told him, I understand, and he’ll always have a customer in me. To get such a big order in less than a month sure beats the two months it’d take Incense Galore to send me small orders! I’m glad they broke it up into multiple mailings as I was running out of incense when the first batch arrived. I told him the only things I’d change are to continue enlarging the fonts, keep the outsides of the bags free of oils, so they don’t stick to other bags and pull the writing off, and watch the count. Some bags were short a stick or two. Meanwhile, I love his service and products. He asked how many were short, and I told him I hadn’t kept track, but maybe 20-30 bags were short, and that some of the sticks sometimes still go out, but they’re usually fine once I relight them. I also like how he has no order minimum requirement, and explained that I got such a big order because we’re moving out of state soon, which will no doubt leave us broke for a while. Lastly, I still have about 500 or so scents I want to try, but then my orders won’t be so big as I’ll have a ‘favorites’ list. I may then order in larger quantities, but not as many different items.

Tom hasn’t been able to do any races because of bad weather. Funny how there’s always something.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2007 With the exception of that $200 he won, EFO is still proving to be TUT. I keep thinking that God better compensate me for all the shit I’ve gone through! And Tom too, but I know He won’t. The last thing God cares about is seeing that Tom and Jodi get rich. God doesn’t always compensate. He’s often cruel and unfair, period. So with this in mind, all I can do is hope the transition to Sacramento goes a hell of a lot smoother than the move up here did, but I know it’ll be rough sailing. Long-distance moves always are unless you have money. The move to Deerfield, Norwich, Phoenix, Maricopa, then finally to Oregon, all left me/us broke. Each move took us a year or more to get on our feet, and of course, we never quite made it in Maricopa.

I’ll at least hope we don’t lose everything when we do get down there, and that we won’t have to suffer in the mainstream of chaos and antics for more than 5 years. I’m also hoping that if we can’t have an out-of-the-way house before he’s 55, we’ll at least be able to rent something in a retirement community. We may still get dogs and car doors there, but that’d eliminate things like music, and houses having basketball hoops with animals slamming balls outside our windows for 5 hours at a time. Of course, I still say the freeloading sickos coaxed their animals into doing that for my account, but the point’s still the same. What’s also the same is that life isn’t about getting what I want, so I assume these are just dreams. Life really, really isn’t what I want in both big and small ways. Of the many books and DVDs I’ve won, for example, not one of them was any of the ones I wanted! So I sure am welcome to live wherever I don’t want to live, that’s for sure.

I totally resent God more and more for making us live like this. We may’ve chosen this dump of a house so we could have extra money, but we shouldn’t have to live like bums in order to do so at our ages. I totally feel picked on and singled out while everyone else in our families gets to live in their nice houses and drive their fancy cars. What the fuck makes them so much better and deserving than us? I’m tired of being God’s little bum!

I just wish Tom would quit being so naïve where this program’s concerned. It’s simply not going to make more than a few bucks a day if even that. He had made $35 on Saturday, then lost it Sunday due to two horses breaking legs. Horses break legs all the time in racing, so I don’t see how he expects to make more than just a few scattered bucks here and there with an occasional 100-to-200-dollar winner, just like with scratch tickets. If it is going to pay off more, and that’s a big if, then it’s not going to be anytime soon. Certainly not before June.

I left Kim some incense I didn’t like. Although it hasn’t woken me up yet, I’m getting tired of having to hear her music when she comes and goes, which is getting to be more often lately. Where did this come from? She went over a year without music, and now it’s a common occurrence with her. Is it because she hears mine? Does she figure there’s nothing I could do about it being 150 pounds lighter? Does she figure we’re cool enough with each other that I wouldn’t care? Well, as long as it doesn’t get any louder I won’t care. I’m a bit concerned, however, that as the weather warms up, she won’t have sense enough to turn it down when she’s got her windows open.

The bad news is that we’re in for the second round of snow since returning from the cruise, and lower highs. They’ll be in the 30s and 40s rather than the 50s, but the good is that the lows won’t be down in the teens. That really makes the nights really uncomfortable when they are! It’ll be hitting down into the 20s and 30s instead.

We’ve been noticing a surprising pattern with next door and that’s that they seem to take off during the weekends. I can’t imagine where it is they go, I’m just shocked they haven’t been a problem. I’m also shocked I haven’t seen any kids over there. Maybe they’d have turned out to be a problem had I kept my office in the living room, and maybe Kim’s getting a little more musical lately because I moved it onto her driveway. She’s just the type to play loud music, too. She’s young and no doubt lonely, destined to be alone forever as big as she is. Anyway, we’ll see how next door is when it warms up, as in the 60s and 70s.

Nothing but piddly wins lately, but at least those don’t give us any headaches.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2007 What a little klepto this rat is! I was searching for the DVD list I left by the door only to find that the furry little thief had dragged it into her cage.

It’s now that time of month when I get several emails congratulating me for other people’s wins. This is totally offensive, too!

I’m going to leave some of the incense I don’t like by Kim’s door early this morning before she gets in from work. Still having fun with all the scents, deciding what should go on my list of favorites and what shouldn’t.

I did hear from the Nikita seller after all. She said she’s out of town but plans to list her next week. At $25 more than I thought she would, but it’s still a good deal. I’ve been wanting this doll for 3 years.

[fushipurro]

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 8 - Simplicity

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☆ Content: light angst, dare i say: tooth-rotting fluff

☆ Word Count: 5.8k

With the end of Megumi’s birthday comes Christmas, and you’re set to host it with the Fushiguro family.

It was actually you’re idea, believe it or not. Partially because Toji has nothing in the form of festive décor, and even if he wanted to go out now for some, every shelf in each store has already been wiped clean.

The other reason is your desire to help. Taking care of three kids as a single father is no joke, and it’s a way to repay his kindness towards you.

Following Megumi’s big day, you dug out all the boxes hoarding dust in the back of your closest. It’s not much besides a tree, lights, and various pieces, but it’ll have to do. You have plenty of other ideas in mind to spread the holiday cheer, something you yourself haven’t felt in the years prior to now.

On the eve of the holiday, you invited the kids over for one of your favorite seasonal activities ─ baking sugar cookies.

Regardless of it being the night before Christmas, Toji still has to head in to work later in the evening and could use some time to himself to rest.

You prepared the dough ahead of time, hopefully making today run smoothly. All the kids will need to do is cut shapes and put icing on the cookies, making for a much easier cleanup. Or so you hope.

Your already small kitchen is made worse with you, three kids, and a cat filling the space, but nothing you can’t handle.

“Who wants to play a game?” you ask with some popsicle sticks in hand.

Mai and Megumi cheer in unison, while Maki’s remains stoic, but curious.

The game will decide the order of which the children will have a turn with the dough, helping alleviate any stepping of toes from the lack of room. Each stick has a number written on the end, and all they have to do is pick at random to keep things fair.

Mai will be getting the first shot, followed by Maki, and Megumi last.

You give a quick demonstration on rolling the dough, that way if they want to try, they can when it’s their turn. Mai is eager, with restless hands tapping the countertop. Maki watches intently from the other side of the counter, while Megumi is just happy to have Tsumiki around his feet.

“Now just take one of these… and press it into the dough,” you instruct, using one of the many holiday cutouts you have available.

“Can I pick any?” Mai asks, holding a candy cane shape in one hand, and a star in the other.

“Use whichever ones you’d like, sweetie.” You smile, gesturing to everything laid out. From hats to trees, stockings and presents, you have it all for what is likely any of their first times baking. “There’s plenty of dough to go around so I want you all to do whatever makes you happy. These cookies are for you.”

Mai does hers one at a time, choosing only the shapes she likes rather than how her twin intends to do things.

Maki leaves little space in between each of the cutouts, going at it from an optimal approach. While not blatantly smiling, her focused eyes make it clear enough she’s at least trying to have fun.

In the few days you’ve known the twins, Maki’s been the more difficult of the two to crack. Her relation to Toji is uncanny through more than looks and it’s a shock they’re only cousins. You hope with more time spent together with her, that she’ll open up like Megumi has done with you.

While Megumi hasn’t called you mama again since that day, he has been clinging to you more often than usual. Seeing Yuji and Yuki together may have triggered something for Megumi or made him realize he wants a bond like that with you.

You’re hopeful he’ll say it again when he’s ready.

Being a mother wasn’t something you were always able to envision for your future, especially after being told by a dozen doctors it wouldn’t be possible.

You learned early on not to have dreams about it.

Adoption exists and although you’re open to the idea, finding someone that will except you for everything you are proves more than difficult.

Maki finishes her batch, stepping away from the counter. Megumi grabs at the hem of your shirt in order to get your attention. “My turn?”

“It is, are you ready?” He nods, and you pick him up and onto the stool so he’s able to reach the dough.

As soon as his eyes land on the reindeer cutout, he goes right for it without hesitation. Megumi has some difficulty pressing the cutout down due to his arms not fully able to reach.

“You’re doing it wrong,” Maki chides, a closed fist propping her head up on the counter.

“Am not,” he refutes, but Maki starts pointing to his unintentional error.

“Look, you’re missing a leg and that spot’s too thin.”

Megumi pouts. “So?”

As he shakes his hand from side to side to separate the shape from the rest of the dough, he ends up losing more than just a leg in the process.

“It’s messed up,” Maki bluntly points out, and it’s evident Megumi’s becoming frustrated.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you intervene before things get worse.

What even is the right way to scold someone else’s child? You end up going for a light approach just to be safe, hoping it works out.

“Look here.” You take the botched reindeer into your hands with the rest of the dough, rolling it back into a ball. With the rolling pin in your hands this time, you stretch the dough out properly, ensuring all sides are an even size. “If you make a mistake, we can always fix it. It’s no trouble at all.”

Megumi makes another attempt, looking to you for approval before pushing the cutter down. This time he manages to get a proper shape out of it, his eyes lighting up with joy that washes all the stress away.

“Good job!” you say while clapping, forgetting that your hands are coated in flour. It sends a cloud of white dust right into your face, sticking to your hair. The three start laughing and then trying to mimic you for fun.

So much for mess free baking, but who cares so long as they get to enjoy themselves.

Once the kids all get the hang of what to do, the rest runs smooth and easy. Megumi does however insist that his cookies must be reindeer shaped. The next time you do this with him, you’re going to have to look into some more animal cutouts.

The fact you’re even thinking about a second Christmas with the Fushiguros brings a warm feeling to your heart.

“Alright Maki, this will be the last batch, so make it count,” you tell her, and she’s silent for a moment. You almost believe she’s having trouble deciding what shape to use which is odd given how confident she was earlier.

She suddenly declares, “Megumi can have my turn.”

“Really?” He replies, shocked by her words. It surprises even you, but you guess it’s her way of apologizing.

Maki nods her head, stepping away from the counter to make room for Megumi.

“That’s very kind of you, Maki.” You smile to her, causing a rosy tint to appear on her cheeks. “Now ’Gumi, what do we say?”

“Thank you, Maki!”

Instead of going for the reindeer as expected, he chooses a gingerbread man. Not only that, but Megumi then starts reaching for Maki’s hand.

“Together.”

“You want me to help?” she questions, looking as shocked as he did just seconds ago. Megumi nods his head, further deepening her blush. “F-fine! But only ‘cause it was my turn before.”

You both know that’s not true.

With the last of the cookies ready to go in the oven, you help clean off all their tiny hands before sending them off to the couch with some snacks as a reward for their hard work.

To pass the time until the next step of this process, they decide on watching Santa Buddies first and foremost, leaving you to handle all the oven work. The movie gives you plenty of time to make sure everything’s perfect and cleaned up.

When all is said and done, and the credits are rolling, you bring the kids back into the kitchen for the best part of this whole thing ─ decorating.

You’ve already laid out several bowls filled with a combination of powdered sugar and milk, creating the perfect icing. All that’s left now is for each of the kids to add drops of food coloring, the task you’ve always enjoyed the most as an artist.

They each have their own plate of cookies to decorate, evenly distributed so no competition can come of it. It doesn’t stop them from trying to make the best decorated cookie.

Maki shoots for whatever works, regardless of whether that means Santa gets a blue hat instead of red. Mai’s cookies are color coordinated as intended, and surprisingly is kept within clean edges.

As for Megumi well… he’s having fun, that’s for sure. His reindeer appear straight out of My Little Pony with rainbows or a variety of patterns, some even having Rudolph’s red nose.

Everything except for the gingerbread shapes he’s refusing anyone to see until he’s done.

In the meantime, you’re pulled away from the group at the sound of your door, opening it to an interesting sight.

“Toji? Or should I say Santa?” you tease.

He enters your home wearing the signature hat on top of his usual gray sweatpants, black shirt combo.

“Ho, ho.” He deadpans, playfully shaking his head with a small smile. Toji walks over to the kids, peering over their shoulders. “What do we have here?”

“No peeking!” Megumi shouts at his father while trying to cover his work in progress.

“Okay, okay, sheesh.” Toji raises his hands defensively, backing off. He then turns to you, leaning against your fridge with arms crossed. “Looks like you’ve been havin’ fun.” He gestures to your hands. “Who’d you murder without me?”

It’s only then you realize how stained your hands are in red. “Oh,” you chuckle, “We got a bit carried away with the food coloring is all.”

Toji hums, unconvinced. “Is that so? Well, you better hope I don’t see your name come up on the naughty list then.” He winks.

“Hey, I’m more than happy to be given rocks as gifts ─ even coal! I’m not picky.”

“Sweetheart, you deserve diamonds, not coal,” he scoffs, putting you at a loss for words.

If one were to put rose or cherry quartz next to your face, they wouldn’t find a difference between the two.

Toji yawns, cracking his neck. “Thanks for doing all this so I could sleep, I appreciate it.” He rolls his shoulders and you’re nearly mesmerized by muscles of his arms flexing. A few more pops sound from his back.

“Y-yeah, no worries.” You swallow, realizing your throat’s gone dry. “I’m happy to help.”

“They’ve been good for you, I hope?” Toji asks, swiping one of the cookies from Maki’s plate. She doesn’t say anything in response except for a harsh glare he ignores.

Earlier issues aside, you have no complaints. Some kids would’ve turned your kitchen into a winter wonderland with flour or start a food fight with dough, but not these three.

“The best,” you reply, your words making him gleam.

Toji takes a bite of the cookie, and his eyes widen as he chews. “These are good,” he says in between bites. “What’d you put in them, crack?” You stare at him, appalled for having no filter, even in front of children.

“No, we put love in them,” Megumi tells him, using the phrase you said earlier when discussing the magic of baking.

“Did you now?” Toji smirks, side-eyeing you.

“It’s better than what you’re suggesting I’m feeding these kids.” You know he’s only teasing in his attempt to compliment you, but you’ve gotten comfortable joking back at him like this.

“You gotta admit, they’re equally addicting,” he counters, yet, he does have a point.

For better or worse, love makes you dependent, igniting a deeper craving for more. Insatiable, and your favorite drug. There is no better high than the one you get from someone who you deem your everything in life.

“Done!” Megumi cheers, raising his arms joyfully.

You and Toji come up from behind him, and the twins at either side. There’s a total of five gingerbread men lined up, each taking after everyone in the room. One of the reindeer even resembles Tsumiki in a way, if she were a colorful cervine.

He used green icing to distinguish Maki and Mai by their hair, and somehow got a darker shade when you weren’t looking for Toji and his own gingerbread hair. Their eyes are each their respective colors of green and blue, something you wonder is a trait Megumi got from his mother.

The final cookie then resembles you, from your hair to your eyes, and even the color of clothes you have on.

“Aww, ‘Gumi, these are so cute!” You hug the boy, and his expression turns bashful. “They’re so pretty, I don’t know how I’m gonna eat them now.”

His voice comes at a whisper, “I made family.”

Forget your infatuation with Toji, Megumi has stolen your heart.

“Nice work, Megs,” Toji praises, ruffling his hair before doing the same to the twins. “You too, girls.” They both look happy as well, with a rare, subtle smile appearing on Maki’s face.

When you think about all the cartoons you’ve watched as a child with episodes about Christmas lasting forever and what not, you can’t blame those who want such things.

You love this family, and if every day could feel like today, then maybe it’s worth living to the next.

The rest of the evening is spent gathered around the TV to enjoy another holiday classic, The Nightmare Before Christmas. The fresh sugar cookies taste better than you remembered and made for an excellent treat while waiting on dinner, something else you all enjoy together.

Like family.

The next morning, Megumi is up bright and early knocking on your door, Toji and the twins right behind him.

“Merry Christmas!” they greet in unison, with Megumi running up to hug you.

“Come in, come in!” You wave your hand while parting your door. “I just finished making breakfast.”

Truth be told, you were up early for once in preparation. It was hard to sleep last night, almost like you were a child again with your outfit of the day folded at the foot of your bed, ready to go.

For breakfast, you went with the tradition of cinnamon rolls, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, monkey bread, fruit, and whatever else you thought would be good. It seems like a lot, but it all comes together quickly and is eaten just as fast by kids who want to unwrap presents already.

You help get the kids seated, filling their plates as well as Toji’s all nice and full, with plenty of extras. He’s off putting gifts below your tree while you do so. With Tsumiki around, it’s a miracle it’s still standing despite her best efforts at making it her designated cat tower.

Toji returns to the table, eyeing everyone’s suspiciously full plates in comparison to yours. “Is that gonna be enough for you?” Toji asks, sitting down.

“Oh, this is plenty,” you tell him dismissively. Even if it’s not, you want to make sure everyone else gets their fill, prioritizing their needs over yours.

“Please, that’s too little.” Toji holds his plate over yours, brushing some of the food off.

“You don’t have to, I’m fine, I promise!” you say, but he doesn’t let up until you have a larger portion than him.

“Eat what you can, I can always finish what’s left.” His words are reassuring, but you hope he’s not trying to hold back for your sake. Ironic.

You mutter your thanks as you begin eating. You’re happy to see the kids all excited ─ even Maki beneath her stoic expression.

Toji on the other hand… well, you know that look of exhaustion anywhere.

It’s likely given his graveyard hours that he hasn’t had a moment of rest since the day prior but is pushing through unbothered.

Three kids are no joke. It’s a lot to shoulder, even with your help. It’s admirable how self-sacrificing he can be for his family, and you hope he knows how good a father he is.

You end up purposely leaving extras on your plate for him.

After breakfast, you all gather into the living room for the main event. Toji takes up his usual spot in the corner on the sofa, and Tsumiki immediately gets up to join him on his lap, purring loud enough for everyone to hear.

“She really likes you, ya know,” you say to him while handing the kids some presents.

Tsumiki trills when he scratches the top of her head. “More than you?” he teases with a grin to match.

“Oh please, let’s not go that far.” You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m practically her mother, she’ll always be my little girl.”

“Whatever you say Ma, but this” ─ Toji points a finger down at your cat ─ “is pretty convincin’ to me,” he chuckles.

There’s hardly a second in between for you to register the new nickname before the kids are gasping at their presents.

“You got me a camera!?” Mai squeals with joy, turning the box over onto all its sides to see. You had gifted her a polaroid in purple ─ her favorite color ─ figuring she’d enjoy it for all her modeling and acting dreams.

Maki took some more thought before you eventually settled on a skateboard. Another commonality between her and Toji is their shared love for athletics, so rather than getting her a ball or something she’d need a whole setup for, she can take this one on the go wherever.

You found one that features a red dragon painted across the deck with clouds surrounding the beast. The grip tape has some scales cut out to match the aesthetic, with black wheels to tie it all in. The overall style is something straight out of Hokusai’s famed works.

She holds the board up to the light to get a better look, and a toothy smile appears on her face. “Awesome…” she mutters.

For Megumi, you got him new games for his equally new console. All of which feature animals one way or another, with titles such as Okami or World of Zoo. Anything to fuel his passion for animals.

You won’t lie, none of these gifts were cheap and you’ll be begging Kento for more work soon but seeing the kids without a care in the world make it worth every penny.

Near the end of all the presents, you pull out the last gift tucked neatly back behind the tree. It’s wrapped in the same paper as all the rest ��� cats and dogs with Santa hats and other festive items ─ but there’s no name written anywhere.

“Who’s this for?” you ask Toji, raising the box up for him to see. Megumi’s eyes go wide as if he just remembered something.

“It’s for you,” he starts, “And before you say anything, Megs helped me pick it out.” Toji knew without guessing you were already planning your protest in your head. You can’t say refuse now if Megumi has some involvement.

You may have grown to not expect gifts or the like, but it certainly feels nice when you do receive something for once; that someone cares enough to bother getting you something.

“Did you now?” you muse, looking to the boy now appearing shy after being called out by his father.

You undo the glittery bow and the wrapping paper that follows. Beneath it is a velvet lined box containing a necklace in your go-to metal. It’s the perfect length, dainty as well ─ fashioned with numerous dangling stars that catch the light like a prism would.

“This is beautiful, guys… seriously, thank you both.” Your voice cracks slightly, and you think you may just start crying.

Megumi must’ve noticed, because he gets right up and stands in front of you. “Do you like it?” He’s scared you’ll say no because why else would your eyes be glossed over?

“Like it? Sweetie, I love it!” You pull him into a tight hug. Megumi cranes his neck around like an owl to Toji who’s beaming at him with a look of pride.

The necklace is a gift from them to you, a reminder of their presence in your life. You can look up at the night sky all you want, but now you know there are stars down here if you only look to your side.

“Come here, I’ll put it on you.” Toji beckons you with the curl of his finger.

You stand up from your spot on the floor, ruffling Megumi’s hair on your way to Toji’s side. You hold your hair up and off to the side for him, and even though you know it’s coming, you can’t help but react to his touch.

His fingers glide around your throat causing a sharp intake of air. He clasps the metal right over a sweet spot that ignites goosebumps down your neck. His warm breath fans your nape, sending that heat straight to your core.

“Turn around, let’s see.”

You’re even closer to Toji than you expected, causing your heartbeat to quicken like reindeer dancing on the rooftop.

His eyes drift from your necklace ─ that piece of him to you ─ and up to your still glistening eyes that seem to twinkle with emotion. When they move to settle back down, they stop over your lips. You don’t even realize you’ve parted them.

A silent invitation that expresses your burning desire.

You look to his and it’s as if you’re now bound by a force similar to gravity, like binary stars in the shape of hearts. All you can do is let yourself be pulled in.

“Snow!” Megumi’s shout interrupts the near stellar collision. He comes bounding between you both, ignorant to what just interrupted.

You and Toji separate, a feeling of embarrassment washing over you.

“Can we play outside, please?” Megumi asks with the best puppy dog eyes he’s able to muster.

And how can you say no to that?

Toji brings a hand up to his neck and exhales. “Only if you bundle up, I don’t need sick kids running around.”

All they needed to hear were the first few words before they’re off to the front door in a hurry. Toji gets up to follow, sparing a glance over his shoulder. “You coming?”

You feel his gaze all over yourself, leaving fire in its wake. You’re avoiding his face, too caught up in your own world.

You almost kissed.

It would’ve been your first real kiss with someone you admire too. You can’t help but feel disappointed.

Toji clears his throat to get your attention again.

“Oh ─ yeah, I’ll go and get ready now!” you tell him, and he makes an amused snort before leaving.

Looking around in his absence, you already miss the noise. It blurs any thoughts you might have in your mind, keeping you grounded in yourself. You’re going to be kept busy either way by the mess of things; torn paper all over the floor, dishes to clean… but that’s a task for later.

When was the last time you played in the snow without a care?

It’s Christmas. Have some fun.

You do still dump any trash Tsumiki could get into. No need for any more vet visits.

Toji and the kids are all back at your door minutes later, their eagerness as evident as rainbows cutting across blue skies with the promise of gold. A rare sight in the wintery season.

But there’s one more gift before you all head out into the cold.

“Do you mind closing your eyes for one second?” Your question posed towards Toji.

He quirks his brow but still does as you ask. “What’s this about?”

“You’ll see,” you reply, shifting your hands to give him his gift. “Alright, you can open them now.”

Toji could feel you place something around his neck, tying it into place with a gentle touch. He lifts his hands up to inspect, looking down at the simple, yet quality wool scarf.

It holds no defining pattern in the threading, instead presenting a solid shade of green. The hue is close to what you’d see on forest leaves bathed in shadows under the moon. Like two pools of jade, with onyx in the center.

His eyes.

“Can’t have you catching a cold either out there,” you chuckle, admittedly with a nervous undertone.

Shopping for kids is easy when the possibilities are seemingly endless as they grow in life. For adults, it’s all about finding smaller, more meaningful gifts they can appreciate day-to-day.

And he loves yours.

You know this when Toji’s arms wrap around your body, bringing you flush against his chest. His heartbeat throbs like yours did earlier ─ hooves pounding on snowy tiles. You close your eyes to embrace the feeling of his warmth. If this took place outside, you’d surely find a perfect circle melted in the snow around your shared forms.

“Thank you,” he says; simple, like the scarf, but the thought behind both express more than what can be made into words.

It’s all you need.

The end of the rainbow may as well be at your feet.

Several more snow days follow.

Several more days of peace beneath skies painted in violet and amber. The golden hues of the setting sun bring the snow alive ─ like fire encased by an endless glacier as far as the eye can see.

Toji wears the scarf every time he goes outside, be it work or play. Exhaustion weighs heavier on his features as the days go on, though he refuses to let it show.

With Megumi and the twins around, you eventually find out he’s been sleeping on the couch so the three can share the bed all night. It is a one-bedroom apartment after all.

It wasn’t so much a problem when Megumi was away in school during the times Toji needed to sleep, but Megumi being home each day now on holiday and Toji having to care for two more on top is taking its toll.

He would never vocalize this discomfort, not wanting to bring worry to the kids. It only makes you want help him more to lighten the burden off his shoulders.

It’s what friends do; you tell him whenever he tries to shy away and claim he’s fine. It’s exactly what you would do too if you were in his place.

A voice in your mind tells you that it’s playing house at best, the desire for something deeper. It’s a relishing feeling to be relied on by your crush, and you crave the comfort it brings.

“Aren’t you up early?” Toji says in lieu of a greeting. It’s another day of you offering your free time. The only difference is that today is a special day.

His special day.

“Kids are still sleeping, but you’re welcome to hang out,” he says with a gruff voice, yawning after.

You think sleep is a nice look for him, if only under better circumstances.

“I can watch them for you if you have any plans today,” you tell him.

Be it friends or a special someone, none of it matters at the end of the day if you can still be something to him.

Something is better than nothing, despite the close call of a kiss.

It doesn’t feel real that it almost happened. You hope it wasn’t a visage crafted through heart-shaped eyes, but insecurities are ever present in your mind.

Either way, Toji chose to stay here with you.

He could’ve spent his day catching up on his sleep while you handled everything, but instead he followed you around like a stray cat would. Though in the case of Toji, a panther makes for a better comparison.

Large, fierce, and skilled in many ways but with a soft spot at their core others tend to forget.

Take tigers for example. If a mother were to pass away early, a cub’s father will step in to raise them. Some do it from afar, offering silent protection from harm, or leading their young to meals. In some cases, they remain glued at the hip, spending day and night till their cub is of age.

You wonder if raven-haired jaguars might act the same, but isn’t it obvious?

As tired as he was, he never let it get in the way. The five of you spent some time playing outside, where Toji became a one-man army in a snowball fight against you and the kids. With a smirk plastered on his face, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Victory was a futile effort, but the kids tried again and again until their energy drained away. Toji let them win in the end, and they were quick happy to bury him in snowballs after. Luckily, they all chose to go to bed early after dinner, giving you and Toji some time for yourself before his next shift.

What better time to celebrate?

You crept towards the sofa with a cupcake in hand. You thought a sheet cake might’ve been too much, so you went with a more simple treat. With Toji being a fan of chocolate flavors, you decided to make one special with chocolate for the base, icing, and even some frozen bark wedged on top around the solely lit green candle at the center.

“Happy Birthday, Toji.”

Your necklace dances when you come into view, the amber reflections of the flames catching his eye. It’s almost enough for him to forget that he’s the star of this show when a galaxy stands before him.

His silence has you questioning whether you misjudged his preferences. “If you don’t like the flavor, I’ve made plenty more so please–“

“It’s perfect,” he says, hands engulfing your own to accept the offering. You find it hard to pull away, his warmth easily outshining the candle.

You sit at his side, and with one quick huff, the flame is gone.

“Did you even make a wish?” you tease.

“Don’t need to,” he says, mirth flickering across his features. His eyes whisper a thousand unspoken words.

Toji barely can get a bite out of the cupcake before you’re pushing a present towards him to take. “What’s this?” he asks, placing the dessert down.

You hand him a sleek black box, topped with a solid green bow. “Open it and see.”

With only nine days to prep for his birthday, finding something last minute proved to be a challenge. It was one you were more than willing to undergo just to see him smile.

The initial curiosity turns to surprise, then crests into a soft look of joy. Gentle; genuine.

The box contains a silver chain leading down to a one-of-a-kind piece of malachite encircled by the same sterling metal. A pool of green with midnight flecks. Leaves loved by moonlight.

“Do you like it?” Worry laces your words as you wait for his approval.

He holds the box out for you to take. “Put it on for me and let’s see.”

You free the chain, bringing it up around his neck. The stone has some weight to it ─ a reminder of its presence and meaning as it hangs close to his heart.

“Well?” Toji turns to face you again, one eyebrow raised in anticipation.

“It’s perfect,” you say, mimicking his words. Simple, but only at its surface.

“I couldn’t agree more.” He smiles.

Your eyes raise from the gem to that smile. There’s no arrogance or amusement, only a gentle tug of adoration. The tethers of an unseen force pull at you again.

Golden hues spill into the room ─ more vibrant than before ─ but easily eclipsed by his body before you.

It’s perfect, for what other light could you possibly desire? Violet shadows are as much his color as the greenery of trees on a midnight walk. If you have him by your side, you’ll never lose your way in the dark.

“Can I?” he asks quietly, one hand smoothing along your jaw. You find yourself leaning his touch, nodding against his palm.

Toji moves with confidence ─ hunger even, when his lips connect with yours. A stellar collision, with no others stars to stop its fate.

Sweetness coats his lips from the residual chocolate, his taste better than any dessert. It ignites a sensation deep in your body that leaves you craving more. An insatiable thirst, and all you needed was one to get you hooked.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but lean forward to follow, missing that lifeline of affection already. Toji’s laugh rumbles deeply and thick, like he’s fresh out of bed.

He kisses you again, forcing you backwards until his weight becomes a blanket over you. The burning feeling from before only grows stronger, like wildfire in need of relief but all you truly want is equivalent to fuel.

“Toji–“

His head falls deeply into the side of your neck, and you feel him relax. From the gentle breaths against your skin, you realize that he’s fallen asleep.

A kiss from Prince Charming may wake a sleeping princess, but from you to your knight in shining armor, it offers peace and serenity.

You let him stay like this. A sense of pride filling you that Toji was comfortable enough in the first place to let himself be so vulnerable with you.

Your hand moves through his hair lovingly, in a way one would pet a cat. He sighs in his sleep, arms coiling in a near possessive manner. You think maybe you aren’t alone with your desire for affection.

And before you know it, you’re following after him.

For the first time in countless nights, your thoughts are quiet as could be, silenced by the presence and warmth that clings you better than any blanket could.

When you come to next, it’s only you who remains.

Toji’s nowhere to be seen, his body replaced by a thick throw. It’s heavy ─ securing, but at the same time, it isn’t him.

One of his pillows now props your head up, providing you his scent at the very least. It flows around you in a way that makes you think he hasn’t even left. The smell is comforting, alluring, and all Toji.

On the table next to you is a note weighed down with one green candle, the letter containing an apology for leaving so soon. It’s too bad he had work otherwise he’d still be here, but you’re glad you got to spend this time with him.

Toji may not care for his birthday, deeming it just another day on the calendar of life, but this year was different.

You made certain of that.

☆ Notes: read a tojikuna fic the other day called “in lieu of” (which I highly recommend btw) and was inspired to try and more metaphors to my work. Idk how good they came out cause honestly I question whether they actually make sense or if I’m just talking out of my ass. Dialogue is hard enough as if for me being autistic wondering if it’s stuff others would say or just me/cringe/lacking/etc. That aside, I hope you guys enjoyed this peaceful chapter cause things are gonna ramp up soon :)

Please don’t be afraid to comment or shoot me an ask about anything really, I love to yap!!! it helps keep me going especially when I have thoughts about quitting whenever I’m feeling insecure about my writing