#i remember coming in on the weekends to make sure they were fed and their tank was cleaned

[sparklykaminarii]

HIIIIIIII!!! I was wondering if you could do Aizawa x student!reader?? Ik you don't normally write anything but JJK but i rlly like ur writing and would js love to see you make this. 💐TYSM BABESSS ^^

DARLING CAN I BE YOUR FAVORITE?

[•~teacher!aizawa x student!reader SMUT !! (COLLEGE AU!)~•]

[•~synopsis: aw man you failed another test, guess you'll have to fuck your hot teacher.~•]

[•~a/n: i tried my best anon !! js for you, and keep sending in request ppl :D ~•]

"heeey eraser!!" present mic squeals, rushing into the classroom. aizawa looks back at the yellow haired male, obviously fed up with all his bullshit. "whatcha doin?-" eraser mic asks, dragging a chair next to aizawa, not noticing the students were taking a test.

"grading papers"aizawa replies, not paying any attention to the yellow haired individual who was interrupting his class.. present mic looks across the room, admiring all the students and just taking on the sight of the future generation of heroes. "shouldn't you be-" aizawa begins, soon cut off by present mics loud and obnoxious voice "Ooo, this class looks promising shouta, whose ya favorite?"

aizawa rolls his eyes, "don't have any. I don't like picking favorites." he says firmly. present mic is slightly baffled at his response, "really? if I could pick a favorite, I think id pick that red haired kid- actually no wait maybe the green haired one but-" present mic continues to babble on and on to aizawa. who was very obviously tuning him out.

as the bell rings, you watch all the other kids leave the classroom. all giggling and chattering about their plans for the weekend. they all seemed so busy in their conversations, so busy that they didn't notice you were staying back, which was perfect.

as soon as the last person exits the room you walk over towards aizawa. a sly smirk creeping up on your lips. "you said you needed to talk to me?" aizawa places the stack of papers he was grading down, on the table, he leans back in his chair. eyes fixed on you and your figure. "you failed another test, y/n." he says coldly, "and I hope you remember our little deal, hm?" he asks, tapping on his desk, signaling you to come sit.

"how could I forget..." you mumble sitting down on the table, watching as the black haired man approaches you. he was emotionless and rough looking. but you knew deep down he was just as excited for this as you were.

he stands in front of you, in between your legs, and he lifts your chin up with his hands. he stares down into your eyes, "bet you failed on purpose too... didn't you? fucking slut" he mumbles before crashing his lips on yours, you feed back into the kiss, the intensity and passion increasing. aizawa's hands sneakily begin to grope your tits through the fabric of your uniform, caressing them with his rough hands. making you let out breathy moans.

aizawa continues to sloppily kiss you as he begins to unbutton your top, your moans only making his cock harder. you could feel his bulge against your thighs. aizawa pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you with hazy eyes, he places your uniform top on his chair, leaving you in your bra.

he gives your breasts a tight squeeze, admiring the way they bounced. you let out a sharp cry from the sensation. "so pretty f'me aren't you sweetheart?" he coos, hands reaching to your bra's clasp, quickly unclasping it. he throws your bra across the room and leans you back slowly, making sure not to hurt you.

as you lay back down you can feel aizawa playing with your nipples, his finger grazing the surface. he watched as you would squirm more and more whenever he went harsher. aizawa then places one of them in his mouth, tongue swirling all over your nipple. you gasp at the sensation and place a hand in his hair. you can feel the wet patch in your panties grow as he continues to play with you.

his hand reaches towards your other nipple, making sure to give it attention too. he squeezes it lightly as he sucks on your other tit. you let out soft moans as you feel the sensations overtake you. "thought you didn't like pickin favorites?" you mutter, voice shaky and hoarse. aizawa responds by squeezing your nipple harshly, a muffled mumble leaving his lips which sounded like a "shut up..."

soon enough aizawa also gets your skirt off, leaving you in your panties. he lifts both of you legs onto his shoulders, pressing his bulge against the wet patch on your panties. you let out a mewl at the feeling of his clothed cock pushed up on you. "see what ya do to me pretty girl? fuck- I could do this all day..." he groans, grinding against the wetness seeping through your panties.

aizawa hastily unbuckles his belt, and slides his pants and boxers off. freeing his long dick. a soft sigh leaves your lips at the sight. you had fucked aizawa a couple times before but still, his long shaft always surprised him and made you crave him even more. "look at m'pretty girl, so mesmerized by my cock, it's okay sweetheart you'll get it soon..." he pushes your panties to the side, aligning himself with your hole.

"c'mon sweetheart y'know what you gotta do now..." he hums, tucking hair behind your ears. "aizawa... pleaseee" you whine, hands reaching for his hips. aizawa slaps your clit, making you jolt back "y'know damn well that isn't good enough, beg for it like the dirty bitch you are." he demands sharply.

"p-please daddy, need your cock so badly..." you mewl, you didn't care how stupid you sounded, you had one thing on your mind right now. and you needed him badly. aizawa smirks slyly and whispers "anything for my girl..." and he pushes his cock in. you both let out content moans and groans as you feel each other.

he lets you adjust to his size before ramming himself in and out of you, your slick coating his cock fully. "so fuckin wet f'me, baby..." he groans, hands gripping on your hips. his pace was so quick and rough, just the way you liked it. his hips bucked into you without any mercy.

"you're so slutty for this, fuckin ya teacher just to raise your grades? dirtyass slut." he mocks, pushing your thighs closer to your chest, his shaft abusing your cunt even deeper now. you let out sobs and cries from all the pressure, the feeling of his leaky tip constantly hitting your cervix. you were in pure bliss.

aizawa admires the sweet noises, both your mouth and cunt makes. he could feel the way your walls would tighten around him with each thrust he gave, signaling you were close. he looks back up at your face, you looked so dazy and lost. babbling about how good you felt, so cock drunk you couldn't even speak correctly. aizawa chuckles at the state you were beneath him. "we just started pretty girl, don't tell me yer already too fucked out-" he teased.

his calloused fingers start trailing down to your clit, rubbing soft circles on it, as aizawa begins to feel his own orgasm creeping up on him. the pressure on your clit makes you yelp out with pleasure, the familiar knot in your stomach tightening at a hasty pace.

your walls sucked in his cock snuggly, aizawa knew you were on the brink of your orgasm. "c'mon baby, tell me who fucks you the best..." he grunts, his voice hoarse and raspy. his words simply didn't register in your brain, all you could focus on was the release that was building up in you. aizawa slaps your clit again, his voice harsh and demanding "answer m'fuckin question slut. who fuck you the best?"

you jolt up at his words, "y-you do daddy!! you do!!" you mewl, a sob leaving your lips as you cry out from the harsh orgasm you just endured. aizawa felt your liquid wash all over his shaft, which was enough to bring him to the brink of an orgasm. he pulls out of you quickly. and begins jerking himself off quickly, hot strings of semen decorating your stomach. you both let out heavy pants of satisfaction. "made such a big mess pretty girl, let's clean up okay?" he affirms, helping you back up.

[gingerteawrites]

CARE - Where Zhongli takes care of sick reader

A/N: I've been feeling pretty unwell these past few days, so of course I had to make it a fictional character's problem. I'm also trying to post more often, but finals season is kicking my butt. I'm SO looking forward to winter break.

Content: Zhongli x reader, comfort, fluff.

Banner by: @anitalenia

Zhongli first realized something was off when the smell of his delicious breakfast and tea did not lure you into the kitchen like it usually did on Saturday mornings. After plating the food, he walked into your shared bedroom, quietly pushing the door open. The blinds were still shut, but small rays stubbornly filtered through, casting light over a shapeless form under the sheets.

"My love?" he called out, his deep voice coming as a soft rumble. With you not responding, he moved to sit on his side of the bed, reaching over to place a hand where he estimated your waist was. "Do you want breakfast?"

Your response was a grumble, reluctantly pulling your head out of the shelter of the duvet. He placed a hand on your cheek, ready to coax you out of bed, but his brows furrowed at the uncomfortable warmth radiating from your skin.

"You're burning, love," he moved his hand to your forehead, then down your neck to confirm the sensation. You sighed softly, his cool hands offering slight relief over the large expanse of skin they covered.

"My head hurts..." were the first words you managed to mumble, eyes closing again.

Zhongli, who spent the rest of the weekend nursing you back to health. His sweet words and gentle hands were all he needed to persuade you to let him help, even after your weak protests of being potentially contagious.

Helping you wash up. Making sure you were hydrated. Feeding you lotus and egg soup and even requesting advice from Baizhu. He was as diligent as ever, pushing his worries aside. And instead taking action to ensure you were well.

"Another bite, sweetheart, okay? You need your strength back," He held the spoon up to your lips, voice as soft as ever as he fed you a concoction the doctor recommended.

You felt bad for being so difficult, cursing your body for its weakness and susceptibility to microbes. But Zhongli was quick to dissipate these noxious thoughts, kissing your cheeks with an overwhelming tenderness.

"You can never be a burden to me, Y/N. In sickness and in health, remember? Taking care of you is just another declaration of my love for you." His amber eyes bore into yours. "So let me, okay?"

He had vowed to love you regardless of circumstances, and was firmly committed to upholding that promise. Love was, after all, the most powerful of contracts.

Since his banner is currently on re-run I have been thinking a lot about Zhongli. Hope you enjoyed!

Comments are reblogs are much appreciated(❁´◡`❁)

[leebrontide]

I’m so curious about your wife’s novella that could have been an opera, and in no small part because opera isn’t exactly center stage in modern popular entertainment, like next to stage musicals, etc. as far as I can tell. Do you mind my asking what made you think of encouraging your wife in the direction of an opera adaption? Is the novella about an opera singer, or is there some other aspect…?

Oh yeah, it's been ages since I talked about this so people won't remember it!

Ok, so like 15ish years ago, before I got into prose, I actually drew a webcomic, and was pretty tied in to a section of the queer local comic community in the twin cities, which at least at the time was a great but unlauded place to be a comic artist or writer. But everybody talked about how Portland was THEEE place for comics, and it made me grumpy.

And one day, on twitter, I saw that some comic artists in Portland had got to go to the final dress rehearsal of an opera, to make sketches to post online as a sort of cross-promotional thing. My grudge was activated.

With my wife out of town for the weekend I was bored and restless and lacking in distractions, so I wrote up a pitch to the MN opera asking for myself and all my comics drawing friends to come do the same- we get a little legit art cred, they get a little popular media credit. I figured they wanted to draw in a younger crowd.

And by the time my wife got home I'd organized a season-long free final dress rehearsal pass for not only myself but like 10 other comics people. The opera company even fed us fancy snacks and let us talk to people associated with the show.

This arrangement spiraled, as my schemes often do, and ended up lasting for a decade. I met some good friends there. It finally ended at an intersection of new-director-of-marketing and covid.

So as a result I got to see some spectacular old and brand new operas, and met some composers. I saw never before seen opera adaptations of The Shining, and also the Christmas Truce of WWI, and the 1919 Black Sox baseball scandal, the night before their debuts.

And my wife happened to have written a novella that would organize itself fantastically into a series of mostly arias with some interstitial bits, that could be performed cheaply because of the small cast and simple setting, and everybody could have an actually good part. The story itself had nothing to do with opera but was a meditation of suicidality, grief, and what it means to human beings to want things. Which like, classic fancy opera stuff.

It was about an old man whose husband died, leaving him with a used book shop they were going to spend their retirement life running, who notices strange things going on in the neighborhood, and goes to investigate the mystery. He finds a trail of people who all once wanted something desperately, who suddenly just...stopped wanting that, and explores the ways that unfolded in their lives. Eventually this leads him to the caretaker of the apartment complex across the street- a demon who feeds off want, and in doing so gets whatever desire he consumed. Each person who wanted is their own little story, all narrated by the old man, whose setting out what he's uncovered before he goes to confront the demon, pretty sure that in his own heart, all he's waiting for is his own death. It's a good story.

[pixeldistractions]

Sebastian wasn’t a big fan of Thanksgiving, and neither was Colette, but it stood that most other people in the country were. It would be challenging to find a suitable babysitter two days before a major holiday. 

“There’s really nobody else to call,” Felix reasoned. “She’s not that bad. It’s not like she fed us poison or anything.” 

“Please, please,” the boys begged in unison. 

Even though Colette would be quite happy to never see Gabby Roseland in her home again, the boys had a point, the clever little weasels. They were cut from her own DNA and they weren’t wrong. 

So she called Gabby. 

“Well,” Gabby said. “It is two days before Thanksgiving. I’m technically already on my holiday weekend. I’d be missing valuable rest time, and don’t you know eleventh grade is murder? I’ll need time-and-a-half rates, and we’ll eat Chinese delivery instead of pizza.”

Goddamn, that girl. But, at the same time, Colette respected her hustle. 

“Fine, can you be here at six?”

Dating was going horribly, in Colette’s opinion—make no mistake about that—but Colette did enjoy having a good reason to dress up. She had a whole closet full of pretty things that had hardly seen the light of day or night over the past ten years. If she and Jordan ever attempted to go out somewhere together, which may have happened once or twice in their time, it wouldn’t have been the kind of place to require a gown and heels. 

Maybe she needed to be with the kind of man who wanted to take her to an art gallery or an opera or a charity ball.

Or maybe Sebastian’s wife would see them out together tonight and claw her eyes out, and nobody would ever want to look at her ruined face again.

Damn. Tonight, Colette’s own claws were unmanicured and stubby. 

Sometimes Colette felt a great humbling coming for her soul. Yes, of course she had a soul. It was a dark and shriveled little thing, buried somewhere in her chest, but it was there. All this angst and turmoil in her life fed upon itself, growing itself like a tumor, preparing itself for some grave moment in her near future when it would all explode in her face, violently. And when that moment came for her, she would have stubby nails. She just knew it. 

The boys came up to her room in the moments before Gabby was due to arrive. 

“I didn’t know you had so many dresses,” Felix said. “Is your friend your boyfriend like dad’s friend is his girlfriend?” 

“No,” Colette scoffed. “Definitely not. Definitely not like that.” 

“Good,” he added.

Good? Colette let that tiny sentiment make her feel validated.

Well, it was fine enough to indulge herself for a night, but she couldn’t imagine bringing a whole person into their lives like their father had felt compelled to do. She wasn’t convinced he had the boys’ best interests in mind. 

“I just want you both to remember that the people who are supposed to have your back won’t always be reliable. It’s not nice when that happens, but it does happen, and sometimes you’ll need to look out for yourselves.” 

“Because Gabby?” 

“Sure, because Gabby.” 

Colette didn’t know if she was talking about Gabby, who seemed to find it a game to spoil their last remaining drops of innocence; or their father, who was five states away with his new girlfriend because he wanted to be; or their grandmother, who wanted to shower them with ten years of backdated attention only to surely take it all away. Or, probably, all of the above.

But not me, she wanted to add. Wanted to, but she stopped short. She would never disappoint these boys. Never! But maybe sometimes you just don’t know what humbling your life will deliver and how it will unfold. You can’t promise what you don't know.

Then their doorbell rang, and it was time. They all went downstairs to greet their trusty babysitter and lay out the rules for the night. Colette had provided them with a charming assortment of age-appropriate board games and puzzles.

Gabby rolled her eyes. "I mean, buckets of lame. But we’ll play them, if you want."

And the boys snickered to each other delightfully.

And Colette knew for sure she meant Gabby in that lecture to the boys upstairs. Definitely watch out for Gabby.

— boxes and squares #5.3: hindsight is a bitch, part 9/11

next -> // 5.3 start // index

[yuri-is-online]

Bitch the Pot (Trey Clover x Reader)

Trey's birthday is coming up and you really want to buy him a present.

But what if he doesn't want it? What if he just thinks of your efforts as annoying, or even worse what if he sees right through you and makes things awkward. What if he stashes things away and makes fun of them later, years later when he barely remembers your name.

What if he's secretly looking forward to your presence and hasn't even considered he'd be lucky enough to get a gift. What if... what if...

notes: they/them used for Yuu, we're going to hurt comfort town choo choo mother fuckers, I am using the Hitchhiking Ghost names for the Ramshackle Ghosts because I am unoriginal, the more I think about Trey the more I realize Idia is right, Trey's a skethcy mfer and yeah that's hot. If you like this check out my masterlist for more fic.

You didn't want to indulge Trey's teeth thing.

Sure it will make him happy, smooth over all your little insecurities pricking at your heart as you poke through the second hand store for what you had thought would be a really cute idea on your way here but now weren't so sure about. Besides you are pretty sure that everyone else is going to buy him a bundle of floss and call it a day, well other than Rook who has been waxing poetic about how he had "the most fitting cap for the Rose Chevalier" so all the more reason to put a little less of a personal interest into your gifting and more of a thoughtful touch.

As thoughtful as you could afford anyway. You aren't even sure Trey likes these sorts of things, though that worry is sort of drowned by how surprised you are to find nice looking china in Crane Port's equivalent of a Good Will. There is a nice selection of tea cups, mismatched saucer plates, and the odd pot sat all by its lonesome all with neatly written prices on stickers you don't look forward to scrubbing off.

Afternoon Tea Special~ Pick one Pot, 4 cups w/ saucers, creamer, and sugar bowl: all for just 25 T!

Cute, and not a bad idea you supposed even if it did feel a bit overkill. Your original intention had just been to pick up a sugar bowl and maybe one cup, something for him to put candies in that had a lid so no flies could get at his violets. But it really would be a shame to pass up such a nice deal and hey, if Trey didn't like it he could just ditch it with the Heartslabyul kitchenware once he graduated and never speak to you again.

"Oh this is such a cute little selection!" The lady at the counter's eyes practically sparkle as she carefully wraps up your choices in tissue paper.

"It's a birthday gift." You can't help but mumble and the sparkle flutters out to her entire body, ah that's right, this lady always did look a bit bored when you came in. It seems like you have fed her and her knitting circle for the rest of the week.

"Well then this won't to at all." She huffs and stops wrapping up your order and bends under her counter, the tell tale ruffles of paper and boxes sounding oddly comforting as she produces what you think is a hat box and proudly begins to organize the mismatched set and fetches out even more tissue paper. "Must be for someone important with how long you've been eyeing up a sugar bowl." She wiggles her eye brows. You try to keep your focus on said bowl, you didn't realize she'd been watching you but then again you have been coming down here every spare weekend to stare at it. This shop was nice, it had a bunch of cheap clothes and nick knacks that were used sure, but a life saver for someone from a completely different world. If the lady is thankfully not offended by your silence. She simply tacks your receipt to the box and sends you off with a wink.

"Thank you for your purchase! Please come back soon!" And tell me all bout it! You swear she says it but you don't hear it, too much blood is thrumming in your ears

The hat box is not out of place among the gifts on the party table, so trey doesn't have an excuse to stare at it even if his eyes keep coming back to it. It's lavender, plain save for the cream bow he hopes Yuu tied around it, and had been decently heavy when he picked it up before Cater scolded him about playing favorites.

"Be a good Senior and eat the cookies we made for you until Riddle brings out the cake." He flicks his nose with a knowing look. "Normal people save the best for last right? I'm sure Yuu-yuu will be fine with waiting, since they can barely look at you today~" And of course like a fool he whips his head to look, startling them and proving Cater's point as they immediately scurry back to Ace and Deuce.

"Screw you." He's only half joking but Cater's fully laughing and probably already took a picture. "I'm just worried they felt like they needed to bring a gift I would have been happy just to-"

"No you wouldn't have." For someone who likes lying to himself Cater really doesn't seemed thrilled with his choice to gaslight himself. "You would have spent the rest of the night thinking 'ooooh it'd be really nice if I got something from Yuu, I wonder if they hate meeee, I should make sure they think I don't care about helping them some more so they leave me alone and I don't have to think about how nice it would be to-'"

"Cater!" Trey has never been so grateful to hear Riddle yell about anything in his life. "Could you please help me with the cake? I was going to ask Yuu but they had to go back to Ramshackle."

"Yuu's back at Ramshackle?" Trey reaches to adjust his glasses, trying to ground himself.

"Yes, they said they were feeling sick and-" That's all Trey registers, though he hears the rest "went back to lie down, Grim insisted on staying to make sure the food didn't get them sick." It's his party, he can't just leave that would be an extreme violation of the rules but Cater's earlier accusation comes back to him. Make them think I won't care about them. It's not intentional, he thinks it's obvious he always will but then again-

"Fifteen minutes." Cater whispers under his breath.

"Thirty."

"You're delusional." Still Cater doesn't sound mad. "Eighteen."

"Twenty." He's already snatched up the hat box and making his way towards the doors.

~~~~

"Awww Yuu." Phineas would pat your head if he could. "I'm sure it's not that bad, you're just overthinking things."

"Yeah I think anyone would be happy to get a gift from you!" Gus tries, all three ghosts perking up slightly when you smile just a bit at his encouragement. "And if not then well..."

"I know I'm just being dramatic but I couldn't stand waiting anymore." You don't mention how Ace and Deuce had been teasing you, not wanting to relive the absolute embarrassment of having been caught staring at their Vice-Warden one too many times for dots to remain unconnected. "I asked Grim to bring back some cake but I don't know if he'll remember."

"Oooh let's take bets on it!" Ezra cheers and a familiar, unexpected laugh interrupts sending the ghosts scattering and leaving you at the mercy of a familiar face.

"I think it's safe to say that would be a pretty obvious bet." Trey sets the hat box on your coffee table, folding his strong arms and firmly sticking a lump in your throat. "You should have bet on me."

"Returning your gift is not bringing me something." You huff and Trey has the decency to look a bit awkward.

"I'm not here to return it, there's rules to gifts you know." Oh no. "For example, on our birthdays, the Queen of Hearts says we get to ask for anything we want." He finally moves, unfortunately for you he's decided to use his height to his advantage and lean over the table to crowd you back into the couch. "And I spent a long time thinking about what I should ask for from you."

"Um- I well-" You're looking everywhere but him now, as if you were before. "I did get you a gift though?" He laughs.

"And you ran away before I could thank you." Trey begins to unwrap the ribbons, slowly as if he's waiting for you to look at him but not wanting to deny his curiosity any longer. "But that doesn't change the rules. Sorry, I didn't make them."

The sugar bowl is the first piece he finds, the shop lady has to have set it on top on purpose. His eyebrows raise, not in disappointment you think, curiosity hopefully as he slowly opens the rest of them.

"Sorry." You immediately say to fill the space out of habit, and Trey stops his examination to look up at you.

"What for?" He picks up the sugar bowl, just as amused as you with the clover flowers patterned across it in a nice twist on his name and half the accessories he owns. "Don't tell me you want this stuff back, its mine now."

"No! I'm glad you like," you cringe at the question in your tone and cower at the smirk on Trey's face "I mean I hope you like it."

"A hand picked tea set from the Ramshackle Prefect? It's perfect. Especially for a birthday gift for me." He carefully wraps up the cups and their saucers, silence once again falling over the room as you wonder why he hasn't called you out on your lie, the self doubt suggesting he hadn't noticed. "I meant what I said earlier you know."

"What, about making demands of me?" You say.

"Hey chill I only sort of meant it like that." He doesn't even bother trying to hide his amusement. "I mean betting on me. I know it might sound strange to hear me say, but I do have things I think are worth extra effort. And if I have to put in a lot of it to get you to understand that I am glad you are in my life, then I'll just have to do that." So he did know you weren't sick, and was just dancing around the subject to be polite as usual.

"Happy birthday Trey." Because what else are you supposed to say, and he tries his best to not let his disappointment show as he takes his opened gift back to the rose garden. "I'm- I hope you have a nice time at your party."

He pauses at the threshold of your dorm, the wicked smile returning. "I think I know what I want to ask you to do."

"Oh no." You did not mean to say that out loud.

"Mhm. But you are going to have to come back to Heartslabyul to hear it, but after the party, we can use our cups." Our cups he says, as if you had picked out any cups that were supposed to represent you.

He noticed, of course Trey noticed that there was no trace of Yuu in this very you gift. But he could fix that, if you would just give him a chance. And maybe get the calm celebration he actually wants when you do.

[writing-whump]

Sensory overload

☕️-anon wished to see how Hector and Arnie were doing in the meantime, so here we go. A bit of Arnie and Hector plus Olive and some emeto.

Arnie found Hector glaring at his phone on the couch at 7 pm.

"I don't think you can make it bend to your will that way," Arnie said as he rubbed at his eyes.

Since Sunday he had trouble sleeping for some reason, waking up at 5 or 6 am although he was never a morning person. He would turn in bed for two hours, trying to get himself back to sleep, but to no avail. It left him tired and grumpy, cause he wanted to sleep but couldn't.

To compensate, he took frequent naps during the day, like the one he just woke up from. Probably worsening the problem by not being tired enough to sleep through the next morning again.

Hector grumbled something, leaning back with his coffee only for his eyes to return to the phone screen 10 seconds later.

"Who's not answering?"

Hector scoffed, like the name wasn't worth saying out loud. Arnie kept quiet and watched him until his older brother finally caved. "Isaiah."

"Oh? It's so rare for you to message him." Arnie sat down behind the table, still disoriented from sleep.

"Yeah. And just when I do he ignores me. Isn't it weird?"

"I told you he planned some special anniversary thing with Seline on Saturday. That's why we weren't meeting. And then she likely stayed over so he had his hands full over the weekend."

"It's Tuesday," Hector protested.

"It's summer break," Arnie reminded. "More busy with free time with his pack and stuff."

"That's why I..." Hector turned his head away to scowl at the twilight behind the window.

"What was that?" Arnie gave up on the table and went to sit down next to Hector instead, grabbing his untouched coffee from his hand. "Look, you have been super busy during the holidays. You work 25 hours from 24 each day or train or claim some new territories you don't need. Isaiah can't be waiting around for you to make time for him."

Arnie didn't mean himself at all when he said it. He felt more than a little neglected by Hector's constant 'work' excuses. It was his last holiday before starting university and Hector was nowhere to be found.

Hector growled at the cup being taken out of his hand but said nothing. "That's why I wanted...never mind."

Arnie took a sip and grimaced at the taste. No sugar. "Wanted what?"

Hector bared his teeth at no one in particular. "I thought we could plan a trip, okay?! Just the three of us. I'm fed up with the city, so I thought we could do mountain climbing or some shit in nature. And when I suggest it, he doesn't respond. Asshole."

Arnie sighed. "That's really nice, Hex. I'm sure he will like it once he sees it." The younger blond leaned back on the couch. "You know how Isaiah is with the phone detox thing. He likes to take breaks from screens and being available."

"It's the girl," Hector spit out angrily. "Just when we get him back he has to have a girlfriend and a new pack to piss me off."

Arnie rolled his eyes. "We are not losing him to Seline, come on."

"Women always destroy families. Especially brothers. And wolves."

"I'm sorry, how many experiences do you have with that?" Arnie said with a snort.

"Oh, not you too!" Hector crossed his arms on his chest, sliding farther away from him on the couch.

Arnie chuckled. Delaney and Hector's other closest wolves have been bringing it up from time to time now. That Hector should be looking for a partner soon, ideally a witch to cement his position as branch leader.

Everyone knew wolves couldn't rule alone. Stability came from relationships, from functioning compatibility. A leader should have a witch to lead with, to offer to the pack, to bring them all together.

Hector, who had zero interest in dating since Arnie could remember, saw this part as particularly annoying.

"So. You gonna be in this splendid mood for the rest of the evening or we putting on something on Netflix?" Arnie yawned, putting the coffee away.

Hector got up, pacing the living room. "Can't sit still. I'll go for a run."

"You gonna leave me here alone?" Arnie pouted. Free evening and Hector was gonna spend it away again?

"You can join me," Hector said with a knowing smirk.

Arnie groaned. Hector knew he was not very keen on exercise. Being around a superhuman you could never hope to keep up and who would never let you win even knowing this was rather demotivating.

"I thought so. Enjoy wasting your life on useless Netflix shit, I'm leaving."

Arnie huffed and slid down on the sofa into a more comfortable position. Agitated Hector needed the exercise to keep his shadow calm. It was for the best.

...........

If you looked for a piece of quite in a crowded city such as Vienna, school grounds were the safest bet during summer.

It was tiring for wolves to be this surrounded by humans, noise and scenes all the time. Hector felt like the proximity of the buildings got only smaller, squeezing the air out of him.

He needed open space. Nature. Something green with a free view of the sky and the horizon.

Hector ended up back at the university campus at the bench near the ditch he found Matthew passed out not that long ago.

Of course he wanted the campus for himself now. He spend so much of his time there because of the uni that it felt like a base to him.

It was surprisingly lively on the way to the Messe, lights and people coming and going like fireflies drawn to light of the giant exhibition building. None went through the dark space around the bench though, for which Hector was grateful.

Not until his name suddenly echoed through the whole park.

Olive pushed her way through the crowd, which was quite an achievement since she was so small. "Hector! I didn't expect to see you here!"

Hector shrugged. "Just passing by." It always fascinated him how happy Olive seemed whenever she saw him. Her whole face lit up, her smoky gray eyes so big like a doe's.

"Oh." She stopped at the bunch, a cute little pout to her mouth. "So you are not coming to the expo?" When he looked perplexed, she continued, "Illusion and light play exhibition! It's just here for a few weeks."

Ah. That explained the liveliness.

Olive shuffled her feet. She wore a white button-up that hugged her slightly chubby figure, an orange-red necktie, short black hair hidden under a red beanie, and bright red shoes. Hector internally shook his head. Artists had the weirdest tastes.

"Would you...like to come too? I have been there several times, I know the best parts!"

She got excited so easily about the smallest things. If an exhibition or a nice sunset or a collection of crayons could make him so happy...then again, why not? He was not managing to stop thinking about Isaiah's unread messages and he could use a break from thoughts about his duties and goals before they started turning in circles too much.

"Whatever." He got up to his feet, which made Olive almost bounce on her feet.

"You are going to love it!" She actually grabbed his arm, dragging him forward.

Hector blinked at the contact. He wasn't sure how he felt about her being so comfortable touching him. On some level, he suspected she didn't realize he was a wolf or who he was in that world, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her. It was amusing how relaxed she was, how she treated him with such friendliness. Was that normal with girls around guys?

Besides, it made him feel all smug he managed to throw people off his scent as a wolf. Managing this degree of control to not be recognized by the energy and danger wolves emitted or the thickness and reactiveness of their shadows was a point of pride for civilized wolves.

As they got inside and he automatically paid the ridiculously small tickets for them both, he wondered if there wasn't something else. Hector liked who he was. He was proud of who he was, and he never pretended to be anything else.

He was the Executioner's younger brother. He was Vincent Wolfson's son. He was the pack leader's nephew and chosen branch leader in a city as big as Vienna, in the heart of Western and Eastern Europe. Destined to achieve something big, to take over one day. That was his aim—he wasn't secretive about it.

But with Olive he was...just a guy. A stuck-up economy student who could be too blunt at times, but that she, for some reason, found amusing.

The exhibition's theme was the universe. There were seperate rooms projecting different light plays, from infinite space to exploding suns, kinetic installations, Milky ways changing colours, labyrinths of mirrors and light sculuptures.

Olive kept dragging him around, showing him her favorite pieces and projections, flooding him with background information and cool facts he didn't have the vocabulary to understand.

His eyes were beginning to hurt. The constant onslaught of lights that were actually everything but regular, the flashing patterns and ever-changing chaotic rooms...there were no points of reference. And worse, there were so many people—smashed together in an even tighter space, like a city, but smaller.

Hector felt a dull, throbbing headache building behind his temples. It reminded him of the subway, but worse. The lights were too much, the noise was too much. The rooms were spinning and turning, blending together and then spitting him out in confusing directions.

His stomach felt unsettled, waves of queasiness coming and going. Sweat was forming on his upper lip and at the back of his neck.

"O-Olive..." he blinked and screwed his eyes shut, stopping where he was, reaching with his hand in search of something solid. A wall or a door, something that wasn't moving.

"Hector? Hey, wait, what's wrong?"

"G-..." he gulped, his stomach feeling impossibly heavy. Heat went to his face and chest, intensifying the nausea. He gagged, slapping his hand against his mouth. "Get me out-"

He couldn't see in the confusion, the hall was too dark to contrast the effect of the rooms.

"Okay, just a second." A small hand closed around his. Hector squeezed it, maybe too tightly in his disorientation, mouth overflowing with saliva. Damn, he needed to sit down. The claustrophobic feeling was back and he gagged again, splash of acid against his throat.

Her small hand and trace of scent led the way and he let her, the only familiar focus point in the chaos of people and lights hurting his eyes. He crashed against the door on the way and cursed, but the pain of something solid against his side was a relief.

"Just a couple of steps," Olive said, tugging at his arm. "Almost there, I promise."

Hector unglued himself from the door with great difficulty, one more door coming up, when finally, finally he was hit with a wall of fresh air.

He gulped down on the semi-clean night wind greedily, panting to breathe against the nauseating sensation. Almost winning the round, if his stomach didn't cramp that moment and he groaned.

"Okay, okay, let's sit you down, okay?" Both of Olive's hands were wrapped around his arm, using all her weight and strength to steer him to the side of the entrance.

He couldn't tell where the bench was or where they were going. The ground was tilting again, all wrong and his knees buckled, sending him to the ground. Olive didn't let go, going down with him.

"I guess not. Okay, let's stay here, it's fine-"

Hector gagged, the world going deaf for a second and then retched as his dinner came out with a splash against the yellowed grass. At least it wasn't the pavement, that would have splattered more.

Olive was still under his arm, pressed into his side. Her hand snaked around his shoulders, tapping gently. "Feel better?" Her eyes were so wide again, glittering with concern.

"Sorry," he rasped. His body heaved with another retch but he fought it down. "Don't know what-"

"The lights. I'm sorry, I didn't know. The movement and lights can be overwhelming for more sensitive people-"

Hector scoffed, rocking up and down in attempt to catch his bearings. Why was he always throwing up around this girl? "I'm not sensitive."

"I didn't mean it like that," she said sharply, indignant now. "I mean, prone to motion sickness or with senses like shadow wolves. You can't say they are sensitive, can you? But there is even a warning at the entrance that it isn't good for them, cause there is a higher risk of sensory overload."

"Ah. That makes sense, then." He let himself fall back to sit on the ground properly, spreading his hands out. The world was still spinning, but it was slowing down a little.

Olive let go of him, kneeling at his side. "Huh?"

"I'm a shadow wolf too, Olive." Hector focused his eyes on her, wary of her reaction. "You really had no idea."

Her mouth made a little o, looking even more winded than he was. "Oh wow."

Hector cleared his throat. "So what? Scared of me now?" He shifted away. Normally, he enjoyed people being wary of him, of respecting his power, but the idea of Olive being scared of him wasn't appealing at all.

Maybe that was also one of the reasons he was in no hurry to correct her.

A flush crept up her face. "No, I'm not! I'm..."

"I wasn't hiding it, you know?"

"Right. The turf talk, and the people always behind your back. And how sick you felt at the subway...I just didn't...I never spoke to a wolf before. What does that- what does that mean now?" She covered her mouth with both hands. "Does that mean I was breaking all the rules of interaction? I'm sorry, I didn't know-"

Hector chuckled dryly, which turned into a cough and into another small gag. "Damn it."

Olive lifted herself up on her knees, gripping his shoulder. "You still feeling icky?"

Icky? What kind of word was that? He felt comforted by her unconscious touch though. On some level, he still didn't feel like a wolf to her. "Nah, almost good." He closed his eyes for a second, breathing through the sudden heat wave, letting out a loud burp against his hand before letting it fall to his side again.

"What does that mean for me?" Olive asked in a small voice. "You are not going to kidnap me or eat me or something, right?"

Hector had to laugh again. "No. That's not in our rules either." He looked at her hand on his biceps, realizing for the umpteenth time he didn't mind her touch as much as he should have. Not at all. Somehow she had touched herself into his shadow's graces and sense of space. "You don't have to follow any rules. Not with me. I'm too high up to mind," he reassured her.

She ducked her head, and when he tried to straighten up to catch her eye, he lost his balance and flopped right onto his back.

"Oh, so high up," she said with an involuntary giggle, leaning over him. "You okay?" Her hand climbed higher on his arm all the way to the top of his shoulder. "You are so sweaty."

"And dizzy," he admitted with a grimace. His arm shot up to grab onto her hand that was touching him. "A little warning, Olive. Wolves tend to think anything they are touching is theirs. You keep doing that," his eyes rose slowly over her arm to her body, "and I might forget how to let go."

Olive blushed even more, her round cheeks furiously red. Oh, he could get used to that expression.

Part 2

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The past is revealed to Eren, who can only do his best to prove that it doesn’t change his feelings.

— Content warnings: past child abuse/neglect, drug use, unstable family life, grooming, SA, slightly nsfw, mention of unprotected sex.

— Notes: Sorry for the cliffhanger last week lol but you should be used to it haha. Chapter 10 is now here! <3 There’s a lot going on in this chapter so please pay attention to the content warnings before reading. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

then and now

It wasn’t always so bad.

My earliest memory is that of my mom giving me a warm cup of tea and honey when I fell incredibly ill at three years old. I'd eaten something unclean and I was stuck in my parent's bed for a week, feverish, with little appetite and even less strength. If I concentrate enough, I can still hear echoes of my parents sitting at the kitchen table, crunching the numbers from their pooled savings so they could afford a doctor's visit. My mom remained by my side the entire time to make sure the IV drip didn't spontaneously clog, or that I didn't move the hand that was connected to it and started bleeding out into the tube. The doctor said a little bleeding was normal, but she was scared of it happening at all. 

I developed a hatred for cabbage, which is what the doctor recommended to help regain strength without hurting my stomach. My father went out to buy it and my mom fed it to me in soup. She'd make a game out of it, and she promised to take me to the park to play as soon as I got better. I remember my childhood fondly if I focus on that first memory. So, I'm pretty sure anything before that was just as good. 

I didn't know until I was way older that my mother did drugs before she had me. She struggled with addiction at sixteen, which was well into her relationship with my father. The only difference was, he remained clean after my mom told him she was pregnant during their senior year of high school.��

I couldn't understand that I was witnessing her relapse after I started kindergarten. Apparently, being four and a half years old is the cutoff for being worthy of staying sober for. 

That's when everything started spiraling. My mom failed to pick me up from school several times, leaving me to spend hours tucked away in the library, keeping Mrs. Zacharias company while she pretended to rearrange already organized books. My father worked long hours at a factory, some of which had to be punctured like swiss cheese so he could take me home because my mom was nowhere to be found.

By the time she stumbled through the door, she was being brought in by strange men. I never met them, I just knew they were there because the noise would wake me up in the middle of the night and I'd hear my father arguing with my intoxicated mom after thanking them for bringing her home. 

My mom looked sick. As her number one fan, I was worried. She was getting skinnier, she barely ate and she seemed tired all the time yet never got enough sleep to heal the dark circles under her sunken eyes.

The first time I attempted to cook something, I was six. I could easily get by during school days. I had breakfast and lunch there, and sometimes Mrs. Zacharias would give me pretzel sticks if I read a book out loud to her while we waited for my father to come get me. But on weekends, I was on my own. My father was working even on weekends to make ends meet and even when my mom happened to be home, she wasn't truly there.

So, while she was locked inside the bathroom for hours, I went into the kitchen and tried to boil an egg. I couldn't find the small pot we always used, but my pink plastic bowl was on the drying rack from last night after my father fed me dinner. 

I didn't know you weren't supposed to put plates onto a hot stove. The plate cracked and stuck to the burner. I tried to pry it off but I burned my hand. It would take years for the scar to fade. 

When my mom saw what I'd done, she slapped me straight across the face. I was dragged by my hair and locked in the minuscule storage closet as punishment. That was just the first of many times. 

My father would always be the one to let me out when he got back from work late at night, and I'd quietly call him from the inside, scared because I'd urinated myself and he'd probably be just as mad as my mom. But he wasn't. He'd clean me up, scrape the plastic from my now useless pink bowl from the burner, and feed me.

My father grew tired of it. All the money that was meant for food and supplies went directly to dealers, meaning he had to spread himself even thinner. When he found out my mom had ransacked the secret place he kept his savings for the sixth time, he snapped. 

I was twelve by then, so I understood everything that was going on.

They had a huge fight and he stormed into the bedroom to pack his clothes into a bag. But my mom was ballistic. She took a pair of scissors and started cutting anything she could get her hands on into pieces.

I heard a series of slapping and punching before my father passed me by in the living room — no money or clothes on him — and slammed the door shut behind him.

Things got even worse.

My mom would constantly yell that if it hadn't been for me, my father never would've left. She'd tell me I ruined her life and that I was a burden. Had she not gotten pregnant at eighteen, her life would be a whole lot simpler.

But now we didn't have any money, I didn't have a father, and my mom's addiction pushed her into getting a job. Even back then, at twelve years old, I felt guilty because she had to work because of me. 

She started off at a laundromat. Mrs. Zacharias visited our apartment because I hadn't gone to school for a few days and she wanted to check in. Despite my mom's foul language toward the kind librarian, she helped her get the job. 

My mom was very happy to work at the laundromat, though it had less to do with having a purpose than it did with the crumpled bills she'd find in people's clothes that would later serve as pocket change for her dealer. 

After a year, she was fired after being caught stealing from the register. It was surprising she even lasted that long in that place. 

But now she was even more desperate. 

And that's when the men started coming.

I spent my elementary and middle school years hearing my mom having sex with strangers inside the room she used to share with my father while I did homework on the kitchen table. 

Some of them were nice. Some of them weren't. 

Sometimes my mom's dealer would be the one to come around. 

One day, when I was thirteen, I'd just gotten back from the school library from working on a group project and I was making myself a sandwich when he came out of the bedroom, still buckling his pants.

“Hey there, princess,” he said.

“Hi, Steve.”

I didn't think it was strange to be on a first name basis with the guy. He was around a lot and that in itself meant it was okay to be close with him, in my mind.

Besides, he wasn't that much older than me. I think about eighteen or nineteen. It just made sense to be friends.

“How's school?” he asked as he leaned back into one of the chairs at the table.

I knew he didn't really care — that's why he dropped out, he'd say — but I still answered him honestly.

“Math's getting a bit hard but I'm doing okay.”

“That's ‘cause you're smart,” he praised as he lit up a cigarette and took the first drag. “You're gonna make it outta here real quick with that brain of yours.”

He held my gaze as he blew out the smoke away from my face. It didn't matter because it drifted back to me anyway. 

“You're pretty, too,” he murmured before taking another long drag.

I shook my head, an unamused scoff leaving my lips.

“I'm serious,” he laughed.

I turned back to look at him again, suddenly feeling shy. 

He had very nice eyes. Sometimes bloodshot but always very blue. 

I always liked how blue his eyes were.

I also liked that he complimented me. Outside of school I was barely praised for anything. 

“You think I'm pretty?”

His smile slowly faded as he squashed his cigarette butt on the floor and leaned closer to me.

“Yeah, you're fuckin’ pretty, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes flitting to my lips. “Wish I could taste you.”

I could feel my face grow hot at his words. At the time I thought he meant he wanted to kiss me, and perhaps that was all there was to what he said, but I found myself leaning closer to him, too.

I had my first kiss with a nineteen year old drug dealer. I didn't know what I was doing, of course, so I just tried to mimic his movements. He tasted awful but I felt my stomach fluttering at the thought that someone thought of me as pretty and not a disgusting nuisance.

The kiss was cut short when my mom caught sight of the scene and angrily kicked him out.

She was fuming when she got back to me, and I could feel my stomach trying to climb up my throat in anxiety.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she yelled.

I tried to explain that he asked to kiss me first, that he made the first move. But she overpowered me.

“You think I don't notice the way you look at all my men?” she sneered. “It wouldn't kill you to stop wearing that skimpy little skirt around, you filthy slut.”

I was next to be thrown out of the house. 

Living on the first floor of our apartment building included some perks, one of them being we didn’t have to climb the metal stairs attached to the side of the building to get to our apartment. There were no stairs connecting the apartment floors on the inside, either, which meant there was plenty of privacy. 

But it also meant I had no way of getting back inside that night.

It was December. It was snowing. And I slept outside.  

From then on, I was nothing but a whore, a vicious slut who was interfering with my mom's business. I had to leave the house each time she had someone over, or be locked in the closet until they finished. My mom said that as long as I was in view, men would be more interested in me, the pretty young thing, instead of her. And that wasn't fair.

Over the next couple of years, we coexisted with each other. I stayed out of her way as much as I could, a habit that ultimately translated to other aspects of my life. And she spared me just enough attention when I needed to be punished for taking money for school supplies and food. 

It got to a point when I started hanging around my high school more than I should. I'd get there extremely early and leave as late as I could without getting in anyone's way. 

And I actually really liked school. Steve wasn't lying when he said I was smart. I really did have a knack for picking up on things easily, and good grades came to me like a birthright. 

I was top of the list for everything.

Minus social skills.

I kept to myself. I was smart but I barely raised my hand in class so as to not rob anyone else of the opportunity to participate. I ate lunch alone in front of my locker to not take up any space at a table in the cafeteria. But I was fine with it.

Everything was fine.

Zeke Fritz was the youngest teacher at my school. He was well-mannered and charming, and he was very popular among all his students — but especially the girls.

He just had a dignified presence that drew everyone in. A lot of the female teachers would shamelessly flirt with him but he always remained very composed.

As the only male born to politicians with connections just about everywhere, Zeke Fritz could've lived a cushy life with a breezy job that would keep him comfortable for life.

But he wanted to be a high school teacher. So, fresh out of a masters program in math, he quickly snagged the open position at the high school I enrolled in years later. Not that an open position was a sign of good luck. For Zeke Fritz, spaces were manufactured for him wherever he chose to go.

He was well qualified for the job, though. He'd also taken a liking to me during my first and only semester of my first year. I was the first to pick up on every formula he taught and he found that endearing. 

“I think I want to be a teacher someday,” I confessed one late afternoon when he asked me to help grade my classmates’ recent pop quiz. 

I'd accepted out of a sense of duty, and because if I had rejected him, it surely would've caused him trouble of some sort.

Right?

“You'd make a fantastic teacher,” he smiled.

So, there we were. Looking back, that must've been the day I dug my own grave because Mr. Fritz seemed awfully delighted that I didn't reply to his request for help with an excuse, and that I basically confessed to looking up to him. My compliant attitude must've looked a lot different for him than it did for me.

He drove me home an hour later and watched me open the door to the apartment before leaving, like a perfect gentleman. I waved him goodbye and he smiled at me from inside his car, waving back as he sped off.

That was one of the last few times I saw him. Because just two weeks later, I dropped out of school. 

Little by little, my mom had built up a large debt with Steve, and seeing that she'd taken loans from different people, whatever she earned from selling sex just didn't cut it. Our water, gas, and electricity bills were more than we could pay for, so I had no choice.

I started mowing lawns, raking leaves, cleaning pools and houses, and walking dogs for extra cash. I wasn't rich by any means, but I'd split most of the money to appease debt collectors and whatever was left to save for a rainy day. 

When my mom noticed I was bearing most of the weight, she began slipping away from her own, leaving it for me to pick up. She continued abusing, and even developed more expensive tastes. There wasn't much I could do at that point. I could beg her to stop and flush her pills down the toilet but we'd just go in circles for hours and I'd end up huddled in the corner with tears, hugging myself in an attempt to feel some warmth. 

I landed a waitressing job at a diner. I'd go three days a week and on my off-days I'd keep working odd jobs to stay afloat. 

On one occasion, Mr. Fritz walked in.

He pronounced my name with surprise. I was even more surprised he remembered me. An entire year had gone by since I'd seen him, and I was sure he had plenty of fresh faces to occupy himself with to remember his student of roughly four months.

I politely nodded at him in greeting and showed him to a table. That night, after he insisted on driving me home, I finally caved at his fourth try. 

However, as we neared my neighborhood, I burst into tears. He pulled into a dead-end street and turned off the car. I cried for the longest time, explaining through sobs that I was tired and that I missed school but I felt forced to leave.

He held me in his arms, his hand brushing down my back in comforting strokes until I calmed down.

He began frequenting the diner after that. Every Friday, he'd invite me to sit with him during my break and he'd fill me in on what he was teaching that week. 

One night when he came in, I had a nasty bruise on my face. In one of my countless fights with my mom, she'd thrown a broken glass at my face and cut my jaw. It wasn't deep, but it was enough to leave a mark for a couple of months. 

I didn't go back home that night. I felt awful for intruding on Mr. Fritz’s space, but he was adamant I stay with him until I figured what to do. 

He provided me with food that night and clothes the following morning. I didn't want to burden him, but he'd already bought them, so I accepted the clothes with a polite nod. I remember my face warming up when I noticed his generosity went as far as new underwear and a plain white bra that fit me a bit awkwardly, but he seemed unfazed.

His place was closer to the diner I worked at, and odd jobs could be found just as well in his neighborhood. So, as long as I stayed there, I kept my routine and even helped tidy his apartment as a thank you. 

At sixteen and a half, I started studying for my GED. Mr. Fritz helped me cram for the math portion and did as much as he could for other subjects. I was incredibly grateful. 

The afternoon the results were posted on the testing portal, I was a nervous wreck. Mr. Fritz stood behind me, his hands resting comfortably on my shoulders as he assured me I'd done just fine. I scrolled down the web page in search of a passing score. When I saw it, I jumped out of my chair and screamed excitedly. Mr. Fritz picked me up and spun me around as he rejoiced in my success. 

Even when he put me down, he kept his arms around my waist as he smiled down at me.

“Congratulations,” he murmured.

And then he leaned in.

The kiss took me by surprise. His hold was strong so I merely stumbled as I tried to draw a distance.

“Mr. Fritz���” 

“What's wrong?” he gently asked me. “Don't you like me?” 

My face warmed at the question, and I barely stuttered out a response. 

“I do, but–”

I wanted to explain that my fondness was out of admiration, but he cut me off before I could.

“Then why can't we kiss? I like you, too. I always have. It's only natural. I'm a man and you're a woman. We live together; it was bound to happen.”

Confused, but trusting that his logic was a compelling argument, I nodded.

“I guess that's true.” 

“And besides, I've been helping you this entire time. I did it because I care. I'd be hurt if you didn't think I was worthy after all I've done for you. Think of it as a token of your appreciation.” 

“I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful,” I murmured. 

My voice was barely above a whisper, but my meek demeanor made him smile.

Lifting my chin, he leaned down to kiss me again. I didn't stop him that time, and he just kept going.

Before I knew it, I was routinely bent over his dinner table or pushed down to my knees so I could repay his kindness. 

This went on for months.

I felt a bit guilty. Because even though I could feel it in my gut that his logic had its flaws, I still let him have his way with me. But a few weeks in, I was convinced I was in love with him. 

It was only natural, as he once said.

People who love each other do everything together. People who love each other kiss in the shadows all the time. They sleep next to each other in the same bed and they wake up at three in the morning to have sex, which ends with the guy telling the girl he loves her because the girl asked what she means to him. People who love each other would rather stay home than go out on dates where people can see them because love is best kept private.

That's what Zeke told me.

And I trusted Zeke. I loved him.

After the diner I worked at closed down, I started making deliveries for a nearby restaurant owned by a family of the name Grice. They could only offer me weekend hours, which meant I had to move my other jobs around but I accepted their offer. Since I couldn't drive a car or a motorcycle, I had to bike everywhere. Thankfully, the Grice's eldest son, Colt, gave me his old bike to use.

Colt Grice was nice. He was only a year younger than me but we'd never met until I started working for his parents. He went to private school, so it made sense we'd never crossed paths. 

Colt Grice also had a thing for me. He asked me out a couple of times but I always politely declined. I couldn't tell him a name, but I let him know I was seeing someone. So he remained a distant admirer. 

One Saturday afternoon, as I was cycling to and from the restaurant to make deliveries, I got lost looking for the last address on my list. 

I took a wrong turn and ended up in a neighborhood I couldn't recognize. Frustrated, I hopped off Colt's bike and started walking, hopeful to find someone to ask for directions.

I passed by a dead-end and there I saw it. Zeke's car.

Confused as to what he was doing there, but relieved nonetheless, I started walking toward the car to surprise him. But I never made it.

Because as soon as I stepped forward, I caught a second figure inside the car. A girl around my age, or maybe even one or two years younger was sitting on his lap in the back seat, fervently kissing him — and he wasn't doing anything to stop her.

Stunned, I rushed out of there as fast as my feet allowed me. 

By the time I came through the door of the Grice restaurant, I'd succeeded in my last delivery but I was a mess. Colt's parents rushed to me, asking if I was okay but all I could do was apologize for the delay. 

Seeing as it was already dark out, Colt offered to walk me home. He remained quiet the entire way to Zeke's apartment building, which was perfect because I didn't have it in me to talk. As I stepped one foot in front of the other in a zombie-like daze, I thought about how crummy my life had been so far. I kept seeing flashes of Zeke and that girl in the backseat. I also thought about whether I should actually be with someone like Colt Grice.

If I was honest, had Zeke never entered my life, I would've said yes to Colt Grice ages ago. He was kind and tall, and he was nice to look at. Not to mention he was closer to my age than Zeke was. 

So when we reached the front steps of Zeke's apartment building and Colt bid me goodbye with a smile, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him.

He was taken aback, of course. But he kissed me back as soon as the shock subsided. 

Blushing, he asked if I'd like to get a smoothie with him after work tomorrow. 

I decided right then and there, on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, that I would cut ties with Mr. Fritz.

“I'd love to.”

Colt nervously laughed, amazed that I finally accepted his offer.

“I'll see you tomorrow, then,” he smiled, my name sweet on his tongue.

I didn't know Zeke had been watching us the entire time from his living room window.

My resolve to leave him was literally beaten out of me as soon as I walked through the door of his apartment.

I never brought up the girl from the dead-end street. 

I never showed up for work the next day, I never showed up for my date with Colt, and I never saw the Grice family again even after I left Zeke for good six months later.

I went back to living with my mom. As expected, she was still a mess but by then all the crap in her system had worn her out so much that I had to do everything for her. 

She couldn't fight with me like she used to just a year and a half ago, but it was still hell. She'd throw plates at me and scream horrible things at the top of her lungs until I'd break down crying each time. And that just wound her up even more. 

I couldn't just leave her. She was all I had and I was all she had.

But even the most patient hearts are worn out, and so even though I held out as much as I could for six years — and I was probably just waiting to keep her company on her deathbed — I left. She was too out of it to realize who she was talking to, but angry enough to throw a picture frame at the door when I walked out.

I moved to a new city and got a job. I used my savings to furnish the small apartment I found for myself, filling it with soft pastel colors that made the place my safe haven. 

I started wearing neutral colors, not wanting to draw attention to myself, and eventually found comfort in treating myself to the nice things I never had. 

I only went back to my hometown to fill out paperwork when I got a call that my mom had died. That same week I spent there, I heard through the grapevine that Zeke got arrested after he failed to manipulate the young daughter of one of his family's friends, bringing shame to the Fritz name. I never saw him, or Mrs. Zacharias, or Colt Grice ever again.

You don’t seem to notice that your hands have been shaking for a while now, but Eren does. He's been holding them the entire time as they prune in the cold water. 

Tears are pricking at his eyes but he refuses to let himself cry no matter how heavy his heart feels. It just doesn't feel appropriate when he's not the one trembling at the retelling of their life's story. 

Words don't come easy to him, either. An apology seems out of place, and any string of comfort just doesn't seem to cut it. He wanted to know everything and now he does. Now he's just lost on what to say that could prove to you that you made the right call to trust him.

“I'm sorry,” you murmur, lacing your fingers with his, pulling his hand out of the water, and kissing his knuckles. 

The gesture makes him ache.

“I know it's a lot.”

Eren could never lie to you. Everything you just told him definitely took a toll on him, but he’s also grateful that you shared it with him. And you shouldn't be the one to comfort him. It's given him an entire new perspective on who he wants to be for you. 

It rips him apart from the inside to think that you grew up believing you weren't worthy of healthy parents or a proper home. To think that the only time you experienced love it wasn't even real, and that distorted your understanding of the word forever. To think you were present to help anybody you could without someone to do the same for you without any ulterior motives. To think you made yourself small when you deserved just as much as anybody to take up space in the world. 

What can he say to a person who refuses to believe she could be genuinely loved but whom he loves like it's breathing?

If he had met you sooner, he would've done everything to protect you. It kills him that he couldn't keep you from being manipulated and used. 

“Do you still like me?”

Your timid voice wavers in the air. 

It dawns on Eren that he has yet to speak a word, and that you have no clue of where his head has been for the past few minutes since you caught him up to your present life. 

You don't turn around to look at him, nor do you make any other move. You just remain with your back to him, looking down at your naked legs through the soapy water.

When Eren peers at you over your shoulder, lifting your chin with a wet pruned finger, you struggle to meet his gaze. 

“Why wouldn't I?” 

You crumble in his arms. 

Eren cradles you as you cry into his chest like an affection-starved baby. He presses your naked body against his chest, rhythmically shushing you as his hand soothes your bare back and he presses his lips to your temple. 

You cry out twenty-four years worth of pain with Eren as your anchor. Your eyes swell and your features contort in anguish as you sob so violently, the movement reflects on your shoulders and your cries are mute. You cry until there are no more tears to shed and all that's left are a few hiccups as your body comes down from its panic. 

Eren turns on the shower and scrubs your body down. His fingers massage your scalp as warm water pours down your fragile frame. He sweeps the suds from your face with a gentle hand, as he looks down at you, teary-eyed but smiling as warmly as ever when you blink up at him. 

A soft, fluffy towel is ruffled over your hair as he draws out the excess moisture before he wraps a second around your body and lifts you in his arms in one swift motion. You cling to him while he carries you to bed, where he carefully sets you down and he hugs you to his chest, coaxing you to sleep while the world outside your window slows down and darkens.

It's around three in the morning when Eren stirs awake. As his eyes adjust to the darkness, he finds you looking at him.

“How long have you been awake?” he whispers.

You smile.

“A while,” you admit. “I didn't know watching someone sleep could be so fascinating.” 

“Well, now I'm embarrassed,” he laughs, his voice still groggy.

“Now you know how I feel,” you smirk, reminding him of when he's done the same. 

His hand comes up to cup your face.

“How are you feeling?” he tenderly asks, his bright emerald eyes shining in the dark.

“Better,” you murmur. Then you meekly add, “I didn't think I would cry so much. I'm a little embarrassed about that.”

Eren leans forward to plant a brief kiss on your lips. 

“Thank you,” he says, to which your eyebrows upturn in confusion.

“For trusting me,” he explains. “I know it couldn't have been easy to relive everything.”

He clears his throat as he strokes the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“I didn't know what to say at the moment. If that freaked you out, I'm sorry. But I promise none of that changes the way I feel about you. Not that, not anything. I swear. I won't fail you.” 

You thought you were dried out, but Eren's words draw another series of tears to well in your eyes and cling to your lashes.

“So you still want me?”

He smiles.

“I told you. I'm in it for the long haul.”

As you melt in each other’s embrace, you realize this is what genuine love is. People who love each other want to know each other. They hold hands and play on swings in childlike glee. They wake up at three in the morning to watch the other person sleep, careful not to disturb them because the image of them dreaming is just too precious. And whether it be in light or shadows, people who love each other kiss slowly as words of praise and worship are poured into each other's mouths and warm hands caress each other’s scars.

The last two days leading to the New Year's Eve party at the Jaeger house are spent making last minute arrangements and check-ins with the catering service, florists, pyrotechnicians, and others. 

You and Carla spend the last day shopping. You brought one of your fancier dresses in your suitcase, but after witnessing all the crates of champagne being delivered and hauled into the house in preparation for the party, as well as a preview of the flower arrangements, you felt the need to seek something livelier than the original sleek black silk dress.

It takes several stores and countless fittings until Carla finds you the perfect dress. It's simple but pretty and you and Carla are over the moon with the way it fits you when you step out of the changing room.

The following night, the music from the main house's terrace can be heard all the way inside the pool house. You haven't met anyone yet, but the sound of car doors and alarms have been faintly echoing in the background for a while.

Eren’s fixing his bow tie in front of the bedroom mirror when you slowly wander into the bedroom, in your pretty pastel dress and strappy heels, fixing your earrings as you go. 

Eren's mouth falls open when he turns around and takes in the sight. 

“What do you think?” you shyly ask.

You're in a flowy midi knife-pleated dress, washed in pastel colors that blend seamlessly between lavender, pastel pink, blue and green, like a watercolor painting. The bustier-style bodice is connected to dainty straps in the same soft colors. 

His lips part and close as he struggles to find the right words. When you giggle, he finally grins and pulls you in by the waist.

“Are you even real?” he murmurs.

You laugh as he pushes you back against the wall, smiling and cradling your face with one hand as the other keeps you pressed against him by the small of your back.

Your hands drape around his neck as he catches a glimpse of the angel necklace resting below your collarbone.

“I think we should bail on the party and just celebrate here,” he grins as his nose brushes against yours. “You know, in some cultures, New Year's is more of a private holiday.”

You throw your head back in laughter as he peppers your neck with short, eager kisses.

“Seriously,” he says, leaning back just enough to admire your smiling face. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you,” you shyly reply. “You look really good, too.”

“Well, I remembered you liked me in a suit,” he smirks, eliciting a pleasant shiver to run down your spine. “So… what do you say?”

Giggling, you shake your head.

“I think your mom will notice if her only son doesn't show up to the party.”

Eren pouts.

“You're right. Then at least I'll get to brag about having the prettiest woman in the world with me.”

He enthusiastically pulls you into a kiss, drawing out an amused giggle from your lips as you melt into his touch. 

When he pulls back, you're both smiling, connecting in one enamored look.

“Eren, I love you.”

Your eyes twinkle as they blink up at him.

“I know I haven't said it in a while but… you know I do… right?”

Eren's heart frantically pounds against his ribs as he caresses your cheek with tender strokes of his thumb.

“Of course,” he murmurs. 

Your shoulders visibly relax, like you've been holding back on repeating those three words and this moment has finally granted you with relief.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod. 

“Okay,” you sigh happily. You peck the corner of his mouth. “Come on, Carla's probably wondering what's taking so long.”

Eren doesn't move, keeping you in place against the wall.

“Wait,” he says, his voice quivering slightly at the end.

He brings your hand to his chest, giving you a second to feel the fervent beats.

You look at him curiously as your name rolls off his tongue.

“I love you.”

His features soften before you as the words leave his lips, like pronouncing them has lightened an unknown weight on his shoulders.

“I didn't say it back then,” he adds. “But it wasn't because I didn't feel it. I was just surprised you said it first. But you know I've loved you this entire time… right?”

His shy confession lines your eyes with tears. 

“Of course,” you murmur. 

He sighs heavily in relief as he kisses you once more.

“I love you,” he repeats, the words falling from his lips like it's what he was put on this earth to pronounce. 

“I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.” Kiss. “I love you.”

You cling to him, your fingers carding through his hair as he ruins your lipstick with his fervent kiss.

“I love you, Eren,” you repeat, as you fall back onto the bed, where his hand snakes up your thighs and his fingers tug your underwear to the side. 

“I love you,” you sigh as he buries himself inside you, the contact raw without a single thing to keep you apart. 

“I love you,” you whimper as your legs wrap around his middle and he finishes inside. 

You both rest on the bed, hands laced together as you regain control of your breathing. 

“I love you,” Eren smiles, your full name bouncing off his tongue and making you giggle.

“I love you, Eren Jaeger.”

The music from the string quartet on the terrace begins to play, reminding you of the night's agenda. 

“Let's go,” Eren says, helping you up with one hand.

“I'm gonna need a minute,” you tell him as you fetch a fresh pair of underwear from the dresser. “I'll be quick.”

He nods, a cocky grin taking over his lips when he notices the streak of your lipstick smeared on your chin. 

“I'll wait for you outside,” he smiles. “I gotta make a call.”

You nod and slip into the bathroom.

As you take in your reflection, an excited flutter stirs in your stomach. 

Being with Eren doesn't compare to anything else in your life. He's the warmth you've craved your entire life. He's deep in every cavity of your being, patching you up from the inside with his strength and affection.

You decide at this moment that you've never loved anyone until him.

As you trade your ruined lipstick for a tinted lip gloss and you clean the remnants from your spontaneous lovemaking, three little words shaped by Eren's warm voice echoes in your ears.

I love you. 

With one last look in the mirror, you walk out to meet him. 

As you shut the pool house door behind you, you pick up the last of Eren's call.

“I gotta go… Yeah… Good luck, buddy.”

Eren ends the call with a quick tap to his screen before turning to you.

He holds out his hand for you to take.

“Ready?”

The party is in full swing on the terrace. Champagne bottles have been popped and music and lively voices fill the air.

You feast on shrimp and cream puffs, bacon-wrapped asparagus and antipasto skewers. You clink your champagne flute with Carla and the ladies from her book club as you suggest titles for their next read and you look over at the pyrotechnicians as they finish setting up for the fireworks show with ten minutes to spare.

Eren never leaves your side. 

He laces your fingers with his as he tugs you away from the railing to dance. His hands fix your arms around his neck before settling on your waist.

He's not much of a dancer, but you follow his lead in swaying to the music. Your limbs tingle with the light buzz of brut.

“Are you happy?” he asks as he presses his forehead to yours.

You smile.

“I'm never not happy when I'm with you.”

He laughs.

“I guess I'm stuck with you, then.”

“You are,” you murmur as you draw closer to his lips.

He pulls back teasingly, chuckling when you inevitably pout at his evasion.

“Easy, you'll get your kiss in a couple of minutes.”

Resting your head on his chest, you continue to sway. It's not long before someone calls out that it's a minute to midnight. 

As fresh champagne flutes are handed out to every guest, you turn around in Eren arms so you can face the fireworks show. As everyone around you excitedly counts down the last ten seconds of the year, Eren hovers over your shoulder and lifts your chin between two fingers.

“I love you,” he murmurs.

“I love you,” you murmur back.

The two of you kiss as golden lights burst in the sky.

Later that night, buzzed from champagne and with a new bottle tucked under Eren's jacket, you stumble into the pool house, giggling like teenagers who just stole from their parent's liquor cabinet. As you clumsily undress each other and exhale sweet words in the air while reconnecting your bodies one more time, you think to yourself that Eren has managed the impossible — to heal every wound and make you happy. 

The following morning, you'll find a new series of text messages where Mikasa and Jean let their friends know they're engaged, and you'll be even happier.

Two days into the new year, you part from Paradis Island. 

At the airport, as you, Eren, and Carla have a quick lunch before you leave, Eren pulls out his phone and asks you and his mom to pose for a picture together, before asking a security guard to snap a photo of the three of you.

Carla hugs you tightly as she makes you promise you'll be back soon even for just a few days. You hold onto her just as tightly, thanking her for everything, even for the things she didn't know she gifted you, and you swear this isn't the last she'll see of you.

Roughly thirty minutes later, as you look out the window, waiting for the plane to take off, Eren's hand gently envelops yours. 

You turn to smile at him and he dips forward to kiss your temple. 

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

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[aesfocus]

TW: ANIMAL DEATH

A tiny little celebration and recounting of this lil old lady, who passed away yesterday april 22 2024, 6 years to the day her adopted sister left the world.

Read on to learn about her adoption story and some of her fav things!

I made sure she had a comfortable lovely weekend, but she let me know it was time.

So who was Turtle?

In Aug 2010 I went to a local shelter and adopted 2 kitties. One a kitten we named Genki, and another a 1+ year old mystery owner surrender they named Hello Kitty.

She saw us and started yelling and slamming herself on the glass to show us how to pet her. She snugged onto my lap immediately in the little private room to meet her and I was in love instantly.

But back at home she was very scared. She hid under the couch for three days only peaking her head out to eat some food and then she went back in. This would be the last time in her life she would be shy, but I didn't know it so I named her...

Alligator Snapping Turtle; Turtle!

She quickly became my shadow. Clinging to me night and day. She would jump onto the back of my chair, lay on my back and slowly slide down towards my butt. She did this so frequently she managed to break the chair, eventually. After that all my chairs have been bought with more room for her to snug me. For a whole decade.

If someone visited, she would insist they hold her, or she'd sleep on them in their sleep. She once was held through a 3 hour long DnD session by someone she had just met; she loved people. Loved being pet, but above all, she adored me.

She had a specific meow for me, she spent every single night for nearly 14 years in between my legs, and unfortunately, as she got older she got separation anxiety real bad. She would cry and cry for about an hour each time I left. (I rarely do as I no longer work but even a trip to the grocery store did not leave her happy!) I know this because my husband had plenty of videos of her standing at the door hoping I would return.

No matter what I did in the house there she was.

But lets back up a moment, remember that bit about owner surrender? That intake form was interesting. with questions like "What is your pets favorite toy?" came answers like 'small glove'. She spent at least a year in someone with 7 children's garage. They fed her 'cheep food' and knew very little about her past other than they found her about a year prior. No judgements to them, but this girl was a lap cat to end lap cats. You would pick her up and move her to stand and she'd jump right back into your lap. She's dig her claws in if she thought you were trying to leave. She wanted the warmth god damn it!

Here is her on top my husband. Human's were good options.

Heat vent? Also a great option.

She would, when I worked, stay in bed in the covers right where I left her until I came home from work, all nice and cozy.

She loved it when my husband worked from home, gave her ample time to try and fry his laptop during his breaks or lunches.

But her fav place was on top of me. I set up my desk just for her actually! This big living room chair was purchased so she could always be near me.

Because the previous snug situation was not cutting it!

Here she is on the chair I bought for us.

She was never very photogenic, because she saw my hand and wanted pets. If I wasn't petting her she'd cry and show me how to pet her with her paws, or she'd flop around or rub herself on something and look up at me like 'come ooooonnn you know the good spots.'

Or she would do a 'turkey twerky'(where cats twitch their tails and step from foot to foot rapidly in excitement).

Her fav toy it turned out was not a 'small glove' but in fact the simple spring. Yellow was her fav color of the springs, but past that any small bit of plastic she could chase around and yell at was great. She was a very loud little lady!

I sang her a song daily for about ten years;

"Her name is turtle! and she's a turtle! And she's got a lot to say!"

after which she'd generally make a BIG meow and I'd give her tons of attention. Because she was my lil baby girl.

But her all time fav thing, beside me of course, was going outside. She didn't get to much as I believe in, and have, indoor only cats, but on special nice days we'd go outside and she'd gets some nice supervised time with the grass. (She made the other cats jealous because only she was let outside without a harness, but that's because if she wasn't in about a 2 foot radius of me she'd come back and yell at me to follow/I was able to out run her.)

Last year I had her shaved, because she was a fat cat who was struggling with cleaning herself so we were going to get on a rotation of shaving and baths and brushing to make sure she stayed nice and clean...

But unfortunately she began to drop in weight very quickly, the primary sign something was very wrong.

She was adopted on the same day as Genki, and six years to the day she passed on the same day as her sister. Genki lost a very long fight with a fungal pneumonia in 2018 and our hearts shattered and then yesterday they did it again.

If Turtle was my heart, my little shadow, then Genki was my husband's.

Turtle was such an amazing good friend, I have so many memories of her and it doesn't seem real that she's gone. But I wanted to keep this light, and positive, and so I will end it with, adopt.

Don't shop, adopt. You never know who is waiting for you in a shelter, what kind of very full wonderful life you can provide each other! Hello Kitty became Turtle and she knew that name, she'd come running any time I called, she was my very best friend and I miss her so fucking much.

[shunshunrika]

╰──╮YUUJI ITADORI - LOVE LANGUAGE ╭──╯

 *ੈ✩ A wholesome young lad. Any parent would want him as their son-in-law. You met him because you were in the same club and were smitten by how kind and communal he was. You fell first and started finding opportunities to be around him more. He was oblivious at first but when you outright confessed, he fell harder than you did. Eventually you came to be known as the 'parent couple' of the club and people would treat you like a married couple.

 *ੈ✩ He's the type who waits after school to walk you back home even if he lives in the opposite direction. Sometimes your schedules don't align he stays back anyway to walk with you. And no, he doesn't do this to get into your pants. He's a genuinely nice person who wants to ensure you get back home safely, especially if it's late.

 *ੈ✩ The type who plans weekend outings because he knows you don't have to many people who invite you out for things when you really want to go and have a social life. Eventually his friend group becomes your family too and beach trips, karaoke, arcade, evening walks - all become a norm of your life, just like you wanted.

 *ੈ✩ Gives you company when you are doing arduous tasks. He won't talk or bother you, he just sits in close vicinity, listening to music, reading comics or doing his own thing quietly while you work. His presence is comforting and makes the tedious task go by faster. You don't know what you'd do without him.

 *ੈ✩ He's bad at giving gifts. He really wants to. He's always short on money though because he doesn't have any family to give him pocket money. Once he picks up a part-time job just to scrape up enough money to buy you a Christmas present. You cry that day. You scold him first though and then start crying. You tell him that he doesn't need to buy you material things to make you happy, he could've just shown up with his puppy face and you'd melt.

 *ੈ✩ He's a good listener and has great memory when it comes to remembering things. Also has an iron will. You note how people keep calling him stupid and blockheaded, but he really isn't. He is quite caring and compassionate, and you love this part of him, rarely found in the smartest or the hottest boy out there. He remembers little things you tell him. He remembers all your problems and the streams of thoughts you have about those problems. He remembers all the expressions you make and all the times you'd bite your lip or fumble with your fingers.

 *ੈ✩ Learns to cook for you because he's concerned you don't eat enough and are always tired. Becomes pretty good at cooking actually as he's a natural. Cooks up various cuisines, multiple times a day and makes sure you are well fed and happy. Makes sure he's using the right ingredients with the right nutrition output to boost your serotonin.

 *ੈ✩ Once, Yuuji Itadori showed up outside your house in the dead of winter, because he was super happy for some reason. He called you and asked you to look out the window as he waved his hands frantically. When you finally see him, standing there in knee deep snow, he starts moving around, writing something in large letters on the snow.

"Happy Anniversary" he spells out and grins big.

You are speechless as you walk out of the house barefoot and hug him tight.

"Happy Anniversary, you idiot."

There may be many hot men like Gojo, or cool men like Megumi - but there is only one Itadori Yuuji and he's yours.

I love him so much!!! literally the best boy in the show. He deserved more attention y'all!!

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Death halts for no smile Gen 1 pt.48

With the stress of Kason's business trip and the incident with Paris seemly behind them the time flies. Winter and Peyton return the kids Friday, having kept them a couple extra days to give Kason and Mercury some additional privacy. They spend the weekend enjoying their children.

Sunday evening as M lazed around on the couch enjoying a yogurt, she got a call from her teen cousin Micah.

M: Hey Micah, what's up?

Micah: Mercury...did Aunt Spirit call yet?

M: No, mom hasn't called me today. Why?

Micah: It's Uncle Jorden...he's dead.

M: ....wha

Micah tries to explain something on the other end but his voice sounds so far away. Mercury doesn't hear him, she doesn't hear anything besides the sound of her own heart pounding rapidly between her ears. Micah's voice fades back in as M hears her phone make a noise signaling she had another call. She checks the screen. It's her mom. She answers, cutting off whatever Micah was saying. When she answers, the line is silent for a moment too long.

M:...m..mom

Spirit: Little planet.

Spirit voice is calm and strong, just like M knew her mother would be. Spirit had always been comfortable and at ease with death. She remembered something her mother said to her and Beckett when they were young and their pet hamster died. Mercury whispers it to her mother, slow and deliberate. The unspoken question waiting to be answered.

M: No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away.

Spirit responds back with conviction.

Spirit: And your father is no different.

The world shattered around her. Her father, her best friend, the man who gave her away and promised her a moon, was really gone. When the silence stretches for an uncomfortable period of time, Spirit tells M to come over, but she declines.

Spirit: When the grief is too much, come home Mercury.

Her mothers voice firm but filled with love and concern. Mercury realized she'd gotten away for the moment but knew she'd have to go home eventually. Too soon, if her opinion counted.

M: I will mom...I'm sorry. We'll see you in a couple of days...I love you.

Spirit: You have nothing to be sorry for. We love you Little Planet.

But M wasn't sure who "We" consisted of anymore. Her father was gone. It seemed selfish not to see her mother right away but she knew her mother didn't need her. She accepted death as a normal part of any lifespan, something she had tried to teach M and Beckett while gardening when they were young.

Her mother had loved her father in a way that shaped M's whole idea of relationships. Spirit cared for him, had been his perfect equal and she had balanced his weird like no one else could have. For all the awkward, rambunctious and clumsy Jorden had been Spirit was confident, wise and organized. He was a loving husband and a doting father. Jorden had kissed M and Becketts scrapes, read bedtime stories and taught them to ride bikes. He filled their weekends with treehouse building, woodwork project and terrible dad jokes. He'd burned plenty of French Toast every Sunday morning, then Spirit would take everyone out for Breakfast while Jorden told the story of "Burnt French Toast and Becketts birth" for the hundredth time.

The memories continued to flood her mind. She'd just seen her parents during Kason's work trip and they had planned to come back in just two weeks for the triplets and Zohreh's almost back to back birthdays. Birthday's Jorden wouldn't be present for. She was spiraling, she screamed for Kason.

M: Kason!!

He was at her side moments later. He kneels before her folded frame.

Kason: M what is it?! Are you okay? What happened?

M: My...my dad...

But she couldn't complete the sentence. Kason let it click into place and jumped into Husband mode. He gathered her and held her while she cried. When she couldn't cry anymore he took her upstairs to the master bathroom and ran a bath, leaving her to get cleaned up while he fed the kids and got them ready for bed. All M could manage was getting herself clean in between random bouts of tears she couldn't stop.

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[deadheaddaisy]

😂 a funny or crack WIP snippet

🤩a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from Janelle Kelly!

❓ any WIP snippet you want!

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

Let's get down to bidness!

😂 a funny or crack WIP snippet

“Time to resume our normal duties then, sir.”

“Well, there’s a bit of a snafu to handle, Malcolm, Hoshi.”

“What kind of a ‘snafu’, sir?” Hoshi’s spidey senses were beginning to tingle.

Archer coughed, looking a bit embarrassed. “It seems that when you were doing the 'rehearsal’, the officiant actually went through the entire [redacted] ritual. So you are, in fact, married by [redacted] law.”

Malcolm stood, stunned, unable to speak. Hoshi went pale, then flushed, then pale again.

“I’ll leave you two to talk it out,” Archer said hastily, and practically ran from the room.

🤩a WIP snippet about or with dialogue from Janelle Kelly!

"Look," said Janelle, "we have to have a name that slays, right? We can have the best individual names, but the scoring is based on the team, and we want our team name to be memorable."

A chorus of agreements went up from the larger group, and Hoshi nodded thoughtfully. 

"Okay," she said, "suggestions?"

"Space Furies!" cried one.

"Warp Factor!" came another voice.

"We could call ourselves Percussive Maintenance!" called Anna.

"Nah, we're not all engineers!" Esk groused. 

"Okay, smart mouth, what's your suggestion?" asked Anna.

Esk thought for a moment, then grinned. "The Enter-Preys," she said smugly. 

"I'll put it on the list," said Hoshi. "Keep 'em coming!"

"The Shuttle-Bodyslams," Anna piped up again. "Get it? Instead of Shuttle-Pod?" The group gave a collective groan and she smirked smugly.

"How about the Fed-Array-Shins?" suggested Liz. Hoshi added it to the list.

"Anything else?" she asked. 

"The NX-Oh-Wons," Janelle said thoughtfully.

"They can all go on the list," said Hoshi, "and we can take a vote."

❓ any WIP snippet you want!

He was bitterly aware that Captain Archer and the bridge crew were watching from the sidelines, hoping to see their Enterprise team make a good showing. And here he was, letting down the side with an inglorious effort. The humiliation stung, and Hayes being almost cloyingly magnanimous as Malcolm and his team faced yet another defeat, was not to be borne. 

Then Hayes added, “And it must be stressful, being taken down every time. Combat isn’t for everyone,” and Malcolm decided that the other man would have to die. He wasn’t sure exactly how, but it would happen right now, if he had anything to say about it. 

😍 published lines or a section of a fic that you loved writing?

This one's from Learning The Ropes:

“I- um, I … I broke my company commander’s arm and got thrown out of Starfleet,” she mumbled. “They let me back in on probation because they needed linguists.”

There was a momentary silence. 

“You … broke your commander’s arm … and got thrown out of Starfleet?” the lieutenant repeated slowly, as if feeling out the words. Her face aflame, Hoshi nodded, feeling a fool. “May I ask why?”

“I, er, I was running a poker game and he didn’t like that and tried to stop me.” Her nose wrinkled. “It’s not like I was breaking the rules either,” she said in an aggrieved tone. “I made sure to only do it on weekends and not during duty hours. I think he was just angry that I wouldn’t let him join.” She glared mutinously at the phase pistols, as if they were the direct cause of her past predicament.

A choked splutter from the direction of Lieutenant Reed startled her into remembering where she was. When she looked up, the armoury officer was coughing into his elbow, most of his face covered. His eyes met hers, and his coughing fit seemed to worsen. 

“Sir! Are you okay?” Hoshi asked worriedly, rounding the table to check on him. “Can I get you some water?”

“No, no, Ensign, I’m fine,” the lieutenant said in a strangled voice, waving her off. “Just got something in my throat, that’s all.” He emerged from behind his arm, a touch red in the face. 

[acourtofthought]

I came to a realization/prediction/hope this weekend which I feel the need to share with you.

I think there’s going to be a moment in the Elucien book when Elain is going to hurt Lucien, badly. Idk if it will be telling him about Azriel or something else, but I think Lucien is going to tell her he needs time.

I think it will be obvious how hurt he is, and Elain is going to feel terribly about it. Whether or not she comes to this conclusion herself or someone else will remind her (Vassa? Jurian? Eris? An entirely new character?) I don’t know, but she’s going to remember that when she needed time, Lucien gave it to her. So, she’s going to need to swallow her wants (& maybe pride) to give him that same courtesy in return. And in doing so, she’ll gain a new appreciation for him, and his character.

I believe this will be after they’ve built a banter, hell maybe even after they’ve already kissed and been quite intimate. Something which truly makes her scared that she might loose him for good, and forces her to face that deep seated fear of rejection. A similarity between herself and her mate, but something she’s previously avoided and now can’t.

Obviously, I think they will end up together. I think Elain will let Lucien come back to her, and when he does, force him to hear her apology (because he never gets the apologies he’s deserved, and can be too forgiving, somewhat to his detriment.) And, I think this will be the foundation of her protectiveness of him. Not that she wouldn’t have been be before this situation, but that now she’d have a newfound fire in facing anyone who came for him. A loyalty and fierceness equally matched by her mate.

Anyways, I just wanted to share and ask what you think!

🧼💖

NTSSM!!!! I wouldn't be surprised if we already had that happen in SF. That scene where Cassian says, "Where's Elain?" and Lucien responds (voice dripping with discomfort), "I am not always in this city to see my mate" then he later goes on to look at her with longing on Solstice but the whole thing with Az happens. I'm not sure how much Lucien is aware of what nearly went down that night but he must have sensed something in the last year. I imagine he's gotten to the point, regardless of how much he longs for her, where he's frustrated with the situation, where he is hurt with the situation. And I think the start of their book will be with him fed up with her actions and where we maybe see a little bit of a temper from him. Where he's kind of given up on the idea of there being hope for them. Though I'm not sure I see them having progression in their book only for him to be hurt by her and him telling her he needs more time (at least not in a major way) because that halts the story overall. If Elain and Lucien's arc involves them traveling to Spring, the human lands, the continent, etc., they're going to be forced to interact for that fact alone and I don't see either Elain or Lucien being the one to hold a grudge during that time. I also don't see Lucien being so hurt that he would shut her out for any reason. Normally mated males would rather sacrifice their own happiness than cause distress to the female. Though maybe it would be something along the lines of what we saw with Feyre and Rhys, when she lashed out after their visit to the CON or Nesta and Cassian after he said he didn't have a choice in being shackled to her and she called in their bargain. Both Rhys and Cassian were hurt by some things their mate said and though both pairings need a few days to clear their minds, it didn't make the guys question wanting to be together. With her endgame pairings, she usually has the FMC apologize for her past behaviors but she doesn't have the male typically push her aware for anything. I do think though, when Elain finally lets go of her stubbornness in regards to the bond and she gives that big apology to Lucien for her behavior the last two years, that's when we'll really see the protectiveness you mentioned come into play.

[truckstoptigers]

I think the worst part about remembering is that at this point, nobody is off-limits. i was constantly surrounded by people who were abusing me/letting it happen when with my father. in the first few years of trafficking me, we lived in a tiny apartment that barely fit two people, let alone four. my little brother & i slept on a mattress on the floor while our father & his girlfriend slept in the bed. half the time we didn't even get sufficient covers or pillows. and his girlfriend didn't even seem to think anything of it. never tried to help us/provide bedding, never offered to turn the heater on for us, nothing.

we were in such close quarters that I don't know how she WOULDN'T have noticed something was wrong, but. that's the same woman that knew I was sick and had a borderline dangerously high fever, but still drove me to goodwill so she could try on clothes - I was literally sitting on the floor of the dressing room with my head leaned against the wall, fighting to stay conscious. we were just down the street from where my mom lived and she knew I was sick, but she didn't seem to care. neither of them did. my mom was FURIOUS when I got home and she took my temperature. all she had to do was look at me to know I was really sick, and she was pissed at my father & stepmother for knowingly disregarding that. my mom & her side of the family are the only reason parts of my childhood were good. they care about & love me so much, and I'm so grateful for that.

but.

I'm scared because I think my stepmother's brother did something to me too, but I can't fully remember what, and I don't know that I'll ever have all the pieces to put that one together. I'm scared because my uncle (father's half-brother) always scared the shit out of me and I can think of only one reason as to why that could be, because he was never physically abusive - he could yell, but he never raised a hand to me or his two daughters.

we lived with him for a while, on two different occasions. I was terrified of him. I didn't feel safe if his wife (my aunt) wasn't around. I don't remember enough to know for sure though, which is the only thing keeping me from losing it tbh. that bedroom down the hall in that trailer was the first place my father raped me. they might've even been home at the time, my cousins & their parents. I just - how could that stuff happen so closely around other people and NOBODY noticed? it makes my chest hurt. how did nobody think anything was just a little bit off? I'd scream & cry every time it was my father's weekend because I knew what was coming, but no one else did, and I was too scared to tell them.

it's hard not to feel a little bit bitter about that. it's even worse to have to seriously consider the idea that yet another family member was abusing me around the same time. and if my uncle really did do something to me, that terrifies me. my cousins are both girls. their mom lived with them for a while, but at some point she seemingly got fed up (she wanted to live a very different life) and walked out, which left my cousins alone with him.

I can only pray that the only man that did anything to me was my almost stepmother's brother (the woman we lived with in the apartment; she & my father broke up eventually) and not my uncle too. I highly doubt he'd only abuse me and not his daughters in that case, and that scares the shit out of me. what I learned in those eight years my father abused me is that no one - and nowhere - was safe. sometimes the men would pay my father in drugs, which I now know they probably did together because she developed a nasty addiction while she was with him - I'd seen him do hard drugs pretty often, and she did them too. I wonder if she knew where they came from. I can only hope she didn't bother to ask, but I doubt he would've told her if she didn't already know.

she didn't protect me. she didn't ever try to get between my father and I, even though she'd witness him screaming at me & sometimes hitting me. I was eight fucking years old. I still remember the time I innocently tried to help with my brother when he said a cuss word & getting smacked by our father because I "was not the parent." I sure fucking felt like I was. even my brother's own mother didn't take care of him the way she should've, and even if she does now, that's not something I can just forget.

I don't know. I really hope it's just my brain being paranoid, but I can't know for sure right now. I want to be able to say my uncle only intimidated me with words/yelling frequently, but I don't know. I don't know. and I hate that. I hate that the memories come back with no real consistency, and that I might not even be done recovering them. I want it to be over but I get the feeling it isn't, yet. I don't know if it ever will be.

I just hope I'm wrong, because that would make things so much worse. the one place I felt safe/like I could get away from everything was the same place I was raped for the first time, and in that case maybe it was never truly safe. maybe I'm an idiot for thinking anywhere with my father was safe.

at this point, all I can do is hope he didn't hurt me, but I can't even be sure he didn't.

[vs-redemption]

*Hajime wakes up before the sun has even started peeking; the bedroom he shares with you is still dark and chilly. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes and leans in to kiss your cheek softly, murmuring a soft ‘Happy Birthday’ before making sure you’re still tucked in and asleep. He wants you to get the most rest as you can to start your birthday off to a good start*

*He gets out of bed to get things ready, chuckling when the kitties Suga and Thoma follow him*

“Want to help me make your momma’s birthday breakfast? Come on, I’ll feed you then you two can help me,”

*Once he’s got the cats feed, he gets to it on making some muffins then cooking some eggs, sausages, and fruit. He checks on the muffins, making sure they’re all good in the oven, then prepares your lunch bag. He knows you’ve prepped your lunches already, so he decides to add to it with the muffins of course along with some soup to keep a cold at bay. He also slips in a letter he wrote the weekend before when he was keeping you company while you graded. A soft smile blooms on his lips as he thought about all the cheesy and heart filled things he wrote in this letter; remembering how often he pauses to just admire you while you concentrated. He may also have written some naughty promises he has planned for you birthday night to which he chuckles again, smug, at the image of you blushing as you read that part*

*The last part he puts in your lunch bag is a scarf. Fall was here and he knew it was getting colder with each passing day, so he had commissioned someone to make a scarf for you. It was soft to the touch and even a softer orange color.  Embroidered at one end of the scarf was Chibi you, him, and the kitties Suga and Thoma. His hand brushes over it with affection and he hopes you will like it*

*Once the muffins were out of the oven and cooled, he puts two in your lunch back then three on the tray with the rest of your breakfast along with warm tea, water, and a bouquet of red and orange tulips, symbolizing passion, true feelings, understanding, and appreciation. He hears your alarm go off and the rustling of you moving around under the covers. Hajime’s heartbeat quickens a little and the tip of his ears go warm, hoping you would like this birthday breakfast. He smiles when he enters the room and finds you waking up, coming over to you to kiss you first then setting the bed tray of the birthday breakfast*

“Good morning and happy birthday, honey. Made you something yummy for breakfast, what do you think?”

*His eyes shine in pride and love and he kisses you again before slipping back into bed with you, his hand finding yours to hold*

“I love you, Cindy. I’m glad you and I found each other. I’m so honored that you are sharing this life with me and I look forward to every moment I get to be with you. You’re my heart and moon. 愛してる.”

Hajime Iwaizumi

(HAPPY BIRTHDAY CINDY! i hope today is a wonderful day for you and i hope you get so much love on your birthday! love you!)

*Despite his efforts to keep me cozy and asleep, I still end up waking up before my alarm. The delicious smells coming down the hall from the kitchen were hard to ignore, but I stay in bed so as not to ruin his plan. I figure he must've fed the babies too because they don't come running when my alarm goes off, or even follow him into the bedroom when he brings in the food.* Good morning, Handsome. Thank you.

*I accept his kiss before taking the tray and looking over all the yummy food. He'd put in so much effort and it made my heart feel so full.*

This all looks and smells amazing, babe. You've really spoiled me.

*I scoot to make room for him next to me and then lean against his side once he's in the bed with me again. I give his hand a squeeze as I listen to his sweet words.*

I love you too, Hajime. More than anything. You make me so happy. I can't imagine a life without you at my side, so it really means a lot to hear that you feel the same way. Thank you so much for everything you do for me. I love you so so much.

*When I find the scarf, note, and extra food in my lunch later, my heart feels even more full of love for this man. He was so incredibly thoughtful and I make sure to text him on my lunch break.*

I got your gift and note! I absolutely love the scarf with our little family on it. And even though your note made me blush, it made me very eager to get home to you and spend the rest of my birthday together. You will always be my brave shining knight. Love you to the moon and back. ♥

[seitmai]

These two... so many thoughts 🫠

She screeched. "You slept with one of those hot aviators, didn't you?" she asked, tone somewhere between accusatory and delighted. But even though she didn't know what type of quest you had been on, she was definitely able to tell you'd had your world rocked. "Which one? What was his call sign? I just love their call signs."

Lol she definitely is a tag chaser

As you cried into your pillow, you realized your lace thong was still somewhere at Jake's place. It would probably end up in the trash along with everything else that the women he fucked accidentally left behind. 

No!! Don't even think that!!

But you couldn't even manage to do that much correctly. Jake was a million times better than anyone you'd ever met on campus, and that was the kind of thing he deserved to hear you say. He deserved so much more, and he'd probably find it in someone older and more put together than you. But no, all of these items were strewn about just to make coming to terms with things harder. It should have been laughable, getting rejected by a twenty year old, but the weekend he spent with you was the closest thing he'd felt to a relationship in years. You fed him that disgusting pizza. He held you while you napped. You actually listened to him when he talked. He couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. Even the clothes in his drawers made him think of the way you dug around in there like you owned the place.

🥺🥺🥺

He flew worse than he could ever remember, so maybe it was a good thing you rejected him after the weekend was over. He couldn't focus, but it would have just been worse the longer he was hung up on you.

Jake you got this all wrong! You fly like shit because she left, if she stayed that wouldn't be a problem

Last Friday around this time, you were at the Hard Deck with your fake ID, and he sat up abruptly when he considered that there was a chance you might be there again tonight. That you might be looking for him. Like an idiot, he grabbed the keys to his truck and headed there to find out for sure. Maybe you wouldn't agree with him, but he still felt like he'd been better to you than any of the others would have been. God, all he wanted was to know that you learned something useful from him, not just that he had casual sex with tag chasers. 

Just to make sure 😭 if they would have talked he would know that she would agree with him🫠

You hadn't reached out to him once. He wasn't sure if his number had successfully saved in your phone, but it didn't much matter. You knew where to find him, and you hadn't tried to.

Don't give up Jake! It's just one Friday, maybe the next? 🤞🏻

You'd known him for months, way longer than you knew Jake, but you couldn't figure out why you weren't as comfortable around him. 

The gut feeling knows

You needed to give him a shot. It wasn't really his fault that you had Jake on the brain after weeks of dodging his advances. He wanted you, and you deserved to enjoy him. You already rid yourself of your virginity, and you knew the twelve rules. Condoms and communication and no cutting corners. You had this. Besides, you'd never know if it would always be just as good with another partner unless you saw it through.

Lol that's some internal pep talk

"How about a little more foreplay?" you asked, and he looked back at you like it was a foreign concept. "I like foreplay," you added softly. "Right," he replied, climbing on top of you where he touched you through your panties until you weren't exactly sure if you were wet or not.

I can't, I know enough about Cooper already lol

"Will you go down on me?" you asked him, and he almost groaned. "I mean... I guess. If you go down on me."

🚩🚩🚩

Well. You had tested your theories and come up with several conclusions. Sex was not exciting with every partner. Guys did in fact like to cut corners. And not all of them seemed to know the twelve rules rules. As you pulled your dress on over your head, you thought about how much better you felt around Jake than you ever would around Cooper.

Hard research and we a clear end result of this extremely scientific research: Jake- Yay, Cooper (+literally everyone else)- Nay 🙅🏻‍♀️

Jake was nothing but a perfect gentleman the whole time you were with him. He took care of you in so many ways, not just sexually, and you made him feel bad about himself. It didn't matter why he was skilled in bed, he was sweet. He hadn't mentioned other women while you were there, but you did. There was nobody to blame except yourself.

A realisation!!! Finally!! Better late than never I guess

You tried to find Kylie's name in your contacts list, hoping she would come pick you up, but instead your thumb paused over Jake Seresin. And then you did something stupid.

Not stupid!!!

He was on his feet, tearing down the hallway toward his bedroom in search of clothing as he tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Well, then why don't you tell me where you are so I can come try to make it okay?" There was a short pause, during which he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat. "I would like that," you whispered. Then you gave him an approximate address which he knew was on your college campus. "I'll be right there," he promised.

Yes!!!!! 🥳🥰🥹

The next one is already the last?! Wow, I can't wait what their ending will be 🥰

Mr. Right Now Part 10 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: You left behind too many reminders of the weekend you spent with Jake, and even though he wants to, he just can't seem to get rid of them. You're free to test your theories, but you should have known you wouldn't like the results.

Warnings: angst, sex, oral sex, adult language, 18+

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

You stood in your building on campus and looked around like it was completely foreign to you. The few days you'd spent at Jake's place made this seem like a distant memory, and you felt like a completely different person now as you wiped at your tears. When you stood inside the lobby and watched him slowly pull away in his pickup truck, your heart begged you to run back out to him. But it was over. He gave you what you asked him to, and it was done.

Someone who lived on your hallway waved to you, but you barely acknowledged her. You were too tired to even stop at your mailbox to see if there was anything inside, so you headed for your door. With your fingers crossed, you slid your key into the lock, hoping like hell that Kylie was out for the night. But it was Sunday, and you found her sitting on the couch with a smirk as soon as she saw you.

"Where have you been?" she asked, tossing her hair over her shoulder and pausing her show. The common area was small, but you'd have to walk right past her to get to your personal bedroom, and you thought better of trying to blow her off.

"Out," you replied carefully, unsure how much you wanted her to know.

"With Cooper?" Her eyes flashed with excitement. "You've been gone all weekend!"

You shook your head and held your purse against your chest. She'd get it out of you eventually if she tried hard enough, so you said, "I went to that Navy bar you liked so much."

"The Hard Deck?" She was on her feet now, surprise written all over her face. You were sure she was having a hard time picturing you there; you had in fact stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Yes."

She screeched. "You slept with one of those hot aviators, didn't you?" she asked, tone somewhere between accusatory and delighted. But even though she didn't know what type of quest you had been on, she was definitely able to tell you'd had your world rocked. "Which one? What was his call sign? I just love their call signs."

You stared at her, suddenly surprised you'd ever considered sleeping with Rooster in the first place. You were a completely different person now because of the past forty-eight hours, and you were also embarrassed by what you said to the man who had treated you with respect the entire time.

"His name was Jake," you whispered as tears threatened your eyes again. "I need to finish something for my first class tomorrow, so I'm going to do that now."

You walked past her while she nodded in approval, like she was proud of you now, and you closed yourself in your room as a sob escaped your lips. Your bag fell to the floor as you tried to kick your sneakers off, but you gave up and just collapsed onto your bed. As you cried into your pillow, you realized your lace thong was still somewhere at Jake's place. It would probably end up in the trash along with everything else that the women he fucked accidentally left behind. 

How could you have been so stupid? Falling for a man like Jake? A thirty year old man who simply agreed to fuck your virginity away so you could get on with your college life. A man who was the equivalent of a major league ballplayer while you were barely a little league benchwarmer.

"You insulted him," you whispered as you rolled onto your side, and the tears kept coming. He said you made him feel cheap, which he had never once done to you. He made you breakfast and took you on a pizza date in his dining room and snuggled you in his bathtub, and you acted like he was undesirable. 

He called you naive, and perhaps he wasn't wrong. You had no idea what you were doing there. The weekend was supposed to be simple: lose your virginity so you could go out with Cooper. But you couldn't even manage to do that much correctly. Jake was a million times better than anyone you'd ever met on campus, and that was the kind of thing he deserved to hear you say. He deserved so much more, and he'd probably find it in someone older and more put together than you.

-------------------------

Jake fell asleep with his bedroom window open, but the sound of the ocean was less peaceful and more turbulent when he was alone. His kitchen was a mess from the meals he'd shared with you, and the pizza box was still on his dining room table. But he couldn't bring himself to clean any of it up just yet.

He still felt like shit on Monday morning. In your mind, he was exactly the same as Rooster or any of the other guys would have been, but you were so much more to him. He felt good when he was around you. Or at least he had before you abruptly ended the weekend by telling him he was only made for one thing.

When he walked into his bathroom, he was greeted by an empty bottle of Sam Adams and a wine glass on the edge of his bathtub. "Fuck," he gasped, turning away from them to brush his teeth. The green toothbrush he gave you to use the first night you slept over was right there next to his, and he couldn't keep his fingers from touching it like he half expected it to be a figment of his imagination. 

But no, all of these items were strewn about just to make coming to terms with things harder. It should have been laughable, getting rejected by a twenty year old, but the weekend he spent with you was the closest thing he'd felt to a relationship in years. You fed him that disgusting pizza. He held you while you napped. You actually listened to him when he talked. He couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. Even the clothes in his drawers made him think of the way you dug around in there like you owned the place.

"God damn it," he groaned when he realized your lace thong somehow ended up on his dresser. It was too easy to picture you on Friday night, wearing it in his kitchen with your skirt on the floor at your feet, trust in your gaze even though you didn't really know him yet. You looked sinful that night with a sharp retort on your lips when he thought he was the one in charge. You weren't just some dumb college kid; you were a funny and resourceful and sexy woman. He ran his thumb along the lace before pushing it to the side to finish getting ready for work.

He flew worse than he could ever remember, so maybe it was a good thing you rejected him after the weekend was over. He couldn't focus, but it would have just been worse the longer he was hung up on you. He was surly and short with everyone he encountered, and by the middle of the week, they just left him alone.

But it was still so bad by Friday, and it wasn't helping that he hadn't yet cleaned up the wine glasses or the pizza box or thrown out the green toothbrush. He skipped dinner and took the time to hand wash each glass he'd filled with ice water for you. Then he walked the pizza box directly to the dumpster. But your underwear and that fucking toothbrush remained in their spots, and he decided he would save them for another day.

Alone and sprawled out on the couch, he couldn't help but wonder what you were doing right now. Last Friday around this time, you were at the Hard Deck with your fake ID, and he sat up abruptly when he considered that there was a chance you might be there again tonight. That you might be looking for him.

Like an idiot, he grabbed the keys to his truck and headed there to find out for sure. Maybe you wouldn't agree with him, but he still felt like he'd been better to you than any of the others would have been. God, all he wanted was to know that you learned something useful from him, not just that he had casual sex with tag chasers. 

But when he got to the bar and looked around, he knew right away you weren't there. No leather mini skirts, and no Converse sneakers. Just aviators getting loaded while playing pool, and an assortment of every kind of woman anyone other than Jake could possibly want.

He was nothing other than a self-fulfilling prophecy, the way he was almost immediately approached by a woman he took home weeks ago. Your words echoed in his mind. 

"You're so good at fucking, no wonder all the tag chasers want you. I'm sure they all missed you this weekend."

"Not tonight," he told the woman who pouted at him. She gave him no witty retort before she walked away, but it didn't matter. Jake was already thinking about how he should have held onto your fake ID so you couldn't get into any real trouble with the fucking thing. But you weren't his to worry about or protect, and perhaps that was what bothered him more than anything else. If you were, he'd have you wrapped up in the fleece blanket that he kept on the back of his couch while the two of you ignored a movie in favor of making out. If you were, he'd have a reason to keep the toothbrush.

He just fucking knew you were with that dipshit Cooper who was the reason you came to the Hard Deck in the first place. There was nothing wrong with you when you met Jake, but Cooper was the reason you thought there was. "Fuck," he groaned running his hands over his face as he took himself back out to the parking lot and and drove home again. 

You hadn't reached out to him once. He wasn't sure if his number had successfully saved in your phone, but it didn't much matter. You knew where to find him, and you hadn't tried to.

While he drove, he let himself get lost in the memory of how fucking good he felt last weekend. He didn't want to forget that feeling. He wouldn't be able to anyway. He just wished he couldn't still hear the way it sounded when you apologized and told him he had been perfect.

----------------------------

"Stop," you said with a forced laugh. 

Cooper was drunk, and his hand was on your bare thigh again as you hung out at his place with some of your mutual friends. What a departure this was from last Friday night when you had to beg Jake to touch you. At least at first. After a bit, neither of you could seem to stop.

But Cooper was doing this in front of other people. Maybe it was your fault for agreeing to hang out with him tonight and agreeing to see a movie with him tomorrow, but you would have preferred he do this in private.

"Let's go to my room then," he coaxed in what you were sure he thought was an endearing tone. But his breath smelled like beer in a bad way, and when he kissed you, it was obvious that he had overdone it. 

All you could think about was Jake. 

Jake. Jake. Jake. 

You needed to put a stop to this, but tonight wasn't working for you.

"Cooper, I think we should just hang out tomorrow. You know, when you're sober?"

At least he had the decency to look abashed. And when you went out with him on Saturday, he was much better. He didn't invite you back to his room again, even after you made out with him, which you appreciated. You'd known him for months, way longer than you knew Jake, but you couldn't figure out why you weren't as comfortable around him. 

There was just something about Jake. Charisma. That was it. Charm. Every woman probably reacted to him the way you had, and he was probably just as attentive to everyone else.

Since Cooper was the reason you ended up at Jake's in the first place, you let him eat lunch with you all week and walk you back to your dorm from your classes. You let him wrap his arm around your waist and tuck his fingers into the top of your jeans. You let him kiss you each time you saw him.

You needed to give him a shot. It wasn't really his fault that you had Jake on the brain after weeks of dodging his advances. He wanted you, and you deserved to enjoy him. You already rid yourself of your virginity, and you knew the twelve rules. Condoms and communication and no cutting corners. You had this. Besides, you'd never know if it would always be just as good with another partner unless you saw it through.

So the following Friday, after you finished your classes for the week, you took a shower and changed into a dress that Cooper told you weeks ago looked cute, and then you walked the mile or so to the other end of campus where he lived. He was waiting for you when you got there with a smile on his face, and your heart beat a little faster.

"Come on inside," he said, holding out his hand. He was familiar now, and comfort could grow over time. You were sure of it. And he was a good kisser when he wasn't drinking. Tonight it felt nice, and he wrapped you up in his arms as soon as you walked past his roommates who were playing video games. 

When he opened his door, he said, "I even cleaned my room for you. What do you think?"

It looked the same as it always did, and you rolled your eyes and laughed. "You didn't. But it doesn't matter."

"I tried a little," he mumbled, grinning at you before he closed the distance to kiss you again. "Give me a tiny bit of credit?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his hands found your waist, and you sighed when his lips drifted along your neck. He sucked on you there, bruising you before pulling away. But it didn't feel bad. Not at all. It felt okay. You closed your eyes, immediately getting lost in the feel of it. Firm chest against your breasts. Big hands. Soft hair. Your fingers gave a little tug on the strands, and he groaned, cock hard in his jeans, pressing against you.

"Do you wanna....?" Cooper asked, easing your dress up your legs. You were almost startled when you remembered it was him instead of Jake, but you nodded.

"Yeah," you whispered. "I want to." You still had the three condoms in your little purse along with your fake ID and your actual ID. But when you ended up on your back on his bed, Cooper was already excitedly reaching for your underwear even though you definitely weren't ready to get a condom out yet. 

"How about a little more foreplay?" you asked, and he looked back at you like it was a foreign concept. "I like foreplay," you added softly. 

"Right," he replied, climbing on top of you where he touched you through your panties until you weren't exactly sure if you were wet or not. You tried to slow him down by kissing him, but he was practically rutting against your leg. 

"Will you go down on me?" you asked him, and he almost groaned.

"I mean... I guess. If you go down on me."

It must have been because it was your first time together, but he seemed in a hurry. He didn't stay in one place long enough for you to get the hang of how it felt with him. You didn't like rushing. You liked long, drawn out orgasms and being called Darlin'. Cooper didn't call you anything. He didn't speak at all; he only grunted as the two of you had sex that left you completely unsatisfied.

Well. You had tested your theories and come up with several conclusions. Sex was not exciting with every partner. Guys did in fact like to cut corners. And not all of them seemed to know the twelve rules rules. As you pulled your dress on over your head, you thought about how much better you felt around Jake than you ever would around Cooper.

"Feel like playing video games with me and the guys? Or you just want to leave until I see you tomorrow?" Cooper asked, opening his bedroom door and hovering there expectantly as tears stung your eyes. 

"You know," you whispered, trying to keep your voice calm, "I think I'll just walk back to my place."

"Okay, cool."

He didn't offer to walk with you. All he did was send you off with a kiss as he opened a can of beer while his friends called his name. You made it about two blocks before you started crying, because you had tried so hard to fool yourself, but you completely fucked everything up.

Jake was nothing but a perfect gentleman the whole time you were with him. He took care of you in so many ways, not just sexually, and you made him feel bad about himself. It didn't matter why he was skilled in bed, he was sweet. He hadn't mentioned other women while you were there, but you did. There was nobody to blame except yourself.

You practically tripped on the sidewalk as your tears obscured your vision, and you sat down hard on a bench with your phone in your hand. You tried to find Kylie's name in your contacts list, hoping she would come pick you up, but instead your thumb paused over Jake Seresin. And then you did something stupid.

---------------------------

Jake was sitting on his couch in his underwear eating a pizza with toppings he didn't even like when his phone rang. The caller had a local area code, but he didn't know the number. He was about to swipe to ignore it when his curiosity got the best of him.

"Hello?"

He was met with silence. Or so he thought. He was about to end the call, but then he heard a soft sigh. His heart beat a little faster as he tossed the slice of pizza back into the open box.

"Hello?" he repeated, gentler this time.

"Jake."

He would know your voice anywhere. He'd been replaying everything you said to him in his mind for the past two weeks. He was afraid he'd never hear from you again. "Darlin'," he said softly, missing the way that word felt on his tongue. "Are you okay?"

The sound of your breathing was followed by a sob as you said, "Not really."

He was on his feet, tearing down the hallway toward his bedroom in search of clothing as he tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Well, then why don't you tell me where you are so I can come try to make it okay?"

There was a short pause, during which he could hear nothing but his own heartbeat. "I would like that," you whispered. Then you gave him an approximate address which he knew was on your college campus.

"I'll be right there," he promised.

-------------------------------

How are we feeling? Maybe Cooper was a good idea before Jake, but definitely not after. The next chapter will be the last one. Thanks for reading. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[jrpneblog]

Big series of games coming up

North End resume their Championship campaign this weekend with a home game against Coventry City (12.30 ko) followed by another home game against Norwich City on Tuesday evening (7.45 ko). These fixtures will give Paul Heckingbottom a chance to get his team climbing the table after the steady progress seen since PH took over. In fact there are seven games between this Saturday and the next International break which comes after the game at Portsmouth on November 9th. Six of these fixtures are league games and of those six, four of them are at Deepdale. We also have long distance away games at Plymouth and Portsmouth to negotiate and the small matter of a Carabao Cup 4th round tie against Arsenal at Deepdale. So plenty of action in the next three weeks or so with a packed schedule which sees North End play Saturday, Tuesday, Saturday, Wednesday, Saturday, Wednesday and Saturday. Seven games in twenty two days will certainly require every squad member to be on their mettle if North End are to make progress.

On Saturday lunchtime Mark Robins brings his Coventry City side to Deepdale after an indifferent start which sees the Sky Blues one place below North End in the Championship table. Coventry have won two and drawn two of their nine games so far this season. Away from home they are yet to win having drawn two and lost two of the four games on their travels. North End, of course, have taken seven points from the three home games under Hecky and have not conceded a goal in those games. Mind you, as we all know, the Championship is littered with results that do not go the way of the form book and North End can expect a tough game from the visitors as they also look to climb the Championship table. The game is live on Sky, as most games seem to be these days, and although these lunchtime kick offs can sometimes end 0-0 I don`t think this game will be without goals.

On Tuesday evening Johannes Thorup brings his Norwich City side to Deepdale in what is a ridiculously long trek for the travelling fans on a Tuesday evening. Just what the fixture computer is fed to produce these long away games at night is anyones guess, but I suppose that is another debate for another day. The Canaries currently sit seventh in the Championship having won four, drawn three and lost two of the nine league games played so far. Away from home they have won two and lost two scoring four goals and conceding five. On paper this looks the tougher of the two fixtures coming up this week but I just feel if North End can win on Saturday the boys will be exactly the right frame of mind for Tuesday evening. Maybe four points from these two game would not be a bad return but I am sure Paul Heckingbottom doesnt see it that way and nor should he.

And finally this week:- Two generations ago our club was in big trouble and looking administration right in the face. Twenty local business men all got together to raise £250,000 (£12,500 each) to save North End. One of those men was John Garratt, who became a Director of North End from those dark days until Baxi arrived in the mid nineties. I had the pleasure of meeting John away at Plymouth in 93 in the days of John Beck. Let me tell you that you could not wish to meet a nicer man. John also sponsored the shirts in the early days of sponsorship and no doubt some fans still have their copy in the wardrobe with Garratts Insurance on the front. A year ago John passed away and on Saturday against Coventry the family are hoping for a minutes applause in the 7th minute (Sir Toms number, obviously.) to remember John. Without John Garratt and the nineteen others we may not have had a club to support. I know the younger fans wont be able to strongly associate with the actions of the 20 but those of us who were there will never forget what those local business men did for Preston North End. On Saturday when the clock on the screen ticks round to 06.01 please show your appreciation in the usual way and to remind John's family, and the other 19, that we will never forget their actions over 40 years ago.

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MATCH PREDICTION -

COVENTRY CITY (H) League - Home Win

NORWICH CITY (H) - League - Score draw

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JR`s HIGH FIVES

Burnley to beat Sheffield Wednesday 8/5

A £5 Stake returns £13.00 on bet365

SEASONS STATS

Returns £24.63 Stake £50.00

Percentage profit+/-loss - 50.74%

Predictions 10 won 2 lost 8