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

[ticklystuff]

WAIT did i ever share pictures of the turtles we had at my last job

this was when they were still babies 🥹

[glitterycvm]

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.

[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!!

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the fox

Chapter 12 of? 4058 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she'd been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

"Good morning beautiful, how was your weekend?" Taehyung says too loudly as he walks into the office.

You glance around but none of your co-workers even acknowledge his entrance. He practically glides across the foyer to stand with you behind the front desk.

"Any messages for me today?" He asks grabbing your lunch bag, not waiting for you.

"My weekend was... interesting. Mostly lazy I guess. We can talk about it more at lunch." You answer his first question knowing he isn't really listening as he reads Jimin's note to him.

"He wants to meet me?" Taehyung asks, eyes wide.

"Well, the pack wants to invite my only friend outside the house to spend winter solstice with us... but yeah you can interpret that as him specifically wanting to meet you if you like." You shrug.

He sticks his tongue out at your response, deciding you were just jealous of the connection he and Jimin were clearly forming through their two post-it interactions. Then he steals your lunch away and continues into the office. You hope he is putting it in the fridge, but you don't remain optimistic.

It's a long day, Taehyung has a meeting at lunch, although you aren't overly sure what kind of meeting an office mail guy would need to be privy to. You eat your lunch quietly by yourself and return to the desk 20 minutes early to try and keep yourself busy. The torturous day drags to an end, and you finally head home.

You are the first to arrive.

As usual Jungkook is in the living room on his switch, although no one had had chance to reset the furniture, so he still lay on the blow-up mattress. His ears perk up as you walk through, but he makes no move to look away from his game, so you continue into the kitchen. The fridge is empty save a few bottles of juice, the cupboards have only a few cans of soup, and the bread in the container is going mouldy.

Apparently no one had had a chance to go grocery shopping this weekend.

You pull out your phone and create a new order in the supermarket app, setting the delivery time for the next evening. You try to remember everybody’s preferences, including Hobi's seeing as he was practically living at the cottage now. He claimed it was all to do with his creative process, but the whole house could hear what he and Yoongi were talking about in hushed voices in the early hours of the morning. The walls were reasonably thin.

"Kookie, anything you want on the food shop?" You call.

"Can't do the food shop until Joonie is paid on Wednesday." He calls back.

"Don't be silly, we have no food. I'm doing one now. What do you want?"

The bunny finally pauses his game and shuffles into the kitchen. He glances around at all the open cupboard doors and thinks for a few moments.

"I guess I'd like some carrot gummies... If they aren't too much." He says sheepishly.

"Of course they aren't too much, they're only sweets."

"Yeah but sweets aren't necessities, sometimes we have to go without extras." He shrugs.

"Jungkook? Are you guys struggling with money?" You ask.

It hadn't occurred to you before. You knew they weren't exactly living like kings, but they never seemed to want for anything... And they took you in without a second thought to themselves. They kept everybody fed and Yoongi and Namjoon were always working. You knew how stressed Namjoon was, but you thought it was because of deadlines not financials.

"Um... I guess so. I didn't know they hadn't mentioned it... Please don't tell them I told you. Namjoon is so proud, and all he wants is to take care of us. He is doing such a great job I can't believe I've made you think he can't look after us." Jungkook starts to hyperventilate. "He is going to be mad at me."

"Namjoon won't be mad at you Kookie." You try to re-assure him, moving to him carefully. "I won't mention it to him if it makes you feel better. Just help me with the food shop and we won't mention this conversation again okay?"

He nods and sniffles. You put a hand on his shoulder, and he lent into the warmth. He then plucks your phone from your hand a starts adding all the things you've forgotten to the shop. Each item being the cheapest option available, no name brand items anywhere to be seen. After he is finished he presses order and hands the phone back to you.

"What about dinner tonight?" You ask.

"I think Yoongi is using the last of his advance to bring home Chinese food." He answers.

You send a message to the group chat to tell them you put an order in so they could add anything they wanted. You were met with some resistance by Namjoon who insisted he would give you the money back as soon as he got home but you refused. Making up something about doing the food shop as long as you weren't paying rent, refusing to back down until he gave in.

He tried again briefly when he got home but eventually accepted his fate when Yoongi told him to shut as he lay the dinner out on the table.

It was a rare night when Hoseok hadn't joined you for the evening, instead having plans with his parents. It was oddly quiet when he wasn't there to fill in the silences. His cheerful laugh usually echoes off the walls. The house felt a little bit like it did that night Jungkook spent in the hospital, but nobody addressed it, instead blitzing through little anecdotes about their days to try and fill the space.

"Oh! Taehuyng said he would love to come for winter solstice, if that's still okay?" You look across at Jungkook and he shakes his to make sure your earlier conversation doesn't resurface.

"Of course it's okay, we love having company." Namjoon says the smile on his face genuine.

You study his face closer than you ever had before. His dark circles were getting worse by the day, fighting his need to hibernate in order to keep the pack afloat. His hair is frazzled and desperate need of a cut. And his beard is patchy and rough. Your heartaches that you didn't realise how badly the stress was getting to him sooner.

"Hobi is joining us too." Yoongi says through his spoonful of noodles.

He is met with a chorus of 'duh' that has him questioning why he bothered speaking in the first place. The rest of the evening they walk you through all of their traditions for the solstice. They start with a huge meal at sundown, filled with meats, pastries, and dessert. It sounded delicious and had your mouth watering at the thought. Then they would go up on the hill in the back garden and watch the stars if it were a clear night.

They'd light a bonfire and let go of all the things that had happened over the past year, lighting symbols of their previous misfortunes. Bonfires were common on solstice, but your husband had never liked the smell, and your parents deemed them too dangerous.

After the bonfire they would then make origami stars with their wish for their next year and keep them all in a jar together. It sounded so romantic.

As Namjoon spoke you watched Jungkook's face light up, knowing this would be his first solstice with them too. It seemed odd to picture just Namjoon and Yoongi starting these traditions together. You didn’t know the story of how they became a couple, but neither seemed to be so romantically inclined. Their love for each other was evident in their little touches and hushed moments. But wishes in jars seemed too much.

Still, you were more than excited to spend this holiday with them. It was less than a week away and you only had three more days of work until you would be given time off to spend at home. The winter solstice allowed for two weeks off to spend the time with family.

Your husband had never bothered taking the time away, owning his own company meant he never had any spare time. you'd always have a nice meal, just the two of you, but then he would be straight back to work.

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach all week at the thought of actually having a big celebration.

The rest of the week work continued to drag by but Taehuyng made sure he was around for every subsequent lunch to cheer you up just a little.

Every day when you went home something about the house was different. Instead of playing on his switch all day, Jungkook had taken to watching DIY videos and making little ornaments out of scrap paper. He had strung paper stars to the sealing on Tuesday, using Namjoon's old unedited manuscripts. On Wednesday he had made hundreds of little snowflakes out of his comic books that he had finished with. Thursday you came home after a half day to Jungkook covered in papercuts trying to make paper swans.

He had frustrated tears in his eyes as he throw another crumpled ball onto the floor, landing in a pile of about twenty failed attempts. On the table sat two completed swans that looked perfect. You shuffle noisily over to him, making sure he can hear you coming before you sit on the floor next to him. Namjoon had finally moved the blow-up mattress back to the loft yesterday, but no one had replaced the sofas yet.

"Having trouble?" You ask.

You pick up one of the crumpled pieces of paper and smooth it back out until it's useable again.

"It looked so easy in the tutorial..." He grumbled. Falling back onto the floor dramatically.

"Well you managed it twice, so you are getting somewhere." You shrug, absentmindedly folding the paper in your hands.

"They took me an hour each." He sniffles.

You finish twisting the neck on the bird in your hands and place it on his forehead. His eyes open and he looks inward and up, crossing his eyes to see what you had given him. When he realises what you've done he springs up and grabs the two swans from the table to make sure you didn't cheat.

"How did you do that?" He asks in awe.

"I had a lot of spare time at school... let’s just say I had no friends. Did you want me to teach you?"

He nods enthusiastically, pushing his stack of fresh paper towards you. Today’s choice seems to be homemade recycled paper. Likely old, shredded documents. It was tougher than regular card stock to fold and explained at least half of his issues, but you decided against pointing it out. Instead walking him steadily though each fold for a couple of birds until he felt confident doing it himself.

The two of you had an army of swans surrounding you when Hoseok let himself in.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asks looking around at the colourful array coating the table.

"No, but can you start putting these up around the house? Maybe hang them with the stars?" You ask, handing him a bunch.

"Yes mam." He salutes and takes them from you.

He tries to make them even with the stars. The whole room looked like a grade school class room when the three of you had finished but it also had a touch of magic to it. When Namjoon came home he brought a little shrub with him to act as a ceremonial offering for the holiday and each member of the house placed their gifts underneath.

It was easy to tell who brought each pile of gifts. Jungkook's were evidently handmade. Jimin's were tied with parcel string and had hand drawn hearts on the tags. Namjoon's wrapping skills were awful, with the tape peeling away at the edges. Yoongi's on the other hand were meticulously wrapped. Hobi's were mostly just made of tape, they were going to require scissors to cut.

You had tried to make each of yours match the men. You were nervous about the presents suddenly worried you had perhaps spent too much. You had bought them before your conversation with Jungkook and had used some of the money left by your husband so you could thank them properly. Really they had meant to be goodbye presents until Yoongi had talked you into staying through the holidays.

You were still considering new apartments you could move to in the new year, but with each new day you spent at the cottage you found your will to leave slipping away. You spent much more time thinking about Jimin and what Yoongi had said and how that made you feel. You also thought about the others and what you really wanted. You had been so sure you were ready to be alone. But maybe that was never the problem with your previous life.

On Friday everyone had a lazy morning. No one surfaced from their rooms until 11am. Namjoon didn't make an appearance until Yoongi opened the door to Jungkook's room and blew the smell of freshly made pancakes in, luring the bear slowly to the table. You all ate your brunch happily, munching quietly as you enjoyed the sweet treat. In the afternoon Namjoon finally got dressed and declared he would be going to brave the supermarkets in order to pick up the remainder of the supplies they would need for the feast on Sunday.

You offer to go with him, and he accepts. Although you hadn't realised quite how vicious this experience was going to be. The store had a line halfway around the building and Namjoon just laughed your shock off as if this was normal.

"I hope you're wearing enough layers." He says glancing at your puffy coat.

"How are you so okay with this. It's one day, are all these people insane?" You ask.

"This is normal for this time of year... Have you never been shopping at solstice?"

"No, I guess I've never had to."

Your family had people to do this. And your husband would've never let you go grocery shopping with him or whomever he had sent. You weren't supposed to do anything so menial.

The line shuffles forward every so often when somebody leaves. Shopping trollies filled to the brim with online orders and last-minute presents. You're freezing after half an hour on the outside, the building doing very little to shelter you from the chilly wind. It would be at least another half an hour before you reached the safety of the foyer.

You glance up at Namjoon, but he seems unphased by the harsh weather. As a bear it probably came with the genes. He notices you staring and turns back to look at you.

"Shit, Y/N your cheeks are really pink... Are you that cold?" He looks around as if a solution might appear out of thin air.

"It's okay, it's not too much longer." You put on a brave face and smile at him.

"I'd say go sit in the car, but I forgot to fill it up..."

His eyes flicker like he is lying but you don't call him on it, you assume he just didn't want to waste extra money.

"Honestly I'll be fine." But your teeth chatter and betray you.

"This might help... If it's okay." He unzips the front of both coats and pulls you into his chest.

He is like a radiator; the heat fills your bones instantly. You melt into his embrace, allowing him to warm every inch of you.

"I'm not going to make you cold am I?" You ask looking up at him.

You hadn't realised how close his face would be to yours until he looks down to speak and his lips are barely a centimetre away. Quickly you look down and bury your face into his cable knit jumper. Missing the blush on his face as you rush to hide yours.

"It's.. um it's hard to make me cold." He coughs awkwardly as his arms encircle you to keep you close. Every so often he takes one arm back to push the cart forward as he shuffles the two of you in the queue.

You chat absently as you move, careful to only turn your face up to look at him when you know he isn't looking at you. The second half of the wait definitely goes a lot quicker now that you are warm and as soon as you are inside he lets you go. The heat drains from you and you shiver as you reacclimatise to your regular temperature.

"I can definitely see why you are Jungkook's favourite cuddle partner." You say as you rezip your coat.

He shuffles awkwardly and redirects your attention to the task at hand. He runs the shopping trip like a military plan of attack. He starts with the ordered food knowing it will take the longest. He leaves you there with strict instructions to text him when it arrives. You salute him jokingly, but he just nods and continues with his mission.

By the time the order arrives he is already halfway through the remainder of the shop. He has a space in the trolley carved out specifically for the order making sure not to crush any of the food. You then follow him around the remainder of the shop watching as he inspected veg and date checked fresh sauces. Having only seen the forgetful and clumsy Namjoon at home, watching this version of him was like he'd been body snatched.

One hour later you were stood at the till as he pulled out all his coupons and finished backing his bags. You were careful as you watched him pack, waiting for your opportunity to strike. As his back turns to check the list one final time, you slide your card into the chip and pin and pay before he can stop you. He starts to argue with you, but you look around and remind him not to make a scene.

He huffs aggressively but takes a hold of the cart and pushes it back to the car. He doesn't speak to you as he opens the door for you to jump into the driver's side. He refuses your help when it comes to packing the bags into the car. You can hear the clang of the cart as he puts it back where it came from, and you start to wonder if you'd pushed it too far this time.

"Namjoon?" You ask tentatively as he slides in next to you.

"Why did you do that? Do you think I can't take care of everybody?" He asks, voice filled with disappointment.

"Of course I think you can take care of everyone." You answer calmly.

"Then why do you keep insisting on paying when that should be my job, to provide for my pack."

"Because someone should provide for you sometimes too." You reach out to touch his hand.

He doesn't pull it back but he doesn't meet your eyes either. He stares dejectedly out of the front window.

"Namjoon, I live in your house rent free, and everyone is so kind, I just want to do something for you guys too. I didn't realise it made you feel bad."

"Everyone lives in our house rent free Y/N not just you. Jimin's job certainly doesn't pay enough for housekeeping and it's not Jungkook has a job."

"But they're your partners, I'm a freeloader." You chuckle trying to lighten the mood.

"You are so much more than a freeloader. Do you not see how happy you make everyone just because we come home to you? Even Jungkook gets sad when you aren't around. He actually whined when I came home first on Wednesday not you."

"Yeah, he really has come around in the last couple days."

"I don't think you quite realise the ability you have to light up a room when you walk into it." He says it to be nice, poetic even, but it just reminds you of things your husband would say.

He and his friends would always talk about how your appearance would change the dynamic in a room, as if that was the best gift you could offer the world. Your presence was enough, no one needed to hear you too. You know it's what Namjoon meant but it still makes you hesitate. He finally meets your eyes when you pause for a little too long.

"Namjoon... that's lovely. But it doesn't appease my guilt of taking what’s not mine and giving nothing back."

"I think we might have to agree to disagree on what you owe us." He says putting the discussion on hold. "We have frozen stuff we should get home."

You make a note to revisit the conversation late, but the opportunity doesn't arise again. The remainder of the afternoon is spent marinating meats and cutting veggies ready for the next couple days.

Taehyung calls around 7pm claiming to be bored at home alone, but you suspect he may just be overeager to meet your friends. You give him the address and immediately he is on his way to the house.

He knocks the door rhythmically, leaving the last two knocks to be completed by someone on the other side. Jimin is practically giddy as he answers the knocks, enjoying this impromptu game that's been created.

The red panda opens the door coming face to face with the great panda for the first time and it feels like electricity sweeps through the room.

"Pretty." Taehyung says.

For the first time since you've meet him it seems like he might've been knocked speechless. Jimin also doesn't speak, he stutters and moves aside so Tae can walk through the door. His cheeks are as red as his hair as he takes a bag from the newcomers hands to help him into the house.

"I've never seen him so flustered." You whisper to Yoongi.

"I know... it's odd. When he met you he wouldn't shut up." He whispers back.

Taehyung seems to snap out of his trance quicker than Jimin when his eyes meet yours.

"Beautiful!" He exclaims sweeping across the room to hug you.

"Put me down Tae." You struggle in his arms as he twirls you around.

"But I missed you today." He pouts but does as he is told.

You introduce him to the room, reaching Jimin just as his voice seems to make a reappearance. He manages to actually ask Taehyung about his job, a question that Taehyung suspiciously dodges the specifics of. They disappear together as Jimin offers him the grand tour.

"Hey, I never got a full tour." Hoseok comments looking at Yoongi.

"You were never supposed to make it outside of the studio." He shrugs.

"Well that's rude. Maybe I'll leave if I'm so unwanted."

Hobi places the knife he'd been using on to the chopping board and swoops dramatically past Yoongi.

"No one said you were unwanted Angel." Yoongi grabs his arm and pulls the human back into his lap.

Yoongi kisses Hobi gently and holds him there, trapped in his embrace, not that Hobi makes any effort to escape.

They were so cute like this. Neither of them was particularly affectionate in public but they were slowly getting more comfortable with showing this side of themselves around the cottage. It was nice to watch their relationship developing past late-night talks and stolen glances.

Namjoon looks at Yoongi with all the love in the world and it doesn't escape your notice when Jungkook looks at them longingly, but it seems more like he is looking at Hoseok than he is at Yoongi.

Dinner is served by 8pm. The table is getting extremely cramped as Taehyung pulls up another chair next to you. Your elbows brush together as you eat, and it's almost too loud as three conversations carry on at once. And you couldn't be happier as you glance around finally able to say you have your own group of friends.

Outside of the fox masterlist

The next few days should be amazing.

Next

Master list

I currently have a request form running for if you want to request one shots and drabbles. Please follow this link to the Google form If you have one you would like to submit. I will be writing these alongside outside of the fox. You can submit for completely new fics or for sequels for fics I've already done

[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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@katverse Despair Pose Pack

@starrysimsie Comforting & Cry It Out

SamsSims - CouchComfortPosePack

@rebouks rebouksbumperpackrandomposes

[sluttyshima]

7 minutes

Warnings: suggestive content (making out, grinding) but no sex

Characters: Shihai Kuroiro x female reader

Words: ~1.6k

AN: repost of a request from my old account.

pspsps @leechlips​ remember this one?

The large, dimly lit closet seemed to brighten the moment that you walked in. Kuroiro’s heart began beating faster, just as it always did whenever he saw you. Your mere existence was enough to turn the normally confident man into a clumsy, stammering mess.

His eyes followed you as you made your way towards him, smiling. Honestly, he had never expected to fall for someone as bright as you. To him, you were the sun - warm and luminous in a world that was filled with far too much darkness. He had always been content in the darkness, comfortable even. It was where he felt safest. But you… for you, he would be willing to step out into the light.

Of course, that was nothing but a fantasy that he could only let himself indulge in for so long. Kuroiro was hopelessly in love with you. Hopeless, because he knew that there was no way that you could ever feel the same about him. There wasn’t a single person on this earth that could come close to deserving you, but there were certainly men who were closer than him.

Still, how could he move on from you when you were so sweet? You always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You showed interest in his life and his well being, asking about his day or what he had done over the weekend. Even when he stumbled over his words, you were always willing to listen to him with rapt attention. Those moments fed into his daydreams, but eventually he had to wake up and realize that he was nothing special to you. He was just another one of your many friends.

The male was so caught up in admiring you, that he didn’t realize how intense his stare had become. When you asked if he was alright, he snapped out of his stupor. Suddenly feeling warm, he looked away. If his skin were lighter, he was sure that he would be blushing.

“We don’t have to do anything, you know,” you said, mistaking his reaction as mere nerves from the current situation that the two of you were in. “We can just sit here and wait until our seven minutes are up. There’s no pressure.”

Kuroiro wanted to kiss you. He wanted to tell you how absolutely beautiful you looked tonight. Wanted to pull you into his arms and hold you there, promising that he would never let you go. He wanted you to be his.

But you weren’t, and you never would be.

You were only here with him because you had drawn his name out of a bowl. It was a juvenile party game, seven minutes in heaven, one that your mutual friends had forced the both of you to play. It wasn’t like you had chosen to be here with him. Mere chance (and perhaps a bit of dumb luck) had brought the two of you together.

“I- I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He hated the way that he stumbled over his words. “I mean, I don’t want you to do anything just because you think I want to.”

Chewing your bottom lip, you searched his face, trying to figure out what he was thinking. “Well, was there something you wanted to do?” Before he can answer, you add, “Who knows, maybe it’s something that I would want to do.”

He would have thought that lying to you would get easier over the years. But here he was, suddenly struggling to come up with a falsity that would make any sense. Nobody in their right mind would turn down this chance with you… so why should he? This would probably be the only time he would ever have an opportunity to kiss you. For once, he wasn’t going to let the moment pass him by.

“I want to kiss you.” Kuroiro blurted out the words before he could second guess himself. Then, hastily, he added, “But only if you want to.”

You take a step closer to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Of course I want to kiss you,” you say. One hand trails up to his neck, your nails gently scratching at his hairline. “Why else do you think I would have set it up so that you and I would end up here together?”

When you had touched him, the man’s hands had automatically come to settle on your hips. But now he froze, letting his arms drop back to his sides. He looks pained as he manages to choke out a few strangled words, “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not meant to be,” you reply, confused. “Kuro, you do know that I’ve had a crush on you for like, a year, right? I thought that you liked me too, until you started avoiding me.”

He stares at you in disbelief. As the silence stretches out between the two of you, you begin to worry that his brain has completely stopped functioning. But just when you’re about to start pounding on the door, thinking that he might need some sort of medical attention, he speaks: “You really like me?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer, giggling nervously. “It’s not like I tried to hide it. Actually, I thought that I had made it pretty obvious. Literally everyone else knows.”

Even with your insistence, Kuroiro isn’t willing to get his hopes up just yet. “Look at yourself, and look at me - the contrast couldn’t be more obvious. You’re a beacon of warmth, exuding nothing but joy and positivity.” Gesturing to himself, he frowns. “Meanwhile, I am a silhouette lurking in the shadows. I would do nothing but cast a pall over your light.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe we would compliment each other well?” You reach for his hand, and he lets you take it. The silver rings that he wears are slightly cold against the warmth of his skin. “I like everything about you, especially the things that make you different from me.”

The last of his reservations begin to fade. He can tell that you’re being completely sincere. As unbelievable as it is to him, you really do like him, darkness and all.

With a slight tug on your hand, Kuroiro pulls you closer. His arm wraps securely around your waist while his thumb and index finger grasp your chin to turn your face towards him. “If you let me kiss you now, things will never be able to go back to the way they were before.”

“I know,” you say. “They’ll be better.”

He chuckles. “Always the optimistic one, aren’t you, love?” Before you can answer, he is leaning down to capture your mouth with his.

All traces of hesitance from before are gone. If there is anything that he is sure of, it’s that he wants this. Wants you. He kisses you with confidence, his lips moving against yours slowly as he savors your softness.

“How much time do you think we have left in here?” he murmurs against your lips, not wanting to break the kiss.

“Not enough,” you retort.

The two of you begin moving with more urgency now. You part your lips for him, an invitation that he readily accepts. His tongue wrestles with yours inside of your mouth, and he groans when you suck the wet muscle.

Kuroiro backs you against the wall of the closet, one hand slipping under the hem of your shirt to grasp the bare flesh of your hip while the other cradles the side of your neck. His knee slots between your legs, providing delicious friction to the area where you need it most. You grind against him, moaning into the kiss.

You flatten your palms against his back, pulling him as close to you as possible. When you tangle the fingers of one hand in his hair and tug, he growls. The sound goes straight to your core, causing you to buck against him.

To your disappointment, he pulls away, chest heaving with his labored breaths. You whine slightly at the loss of him, but he simply chuckles and pulls you into a hug. “You’re mine now, and there will be plenty of time for us to get to know each other more intimately later. But for now,” he leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed and smiling softly. “Just let me hold you. I need to feel you in my arms, so I know that this is real.”

His words cause you to soften in his embrace. You wrap your arms around his waist, and he straightens so that you can lean against his chest. After pressing his lips to your hair in a chaste kiss, he leans his chin on top of your head.

Time ceases to exist. You lose yourself in his warmth, his scent. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, you trail kisses along the exposed skin.

You pull back, however, when you feel him playing with the fingers of your right hand. Looking down, you watch in shock as he removes a ring from his pinky finger, slipping it onto yours instead. Lifting your hand to his lips, he kisses the spot right above the jewelry.

“Please don’t be alarmed, this isn’t meant to be anything so serious as a promise ring or something like that.” He appears sheepish, watching your face to gauge your reaction. “I simply wanted to give you something of mine to wear. You don’t have to wear it of course, if you don’t want to. I would understand-”

Standing on tiptoe, you silence him with a peck to the lips. “Of course I’ll wear it,” you promise, beaming up at him. “Thank you, Kuro.”

“Shihai,” he corrects you. “My girl calls me Shihai.”

His girl.

Finally.

[eddiemunsonspantschain]

Teasing - E.M

Pairing: Eddie Munson x glasses wearing!Reader​

Warnings: Teasing by the Hellfire boys, smut, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it up,bitches), cream pie (again,wrap it up), 18+ only minors will be zapped out of here by the power of Thor

Reader has bad vision but usually wears contacts to avoid being teased. One day, reader loses a contact and is forced to wear their glasses to Hellfire.

You do not have permission to copy, translate or copy my fics onto another website

Hanging out with a bunch of boys wasn’t all it cracked up to be sometimes. While Eddie was the easiest on me the other Hellfire boys were less so. Their teasing never went too far and usually if it seemed to be heading towards too much Eddie was quick to shut them up. Besides, I got my fair few shots in against the boys. Sometimes with Eddie’s assistance. It was Friday, so there was Hellfire tonight. The new freshmen were doing well in their first campaign with Eddie and I could see the adoration on their faces when they looked at him. They had been so nervous and eager when they joined the club but I was proud that Eddie had picked them up. Being a freshman was hard enough as it is. Those two never really got into poking fun at me. Possibly, in fear of Eddie. 

One subject that I had been teased for in the past was clothing. Sometimes when I wore a skirt they would poke fun at me being girly despite the fact I wore tights with them every time. So I had vowed to never, ever wear my glasses to school. On weekends at home I had my glasses but anytime I went out I had my contacts in. I knew the jokes would come if the guys saw my glasses. I didn’t even want to think about what Eddie would think about them. The crush I had on him wouldn’t be able to handle it if he teased me for my glasses. None of them even knew I had bad vision since I always had contacts in. I went to great lengths to make sure I had an extra pair in my bag in case anything happened.

Today felt like any other day. Besides the fact that my contacts were a bit uncomfortable. They were old. I had to switch them out but I had no more pairs at home and didn’t want to touch my emergency pair. After school once Eddie dropped me home I’d be back in my glasses again anyway and mom should have more pairs for me by then. All through the day though the contacts were uncomfortable. I rubbed my eyes a few times, trying to get them to feel less irritated but it only helped mildly before they were uncomfortable again.

The day was almost over at least. I was fed up with the feeling of the contacts though and decided to flush them with a bit of water. That sometimes helped. Before my next class I pushed into the girls bathroom and put my bag on the ground. I washed my hands well before going for my eye. I gently pushed down on the contact, moving it until it popped out before turning the tap on gently. I gently rinsed the small lens in the water before lifting it to put it back into my eye. As I did, the contact rolled and fell off of my finger right into the flowing water of the sink.

“No!” The contact slipped right down into the drain. “Shit!” I whined, shutting off the tap. I grabbed my bag, moving to the sink beside the one I used and placing my bag in it. I rooted around in the inner pocket for my spare contacts and froze. They weren’t there. “What the fuck?” I wondered out loud, frantically looking in each pocket. The contacts were nowhere to be seen. I blinked, trying to remember when I had used them. Two weeks ago. When I told mom I needed another pair. I had to use them as my last pair. I groaned, running my hands over my face. I looked around. Half my vision was fine, half was blurry. I couldn’t play D&D like this. I’d be having to close one eye all the time to even see across the board. I sighed, slowly reaching into the backpack and pulling out my glasses. I always took them with me to school in case something dumb like this ever happened. I reached into my other eye, pulling the contact out and tossing it into the trash. I sighed, unfolding my glasses and sliding them onto my face. I quickly put my bag on my back and left the bathroom.

—-----------------------------------------

It was a miracle I saw none of the guys during my last two classes. I didn’t have those classes with any of them but I hadn’t run into any of them in the hallways. I knew there was no saving me for Hellfire. If I tried to make an excuse not to play, it would make them curious and Eddie would be concerned. If I didn’t show up at all I’d probably have Eddie at my house coming to check on me. There was no point. So when it came time for Hellfire, I slowly made my way to the drama room. Never before had I been hesitant to go to Hellfire. I pushed the door open, descending into the Hellfire room and going to my seat at Eddie’s left. The boys were chatting as per usual. I sat down and took out my binder for D&D, realizing it had gone quiet. When I looked up all the boys were staring at me.

“What?” I asked them.

“Who are you?!” Jeff immediately screamed.

I rolled my eyes at the giggles at the table. The only one not there was Eddie which meant I was doomed for right now. “Jeff, stop!” I whined.

“What’s your name, stranger?”

“You know my name, asshole. Y/N.” I snapped.

“Noooo our Y/N doesn’t have four eyes. Just two.” Gareth giggled as he tapped the side of my frames.

I swatted at his hand. “Fuck off, Emerson.” I grumbled.

“I think they look nice…” Dustin cut in quietly, shrinking a little under the gaze of Gareth, Jess and Aaron.

“Thank you, Dustin.” I told him with a small smile. The kid was sweet and at least him and Mike wouldn’t bother me.

The door to the Hellfire room opened. “Sorry, guys. Had to hit the bathroom.” Eddie announces as he walked around the long table to get to his throne.

“Dungeon Master, we have an intruder.” Aaron snickered to himself.

“Or it’s a doopleganger.” Gareth added. I crossed my arms over my chest and scoffed.

“I think I’m on Eddie’s team for the rest of this campaign. Fuck you guys. I’m only helping Dustin and Mike.” I snapped at them, not even risking looking at Eddie.

It seemed I had no choice when calloused fingers gently grabbed my chin and turned my head. Eddie smiled softly and shrugged. “I think it looks cute.” He answered, letting go of my chin.

“Cute?” Jeff questioned with a raised brow.

“Yeah. Cute. Kinda sexy even. Like a sexy librarian vibe.” Eddie told him, “And considering that Y/N is the most attractive one at this table besides yours truly every day, I think you all should zip it.” Eddie looked at me and smirked. “Happy to have you on my team though, princess. Now, let’s get playing.”

I tried to ignore the fire in my face.

—------------------------------------------------------------

True to my word, I didn’t help Gareth, Jeff or Aaron at all that evening. I only helped Dustin and Mike. It even resulted in Jeff’s character dying in the campaign. I grinned at him accompanying Eddie’s devious cackle as he knocked Jeff’s character figurine over. He gave Jeff a simple: perhaps you shouldn’t piss off your healer.

After the game was over, the guys said goodbye and headed out with their things. I stayed behind like usual to help Eddie cleanup from the night. I packed away my things before grabbing a trash bag and tossing cans of soda alongside candy wrappers into it. “Thank you for the help with the guys, by the way. You didn’t have to go so far with what you said but I appreciate the backup.” I told Eddie as I leaned across the table to grab an empty can. 

Eddie stopped his movements as he folded up the playing field. “What?” He asked me.

I figured that what Eddie had said was just said in exaggeration to get the guys off of my back. Not that any of it was actually true. I shrugged my shoulders. “The whole sexy thing that you said. I know you were just trying to get the guys off of my back.” I murmured.

Eddie stared back at me before gently setting down the playing field. He walked around the table, taking the bag of garbage from me. “Y/N, Y/N,” He sighed. I squeaked as suddenly I was lifted onto the table. I looked up at Eddie curiously. He nudged my knees apart, standing between them. His lips slotted against mine quickly. His kiss was harsh and heated, sending my head spinning as I kissed him back. His hands gently rested on my hips, tongue teasing against my lower lip. I whimpered, a growl coming from deep in Eddie’s chest in response. He pulled away for a second before leaning in, teeth nipping at my lower lip. “I meant every word. God, you know how often the guys tease me about you?” He chuckled, “The glasses are doing it for me, babe. You look so fucking hot in them. You always do. The guys have been on my ass about doing something for ages.” He admitted, a pink flush settling over his cheeks. His thumbs gently rubbed at my hips. He smiled softly, reaching and pushing my glasses up on top of my head before kissing me slower and deeper this time. I reached up, gently taking his face in my hands as I kissed him back. His body pressed closer as I wiggled towards the edge of the table more to feel his body against mine.

“Took you long enough.” I mumbled against his lips, smiling when he laughed.

“Is it better to move the glasses before I kiss you or what?” He asked, placing gentle kisses on my lips.

“Definitely move them. Don’t want them in the way.” I answered, “Not that I plan on wearing them around you guys regularly now. Not after that.”

“Not even if I give you something every time you wear them?”

“Like a kiss?”

“Mm, something like that.” He grinned, pressing a gentle kiss against my throat before one of his hands teased my inner thigh.

A gasp left my lips and heat settled over my face. “Eddie,” I breathed, whining at the kiss to my throat again. 

“God, please do that again.” He groaned and picked his head back up to kiss me deeply. 

“You know how to make it happen again.” I challenged before thinking about it.

A second later Eddie was on his knees. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this,” He grinned up at me, pulling at the laces on my sneakers before pulling them off of my feet. 

“Oh, my god.” I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re that eager?”

“Yes!” Eddie answered, kissing my knee gently. “If it’s going too fast-”

“Eddie,”

“Yeah?”

“Keep going.”

Eddie stared at me before a grin spread over his lips, his hands moving to the button of my jeans and popping them open before working the jeans down over my thighs. “God, I love your fucking thighs. Just wanna bite them.” He groaned softly, nuzzling his face against my inner thigh. A second later, his teeth sank into the supple flesh and I moaned. His warm tongue laved over the new indentations in my skin. He then worked his way up, leaving behind kisses and tiny bites on my thighs as he moved. I opened my legs wider, leaning back on my hands as I watched him. I bit my lip, groaning softly as he pressed a kiss over my clothed pussy. A second later his teeth latched onto the waistband of my panties, tugging them down. His hands sought out the back of them and I lifted my ass off the table so he could remove them further. Eddie moved down, still using his mouth as he got my panties off of my ankles. When he sat up, they were still between his teeth. He took them from his teeth and grinned, shoving them into his front pocket. 

“I’m never getting those back, huh?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“Nope.” He laughed before moving back between my thighs. His nose nuzzled against my thigh and he groaned softly. “Such a pretty thing. Fuck, I coulda been doing this for so long. I’m gonna have to make up for lost time, princess.” Eddie babbled, his finger moving between my folds. A soft whine left my lips as I wiggled my hips, needing more. He spread my wetness over my folds and gently over my clit before leaning in and licking a long stripe from my needy hole to the sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the feeling of his tongue against me. Then it was like he was a starving man. His tongue quickly lapped between my legs, devouring me like he had never had food in his fucking life. The whines and moans fell louder from my lips as I rocked my hips against his face. Eddie’s hands tightly gripped my thighs, trying to prevent me from going too far from him with my movements. One hand disappeared from my leg and his finger quickly sank into me. I squealed his name, ignoring the chuckle the sound I made pulled from him. He pumped his finger in time with his tongue flicking across my clit. My body felt hot as my orgasm careened toward me faster and faster. My chest heaved, feeling over stimulated and at the same time wanting more from him at once. 

“Eddie!” I whined, “P-Please, I need- I need-” I gasped, unable to get the words out. Eddie’s head lifted from between my thighs and looked at me curiously.

“Tell me what you need, baby. I’ll give it to you.” He purred, “You’re being so good for me.”

“Y-You, please. Please!” I gasped.

Eddie was on his feet in a second. His finger pulled from me and I whined at the loss. Said finger was in his mouth a second later, groaning as he sucked my juices off of his finger. “Fuck, princess. You taste like Heaven.” He groaned, kissing me hard. 

I moaned against his lips, immediately pawing at his jeans. I found the hard outline of his cock through his jeans, gently rubbing it as my other hand popped the button of his jeans open.I smirked as he moaned against my lips, his hips moving forward looking for more. I pulled down his zipper a second later before using both hands to tug his jeans down. His tongue tangled with mine as I parted my lips, groaning tasting myself on his tongue. I pushed his boxers down, feeling his hands help me push both offending materials down further to expose his length to me. My hand immediately found him, stroking him slowly. I grinned as Eddie broke our kiss and moaned, head tilting down onto my shoulder as he cursed. I gently nudged him back before leaning down, letting a glob of spit free to run down his length. I gathered my spit, using it to work his length with my hand. 

“Jesus Christ, baby.” Eddie groaned, watching my hand work along his length. He lifted his head, gripping my chin again as he had before. “Open.” He growled. I opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out for him. He leaned in and spat into my mouth. “Swallow it. There ya go, good girl.” He groaned as he watched me swallow it. “You’re mine. All mine, my dirty girl. Fuck, such a good girl.” He groaned, kissing me hard. “I need to be in you, princess. Please? Let daddy in.” He breathed against my lips. 

“Please, please Eddie.” I moaned, my hand working him quicker. Eddie quickly moved my hand off of his length. He grabbed at my thighs, pulling my legs around his hips. He reached back between us, teasing the red tip of his leaking cock against my folds before pushing into me. A choked moan left my lips at the feeling of Eddie stretching my walls. I had never felt so full before in my life. 

“There ya go, sweetheart. Taking me so fucking good. Like I was fucking made to be inside you.” He moaned, scattering kisses across my chest and neck before searching out my lips again. I panted against his lips, adjusting to his size. I whimpered and shifted my hips after a few seconds, reaching for his Hellfire shirt. 

“Off.” I whimpered, tugging at the offending material before nipping at his lower lip.

Eddie breathed a laugh and quickly shed his Hellfire shirt. “Scratch me up, sweetheart. I wanna see angry red lines on my back cause of you.” He purred, kissing me deeply. His hips pulled back and I moaned at the feeling of him moving inside me. A second later his hips snapped back into mine, burning himself deeply in me again. Eddie started a relentless pace, the table under us squeaking in protest at his movements. 

As Eddie had requested, my hands found home at his shoulder blades as my arms tucked against his ribs. One of his hands rested on the groaning table while his other gripped the underside of my thigh hard enough I thought it’d leave bruises. I moaned his name in his ear, cursing as his length pushed into my relentlessly. I felt my face flush hearing his soft pants and moans as he thrusted harder into me. I cursed, digging my nails into his skin at the change and whined. The tightness coiling in my belly was getting tighter and tighter as he fucked me into the table. “Fuck, Eddie. I’m gonna cum, baby. Please,” I moaned, rocking my hips against his as he thrusted roughly into me. “You feel so good inside me, handsome. I wanna feel you cum inside me.” I whined, grinning at the look on his face.

“Fuck me, princess. You can’t talk to me like that, I’ll blow my load right now.” He whined, hair wild and pupils blown out with lust. His plush lips were red from all the kisses shared between us. He pressed his forehead against mine. “You want me to cum in you, baby? You need to cum for me first.” He growled softly, pulling his head from mine. He reached between us and my hips bucked up at the feeling of his thumb circling over my clit. I whined his name, feeling him hit that spot inside of me that made me see stars. I cried out his name as my orgasm washed over me seconds later, my nails dragging down across his back down to his ass. I gripped it hard as he fucked into me harder, my name falling from his lips as I bit my lip hard to keep quiet. My walls fluttered around his length and I watched as his thrusts grew sloppy. “You came so good for me, baby. God damn, I’m-” His words dissolved into a throaty moan. I gripped his ass harder as my legs fell off of him fully, urging him into me as I silently begged him for what I asked for. Eddie’s hips stuttered as warmth filled me, my name falling from his lips in a delicious moan as he used me to milk all he had into me until he stilled. 

The only sound in the room now was the two of us panting as we tried to catch our breaths. All I could see was Eddie, literally. I forgot he had moved my glasses. I reached up for them, feeling nothing on top of my head. I turned to look behind me and Eddie laughed. He reached behind me and produced my glasses, gently putting them back on my face. “I didn’t even notice you knocked those off my head.” I murmured with a shy smile. 

“Oops,” He chuckled, kissing me gently. “Fuck,” He breathed when he pulled back and looked at me. “I’m serious, babe. The glasses are…fuck.” He murmured, biting his lower lip as he looked at me.

I felt my face turn red, tucking my face against his neck and whining softly. “Stop!” I laughed, wrapping my legs back around him.

“I won’t. I’ll tell you how hot and adorable you are every fucking day… If you’ll have me.” Eddie murmured, pressing an assault of kisses against my head and shoulder. 

I pulled back from his neck, adjusting my glasses on the bridge of my nose before huffing at him. “Eddie.” I motioned between us, “Of course I’ll have you.” 

Eddie barked out a laugh and I rolled my eyes. “I thought I’d check this wasn’t a one off.”

“No, you’re stuck with me.” I nodded firmly and grinned.

“Good.” Eddie grinned, kissing me lovingly.

As he pulled free from me we both groaned at the sensation. A second later Eddie was cleaning himself off using my panties before tucking himself into his jeans and the panties back into his pocket. He ran out of the room and came back with some wet and dry paper towels. I held my hand out for them and he swatted it away, stepping between my legs and starting to clean me. I blushed at his kindness, especially as he commented something about how it was his mess and he’d clean it. After he finished cleaning me, he tossed the paper towels and looked at me. I blushed at the smile that appeared on his face and soon his eyes drifted down my body before realization hit him. “Man, I didn’t even get to see your bare tits. Damn it.” Eddie pouted as he suddenly realized my Hellfire shirt was still intact.

I laughed, shaking my head at him and kissing his chin. “Take me home and they’re all yours.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Your house or mine?”

“Yours, handsome.”

“I hope you know you aren’t leaving then.” He grinned, kissing me gently. “You can wear my clothes tomorrow. It’s a saturday.”

I laughed and nodded. “Sounds like a deal.” I murmured back.

“Let’s go, my cute librarian.” Eddie grinned, grabbing my jeans and handing them to me before rushing to put everything away.

“Please don’t call me that again!” I laughed, slapping him with my jeans.

The two of us walked out of school hand in hand towards his van for a weekend of fun.

[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. ♥

[amnotaqueen]

He Is Not A Man Of His Word

We still have not gone on our weekend trip to New Mexico. Spending time with his family keeps being put off so that he can take care of more important, more valuable things. The Bible says to let your yes mean yes and your no mean no. My husband doesn't follow this principle. With us, he will say he is going to do something with us and weeks, months later he has not done it. He acts like he doesn't even remember what he has said he would do. Then, when I ask him if we are going to do what he said, he'll typically respond with, "Why not?"

We were supposed to leave Friday last week. When we were supposed to be leaving, he texts me to say that there was a work emergency. I had spent the previous couple days, prepping for our trip, shopping, preparing meals, cleaning, packing. I was ready to go when I got his text. Then, he says that we can leave on Wednesday instead. I told him Tuesday would be better for me. He acted like he was agreeable. Then, some time later, when I'm trying to figure out if we were actually going to go because he wasn't really acting like he was making arrangements to go, he tells me that we can't leave on Tuesday because he had to be at work on Wednesday because it was someone's last day on Wednesday. This person had put in two weeks notice, or at least a week's notice. So, why had he promised to take us on Tuesday knowing he would want to be at the office for this person's last day on Wednesday? It struck me as very irresponsible and it was very irritating to me.

So, again he says we can leave Friday morning. But guess what? Today, he texts me that we can't leave Friday because he needs to be back on Saturday to have a work-related meeting. I'm highly irritated at this point because I cannot make plans and properly prepare when he can't even stick to a date for when we would be leaving. Now, we are supposed to be leaving tomorrow (Thursday) by noon. Even our son had been getting his hopes up to go somewhere before school starts next week. And I hardly ever go anywhere besides to our place of worship, a local grocery store, or park, or track to exercise. He keeps building up anticipation and excitement only to let us down and disappoint us with his failure to follow through on his word. His word means doodly squat.

What really irks me is that he is planning to go alone to the UK to attend a friend's wedding. I have been told that I cannot go. My husband either just doesn't want me to go because he doesn't want me to embarrass him in front of his Nigerian friends, or his friends to whom he has been bad mouthing me don't want me to come and of course he picks his friends over me any day, hands down. Or maybe he is just not willing to pay the expense of taking me and our son.

He had stated he would take my son, but not me when I complained that he was getting a vacation and traveling to the UK while I was staying home to care for our son as usual. Truth is, I don't trust him to take adequate care of our son if he took him to the UK without me. He would be so distracted and absorbed with socializing that he wouldn't make sure our son was well fed, well rested, comforted if need be. He would not be watched properly to make sure he stayed safe or that he wasn't irritating people with his poor social skills. Then he would want to spank him with a belt or switch when he embarrasses him in front of his Nigerian friends. And I doubt there would be a soul among them who would speak against any unfair, harsh treatment my son would endure at his hands. Needless to say, I didn't agree to him taking our son. I won't get a break when he will. And the full brunt will be on me while he is gone. He doesn't think I need a break because he doesn't think I do anything at all.

Also, on this UK trip of his, he is supposed to be gone 9 days. Nine days consecutively he is going to give to his friend. He will not miss it. He will not cancel it. He will be there no matter what. If I'm wrong I'll admit it, but I don't believe I am going to be wrong. Can't honor 2.5 days with his son and I, but he will definitely make it to the UK by himself to celebrate with friends on the date set forth the first time. He does little things with us, only after being begged. Big things, he does when his family or friends are involved.

It's very noticeable to me and when I mention it to him how it hurts me and makes me feel cheated, he says nothing, tries to act like it's all in my head. When that doesn't work, he resorts to treating me harshly, yelling at me, sucking his teeth at me, making up accusations against me that he just makes up out of thin air. Or, if he cant think of anything to make up against me, he will simply accuse me of whatever I'm accusing him of.

[coachmayseq]

Kids parties are getting out of hand, writes Maysaa Fahour, who has a few suggestions for reforming these extravagant events.

I’ve done the math. I have three kids and therefore have had to endure 20 of their (painful) birthday parties.

Today I say no more!

Hi, I’m Maysaa and I am not addicted to birthday parties. In fact, I can go further than that; I hate them.

There might be some parents reading this and gasping for air, because the very thought of such a nasty comment can send some mummy’s up the wall. But the truth of the matter is that we are all free to hold our own opinions and this is mine.

I do come armed with reasons to support my case.

First, children’s birthdays cost a trillion dollars. This is due to several reasons, such as:

McDonald’s $7 party packages no longer exist or are not socially acceptable due to the fact that we are all healthy in 2015 and need to make sure our kids eat only gluten free and grain fed specialties.

Because it’s “not kind” to invite only close friends from your classroom, you end up with 25 excited children who you’ve never met, at a place that cost you an arm and a leg.

Then there is the social interaction. It’s hard work ladies, really. Maybe I take things too seriously, but I almost feel like I need a photo board to match up kid and parent, because when everyone has been dropped off to attend my child’s birthday, the onus is me. This freaks me out.

Imagine the things I need to remember: allergies, who is picking up whom and, to keep the party running smoothly, the variety of personalities to keep an eye out for: the hyper one, the naughty one, sooky one, over-hugger and the all-around whiner.

Two words: goody bags. It’s a term that should be renamed to Bad-Toys-That-Break-in-10-minutes-and-then-the-mum-needs-to-explain-that-to-the-screaming-child. I think the person that invented this idea was the owner of some plastics factory in China.

When the big day arrives, my kid (the birthday child) always manages to have a meltdown. Usually, it is during the party, but a couple of times it has been before, during and after – just for good measure. Imagine all that pressure of having your friends over, eating lots of cake and getting presents. Sigh

Themed parties are a nemesis. Forgive my resoluteness but I find Pinterest and certain event stylists Facebook pages nauseating. I once fell for this trick. My then five-year-old was a mad fan of Diego (the cousin of Dora the Explorer), so I made him a Diego party where everything meticulously matched.

I have never been able to let go of the pain.

Then there is the RSVP-on-time issue. It gives me flashbacks to my wedding. People are really crap at RSVPing and it stresses out the whole process because the venue calls me with threats and then there are two choices:

“Maybe everyone will rock up without letting me know so I should go ahead and book for 25.”

or

“I’m only going to book for who RSVPed and bad luck.”

Note: It’s super awkward to reject a cute kid carrying a present because their lazy parent did not RSVP.

Can I add that I also hate going to parties of random kids from the classroom? It’s painful. First, there is the buying of the gift. I don’t know the birthday child from a bar of soap. And then I find it crazy to allow my kids to continually go to birthday parties on the weekend. It spoils family weekend time and more importantly I end up acting as a taxi.

Some people take birthday parties so seriously that I envisage the child might need a reality check by the time he/she is 12. Imagine the pressure of maintaining the level of always having a beautifully styled and themed party – mini cake pops and 1,000 different sweet treats.

Parents have already got a lot on their plates; I choose not to go down this path.

I’m going to take a flashback to one of my birthday parties: the year was 1993. My mother made me one of those upside-down pineapple cakes and my friends (who were also my neighbors) and I watched “Video Hits” and then rode our bikes and rollerblades.

That was it.

So I am starting a new trend. I’m taking it right back to 1993 and I am going to say: no more gigantic themed parties with 100 children. I have told my kids they can choose 3–5 of their “best friends” and they can decide on an activity they’d like to do. This is logical, feasible and most importantly less stressful.

I tried it out this year on my son who turned 10. Guess what? Best thing I ever did.

It was a happy birthday.

Maysaa was born in Lebanon, but when she was four her parents picked up their five kids and moved to Melbourne, where she lived for 24 years. In 2012, with three kids in tow, her little family moved to Dubai, and the magical, crazy, unique and sandy adventure began. Her time in Dubai had far too much detail to explain in a tweet, so she began www.365daysindubai.com for family and friends to keep up with her journey. When she’s not blogging, she’s baking (and eating!) while dreaming of her next travel destination (she’s ticked 30 off her list so far). Maysaa completed a bachelor of education and taught for four years before she became a full-time stay-at-home mum. She was also the chairperson of the Islamic Museum of Australia.