#and he said he might play saturday twice (at the end) and didn’t

[josephtrohman]

that was the most insane best emo night i EVER could have hoped for even with its downsides

[inknopewetrust]

𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐅𝐥𝐲

Summary: Tyler’s always wanted to show you something he loved—it just took some bad weather for it to appear. [Tyler Owens x Reader] [WC:2.6k}

Warnings: language, college-aged Tyler & reader, fluff, romance, this is a comedy? Idk folks. No smut though—sry :/. Just good ole fashion kissin’ in the rain. And what if I said this story was my real life experience, then what?

Quick Links: Masterlist [including other twisters fics]

“Where are we going?”

The tires of the truck were clunking along the rocky path to… well, nowhere. Thick trees surrounded you; the sun barely peeking through them as it began to decline in the sky and yet the truck kept tumbling along.

Shit. You thought for a brief moment as he didn’t reply. He might murder me.

“I told you,” his voice rang through your mind like a pinball machine. “It’s a surprise.”

“What if I said I didn’t like surprises?”

Tyler glanced at you as the truck hit a rough patch. Your hand was white-knuckling the grab handle above the window and your face was torn up in concern for the locale.

“I’d say, ‘honey’,” he put a hand on your clothed thigh. “I ain’t gonna murder you.”

“Well now that makes me think you are gonna murder me.”

Tyler laughed, squeezing your thigh joyously.

He was a maniac—Tyler Owens.

But he was also many things you did not know of yet. The first time you laid eyes on him was around eight months back when he walked in two minutes before the chemistry lecture. Every seat in the room was nearly filled except for the lone seat on the inside of the lecture hall beside you.

And when he sat there, you couldn’t focus on one goddamn thing.

It was silly—being twenty-one and having a crush on a guy in your science class. You weren’t in high school anymore but you sure as hell felt like it. When he asked for an eraser, you were too eager to provide it. One day he forgot his computer so he asked for some paper in the notebook you elected to use.

Each day you’d arrive a minute earlier than before with a childish hope that he would too and you’d be able to talk to him, learn about him. You weren’t in the same lab section so it was growing increasingly difficult to manifest a semblance of potential when it only occurred twice a week for an hour and fifteen minutes.

Fuck college schedules, is what you had concluded when he wouldn’t show up twenty minutes early to class.

Yet fate had a funny way of dictating what happens when.

Three months into class, your roommate suggested getting out and heading to a frat party one Saturday night and it shouldn’t have been a surprise to see him there. And out of some kindness, he went out of his way to say hi to his “lecture buddy” who’d helped him in times of need.

Every class that followed grew something in you. He came early to lecture to talk to you, joking about anything but the subject and going on and on about what he wanted to do when he graduated. His smile was contagious, as with his laugh. Bellowing and loud; Tyler Owens was everyone’s friend and everyone’s crush and you happened to be lucky enough to sit beside him until it was all over.

The semester ended and your interactions with Tyler ceased.

And it made you feel a little crazy for feeling down and out about your luck. Your roommates and friends tried everything to get you on the market: going to parties, joining strange clubs, playing trivia at the bar on Wednesday nights but nothing.

It was all nothing until something caught your eye.

You saw a flier for a meteorology seminar with a guest speaker from your local news. The premise wasn’t overly exciting for any one student at the university but for you, it was interesting enough to attend on a vacant Tuesday evening.

Like fate had promised before, it dealt you a winning hand.

Tyler spotted you as you walked through the door and waved you down. In your dumps, you forgot to think his attendance was a possibility even after he mentioned time and time again that he’d love to be on television, that he’d die to help people protect themselves.

So when he got ready to leave after the lecture, you weren’t going to die without facing a fear. You had to protect yourself from another six weeks of imaginary mourning and asked for his number.

And six weeks later you concluded he was going to murder you in some remote location in the plains of Arkansas.

“I’m not gonna murder you, alright?” He chuckled. His eyes were illuminated with a mischievous glow you couldn’t escape. You saw his eyes in dreams and knew you’d never want to imagine a day without them.

Fuck, you thought. It was way too early to be thinking of that.

“Then tell me!” You looked over at him with reason. “This road is so shitty I can’t imagine what’s on the other end!”

“Paradise, baby!” He smiled. “When I was a kid, my pops used to take me and my brother down here to go fishing. It’s this picnic area that I think,” he glanced at you with raised eyebrows, “no one else knows about. So don’t go runnin’ and tellin all them about this, ok?”

Oh.

It was personal.

“I won’t,” you promised.

“When my grandpa died I was,” he thought back on it as if it were long ago. “Nine and I came here with my mom and just sat. We stared out at the water and watched the ducks and the birds fly over until the sun went down. This was his spot and he passed it on to me.”

You suddenly felt an urge of regret pass over you as the comments from before soured.

“Tyler,” you said solemnly. “I didn’t—“

He brushed the nonverbal apology away.

“It’s alright,” he reassured. “There are plenty of reasons why you could have felt that way.”

It was heartwarming that Tyler didn’t dismiss your fears. There were so many guys, barely men, who would have called you crazy for a lot less. Tyler never made you feel that way.

Being with him was like chasing a high of the greatest strengths. Everything he did revolved around his ability to be free and willing to do what scared him the most and it was enchanting.

You could feel the sparks hit your heart.

“I’ve never taken anyone there before.”

“No?”

“You’d be the first.”

The two of you let that sit in the air as the road became more suitable for driving. The smoothness was welcome as his admission settled between you.

The first. He thought you special enough to be the first person to witness this place. You could have been ten feet tall at that moment. Never had anyone ever made you feel so special.

As the roads improved, the clearings of trees and bushes began to open up to a wider area with a paved lot on a taller hill.

It was beautiful.

Only the fairy tales could conjure a place like that. Billowing pines and lush greens on the bank of a river cut off by a large damn. The rushing water filled your ears amidst the squawking of wildlife uninterrupted by human activity.

It was so peaceful, charming.

The sun’s orange rays twinkled down onto the water and made it sparkle. Flowers in bloom, the buzzing of cicadas at the arrival of a hot and early spring warmed your cheeks as Tyler put the truck into park.

He watched you take in your surroundings of pure nature. A slight awe in your eyes, shallow breath at the sights. You were a vision in his favorite place.

“I thought we could have dinner here,” he tipped his head to the back seat where he had plastic Walmart bags full of food, unprepared and prepared for whatever fit your fancy. “And then, if we’re lucky, maybe it will rain.”

“Rain?” You turned to meet his eyes and they crinkled at the sides. Endearing, charming—just like this place.

Tyler hummed. “You mean to say you’ve never heard of rain?”

His words quickly became a joke. You rolled your eyes, hitting his chest with the back of your hand. It was solid under your touch and you were reminded that he was real. It wasn’t a fairytale and you were very much living it.

“Ha-ha,” you replied dryly.

“I’ll keep that one as a surprise.”

“I checked the weather before we left and,” you pointed to the sky. “No rain.”

Tyler unbuckled himself and opened his door.

“They just don’t see what I do.”

“And what’s that?” You asked him but he shut the door, moving to the backseat to take out the bags of items he procured, and then as ever the gentleman, opened your own door.

“Magic.”

You laughed but he was being serious. His eyes still gleamed with the same sly nature he was born with, but his touch was comfort. Hands carefully guiding you to a spot that he had meticulously planned out—even if this appeared to be a spur of the moment outing for you.

Everything was planned. Tyler wasn’t going to take just anyone to this spot. He’d be a fool to lie and say he hadn’t spoken to his mother about his plans just to hear her perspective on whether it was creepy, brilliant, or just plain sad.

However, he carried on to face his fears of bringing someone he liked to a place near-sacred to him. Tyler wasn’t a fool of love, he just hadn’t found anyone worth sharing these bits of him. And he also didn’t expect the feeling to come about so quickly.

Those fears he let simmer never truly came about in the reality he lived.

You were smitten. Absolutely fallen into this little spot in this tiny corner of the world with a man who was opening up before you. Tyler made the puzzle pieces of a perfect date fit together wonderfully.

The food, the drinks, the atmosphere—he hit an apex of the paragon of “partner,” “boyfriend,” or “lover.”

And you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as the sun began to truly fade.

You took a sip of your drink, coming down from a high of laughter at a story Tyler shared at his brother’s detriment. The sky was a shimmering shade of reds and deepening blues now; orange melting away for the sake of night.

“No rain,” you pointed out. He shrugged his shoulders, moving from a lounging position on the worn blanket to a lying one. His arms perched behind his head.

Tyler stared at the stars beginning to form.

He could see the shapes of the clouds, the movement quickening and the air cooling. It was as special as this place, his talent for finding the storms. Whether they brew inside or out, he found them and chased them with a passion—unrelenting and fierce. He sought the thrill.

“The night’s not over yet,” he said coolly. “Don’t count me out.”

“I’m not counting you out,” you defended, moving scraps of discarded food away from you to lay next to him. You shuffled to get comfortable in his vicinity.

“How often do you stargaze?” Tyler asked.

“Not often. I don’t think there’s an opportunity for it when I have nowhere to go.”

He agreed with a grunt. “I think you’re lookin’ in the wrong spots, honey.”

Oh those godforsaken nicknames. The country in him seeped out at their mention.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he removed his arms from the back of his head and pointed to the now appearing stars the darker it became. “See here?”

You moved closer. “Not really.”

“There,” he pointed again. “Right there in the middle of those two clouds.”

There were two stories at play here: one of him proving that rain was coming in the guise of stars and the second of you trying to be aloof in order for him to touch you.

You’d spent the last hour with him. Watching him talk, eat, smile, and laugh at anything that brought him joy. Those lips begged you to kiss them. They beckoned you like a ship lost at sea and in the clouds, the water would find it.

You shook your head innocently.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at, Ty.”

“Here,” he took your hand in his and pointed to the stars. “Look.”

In the sky above, a faint outline of the Little Dipper appeared in your vision. You smiled lightly. His hand with his finger pointing was still outstretched and connected to yours which made it grow wider.

You were giddy.

Tyler moved his finger to fully cup your hand but as you kept looking at the sky, he looked at you. You could feel his eyes on you, the turn of his face and the low breaths he released through his nose.

“What else do you see?” He asked lowly.

You breathed in deeply. It was just too beautiful to explain one thing. The clouds grew thicker, dense in the night as light was swallowed up by the moon. The air was now cool enough to send a chill down your spine and wish the blanket was more than a thin excuse for a sheet.

“It’s getting cloudy,” you observed. “There are more stars and it’s cooling off.”

“Anything else?”

“It’s just beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is.”

“I’m can—“

You stopped mid-sentence at the sensation that hit your cheek.

It wasn’t air or breath or a bug or grass but a wetness that could have come from only one place: the sky. You waited for another to fall and it did not a second later. A third and fourth drop followed until it was a hundred drops or more into a steady downpour.

You scoffed in disbelief, sitting up to feel the rain in your palms and Tyler sat up too. His laugh was one of joy that followed yours.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed as the water began to drench the area around you and your clothes.

“I told you!” Tyler shouted over the rain falling harder and harder. You blinked at him.

“How’d you know!?”

“Just did!”

“And what’s so magical about getting rained on?” You asked him.

He didn’t have a solid plan if it rained. All he knew is that he had seen this in the movies. A downpour catches two people in the rain and it creates one thing: magic. It’s innocent and daring, carefree and transparent. Rain makes lovers fall in love. It binds them to one spot, one moment in time where all the elements line up to craft one singular point that would forever be cemented in their memory.

“I don’t know,” he confessed.

Tyler positioned one hand to lean on behind your back while the other cupped your face. The rain dropped onto his hand but you were warm against the coldness of his hands. Your eyes glistened at him as the movies described.

“I don’t know what’s so magical about it.”

“Me either.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked him. It wasn’t a question, per se. He was going to kiss you.

Tyler nodded his head, leaning in to meet your lips as the rain fell harder around you both. The sound of the rain disappeared when his lips met yours. Only the beat of your heart, the rush of your blood flooded your ears and body. You lifted a hand to grip his arm as he tilted his head, using his leverage to position you the way he wanted and deepened the kiss.

You could feel the tendrils of a story weaving in your bones. The place, the time, the kiss… it was a fairytale.

You dropped everything and kissed him in the pouring rain in a spot now forever implanted in your history, you felt the sparks fly higher.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and your reactions motivate us greatly!

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

Hello love your blog. How often did the otmaa children meet up with their cousin ella? were they close family members

Hello anon!!! I’m so glad you love my blog! Thank you so much for viewing it also as I try hard to make it a nice space!

Princess Elisabeth of Hesse was OTMA’s maternal first cousin (Ella’s father was siblings with OTMA’s mother Alix (Empress Alexandra Feodorovna)) and both the parents of the girls and the girls were very close. Imagine if you had a favorite cousin who lived in another country within somewhat close proximity, would you want to visit them as much as you could? Well that was the case for the girls.

They would meet up about once or twice a year, sometimes they wouldn’t meet up every year like in 1902, 1900, or 1898 and when they didn’t meet at all. Here are some photos of the girls with Ella to put into context how often they met.

1896 (family gathering at Ilinskoe, Ella and Olga were both about a year old)

1897 (Hessian Royal Family gathering, Olga and Ella were about 3 and Tatiana was a baby)

1899 (Family gathering at Darmstadt, Ella and Olga were about 4, Tatiana was 2, and Maria was a baby but she is not pictured in or with Ella on this trip)

1901 (Meeting at the Winter Palace, Ella and Olga were about 6, Tatiana and Maria were about 4 and 2, Anastasia was not born yet)

1903 (this would’ve been their last meeting as Ella died while on a trip to Skiernewice Poland with the Russian Imperial Family.)

Ella and OTMA were VERY close, they were each others favorite playmates and sometimes felt more like sisters than cousins, Margaretta Eagar (nanny to OTMA) has fond memories of the girls together in 1903:

“Where Princess Ella was, no angry disputes could exist. She was so sweet and just that the other children always gave in to her arbitration. Looking back on her short life I often wonder why we did not see that she was quite too good for this world, her fit companions were the angels. She was a regular little mother, and was never so happy as with the "tiny cousin," as she called Anastasie.”

“It was a pretty sight to see her riding with the two eldest cousins in the riding-school; she mounted on a great white horse and her cousins on little ponies. She rode wonderfully well, and would take either of the little ones before her on the saddle, and give them a ride round the school.”

“One day she and Tatiana were wonderfully busy and mysterious, running in and out of the rooms, and exploding into laughter every now and then. In the evening after they were in bed Tatiana took from under her pillow a little box which dear cousin Ella had prepared for her. This contained some little coloured stones which they had picked out of the gravel the day before, some bits of matches, luminous ends, of course, the sand-paper off a match-box and some tissue paper. This was a toy which they had prepared. After Tatiana was in bed, if she felt lonely she was to sit up in bed, light a match upon the sand-paper, set fire to the tissue paper, and by its light to play with the stones. Well, of course, that could not be allowed, and the poor little Princess was overwhelmed when I explained to her that they might all have been burned in their beds.”

“The little Princess was full of life and fun. I never remember to have seen her in higher spirits than she was on Saturday evening. She prepared and carried out an innocent little practical joke on her father and the Empress. She asked me to put her three eldest cousins in her bed, and leave little Anastasie alone in her bedroom. "When auntie Alix and papa come," said the child, "auntie Alix will be looking everywhere for her children, and papa will not know how he has got four." Accordingly it was done, and I stepped into the corridor to ask the Empress and the Grand Duke to be very much surprised. They were, of course, exceedingly surprised, and the Empress pretended to be much frightened, to the child's great delight. You could hear her laughter all through the house, as one by one the cousins were disclosed.”

Source

They (the elder girls on particular) also wrote to eachother and sent eachother gifts like photos of each other or books or small trinkets. Here is an example of one of the items:

(Photograph of Ella’s mother (Princess Victoria Melita, later Grand Duchess Viktoria Feodorovna) and three aunts (Princesses Beatrice, Alexandra and Marie, later Queen of Romania) Inscribed “My Love Olga Dear, Ella”

I hope this gives you a rough estimate on how close the group was and how much both Ella and OTMA meant to each other. Thank you for asking!

Also another great resource for all things Ella is @princesselisabethofhesse (who I got a lot of these photos from 🤍) where I learned a lot about Ella, please go check out her blog as it is a great resource and can answer a lot more in detail about anything Ella related!

[440mxs-wife]

That Day in the Park

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader. Other Characters: Santiago “Pope” García, Will Miller, Benny Miller, Isabella Morales, Mollie, Hannah and Elena (OFC’s), Dalton (OMC mentioned)

Word Count: 6521

Warnings: Mutual Pining, mention of alcohol consumption, minor playground injury, medical issue in reader’s family, unwanted attention from co-worker (not involving the reader), angst due to misunderstanding but FLUFFFFFY ending because I must live up to my name ;)

Summary: You work as a receptionist for United Auto Shop, where Frankie Morales is one of the mechanics. Your friends encourage you to get a little closer to Frankie by asking him out, and his friends are telling him the same. By chance, you meet Frankie and his daughter, Isabella, at the park one Saturday afternoon. Could this be the start of something more than friendship?

A/N: This is my first time writing for this character, but I may write more for him or Pedro’s other characters in the future. Enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"United Auto Shop, how may I help you?" you answered.

The person on the other end asked about making an appointment to have his vehicle examined. He gave you the year, make, model and other pertinent details about his car, which you jotted down on the legal pad next to your coffee.

"Our schedule is full for today, but we are open until noon tomorrow if you'd like to bring it in at that time. Otherwise, it will be Monday before one of our specialists can take a look," you explained as you reviewed the shop calendar. "Let me see....oh, I have a slot open on Monday, 11:00 a.m., if that works for you."

While you waited for the customer to check his schedule, one of the mechanics, Francisco (aka Frankie) Morales emerged from the garage. He was wiping his hands on a red shop towel when he approached your desk. He leaned over the edge to see what you were writing. You looked up and playfully pushed his head back with two fingers, causing him to chuckle.

"Perfect! Let me get your name and number and you'll be all set!" you beamed as you wrote down the information. "Thank you, sir, and we'll see you on Monday at 11:00 a.m.," you confirmed. After hanging up the phone, you grinned at the man in front of you. "What's up, Frankie?"

"Nada, taking a quick break that's all. Why didn't you schedule the customer for today? We can more than handle it," he wondered.

"I know, but it's Friday, and the start of your weekend with Isabella. I thought you should get out of here on time for once. You know, start the celebrating a little early," you explained with a shrug. "By the way, what are your plans with her this weekend?"

Frankie's eyes softened at hearing the reason behind your scheduling choice. You knew how important his time was with his daughter, that it meant everything to him. Therefore, your decision to move the customer's appointment to Monday shouldn't have been a surprise. "That's so thoughtful of you, gracias. I'm thinking about taking Isabella to the zoo or the park this weekend," he remarked, his smile still firmly in place.

"That sounds like fun! I have a couple of friends coming over tonight, but I'll probably spend the rest of the weekend cleaning and doing laundry," you mentioned.

"Whoa, sounds sexy," Frankie teased.

"Oh, Sr. Morales, you have no idea!" you exclaimed, playing along. "Especially when--" you held up your index finger as the sound of the ringing phone interrupted your banter with Frankie. "United Auto Shop, how may I help you?" you greeted the caller. Frankie rapped his knuckles twice on your desk, winked at you, then walked back into the main shop area.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that evening, your apartment

"So, how's Mr. Hottie Mechanic?" your friend, Mollie, smirked.

You rolled your eyes. "Don't call him that," you groaned. "He's fine, it's his weekend to be with his daughter. Said he might take her to the park or the zoo," you explained.

"Hmm, maybe you should just accidentally decide to check out the lions and the elephants on the off-chance you'll run into him," Hannah suggested with a mischievous smile.

"Seriously, Hannah? You too? Like I don't get enough about this with Mollie. There is nothing going on with Frankie and me other than friendship," you declared emphatically.

Not that you didn't desperately wish otherwise. You and Frankie had a good working relationship, and you knew that a workplace romance would do nothing but jeopardize that. Besides, there were no indications that Frankie thought of you as anything more than a friend. For that reason, you kept your feelings for him locked away and hidden from anyone's view.

"Come on, he's single and thanks to you breaking up with Dalton the Jerk-Face, now you're single too. You're always telling us how sweet and kind Frankie is, in addition to being freaking gorgeous," Mollie remarked.

"Yeah, all we're saying is to give things a chance, you never know unless you try. We just want to see you happy," Hannah affirmed as she threw an arm around your shoulder.

You could see in their eyes that despite their teasing, Hannah and Mollie really did have your best interests at heart. Even if they went about it in an annoying manner. "I know, and I love you both for it. If I see an opportunity, with Frankie, I'll take it. Okay?" you proposed, to which they nodded. "All right. Now that we have that settled, what movie are we going to watch?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Yo, 'Fish! I'm taking your last cold beer!" Benny called from the kitchen.

Frankie was upstairs getting his daughter settled for the night when Benny informed him of the beer shortage. He had given Isabella her bath, put her in pajamas and set her up with a Disney movie. He tucked her in, kissed her cheek, and whispered "goodnight, mija" before rejoining his friends. "Then you'd better call Pope and ask him to bring more when he comes over," Frankie replied on his way down the stairs.

"Already did that. Isabella in bed?" Will asked.

"Yeah, she's up there watching 'Tangled' for about the four-thousandth time," Frankie chuckled. "Should be asleep in no time, probably even before Rapunzel meets Flynn Ryder."

"What are your plans for the weekend?" Benny asked.

"I'm thinking of taking her to the park or the zoo tomorrow," Frankie mentioned.

"Perfect day for either one, maybe you'll have time to do both," Will suggested.

Frankie heard a knock at the door and went to answer it, only to find Santiago "Pope" García on the other side. "Hey, Pope, thanks for picking up more cold beer on the way," Frankie said as he stepped aside to let Santi in to the house.

"Well, I wouldn't have had to, if this tonto hadn't taken your last cerveza fría," Santi retorted. His gaze shifted to Benny, who just rolled his eyes in response.

"So 'Fish, how's work going? Shop been busy?" Will wondered.

"Yeah, and have you asked out that girl yet? You know, the hot one who answers the phone? I mean, the way you talk about her all the time, I'm surprised you haven't done something about it by now," Benny pointed out.

"Guys, it's not like that with her. There's nothing going on with her and me other than friendship," Frankie insisted.

Never mind how much he wished that there was something beyond friendship blooming between you. Ever since you started working at the shop, coming to work has been a bit more bearable for him. Whenever Frankie sees you, there's nearly always a smile on your face that radiates pure sunshine. You consistently treat him and everyone around you with such kindness, which is why it was easy to have feelings for you.

"But why not? You're single and she's single, right? Or is it because she has a boyfriend?" Santi asked.

"She did have one, but they broke up. Wanted to bust his nose, though, because she told me he cheated on her with some chick from the office where he worked. Que idiota," Frankie muttered. Frankie knew that if you were his, you'd never have to worry about him cheating on you. However, he also was aware that you were too good for him, so the opportunity to prove that fact would never come to pass.

"Look, 'Fish, all we want is for you to be happy. If this girl from the shop is your 'happy', then you owe it to yourself and your little girl to find out. You never know until you try, 'mano," Santi remarked, throwing an arm around Frankie's shoulder.

Frankie looked at the other two, seeing them nodding, then back at Santi a long minute before breaking out into laughter. "All right, all right. I'll keep it in mind. If I see an opportunity with her, I'll take it. Okay?" he replied.

"That's all we ask, 'Fish," Santi responded as he tapped his friend's chest a couple of times.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, you woke up to rays of sunlight streaming through your bedroom curtains and birds chirping happily outside your window. The clock said it was just after 9:00 a.m., so you decided to get up and enjoy the day. Dusting and laundry can wait, you thought. It had been a long week, and you deserved to treat yourself.

After you finished showering, you pulled out a pale yellow sundress from your bedroom closet. It had short, fluttery sleeves, small, multi-colored flowers embroidered randomly throughout the fabric, and the hem stopped at about mid-calf. You slipped on your white tennis shoes and grabbed your light-wash, cropped denim jacket from the closet by your door. In your small cross-body purse, you slid your phone and your wallet. Your keys went into the pocket of your jacket as you walked out the door.

Saturday was the day designated for the Farmer's Market in your neighborhood. You wandered through the stalls, checking out the fresh-picked vegetables and mouth-watering baked goods. There were vendors selling home-grown honey along with various flavors of fruit jams and preserves. At the end of it all was your favorite coffee shop that you rarely had a chance to stop at during the week before work. Since it was the weekend, you had time to indulge in an Iced Vanilla Caramel Latte with a strawberry and cream cheese pastry.

You lazily sipped at your coffee while you scrolled through your phone, catching up on current events and your social media. Every once in a while, you glanced at the people passing by while the sun gently caressed your skin. A light breeze kept the temperature at a comfortable level as you enjoyed the rest of your coffee. Once you'd finished your drink, you disposed of the cup and pastry wrapper in a nearby bin and headed for the park.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Daddy, push me on the swings!" Isabella called to Frankie.

"Okay mija, pick one and I'll be right there!" Frankie grinned as his daughter ran ahead of him.

They had been at the zoo for most of the morning, making sure to see all of the animals. They spent a good bit of their time watching the penguins run around like clumsy waiters. On their way out, they stopped at the gift shop, where Frankie bought Isabella a stuffed baby penguin as a souvenir.

Now they were at the park, Isabella giggling as Frankie pushed her on the swing. In between pushes, Frankie kept a watchful eye on his surroundings. During his scan, his eyes landed on a figure sitting on a bench in a pale yellow sundress, scrolling through her phone. Every so often, he saw her smile or laugh to herself. When he looked closer, he realized it was you, in person, at the same park as him and his daughter.

As you thumbed through the memes and videos on your phone, you felt as if there were eyes upon you. When you looked up, there was a man pushing a little girl on the swings and waving at you. Upon closer inspection, you realized it was Frankie Morales, which meant the girl on the swings had to be Isabella. You waved back and mouthed "hello" to him.

All at once, Frankie felt a blow to the stomach that threatened to knock the wind out of him. While his focus was on you, he wasn't paying attention and had missed that Isabella's swing was headed straight for him. It caught him by surprise and connected with his midsection, causing him to double over in pain. He dropped to his knees, the swing barely missing his head this time.

"Oh my God, Frankie! Are you all right?" you exclaimed, rushing over to his side.

Frankie tried to breathe normally, but could only take short, shallow breaths for the moment. "I'm....okay....I....think," he wheezed.

Isabella noticed that her swing was slowing down and that Frankie wasn't pushing her anymore. She turned around and saw her father on the ground, clutching his stomach in pain, so she jumped off the swing and ran to him. "Daddy! Are you okay??" she pleaded, nearly in tears.

"He's going to be fine, sweetie," you assured her. "He just needs a little break for a minute. I'm going to help him up so we can sit on this bench over here. When he stands up, can you take his hand and make sure he gets over there safely?" you asked.

Isabella looked at you and gravely nodded. You assisted Frankie in getting to his feet and when you wrapped your arm around Frankie's right side, his daughter tugged on his left hand. He sat down on the bench, groaning in relief, while you and Isabella joined him.

While you rubbed circles in Frankie's back trying to get him to relax, you looked for something to keep Isabella's thoughts occupied. You looked all around the park and noticed an ice cream vendor several yards away. Hopefully, they also sold beverages, because you could use a bottle of water, and you knew Frankie would benefit from one as well.

As you fished your wallet out of your purse, you could hear how worried Isabella was for her father. You reached over and gently put your hand on her shoulder. "Isabella, honey, your daddy is going to be okay, I promise. Do you know what I think will make him feel better? Look over there," you whispered, pointing at the ice cream truck.

Isabella's deep brown eyes followed your finger and when she saw what you were talking about, her face lit up with joy. "Ice cream, Daddy!" she shrieked then turned to you. "That will make him feel so much better! Me too," she admitted.

You caught Frankie's eye and his face broke out into a warm smile. "Okay, mija, let's get some ice cream," he relented.

When he reached for his wallet, you placed your hand on his arm. "Let me," you remarked softly. "Isabella? Would you like to go with me to the ice cream truck? I might need some help carrying stuff back to this bench," you explained.

Isabella locked eyes with her father, who was nodding his consent. She decided that if he said you were okay, then she would be safe with you. She scrambled off the bench and held out her hand, which you gladly took in yours. "We'll be right back, Daddy," she promised.

"Be a good girl, mija," Frankie cautioned. He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw his little girl's hand in yours, then it skipped again when you shot him a wink over your shoulder. His breathing seemed to become easier while he waited for you and Isabella to return with the refreshments.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were lost in thought while you waited for the ice cream, until you felt a small tug on your hand. A curious look was on Isabella's face as she seemed to be studying yours, likely trying to determine who you were. "How do you know my daddy?" she asked.

"We work at the same auto shop," you answered with a smile. "I answer the phones, and your daddy fixes the cars."

"Oh," she replied, then tilted her head up at you and carefully studied you. After what felt like an eternity, her face broke out into a shy smile. "You're pretty," she blurted out.

You could feel your cheeks getting warm. "Gracias," you responded softly. "And you are a beautiful young lady as well," you commented with a smile.

Isabella giggled and thanked you for the compliment. By this time, your order had been fulfilled, so you handed Isabella her mini-ice cream cone while you carried the ones for you and Frankie. Fortunately, she knew her father's favorite flavor, so you made sure to get him a heaping scoop of it.

By the time you had returned to the bench, Frankie looked like he was breathing much easier. You handed him his ice cream cone and a bottle of water then took a seat beside him. The two of you chatted between bites, as well as took turns keeping watch over Isabella.

To you, it felt so comfortable, so natural, as if things had always been this way between you and Frankie. But of course, it was not that way, and you had to work with her father. Rather than slip up and make things awkward by doing something dumb like admitting your feelings, you decided to say your goodbyes.

Frankie stood up quickly in alarm, despite his injury. "Is everything okay? Do you have to go so soon?" he implored.

"I'm so sorry, I really wish I could stay longer," you lamented.

Me too. "I understand, and I suppose we should get going too, so I can get this one something good for dinner," Frankie chuckled. "Bella, you want to say goodbye, thank her for the ice cream?" he remarked.

Isabella tugged on your hand until you knelt in front of her. "Thank you for the ice cream. Can you come over tomorrow?"

You chuckled softly. "You're very welcome, sweetie. I wish I could come over tomorrow, but I have things to do at my place that will sure keep me busy," you mentioned.

"Okay," Isabella sighed right before launching herself at you and throwing her arms around your neck. "Bye-bye," she mumbled against your shoulder.

Frankie stood there in surprise at his daughter's actions. A few times, he had introduced Isabella to women he'd met, but she hadn't really reacted to them the same way she did to you. Frankie shook his head and gently nudged his daughter. "Come on, mija, time for us to go, too," he stated gently, taking her hand.

"It was very nice to meet you, Isabella," you told her, and she waved at you with her free hand. "Bye, Frankie. See you on Monday," you added as you started walking home.

"Have a good night," he called. You smiled and waved goodbye, then resumed the path back to your apartment.

Isabella tugged on Frankie's hand. "I like her, daddy," she declared.

"Sí, mija. Yo también," he replied with an exhale as he watched you walk away.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

On your walk home, you were second-guessing your decision to end the outing in the park with Frankie and Isabella so early. But it was better to leave early than to accidentally blurt out your feelings for the man. Especially if he didn't return them, which could make things uncomfortable or tense at work.

His daughter was certainly a cutie-pie, with her chestnut curls and deep chocolate eyes, most likely gifted to her by her father. You had no idea what Isabella's mother looked like, but you knew she had to be gorgeous to give birth to such a beautiful child. Yet another reason to keep things at a certain distance with Frankie. He's way out of my league, you thought.

By this time, you had reached your apartment building. On the way up in the elevator, you pondered how to spend the rest of your evening. First, you made yourself a quick dinner of garlic buttered noodles with parmesan cheese sprinkled on top, then changed into comfy clothes. Next, you scrolled through the offerings from Netflix and settled on a series you'd started. It wasn't long before all the fresh air from being in the park caught up to you. Soon your eyes drifted closed, as a certain brown-eyed, curly-haired handsome man in a baseball cap appeared in your dreams.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Estupido. Imbécil, Frankie berated himself. Why didn't he ask you out while he had the chance? It was such a surprise to see you at the park, that he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing. His slip-up earned him a well-placed blow to the midsection that, to be honest, was still causing him a bit of discomfort. It was well worth it, though, to watch how you perfectly you interacted with Isabella and how right away she seemed to latch on to you.

As he drove home, Frankie was vaguely aware of Isabella's chattering in the back seat. He thought she was singing to the radio or babbling to herself until she sounded upset with him. "Mija, what's wrong?" he asked, glancing in the rear-view mirror.

"You're not listening, Daddy! I asked you if you thought she was pretty!" Isabella responded angrily.

"Lo siento, Bella, for not hearing you, but who are you talking about?" he wondered.

Isabella rolled her eyes and huffed loudly in exasperation. "Your lady friend from work," she answered. "Do you like her? Do you think she's pretty?" she repeated.

While he considered his daughter's questions, a soft smile crept across his face. "Sí, mija. Ella es una mujer muy bonita," he grinned. "And yes, I do like her. She's a good friend, too."

His answer seemed to placate his daughter, because a beaming smile quickly replaced the pouty expression on her face. "Good. I like her too. Maybe you should ask her to come over for a playdate!" Isabella exclaimed.

Frankie chuckled at his daughter's choice of words. "Maybe I will sometime, Bella. Right now, you need to decide what you want for supper, and what movie you want to watch," he remarked.

When they reached his house and pulled into the driveway, Isabella was still considering her movie choices. She had narrowed down her food choice to spaghetti, but couldn't decide between "Beauty and the Beast" or "The Little Mermaid". By the time she had her dinner, her bath, and was in her pajamas, she had chosen. It wasn't long, though, before the fresh air caught up with her as well, and she was asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Over the next several weeks, there was a shift between you and Frankie, albeit a gradual one. The two of you started spending your lunch breaks together, taking turns on deciding where to go. There were a couple of diners close by the shop, or you checked out the various food trucks in the city. Frankie would always insist on paying, but you managed to snag a few lunch tickets here and there so he could save his money.

When you were gone for a week visiting your family, Frankie didn't quite know what to do with himself. He missed you like crazy, and lunches were a rather boring affair without you to try out new food choices with him. Even his friends noticed, so they took turns spending their mealtime with Frankie.

The shop hired a woman, Elena, as your temporary fill-in, who barely performed her duties and wasn't very organized. On more than a few nights, he was at the shop until a ridiculously late hour, which he did not appreciate. Luckily, the Miller brothers were able to pitch in and look after Isabella while he was at work. Still, Frankie hated missing out on that time he could've spent calling his daughter.

About the only thing Elena was capable of doing with any effort was flirting with the mechanics, Frankie in particular. While he acknowledged that she was an attractive woman with her long blond hair, piercing green eyes and swaying hips, his heart belonged to you. And the more he thought about it, he realized you likely had Isabella's heart as well.

Frankie tried to make it clear to Elena that he wasn't interested in her by dissuading her at every turn, but she continued to flirt with him. He took a lot of grief from the other mechanics about it, who wondered why he always discouraged her advances. Frankie couldn't tell them that the reason for not wanting to date Elena was that he wanted to go out with you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A couple of days before you were supposed to return from your vacation, you called the shop to speak to the shop manager, Antonio Vargas. Your reason for requesting time off was that your grandmother had a health scare and you were helping take care of things for your family. The visit wasn't supposed to last longer than a week, but the situation had changed. More time off was needed, and for that you had to speak to Antonio about it.

You were surprised when a woman answered the phone, but figured the shop must have hired a temp to answer the phones while you were gone. As Elena was telling you that Antonio wasn't available, you swore you heard Frankie's voice in the background. Your heart rate began to pick up and you smiled at just the thought of him, making you realize how much you missed him.

"Hold on a minute, I'll let you talk to Frankie, and he can have Antonio call you back," Elena muttered. Before she handed him the phone, you heard her tell Frankie not to forget their date after work. Your smile dropped and you heard nothing else after that except the blood pounding in your ears at the thought of Frankie now having a girlfriend.

Frankie was desperately trying to get your attention on the phone. "Hello? Are you there? What's going on, is everything okay?" he frantically asked.

Finally, you snapped out of your haze to answer his questions. You explained the situation with your grandmother, and how you needed some more time off to help your family. "Do you know when Antonio will be back?" you inquired.

"He's just out getting some lunch for us all, so he should be back soon. I'll be sure to tell him you called if you want to check back later," Frankie promised. "I hope everything will be all right with your abuela. Do you know how much longer you'll be out?"

You sighed deeply before answering. "Not sure. All depends on my grandma, but she's a strong lady," you remarked.

"Ah, so that's where you get it from," he chuckled weakly. He wanted so badly to correct your assumptions regarding what you heard. "Listen, about what Elena said--" he started but you interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go, my mom needs me. Thank you, Sr. Morales. I'll call Sr. Vargas later and talk to him. Goodbye," you whispered before quickly hanging up the phone. As soon as the call disconnected, the tears started streaming down your face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Frankie handed the phone back to Elena with a glare, as he was upset about the turn of events with you. Not only would you be out of town for who knew how much longer, but he was going to have to put up with Elena while you were gone. "Why did you do that? Why did you say we were going out on a date after work? I've told you, that's never going to happen," he seethed.

Elena picked up a framed photo from the desk and pointed at you. "This? She is what you're choosing over me?" she asked in shock. "She's nowhere near as gorgeous as I am, probably spends all her time reading, and looks like such a homebody," Elena rolled her eyes as she stood up and walked around the desk. "You're out of her league, and should be with someone like me. I promise I will take care of your every, every need," she added in a sultry voice.

With every word Elena uttered, Frankie could feel himself getting more and more angry. How dare she put you down and insist that she's the better choice? In his eyes, there was no one better than you for him. You were smart, compassionate, generous, had a good sense of humor, and brightened his entire world. The past week without you has been dull and lifeless. There's been no sunshine in his days because he hasn't been able to see your smile. Now he wondered if or when he ever would again.

Frankie saw Elena moving to place her hands on his chest, so he stepped back before she could make contact. When she moved in again, he retreated again and held his hands up. "Stop. Right now. This, you and me, is never going to happen. My heart belongs to her, and nothing you can do or say will change that. This is bordering on harassment, and I'm going to talk to Antonio. I'll recommend to him that we find someone else to answer the phones until she gets back," he remarked.

Elena scoffed at Frankie's veiled threat. "Ha! You really think he's going to believe you over me? We'll see about that," she sneered, turning on her heel but coming to an abrupt stop. She didn't expect to see Antonio standing behind her. Elena had no idea how long he'd been there, watching her interaction with Frankie.

Antonio glared at Elena, his arms crossed over his chest. "I believe that's a very good idea, Morales. Elena, I'll be notifying your temp agency that today is the last day we need you here," he stated firmly.

Elena let out a shrill noise and stomped her way around the desk. She jerked open the desk drawer and yanked her purse out of it. "Don't bother, I quit," she spat out on her way to the door.

Antonio regarded Frankie for a few tense seconds before relaxing his arms and breaking out into a grin. "Man, am I glad she's out of here. She's been chasing after me for a date this whole time," he revealed. "Didn't really even do her job while she was here, either. Some of our long-time customers even told me she was a bit rude to them. I apologized and explained it was only temporary, that it should be resolved by the end of the week when our regular girl is back."

Frankie rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, boss, about that," he started then explained about your phone call. He left out the part where Elena made you think that they were dating and how he could hear the sadness in your voice.

"I'll give her a call, find out how much longer she needs. In the meantime, I'll let the other guys know that we'll need to step up and answer the phones," Antonio declared. He noticed a faraway look in Frankie's eyes, which told him there was more going on than he had witnessed earlier. "Something else on your mind?" he asked.

Frankie nodded. "Coffee?" he offered before heading to Antonio's office with him to discuss it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you talked with Antonio, you explained that you needed another week, then you'd be back to work. He told you not to worry, that they had things handled but they missed you and were looking forward to your return. In truth, you only spent another four days, then drove home to your apartment. You needed the extra time to figure out what to do about Frankie.

Elena and Frankie. That was going to take some getting used to, which was likely to be difficult for you. Best to just ignore them, put them out of your mind and focus on doing your job to the utmost of your ability. Besides, as long as Frankie is happy, and Elena treats Isabella properly, that's all that matters, right?

To make sure your return started on the right foot, you decided to bring in some treats. You had a tradition of baking a cake for Antonio and the other mechanics to celebrate on their birthdays. Perusing the contents of your cupboard, you found a mix for Apple Cinnamon Muffins and Banana Nut Muffins. You gathered your ingredients and utensils, preheated your oven, and got down to work.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Today was the day you were going to return to the shop, and Frankie couldn't be more nervous. After that disastrous phone call, he wasn't sure how the day was going to go, but he knew he needed to talk to you. He had to tell you how much he missed seeing your bright smiling face as you greeted him every morning. Even Isabella had been asking about you, wanting to go to the park nearly every day just in case you would be there. He hated seeing her smile disappear when he reminded her you were out of town on vacation, visiting your family.

When Frankie saw your car in the parking lot, his heart rate picked up and his beaming smile threatened to split his face in two. This was it, he was going to talk to you and clear the air about his so-called relationship with Elena. He wanted to assure you that there was nothing going on between himself and Elena, never had been and never would be. Frankie vowed to be brave and confess to you that his heart always had and always would belong to you.

As he walked into the front office where you were, he could hear snippets of conversation, mostly about food. The other mechanics were crowded around your desk, where two large platters of muffins were sitting. Every once in a while, someone asked a question about your vacation, or mentioned how good it was that you were back.

"Thank you, everyone, it's good to be here. Don't get me wrong, my family is great, but it's not the same as being around this family. Ah, Sr. Morales," you called as soon as your eyes found him. "Good morning, please have a muffin."

Frankie slowly walked up to your desk, all the while trying to determine your mood and how best to start the conversation. "Good morning, it's good to see you," he murmured. His eyes darted around to see if anyone would be listening. Before he could ask to speak with you in private, the phone rang, signifying the start of the work day.

"United Auto Shop, how may I help you?" you asked. Frankie watched as you wrote down the customer's information without a glance in his direction. He backed away from your desk and headed to the shop area. What he didn't see was that your eyes followed him as he retreated, and how you tried to ignore the sting of tears.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn't until around lunch time that Frankie had an opportunity to speak to you without prying eyes or ears around. You were still on a phone call for a customer, but Frankie waited patiently until you were finished. "Something I can help you with, Sr. Morales?" you asked.

Frankie inwardly winced at the formal address, but pushed past those thoughts. "I was wondering if you had any plans for lunch today. I thought we could celebrate your return by checking out that new food truck--" he suggested, but you interrupted.

"Actually, I brought my lunch today. I have some catching up to do here, reorganizing and all. Besides, I figured you'd be having lunch with your girlfriend today and wouldn't have any time for me. Sorry," you explained.

Frankie took off his ball cap to run his hand through his hair in frustration. "If anyone owes any kind of apology, it's me. And about my girlfriend--" you broke in again.

"There's no need for an apology about having a girlfriend, you're certainly entitled to have one. It's not my place to tell you how you to spend your time away from work, or who to associate with. Now, if you'll excuse me--" This time it was his turn to interrupt you.

Frankie replaced his hat on his head and walked around to where you were sitting behind your desk. He dropped to his knees in front of you and took your hands in his. "Cariño, please, there is no girlfriend. Elena, she was chasing after all of us, even Antonio. That day you called, there was no date after work. There was never going to be a date after work that day or any other day," he implored.

"I don't understand, why would she say that?" you whispered.

"Because she was jealous of you, querida. I blocked her at every turn, and let me tell you, she was one determined woman. But she couldn't understand why I wanted to be with a woman that wasn't her," Frankie explained.

"So there is someone else," you remarked with a tinge of bitterness.

A soft smile graced Frankie's face. "Amor," he whispered as he grazed the back of his knuckles across your cheek. His smile grew as you closed your eyes and he felt you lean into his touch. "There is someone else, sí, but you know her very well. It's you, mi tesoro. You hold the key to my heart and also, dare I say, to Isabella's," he murmured. "Please tell me I haven't lost you."

You opened your eyes and took hold of the hand caressing your cheek, then kissed his palm. With a shake of your head, a few of the tears you'd been holding back sprung free and rolled down your face. Frankie gently removed his other hand from yours and brushed away the tears with the pad of his thumb. You gave him a watery smile. "You've had my heart since I met you, Francisco Morales," you whispered. "Um, if that invitation to lunch is still available, I would love to accept."

His hands dropped back to hold yours, then Frankie smiled. "What about the lunch you brought with you today?" he gently teased you.

"Pfft," you scoffed dismissively. "It'll be there for me to have another day. Right now, I would very much like to go out for lunch with you instead," you declared.

"As you wish," Frankie replied. When he stood up, he still had hold of your hands, so when he brought you up out of your chair, you were standing with him. Your faces were so close that a half-step more and you'd be kissing. The same thought must have occurred to Frankie as well, because the next sensation you felt was his lips on yours.

The kiss was a little hesitant at first, almost as if he were asking for permission. When he felt you return his kiss, everything changed. Frankie hungrily dove in to capture your lips with his own, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head to seal the connection. Your mouths moved in tandem, pressing and pulling, Frankie's soft lips driving you crazy. You gasped when you felt his tongue trace the seam of your lips. It created the perfect opportunity to slide it in and explore the inside of your warm mouth.

At the sound of someone's throat clearing, the kiss was broken and the two of you jumped apart like you were caught with your hands in the cookie jar. You and Frankie broke apart to see Antonio standing there, a knowing smirk on his face. "All I can say is, it's about time. There was so much pining going on between the two of you, it's a wonder I don't have a damn forest growing behind the shop," he quipped.

"We're uh....we were um....headed out to lunch, Antonio. If that's all right with you," Frankie stammered.

Antonio playfully rolled his eyes. "Get out of here, you two. And make sure you get some actual food for lunch, and not spend all your time making out," he muttered affectionately.

Frankie let out a laugh, and you joined him. He gazed lovingly at you and held out his elbow. "Shall we, mi amor?" he asked. You nodded, then slipped your arm around his and headed towards the door.

When you passed Antonio, you felt your cheeks grow warm and you ducked your head. Frankie gave him a quick, two-fingered salute, which Antonio returned as he shook his head. Once you were outside, Frankie turned to you and asked, "Where shall we go?"

You squeezed his arm and tilted your head to catch his eyes. "Anywhere, as long as I'm with you," you replied.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@huffle-pissed @phoenixisred​

[nandostateofmind]

I wanted to Lose Alone………..

Being Afraid of Competing………..

I wrote a goal list for 2023. On that list was competing twice for this calendar year. I was so fucking afraid. Mostly afraid because I got my ass handed to me the first tournament I attended and I was really down about it. There’s this thing about me, however, that I hate to be afraid of anything. So, when I’m afraid most of the time I just run directly at it because I would rather go out on my shield, on my own terms. It’s like if you were going to get jumped and have your ass beat anyway, why comply with the ones looking to hurt you? You going to get your ass beat anyway, might as well start swinging and fuck it. You wont win but they not going home saying boy that was easy either. So, with that logic I signed up for the tournament at the last minute. Thursday night I signed up for Saturday.

My wife and daughter wanted to go. I asked them not to. I didn’t want the additional pressure since I felt I was going to lose like and I felt like my victory was in deciding to go at all. So, I asked her if she wouldn’t go. I was going to allow my son to go because, first and foremost he does jiujitsu so he has a better understanding of what he is actually seeing on the mats. Secondly, for my son, I wanted him to understand that doing things despite being afraid is a good thing. I wanted him to understand losing with grace. During the car ride he paused for a moment and asked me, “hey dad are you afraid?” I said to him absolutely I am terrified and my stomach has been hurting for two days thinking about it. I said but I don’t like being afraid ever so I like to go at it head on and win or lose know that I went out there and tried my best regard of the outcome I could be proud of myself for trying my best.

Then there was my friend and sometimes teacher and (apparently as of now) my tournament coach. I didn’t want him to come with me because I lost so poorly the first time out. He came with me to my first tournament and thankfully another of his students came as well. So, with the other student there it took some pressure off of me because even if I lost and he won at least it wasn’t a wasted trip for my friend. This time however, it was only me competing. God bless him because he is definitely going to heaven but this man insisted he would come coach me and went as far as to take a bus to Philadelphia to come coach me through this ordeal. I just didn’t want the pressure of disappointing him twice. I hold him in super high esteem as a human but as a jiujitsu person it really gets crazy. See black belts in jiujitsu are magicians, especially at my academy. Its hard sometimes to even feel like we are practicing the same martial art when you experience what they are doing to perfectly. All of this added to the pressure. I wanted to lose alone.

I have an extremely supportive friend who trains with me assists me on techniques and generally encourages me to continuously improve. He was a recent brown belt recipient and he was feeling the nerves of competition at his new rank. He encouraged me to go out there and try my best. I’m grateful he said that because that what I ultimately did I went out there and tried my best. First match, I went out there and I was so nervous and I zero game plan except to try and score early and give myself a cushion to work for a submission. I told myself just listen to my coach and allow him to be my remote control whatever he says I will attempt to do. I ran, did jumping jacks, and pushups before the match to make sure I could get some of the nerves out. Than the match began, he pulled guard I passed got to side control position scored, went to mount scored, but then I began overthinking. I was swept out of position ended up playing bottom closed guard. Then he passed my guard and I spent the remainder of the minutes remaining making sure he couldn’t score on me since I felt extremely confident he couldn’t submit me. I won on points.

Second match came. Before it began I told my coach I’m just happy I came to compete getting a win in the first match was just a little whipped cream on this situation. He said you know you could win this whole thing, right? We didn’t come here not to lose we came here to win! For the first time since even considering competing I felt like, oh shit I could win this motherfucker! So that’s when the confidence began I stepped on the mats a new man. My coach’s game plan worked magically. I won by submission an Americana from the mount. I rolled off with the fist pump of victory. High fived my son. Hugged my coach. Texted my wife. In the grand scheme of things, it meant nothing. But for my it was a sign that I was getting better and that I conquered that fear even if only for the day. I also got my second stripe on the belt awesome moment for me.

If life works out even close to the way I would like, one day I will be a black belt one day. I will be the new brown belt worried about competing at my new rank. I will be the black belt helping a student at a tournament who is shitting himself. I will be on those mats helping out the new kid feel comfortable and one of the family in the gym like it was done for me by my coach. I hope he’s there the day I get promoted to black belt because some percentage of that was earned by him too. And all the guys and professors at the gym beating my ass all the time making me better with each roll. So maybe I was looking at it wrong I was never going to lose alone even if I had gone by myself I had the whole crew behind me. Like my coach said to me, there’s no losing you either or you learn. But that day I happened to win, I’m grateful.

[benjaminsblog]

Stones & Saviors

This weekend’s activities were sponsored by the letter ‘S’, and I spent it doing some seriously super stuff!

On Friday, I ticked another item off my ‘100 things to do in the UK’ list by visiting Stonehenge. I drove to Salisbury armed with a small picnic (strawberries included) and after a quick wander around the modest visitors centre, I walked a mile-and-a-bit up to the famous site, around it, and back again. Truth be told, it wasn’t as awe-inspiring as I’d hoped – it was certainly cool to see, but it’s definitely a ‘one and done’ kind of activity.

I carried on my way to Southampton to meet Sophie – an ex-Legoland buddy of mine – for a ten-year catch up! When Sophie suggested the renowned Hobbit Pub, I didn’t need any convincing; the place made headlines a while back when it was threatened with legal action unless it changed its name, though evidently some sort of truce was reached as it still stands today. Disappointingly, while the name remains, there isn’t much else of a Middle-Earthy variety – perhaps a result of said lawsuits. Nevertheless, a happy few hours were spent there (and in another nearby pub) before I finally headed back home.

On Saturday, I teamed up with my sister for a long-expected outing – Green Day were in town for their ‘Saviors’ tour! They are God’s my favourite band and although I’ve been lucky enough to see them twice before, both occasions were in 2013 so it was another decade-long reunion of sorts! Green Day were celebrating anniversaries of their own, as their two biggest albums Dookie & American Idiot hit big milestones this year (30 and 20 years old respectively). During their 2013 tour, they made a big to-do of Dookie’s impending 20th and often played the entire album front-to-back; the prospect of this happening for American Idiot had me very excited, as it was the first album I ever bought myself and something of a musical awakening for me.

I got my wish – Dookie and A.I. were played in their entirety, bookended by some of their other hits. They were as polished as ever, and despite being a self-described punk rock band, the overriding vibe of the show was one of love and togetherness; Billie Joe often took the time to thank the sellout crowd for their support, and there was a couple of cool cameos: Billie Joe’s son came onstage to play alongside them for one song, and later on he picked out a pink-haired girl from the crowd who got to sing along and nab a quick selfie before leaping off the front of the stage into the arms of her fellow fans!

I will admit that as the show went on, I struggled a bit with the sound – or rather, the balance of it; I was in no danger of failing to hear them, but it wasn’t always the clearest sound, meaning that sometimes I couldn’t pick out the various sources too well. Certainly, if I didn’t know their music catalogue inside out, I might have gotten lost at certain moments, and any time Billie Joe proclaimed something to the crowd I often couldn’t make it out. But, knowing them for the seasoned professionals they are, I chose not to let it colour my opinion of them and blame it on some poor unnamed sound engineer. Blame the ops!

I stayed over at Hannah’s for a bit more bro-sis time on Sunday; the original plan had been to go to the end-of-the-month pub quiz that she often attends, but thanks to bloody England playing at bloody 5pm, they postponed it ‘til next bloody Sunday! On the bright side, it meant bonus time with Padrig, Hannah’s current house guest. Isn’t he a stunner?!

[thewestern]

Chapter 26

Do you believe in magic? 

Somewhat akin to splitting the atom, spontaneous fermentation brewing is an alchemic practice, bordering on straight-up witchcraft. (Which is to say, they’ve burned ladies at the stake for less.) One wherein man simultaneously assumes and resigns control o’er the forces of nature, albeit for the benefit of all humankind. Or, would it be to his and hers great detriment? What was it Mark Twain said about drinking? That it’s the cause and solution to all of life’s problems. (Words which had sometimes been paraphrased in chalk on the sandwich board under the awning on the curb out front from the Newfy.) I am become hungover.   

Back on the farm, not terribly long after the Stone Rock Boys had bedded down for the morning, the Gang of Four from the New Frontier had themselves awoken on the early side of reason. Before their as-yet unscheduled rendezvous with the boy Wolff, the Mick had quite reluctantly agreed to lead Grace and Zeke on a partially guided tour of the coolship room and the accompanying barrel cellar that Hank had converted from the previous homeowner’s survivalist bunker. Grace was delighted to have her suspicions confirmed regarding the subterranean room’s origins. 

(In a freak occurrence of fatal irony, the previous homeowner sadly passed away in his own survivalist bunker. And would you believe it was on account of he locked himself down there by accident? Most survivalist bunkers lock one way, from the inside, so as to keep any marauding bands of dystopian looters from burglarizing the canned foodstuffs and cache of seeds, which would all but certainly soon become the new currency. However, here was such a hardcore survivalist, that he equipped his bunker with a double-cylinder, computer-activated deadbolt mechanism, which would also seal him from the outside in. His reason being that he didn’t want to be tempted to resurface prematurely into a world that was sure to be hostile to human life. So, anyway, one Saturday afternoon he was down there tinkering on a few things, some routine grouting, mostly — doomsday prepping is a lot like homebrewing, or any other hobby, in so far as there’s a lot of busy work — and he must have pressed the wrong button or something because damned if the titanium-reinforced door didn’t airlock above him. Twenty-five years, the timer was set for. And he hadn’t stocked but a single bite of food, nor a drop of water. That’s supposed to be the final step. [Even if the food is non-perishable, you’d prefer it to be as fresh as possible.] Would you even believe if his AV guy had been scheduled to come by that very afternoon to install the full comms setup, as well as the entertainment system, but damn if nobody came to answer the front door. So it was that our intrepid survivor died twice. First of boredom. Second of thirst. For all we know he might still had been down there, if it weren’t for his then soon-to-be-ex-wife discovering his decomposing body some days later. [It’s the smell that’ll haunt her.] On account of they had been undergoing a trial separation, his now-widow was only just stopping by to get his signature on the last of the divorce papers. If he wasn’t in the house, flat ass planted firmly on the sofa, then she could bet the farm he was down there was playing in his fucking fort. Boy how he hated when she called it that. She never took him or his apocalypse planning seriously. Maybe it was for the best. Their marriage could have never survived the bunker. He would have written her out of the will altogether, had he made one to begin with. [When one has reoriented one’s life entire around the steadfast belief that the world is going to end, like in the fairly short term {nigh}, what then is the use in settling one’s affairs?] On the bright side, though, it would stand to reason that as his legal wife at the time of his untimely demise, wouldn’t she stand to inherit the estate entire? Not so fast, on account of since our story is taking place in a separate property state, rather she had to split the pot four ways with his two asshole daughters and one dickhead son from a previous marriage, which divides out to half of the half she would have gotten in the divorce! Mercifully, she did get the farmhouse, which she promptly put on the market for to cover her considerable loss. As a general rule of real estate, the presence of a level-five survivalist bunker increases the home value least twofold. That is, of course, unless somebody fucking dies in it. [In some states, including this one, sellers must disclose any death{s} that have occured on-property over the previous three year-period.] Then it’s basically moot. Because well it must be some lousy survivalist bunker, ain’t it. Hence in part how come she sold the place to Hank for a song. Some guys are just lucky.)  

Therein the ancient secrets of the ten thousand-year brewing tradition would be fully revealed, firmly placing our pilgrims on a time continuum that spans the millenniums, with the Dawn of Man in the Cradle of Civilization, the Sumerians of Southern Mesopotamia (SoMo), mercantilists in the glorious reign of Holy Roman Emperor Charles V, peasant farmers in the seventeenth century Senne Valley, Hank and Russ in Hank’s garage and so on and so forth to the sixteenth power.

Meanwhile, Kitty would make waffles.

Although she seldom cooked — again, the kitchen was Mick’s dojo — when pressed, she could make a more than passable breakfast, particularly one for soaking up a hangover. Nothing fussy. The breakfast necessities. Some or other such menu of dairy, swine and starch. The latter preferably starting from a box with precise steps and measurements printed on the back. A control recipe from which she may slightly deviate with variable ingredients as so dictated by the scientific method. A dash of cinnamon, a dollop of sour cream or a splash of vanilla extract. 

She paroused Hank’s walk-in pantry for anything semi-perishable which could be combined with the outside groceries they brought along — a half dozen-carton of eggs and a vacuum-sealed package of bacon in a tent-pop cooler. For a presumed-dead man of going on a year, his wares were surprisingly well-stocked. Right at her eye level, beside the spine of a lone cookbook — The Joy of Cooking … For One: Big Flavor in Small Portions — was just what the doctor ordered: an unperforated cardboard container of pancake mix. And there staring back at her was the familiar face of an antebellum mammy with the Yessa Massa smile. Comma get ya griddle cakes while dey’r hot off the stove top nah. Mmm-mm, get’cha sum wahrm syrp to drizzle all up on ‘em. Y’all hurry up nah befuh I battuh dem cheeks wit mah wooden spoon nahu. (The beloved Big Momma Maybelline character is the trademarked intellectual property of the Amish Grains Corporation, a division of ​​Cyclospora Brands. Any reproduction of her likeness without proper consent is expressly prohibited and will be punished with commensurate lashings.)     

Diligently, Kitty checked the expiration date, which they were coming up on a month past. Hank himself used to deride the practice of labeling foodstuffs with so-called By-Dates. Best By, Sell By, Use By, Buy By, By and By; Bye, Bye, Bye. He considered it criminal behavior on behalf of the CPG Cartel to encourage recurring purchases. Next to nuclear proliferation and all these damn boy bands, of course, it’s Food Waste that’s the biggest crisis confronting humanity, he used to say. You know how long it takes a head of lettuce to decompose, in absentia of oxygen? Twenty-five years. About as long as you’ve been alive, young lady. Quarter of a century. And by that time it finally does disintegrate, that leafy green’ll leave behind a methane that’s twenty-something times more powerful a greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. I mean for crying out loud, Kitty, there’s a floating trash patch two-thirds the size of Texas bobbing around the Pacific as we speak. You can see the damned thing from outer space!

Notwithstanding the existence of an garbage archipelago, Kitty had done enough failed volcano science projects to know that baking powder does lose its potency, eventually. But the blood suckers at Big Food would have no doubt accounted for that fact and as such conspired to give themselves a grace period whereby unsuspecting shoppers would have to buy more storebought mix than they would ever possibly need. For heaven’s sake, how could Hank have ever finished a box this large to begin with, not that he’d even started. How many pancakes even is this? The Nutrition Facts (/Datos de Nutrición) say each serving size makes two units of four inches each, diameter she assumed. That radius squared multiplied by pie would make a mega-pancake fifty square inches in area, twenty-five inches the way round, talking circumference. Imagine that. Okay — Earth to Kitty — serving size is a quarter of a cup, or thirty-six grams. Box is thirty two-ounces. That’s nine hundred-some (seven) grams. Over thirty-six is — long division, f’n, f — twenty-five. Times two makes fifty. Fifty flipping pancakes. General Ulysses S. Grant. Half a hundred flapjacks. Oh, farts … it says so right on the back.  

  Anyhow, when and over how long a period was this Single Man supposed to consume fifty pancakes from this Family Size box. He hardly spent any time in that second house anyway. Kitty remembered when she and Mick first stayed for one of her three-day weekends. President's Day, or Was it Martin Luther King? One of those bank holidays they give you on the other side of Christmas, in the grayest stretch of winter, if only to keep postal workers from drive-by shooting their mail routes. Hank had been off scaling up or traversing across or spelunking down some four-dimensional plane in a faraway land for two weeks’ time, and insisted they Use The House, he said, as a token of his thanks for minding the store in his stead. Yea, as if his being here makes any fucking difference anyway, Mick would scoff. By then Hank’d been spending more and more time away, either planning the new production facility, or else off on another of his solo old dude adventures. Indiana Scones, Mick took to calling him to his face, because he loved traveling and breakfast pastries. He’d left the lonely farmhouse key — no chain or even a ring — on his desk next to the ship in the bottle off the starboard bow. On top of a yellow pad of post-its whereupon he’d left a rare-for-him note. 

K+M

Thanks for minding the store. 

XOHO  

At the risk of perpetuating this cycle of gratitude everlasting, whenceupon they returned, Kitty wanted to get Hank a little something to say thanks for letting them Use The House. Casual gift-giving was an important component of her personal culture. Yet what do you get for a man that has at once everything and nothing? A man who has enough expensive wheelie toys to round the curve of a mid-life crisis onto life’s home stretch, no matter the terrain. Who has every book ever written about any adventure ever over or undertaken. (Beside, getting someone a book as a present is poor etiquette, Kitty believed rather staunchly. Awfully presumptive, isn’t it?) Someone who saw his favorite band play on four continents before its founder and reluctant leader died a past-timely death. A man so devoted to his hobby he made it a profession. What do you get a man like that? A bottle of wine? He never drank the stuff. Only skeletons in his cellar. Maybe fetch him another from the janitor’s closet.

  That Hank was hard to shop for was no big deal to Kitty. For a fact, the challenge made the thrill she received from gift-giving all the more fulfilling. You know, she’d read something in a magazine recently — must have been in a waiting room at a doctor’s office, the only place she could have possibly encountered print media — about how experiences were the new possessions. Obviously she couldn’t afford to buy him another first-class round-trip ticket to Timbuktu. (One Wednesday Hank had casually dropped to Kitty that he was Diamond Status, whatever that means.) Nor could she bring Jerry back to life. (Hank had been one of the pious few holdout deadheads who’d outright refused to see any of the GD’s incarnations, PG, which he considered heretical.) But she could make him a breakfast treat. A baker’s dozen cinnamon rolls. The buns themselves came from a dough pre-rolled, canned and mascotted by a claymated Frankenstein’s monster with a crystalline blue male gaze, and the haunting falsetto chortle of a childlike ghost. (The prototype was painstakingly rendered via stop-motion, requiring its five bodies and fifteen decapitated dough heads be rearranged in the frame up to twenty-four times to shoot a single second of real-time footage. Since the early nineties, the beloved advertising character has been brought to life digitally, with the miracle of CGI.) But, Kitty frosted them herself with a homemade, Irish Cream-infused glaze, and topped off with a garnish of glittery green sprinkles. He was so heart-warmed by the kind gesture that he insisted Kitty stay for a toast to their good health over the first half pint of the new More Perfect Double IPA — as so christened by Mick … Hank had wanted to call it, God Exists — freshly kegged this very morning by her betrothed. Never mind that Seven AM is a tad bit on the early side for a Eight Percent ABV, or that you’re on your way to teach the Periodic Table to sixth graders. O, c’mon, Kit. It’s a half of a half. A quarter. 

And so they did.

What a fine memory it was.

###

Although she was blissfully unfamiliar with the term mise en place, Kitty did prefer to have her ingredients, utensils and other cookware prearranged in advance, like how a surgeon would have their instruments pre-sterilized and set out just so, with the corresponding donor organs at the ready for transplant in a little cooler not dissimilar from the one Kitty and the Mick received lightly used as a wedding present from Skip Engel, the Newfy delivery driver. That cooler is there on the marble counter, next to the waffle iron — which one more commonly receives via their wedding registry … although they were one of those meant-to-be type of couples who already proudly owned a waffle iron, so they left it off — with the mixing bowl, whisk, two shapes of spatula (one for flipping, the other for miscellaneous spatulate), measuring cups and spoons organized in descending fractional volumes. Griddle with the nonstick teflon coating that’ll be sure to give you bone cancer. Center-cut bacon strips and a stick of butter which will hopefully do you first. From Hank’s aforementioned refrigerator, Vermont maple syrup that you’d more than happily drown in. (She remembered he’d had that from there last visit.) And from the icebox, wild, Maine blueberries. For our dish this morning, a culinary romp through ye olde New England. The breakfast world is flattening. Two brown eggs, XL Organic. Pair of Free Rangers. Mama Maybelline, bonded there on the cardboard box in a lithographic phantom zone for all time. An additional pinch of baking powder for a little extra leavening, just in case. Her variable ingredient, lemon zest for which to compliment the blueberries. And lastly but not the least— oh fudge, I forgot the mother fucking milk. 

Kitty flung open the fridge in desperation, breaking off the vintage handle clean off its moor, and looked deep into the recesses of the shelves for some variety of I Can’t Believe It’s Not Dairy alternative Hank would no doubt have had stocked. Oh bother … either way it would long since’ve soured. Or does fake milk even have a shelf life? As she considered the potentially broad implications of plant-based pasteurization, basking in the cold hum of the refrigerant vapor, Kitty yet again began to weep. And not for the waffles that never were, neither, should it go without saying. 

Tears in her eyes, Kitty closed the now handleless door and turned back toward the kitchen counter, and promptly dropped the carton of quite possibly expired hemp milk on the Spanish tile floor, whereupon it exploded. 

Seated atop a barstool on the other side of the island, sipping a hot cup of coffee out of one of Hank’s hand-made ceramic mugs, as if she’d brewed the damn pot herself, was Ms. Hildy Wolff. Yep, that’s her alright, styled all immaculately in her country best, riding boots over jeans, a wax canvas coat over a cable knit sweater. Off on a cantor were you, Duchess? Is what it looked like anyway.  

My goodness … I hope I haven’t ruined brunch. Oh, don’t cry, dear. You know the saying. 

I wasn’t. And it’s hemp. 

Ah, how like Henry. Indeed. Always high off something.

Did you know him? 

Henry? 

Yeah, Hank.

Well, yes, of course. Also quite like him, to have never mentioned me. I’m sorry, but do I know you? 

No. I don’t think so. I saw you at his fun—ehr—celebraish— memorial thingy. You’re—

—Yes, but please don’t mention it. When we were already on to talking about you, who must have known him too, if you likewise attended his little gone away party. And I gather you’re staying here somehow in accordance with his will and testament. I saw no sign of a forced entry, anyway. I suppose squatters don’t typically make pancakes. 

Waffles, actualy. And we worked for him, at the Newfy. Well I didn’t. Sometimes I did. The Mi—my husband is the head brewer. Actually, I think I work for you.  

Is that so, actually, you think? How lovely. And in what capacity, may I ask? You’re obviously not one of mine on the fifth floor or elsewhere in marketing. And you’re far too handsome a girl to be an accountant. Human resources, then? No, that too would be a waste. 

English. 

Oh? The humanities. I was close then I suppose. Well, wonderful. I wasn’t aware we had a Department of Literary Studies at Wolffenbrew, Inc. 

Teaching. I’m a teacher. At Collegiate Acade— 

—Oh at SciTech! Of course … well, that truly Is wonderful. But I’m afraid you don’t work for Me, darling. Alas, you work for the public school system. And I’m not a city taxpayer, thank heavens. So in no such sense am I your boss, to be clear. I suppose that would be the principal. I am his boss, however. Such in my capacity as Chairwoman of the Board. May she long live, and he never forget it. In any case, as a fellow female educator myself — or at the very least as your devoted champion [clasping her hands, right over left, to her heart] — I always do try to make the effort to express my utmost gratitude, for what it is you do. So, sincerely, thank you, for all that it is you do. 

You’re welcome?

Kitty never knew quite how to respond when well-to-do types thanked her for being a teacher. It happened more often than you think. 

And you said your husband, was he, was one of Henry’s boys? The teacher and the brewer. How very— quaint. American Gothic, a revival. American Bohemian, maybe more like it. Anyway, sort of an odd couple are you? Compatibility-speaking. Now, I don’t mean in terms of dual income, although— oh, Hildy, stop it. What I mean is strictly from a practical standpoint, in terms of scheduling. As in, you’re off early; he’s hoe late. Well, who am I judge? Especially with regards to an accounting of one’s time spent with her family. Better appraised by quality over quantity, is all I’ll say on the matter. I beg your pardon, but are you expecting? It’s only— I couldn’t help but notice a certain, glow. I can’t imagine the compensation at SciTech is stellar, but the benefits for working mothers are particularly first-rate. You have me to thank for that, personally, not that I’m one to boast. 

How was this very rich lady making such a poor first impression, Kitty wondered. Something in the manner she spoke, like she was trying to talk her way out of a straightjacket. In that way she was faintly reminiscent of Billy, her excitable boy. She even affected the hint of an accent, albeit borderless and cosmopolitan. Suffice it to say her son’s island boy beatboxing had much more soul to it. As to the status of her uterus, Kitty ignored the question.

Have you come for Billy? 

No. Although I understand he also paid a visit to your brewery. 

You could say that. He drove his car through it. 

So I hear. And for that I’m terribly sorry. 

Apology accepted. 

How gracious of you. Motherhood is a lifetime appointment, I’m afraid. If it is indeed so, that you are … with child, then I hope you’re prepared for one excruciatingly painful day, physically, followed by pangs of psychic pain every day thereafter. 

So, I guess the glow wears off, Kitty gathered.  

As for your wall, of course, I’d be delighted to reimburse you for the full cost of repair. However, as is the purpose for my calling on you unannounced, I’d prefer to pay for all four walls and everything within them. I furthermore suspect it’s for this very reason — my stated intention to make you this offer — that Billy attempted his little car stunt, although his logic escapes me.  

I don’t understand. 

Which part? I aim to acquire the New Frontier, darling. The business and, more importantly, the brand. 

Why? 

What do you mean, why? 

Why do you want to buy it? To buy us. 

Oh, yes. Please excuse me. Why, would be the obvious question, wouldn't it? It’s just not one I’m quite accustomed to being asked. Hmm. Why, indeed. Yes, well, as it happens, I myself am being bought out, as it were. Don’t weep for me, though, as this is an outcome I’ve long since courted. I’ll be compensated handsomely, as so will you be I can assure. Originally I had justified this transaction — our mutual — as a means of one ensuring the other by way of exploiting a tax incentive loophole. It’s since been clarified to me they are not correlated. Actually, the takeover of Wolffenbeir by a Chinese concern has nothing at all to do with our storied brewing tradition, nor our beer at all. Are you familiar with Doctor Lupus?  

Sure. He’s up on our wall. Right next to Bertha. 

Ah, the bison! Perhaps you’re not aware of this, but she also belonged to me at one time. What a magnificent animal. I always admired how the cows have horns of their own, which is actually typical of most bovids. Of course, I grew up on a ranch, not terribly far from where we sit. Whatever livestock we had — however perfunctory it was — was dehorned. An abhorrent practice. The cowboys burned them off the calves’ skulls with a red hot iron. But not the bulls. They could keep theirs, if only for appearances I suppose. 

Unable to tell if this was a lament for animal rights or some form of country-fried feminism, Kitty disregarded it thusly.   

But, as for Ezekiel, while his cultural relevancy has regrettably been defanged somewhat stateside, abroad apparently he is an icon of sorts, particularly in the Orient. As such the time value of his intellectual property far exceeds that of the current market capitalization of the legacy business itself, lest depreciation. Can you even imagine? Perhaps I should be flattered. After all he was my creation. Giving birth to him was the career achievement of my life. Still, I can’t help but feel … 

A pregnant pause now. 

Empty? 

Kitty offered her armchair analysis, free gratis, to which Hildy’s brow furrowed — no easy feat for someone of her bone restructure. Not to cast assumptions, but Kitty was pretty sure that Hildy’s kitchen had undergone some remodeling. Wondering as such, she at once felt bad about feeling judgy. Kitty would often offset the private opinions she considered to be toxic by thinking something positive about the person or thing she had thought poorly of just previously. As for Hildy, she looked stunning for a woman her age, a complementary observation albeit backhandedly so, but nonetheless the best Kitty could do considering the circumstances. It was true, Hildy was of the rarified air for women of means who could afford to have work done that had the appearance of effortlessness. 

No, I wouldn’t go so far as to say Empty. Unwhole, how about. 

A cornerstone of Hildy’s success as an executive was her uncanny ability to conversationally agree in principle, without making any due concession.

Did you know him?

Did I know whom, dear? Do you mean Henry? 

No, Elvis. Yes, Hank. Kitty thought. To whom the heck else would I be referring? The presumed dead man whose second house we are occupying presently. She expressed her thinning patience with a facial gesture of her own in the affirmative.  

Hmm. Henry, as I knew him. Although his given name was John, did you know? John the Brewer. Once we were lovers. But only very briefly. Who could ever know him, beside?

You gotta be kidding me, Kitty snickered to herself. Hank could always pick ‘em. And, I mean, the nerve on this woman. We were lovers once! Ha! Who says that? As for the being unknowable part though, Kitty thought, point taken.

So, what do you say? 

As to what? 

I’m sorry. Here I thought I was being obvious when apparently I was being rather opaque. What do you say — saying as they do in a dealmaking scenario — as to the possibility of being acquired. You, by me. 

Kitty didn’t respond right away. There was no repartee to be had between these two people talking over, under and around one another in conversation as somersault.

So …

I’m sorry. I forgot where I was for a second. Does that ever happen to you? 

No. I’m cursed with a constant awareness of my surroundings, I’m afraid. 

Well, Mrs. Wolff,— 

Hildy, please. You know the first name policy at SciTech is another of my brain children. So as to create Buy-in, pupils should feel a sense partnership with their instructors. 

Guiding principle number seventeen, Kitty recited.

Yes! Perhaps it should come as no surprise I had a hand in framing the SciTech Pyramid of Principles. In large part because I’m passionate about ensuring that all stakeholders feel adequately engaged. In point of fact, rather than an outright acquisition, try to approach my proposal as a potential partnership of sorts, between our organizations, and as well between us as female professionals. Not to mention, women in STEM and working mothers, I presume, or otherwise expectant. 

No one’s ever referred to me a professional woman in STEM before. I’m flattered. However, Hildy, I’m not in a position to enter into partnerships on behalf of the brewery. My husband is the proprietor. Like I said, I’m just a teacher. 

And don’t we encourage a mindset of entrepreneurship our among students and educators the same?

GP number three. Why are you doing this? 

You asked me that already. 

But you didn’t answer. 

Does it matter? 

I guess not. 

So, then. What do you say? 

Kitty expected the Mick would have accepted her offer sight unseen. Since Hank, he had talked increasingly about Getting Out. About just such a scenario as This, being their ticket. Oh, yeah, huh? A ticket to where? 

I don’t know. I could get a straight job. I’ve done it before. We could use the money for grad school? Preferably yours, but potentially mine. Who knows, maybe we could both go back? 

No, my dear, we can never go back, she thought. Kitty loved the Mick infinitely — sometimes more than she thought she could bear. That being said — beware of the old, I love you, comma … whom among us — the prospect of investing the meager savings resultant of their modest dual income into his postgraduate education seemed of the low yield, high volatility category. Not the quadrant you want to be in, to be sure. And for her part — having spent, best-case-scenario, a quarter of a lifetime in a classroom — school was out. As in, of session, and as well the question. At least so far as Attending It went.

Which isn’t to say that she had any tangible objection to moving on from the Newfy. When Hank— went away, so to did the essence of the place dissipate, so to speak. The very idea of the New Frontier. It was always His. The man with the business plan. She wasn’t sure if Mick could Sell It with the same … feeling. So why not, then, Sell Out altogether? 

Well, because … maybe I don’t fucking feel like it. Uprooting my entire status quo. Is mine an identity entirely predicated upon a presumed missing gu— oh, what the hell, he’s dead. Hank’s as dead as a doornail. He’s disco, baby. So, is mine an entire identity predicated upon a dead guy’s stupid pipe dream to fuck off to drink beer with people he underpays to be his friends? Perhaps so. But It Is mine, and It’s Not for resale on the secondary market. So, because, maybe go fuck yourself, you, you bitch, Kitty thought.

What if I say no, was how Kitty said it, out loud. 

Momentarily, Hildy considered this. 

I hadn’t considered the possibility.

To reiterate, Hildy was in uncharted territory. As an executive her interactions were most always vetted in advance for certainty of favorable outcome. Short circuiting upon experiencing resistance, she changed subjects.

I’ve only ever tried to be a friend to my son.

That’s funny. Kitty’s first impression of Billy was precisely, here’s somebody who probably doesn’t have so many friends.  

Mine was a Difficult childhood. You may presume otherwise, that it would have been easy, because of who I am and all that I have. 

I don’t think that at all.

Bless you, then. But my mother, after my father’s passing, she became … quite unfriendly. So I tried to be the opposite to my little boy Billy. My only son. My mother wouldn’t just say No. She would chant it, like a mantra. She would almost hiss it. So I told my son: Yes, dear. 

(In many respects, Hildy considered her approach to motherhood similarly to her career as a marketer. As that of an Innovator. Today’s mothers talk of positive reinforcement like they invented it, but Hildy had been positively reinforcing for going on three decades. And in the face of all evidence to its ineffectiveness, she persisted.) 

Empower him the tools and the freedom with which to grow, I firmly believed. And I still do, by the way. There were variables we simply couldn’t account for. He was born at the wrong time, for one thing. Clinically speaking, that is, he was a patient in a period when the whole of psychiatry was gun-shy over the backlash to lobotomies and shock therapy, albeit deserved. Still, it stifled our imminent discovery of better living through chemistry. Pediatric pharmacology in particular has advanced by leaps and bounds in the decades since. If only he’d been born just ten years on, we might have had the tools with which to sedate him, compassionately. Alas, I had to make some difficult choices with regard to his mental welfare. Seeing those brutish orderlies grab him from the bed in the middle of a pitch-dark night. Blindfold him. Toss him into a windowless van. That was traumatic for me. Nevermind redundant. But I had no choice! His entire life, he was an escape artist. A Tiny Houdini. Have you any idea the strength of a rope ladder one can fashion from seven hundred-thread count Egyptian cotton linens? One could belay the El Capitan entire! So they were adamant, he had to be taken by force. Enrollment via the element of surprise.

I stand by my decision. No, in point of fact, I believe I believe I’m entitled to some recognition for having the courage to make it. After all, being a mother doesn’t allow for second-guessing one’s self. As you’ll soon see for yourself. Now, yes. Certainly, their methods are unconventional. That I’ll grant you. But, don’t we as educators know … the only way forward is through. And sure enough, out he came the other side, a different person. Of an improved disposition. One who at long last, wanted reasonable things for himself. Lo, they seem just out of reach. Oh, how I’ve tried to hand him them! They did say to expect a period of adjustment. Of course, I didn’t think it would last well into his twenties.

 Listen to me piddle away. I’m terribly sorry. What was your question again? That’s right: Why! And you rephrased it, as if the answer would reveal itself upon repeated asks. What if — was it? — in reference to your hypothetical refusal. So I’ll once again repeat myself, regarding these questions that I don’t often receive. They’re also not questions I would dare ever ask of myself. There is only the wish and its fulfillment. As per the dark matter between those two points, it simply does not exist. Or, at the very least, it’s none of my concern.   

Kitty could sense that it was her turn to talk now. And yet, her words had been sumarily sucked out of her. Whatever melancholy wind it was that Mick so often pissed into, a chronic exasperation she so often drafted off of, Kitty now felt herself head on. It was a considerable strain. Thus Hildy resumed. Now I’m going to do something I’ve never had occasion to. Perhaps you’ve seen this scenario played out as trope in television or film. I’m going to write a number on this hot pink pad of adhesive note paper, our informal substitute for a term sheet. The figure you see before you constitutes my offer, that is final. You may accept it, which I strenuously urge you to do. Or else, you may refuse it, thereby accepting the consequences for postponing my gratification, which are dire. Before we begin, do you have any questions? 

Why?  

[scarlettriot]

Along for the Ride PT 1

Pairing: KirishimaxF!Reader

Summary: A drunken mistake had you marking the little Plus One box to your snobby cousin's wedding. Kirishima told you not to worry, if you couldn't find a date, he'd go with you. When the wedding gets moved up, there's absolutely no time to find a date and you're now about to be traveling to America with Kirishima on a private jet no less, dreading having him meet your rude and impossibly arrogant family.

Contains: Kirishima and Reader both come from very well-off families. Plus-Sized Reader. Fluff. Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Kinda smutty for a minute. Minors DNI. Drunken Sex. TW: Manipulative Family Relationships. TW: Body Image Issues

A/N: This story has been rolling around in my head for a while now. I might rewrite this and repost. Or I might just post the whole thing soon. I dunno yet. It does get smuttier.

Word Count: 4,974

"What's up with Y/N?"

Eijiro stepped out of the locker room with a towel slung over his shoulder and made his way into the kitchenette where Mina was chugging a bottle of water before getting back to her patrol. His eyes were trained on their mutual friend out on the patio, pacing.

You had your phone pressed to your ear, the high neck of your hero costume unzipped to your collarbone and he noticed your gloves discarded on a chair.

"No clue." Mina shrugged. "She got back from patrol and she noticed a bunch of missed calls from her mom. She's been out there, flailing on the phone for the last fifteen minutes now."

The three of you had met in your second year at UA when you transferred into their class and were quickly accepted by their little squad of friends. You were a bit quiet at first but quickly found comfort in the group. Eijiro had grown especially close to you when you both interned with Fat Gum.

Late nights traveling on the train back to school, a few close calls while helping patrol, and days spent playing cards while you both healed up in the hospital left plenty of time for Eijiro to get to know you better than most. It was how he knew you had a pretty bad relationship with your family, why you hated returning home for the holidays almost as much as you hated any and all forms of tomatoes.

He considered going out there just to see if there was anything he could do but before he had the chance, you were sliding the glass door open. "Oh, good, you're back." He offered you a bottle of water for your throat that he assumed was sore after that argument. "I- um- can I borrow you for a second? Alone?"

Mina snorted a laugh. "If you guys wanna bang it out on the counter you can just say so. I gotta go to work anyways."

Eijiro threw the towel at her as she left the room leaving you two alone. "What's goin' on?"

You hoisted yourself up on the countertop while he leaned against the fridge. "You remember my cousin's wedding that's happening this winter?"

He nodded. He vividly remembered the both of you getting waste a few weeks ago when you were filling out the RSVP and accidentally marking 'plus one'. Then you ran around trying to find White Out but he'd told you if you didn't find a date or have a significant other by the time of the wedding, he'd just go with you.

You argued that your family was bat shit crazy, had more money than they could spend in their lifetime and because of that, they were among some of the rudest people you knew, and you didn't want Eijiro or anyone else around that.

The thing was, Eijiro already knew that and was still okay with going. He came from money too. A lot of it. His family was just more welcoming than yours, the wealth never really going to their heads. But, he reminded you that he'd ran into enough people like those in your family that he knew how to handle them. You finally agreed to let him accompany you, leaving the plus one box checked but the name line blank.

"Well, my cousin just found out that surprise, she's pregnant! And, obviously, she can't have a wedding while seven months along so they've decided to move the wedding up to this weekend."

He nearly choked on his own spit. "This weekend? As in four days from now?"

"Yup! Saturday at 4 in the evening. Oh! No one's supposed to know she's pregnant either. So, I'm just supposed to compliment her on how flattering her dress looks, how thin she is," Your hands strangled the water bottle between them, "And I have to find something flattering to my figure because my mother has seen me in my hero outfit and she's so glad I wear a mask because if anyone knew her daughter ran around looking like I do, well, it'd ruin her!"

You massaged your temples circling back to the actual point, "Anyways, I just wanted to bitch for a sec and let you know you're off the hook since four days is just a little short notice and I told her my plus one wouldn't be able to get the time off that fast."

He pushed off the fridge. "Well, wait, hang on! I'm not letting you go in alone to deal with them! Hell no! You need backup!" You looked almost taken aback by his abruptness, "Yeah. I can work this out. Is the wedding at the same place it was supposed to be or has it moved?"

"No, it's still that fancy lodge in California. I was planning on leaving Friday morning and then coming back either Sunday night or Monday morning since my mother insists I go to their brunch the following day. But, Eijiro, I already have this weekend off..."

"Denki owes me a favor or twelve. He's supposed to be off this weekend too, I'll just see if he can cover me."

"And if he can't?"

"Then..." He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead, "Y/N, am I feeling warm to you? I think I might be starting a fever!"

You folded your arms, shaking your head, "Thought you said lying isn't manly."

"Technically, correct. But, what would be real unmanly is for me to let you deal with your family's bullshit all alone." You watched him closely, "To be honest, I'm sure we could just explain you had a family thing come up and asked me to come along for moral support. I don't really think anyone would think twice about it. Hell, you took a few days off to console me when my turtle died suddenly!"

"Eiji, you refused to eat."

"And you brought me my favorite dumplings! Same thing!"

You might have shaken your head at him but your arms opened wide. The telltale sign you wanted affection. He walked forward, consuming you in a tight hug. Your arms latched around his neck, face buried in the hollow of his throat. "You're the best."

"I just do what I can."

>>><<<

You should have canceled. Instead of Eijiro faking sick to get out of work, you should have faked it with your mother so you didn't have to go in the first place. You crumpled to the floor of your bedroom in pure frustration amidst the twenty or so outfits and dozen pairs of shoes you'd thrown out of your closet trying to find something that your mother would deem appropriate.

It wasn't your fault you had a fuller figure. You worked out, ate right, not to mention your job kept you very active, and yet your, hips, ass, and breasts were by no means subtle.

Your mother had also insisted on the dress being floor-length and modern, "Do try not wearing all black. It's a wedding, not a funeral. And, get your hair looking natural, please." And, just like that, 70% of your wardrobe was out the window!

"It's open!" You called from the floor when the doorbell rang.

"You really should lock this." Mina tutted, walking through the door with a bag full of takeout.

"I do. At night."

"Honey, it's 9 PM."

"Night like bedtime."

Mina just rolled her eyes and walked into your tiny kitchen. "I see the dress hunt is going well."

"I actually figured it out!" You got off the floor, careful not to step on a heel as you made your way to the pink haired woman, "I'm just gonna go in my birthday suit. I figured, my mother made my body technically therefore she can't disapprove of it. Because, you know, she's never done anything wrong in her life!"

Your best friend snorted out a laugh and passed you the take-out container stuffed full of stir fry. "you're a wonderful person, you know that?" You loved the fact Mina didn't even have to ask what you wanted.

"If you'd just move closer to work then you could pick it up yourself and I wouldn't have to bring it to you."

"Too expensive." You declared after a mouthful. "You pay almost twice as much as I do per month and I just don't see the point. I have damn near the same amount of space you do for half the cost!"

You adored your small one-bedroom apartment. It was perfect. Right above a bakery that you visited each morning after your run and a little balcony that provided you with the most stunning view of the sunset.

"You and Kiri, I swear." Mina just shook her head and curled up with her food on the loveseat. "I thought he'd end up with the biggest house out of us all the moment we started making that real Pro money. You've seen his parent's house. It's massive! You could get lost in that place!"

Eijiro's place was barely bigger than your own. He lived in the same condo he had since you'd graduated UA, claiming it was perfect for him in each and every way. But, you knew that he donated a sizable amount of his paycheck every month to charities, the same as you. With savings to spare, neither of you saw the point in hoarding it and therefore the small condo was all he could afford with what he actually kept.

"Just don't understand how a guy that big can live in such a tiny little space. At least with you, it's you know, physically feasible."

Eijiro's bedroom was barely large enough to fit the king-sized bed the man needed to sleep comfortably and even then, his feet were dangerously close to dangling off the bed. And, as if the man's ears were burning, your cell phone went off under a pile of discarded shoes.

Shark-E: Figured out your dress situation? If not, I'm just gonna pack like ten different ties and hope for the best.

You: Yeah! I totally did! I'm just gonna wear this birthday suit I got and call it a night.

You chuckled at your own joke all over again. Watching the grey ellipses appear and then vanish, appear and vanish again. After a third time, you took pity on the man.

You: Joking, Ei. I still don't have it figured out but Mina's over so, hopefully, she can help.

Shark-E: Gonna give me a damn heart attack! Seriously, I wouldn't put it past you just to see the look on your mom's face. Tell Mina hi and good luck to you. I vote the dress from the Hero Gala two years ago.

You: Hi from Mina. Can't. Too much boobs.

Shark-E: You take that back right now! There is NEVER such a thing as too much boobs!

You chuckled to yourself, putting your phone down, and then finished off the last of your delicious dinner, thinking about the dress Eijiro mentioned.

You wondered if maybe there was a way you could make the thing work but it was so very low cut. So much tape had been used to make sure no slips happened but damn was it worth it! The beaded bodice with the sparkling long sleeves, gods, how you loved that dress.

"I'm inclined to agree with our shark boy. You're busty, who gives a damn. You looked hot as hell in that dress."

"My mother, that's who. As much as I'd like to not give a flying fuck what she thinks, for some dumb reason, I do. On top of her telling me that the amount of cleavage I would show would be vastly inappropriate for a wedding, she'd also say the way it hugs my hips makes them look too fat."

Mina rolled her eyes. "She's such a piece of work." Pushing herself up, she held her arms out to you, wiggling little pink fingers for you to take. "Come on then. Let's get you sorted."

"What about that one you wore to the charity art thingy with Kyoka last winter? The one with the silver top."

"Silver is too close to white." You called out from within your closet.

"What! Not true!"

"You know that. I know that. Every person with two brain cells knows that, which is why most of my family does not know that."

"Fine..." She whined and started sifting through the opposite end of your closet. "Oh, what about this?" Mina waved about the blue and green plaid skirt that made up your uniform from your middle school days when you lived in America. "Please try this on. I'm begging!"

You were pretty sure it wouldn't even go over your thighs anymore.

"It's got a better chance of fitting you!"

Mina threw it at you anyway. Slipping off the sweats you wore, somehow, someway, you were able to tug it on AND get it zipped, barely. It no longer covered your ass but you still enjoyed the way it swished around when you wiggled your hips.

"You could be fulfilling so many people's fantasies right now." Mina mused.

You pulled the skirt off and sweats back on, throwing the former back at her. "Yeah, you can take it and go fulfill Hanta's fantasies if you like. Not like I've got anyone to impress." You pulled down a dress you bought on sale a year ago but Mina was quick to dismiss it.

Too puffy, she said and then held up one that was from Momo. "I needed to get it shortened and I don't have time for that now."

"Wait..." She hummed and dropped the Momo dress. "I know what it should be!"

Mina hurried through the closet, grumbling about not finding it. "Just tell me which dress and I can tell you where it's at."

"It's that one you got for grad night and then you got sick and couldn't go!"

"Mina, Mina I can't wear that! That's actual vintage, not like, made-to-look-vintage!"

"But it's so elegant and has that off-the-shoulder sleeve thing. The wedding is at a damn sky lodge! It'll look so pretty in the snow! Ah! Found it!"

She yanked up the long, elegant gown from the garment bag you'd never removed it from. There wasn't a single wrinkle in the burgundy fabric. It looked just as beautiful as the day you found it in that second-hand store, on a mannequin with gaudy stage jewels that you just had to buy so the look was complete.

You ran the back of your hand over the velvety fabric, soft to the touch. "It'll be too tight now. If I was the same size I was at graduation-"

"Bullshit!" Mina cut you off with a dismissive hand, "You've got hips now. We aren't 18 anymore! It's not like it's some clubbing dress. And I bet no one would say a damn thing about your figure if they knew how easily you could crush them with those thighs!"

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Without quirks, you gave every single one of your classmates a run for their money in hand to hand. Most were fairly easy to beat. You could usually take down Eijiro in about five or six minutes and Katsuki in half the time. Funny enough, it was Ochaco that gave you the hardest time.

"I'll consider it. But help me find something else just in case."

>>><<<

It was another two hours before you finally agreed on an a-line, empire waist green and gold number that had been the bridesmaid's dresses for Tetsutetsu's wedding. Mina thought they were a crime the first time they had to wear them, she had no idea what you were thinking.

That's why the moment you were preoccupied with trying to find yet another dress for the Sunday brunch, Mina pulled out her phone.

You: DO NOT, under any circumstances, allow Y/N to wear the green dress. She's bringing two because she can't decide. Red is the winner!

Jaws: Aw, come on. If she likes it, let her wear whatever she's comfortable in. She'll be under enough stress already.

You: Kirishima, it's the dress from Tetsu's wedding. The one that looks sparkly baby food.

It took him a second to respond.

Jaws: Alright. Understood. I thought you guys looked good but damn, she hated that dress.

You: We all did.

Mina looked at the message chain again and couldn't help but asked, "Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you and Eiji are flying all the way to America, last minute, to attend a wedding together, even though you're not together?"

"We've flown to the states before."

"For work!" She sat up eagerly. "This is different, Y/N! This is a date and not just a, like, casual date but a wedding date!"

You poked your head out of the closet. "No, it isn't. This is a friend helping another friend who stupidly mismarked an RSVP." You corrected very plainly but Mina wasn't one to give up so easily.

She whined, dragging out your name, "You guys have been doing this thing for ages. Why do you have to be so stubborn about it all!"

"What's that supposed to mean!"

Mina started ticking off points on her fingers. "He was the first person you opened up to at UA. You saved his life when he was busy saving Katsuki's life second year. You spent all that time interning together, became sidekicks together. Went to America together for three whole months, ALONE, and you honestly expect me to think there's nothing between the two of you!"

The truth of it all was simple really; 17 year old you had a massive crush on Eijiro Kirishima. He was sweet, always listening to you, providing comfort when you needed it, and always encouraging you to push your limits. He was bright and honest, a little slow in the head from time to time but that made him all the more endearing.

He was also head over heels in love with Katsuki Bakugo.

It was why you never made a move. Never spoke a word of the feelings you harbored. You didn't dare to cross that line with him because you couldn't ever hold a candle to the explosive man.

In the three years Eijiro and Katsuki spent together, your brain finally started registering Eijiro as just a friend, nothing more, and certainly nothing less. You thought your heart had followed suit but it was becoming more and more apparent that wasn't the case. Because the night he showed up at your door, tears in his ruby eyes, every lock you put on your heart broke open.

The same way you couldn't hold a candle to Katsuki, Eijiro couldn't hold one to Izuku. You knew exactly what he was feeling even if you never intended to tell him. Too overcome with fear. If Katsuki came back... that'd be it. Eijiro would go back and you wouldn't even blame him!

Still, the redhead consumed a decent chunk of your heart though, you couldn't deny that after the three months you spent together in America, gathering intel on a smuggling ring, living in the same apartment. The groggy, 'good mornings' when his voice was still scratchy with sleep, hair falling in his eyes. The late nights bandaging wounds and killing cheap bottles of wine while watching terrible American reality shows.

It was those bottles of wine that did you in on your second to last night in America. Supplying you with courage and draining your sense of reason, allowing you to crawl onto his lap, into his arms. You could still remember the pressure of his lips on yours, those sharp teeth gently dragging along your lower lip.

Scared hands tracing the curve of your ass before taking handfuls to squeeze. The laugh that came from you was unlike anything you heard before, something so genuine that you couldn't reproduce.

How it felt when he lifted you up and took you to his bed, laying you down taking his time removing your clothes, and watching with awe as you pulled away his own. The way he looked over top of you, his hair a curtain of red around you just before you closed your eyes, gasping while he filled you.

You also remembered the guilt that crept into your head during the wee hours of the morning, the doubt that was louder than the snores coming from behind you.

It made you slip from under his massive arm, gather up your clothes from his floor, you tucked the blanket around him, and pressed a kiss to his temple before padding out of the room.

You told yourself you'd talk to him about it if he brought it up, but he never did. Not the next morning, or night, not on the plane ride back home, nor anytime since. It was a memory you'd hold close to your heart, one you wouldn't let slip away or share.

"There's nothing there, Mina. We're just good friends is all." You lied with a smile on your face, something that had become surprisingly easy to do.

If only you knew that Mina saw right through it. That Mina already knew the truth of it all.

>>><<<

It was nearly one in the morning when your phone rang. The goofy picture of Eijiro with face half painted at a festival a few years back never failed to make you grin.

"It's a little late." You answered by way of greeting.

"Don't pretend like you were anywhere close to sleeping, you little night owl."

Chuckling at the nickname that had followed you since high school, "What's up, Eiji?"

"I was going over flights. You said in the office that you wanted to leave on Friday?"

"Yeah. I have patrol tomorrow and I didn't find any flights after 6 PM so, Friday is the earliest."

He was quiet on the other line for a moment. "Yeah, you don't have patrol tomorrow, or work at all for that matter."

You sat up a bit straighter in bed. "Um, yes I do."

"No, you don't. I called Mina, asked her if you'd mind taking that shift for you and, since she knows what's happening, she agreed the extra day for travel would do you some good. So, she's covering you tomorrow then you're off work until next Wednesday. As for me, thanks to all that overtime I put in when Denki, Kyoka, and Hitoshi got married, the three of them are splitting up my days so I have until Wednesday too."

Eijiro sounded impossibly proud on the other line, you could almost see the smirk on his face. "You've got this all planned out, don't you?"

"And a bag nearly packed. Just need you to tell me what ties to bring."

"Gold, burgundy, and black."

"Thought your mom said no black for you?"

"She said no black for the wedding. She said nothing about black at the brunch!"

You couldn't wait to put on the tea-length dress that had been a favorite for years. Satin with a lacy top and, best of all, pockets.

He let out a rumbling laugh that fell off into comfortable silence as you laid back in your bed, lights still on, the room still a mess. You tapped the speaker icon and laid the phone on the pillow right beside your head, listing to the various sounds of Eijiro moving around.

A door creaking open, a hanger clattering against another, and a zipper. "And just like that, I'm all set."

"Don't forget your passport or hero license."

"I have one in my wallet and the other in my backpack."

You swiped up on your iPad, off Netflix, and going to google, lazily searching through flights. "So, did you find any good flights since you've clearly been looking?"

Another chuckle, "Eijiro, why are you laughing?" More stifled giggles had you sitting up in bed again. "Just tell me a site you were on. They're just flights, what's so funny?"

"There isn't a site."

"You said you were checking flights."

"And I was... on my family's jet."

"Eiji! No! No, no, no! That is supposed to be for their business or hero things! My stupid cousin's wedding is neither of those things!"

"Relax, Y/N. My family has multiple and they don't have any business trips planned right now anyways. I already cleared it with my mom. Seriously, I just mention your name and she's likely to let me have it for a whole year at least. Plus Todoroki's is back up in working order so the agency is covered too."

Damn, why'd he have to be so good at planning from time to time! You'd completely forgotten about the second jet his family had. Always opting for the larger one since the few missions they needed it for required them to bring fifty or so heroes along.

"Besides, if we fly private, we can land at an airstrip closer to the venue and won't need to drive four hours on top of a ten-hour flight."

"Alright, okay, thank you but, let me take care of the rental car, please. It's the least you can let me do."

"Deal. I just have one more question for ya."

"What's that?"

"Wanna leave tonight?"

You nearly dropped your damn iPad in shock. "Eijiro! What the fuck has gotten into you! It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm excited!" He boomed, "I haven't had a vacation in months!"

"I hate to break this to you, buddy, but this isn't going to be a vacation. You really shouldn't get your hopes up. This isn't going to be a good time with laughs and fun memories... my family, they just, they aren't those kinds of people."

"But we are." He stated matter-of-factly. "If they want to have sticks up their asses then let them! We'll have a good time on our own, laugh and make fun memories! So, what do you say, Y/N? I can be at your place in fifteen. I just gotta put shoes on and grab my keys..."

"Wait, hang on. Are you forgetting that we need someone to, oh, I dunno, FLY THE PLANE! Actually, we need two someone's, can't forget about a co-pilot!"

He hummed happily and you rubbed your temples. "You, you have a pilot and a co, don't you, Eiji?"

"Mhm! There is a company we use. Two can be at the hanger in an hour and every hour after that. I just have to make the call and get the flight plan approved which will be done before I even get to your house."

There was literally no reason to say no. You had mostly everything packed, nothing you needed to get from the store, all you had to do was put on pants and pack up your hygiene bag and you were ready too. Maybe getting there quicker and getting the whole thing over with would be better than staying home dwelling on everything.

"Better put your shoes on."

The glee in his voice, that was enough to make this whole thing worth it, "I'll see you soon."

>>><<<

Eijiro reached into the backseat and plopped a bag down on your lap the very moment you were buckled in. "Had to make a pit stop." He explained.

"It's after two in the morning, where'd you have to..."

"Just open the bag and don't complain."

You found it filled to the brim with all your favorite snacks.

"I'm sure the plane will have a bunch of snacks we can raid but I know for a fact they don't have these." He held up a pack of cookies and creme flavored pocky that had been his favorite for as long as you'd known him, quickly followed by your favorite flavor too. You also found a massive bag of gummy worms and jolly ranchers.

"So, what you're telling me is our teeth are going to rot by the time we land? Not that I'm complaining."

You ripped open the bag of ranchers knowing that was what he'd go for first and sure enough his hand dove inside just as he pulled away from the curb. You could hear his dangerously sharp teeth biting through the rock candy like it was nothing while you still rolled one around your mouth.

Eijiro asked you about the resort you'd be going to, wondering if you'd been there before or what other stuff you guys could do when you weren't dealing with your family. "I figured we could fly back Monday night or Tuesday morning, you know, just play it by ear in case there was anything else we wanted to do."

More than anything, you wished you could just leech a little bit of that excitement from him. The glimpses of his smile you caught as you drove under the street lights made your heart ache.

"What?" He asked with that wide smile of his. You'd been caught staring, red-handed.

"I, uh, I just don't know what to tell you."

You could see the subtle change of his grin, watch as it softened and his hand came to rest on your thigh. "Hey, it's gonna be fine! And if we run into them while out doing stuff, you can just avoid them or hide behind me!" At least hiding behind Eijiro is an easy thing to do, damn mountain of a man.

His thumb slowly brushed back and forth. "'S gonna be okay. I'll beat 'em up if they're assholes!"

You snickered at his Katsuki impression and let the drone of the radio fill the air around you both. Enjoying the silence the rest of the way to the hanger with Eijiro's hand atop your leg.

[tons-of-vball-huns]

could u maybe do a post thats kenma x male reader (or gender neutral, whatever you’re comfortable with !!) where the reader and kenma are hanging out together at kenmas house, and the reader realizes they like him bc he asks to hold their face bc their eyes are so pretty <3 idk just rlly wholesome cutsey affectionate non sexual face holding

like hand on ur cheeks <3 and like kenma asks to hug the reader bc they get really uncomfortable w hugs but they feel okay to get hugged that day

i hope youre having a good day, and if you’re not, hopefully you find time to do something u enjoy :)

sorry my brain is scattered 😭/gen

[a/n: wait that sounds so cute! i have to do this asap because Y E S. thanks for the request, anon! also, i’m making it a gn!reader because that’s kinda like how it usually go about it and i changed it a tiny bit. btw, sorry for being late! love you, keep being you <3]

requests are open! i might be a bit late with the posting because my sat is coming up this saturday.

request is below the cut!

starring: k. kenma

type: fluff. fluffy fluffy fluff

warnings/others: unhealthy sleeping habits. weird formatting. commas galore. intended lowercase. use of “heck” and “hell”.

wc: 793 words

fun fact: kenma gets clingy and weirdly cuddly when he’s feeling tired or sleepy and even sleeps while cuddling a large dog plushie. he also takes the brain filter out and just says what he says without a thought and, in his opinion, acted like a drunk person.

fun fact: he would rather die miserably than let other people know about this. he hides the dog inside a suitcase whenever he leaves his room and has even made an elaborate plan to escape to brazil and start his life over if anyone gets even a single clue.

and if we extrapolate this data and think with common sense? you didn’t know either.

after a long day of school, you decided the best course of action was to just follow kenma home and hang out. it was a friday, and your family went out of town for the weekend, so you didn’t have to worry about returning home on time. besides, you’ve been hanging out forever, you knew no one would even bat an eye.

the two of you decided to play some video games to pass the time.

and that is how you ended up staying up until 7:37am.

one thing about kenma is that although he can easily get up at 2am to play, he has almost zero experience of staying up that long in at least 5 years. and coupled with the day before being an extra-long day — you had to write over 3 pages of notes for one class, had to run 5 laps for pe, and volleyball practice was extended until 5:30pm. he even woke up at 3am the night before to play on his console. he was rightfully more exhausted than usual.

kenma seemed to be weirder than usual to you now. he could barely keep his eyes open now, but neither could you, not after staying up for longer than 24 hours, so that definitely wasn’t it. was it the way he-

kenma placed his controller down and moved a bit closer to you, “wanna hug. can i hug you, (name)?”

you stared at him for a second. yeah, he was definitely acting strange, but he looked absolutely adorable in your opinion. his hands were outstretched, his eyes bleary and barely open, slightly furrowed brows, the tiniest hint of a pout on his cute, pink, kissable li- huh? no. where was your mind going to? you shook your head, “sure? i don’t really mind.”

“i’m happy you said you didn’t mind,” kenma muttered, nuzzling into your neck. “you always said you didn’t really like them so i was a bit worried you wouldn’t wanna.”

you awkwardly patted his back once, twice. this felt like a hallucination, what the heck was even happening? kenma never seemed to be the type to ask for hugs — usually, it was kuroo who was the one who asked for hugs. and you usually weren’t entirely comfortable with hugs, so why the hell did you say you “didn’t really mind”? and why was your cheek a little… warm? the ac was on full-blast, it doesn’t make sense! staying up for 24+ hours does some things to you.

beside you, kenma had stopped snuggling into your neck and moved a tiny bit farther, “hey hey (name)? is it alright if i… hold your face?” he noticed the puzzled look on your face, “it’s just that… your eyes look pretty, like super pretty. i wanna take a closer look. so can i?”

you tentatively nodded your head a little, still super confused. kenma’s face broke into a cute little smile as he shuffled closer to you and put his hands on your cheeks and pulled your face closer, his hands squishing your cheeks in the process. his hands felt incredibly cold against your warm, warm cheeks. you let out an involuntary shiver at the different temperatures.

“woahhh. so pretty, (name). your eyes look really pretty. i wanna keep looking at them forever,” he said, transfixed by your eyes.

you honestly thought your eyes weren’t all that special — you saw them daily so they kinda lost their appeal to you. maybe that was why you felt that feeling in your chest and stomach — fluttering, fluttering, fluttering like pretty little butterflies —, you never thought they looked pretty so maybe that’s why felt so flustered, your cheeks turning warmer, warmer, warmer? or maybe — you looked into kenma’s warm, excited eyes as he was squishing your cheeks and giggling and rambling about your “beautiful eyes” and how much he loved them — was it because it was him?

three months later, you still loved to tease him about that moment, watching his cheeks turn scarlet in an instant. but however embarrassing it was for him, he was glad it happened.

[shurisneakers]

harmless (iv)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, guns, mention of war, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: good evening i’ve never been to any of the places i mention in this series so dont come @ me

if you have any ideas for future inventions/evil plans, lemme know! i might actually end up using them 

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

He spends the weekend doing nothing. It’s supposed to be relaxing. He finds it nauseatingly boring.

“No mini mission this week?” Steve asks him from across the couch. 

They’re supposed to be catching up on Star Wars but two prequels in and Bucky could feel himself lose his sanity. Anyone could present him with a random assortment of alphabets, call it a Star Wars species and he would have no reason not to believe them.

It’s not like he doesn’t like space. It’s just that he’s had enough of it and everything and everyone who came from it for the foreseeable future.

“No. Someone else is taking care of it.”

“Didn’t you volunteer for this?”

“I pulled myself out of the case.”

“I thought you were having fun.” 

Bucky’s head slowly turns to look at him. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged. “Looked like you were.”

Well, he wasn’t. He likes it here at home, glued to the TV. Popcorn beside him, sweatpants on. Refreshing, calming, slow, mundane, and Jesus Christ, so fucking boring-

His spiralling is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator to the common floor. No one was allowed up there unless it was extremely urgent. Guests were barely allowed into the Tower as it was. 

It reveals the receptionist from downstairs, Marie. She’s always a little reserved, a little shy. But Bucky had seen her chew and spit out trespassers or anyone who dared to get on her nerve. He adores her.

“Hey, Marie,” Steve says while Bucky sends her a friendly wave in greeting. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a hostage situation downtown,” she informs them. 

“Okay...” Steve drawls, waiting for a reason why this was an Avengers level threat.

“They’ve asked for Mr. Barnes by name.” She makes a mention towards him.

Bucky sits up straight. Bits of popcorn fall off his chest. 

“What?”

“They said, and I quote-” she looks down at her notepad. “‘Tell that grumpy motherfucker that I’m waiting for him and that he’s not getting out of this so easily because we have come too far.’ End quote. They’ve also told me to include a kissing emoji. And a skull.”

Steve and he look at each other.

“Well?” Steve prods. 

Bucky sighs and gets up to go get ready.

The entrance of Chuck E. Cheese is more crowded than he’d ever seen. He wasn’t even sure he’d seen people in the store before. If there were, they probably only came up till his waist. 

There are a few journalists, a few policemen standing together outside. Whispers of confusion and curiosity reigned free. 

Bucky gently pushes his way to the front. He gets a nod from a police officer who opens the door for him after a quick briefing. 

The place is darker than it usually would be. A trademark, it seemed. The blinds are drawn shut and most of the light is coming through whatever sneaks in through the crack. 

“Hey, Barnes.” Your voice is muffled by a mask that looks suspiciously like it was made out of classroom craft supplies.

There’s a person in a loose chokehold in your hand with a gun pressed against his head. Once again it looks straight out of a cartoon, purple with round disks lining its barrel. 

“What’s all this now?” He gestures around monotonously. 

“A hostage situation. Didn’t you get the memo?”

“Got that part down, genius,” he bites back. “But why?”

“Fucker kept harassing me when I was walkin’ down the street.” 

The guy’s helpless gaze met Bucky. 

“Catcalling me, stalking me.” You tighten the grip you have on him. “Call me darlin’ one more time, you son of a bitch. I dare you.”

He wasn’t impressed with his pleading eyes. He kinda felt like he deserved it. 

“Why’d you do it here?” The bright colours were starting to give him a heading. “And where are the staff?”

“It’s symbolic, Bucky,” you emphasise, “He deserves to be among other rat bastards.”

Of course.

“The staff?” he asks again. 

“Gave them thirty bucks and told them to leave. I’m not a monster.”

“Right.” He doesn’t bother refuting you. “Why’d you call me here?”

“Dunno.” You shrug. “Thought it’d be fun. You having fun yet?”

You shake the guy you’re holding. He gives a small whimper. 

Bucky doesn’t want to stop you. He had chugged enough Respect Juice in his lifetime to know that this guy probably deserved a threat or two.

Hell, he’d even help but you were more than capable of handling this on your own.

“Listen,” he sighed. “As much as I’m sure he deserves it, this is technically illegal and I’m required to stop you.”

“Sorry sarge, I thought you weren’t interested in playing this stupid game with me,” you mock, voice dropping to imitate him.

“I’m not.” It wasn’t entirely true. One Saturday with Jar Jar Binks had convinced him otherwise.

“Okay, so before you leave, do me a favour and call Hawkeye. I hear he looks mighty fine when he’s annoyed.”

His face involuntarily scrunched up. You were going to replace him with Clint? Clint?

He probably took it more as an insult than he should have.

“I’m not doing that.” Bless his foul mouthed friend, but he was a little shit who was too sarcastic for his own good. At least twice a week he’d say something stupid to Bucky and then take out his hearing aids when he tried to argue back. 

“You’re leavin’ me with no options here,” you groaned, using your thumb to flip a switch. The gun looks like it powered up, lights along the side turning red.

If he let you have this, it’d be a bad look for the Avengers.

New York man dies in Chuck E. Cheese lone hostage situation, unable to be saved by same superhero who tried to fight Thanos with a machine gun.

“Tell ya what,” he says instead, “If you kill him, there won’t even be a slight chance that you’ll see me again.”

Your grip on the gun falters.

“If I let him go...”

“I might consider coming back next week.” He’s trying to spin it, make it look like he’s the one with the upper hand here. “But you gotta let him go.”

You search his face for any signs of dishonesty.

“Let him go or you’ll never see me again.” It sounds too much like Clint’s arguments with his dog who brought a live squirrel into the house. 

“Fine,” you relent, a glint in your eye. “but say goodbye to this fuckface.”

Before Bucky can open his mouth to shout in protest, you pull the trigger. The man clenches his eyes shut, face red.

He expects blood to be splatter across his face.

Nothing happens.

A barrage of bubbles floats into the room.

“I meant it literally,” you say, pushing him off you. “Say goodbye. He’s leaving.”

The man stumbles to the ground and Bucky doesn’t make any attempt to catch him. He scrambles to his knees, picking himself up and scurrying out the door to a hoard of reporters.

The door shuts behind him with the chime of a bell.

“You’re annoying,” Bucky states, giving a small sigh.

“I’m well aware of that.” You pull off the mask, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“Where is the agent assigned to your case?” 

“Dunno. Last I saw he was crying on the driveway of my lair. I just figured he’d pick himself up later so I left him there.”

Bucky’s nose twitches. 

“You weren’t actually going to kill him, were you.” He shrugs with his shoulder towards the door. It wasn’t a question, more a statement. He knew you wouldn’t. 

“I could have.”

“But you weren’t going to,” he repeats. 

“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t. But I’m glad to see you showed up.”

“You held someone hostage as leverage.”

“No, no. I held someone hostage and then asked to see you. They were completely unrelated.”

“You’re evil.”

“You jumped to conclusions,” you point out. “Would you like a trampoline next time? Maybe a pogo stick, you clown?”

He has a very real gun in his holster. His very real metal death arm aches to use it. 

“No one else agreed to come,” he deflects. 

“We both know that’s a lie. You were going to come back anyway.” You stuff the bubble gun back into the bag. “I’m deliciously irresistible.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Then beg.” You give him a smirk and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, you win this round, sarge.”

He doesn’t say anything. He watches you remove your heist gear, revealing normal civilian clothes underneath.

You walk casually to the kitchen, intending to leave through the back door.

“But I can’t say I lost either.” You send him a wink before swiftly pushing open the door and leaving him behind.

He only watches you leave.

It doesn’t hit him until a few seconds later that he let a criminal out of his hands when there were several policemen and journalists outside.

He entertains the idea of chasing you down and handing you over. 

It takes him only a few seconds to decide that if they wanted you, they’d have to try themselves.

Next part 

[hd-wireless]

🎶 HD Wireless 2021 Reveals! 🎶

TAKE A BOW, CREATORS!! 

The day has finally come, and we can’t wait for everyone to see who created all the wonderful Wireless works that we had the privilege to present to you this year!!

Before we do that, the results of our Guessing Game! The winner, with 43 correct guesses (which gave her 260 points - please don’t question our scoring system) was @sweet-s0rr0w!! Kudos to your super-sleuthing and powers of recognition!!

All the wonderful authors, artists and podficcers who took part this year can be found below the cut. As the mods, we want to extend our thanks to every single talented one of them. Please show them all your love and appreciation!!

🎶 H/D Wireless Animatic and Fic 🎶

📻 rather a lover than a fighter [T, 15k] ✒️ Author and Artist: @parkkate & aceveria / @aceveria-art

🎵 Summary: When Harry loses his voice and his magic, it’s up to Healer Draco to save the day.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 The Road to Somewhere [T] 🖌️ Artist: @rainsoakedhello 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: In the end, all roads lead home.

📻 Don't care what they say (I would be stupid to be not on it) [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @digthewriter 🎵 Art medium: Digital. Photoshop.

🎵 Summary: Harry finally has a chance with Draco and he's not gonna let it go.

📻 Start Over Again [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: milkandhoney / @fictional 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Do you feel like a chainstore? Or in which one is Graham Coxon and one is Damon Albarn.

📻 Down for What You Want [Teen] 🖌️ Artist: @sugareey 🎵 Art medium: Digital

🎵 Summary: After the war, finding refuge in the clubs of Muggle London is easier than dealing with the shambles of the wizarding world. When Harry and Draco keep running into each other at Apollo's every Saturday night though, they follow their gut instincts to get on the dance floor and discover something they both have been craving for a long time.

📻 What do I do? With a Love That Won’t Sit Still [Gen] 🖌️ Artist: @cambiodipolvere 🎵 Art medium: traditional (graphite)

🎵 Summary: Italian Greyhounds are small and fucked up, but Draco is a big fuck up and that requires scaling.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art and Fic 🎶

📻 A Halo of Fairy Orbs [E, 20.6k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus & Fae_vorite / @faevorite-main-blog 🎵 Art medium: digital art

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has been dead for fifteen years, but the Black Family tapestry doesn’t agree. Upon returning from long years abroad, Harry discovers that his old rival might still be alive, and his revived obsession leads him to Malfoy Manor. There’s a mystery to solve, and Harry is chasing a thrill he hasn’t felt since sixth year. He needs to know.

📻 Oh, Sinnerman [E, 40k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @lou-isfake and @babooshkart 🎵 Art medium: digital

🎵 Summary: “I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.” He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood. It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.  

📻 The Crane Lord of Gringotts [E, 31.1k] 🖌️✒️ Author and Artist: @vukovich and @crazybutgood 🎵 Art medium: Origami, photography

🎵 Summary: Harry is fine. Being an Auror is fine. Living with Ginny is fine. It's all fine. But it used to be a lot better.

📻 The World Is A Violent Sky [E, 60k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: writingsbydestiny / @starlitsilvereyes 🎵 Art medium: Digital Art

🎵 Summary: Harry Potter wants to die; Draco Malfoy wants to live — a story of life and death, everything in between and beyond — in the form of scatters of love and hurt like freckles of stars forming into constellations. — Alternative Summary (And Significantly Less Poetic): Four years after the war, Harry remains grief-stricken. In an attempt to discover the parts of him that haven’t died in the Forbidden Forest, he drops off the face of Scotland to travel the world by himself. Along the way, he finds his old enemy, Draco Malfoy, in a Muggle country, looking positively dashing even with a slash of scar decorating his face. As always, Harry’s curiosity leads him to (un)fortunate places.

📻 The Stars Have Courage [M, 85k] 🖌️✒️ Author/Artist: @fantalf 🎵  Art medium: Digital painting

🎵 Summary: Draco can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. He can’t hear anything besides the buzzing in his ears. The walls are closing in. The world becomes smaller, narrowing itself to the pain in his chest, and it becomes the only thing that makes sense. He tries to cry. Maybe he is crying, but there are no tears anymore. Luna’s words echo endlessly in his brain. Harry doesn’t remember. Harry doesn’t love Draco. Repeating ceaselessly. Infinite, Harry used to say. No. No. No. Draco can’t lose him again. But he doesn’t know who you are now. He doesn’t love you. He hates you. You are no one. His world turns into an overwhelming pain. And that pain is all that he is. — Draco waited five long years to watch his husband wake up from a coma. He's not ready to meet a Harry with no memory of anything that happened after he died at The Battle of Hogwarts, twelve years ago.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic Collab 🎶

📻 'Til Your World Burns [E, 25.3k] ✒️ 🖋️Authors: @ladderofyears and @iero0

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy is raped and watches as his world falls apart. Harry Potter is the quiet, unassuming wizard who finally listens to him.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Inside These Walls [M, 5.6k] 🖋️ Author: @jackvbriefs

🎵 Summary: The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

📻 Drive a Little Slower [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: bluefay / @thesleepiesthufflepuff

🎵 Summary: He silently willed Harry to drive a little slower. To let him pretend a little longer.

📻 Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon [T, 16k] 🖋️ Author: thestarryknight / @the-starryknight

🎵 Summary: The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

📻 Two Starts, One Finish [E, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: @lqtraintracks

🎵 Summary: I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

📻 Never Gonna Give You Up [E, 5k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Five times Harry rickrolls Draco, and one time Draco gets him back.

📻 Alone Together [T, 3k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: He felt like a spectre, roaming the treeless grounds, the deserted streets of Hogsmeade. It was only the train station—of course it was, Harry thinks—that harboured another sleepless soul that night. They were found as though they had been looking for one another; freezing to the ground at the sight of an unmistakable silhouette in the distance, before wordlessly meeting on the platform. They stood there, side by side, faces to the sky.

📻 Nothing Left to Burn [E, 5,1] 🖋️ Author: skeptique / @skeptiquewrites​

🎵 Summary: Over ten years after their fling crashed and burned, Harry runs into Draco and finds embers still burning bright. Sometimes your ex-lover is (metaphorically) dead. And sometimes it's summertime in Montreal and the past won't let go.

📻 The Isle of Discussion [E, 21.6k] 🖋️ Author: @shealwaysreads

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

📻 (You Should Have Been My) High School Lover [T, 3.9k] 🖋️ Authort: @aprofessionalprotagonist

🎵 Summary: After years of carefully avoiding running into Harry Potter, Pansy tricks Draco into attending a party at Grimmauld Place. How is he supposed to deal with a very attractive Potter trying to talk to him?

📻 Both Hands [E, 10.4] 🖋️ Author: @sweet-s0rr0w

🎵 Summary: It’s been over a decade since Draco packed up his belongings and left, and Harry’s doing just fine. Really, he is. So when he spots the For Sale sign outside their old flat, he doesn’t think twice about arranging a viewing. Curiosity is only natural, right? And what harm can come from a quick trip down memory lane?

📻 His favourite piece of art [E, 1.3k] 🖋️ Author: @gnarf

🎵 Summary: Six years after Malfoy had left, Harry suddenly spotted him on the dancefloor of a Muggle club in London. He couldn't let this opportunity slip…

📻 I'll Try to Keep the Walls From Falling Down [M, 14.9k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s OK. Love is only meant for some; Harry knows that. Besides, he wouldn’t want to risk this new, amazing friendship he has going on with Draco for anything in the world. Keeping his walls from falling down is the least he can do.

📻 Learn to Fly [T, 11k] 🖋️ Author: @janieohio

🎵 Summary: Harry’s suffocating under all the expectations of the wizarding world, but he’s fascinated at Malfoy’s sudden ability to flaunt his true self to whoever cares to watch. And Harry? He might like to do something more than watch if he can ever get up the nerve.

📻 Restless Dreams (Stay With Me) [T, 5.5k] 🖋️ Author: wanderingeyre

🎵 Summary: At first, Draco thinks the common room is empty, but then he sees Potter sitting on the floor, back to the wall on the far side of the fireplace. His head is thrown back, exposing the brown column of his throat. The curl of his hair looks soft in the firelight. Potter’s glasses are off and there are tracks where tears have wet his cheeks. He looks naked in a way that stabs at Draco, right between the ribs where everything is already bruised.

📻 Letters From Home [T, 1.1k] 🖋️ Author: @articcat621

 🎵 Summary: Writing to each other is all that's getting them through this war.

📻 so lie to me tonight [T, 5.3k] 🖋️ Author: M0stlyVoid / @bonesliketambourines

🎵 Summary: Ginny thought it would be different, after.

📻 Mortal Frame [M, 6.6k] 🖋️ Author: tackytiger / @tackytigerfic

🎵 Summary: Draco’s on a mission, and this time it's personal. But it's not easy to track down something that no one wants to talk about, especially when Harry Potter keeps popping up everywhere Draco goes. Though at least he’s on Draco’s side this time, and if he happens to be useful, and kind, and great in bed—well, Draco’s not exactly complaining. The story of three pubs, one Horcrux, four overpriced sandwiches, and two damaged men just trying to make sure that Bellatrix Lestrange stays dead.

📻 Prologue [T, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: adavison / @aedwritesfic

🎵 Summary: Ten years after the war, Harry stumbles across Malfoy in a Muggle club. What could have been an awkward encounter might just be a new beginning.

📻 A Care To Fill The Vessel Of Your Heart [M, 2.5k] 🖋️ Author: @onbeinganangel

🎵 Summary: Draco doesn’t care for atonement. Why should he? Forgetting is easier than forgiving. Or it would be, if fate just left him to his own devices. Fate, as per usual, has its own plans.

📻 Like a Dream I Can Reach (but not quite hold) [M, 19.4k] 🖋️ Author: Cassiara / @cassiaratheslytherpuff

🎵 Summary: Harry spends his life waiting for something he isn’t entirely sure he wants, and looking for something he doesn’t know exists. Everything feels ill-fitting until Draco Malfoy enters his life and shows Harry he doesn’t have to want the expected things, and Harry learns happiness doesn't have to look a certain way.

📻 Sun and Rain [M, 4.7k]

🖋️ Author: @isamijoo 

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy thinks that being in a relationship with Harry Potter is anything but easy, but then again, what's the sun without the rain?

📻 In Pursuit of Lost Marbles [T, 22k] 🖋️ Author:  Theartfulldodger / @graymatters 

🎵 Summary: Every night after work, Healer Malfoy follows the same routine, beginning with a familiar flight of stairs that leads to the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo's. With an air of professionalism, he introduces himself to Harry, his husband of seven years, when a memory curse makes Harry look at him like a stranger. He tries not to flinch when Harry calls him sir, but he smiles when bits of the old Harry emerge. Eventually, Draco leads Harry to the Pensieve where he shows him pieces of the life they've built together, what Harry will come home to, one day, when this is all over. Then, Draco waits. He waits, and he hopes.

📻 Requiem [T, 1.8k] 🖋️ Author: EvAEleanor / @evaeleanor

🎵 Summary: Requiem — A song of mourning composed or performed as a memorial to a dead person.

📻 Changes With The Moon [Gen, 1.6k] 🖋️ Author: @missdrarrydawn

🎵 Summary: Draco takes a stroll to try to settle his turbulent thoughts, plagued by who he was, who he is and who he could be. A friend offers him a whole new world and Draco struggles with the idea, for there is too much at stake, it isn't worth it. Or—is it?

📻 Chasing Dragons [E, 89.9k] 🖋️ Author: The_Sinking_Ship / @the-sinking-ship

🎵 Summary: Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

📻 Drive, Draco [M, 2.4k] 🖋️ Author: Erebeus / @erebeus-roxy

🎵 Summary: got my driver’s license today, but you're not around to see. Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

📻 Fire [E, 10k] 🖋️ Author: GallifreyisBurning / @gallifrey1sburning

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy has never had trouble getting boyfriends. The problem is getting one that doesn’t leave him feeling cold after the first few months. He’s looking for something specific: passion, excitement, someone to keep him on his toes. He just doesn’t know how to go about finding it. After kicking his latest boyfriend to the curb, Draco’s at a loss for what to do next, until it occurs to him that a relationship with his fiery (and hot) Gryffindor colleague might not burn out so quickly—if he can just convince Harry to try it.

📻 Into the Unknown [M, 4.5k] 🖋️ Author: @drarrelie

🎵 Summary: It’s been echoing within him for months, like an annoying song that gets stuck in your head and refuses to let go. A nagging feeling in his core, telling him to say something, to do something, to go somewhere. Last night it finally happened. He did it. And it felt good; right. “I can’t be sure.” Four words, easy as that. It had been almost impossible to smother the sudden burst of joy rushing through him as that deep-seated urge rejoiced his unexpected act of rebellion. You’d think the Dark Lord’s punishment would’ve taken the exhilaration out of him, but no. Here he is, countless Crucios later, beaten and bruised, and never has the voice sounded this clear. He’s said something. He’s done something. And now he just has to go somewhere. He has no idea where, but he’s certain it will come to him. All he has to do is get out of here, then trust magic to do the rest.

📻 Home is What We Make of It [M, 20.3k] 🖋️ Author: @monsieur-hadrien

🎵 Summary: "There was a blistering draft from the child’s bedroom on the opposite side of the hallway. The door’s handle was icy to the touch as she wrapped her hand around the metal. Unlike the rest of the house, the door gave her resistance in her effort to open it. Unlike the rest of the house, when she opened the door, she couldn’t imagine anyone ever living there. Unlike the rest of the house, there was neither love nor warmth nor any semblance of life that seeped from the rest of the house’s walls. It was cold and hard and chilled her to her bones. She shivered. However, her sense of dread was not just from the cold. Perhaps it was the gaping hole in the wall." Harry and Draco want to start a family, but time loves parallels.

📻 Move, move [M, 9k] 🖋️ Author: @maesterchill

🎵 Summary: She grabbed Harry’s hand, slipping something small into it and pressing his fingers around it. “Dilectio. It’ll cheer you up. Make you feel like dancing.” Harry gaped at her. Drugs. Ginny’s fucking giving me drugs? At Stasis nightclub Ginny does indeed give Harry drugs. But it's all good: Malfoy looks after Harry, and Harry grapples with newfound enlightenments, not to mention a newfound fascination with all things Malfoy—one which persists, even when he finds out what Malfoy's up to.

📻 Euphoria [E, 66k] 🖋️ Author: @iero0

🎵 Summary: Driven by trauma, Harry cuts ties with friends and family. From crowded nightclubs and enthralling live shows, Harry finds himself stumbling into a superficial world where he's lonelier than ever. When even the constant blithe of substance-induced highs can't prevent things from becoming what he ran away from, Draco Malfoy finds Harry. Draco, who’s wearing Muggle jeans and who’s listening to Muggle music and who suggests having a nice little chat on mephedrone. And whose nose crumples beautifully when he laughs. Or: A story about Harry trying to cope with the help of drugs until he finds a new addiction. Draco likes to mend things.

📻 Your House [E, 2.9k] 🖋️ Author: @tontonguetonks

🎵 Summary: Draco tries to serve Harry divorce papers, but Harry isn't home.

📻 Misery Loves Company [E, 22.9k] 🖋️ Author: vivi1138 / @penguinanimagus

🎵 Summary: Stuck in his own head, misunderstood and lonely, Harry would love nothing more than to stay hidden in Grimmauld Place until the end of time. Malfoy won’t let him, and that's just what Harry needs.

📻 You Sexy Thing [E, 10.6k] 🖋️ Author: shortie990

🎵 Summary: As Harry began to tap his foot along to the music, the lights flashed like lightning in the middle of a summer storm, and his eye went straight to the middle of the dance floor. His eyes zoomed in on Draco. The blond looked striking as he moved his slender hips to the soulful beat. Harry watched, captivated as he pressed himself up to Pansy and began to sing to the song.

📻 A Love Story of Less-Than-Epic Proportions [E, 39k] 🖋️ Author: InnerLilith

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco are just friends. Sure, they work together, and live together, and go to gigs together, and do pretty much everything else together—so what? That’s just what friends do. And Harry has no interest in messing with their friendship. He certainly doesn’t need everyone else constantly meddling, pestering them to just get on with it and get together already. He’s having a hard enough time as it is, trying to come to terms with the fact that he probably isn’t ever going to find love. But who needs love, anyways, when you’ve got a best friend?

📻 Cup of tea, Love? [E, 15.1k] 🖋️ Author: shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony 

🎵 Summary: Things between them are easy, so much easier than Harry expected. The problem is the outside world, which grows increasingly and ridiculously difficult. “We could leave,” Draco suggests. Harry has always wanted to travel.

📻 holemate [E, 18.9k] 🖋️ Author:  @vukovich

🎵 Summary: 'Cause I'm sick of losing soulmates So where do we begin? I can finally see you're as fucked up as me So how do we win?

📻 Home is Wherever I’m With You [Gen, 2.6k] 🖋️ Author: persephoneapple

🎵 Summary: Harry plans on proposing to Draco tonight, but it takes a Prophet article and a conversation between Draco and Pansy to realise how much Draco means to him.

📻 When the remembering is done [E, 24.8k] 🖋️ Author: Sassy3 / @sassy-sassy3

🎵 Summary: “–and we’ll make sure that you can stay at home as long as possible before it will be too hard to manage,” Potter finished. Draco could only blink, trying to make sense of the words he had heard before and after he zoned out. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I’m sorry, Potter. Why wouldn’t she be able to live at home?” Draco Malfoy leads a quiet life. Sure, he doesn’t really like his job, and he never imagined he’d have to move back in with his parents at the manor, but at least he has his lovely son Scorpius to dote on. The only problem is that it gets… a bit lonely. But when his mother starts behaving strange and forgetful, he finds himself in need of help from the one person he never reconciled with after the war.

📻 If you smile at me again, I may do something stupid [M, 6.9k] 🖋️ Author: @emilattes

🎵 Summary: Draco made his peace with Harry Potter and their failed relationship two years ago. He's happy with his new boyfriend, but when Harry becomes the man Draco needed him to be, he finds it's much harder to ignore their history.

📻 smoke break [E, 4.3k] 🖋️ Author: saltwatergarden / @talkingtravesties

🎵 Summary: The first few times, they hovered a bit; Draco offered wine and they sat there and sipped and made small talk, until finally Potter would snap and say, “this is stupid,” and reach out to pull Draco into a kiss. After a while, they fell into a rhythm. Sometimes Potter would be in a rush, and he’d just throw himself at Draco the second he was through the door. Other times, he seemed intent on torturing Draco with his slow and teasing kisses. Potter rarely stayed the night, typically Flooing home after they were done, and they never went out, or, for that matter, met at Potter’s place. Draco was very aware of what he was to Potter—a convenience—and despite his pride, he accepted it, because he knew it was the most he was ever going to get from Potter, and far more than he deserved.

📻 4th Day of the New Show [M, 6.2k] 🖋️ Author: @meandminniemcg

🎵 Summary: Lucius, freshly released from Azkaban, shows up at Draco's show. And Harry has been nervous all day. How does Draco handle the situation?

📻 I Want More? [E, 10.7k] 🖋️ Author: @drarryismymuse

🎵 Summary: Draco had successfully avoided British wizarding society for eight years, until necessity drove him to attend a swanky Ministry event. A chance encounter at that event sparks a passionate affair that just might change the course of Draco’s entire life.

📻 Until It All Comes Undone [E, 38.5k] 🖋️ Author: @mystickitten42 

🎵 Summary: Following his confrontation with Voldemort, Harry returns from King’s Cross Station completely changed. He wakes up at Privet Drive with no memory of his past, the war or magic. Petunia, widowed and suffering from empty nest syndrome, is only too happy to turn Harry into Dudley 2.0. But something’s not quite right. Plagued by recurring nightmares, Harry can’t help but feel something is missing. A bottle of his cousin’s LSD helps him to forget his worries… Magic may not be real, but the hallucinations and the hot blond he meets all feel pretty magical to Harry. Having turned his back on his family, Draco is determined to start over and do the right thing. But he’s never made good decisions when it comes to Harry Potter. When Potter—presumed dead, but very much alive—unexpectedly returns, Draco will do anything for a second chance. Even if it means pretending not to know who he is…

📻 When the Day Met the Night [M, 5.7k] 🖋️ Author: Albuss

🎵 Summary: When the day met the night, all was golden in the sky. In the middle of summer. The Battle of Hogwarts is through, and Harry, somehow, isn't. Draco isn't either. In rebellion against all they have endured, the two embark on a summer of adventure, seeking an ember of hope in the darkness. What they find is unforgettable.

📻 Born to Drown [M, 3.2k] 🖋️ Author: @floydig

🎵 Summary: Draco drives a Knight Bus in the slums of Paris. Sometimes his passengers remind him of Harry. But Harry left years ago. Now, Harry is married to Ginny, and Draco drives a bus. You laugh. “Sorry, I don't know why I’m laughing. It’s really not funny—your dad being dead and shrivelled.” “Fuck off.” I turn to face you. Your eyes are red, your pupils almost blown. Your skin is grey-tinged and sallow, and you're not the one who’s dead. “Merlin, Potter,” I say, hoarse. “How much bloody Dreamless did you shoot up this time?” “Enough for me to live.” You grin wide. “You want me to be alive, don’t you?” Your raw-bitten lips, your chipped teeth, your fucking mouth. I hate all of them, but really I don’t.

📻 Stop And Stare [T, 36.5k] 🖋️ Author: devilishcries

🎵 Summary: After surviving your everyday war-torn childhood, Harry had found a constant rhythm to his life. The thing is, he didn't quite like it. It was repetitive, dull, and he badly wanted to switch it up. So, when he stumbled upon Draco Malfoy on the verge of committing arson in a muggle library, he proposed a deal neither could refuse. (Well, Malfoy was desperately trying to refuse it. But that wasn't the point!) What he failed to factor in was how pretty Malfoy's hands were. One thing led to another, and suddenly, he was obsessed with the idea of holding them.

📻 Wicked Game [E, 20.9k] 🖋️ Author: @cassiopeiasshadow

🎵 Summary: Harry and Draco fall into a spring that allows them to enter into each other’s dreams - but Harry doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, not at first. Why does he keep seeing Draco having kinky sex with a dream version of Harry? And furthermore, why does he like it? Morpheus’ tail twitched irritably. “I warned you away from the poppies. The blame lies with you.” “Me? Potter’s to blame for this, he’s the one who dragged me out to this miserable -” “You would do well not to insult the home of those whom you ask for help,” said Morpheus coolly, though Harry saw a bit of detached amusement in his expression. Malfoy had no self awareness. It’s adorable how stupid he is, Harry thought, and then caught himself thinking Malfoy was adorable and became deeply troubled. “I’m…” Malfoy closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Sorry. Please - I need advice. I can’t keep him out of my dreams.”

📻 Dedication and Desperation [T, 6.1k] 🖋️ Author: meditationsinemergencies / @meditationswrites

🎵 Summary: Diagnosed with a rare and serious illness, Draco has mostly given up until Harry comes to visit.

📻 Famous [E, 23.9k] 🖋️ Author: fwooshy / @fw00shy

🎵 Summary: It's a couple of years after the war, and Harry's bored of models now, the same way he's bored of Ron's constant nagging, bored of his Weasley monogram knitwear, bored of the same fucking grin that greets him when he hands his fire-truck red Bugatti over to the valet every night. He wants to find—well, he isn't sure what he wants. Anything but models. Harry is in the mood for...messy. And Draco Malfoy's looking like a walking disaster in the making.

📻 stitched and sewn [E, 7.9k] 🖋️ Author: @wheezykat

🎵 Summary: Harry shudders, fingertips pulsing against Draco’s thighs. He can feel the sharp, metal edge of Harry’s wedding band digging into his flesh, knows he’ll have a bruise there in the morning, a small imperfection that only he’d be able to see. It’s one of the only marks he’ll vanish, not wanting to think about its implications; the rest he’ll keep for himself. Slowly, Harry relaxes, shoulders sinking, breaths changing their cadence to a new tempo. Resigned, surrendered to this dance they do.

📻 Watch the Castles Burn [E, 21.3k] 🖋️ Author: @moonflower-rose

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy knows better than to get involved with Harry Potter. If only someone would have reminded him of that six months sooner, then maybe he wouldn't be in quite such a large mess.

🎶 H/D Wireless Podfic 🎶

📻 Modern Love [E, 61k, 5h29m] 🎙️ Podficcer: @lastontheboat 🖋️ Author: tackytiger

🎵 tackytiger’s original summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is. And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what’s he doing right, that Harry isn’t? Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years. And that’s what starts it all.

📻 [Podfic] How Can I Live Without You? [Gen, 2.2k, 15min 29sec] 🎙️ Podficcer: Static_Whisper 🖋️ Author: ununquadius

🎵 ununquadius’ original summary: After Draco's death, Harry wonders how can he live without the one he loves when he's so far away.

📻 [Podfic] Keep Holding On [M, 33.3k, 3hrs 37min] 🎙️ Podficcer: @thunder-of-dragons 🖋️ Author: gnarf

🎵 gnarf’s original summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget. Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on the request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state. Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse. Making new allies, and losing old ones along the way, will hopefully be worth it in the end.

📻 [Podfic] Kill, Fuck, Marry [E, 12.7k, 1:27:55] 🎙️ Podficcer: @timothysboxers  🖋️ Author: lettersbyelise 

🎵 lettersbyelise’s original summary: Malfoy leans toward him with a baleful look. “I do believe Pansy Parkinson, my best friend, paid you to spend the evening with me. It’s my birthday, Potter. So you’re going to get off your Gryffindor arse, and you’re going to dance with me. I want to dance. I want to win. I want that bloody trophy on my shelf before the end of the night.” Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

📻 [Podfic] You Still Look Like a Movie / You Still Sound Like a Song [T, 3.2k, 19:43 min] 🎙️ Podficcer: bluedreaming / @blue--dreaming 🖋️ Author: shilo1364

🎵 shilo1364’s original summary: Harry Potter doesn't want to attend his ten-year Hogwarts Reunion Ball. He doesn't want to dance. And he *definitely* doesn't want to remember his former lover, Draco Malfoy. Of course, his life has never really been dictated by what he wants.

[rodr1cks]

manic pixie pizza girl | 1.4k

fluff; you’re rodrick’s favorite delivery girl

“12 Surrey Street,” you mumbled to yourself, plopping down into your car. You sped out of the parking lot, ready to get your last delivery of the night over with.

You pulled up to the house and grabbed the five pizzas from your passenger seat and headed towards the home.

You knocked on the scarlet colored door a few times. And then a few times again when the first knocks went unanswered. You were met with silence.

You could hear ridiculously loud music from where you stood outside and you were growing irritated. You knew there was somebody home and if these pizzas didn’t get paid for you were a deadman.

You tried one last time, delivering three extra hard knocks to the door and ringing the doorbell at least twice.

At last, the door swung open, revealing the most attractive boy you’d ever seen. Your annoyance quickly reduced to a dull afterthought.

The boy called back inside, “Yeah these mom bucks are a gold mine!” He turned to face you again.

“H-hi, uh, pizza?” You stammer. He nodded at you curiously, “Yeah… Pizza.”

“Right, that’ll be $52.50, please.”

What was happening to you? You had laid your eyes on the raven headed boy for less than sixty seconds and you felt like you were disintegrating in front of his gaze. Shakily, you took the cash from his hand.

“Keep the change,” he winked at you. Suddenly, you couldn’t move, or speak, or breathe. You held up your hand, waving awkwardly as he closed the door.

You practically sprinted back to your car, ready to soak in the humiliation from your previous interaction.

The next day, you couldn’t stop thinking about the interaction you had on Surrey Street. The boy’s deep brown eyes were ingrained into your memory. You even made a note of the small mole that sat next to his eyebrow. He was tall and slim and wait, was he wearing eyeliner?

It was agonizingly painful to get through your day.

It was a saturday, so you were delivering pizzas back to back the entire day.

Your night was finally coming to an end. You had one more delivery slated before you could go home and absolutely crash. Your coworker handed over the order.

“Oh, and they specifically requested you to deliver this, by the way,” your coworker rattled off, nonchalantly. “They said to send the awkward girl with the black car.

That was you alright.

Your heart skipped in your chest. You tried to contain your hope, telling yourself there was no way he would ever ask for you.

You cleared your throat, “And what is the address on that one?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Looks like it’s 12 Surrey Street.”

Your jaw fell to the floor.

“Do you know them, y/n?”

You stuttered, unsure of what to say, “Oh, u-uhm, no, not exactly.”

The drive over to the now familiar house was nerve-wracking. Your mind was racing.

Oh, god. You probably smelled like pizza and you probably looked like garbage and- Your navigation system pulled you from your thoughts. “You have arrived,” the electronic voice droned out.

No turning back now.

Before exiting your car, you made an effort to somewhat fix your appearance. It wasn’t easy, but you improved your looks at least a little bit. You also made sure to reapply your perfume.

You grabbed the pizza from the passenger side, only one box this time. You slowly approached the door, your anxiety running rampant.

You rapped on the door three times and rang the doorbell. Tonight, the door was answered almost immediately, as if somebody had been awaiting your arrival.

“Hey,” the boy from the previous night greeted you with a slight smirk.

So he does wear eyeliner.

He was leaning against the doorway, one arm elevated, holding the top of the doorframe. You allowed your eyes to linger on his biceps a little too long.

“Is that for me?” He asked, knowing good and well it was.

You nodded, drool nearly departing from your bottom lip.

You opened your mouth to tell him the total, but he spoke before you.

“This might be weird but do you wanna come in? I won’t kill you or anything, promise.”

What? The? Fuck?

Is he serious? Okay, play it cool, y/n.

You nodded again, letting out a small squeak. So much for playing it cool.

He stepped back into the house, holding the door open for you. You passed under his arm and into the inviting atmosphere.

You hovered awkwardly in the entryway, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“Well, are you gonna tell me your name?”

“Oh right, of course, I-I’m y/n. Do I get to know your name?”

“I guess I can tell you. I’m Rodrick. You might’ve heard of me. I kinda run a band, Löded Diper.”

You’d never heard of it.

“Oh, yeah! Sounds familiar, actually!” You lied to protect his ego.

His eyes lit up, thrilled by your response.

“Wanna see my setup?” The pizza you brought was long forgotten.

Part of you knew that wasn’t really a question. Rodrick led you through the hallway and into the garage. It was covered with string lights and Löded diper posters. There was a small couch and coffee table against one of the walls.

“Please, y/n, have a seat. Take a moment to digest the man cave.”

He played a couple sets for you and honestly, he was better than you had expected.

After what was probably half an hour, he retired his drumsticks. You gave him a small round of applause and he gave you a dramatic bow.

You smiled up at him.

He plopped down next to you, resting an arm on the couch behind you.

“So… y/n, the ‘rents won’t be home for a while. We could… watch a movie or something. If you want.”

You still couldn’t believe this was happening.

“U-uh sure, what do you have?”

He smiled, immediately rattling off movie titles until one piqued your interest.

“Scream it is.”

Rodrick showed you up to his room. It was decorated similarly to the garage, complete with band and movie posters, colorful lights, and some miscellaneous items scattered on the floor.

One item being a playboy magazine. You blushed and he kicked it under the bed, attempting to laugh it off.

“Uhm, sit anywhere you’d like.” He was the awkward one now. Rodrick fumbled with the dvd, eventually sliding it into the disc player.

Despite this being your favorite movie, you found it impossible to pay attention. Rodrick had found a seat right next to you on his couch.

You were staring at Rodrick through the corner of your eye, unable to break eye contact from his fiddling hands. You watched the veins in his arms contract and flex with every small movement he made. You were enamoured.

Your breath caught as he moved his hand to rest on your upper thigh.

He looked over at you, searching for your approval, “Is this okay?”

You nodded as your heart rate increased rapidly. He began rubbing his thumb in gentle circles over your smooth skin. You could feel heat blistering in your cheeks and you were suddenly grateful that the only light illuminating your face came from the flickering tv.

You glanced over at rodrick, his pale skin and rosy lips glowing in the dim lighting. You wanted nothing more than to feel his plush lips on yours.

A surge of confidence rushed over you and you rolled onto his lap.

You repeated his own question to him, “Is this okay?” You could see his jaw fall open slightly as he nodded excitedly.

He placed his large hands on the small of your waist. He smirked at you, “How about this?”

You rolled your eyes at the little game the two of you had begun.

“And what about,” You leaned in and kissed him slowly. Your lips moved in sync perfectly. He tasted like sour candy and gas station icee.

“This?”

He pretended to think for a moment, “Hmm… not quite sure about that one. Let’s try again so I can be sure.”

He didn’t have to ask you twice.

You kissed him again, prying past his pliant lips with your tongue. This kiss was far longer and far more sensual. Rodrick’s grip on your waist tightened as your lip lock progressed.

You pulled away from him and broke the silence, “You owe me $15.29 for that pizza, by the way.” You smirked at him playfully, having a feeling the rest of the night was going to be more fun than you could’ve imagined.

+ hi guys i promise i see your requests and i will write them!! this was in my drafts and i wanted to post hope u enjoy c: also pls feel free to message me or send me asks abt anything and everything!!!

[gallifrey1sburning]

Hi 👋 a prompt you can take or leave: Draco is very unsure whether he is being flirted with or this is an extension of their office rivalry that he doesn't understand (or the reverse!) Ty!

@skeptiquex and @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere, I read both of your prompts back to back, and they worked really well together, so I squished them into one. I hope you enjoy! Thank you both for sending me things, and thanks to @mxmaneater for the fast beta ❤️

—

The Tally

“One more for me!” Harry crowed, scratching a new tally mark next to his name on the chalkboard behind Draco’s head. “Better luck next time, Malfoy.” The board had a partner behind Harry’s desk, and the tallies recorded on one would reflect on the other, but Harry took great joy in invading Draco’s space and rubbing his victories in his face at every opportunity. Not that Draco was any better. It was part of the fun.

“Please, that one hardly counted,” Draco objected reflexively. “You only caught him because you tripped, for Merlin’s sake. Hardly an impressive arrest.” 

Harry shrugged and grinned, perching on the edge of Draco’s desk. “An arrest is an arrest.”

“Whatever,” Draco grumped. He and Harry had been playing this game for over a year now, and the margin was always extremely close. Harry was just barely ahead, at the moment, but Draco would catch up to him soon. He and Parvati had a potions ring bust coming up that Harry and Weasley weren’t involved in. Once that was done, he’d have overtaken him, and the smug expression currently gracing his colleague’s face would disappear along with his lead.

“So, any big weekend plans?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s pout.

Draco dropped the expression when it failed to produce the desired reaction. “Nothing too exciting. Yourself?”

“I’ve got tickets for the Puddlemere game on Saturday, actually. Ron was supposed to come, but something came up, so I’m trying to find someone else who might want to go. It would be a shame for the ticket to go to waste.” Harry was biting his lip and looking hopeful, and for just a moment, Draco thought— but no. If he’d wanted to ask, he would have asked, he told himself firmly. 

Taking care to keep his expression light, Draco pondered for a moment before saying. “I think McCutcheon is a Puddlemere fan. Maybe try him?”

“Oh, right.” Draco almost thought that Harry looked disappointed for a moment, but on second glance, his expression was clear and friendly. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll see if he’s free. Have a great weekend, Draco. Parvati.” He knocked his knuckles against the desktop twice before straightening and walking off, hands in pockets. Draco watched him go, sighing as he rounded the corner. It really was a pleasure watching him walk away.

He was brought back to reality by his partner smacking him in the back of the head with a stack of paperwork. “Ow! What the fuck, Patil?”  

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she hissed, looking even more exasperated with him than usual. “Every time he’s over here, you spend the rest of the day mooning, and he finally asks you out, and you say NO?!” 

“I do not moon!” He did moon, and he knew it, but he wasn’t about to say so. He still had his pride. “And he didn’t ask me out, either.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“He didn’t! He just said he had an available ticket! He very clearly had an opening to invite me, if he wanted to, and he very clearly didn’t.” There had been a number of moments like this, in recent months, and Parvati kept insisting that Harry was flirting with Draco. For his part, Draco kept insisting that she mind her own business, because she obviously could not read Harry Potter at all if she thought he was interested in Draco.

“You are an absolute moron.” Parvati shook her head in disbelief, but let it drop.

— 

They made the bust on Tuesday. Monday had been a rush of preparations and contingency planning and final logistics, and the stakeout had lasted all day, but in the end, it had been worth it—they’d brought in six players in one sweep and were confident that at least one of them would give up the rest in exchange for sentencing leniency. Draco had dropped into bed exhausted but elated.

He was still riding high when he sauntered into Harry and Weasley’s office on Wednesday. He leaned ostentatiously over Harry’s desk, stretching almost directly over his perpetually-tousled head to grab a piece of chalk and carefully add six perfectly straight tally marks to his own side of the board, giving him the lead by three. 

“And that’s how you do it,” he gloated as he straightened, smirking smugly down at Harry. “Suck it, Potter.”

Across the office, he heard Weasley groan and mumble something that sounded suspiciously like ‘he wishes’ under his breath. Harry looked a bit pink, but still smirked right back up at Draco, so it was probably just the heat. “Played that one close to the chest, didn’t you? But don’t worry, I’ve got something in the pipeline. I’ll be back on top before you know it.”

In Draco’s peripheral vision, he saw Weasley bang his head against his desk. “I’m getting tea,” he announced, stalking out of the office. Draco raised an eyebrow at Potter, who shrugged. 

Now that he was here, Draco didn’t quite want to leave yet, so he searched for something else to talk about. “How was the game?” he finally asked.

“Huh? Oh, the Quidditch game. Yeah, I didn’t end up going, actually.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, not making eye contact. “Wasn’t really in the mood.” 

Draco wrinkled his brow, not really sure what to make of that, but then Harry asked a question about the potions bust, and Draco forgot about it, instead focusing on a dramatic retelling of his glorious victory.

— 

Harry’s next arrest came after a particularly brutal double homicide. It was all anyone was talking about when he arrived that morning, but, despite Draco’s expectations (and perhaps anticipation), Harry didn’t appear at his desk to brag about it. He was feeling a bit anxious by the time he finally saw him passing by his door in the late afternoon, and the feeling only grew when he did. Harry had bags under his eyes, and his usually confident posture was slumped. He didn’t look as though he had slept. He also didn’t look like he was going to stop.

“Hey,” Draco said, rising from his desk to catch him before he passed by completely. “Haven’t seen you today.” Are you okay?, he didn’t say, but he thought it was probably audible in his tone anyway.

“Oh. Hey, Draco.” Harry looked up at him, seeming a little lost. He looked hollow behind his eyes, and Draco could feel his eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Yeah, I’ve been…” he trailed off and glanced past Draco, into his office, to where the chalkboard hung prominently on the back wall. He seemed to curl even further in on himself. “I don’t want to count this one, okay?” he said, finally. “It doesn’t really feel like a victory.”

“Yeah, of course,” Draco said immediately, and he suddenly felt completely helpless. “Can I—” he hesitated, and then put a tentative hand on Harry’s slumped shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

He was half sure that Harry would pull away from his touch, but he didn’t. If anything, he seemed almost to relax into it. “I’m okay,” he said, and it wasn’t convincing, but Draco didn’t want to push it. “Thanks, though.” He reached up and gripped Draco’s hand where it lay on his shoulder, so briefly that his hand was gone before Draco could even fully register it, and then stepped back, continuing on his way.

Draco stood and stared at the chalkboard for a while when he got back to his desk. Then, he picked up his eraser and carefully removed one tally from his own side.

— 

Their next bust, they were on together. A small Neo-Death Eater group that the department had been keeping an eye on, but who hadn’t done much of anything until now, had suddenly decided to make a grand statement by threatening a large-scale attack on Diagon Alley if their (entirely insane) demands weren’t met. Needless to say, the Ministry was not interested in negotiation, and the whole Auror force had been called out en masse. 

Somehow, Harry and Weasley had ended up working in tandem with Draco and Parvati, and now Harry and Draco were back to back in a dead-end alley, dueling a pair that seemed to be the last desperate stragglers, while Parvati watched the street, ready to block anyone who might try to interfere, and Weasley stood to the side, clutching his ribs and sweating but still managing to hold a fairly steady shield charm. There was an unconscious, Incarcerous-ed body on the ground near him; his Stunner’s aim had been true, but the assailant had gotten off one last hex before it hit. He wasn’t in imminent danger—Draco had been hit by the same spell before, and it was extremely painful but didn’t cause any lasting damage once reversed—and although that would be easy enough to do, they didn’t have a wand to spare at the moment.

Harry and Draco worked together like they’d been born to it, and if their respective partnerships hadn’t been working so well for so long, Draco might have considered it a waste that they weren’t paired together. Spells flew around them like fireworks, and they cast and dodged and shielded and attacked without speaking, without pause, until, suddenly, it was over. 

“Ron!” Harry cried as soon as his wand dropped, but Parvati was already by his side, countering the spell, and Ron’s body relaxed almost immediately.

“I’m fine, mate. Great work.” 

Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and then turned to Draco, chest still heaving with exertion. Draco couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face even as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel sweat tracking down his face, his neck, his back, and he was streaked with dirt and—he suspected—blood; but they had won, and no one had died, and he was almost high on the rush of it. “I’m not sure who those count for,” he said, half laughing. “It happened too fast. Did you catch who took them down?”

Harry was grinning now, too, the buzzing energy of their win almost visibly coursing through him. He beamed at Draco, and he looked so fucking beautiful, even though he was just as dirty and dishevled as Draco was, that Draco couldn’t help but glance, just for a second, at those lips that he’d surreptitiously observed for so long as they stretched wide with joy. When he snapped his eyes back up, however, it was clear that Harry had seen, because the smile had morphed into something that Draco couldn’t put a name to, and his eyes were searching Draco’s for something. And then— 

“Fuck it,” he heard Harry say, and then there were hands on either side of his head and he was being—quite thoroughly—kissed, right there in the alley. He melted into it immediately, pulling Harry closer to himself almost instinctively. There was an iron tang of blood as their tongues met, and Draco wasn’t sure whose it was, but he didn’t particularly care. He didn’t care about much of anything, right now, besides Harry’s hands, and Harry’s lips, and the press of Harry’s chest and hips against his own, and whether Harry might want to reenact this moment later but somewhere with a bed and a lot less clothes.

“I TOLD YOU!” Parvati yelled triumphantly in the background.

“Fucking finally.” Ron sounded both amused and exasperated.

Draco ignored them in favor of sliding his hands into Harry’s birdsnest of hair, pulling lightly and making him groan into the kiss. He supposed this one counted as a win for both of them.

Also on AO3

[onionsoop]

Blackmail /// Tendou Satori x f!Reader /// (+18)

Summary: During a game for Shiratorizawa, you plan to slip a love letter to Ushijima until Tendou catches you in the act. After stealing you letter, he blackmails you into cheering for the game without bra or panties and later fucks you the bathroom as one last request to get your letter back.

Length: 5k

Tags & Warnings: dub-con, exhibitionism, fingering, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, semi-possessive Tendou, praise (kind of) Tendou calls you a slut once

Authors Note: Hey, so this fic kinda doesn’t make sense emotion wise for Y/N with the soft ending, but its whatever. I had this idea for a fic and my brain refused to let me write anything else until I got it out, so enjoy. I just finished Season 3 of Haikyu and oml I simp Tendou so much I just had to write a fic for him. Regardless, sorry for any spelling or grammer mistakes and I hope you enjoy :)

Two days stood between you and the big game on Saturday. You had joined the cheer team for Shiratorizawa at the start of this year and it was truthfully one of the best decisions you had ever made. You had met so many wonderful and kind people during your time there, and most importantly, you had fallen in love. During all the times you had been in the stands cheering for the team, you had gotten accustomed to having your eyes fall to Ushijima, watching the way he moved and played— how his muscles moved under his uniform. Despite only truly speaking to him once or twice, his silent and brooding nature had utterly charmed you, leading you to the situation you were in now, waiting to give him a love letter.

You knew it was a bit of a cheesy thing to do, but you couldn’t imagine actually telling him in person. Your current plan was to slip it into his bag sometime before or after a game, but the idea of going through with it created a sinking feeling of anxiety in your stomach. So, you decided to pick a day, a day where a game was going to happen so he might be in a good mood. But, as each day passed and you got closer to Saturday you felt your choice to do it weighing on you more and more. How was he going to react? Maybe he didn’t even remember you… No, you had to stay hopeful, after all, you had already gotten this far.

The big day had finally come, and you were a nervous wreck. The entire time you were getting into your cheer uniform you couldn’t stop glancing at the corner of the envelope sticking out of your backpack. Thoughts of being rejected previous times by guys in elementary and middle school filled your head, and the more you thought about giving the note to Ushijima the less you wanted to do it.

You finished changing and looked at the clock— only ten minutes until it was time to head to the stadium. You picked up the envelope from the place in its bag and clutched it tightly in your hands. You felt like you were on a spy mission as you made your way through the hallways trying your best to seem unsuspicious. It seemed like everyone was watching you as you made your way to the boys’ locker room and your heart thundering in your chest was the only sound you could hear as you made your way there.

As you got closer to the entrance, the number of people was beginning to dwindle, sending a wave of relief over you. You didn’t want anyone seeing you entering in case word got around that someone had given Ushijima a confession. As the last few people in the hallway were leaving, you made yourself seem very invested in a poster on the wall, keeping an eye out for anyone approaching. Finally, the last person turned the corner and you darted over to the doorway, peeking inside. It looked completely empty, your eyes scanning the bags and towels strewn around the room.

Tip-toeing inside, you nervously looked for the bag with his name on it, finding it in the corner, zipped up and tidy. With shaky hands, you pulled out the envelope, trying to build up the courage to slip it inside. You felt a shiver go up through your whole body and suddenly you whipped around, coming face to face with Tendou Satori who was looming over your shoulder with a surprised sneer on his face. You jumped backward, scrambling to hide the letter behind you, and act natural.

“Whatcha got there?” he said, leaning over you and snatching the letter out of your hands. Panic was the only emotion you felt as he took it from your hands. You didn’t know where he had come from, you thought you had entered discreetly, but apparently you had missed him during your frantic search.

“N-nothing, give it back,” you said, trying to snatch the letter back but Tendou held it just out of your reach with his long arms.

“Is this a love letter?!” he said, peering up at the pink script you had written on the envelope and the heart sticker you had sealed it with. You could feel your face going bright red as regret about your decoration choices filled you.

“Oh-ho-ho, now this is good. This’ll definitely get a kick out of the team, especially Ushijima,” he said, giving you a sly smile, knowing exactly how he was making you feel. You felt tears pick at the corners of your eyes and your lower lip beginning to tremble. You knew Tendou was just saying it to get a rise out of you but the words still hurt. It wasn’t like him to tease other people so much, but the way he saw you guilty standing there, trying to hide your letter made him-- you were just too cute to not mess with.

“Give it back… please…” you said weakly, casting your eyes downward trying to regain your composure.

“Mm? And why should I do that?” Tendou said, finally taking his eyes off the envelope and shifting them to you. You hated the way that a smug expression still adorned his face, you knew that Tendou had a reputation for being a cocky and overzealous guy, which was why you had tried to avoid him any time you could, but now you regretted not gaining some good footing with him before now.

“Please… I’ll do anything,” you mumbled, desperation laced through your voice.

“Anything?” he said, punctuating the syllables as he said the word, “Now that's quite the offer.” He leaned back on his heels, letting out a “hmm,” pretending to think as he slowly waved the letter in the air between two fingers. His eyes shifted down to you again and the way you glared up at him through your eyelashes, clenching your fists at your sides. A smile grew on his face as he watched you, savoring how small and pathetic you looked trying to argue with him.

“I’ve got it. You’re on the cheer team, right? For this game I want you to go out there with no bra or panties.”

The shock was visible on your face as he said those last words. A playful grin was set on his face, but you could see that he was being serious in his eyes.

“You’re kidding… r-right?” you said, feeling your face start to go red again.

“Nope. But it's just one teensy request, I doubt anyone will notice,” he said nonchalantly, “Plus, you said you would do anything.” He still held the letter out of your reach, taunting you with it by waving back and forth, making a twinge of anger go through you.

You weighed your options, you knew you would be mortified if he shared that letter with the rest of the team, and it would probably get out to the cheer team as well making your life hellish, or you could do this. You looked down at your uniform, your skirt coming down to mid-thigh and your shirt only being the slightest bit cropped, no one would notice… right? You took a deep breath and answered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Fine, now give it back,” you said, lunging for the letter.

“Ah-ah-ah,” he teased, “you’ll get this back later, now hand ‘em over.” He held out a palm and stared at you, shoving your letter in his pocket.

“At least turn around pervert,” you hissed, causing Tendou to let out a chuckle. He luckily obliged and you stepped into a corner while he turned away. You quickly slid your panties down and unclasped your bra, making sure to keep your eyes on him the whole time. Once you had them off, you felt so open and exposed, making you instinctively cross your arms over your chest.

“Here,” you said, holding out your undergarments for Tendou. He snatched them from your hand and went over to shove them in his bag, keeping an eye on you as you stood in the corner of the room. The annoying smile that never seemed to leave his face was still there as he looked you up and down, taking in your exposed form, but you could see an intensity in his eyes that wasn’t there before, making you shiver.

“Alright then, see you after the game,” he said, as he lazily waved goodbye, picking up his bag and bringing it with him. As the door shut behind him it took you a minute to calm down and fully realize what happened.

Panic rose in your throat as you thought about walking out there and cheering for more than an hour. You wanted to sit down and hide in this room until the game was over, but you knew you would have to leave. Walking out there would be embarrassing, but it would only be worse if the team came back after and found you in this sorry state.

You began to walk forwards, legs shaky and unstable-- you felt tears begin to fill your eyes again but you took a deep breath and swallowed, forcing yourself to continue.

Once you got into the empty hallway, you felt more exposed than before. The wide-open space and the bright fluorescent lights above made you feel like you were on display for anyone who happened to walk by. There were only two minutes that remained before the game started, forcing you to pick up your pace as you walked down the hall. You were hyper-aware of the way that your skirt and shirt moved as you walked, making sure that you were keeping covered as you passed by the last few people waiting to head into the gym.

You finally made your way into the stand above the auditorium and joined the rest of your team. As you walked in you were truly grateful for your place in the second row of the group, making it so that you didn’t have to worry about people looking up your skirt. You were finally starting to get used to the feeling of your nipples brushing up against the fabric of your shirt, but the uncomfortable drafty feeling between your legs took a little more concentration to ignore.

Being in such a large crowd of people did nothing to calm your nerves as you waited for the players to enter, constantly checking that the back of your skirt hadn’t flipped up. The whistles blew down below, making you jump in your anxious state. The players filed in, all taking their time getting organized and lined up— you held your breath as you looked at the front, where your head cheerleader was standing, getting ready to start your routine, and you took one more look at the stadium preparing for the long game you were about to endure.

By the time the last point was scored and the whistle blew you wanted to cry tears of relief. The entire game had been a nightmare, each set coming to a deuce and dragging on far longer than it should have. Shiratorizawa had lost in the end, but at this point you didn’t even care, you just wanted to leave.

Throughout the game, you had felt only a constant rush of anxiety. Every jump and cheer and shake had sent waves of worry through you as you thought about all the people standing around you. After the first fifteen minutes of the game, you had gotten used to the weird sensations of not having any undergarments on, but the thought of someone finding out had kept you on edge the entire time.

Being able to sit down and relax felt like a godsend. The rest of the crowd was depressed and complaining about how we had lost, but you hadn’t watched much of the game and didn’t really feel like participating in the pity party.

Once the crowd was starting to dissipate, you rushed down the stairs and back to the boys’ locker room, keeping your skirt down the entire time with your hands. You stood a good ways away from the entrance, so as to not draw attention to yourself, and fervorously scanned the crowd for Tendou. The rest of the team was starting to arrive, including Ushijima, who put your heart in your throat as he walked by, but Tendou was nowhere to be seen.

Finally, when you were beginning to consider running off and looking for him, Tendou stalked by, a tired and annoyed look spread across his features. Once he caught sight of you, standing patiently against the wall, he grabbed your arm and started pulling you down the hall.

“W-wait, where are we going?” you asked, trying your best to keep up with his large stride.

“What, you don’t think I’m gonna give you back your belongings here, do you?” he said in a playful tone, but he couldn’t quite hide the tone of displeasure under it. You kept quiet the rest of the time while he dragged you off into an emptier part of the building and into the bathrooms. You weakly tried to pull away from his grasp, but his grip was tight on your arm as he pulled you around.

A wave of surprise hit you though, when he shoved you into a bathroom stall, locking the door behind both of you. He stood in front of you, hand against the stall door near your head, towering over your small figure.

“You want your letter back right?” he said, staring you down. You quickly nodded your head, beginning to feel uncomfortable, trying to gauge what he was planning.

“You’d be willing to do anything for it right?” he asked, leaning in closer to you to where you could feel his breath against your ear. It took you a second, but you nodded again, this time a little more hesitantly than before.

“How ‘bout you do me one more favor then, hmm?”

“Y-you said you would give it back now though,” you said, shuffling backwards, trying to get away from him in the confined space of the bathroom. His large figure made it hard for you to find any place away from him and you felt your back hit the door as you leaned away. Everything felt very claustrophobic and you felt heat rush to your face from how close he was to you.

He took a piece of your hair between two fingers and began to play with it idly.

“I know, I know, but I think it’s only fair that you do a little more for me, after all, we just lost the game, and I’m in a bit of a bad mood,” he said, a playful smile spreading across his lips again, “plus, seeing you like that the whole time was a little distracting, so if anything you’re a little bit at fault too.” You felt your face begin to burn as the implications of his words hit you and the stall suddenly felt far too small. He shifted his head to look into your eyes, hand coming around to grip your chin and keep you in place.

“Come on baby, just one little favor and you’ll get your letter back.” His other hand came down to your exposed waist and started making its way under your shirt, his fingers drawing playful circles on your skin.

You didn’t know what to say, the urge between getting away and retrieving your letter were warring with each other inside your mind, keeping you frozen where you stood. Having people find out about it would be humiliating, but the thought of having Tendou use you like this was almost worse. You opened your mouth to respond but nothing came out, your body refused to act. His stare still bored into your eyes, waiting for an answer, but you couldn’t respond.

“I’ll take your lack of protest as a yes then,” he said, brushing a thumb across your cheek before hiking your shirt up. You felt his lips slam into yours, pinning you against the door in a deep kiss and in that moment everything else seemed to fade away-- all you could focus on was the feeling of his lips invading yours. They were warm and inviting and almost made you feel as if you wanted more, but the rational part of your brain was still screaming for you to run away.

Tendou’s hand moved from its place on your face and slid down to your ass, pulling you into him. Your hands went up between the two of you and rested on Tendou’s chest, feeling the sculpted muscles underneath his shirt. It had been so long since you had been touched like this and your body craved more but remembering who Tendou was and what he was making you do caused you to hesitate. You weren’t sure if you wanted to push him away or not, but you at least kept your hands there to keep some distance between you as your brain scrambled to try and make a decision.

You felt Tendou swipe his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for entrance to the rest of your mouth, and you reluctantly opened your lips to let him inside. He was rough and demanding with his movements, making heat creep down to your core.

The hand that was under your shirt crept up and roughly squeezed your breast and you felt a small noise slip out of your throat as it happened. You knew you were touched starved, but this was absurd, you shouldn’t be enjoying this. Tendou had blackmailed you into those slutty actions during the game, and now he was blackmailing you yet again into this— but you were enjoying it, you were even beginning to reciprocate with your lips and tongue.

Your head was too adrenaline-filled for you to think properly, and no matter how much you tried to concentrate on being rational, the feeling of Tendou pressed up against you with his tongue in your mouth brought you away every time. You could feel his movements getting rougher as he groped you, and he pulled away from your lips, a grin returning to his face as he looked down at you.

“Bend over for me baby, will you?” he said, not giving you a chance to respond before grabbing your hips to help turn you around. You placed your shaky hands against the door and sucked in a breath as you felt his hands slide up your thighs and under your skirt. Your hands felt hot against the cool plastic of the door but all you could feel was Tendou’s fingers creeping closer and closer to the wet heat between your legs, pulling on your skin and spreading your folds.

“Look at you, already soaked and I’ve barely even touched you,” he said, making your face go red. You tried to stutter out a protest, but you knew you were completely guilty. A small part of yourself felt ashamed at the way you were getting wet over Tendou’s touches— you shouldn’t be feeling this way, it was wrong, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted at the feeling of Tendou’s fingers brushing up against your entrance before pulling away, causing you to let out a small gasp. A wave of heat rushed through your body, making your head fuzzy— leaving only the desire for more pleasure in your mind.

Tendou could feel the tent in his pants growing larger as he viewed your supple thighs and ass in front of him. He had thought about this scene so often, thinking about how good you would look bent over for him, ready to take his cock, but he had to stay patient. Both of his hands grabbed your ass to keep you stable before he bent down and gave a slow lick to the inside of your thigh, making you shudder.

You could feel your hands beginning to get slick against the door as you prepared for the sensation of Tendou’s mouth against you. Once you felt his tongue swipe up against your cunt you felt your back arch and couldn’t contain the small whimper that you let out. All rational thinking was out the window and all you wanted was the feeling of him all over you.

The feeling of him lapping at your folds was tortuous, and every time you felt his tongue brush up against your clit it made your legs tremble beneath you. Despite the fact that Tendou could feel your legs beginning to get shaky, he only wanted to see you submit to him more. He tentatively slipped one finger inside of you, causing you to let out a high-pitched whine.

All you could focus on was the stretch of your insides from Tendou’s finger. He had sheathed it inside you suddenly, not letting you adjust to the feeling, and was now starting to rub against that spongy spot inside of you. You could feel your eyes beginning to go glossy from pleasure and you felt like your knees were about to give out. Tendou wasn’t giving you any time to adjust to the sensations and you could almost feel the hungry smirk on his face while he was playing with you.

When his other hand moved down to your clit it almost made you fall to your knees, but he made sure to hold you up, keeping you in your humiliating position for him to view. Almost every time he pushed his fingers into you you had to bite your lip to keep moans from coming out— any more and you didn't think you would be able to hold back.

Tendou let out a small chuckle as he watched you struggle to maintain your balance and keep quiet. He knew that you were in a secluded enough area where you could be loud, but seeing the pathetic attempt you gave only made you look more adorable. Seeing you in such a pitiful state was making it hard for him to keep his patience, but he knew he needed to stretch your tight little cunt out more before he would be able to fuck you how he wanted to.

Tendou slipped a second finger inside of you, making you clamp a hand over your mouth, and began scissoring inside of you, making sure you would be ready to take his cock.

“Good girl, you’re doing so well, you know that right?”

You felt a wave of heat go through you at the praise along with the feeling of your pussy tightening up around his fingers— earning an approving “mm” from Tendou.

“Do you think you’re ready to take me, sweetheart?” he said, beginning to go rougher on your clit, causing you to let out a gasp. You desperately nodded your head and let out a small “mhm,” wanting to have him fill you up completely.

“Come on baby, use your words for me,” he said, stilling his motions until he got an answer from you.

“Y-Yes Tendou, p-please,”

“There you go, see you can do it,” he said, pulling his fingers out of you and standing up. It took all your strength, but you turned your head to look up at him and got to watch as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, greedily sucking off the residue from your cunt. The sight made you clench around nothing and made your head go fuzzy at the thought of him enjoying the taste of you. You eagerly watched as he quickly pulled down his shorts and boxers, revealing his hard cock which already had a bead of precum at the tip.

“W-Wait T-Tendou we don’t have protection!” you said, collecting just enough consciousness to remember basic sex education.

“Shh don’t worry, I’ll pull out,” he said, placing a hand on your ass, rubbing soothing strokes with his thumb. You knew that you shouldn’t continue and that it wasn’t safe, but your pleasure-filled brain didn’t care. All you wanted was to feel him filling you up and stretching your tight little cunt out— you could worry about the consequences later.

The feeling of the tip of his cock pressing up against your entrance was enough to make you whine out his name, begging for more. Waiting was causing you too much agony and you began to buck your hips against him, trying to push him inside you.

“Eager aren’t we,” he said, his voice more strained than before. He slowly began to push his dick into you, causing your eyes to roll back and a needy moan to fall from your lips. You could hear his breathing getting ragged behind you as he got further into your tight cunt, filling you up more than you had ever been before. He was only halfway inside of you by the time he hit your cervix . The pain of having him so deep inside of you was masked by the utter ecstasy you felt from thinking about how much he was stretching you out.

Tendou was leaning over you, one hand gripping your hip while the other was wrapped around your waist pulling you up against him. You could hear his ragged breathing next to your head and the way his breath hitched as he pulled out of you before ramming back in.

He didn’t give you nearly enough time to adjust to his size, and the pace he was fucking you at was ruthless, causing a dull pain to form in your cunt as he began to bruise it. Eventually, though, you adjusted to the feeling of your walls being stretched so far and began to only feel the pleasure as his cock dragged along your slick insides.

You were unable to keep your mouth shut and had resorted to letting it hang open, allowing all your moans and whimpers to fall out. Your hands were beginning to slip against the door as Tendou continued to rail you and you scrambled to keep supporting yourself.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight… so, so tight, just for me…” Tendou mumbled, his eyes shut tight trying to concentrate on not cumming inside of you. The way you felt around him was better than he ever could have imagined. He had to make sure you came before him, he wanted to cum with you so badly— he needed to feel your walls flutter around his cock as you moaned his name.

“How does it feel, sweetheart? Does it feel good? Tell me it feels good. I wanna hear you say it,” he rambled, his movements becoming more sloppy as he continued to fuck into you. His hand moved down to your clit and began to roughly play with it, causing you to tighten up around him.

“I-It feels so good Tendou mm- I-I love it so much,” you whined, only halfway aware of what you were saying.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this for so long. I’ve been interested in you for so long too— but you only want him, you only want Ushijima don’t you, you fucking slut.” His words mixed with his harsh tone confused you as you tried to decipher the meaning of them. It was so hard to think with him pistoning into you like this, making you go loopy.

“Tell me that you love me, not him, I wanna hear you say it so badly,” he said, his fingers digging into your hip, sure to leave bruises.

You weren’t sure why you said it, but it slipped out of your mouth before you could truly think about it, “I-I love you Tendou, I-I love you more than anyone else.” Those words were enough to bring him right to the brink of orgasm, making him have to fully concentrate on fucking you as hard as he could to get you to cum first. The combination of his fingers rubbing your clit in tantalizing circles and the feeling of him ramming into your womb was what caused you to finish. You felt the tension in your stomach snap and you let out a loud moan as your walls spasmed around him. You heard Tendou mutter a string of curses, trying his best to remain calm and in control.

“Fuck, baby you’re so tight, I don’t know if I can pull out,” he said, his grip on you digging into your skin. In your fucked out head the thought of having him cum inside you was almost too much— despite your safety you wanted to feel it.

“P-Please, please cum inside me, please I want it so badly,” you moaned out, not even processing what you were saying. Even though he knew he should pull out, hearing your cute little voice beg for him to fill you up was too much for Tendou, making him ram into you a few more times before cumming with you. You could feel his hot cum spilling into your pussy and dripping out the sides, making your legs weak.

As you were both coming down all that could be heard was the heavy breathing from both of you echoing in the bathroom. Tendou pulled out, letting the mixture inside of you begin to drip out. He held you tightly, making sure that you didn’t fall over or hit your head on the door in front of you.

You felt so worn out once you came down from your orgasm. The only thing you wanted to do was to lay down next to him but you knew you couldn’t in such a confined space.

You slowly moved your arms, trying your best to maintain your balance as you turned around to wrap your arms around his neck. You both sat down, and Tendou cupped a hand behind your head, running his fingers through your hair. The thoughts about Ushijima and blackmail had completely left your mind and the feeling of him beneath you, strong and warm, was the only thing you wanted to focus on.

After a few minutes Tendou broke the silence, tilting your head up to look at him, “So, do you still want your letter back?”

You scowled at him, receiving a small laugh before you nestled back into his chest, ready to fall asleep.

[werenotadulting]

Routine Procedure pt. 5

Over the next couple of days, it was actually abnormal for Kate not to give me some special attention down there during a diaper change. Just woke up? Let's try using my vibrator on your soaked diaper. Need a change before lunch? How about reverse cowgirl while laying there on top of your fresh diaper. Time for your night diaper? Bedtime blowjob.

Don't get me wrong, Kate and I have always had a very good sex life, but this past week was unlike any other.

On Saturday, in the middle of a mid-afternoon change, was when Kate suggested we try getting out of the house for a bit.

"You really soak through these diapers quick, Mike. We're gonna have to see about getting some more soon."

"I suppose we should, right? I mean, they're working infinitely better than that condom thing," I said as I was laying back while Kate took care of wiping me down.

Despite what she had said about showing me how to change myself, she didn't seem to mind taking care of it, and I was in no rush to put a stop to it considering what was in it for me.

"That's very true. There was only that one minor leak you had last night, which I'm sure we can find a way to prevent in the future. I'll put in an order for some new diapers tonight, so they get here by Monday."

Kate secured the last tape and ran a finger along the elastic leg gathers. "You know, that new game store opened up in the mall on the other side of town. What do you say we stop over there and see how it is?"

I froze. Being diapered at home was one thing. Going out in public though.... Kate seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

"Mike. Earth to Mike. Remember what we talked about? No one is going to be paying attention to the size of your butt or the sound of your pants. And guess what? Even if they do, who cares? You have a medical need to wear diapers. Just like people who have trouble walking use canes, it's a medical thing. You didn't ask to be incontinent."

────────

I looked at myself in the mirror. My jeans appeared to do their job of concealing my diaper.

"You know," Kate popped up behind me in the reflection, "if you're so worried about people seeing, they do make onesies for adults. Just a thought."

I scoffed at her, and we headed off to the mall.

About 30 minutes later, we arrived. I couldn't help but notice that it seemed like there were a heck of a lot more people there than normal. Another 10 minutes later and we were finally able to find a parking space towards the back. As I got out of the car, I made sure my shirt was pulled down as far as it could go. It was all I needed for my shirt to ride up and expose my plastic waistband.

Kate grabbed my hand, but not before giving my padded butt a firm slap. The corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, and we walked hand-in-hand up to the mall.

────────

You know that feeling you get when it feels like someone is watching you? Yeah, it did not go away no matter how much time passed as we meandered through the mall.

Our first stop was in the food court, where we grabbed a late lunch of chicken and waffles. Kate went to order the food while I found a spot to sit down.

"All ready," Kate said as she walked up with a tray piled with chicken. "They accidentally made your lemonade a large, and I wasn't about time tell them they were wrong."

"It is the best homemade lemonade in town," I said, grabbing my plate off of the tray.

Kate set the tray down, then went to grab a couple of napkins. A few moments later, I noticed my shirt rising up and the back of my diaper being pulled open. I spun around and swatted the offending hand away, which turned out to belong to Kate.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Giving you a diaper check, what else?"

"We are in the middle of the mall!"

"It's been awhile since you had your diaper changed, and I know you are bad at knowing when you're at capacity," Kate gave me a 'prove me wrong' look.

"I'm fine!! Just... not out in broad daylight, please?" I pleaded.

"Well I didn't even get a chance to properly check just now, but if you say so...."

────────

After stopping in a couple clothing stores, ("Hey, we should think about getting you some new jeans. Those ones seem a little tight all of the sudden.") we finally made our way to the new gaming store. It was like a one-stop shop for gamers, with board games, collectibles, and video games. Towards the back, there were tables setup, where people could break out their games or card decks and hang out for a bit.

Once we had searched down all the aisles, we found ourselves in the back next to the gaming tables.

"Hey, we're looking for two more for Ticket to Ride! Do you guys want in?" said a blonde girl from a table in the corner. She and another girl were setting up the board, getting ready to start.

Kate's eyes grew to the size of saucers.

"Oh heck yes! I never lose at this game!" It was true, she did never lose, and she never let me hear the end of it whenever we played.

An hour later, and it was clear that it was between Kate and Melanie, the blonde girl, on who would be crowned victorious. The other girl and I had all but given up. Seeing that there was no way I could complete all my routes, I had long since resorted to my usual strategy of trying to sabotage Kate.

"Annnnnd 110, 111, 112. I have retained my crown," Kate gloated.

"Oh wonderful," I said, "I can't wait to hear about this all the way home."

"Well played, you two," Melanie chimed in. "Don't worry about cleaning up, we are actually waiting for some friends to come play a round."

"Oh thank you, that's so nice," Kate said as we both stood up to leave.

"Of course! It was nice meet....." Melanie trailed off, staring at my crotch.

Both Kate and I followed her gaze, and it was then that I saw that I'd had a major leak.

Large wet spots had formed down the inside of my jeans, as well as two half-moon  shapes on my butt. Looking at my chair, there was more evidence of my accident, there for all to see.

It was obvious to anyone looking what had happened.

I was speechless.

"Oh shit, we're so sorry! Let me just wipe this up..." Kate said as she frantically wiped the seat down with a tissue.

The girls were equally dumbstruck, as they watched Kate lead me out of the store waddling behind her.

────────

The feeling of eyes on me increased tenfold on the walk through the mall to the car. Without a jacket or anything to cover up with, we moved as fast as we could, whispers and giggles following us out.

In what seemed like an eternity later, we finally made it back to the car.

"I'll get the seats cleaned, don't worry baby, just get in." Kate pulled open her door and got the car started. I didn't need to be told twice, as I practically leaped into the car.

"That...I...I'm so embarrassed...." I was starting to get choked up, tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

"Hey, hey, there there sweetie, I'm sorry. That can't have been fun, I know. It's not your fault." Kate was rubbing my back, the car still in park.

"That doesn't make it any less humiliating! And it's not even like I had a little accident, Kate, my diaper leaked!" I was almost yelling, my emotions getting the better of me.

"Shhhh baby, it's okay, take deep breaths, it's going to be okay. We didn't know anyone there, no one important saw, you'll be fine."

I was still upset, but I listened to her, taking steadying breaths that at least got my heart rate under control. Seeing this, Kate started to back out of our parking spot.

"Let's get you home and into a bath, baby," Kate soothed. We drove on in silence for awhile as I continued to calm down.

I think," Kate broke the silence, "that we might want to consider getting you some thicker protection. Just to be safe, you know? What do you think?"

"I think that means I will definitely be waddling, and it will be obvious to everyone what I'm wearing," I said, staring out the window.

"Well, do you prefer people maybe noticing that you walk a little funny, or running the risk of leaking like happened back there?"

"I don't know Kate, I just...I don't want to think about it."

"I'll take care of it then, babe," Kate said, "those hospital diapers are notoriously cheap anyway. We'll find something that works better for you. And I'll look into some of those onesies, so you don't feel so self-conscious about your diaper sticking out."

"Yeah, whatever," I said, as we continued down the highway.

────────

Kate knew exactly where to look when she logged on to order new diapers.

Let's see, she thought, I think probably a case of ABU Simple Ultra. Maybe a mixed case with some fun prints? No, it was too soon to go all-in like that. I'll just add in another pack of PeekABUs. That's 90 diapers, so at 2-3 diapers a day, that should be good for a month. Better throw in some boosters, too. And set up a recurring monthly order, yes please.

With that order placed, it was then to the ODU website, where she settled on several of their basic onesies.

"All in good time, Kate," she muttered to herself as she looked longingly at all of the cute designs. She could just picture how adorable Mike would look in that dinosaur onesie.

She was so horny right now. The sight of Mike in his wet jeans, his face burning bright red. Her hand slipped down the front of her shorts.

Oh fuck, she thought, he was so humiliated. She rubbed her clit to the image of Mike standing there over the pee puddle on his chair while those girls looked on.

Had she taped on his diaper perhaps a little loose before they went to the mall? Yes.

Had she intentionally ordered Mike a large lemonade? Also yes.

Had she suspected during her impromptu diaper check at the food court that Mike would protest and insist he was fine? Triple yes.

Had she known those flimsy hospital diapers would fail sooner rather than later, and she could talk Mike into something a bit thicker?

Ding-ding-ding, we have a winner.

Kate closed the laptop and got up.

She had a diaper boy she needed to fuck.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Surrounded by Warmth

(again i hate title names lol)

something short and sweet for days 21 and 22.

cw: none

enjoy!!

1k words

Aelin woke up surrounded by warmth. The furnace that was her mate had an arm wrapped around her shoulder and the little ball of warmth that was their daughter in-between them had Aelin wishing that they could spend all day in bed to avoid the autumn chill, but it was Saturday and Aelin and Rowan promised Elentiya-Fenrys that they would go into town to visit the markets and shops.

And there was another reason why Aelin couldn't spend all day in bed; her bladder was about to burst. But getting out of bed was no easy feat, not as the movement woke up Elentiya and her little hand reached out and grabbed Aelin's arm, muttering “No, mama, stay.”

“I'll be back in a minute,” Aelin said, hoping that would placate her daughter, but it didn't work. Shaking her head wildly and pouting, Aelin added, “Do you want to join me?”

That got her out of bed, excitedly pushing the quilt back, causing Rowan to stir lightly, but her husband did not wake up, making Aelin happy that he was comfortable enough to know that even in sleep, things were okay.

After finishing her business which Elentiya had taken the time to ask why did Aelin pee so loudly?—that she definitely heard Rowan laughing at—Aelin washed her and Elentiya's faces, and put on a fresh diaper, since toilet training was going about as well as teaching a dog to flush a toilet, Elentiya pointed at the little tambourine that her daughter picked out the last time they were in the music shop. She couldn't really play it properly, which made sense since Elentiya was barely two, but she liked the sound that the zills made and the thumping of the drum head when Elentiya banged her fist against it.

Hugging Elentiya close to her, Aelin decided that it was too early to get up and that more sleep was absolutely necessary, and she knew that her daughter wouldn't object to that idea at all, not as she clung to Aelin and tucked her head against her mother's neck. Kissing the top of her daughter's messy head, Aelin climbed back into bed, going back into Rowan's open arm and resting her head on his shoulder.

Elentiya climbed over her father, the zills ringing out at the movement and just as Aelin was going to close her eyes, Elentiya shouted, “Good morning, papa!” and bonked him on the face with the tambourine not once, or twice, but three times.

Everything went absolutely still for a long moment, and Aelin knew that she should reprimand her daughter, but what came out of Aelin wasn't that at all, but a booming laugh that echoed throughout the chamber as Rowan just furrowed his brow at his own daughter's unique way of saying “good morning”.

Aelin buried her face in her pillow, trying to calm herself down. Rowan's magic pinched at her ear in retaliation, even as he calmly explained to Elentiya that what she didn't wasn't very nice, even if mama did find it funny. Aelin did her best to explain that she was coughing and not laughing to her daughter, but it didn't have the desired affect, with Elentiya laughing along, their daughter's laughter one of her favourite sounds in the world—it was pure joy, the very essence of life and it always struck Aelin when it came so freely, when in her own childhood, once she was in the hands of Arobynn, laughter was rare.

Rowan mumbled underneath his breath, something about how his hair was going to turn white from their antics. Aelin reached over and kissed him on the cheek, silently apologising as she finally calmed down.

Reaching over, Aelin took Elentiya back into her arms, her daughter smiling as she burrowed in-between them once more.

All was quiet while everyone got comfortable, and again, just as Aelin's eyes were shutting, Elentiya asked sweetly, “Papa sing? Please?”

“Yes, papa should definitely sing, shouldn't he?” Aelin said, because he rarely did it and she loved how deep and romantic his voice sounded when he showed them his gift. He almost always sung in the Old Language, the words weaving a story in the air, even if Aelin's grasp on the language was still shoddy at best.

And Aelin knew that maybe she shouldn't be asking for this, that it might look like she was rewarding Elentiya's bad behaviour, but her daughter was young and she would grow and it wasn't like it was the first time she did something she shouldn't. That was just how children were.

Rowan opened his mouth, but Aelin cut him off saying, “And it'll be good for the babe, to hear your voice.” Even though the little life inside of her was only a couple of months old, Aelin liked to think that even in the earliest stages, they somehow knew who Aelin and Rowan were their parents.

“Please?” Elentiya asked again, unaware that she was about to be a big sister in several months, because in her little mind, she was the baby. And she always would be to her parents, even when she was grown with a life of her own.

Rowan relented, because he could never really say 'no' to his daughter, so he tugged them closer and closed his eyes and started to sing.

It was beautiful, and one of Elentiya's favourites, a story about a woman exploring the world and finding herself, the song was more like an epic poem that Elentiya never heard the ending off as she always fell asleep, comforted by her father's voice as the lyrics flowed through him as steady as a river and as Aelin started to fall asleep, her hand drifted to her flat belly, and hoped that the little life inside of her heard it too.

The last thing she felt before she fell asleep was the soft touch of Rowan's lips on her cheek.

Aelin slept with a smile on her face and surrounded by the loving warmth of her family once again.