#my mornings were organized and my afternoons were work but it was fun

[technicolorxsn]

I'm so fucking scared I feel like I'm gna throw up lol

[andypantsx3]

LOADS OF FUN : TODOROKI x READER

SUMMARY: After moving into your first apartment together, Shouto seems more amorous than ever. You're not sure why—but when he comes home to you doing a load of laundry, more than your clothes are about to get tumbled. TAGS/WARNINGS: nsft (18+ only, minors please dni!), pro hero au, gn + afab reader, established relationship, fluff, emotional sex, table sex, cunnilingus, the shouto domesticity kink agenda goes absolutely crazy in this one lol (2.8k) NOTES: This piece is part of my pretty boy summer Shouto x Reader collab! Please go check out the other incredible fics people have written over the course of the summer; you will absolutely die over how good they are. This fic was also made possible through donations to the Fics for Gaza project. I cannot thank everyone who donated to one of the charities enough, as well as those who organized, reblogged, discussed, and got the word out. Lastly, I am so grateful for your immeasurable patience with me as I take time between fics to manage my workload, I hope I'm not too out of practice here lol. In summary: thank you, thank you, a million times thank you.

The sound of the door opening was hidden in the thump and glug of the washing machine starting its spin cycle.

Halfway across the house, you were oblivious—you had the clean laundry spread out on the kitchen table, hunting through the pile trying to match one of Shouto’s socks to another that seemed to have vanished into that mysterious void which opens somewhere between the laundry basket and the dryer. One of his shirts was half-folded over your shoulder, abandoned in favor of the sock search.

The rest of your things were still mostly tangled together on the table, warm and fresh and cottony, the few shirts you’d already folded sagging off the kitchen chairs.

It still gave you a little thrill—even several weeks after you’d moved in together—to see Shouto’s things twined up with yours—his enormous socks dwarfing yours, your sweaters clinging to the occasional piece of his hero suit that hadn’t seen enough action to need his agency’s industrial cleaners.

It all added to your sense of satisfaction with your afternoon—a frosty weekend day you’d spent cozy indoors, moving slowly and leisurely through some chores. A pot of soup simmered on the stove, and your favorite playlist worked itself through in lazy loops. Shouto was due off his rotation soon, and you hummed contentedly to yourself, entertaining pleased little fantasies of curling up with him for the rest of the weekend.

Which of course is when something moved in the corner of your eye. Your hum sawed up into a strangled screech, and you whipped around, flailing. Shouto’s sock launched itself full force at the intruder before you even registered you’d thrown it. In your shock, your leg caught against the table and you went stumbling—

—right into a pair of warm hands that caught you about the waist.

Your hands were on the man’s shoulders to push him off before you realized you recognized the touch—and that you’d caught sight of a distinct mop of scarlet and white hair as you’d whipped around.

“Shouto! Again?” you scolded reflexively, even as your heartbeat stuttered out of its wild kick into high gear. You tipped your head back to stare your boyfriend in the face, shoulders slumping in relief, letting him take some of your weight.

Shouto peered down at you, that tiny scrunch between his brows that indicated concern. “Are you alright, love?”

Your heartbeat pounded thunderously in your chest. “I’m—fine. But my god we need to get you a bell. I almost peed.”

Shouto’s mouth shifted minutely into something that might not have registered in anyone else’s face but was most definitely a regretful downturn on his. He looked even more unfairly beautiful than when he’d left you this morning—a little flushed and windswept from the unseasonable cold, that full mouth pink and pretty.

Your mind flicked momentarily off and back on like a circuit breaker, the way it always did when you had to process Shouto.

You’d understood he was once-in-a-generation levels of beautiful before you’d even met him, his face staring up at you from the glossy pages of various tabloids over the years. But in person, even after years of knowing him and several more dating him, Shouto’s appearance still managed to cross all the wires in a person’s brain. His features were an incomprehensible blend of aloof and elegant, sensual and warm—like a cold masterpiece of a marble sculpture had suddenly found himself with a consciousness and human desires and miles of warm skin.

“I did not mean to startle you,” he said, his voice low and warm. He sounded sincerely regretful.

You knew he hadn’t meant to—you’d long suspected his silent tread was habitually ingrained in him from years of hero work. And, in your most private and ungenerous thoughts, you suspected from years of making himself unobtrusive in his father’s home. The thought sat sour in your mouth, like a slice of pickled lemon.

You resisted making an equally sour face, shoving the thought away to make space for the reflexive flush of pleasure seeing Shouto always brought you.

“Welcome home, Sho,” you said instead, smiling up at him. Shouto’s hands moved on your waist, sliding gently beneath the hem of your tee-shirt to rest on the skin there.

He was still in his hero uniform, and as usual you felt a little goofy in comparison, in nothing but a tee and a well-loved pair of fraying sweatpants, which were this afternoon decorated with little flecks of soup from a brush with the pot.

But Shouto’s eyes were warm where they rested on you, and that perfect mouth crept back into a contented set. His long fingers smoothed over your skin as he watched you, thumb brushing your hip. He did not look like he found you at all goofy.

In fact, as his eyes dropped down to your ankles, slowly dragging back up to your face, you rather thought he looked a little appreciative. He even took a rather ungentlemanly step back, still holding you, to better take in the whole picture. His eyes wandered over the swell of your hip, the lines of the shirt against your chest, before darting to his own shirt, still folded over your shoulder.

His fingers flexed tellingly on your waist, and those heterochromatic eyes were both a little bit darker as they flicked back to yours.

His obvious regard made you feel warm. You shifted on your feet, shuffling.

“I was just—doing laundry,” you said for something to say, your mouth feeling kind of dry. Something about him always made you feel sort of shy and light-headed, even after all this time together. “And I made soup. I was thinking we could eat on the couch and watch one of those horrendous old All Might films?”

Shouto’s eyes darted to the stove, then beside you to the pile of your laundry, lingering for a long minute. His long lashes dipped, almost fluttering as his gaze traced over the tangle of your things together. His eyes flicked back to you. He was still for just a moment, watching you assessingly.

And then all of a sudden the world spun in front of your eyes. The hands at your waist lifted you clean off your feet, and you let out a startled “oof!” as you found yourself laid out in the pile of laundry on the table, sheets and sweaters bunching beneath you.

Shouto moved over you, stepping between your spread thighs, right at the edge of the table.

“You have no idea,” he intoned in a deep, delicious tone that went right down your spine, “what it is to come home to you like this.”

You wondered at that, feeling a strange combination of confusion and flattery, when Shouto’s mouth descended onto yours. His mouth was soft and sweet and insistent and absolutely perfect. The table groaned as he laid some of his weight out over you, pinning you into the laundry as he kissed you.

Your fingers clutched at him immediately, curling in his silky-soft hair, cupping his face to yours. One of Shouto’s own hands shifted to your thigh, holding you against him as he pressed himself harder into you.

You heard yourself making little gasps of appreciation as Shouto’s mouth moved down to your neck, laving hot kisses down your throat. You reveled in the feeling of him over you, broad and strong, his shoulders blocking the glow of the overhead light, casting shadows over you.

He’d been a lot like this lately, ever since you’d moved in together. He’d been adequately amorous before, of course, and blessed with a pro hero’s strength and unflagging stamina. But a few weeks after you’d moved in together you’d actually decided you needed to reactivate your gym membership given the amount of incredibly athletic sex you were suddenly having over almost every surface in the house.

One of the only spots yet to be touched was the table though, which Shouto seemed determined to rectify at this very moment.

He pulled back from you, his mouth flush from your kisses, looking a little entranced as he stepped out from between your thighs. You made a little noise at the loss of weight and heat over you, but Shouto caught the fabric of your sweatpants, gently but determinedly tugging them off of you. Your underwear was tossed right over one broad shoulder as Shouto went to his knees, and then his mouth was right back on you.

A wave of wild heat licked up your stomach at the noise of appreciation he made before sealing his mouth over you, strong fingers clutching your thighs to keep them apart.

“Oh my god!” you said, pleasure zinging right up your spine with the first lave of his tongue over you. “Shouto!”

Shouto let out a deep, pleased hum, two long fingers sinking into you embarrassingly easily as he worked your clit with his mouth. Your back arched and you could feel your clothing shift with you, Shouto’s shirt balling up under your shoulder blade, still half-draped over your shoulder.

“Oh, oh!” you heard yourself saying as your fingers twisted in the clothing, shuddering with every lick and suck of Shouto’s perfect, amazing, talented mouth.

He worked you with the expertise of long, dedicated practice—everything about him calculated to drive you insane. One moment he was excruciatingly soft, mouth slack and the touch of his tongue as fleeting and light as the brush of a butterfly’s wing. Then the next he was sucking relentlessly, teasing firmly with the tip of his tongue as his fingers played with you.

Your first climax hit you mortifyingly quickly, and Shouto seemed to know it before you did. His grip tightened on you, holding you down as you bucked against his mouth. Shouto looked more than a little smug as he got to his feet again, unbelting himself and laying back out over you.

He kissed you some more, the taste of yourself always a sort of shock to your system. But Shouto never seemed to mind, and if anything only seemed hungrier for you, mouth pulling at yours like he meant to devour you.

You felt the touch of his hand between your thighs as he lined himself up, then sank into you easily, groaning appreciatively like he’d just sunk into a hot bath. He bit carefully at your neck, one large hand pressing your stomach down to keep you pinned against the edge of the table where he wanted you.

“I always want to come home to you like this,” he intoned into the skin of your neck, his mouth sucking dizzying patterns into your skin. “Always.”

You could barely think past the slide of him inside you, thick and full and blissfully exquisite. He really was the most perfect man on earth, and he always felt like it too.

You barely managed to blink your eyes open to watch him, trying to catch his meaning in his face. Shouto watched you back, those blue and grey pinned on you like he couldn’t bear to look away from you as he moved inside you.

“You—” you panted out, trying to cling to the thoughts threatening to wiggle out of your grip. “What do you—? Of course you’ll always come home to me.”

Shouto bucked into you harder, the slap of his hip against the bottom of your thigh echoing loudly over the burble of soup on the stove. His eyelashes fluttered, mouth softening, and a realization struck you almost dizzy.

Oh, he really liked that.

You suppressed a wave of giddiness, charmed and helplessly pleased that he seemed to like the idea so much. Was that why he’d been so especially ardent this past month? Was it really because you’d moved in together?

Shouto’s arm hooked under one of your legs, drawing it up firmly over his shoulder so he could press even further inside of you. He looked so good like that that you nearly lost the thread of your thoughts, especially when his next thrust felt like that. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head.

“Ah!” escaped you. “Fuck, Shouto. Like that, please!”

Shouto’s thumb pressed down on your still-sensitive clit and he had to dig the fingers of his other hand into the flesh of your leg to keep you from bucking him right out of you with the way you squirmed. Sweet fucking gods he was unreal.

Shouto fucked you harder, the sound of your skin slapping together obscene in the quiet of the kitchen.

You tried again, struggling to watch his reaction with the way you wanted to throw your head back and babble nonsense instead.

“You’ll always come home to me,” you repeated, gratified when Shouto’s grip on you tightened, a soft sound escaping him. “You want me right here for you?”

“Ah—yes, love,” Shouto panted, staring down at you again. He looked like he knew what you were doing but didn’t care. “Yes,” he hissed.

“Just like this?” you prompted, trying not to slur the edges of your speech when he gave another particularly mind-bending thrust of his hips. His chest rose and fell heavily and he looked a little wild-eyed, gazing down at you.

“Like this, for me,” he said. “In my home, in our home—”

You could hear the table squeal and groan with the force of his next thrust, and then you had to grip the sides of it to steady yourself as he fucked you, looking blissful. Your nails scrabbled at the edges of the table, caught in between a million sensations—the glorious fullness of Shouto inside you, the gentle grind of his thumb against your clit, the way he looked all flushed and beautiful and panting and wanting—

You squeezed your eyes shut, too overcome with the sight of him to look at him anymore, but it was no use. Your entire body trembled as you came, and Shouto let out a low swear at the way you clenched up around him, hunching over you and pressing himself so impossibly hard against you as he came too.

He slumped down against you, weighing you into the soft-smelling cotton of the laundry you were now definitely going to have to rewash. You could feel his chest rise and fall as he panted, his breath tickling the skin under your ear. He left an unbearably soft, sweet kiss just under the lobe, at odds with the near-wild way he’d just been fucking you.

You warmed, petting through his hair with a helpless affection.

“Well now I know what time I should always do our laundry,” you said.

Shouto huffed into your neck, but you could feel a tiny smile curve his mouth.

“It is not just that,” he said, but did not elaborate for some minutes until you elbowed him gently. He peeled himself off of you just enough to look down into your face. “It is the thought of our life together. Our clothes piled together. You in the home we chose and we made…” he said, trailing off.

But you thought you got the sentiment. It was about how easy it was, how uncomplicated. A safe place to come home to, no expectations, just soup and a pile of sweet-smelling laundry and someone happy to see you. It was something far away from what he'd grown up thinking a home was, possibly something he’d thought he’d never have—something you were determined to make him realize now that he always would.

You let your fingers pull through his hair again, smiling up at him. “I am going to have to do our laundry again, though,” you teased. “In case that interests you.”

And despite what he’d just said, Shouto did in fact look a little too interested. You watched his mismatched gaze trail over to the closet that opened onto the washer and dryer. A contemplative look snuck across his handsome face, carefully curling the corner of that plush mouth.

“There is another place we have not yet broken in,” he said slowly, voice dipping low. He looked down at you with an earnest expression completely in contrast to what he was suggesting.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and that was all the permission he needed to pull you up, gathering you up in his arms and layering a fat handful of laundry on top of you. His belt buckle rattled loosely beneath you where he'd barely done it up in his haste, and you laughed harder when he turned off the stove as you passed it.

Though it turned out to be a needed precaution—as neither of you found yourselves free to sit down to dinner for several hours yet.

[m00nsbaby]

AITA for texting my fiancé that "this isn't working"?

Steven Grant x reader.

Tags & warnings. None. Yes, this literally is just a silly little thing that I read on reddit and I thought it was so funny lol. Reader is gender neutral!

Word count. 823.

Moving in with Steven was one of the best decisions you could make in your life, right after saying 'yes' when he proposed.

The only inconvenience came at a precise time between morning and afternoon, sometimes even at night, all depending on the mood of his boss. Waiting for Steven to return from work was such a headache, boring hours and dead time as you tried to find your own job.

The upside was that you now had complete freedom to organize his apartment to your liking, and if anything needed a complete makeover, it was Steven Grant's dark and disorganized home.

You had just made a completely necessary expense, a gigantic mirror that was clearly bigger than your capabilities. Worse yet, considering that if there was something you despised with all your heart, it was the mere idea of reading an instruction manual.

When the mirror arrived, the Amazon delivery guy mocked you to your face for your difficulty in handling the box and getting it into the house.

You: Baby, the new mirror just came in!

You hit send after the message.

You: I’m going to try to put it together but I may need your help later.

And just as you said, you got to work with the phone by your side, waiting for a response from Steven.

You assumed Donna was in a terrible mood because at least two hours went by without a reply, although you were really too busy to worry about that.

For a moment, you insisted on the idea of finishing assembling the darn mirror before Steven arrived home, but that clearly didn't happen because for the two and a half hours of effort you put in, you didn't feel like you were really getting anywhere.

Plus, you had extra screws that shouldn't have been left over.

You: This isn’t working and at this point, I think I need to just give up.

You put the phone aside and lazily lay down on the carpet. Why was assembling furniture so hard? Although not as difficult as having to accept that you couldn't finish it on your own.

You stayed there not knowing how long, but you estimated it was a few hours because you heard the front door indicating that Steven was home. The smile lasted only a short while because as you straightened up to greet him, he walked past you without even looking at you, heading straight to the bedroom.

"Steven?" you questioned, slightly furrowing your brow. You stood up slowly, giving him time to exit the room.

When you finally confronted him, your heart almost jumped out of your chest. His eyes were red, completely filled with tears.

"What happened, baby?"

"Why?" he asked, his voice breaking. It shattered your heart into pieces.

"Why what, Steven?" He sniffled, and you searched his gaze when he started avoiding you.

"Why are you giving up on me?"

You nearly killed him right then and there.

"What are you talking about?"

He didn't take long to pull his phone out of his pocket and shake it a bit in front of your face; he was on the verge of sobbing.

"Y-Your messages, you were breaking up with me."

The moment Steven mentioned your text messages, you had to press your lips together to keep from laughing in his face.

Your expression almost made him cry harder. Were you making fun of him?

"Steven." Your voice came out in a playful tone as you almost burst into laughter. "I was talking about the mirror."

"Huh? What mirror?"

"The new mirror, it arrived." Your eyes were almost watering from holding back laughter. "I'm guessing that the previous messages didn't send; I was talking about not being able to assemble it on my own."

You stepped aside to let him see the mess you had made on the floor, with the mirror halfway assembled.

Steven exchanged glances between the things and you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

He looked at the things.

He looked at you.

Realization hit in seconds, and you couldn't say anything more when you felt Steven's arms squeezing you against his chest. You couldn't stop laughing even though your laughter sounded odd, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

"Bloody fucking hell, love!" Steven cursing was definitely a special event. It only made you laugh harder. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

He lifted you off the ground, and tears were already streaming down your face. It took much longer than expected to calm down from the laughter.

Still breathless, you let him kiss your face, as well as embrace you with his strong arms that refused to let you go.

"Still, I need you to check the mirror." You took a deep breath, your cheeks already reddened, one of your hands held onto him, and the other wiped the corners of your eyes. "I think I damaged it."

[miseta]

Chapter 6 ➺ Paris est magique

Starting over In Madrid

Misa Rodriguez x Reader (Nicky/first person)

After moving to Madrid as the new Real Madrid photographer, Nicky's eyes can't look away from the pretty face of Misa Rodriguez. But how is she going to handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her working contract's strictly forbidding her to date players? Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking Chapter 4 ➺ Hell Clasico Chapter 5 ➺ Valleys and peaks

This chapter is quite long ! Hope you guys still like to read it as much as I loved writing it, and I had so much fun doing photoshop visuals I did several for this one

TW: may content explicit sex, +18

6K words

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧ 

The rain was pouring down when we landed in Paris, drops splashing hard against the windscreen of the bus, driving at an unbelievably low speed. I was sitting beside Ana at the front row, slowly drowsing, swung by the steady movements of the vehicle. My mind wandered, taking me back with Misa and Hayley waving happily to me again at the start and end of trainings. I was so glad to have them back. My vibrating phone took me out of the memory. I pulled it out of my pocket and broke a smile when I saw Angela had texted me. 

A: Hey Nicky! How are you it’s been years !

N: Hey Angela! Yeah so long sorry I didn’t call. Work has been mad but I’m good and you ?

A: I’m fine! What did I miss ? Can we call ?

N: Sorry I’m on the bus in Paris right now can’t call you. I do have a lot to tell you!

A: Tell meeee Wait I know It’s Misa???

N: Well spot-on lol

A: Tell me everything!!

N: Well we kissed… more than once and that’s it for now.

A: Oh that’s all …?! What are you waiting!! But you’re in Paris with the team ?

N: Yes

A: And you’ll be in the same hotel ?

N: Yep

A: And you’ll have a room for yourself ? 

N: Yes……..

A: This is looking good or bad it depends

N: Stop it Angela! Right now Misa is focusing on her match and won’t let anything happened. 

A: How many nights are you staying ?

N: 3 but only one after the game

A: Leaves 1 night still…

N: Girl!!! you’re not supposed to encouraged me !! The close still exists…….

A: Right yeah fuck the close! She’s a friend with benefits no big deal ! Just keep it secret... anyway you and I both know it's bound to happen

N: Pfff I can’t bye Angela

A: I’ll call you when you’ll be back in Madrid ! Can’t wait to know the all Paris story, especially the end !

I rolled my eyes and put my phone back in my pocket, a part of my body itching now my brain was imagining the things that could occurred in two days. I shook the thought, peering at the blurry shapes of the fancy buildings of Paris through the heavy rain.

***

We arrived at the hotel at the end of the afternoon, everybody back on the bus at once for a late practice session. Misa didn’t break her self-promise to work hard and we didn’t interacted much during the first hours in the French capital. We quickly ate and went to bed after training. Everybody was very concentrate. 

Next day, the players trained all morning in the stadium of the Parc des Princes where the match would take place. However, the club permitted a free period on the afternoon and Naomie, who was born in Paris, organized an improvised visit of Montmartre with some of us. 

I was the only non-footballer member of the tourist groupe. Hayley had forced Misa to join. She originally wanted to study in her room, watching videos of goalkeepers playing as a last minute homework, but had had to let go under the insistence of her friend for well deserved break. 

Even if most of us had been to Paris before, we were charmed by the tortuous and hilly streets near the Basilica. I was dragging myself behind the sporty women,  getting distanced more and more, as I climbed laboriously the endless stairs to the Sacré Coeur. Misa glanced behind her, saw me, nudge Hayley and the two of them lowered her pace to let me catch up. 

"¿ Qué pasa Nicky ? Tired after the morning training ? It was a hard one I must admit…" She teased as I leveled with them. 

"I didn’t signed for this ! Don’t have your stamina !" I panted. 

"Come on let’s go that way ! We’ll do a detour but maybe that mean less stairs" Hayley indicated a pedestrian curvy path on the left. 

We chatted happily on the way. It was so nice to hang together again. We shortly arrived to the front but below, a huge amount of stairs still separated us from the basilica. I snorted. 

"Come on Nicky !" Hayley pushed me forward but I eyed an empty bench aside the path. 

"I just need a break !" I said heading to sit down. As I passed in front of her, Misa hold me back, grabbing my arm. "We leave you on that bench and we’ll see you at the Sacré Coeur in two hours !" she joked. 

"Carry me then !" I said. I felt free in Paris, far away from the Ciudad Real Madrid, it was making me flirty and I played at being dramatically on the edge of fainting. 

Misa was already grasping my arm to pull me closer, ready to catch me. "Don’t temped me, Princesa !"

"Ok girls ! I’m still here remember ?" Hayley waved at us, amused. Misa and I parted, embarrassed. "We’ll do Nicky a favor and rest a bit." she added already sitting down on the bench. 

We joined her, silent for once, calmly enjoying the beautiful view of the roofs of Paris while tourists and locals flocked toward the Basilica. A big kind of pigeon walked to us, eager to find some food at our feet. 

"Esta paloma ha comido demasiado, French pigeon are fat !" the goalkeeper said, curious. 

I peered at the oversized bird. "I don’t think it’s a common pigeon…" 

Hayley put out her brand new camera  "I think it’s cute"  she said fondly and took a photo "It will be our souvenir of Paris". The Australian footballer jumped up and position herself in front of us but scared the bird away. "oh no I wanted a family portrait ! Anyway… say cheese !" she shouted at us. 

I shoved my arm on Misa’s shoulders, she grabbed my waist as we put on our best smiles. "You’re too cute girls" Hayley dropped. I felt my face blushing and I tried to hide it in the crook of Misa's neck. However, the embarrassment was almost pleasant as it felt so good to be allowed that little bit of freedom with Misa. Hayley knew the truth and was keeping it safely to herself.

A little breeze swept some fallen leaves on the path. I was so at peace in the foreign city I rested my head on the goalkeeper’s shoulder, smothered by the warm presence of her hand at my side. Hayley took another shoot. "You can tell me if you want a photo of you two kissing in Paris at this level…" she threw at us. We chuckled and I went back at hiding in Misa’s neck. But Hayley was just teasing and had the delicacy to turned around to photograph the city stretching in front of us, allowing the little break only for ourselves. 

I straitened up and peered at the goalkeeper. Her half-closed eyes were looking at her lap, a bashful grin making her so cute. I glanced around us to see if any of our teammates had followed us. It was clear. "I think I’d like a kiss in Paris" I said, my hand, still on her shoulder, caressed the side of her neck. Misa shyly smiled and raised her head. A worry flashed in her eyes and like me, she checked if we weren’t observed. When she was sure we wouldn’t take any risk, she leaned over and timidly kissed me. Felling she was pulling back, I hold her face, not ready to let her go, having not enough of her lips against mine, and I felt her grin through the kiss. "You can’t devour me in public like you almost did in your office" she muttered. I retreated and flash back at her. Her warm and soft gaze made my stomach flutter. I felt an urge to hold her close but didn’t dare, somehow finding it more intimate than a kiss. Instead I took her hand and got up, pulling her behind me. 

"Let’s go to that damned basilica !" 

***

The teams entered the stadium in two neat rows under the cheering crowd, the Ultras Paris tribune loudly chanting "Paris est magique !". Tension and concentration gripped the Real Madrid girls as the traditional greeting took place. Shortly, everyone was taking their place in the pitch, ready for the kick-off. Misa’s knees had been warped up entirely since her injury during the previous game but she was jumping and stretching energetically in front of her cage. 

The game started, PSG had the ball, led by Grace Geyoro quickly advancing, passing the ball to Tabitha Chawinga. The forward ran faster and faster, closing the gap between her and the penalty area in less than minute. Ivana, Rocio and Oihane surrounded her and she passed the ball back to Sandy Baltimore who send it in the feet of Marie-Antoinette Katoto. The French player dribbled past Ivana and was block by Olga but managed to keep the ball. She send it to Sakina Karchaoui, and recovered the ball behind Olga’s back, heading straight into the penalty area. 

Misa readied herself to jump, shouting restlessly at her defenders. Katoto crossed the ball, Chawinga waiting, and she controlled it, aimed and shot. The ball rolled between Rocio’s feet at full speed. Misa dived and crashed onto the grass, her outstretched arms missed the ball by centimeters and she saw it entered the cage, almost brushing the right goalpost. The crowd burst in joy as PSG scored at the 6th minute. Real Madrid were having a hard game start. The goalkeeper got up, furious at her defenders and probably more with herself. She kicked the ball back in the game, her brows furrowed, her mouth nervously chewing a gum.

First haft-time past with no further remarkable action, apart from a miss aim kick from Karchaoui at the 40th minute. The second half however was punctuated by the many attacks on both side. Unfortunately, all the attempts of Madrid were stopped by the impassable feet of the French defense. 

Madrid was falling back as fast as they could as Sakina rushed on the left side, knowing how dangerous she could be. She crossed the ball again, aiming for Grace Geyoro. The ball buried itself in the groupe of players lost in confusion. The whistle blew and the gesture of the referee was pretty clear. She mimed a square with her hands, her arm pointing the center of it to finish. The ball had found the arm of Oihane leading to a penalty in favor of the French team. 

At first sight, Misa’s face was unreadable, but I was beginning to know her well enough to decipher her extreme tension. What she dread and wanted the most was happening, a chance to prove herself when all was resting on her again. She settled on the goal line, stretching arms and legs to prepare herself. Katoto would do the shoot. The entire stadium was holding its breath. Katoto waited a few seconds. She jogged to the ball and kicked it to the left. Misa jumped on the good side and kick the ball with her fist, sending it out of the pitch. She leaped back to her feet, screaming in triumph as her teammates hugged and slapped her in congratulation.   

The match resumed. Like before the penalty, both teams worked hard at scoring without succeeding during the entire time. Finally, the whistle blew to signal the end of the encounter. It meant Madrid had lost again. We were all disappointed by the outcome but less battered than after the Clasico. We all knew we had put an honorable performance regarding our opponent. 

***

On the road back, the team was quiet for everyone was brooding the defeat. It was still early when we arrived at the hotel and groups of teammates formed in front of the building, sharing ideas to change their minds. I overheard Sofie and Kathellen taking about a club houseboat. Haley joined them at planning the evening, grabbing a passing moody Misa that surely wanted nothing more than to bury herself in her bed. 

"Don’t even think about escaping Misa Rodriguez. You’re coming with us, willing or not !"

"Estoy cansada y no quiero bailar ! Leave me, Aussie !" she moaned and struggled to set her arm free. Hayley gestured me to approach. "Nicky’s coming too ! You don’t want to miss a night out with the best girls, do you ?"

"Vamos Misa, it’s our last night in Paris !" I insisted and sized her other arm to prevent her from fleeing again. She stopped struggling but began to silently sulk.

"We going to a péniche sur la Seine" announced Kathleen with glittering eyes. Misa sent her a questioning look. "It’s a boat on la Seine, you know, the river of Paris" she mocked her.

"I know the river of Paris, thank you." Misa snapped back but I couldn’t tell if it was true. Anyway, the prospect of it didn’t seem particularly appealing to her.  

"Misa stop being so grumpy, just let go for once !" Like she would have with a child, Hayley took the goalkeeper’s chin between her fingers, and mirror her own putting expression, having Misa to finally break a smile. "Thanks Jesus, we have Misa back ! Let’s go change. We meet in one hour max at the hotel reception !" 

After hesitating over and over about what to wear, I had finally put on a knee length dark gray T shirt, a jean jacket and a pair of black derbies from where my Real Madrid socks were sticking out. I didn’t like to look too classy, even in Paris. When I arrived in the lobby forty minutes later, Misa, Hayley and Kathellen were already there, chatting casually together. Hayley was the first to notice me. "Girl you’re looking good ! Come seat with us. We’re waiting for Sofie and God knows she can take forever to get ready". 

I took a place on the sofa besides the midfielder, facing Misa who discreetly looked at me from head to toes and put a thumb up to silently show her approbation of my outfit. My voiceless lips formed the words "you too" in return. The goalkeeper was wearing simple gray pants and a sleeveless top witch nicely brand out her muscular shoulders. 

We waited for Sofie an entire hour and ordered a taxi. The danish girl had barely apologized, quickly gathering us for a selfie as we got out of the car at our destination. The surroundings were charming, large bare lawns stretching in front of the Palace of the Invalides on a side, a sumptuous bridge crossing the Seine on the other. The streetlights and granite paving stones perfected the lovely decor. 

We walked to the bridge, climbed down a few stairs and arrived on the docks where a few barges were mooring. As the cliché says, the banks was indeed giving a very romantic vibe and I suddenly wished Misa and I were alone. The tall brunette was photographing the place, finding it at her taste finally. 

A few minutes later, we entered the barge-club and came to the dance floor on the lower level. The place was bombed-out and suffocating, colorful spots of light splattering on the sea of heads. After getting some drinks, we spotted a less crowded space and formed a small dancing circle. It was good to see the footballers having fun whole-hearted, relieved of any kind of pressure at the moment. Kathellen and Sofie spend many time dancing together, pausing now and then to take selfies and to chat on their phone. Misa was getting loose as she drank more and more Pina Coladas while Hayley kept making fun of her wild dancing. As for me, I was sweating hard and feeling slightly tipsy after two and a half pint of beer. 

The partying pretty footballers were drawing attention. A few girls approached them more than once. Kathellen and Misa had the most pretenders with respectively six and five woman coming to chat or dance with them. Of course, it annoyed me beyond reason for I was forcing myself to stay distant with the goalkeeper. When the sixth girl, moreover not an ugly one, tapped Misa’s shoulder with insurance, I escaped from the crowd to cool down near the wall of the room, not bearing to witness another flirt.  

I took a long sip of my beer, wiped the sweat off my forehead, while peering at the girl chatting Misa with dark eyes.

"C’est toujours étouffant ici ! T’as bien raison de faire une pause si tu veux tenir toute la nuit !" a women just came leaning against the wall besides me. 

I glanced at her, perplexed. She was tall, black, her face bearing many piercings and wearing her hair in long small braids. I actually found her very pretty. "Sorry, I don’t speak French !" I apologized.  

She came closer to avoid shouting over the music "Oh, I couldn’t guess ! You look very Frenchy. I’m Sonia." she pointed at herself. "Nicky" I mirrored her. 

"You dance Nicky ?" she led out an inviting hand and smile to me. I glanced at the place where I had left Misa but didn’t caught sight of her. Felling still annoyed by the goalkeeper power to attract girls like moths on a lamp, I nodded, dropped my empty glass, and followed Sonia back into the crowd. 

I could tell the woman was a confirmed dancer at the first contact. Her hands on my waist and scapula guided my body along her moves. She spoke in my ear without breaking our dance  "you’re living in Paris ?". Her smile was really charming and I felt exhausted all of sudden. Why couldn’t I crush on girl like her ? Why couldn’t things be simple and flowing ? Why was I liking one in the handful of people on earth I wasn’t allowed to ?

"No, I live Madrid actually, I’m just here for a couple of days " I answered. She made us turn around in a few quick dancing step and I caught a glimpse of Misa’s face glancing at us from across the the room, scowling, lips pinched. I couldn’t help feeling a bit satisfied jealously had changed side. 

"When are you leaving ?" Sonia asked. 

"Tomorrow" I said sadly as I was really enjoying your trip in Paris. 

The pretty women strengthened her grip, her mouth back to my ear "too bad… we can still spend the night…". I led out a soft chuckle. The prospect was tempting but I couldn’t go with Sonia like that. We weren’t even together, but I felt a jolt as I realized I would feel like cheating on Misa. My heart tightened as the thought of the footballer’s upset features. 

I pulled back from Sonia, my eyes already excusing "I’m sorry Sonia but I can’t. Thanks for the dance though, it was nice. You made me feel I danced well too". Sonia grind, obviously not vexed "De rien ! Good night to you Nicky." and she left, disappearing in the compact mass of people. 

The room had filled even more, blocking the view I had on the goalkeeper and barely allowing me to find my way back to the wall. I leant against the relatively fresher surface and began to text Misa to know where they were. The familiar silhouette of a brunette with broad shoulders extricate herself from the packed dancers. Misa scowl disappeared the moment she saw me and I was so happy to find her I flung myself in her arms, alcohol allowing me to be so reckless.  

Misa raised her eyebrows, surprised by this outrush of affection, especially after having see me dance with another women but shortly her body relaxed and she hold me against her. Not leaving her embrace, I slowly began to moved along the song’s rhythm. The goalie followed me, our hips pressed and moved in sync. Somehow feeling like sheltered by the dense crowned, we danced like we were alone, eyes closed and bodies stuck against each other. 

The music went slower, I turned around and put my back to her. My butt pressed on her hips, she wrapped her arms around me, shoved my hair to one side and planted a kiss on my neck. I shivered, led a blind hand grasp her hair for her to kiss more. Her hands on my stomach pushed my bottom harder against her while her lips worked their way up to my jawline. My face oriented itself toward them. She found the corner of my mouth, I growled in frustration and I turned to her again to fully receive her kiss. The close, the risks, the consequences, were swallowed by those luscious lips pushing me back to the wall, my arms around her neck ensnaring her body to mine as she had me cornered. 

The slow melody faded to a groovy one but we weren’t dancing anymore, lost in our heated kiss against the wall. I was so worked up it was painful. Snogging her wasn’t even barely enough, it was becoming excruciating. I was dying for more, for the all party, for a release that had never came yet. So I quitted her mouth and went to pant in her ear "Let’s go back to the hotel, to my room… por favor!". Hearing her gasp finished to convince me we shouldn’t last here anymore. 

As I began to drag her toward the exist, Misa held me back "We can’t go together on our own, it will look suspicious. We have to get the others to go or wait for them !". She had stay more sensible tonight and I had to admit she was right if we didn’t want Sofie and Kathellen spreading the juicy story of two girls coming back earlier to the all team in the morning. 

We found the three other footballers and I spotted Sofie muttering something to Kathleen while looking at us. I realized we were already suspected. Misa went next to the danish girl who nudge her with her elbow and exchanged a suggestive glance. The goalkeeper shook her head, bitterly adding "I queued to the bathroom and I found Nicky having a good time with a pretty French women". 

Sofie bought her partial lie, hitting my shoulder in collusion. "Why didn’t you go with her ? Enjoy your last hours in Paris baby !". 

"Nah, I’m far too tired ! Honestly I’d like to go, you can’t breath in here!". 

"Oh ! So soon ?" Sofie probed with a look the rest of our groupe. I caught eyes with Hayley and passed her a silent plea to help us. I saw the Australian midfielder glanced at Misa, the goalkeeper imperceptibly nodded, her face reddening with embarrassment. 

"I’m ok to go, I’m too hot too and I don’t want to end up looking like Misa’s lobster face." Hayley jibed while backing us up, having Misa shrinking on herself with shame. 

To avoid any further suspicions, the goalkeeper and I didn’t take the same cab to return to the hotel. I paired up with Hayley, leaving Misa with Sofie and Kathellen. In the taxis, I thanked my friend for having us covered. 

"I got you girls, but be more careful, you two are getting so obvious it’s a miracle nobody else hasn’t figured something out" . The Aussie winked. "And please go to your room, I’m next to Misa’s and I would like to sleep well". 

"God sake, Hayley…" 

*** 

I closed the door of my hotel room, tension of my expecting body reaching new heights. All I had to do was wait for Misa but it was already too much for me to handle. My brain was running wild. What if she couldn’t come ? What if she finally didn’t want to ? I had to busy myself to keep my sanity. 

I took off my jacket, shoes and socks and glanced at the room. The bed had been done, white sheets and pillows neatly smothered and ready for us. I found the room too bright and I turned on the night lights near the bed headboard before turning off the ceiling one. The dim glow shrouded the place with a quiet warm ambiance. 

Going in the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked tired and messy. I  brushed my teeth and my hair, took a bit of conditioner to freshen it. Then, I checked my make up, put back deodorant and a spray of perfume… Once, twice, thrice… all of that to help me regain some confidence in vain. 

I went back in the bedroom, more nervous than ever. The waiting seemed to last forever, having me wonder if she was going to come at all. Maybe she found it was too risky in the hotel we shared with the team and staff…

…a soft knock on the door made my heart lift. 

I rushed at it, opening to a very agitated Misa, the goalkeeper checking several times she wasn’t followed before she stepped inside. 

"Perdon Nicky !"  Misa sighted once she had closed the door. "Sofie wouldn’t let me go. She insisted we chatted and drink more in her room for she wasn’t feeling tired ! I told her I’d to go to bed but she wanted to come in my room and busy herself on her phone while I’d sleep !" 

I giggled "Sofie is one of a kind…"

"Si, she is ! But I got rid of her ! Uf !" she leant back to the door, relieved. 

"Phew ! Here you are at last !" I smiled to her, my nervousness surging again. 

We face each other in the small room, jittery and shy, unable to move, now we were finally at it. Silence settle between as we watched each other expectantly. Misa looked down, pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile and nervously massaged her neck. In spite of her charismatic appearance, she could be rather timid in those circumstances. I shook off some of my own diffidence and I walked to her, caught her face in my hands, looking at her tenderly, and my desire for her took over me again. 

I embraced her, kissed her softly, my impatience giving place to a will not to rush as the night still lay ahead. I wanted us to fully experience everything, each kiss and touch, equally moved and aroused by the fact that tonight would always be the first with her. 

Misa sunk in our slow motion, her arms around my neck. Her fingers gently crept in my hair and she pulled my face to deepen our kiss. I ran my hands under her t-shirt, stroking, caressing her skin, before I grabbed and pulled the cloth off the women’s head. Our kiss broken, my gaze wandered over her body and she sized the moment to take off my dress, her fingers folding the fabric up slowly, and finally shoving it off my head as well. We resumed our kissing, skin brushing, hands and fingers running along each other spine, to the point of giving us goosebump. 

Misa advanced, walking me backward to the bed, and taking her shoes off on the way. Our already fast breathing quickened. My heels hit the bed framed, I gasped, turned over at the last moment, having Misa loosing balance and falling onto the mattress. She smiled in surprise and settled herself in the middle of it, her half bare body an irresistible invitation to join her as soon as possible. 

I went over her, instantly back at full-mouthed kissing, a needy fire surged and spread as she caressed my bare skin. Misa straightened up and I wrapped my legs around her hips. Her powerful hands secured me against her while she looked up to me, silently asking for us to resume our kissing. I leaned toward her mouth and softy bit her lower lips, hearing the woman rasping breath in return. I released her, she send her tongue between my lips, reaching for mine, as her fingers found my bra and worked at unhooking it. I imitated her and we both sent our underwear to the floor. Quickly, we pressed our chest against each other, back at stroking our now entire naked upper bodies, the feel of Misa’a soft and bare breast on me stirring waves of heat in my stomach. 

I couldn’t bear to take our time anymore, I put my weight against the goalie to bring her to lie down again. Misa grinned and resisted. I unwrapped my legs, straddling her tights and unceremoniously pushed her back onto the mattress. Her eyes fed on the view of my almost naked figure. I, myself, could barely stand the sight of her lying body, topless, with her arms and long hair spread out on the pillow, her shaped abs and tanned smooth skin showing in the half-light. She looked up with hooded eyes, mouth half opened, surrendering to me taking the lead and allowing me to simply contemplate her for a moment.  

I came to lay a little aside over the goalkeeper, Misa’s arms enclosed me, pushing our breasts to gently squash, sending us both gasping at the sensation. A hand cupped the nap my neck, making my mouth fall back on her lips as I felt her rise her tight between my legs. I led out a wail, fingers gripping the pillow as she began to apply a light pressure there. Slowly I grinded on her, sending rush of pleasure in my body at each slide on her leg. But shorty, the fabric of her jeans bothered me. I broke the contact and I heaved my upper body onto one arm, leading down my other hand to unbutton her pant. 

I reset my position above the goalkeeper, began with a light kiss on her mouth and moved down to her neck. Misa’s hands ran down my back to my bottom as I nipped and licked my way to her breast, her long moans filling the room as I started to kiss her there. One of her hand found mine, the other resting on her own hair, her furrowed brows was giving away her longing. I paused, inhaling the smell of her skin, before I continued my road down. 

I stopped when I reached her jeans, witch I grasped firmly to took it off. Misa chest was rising up and down deeply, looking avidly at me as she had very well guessed were I was planning to go next. I took the time to dispose of my panties, more turned on to see her head jerked back on the pillow as she regained some of her breath. Fuck she was so hot ! Her perfect awaiting body menaced to finish me only at the sight. I tried to cool myself down, pushing back my own arousal as I swiftly pulled off the brunette’s own panties, having both of us bare and trembling with want. 

Slowly, I lowered my head between the goalkeeper’s spread legs, taking a glance at her blushed face, her brown eyes and half-opened quivering lips almost begging. My tongue ran through her and Misa's head fell back again, closing her eyes, as a hight pitch whimper escaped her mouth. Her sweet voice filled the room and covered my own whining. Her hands desperately clung at my hair to have me go on and on, her sounds louder with the increasing rhythm. 

At a moment, she set her arms upward, and messed with her hair, witch fell over her face beautifully. The vision of the brunette lost in pleasure almost had me go over the edge again. One of her hands hided her face, the other gripping the bed sheets as my fingers found their way inside. She was so loud now I was sure we had awakened all the occupants of the floor. I lifted my head to check is she was close, barely able to hold on myself, but Misa, wanting more, pressed my face between her legs again. Fuck ! I was so close, my own cries muffled by my business on her core, when her legs went rigid and pressed on each side of my head. The goalkeeper’s body shuddered, accompanied by deep whiny sights, as she sunk into the bliss. 

I exhaled and rested against her leg a moment, regaining my breath. After the short break, I went next to Misa, facing the goalkeeper laying on her back, her face lost and beautiful. She turned on her side, sent a weak arm over my waist for me to took her in and she nested on my collar bone, peaceful and exhausted. I watched her yearningly, I kissed her forehead and a discreet smile stretched her mouth. 

A couple of minute had passed, with us staying cuddling, when Misa lifted her head to put a soft kiss on my lips. She pulled my face to give me a more heated one, and another. Then she grabbed my leg, heaved it onto her hip and my breathing quickened again at once. Her hand grasped my neck, she sent it traveling to my breast, caressing and pinching my nipples a moment, turning me into a moaning mess, before she led it down, and downer. 

She touched me at last, gasped and smiled at finding me all drenched and I hugged her tight, feverish whimpers leaving my mouth as her fingers easily sled between my legs. I had been already so close I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold much more. Misa’s fingers sunk inside, I whined so loudly I’d have been ashamed, excepted I didn’t gave a fuck. Warmth grew, choking and pleasant each time she went in and out, filling me more and more when I was already so full. 

My half-closed eyes wandered on Misa, and it was the sight of her far too pretty blushed face focussing hard on making love to me that made me came. The deep waves of pure pleasure radiate through my entire body, my arms tightening around her neck, eyes shut, entirely surrendering to the overwhelming feel. 

As bliss took me in, both of us went limp against each other. Exhausted by her match earlier, the footballer as given her last strength to it. I flipped onto the other side, still recovering, while she managed to turn off the light and come to lie close. She pulled the cover onto us both, wrapped me with her arm, I sized her hand falling over, hearing her letting out an approving noise in response. Her slowing and deepening breathing told me she had fell asleep at once, against me, in Paris, the magic French capital.

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Chapter 7 ➺ In the haze

[cafeinthemoon]

Ever Dream (Apollo x reader)

Chapter 1/1

Wordcount 7,3k

Title Ever Dream

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Symbols ✔ . 1️⃣ . 💛

Warnings: Apollo is extremely inconvenient in the beginning; angst with a soft, bittersweet ending

Tagging ? (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A. Finally I can fulfill my promise and post this little story with Apollo!

At first, he wasn't appealing to me at all, but as his character was developed, I found myself liking him (I basically understood that my lack of interest in him and his fight was due to me not moving on from Hades' loss, since snv doesn't feel the same for me anymore) Also his personality is a bit weird in this one bc I've started to write it before his flashback came out, and since I've wrote so much it would be a waste to restart my work to adjust his depiction to something more "pleasing", so I just kept things this way. But I hope you have fun with it :)

“Come out, come out

Wherever you are [...]

Give in, give in for my touch

For my taste

For my lust”

(Nightwish, Ever Dream)

Summer days might be the favorites among the mortals, for they were long and favorable to the body and the heart, as a good presage for the ones who needed it, but that didn’t apply to you. Yes, as many, you appreciated cheerful encounters of friends under the shadow of a tree on a warmth afternoon, as well as playing games in the city’s lake with your sisters, but none of these small delights were enough to make you enjoy Summer above the other seasons. Honestly, you would be happier during Spring, when the beauty of the flowers would be in its apex, or during Winter, when you would stay long periods at home, in front of a good fire, with warm food and crafting to occupy your hands; even Autumn had a special place in your heart, with its meadows of red leaves and winds whispering mysterious tunes.

The thing is that you used to work as a gardener during Spring and Summer, and this latter was always the most difficult one, for the land where you lived was always too hot for any activity to be possible under midday sun, so you would adjust your routine to work at early morning or when the sunset approached.

It was a hard work: the plants would suffer with the heat, and you must know the right moment of the day to pour water in them, in order to not burn their roots; some of them would even become dusty with the lack of rain, only to be harmed after sudden, summer storms, and it would take an entire day for you to clean the fallen leaves, broken branches and garbage brought by the wind – not to speak about the mud; and, as if none of this wasn’t enough, you would have to fight against seasonal infestations.

It was a lonely work, also: there would be days when you would stay in silence for so long that hearing your own voice after going back home or speaking to yourself during work brought a sensation of strangeness. But you enjoyed the solitude, using it to perfect your abilities and organize your thoughts.

Some would say that you should start thinking seriously about your situation, that is, that you couldn’t live only for the plants and that you were already in the age of considering marriage, but you would just escape from their demands inside the labyrinths of the garden. Not that you would get angry with them, though. You understood their preoccupations, but you were aware of where they came from: they didn’t understand that happiness could have many sources in human life beyond building a family.

And, as long as your own happiness came from the garden, you would stay inside it.

***

If the humans who knew you were the only ones watching your steps with what you’d call an abnormal interest, you could deal with it. But fate wanted things to be complicated for you, so your peculiar, solitary routine hasn’t caught only the mortals’ attention.

It happened that, close to your garden’s location, upon a greenish hill, a temple was built centuries ago. A temple to honor the deity whose powers were always strong across those lands – Apollo, Son of Zeus and Guardian of the Sun, Master of Poetry and Music, and owner of more titles than you could remember. You’ve never seen him in person, though it was said that he used that building as his temporary residence on summer days, which explained the intense temperatures during that time of the year; it also explained why the lights of the temple would be fed until late hours and why there would be sound of chords, drums and high voices all day. You respected the work of the people living there, of course, but you’d appreciate a bit of silence during a period that was so difficult for you, and there you had another reason to show up only when the sun wasn’t shinning in all its splendor.

Little you knew that, from the highest spot of the temple, upon a parapet only accessible to himself, the Lord of that house, to whom all those honors were directed, has been observing that lonely, little mortal who would come every day to take care of her flowers with the same dedication as Heracles by the time he had to fulfill his twelve tasks.

He couldn’t remember when was the first time he saw you: the only thing he knew was that, while he stood at that temple, he couldn’t spend one day without seeing you. Every morning, before his worshipers woke up, Apollo would walk up the stairs that led to the private space where the highest balcony of the temple was, and he would sit at it, with his back leaning on a column, to witness the girl’s arrival and her preparations before work; he would stay there, watching in ecstatic silence as she separated her tools, touched each plant with those delicate fingers of hers, examined each spot of them and gave them the necessary treatment, smiling and, sometimes, mumbling to herself.

Not only he noticed your diligence and dedication, but it didn’t escape him how much you were beautiful. Yes, you were surrounded by appealing fruit trees, flowers of the most interesting shapes and shades, all of them between intricate green walls that only added in majesty, yet your figure caught the man’s eyes above all of them – eyes that were trained to not miss anything that could be pleasing to one’s sight.

The god would cheer at himself with the fact that you were oblivious to this, while he, at that height, was completely out of your sight. It was like in the old days, where he would observe the mortal realm from his spot at the Olympus, except that this time there would be no difficulties in reaching you: as one of the city’s inhabitants, you were basically his neighbor, and knowing that building like the palm of his hand, he knew the secret shortcuts that would lead him to your garden’s gates.

At first, Apollo would state that his morning observations were just a hobby, and that with all the work to keep him occupied at the temple and the attentions he would get from the worshipers – particularly from the priestesses – he would soon forget about you and your flowers. However, he wasn’t fool to the point of lying to himself for too long, and soon he would admit that he was interested in you. Well, he was already desiring you, in a way that didn’t happen since… a few centuries ago, maybe by the time of that temple’s inauguration, when he would lure some of the city’s mortals into it. And now, there he was, leaving the comfort of his bed every morning, sometimes even before the sun came up to greet him, for anything but to catch the exact moment when your feet stepped into that garden, wondering how your voice would send shivers all over his body in case you whispered in his ears with the same docility you did to the flowers, how soft your skin would feel if he caught your frail form between his arms, and the heat he would sense once his lips touched yours.

This extended for days, until he finally had enough.

That morning, he watched you as always, but this time something inside him awakened, and he just let his body move away from the parapet and reach for his private chambers, where he caught his best garments and a pair of golden sandals, and then wandered to outside the temple, to the narrow path behind the hill, covered in stones and sand, only known by himself, and in one minute or two, he was standing at the garden’s entry.

Today is the day. The day when I shall make you mine.

***

It should be a pacific, ordinary morning of work at the garden.

You arrived at the usual hour, reached for the spot of the garden where you started working the day before, separated your tools and went to take care of your tasks.

You’ve spent one hour, maybe two like this, so concentrated in what your were doing that the sudden rustling between the leaves somewhere behind you made you startle and drop your garden shears. You turned around…

And found quite a spectacle for that time of the day.

Coming out of a narrow space between two green walls, you saw a young man dressed in garments that you supposed to be only appropriate for the Summer Festivities, not so far in the land’s calendar: he had a white toga around his body, which hems and details appeared to be sewn with golden threads; golden were also the strappy sandals he had on his feet, as well as the laurel wreath on his head. The first rays of the sun reached the space between you at that hour, and the golden light poured itself over the man’s figure as the hug of a beloved one, revealing that the metallic ornaments he carried were, in fact, gold, and conceding a singular glimmer to his eyes, which you thought to be of the same shade. But that wasn’t the only peculiarity seen in his appearance: his hair, falling on straight strands to his waist, were of a soft pink that reminded you of some of the flowers in your garden, but a comparison wasn’t possible, since they were out of sight at that moment.

Yes, the visitor was a beautiful man, though eccentric, so your first thought was that he was the son of a noble family that came to the city to honor the god of the Sun at the temple beside your garden.

He’s probably thinking that the garden is part of the temple’s territory. I must clarify this mistake and lead him back through the right path.

And you were going to do that very thing, but he was faster.

Without waiting for an invitation or at least a question about his presence there, the man approached your spot and stopped in front of you, observing your tiny person surrounded by flowers and tools with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief: was this girl really engaging in physical work this early?, his eyes seemed to ask.

You stepped behind, closer to a bush of wild roses, but glanced over your shoulder before touching the thorns – something that made the stranger giggle. You didn’t like that at all.

The first words said between you were his.

– I’ve always said that wild roses were not my favorites, but the truth is that they’ve scared me and charmed me at the same time, and I just couldn’t deal with it – he stretched an arm to touch a spot above and behind you; not disguising the feeling that he was closer than a stranger should be, your eyes followed his movement and found his fingers reaching for a flower of the bush – A ridiculous mistake from an arrogant heart… – and, turning his golden eyes to you, – Don’t you think, my flower?

Your eyes widened, but you managed to control your mouth to not scoff at those words: you’ve been working at that garden for too long now, and from time to time there would be one and other man who would come to celebrate the Summer Festivities at Apollo’s temple, many of them from privileged houses… and about whom you’ve already had a clear opinion.

Let me see… Extravagant clothing at this time of the day, bad sense of direction, abnormally elevated self-confidence and no regard for personal space. Of course, another womanizer who relies on cheap flirting to win innocent hearts. He knows that this type of chatting only works when the speaker is young and beautiful like him, but things would be very different if we had an old, naughty man in his place.

You knew that, if you didn’t do anything to get rid of him, he would bother you for the rest of the morning, and you wouldn’t be able to complete the works of the day, but fortunately you also knew how to deal with this kind of situation, so you decided to act right now...

By moving aside and bending down to grab the garden shears that he made you drop. You stood up again and started removing the small, green leaves from its blades as you spoke.

– My Lord, I suppose you entered here by accident – you started; and, looking into his eyes, still with the shears’ blades up – Because, you see, despite the proximity, this garden doesn’t belong to Apollo’s temple. No festivities will happen here.

It was with a bit of diversion that you observed the bright smile fading from his pretty face, but you remained impassible, for you were aware that this one was an experienced gentleman and wouldn’t give up so easily.

And he didn’t.

– I must be indelicate and disagree with you, Miss – he moved his hand away from the flower, but, with an eye on your shears, he hid both hands behind his back – For a garden is a never-ending festivity itself, and the one that is going on right here owes all its beauty to the work of your hands.

You swallowed. He did have a way with words, then. But not even this would be enough for you to allow delays in your routine, and you made that very clear.

– If this is the case, my Lord, I must make use of the same indelicacy and interrupt our conversation here – in a swift move of your hands, the shears closed and opened twice with a metallic whisper – And keep working on the garden’s beauty.

And, without waiting for a response, you turned your back on the man and restarted to prune the bush with the roses, just as you were doing when he arrived.

Not even this was able to shake the young man’s confidence, for he just stepped aside and continued to talk, caressing the flowers at the same time. No irritation or offense was sensed in his tone.

– Then I must leave you to complete your mission – and, after a pause, – But I’m trapped here, and you’re the only one who can release me... by letting me know your name.

Your hands stopped and you turned to him again. You weren’t willing to reveal it to him, but if that was going to make him go away, you would do it.

– Y/n s/n.

The young man opened a satisfied smile. But, instead of saying his own name in return, he just stepped back and nodded.

– For this I will be forever grateful, my y/n. I will make sure that Apollo’s blessing falls over you and your work concerning this celebration of beauty.

And without waiting for a response, he turned away and left.

***

If only the Festivities in honor of the Lord of the Sun were shorter, or if your garden was located in somewhere else, the strange events of yesterday involving that extravagant individual would be just a funny story to remember in an encounter between your friends, or even something you would forget after a week.

But, unfortunately, things don’t always go as we plan, so to your surprise – and exasperation – the situation happened again in the next day.

You were pouring water on the soil, in a spot of the garden not so far from the one where your first encounter happened, having only the sounds of the water falling from the can and the early birds singing on the trees as your company, when the rustling noise of indiscreet steps upon the grass caught your attention.

You turned around… and found the shinning figure of the young man smiling at you, his right hand leaning on the tree at his side, his golden eyes upon you with the same enthusiasm of the last day.

You bit your lip.

I can’t believe it. Did he forget everything that happened yesterday?

If he noticed your displease or if he chosen to ignore it, you didn’t know, but he started a casual conversation without waiting for an invitation.

– Good morning, dear y/n! – he left his spot beside the tree and walked toward you with no sign of embarrassment – As I can see, the festivities continue today.

You just gave him a silent nod in reply. The man’s smile widened in contentment.

– That’s good to hear, for today I bring you something that you might appreciate…

Only then you noticed the object he was carrying on his left hand: a bracelet made of gold, in the shape of a vine and with a white gem in its center, with rays surrounding it as an imitation of the sun. You looked at the object and hesitated.

– My Lord, it is not…

But when the words were still crossing your lips, you felt a strong hand holding your wrist and pulling it forward, making you drop the watering can; before you did anything, the man put the bracelet around your wrist and spent a moment admiring it, with your tiny hand between his.

You even tried to pull it back, but the he held you in place. You swallowed.

Heavens, his appearance is the most deceiving thing I’ve ever seen! I don’t know many soldiers who possess this strength!

Because of this, you understood that you might have been in danger since the other day, so that time you kept your mouth shut and waited to see what his next step would be.

And you didn’t know if you should feel relieved or shocked when you found it out.

– Now you were granted the necessary permission, my dear – he spoke with softness; and, pulling you closer to whisper in your ear, – The way to the Summer Festivities has opened to you at the Temple of the Great Apollo.

You had no time to respond, to move away or to show any form of refusal. The man, still holding your hand, pulled you with him and started running between the green walls and trees, rushing toward the depths of the garden and not allowing you to stop.

You glanced behind and your heart ached when you saw your work unfinished and the watering can forgotten on the spot it fell, the remaining water leaking and soaking the soil.

***

The path through which he led you, as well as the environment you found when you entered the temple was what you would sense in a dream: in one moment, he was carrying you by the hand through the green labyrinth, in a pace that defied time; in the next one, you were inside high walls of white, imposing columns with marble flowers surrounding them from their highest to their lowest spot, and countless tables of gold with goblets, jars and trays full of fruits, sweets and other tempting treats that were taken by uninhibited, joyful people dressed in flowing fabrics and barefoot, running, hopping and dancing between themselves to the frenetic sound of chords, flutes and drums. The place was a mixture of sounds, colors and smells that confused and numbed your senses, in a way that you were only able to stand thanks to the strong hold of the young man.

Despite that, you still noticed how strange was that those people seemed to move to the music as if they were just one, yet they acted like they weren’t seeing each other, lost in their particular world, to the point you wondered if they knew what they were doing or if they were just caught under a spell.

Are they really happy, or are they forced into this? It’s unsettling...

The people only showed a believable reaction when you arrived… Well, actually, when they put their eyes on the young man, and started reaching for him with no regard for your presence, pushing, bumping and even stepping upon your feet.

In a way you couldn’t understand, he opened his arms wide to receive them without letting go of your hand, with a satisfied smile on his face that seemed to light up when the first rays of sunshine entered the place, embracing him with the same passion as the people around.

It was when a thought crossed your mind as fast as those rays, and you stared at him with a knot in your stomach.

Could it be that he…?

The chorus around you, chanting the same words in delight, was the confirmation for it.

– Apollo! Apollo-sama! You finally arrived, Apollo-sama! Please don’t make us wait this long for you again, Apollo-sama!

His face brightened up with the call of the humans, as if it absorbed their joy and turned it into vital force, returning it to them with the warmth of the sun; to them, he was god, father, husband and master, and he was more than happy in taking all those roles for himself, in what you saw as a hungry, even predatory way. Though you still found it a beautiful thing to observe, you no longer saw any resemblance with a man in his figure.

He was something else.

Feeding himself with their energies and keeping them gravitating around him is like a diversion to him. How scary.

And with the same diversion, he pulled you to a tight embrace, giving you no choice to walk away, for many people came to him and were no dismissed, so that you were trapped between him and them, and you didn’t know for how long you would be able to breathe.

Somehow, he managed to walk among his worshipers and take you with him before you in fact were smothered, and without decreasing in enthusiasm, he looked around and chanted:

– My children, my flowers! Another day of Summer came to bless you! Enjoy it, cherish it like it’s your last!

Immediately, the people obeyed him and, as if slowly forgetting about his very presence, restarted the celebration, dancing and jumping around and opening the way for you two at the same time, not really realizing what they were doing.

Not wanting to join them and not being able to release yourself from Apollo’s grip, you had no choice but to follow him.

***

You walked up spiral, white stairs with golden banisters, ran through a corridor and ended up in front of an enormous pair of doors, which he opened with a slight touch of his hand.

They revealed a wide room that, even in your lack of experience in these matters, you knew to be worthy of a god: everywhere you looked, you saw comfortable chairs and couches, covered with satin sheets and surrounded by trays of sweets and fruits, and countless jars of wine; there was also a small fountain pouring water, with a jar and cups around it. You also saw books, parchments and musical instruments ready to be used. Everything there was arranged to display beauty and pleasure, as expected from its owner.

Once you stepped inside, you heard the sound of the keys turning to lock the doors from inside and shivered.

– My y/n, will you follow me to the balcony? – Apollo passed to your side – There’s something I need to reveal to you, but it has to be in an appropriate place!

And, without waiting for your response, he tightened his grip around your wrist and pulled you across the room, to reach the said balcony.

You passed under an arc with a pair of curtains of a peach shade and found yourself in a place that could serve as a common room of a human house by its largeness, except for the fact that it was uncovered; on it, there was wine, fod and water as well, and a couch twice the size of the ones inside the room, yet none of those objects interfered while you walked among them.

Apollo stopped at the parapet with you by his side. With his arm stretched over it, he indicated the entire view.

– Let your pretty eyes enjoy what’s in front of them with no shame, my dear – he laughed – Trust me, the view of your lands from the Olympus is no match for this!

And you were, in fact, impressed with what you saw.

From there, you were able to spot various things, from the mountains that surrounded the city, passing through the town itself, with its marketplace and daily movement, to nearer places… such as your garden, its open fields and the very spot where you were working this morning when Apollo arrived and abducted you.

Your face burned with the thought.

He has been spying on me from here? Since when…?

You never had the opportunity to inquire him on this, because he had no shame in telling you the whole story.

– Since this Summer started, though I cannot precise the day, I’ve been trapped in this balcony, just as I am now – he turned to you with a strange glimmer in his eyes; you sensed his hand letting go of your wrist and wrapping itself around your waist, bringing you closer as he spoke – I’ve been trapped by you, my flower, for I couldn’t spent one morning without seeing you from here, cherishing with your whole figure, your steps, the work of your hands, all for your precious garden…

You put your hands between you and him, in an attempt to prevent him from approaching even more.

– My Lord, with all the respect, this is my work – you managed to speak – I would never be able to properly take care of a garden if I refused to pour my heart into it…

The god’s response was to widen his already present smile, giving to it a hint of something that would be called presumption if he was a mortal man.

– I know it! I know well how these things work, and for this I am jealous – he caressed your face for an instant, his eyes swallowing each traits of yours with greed – I am jealous of your flowers, of your trees, and everything that has been blessed by the touch of your hands…

You gasped.

– My Lord, I think this is going too fa…

Your words were cut off by his next act, which consisted in wrapping his arms around you and lifting you from the floor, taking you to the couch you saw before, not so far from your spot on the parapet. There he sat you down, then knelt to take off your sandals – of course, without missing the chance to let his fingertips wander through your feet and legs. With no visible ways to escape this situation, you could only observe the scene in silence.

The door is locked, I don’t think I could open it as fast as he closed it, he’s too strong for me to put a physical fight and is too lost in his own fantasies to hear a word I say. I see no solution besides climbing up the parapet and jump.

While this thought was still crossing your mind (and your eyes glancing at the parapet), Apollo was already climbing the couch. You tried to move away, but he was faster: holding your jawline, he pulled you close to him, his lips brushing yours as he spoke.

– I beg you, my little flower… stop making me jealous… pour your heart to me… be mine…

You opened your mouth to speak, to reply, to try and reason with him one last time, to ask for his divine favor and beg him to let you go, but Apollo didn’t even give you the time to breathe: convinced that actions would teach you better than words, he covered your mouth with hungry kisses, his tongue reaching for yours in a hurry, his hands grabbing your body with voracity. With the lack of air, your lungs started to burn and your eyes got filled with tears.

Your hands, still free, pulled him away by his chin; he stared at you in incredulity.

– Please… my Lord… – you forced your words out, alternating them with gasps – Please… reconsider…

For the first time, Apollo seemed to have his patience tested, and the slight twist in the color of his eyes instilled fear in your heart like you’ve never felt before.

– Too late to think, my y/n… It’s time to act.

He pushed himself upon you on the couch and a second kiss happened, longer and hotter. Now that your attempt to stop him failed, desperation was taking over you, leaving you with two choices: letting him continue or dying for opposing to a god’s will.

The latter seemed less painful for you, so you opted for it.

Beside the couch, just like the other seats at that room, there was a small table with a metallic jar on it; you glanced at it when Apollo let go of your mouth and brought his kisses to your neck, and supposed that it was full. An idea came to you, but you had to be careful.

If I fail at this, it’s over for me.

With slow movements, you managed to bring your body closer to the table’s side, taking the god with you, leaving him too occupied in his caresses to notice anything around. You even reciprocated some of his touches to disguise your nervousness, and waited until you were sure that your hand would reach the jar’s wing.

When the moment came, you stretched your left arm… and your fingers closed around its wing, lifting it from the table with all the strength you could find.

Everything happened too fast for your eyes to follow: catching him in a surprise was your only and greatest advantage, and you managed to do it. The jar flew from the table and hit Apollo’s head, forcing him away from you and dropping the laurel wreath from his hair; confirming your prediction, the jar was full, and the water spread all over the place as the metal clanged against the floor.

You wasted no time: you dragged your body out of the couch and fled the balcony, leaving your sandals and a paralyzed, dismayed Apollo behind. You crossed the room like a ray and somehow unlocked the door easily despite your shaking hands; not only this, but you had the nerve to take the key with you and lock the door from outside to slow the man who would certainly come after you.

***

Your feet barely touched the stairs while you walked down. Behind your back, there was still silence, but you knew it wouldn’t take long until Apollo reached the door and found a way to open it, so you wouldn’t stay to see what was going to happen.

You soon were back to the wide room where his worshipers were celebrating, and it was with no surprise that you found them as happy as before, and that, as you joined the crowd to reach the exit, they barely remembered you. Still, you couldn’t help finding it scary to be squeezed and pushed to all sides by those strangers, who screamed, sang and danced with no regard for each other and for themselves, as victims of a sinister spell.

***

The image of you running away from him was the most terrifying of the nightmares.

Apollo could have ran after you, grabbed you and pulled you back to the balcony. He could have also stretched his hand toward you and used his golden threads to wrap your body and force you to stay, to submit to him. He even managed to raise his hand while you turned your back to him and moved away, passing under the arc that separated the balcony to the rest of the room… but he didn’t do anything.

He just stood there, paralyzed by the surprise with your reaction and the resulting dizziness in his head, his vision darkening as he came to the shameful conclusion.

What I did… there was nothing beautiful about it.

***

The sun was higher in the sky when he regained his consciousness and left the balcony. It must have been one hour or two, judging by its position now – long enough for the effects of the strike to diminish. His head hurt so much that he was sure he would be dead if he was human.

He left the balcony and passed by a mirror, not so far from its entry. He spotted the bruise on his forehead and flinched: it was darker, deeper than he first imagined. Not that he should be worried about having a permanent scar, of course, but it would ache for days.

The god crossed the silent room and stopped by the doors. One look to the lock and he noticed the absence of the key; the shadow of a smile came to his lips.

Clever girl. Trying to slow me down.

He raised his left hand and, working with his golden threads, he involved the doors and pushed them out of their hinges, destroying both with a thunderous sound. He walked out of the room in firm steps, the wreckage cracking under his golden sandals as he approached the stairs and walked them down.

In a minute, he has reached the first floor, where his worshipers continued to celebrate, yet this time a wave of uneasiness has spread silently among them, clearly provoked by the sound of wrecking materials upon there.

Of course, he was eager to leave and start chasing after you, but he was empathetic with the ones who were there just to love him, and made sure they were all calmed down by his words; with this, they were free to go back to their worshiping, knowing that their Lord would be back in a few moments.

He left the temple and rushed to the garden, as his feet were led by instinct to the place that first connected you, but it was with no surprise that he saw you weren’t there; you didn’t even use the garden as escape route. Still, his heart didn’t ache less with the sight of your tools on the soil, and your flowers abandoned, for they meant only one thing.

Not only you were gone, but you weren’t coming back.

***

Autumn came sooner to those lands that year.

The Temple of the Sun closed its gates long before the last week of Summer, and the worshipers returned to their homes with a strange weight in their hearts; it was clear that their god wasn’t content, but the reason was only known by himself, and perhaps as an act of mercy, he protected them from his wrath by sending them away, assuring them of their innocence and promising a warmer season of festivities for the next year.

The days quickly became short, and the winds of the new season were colder than they were in the previous years; the city’s inhabitants were caught in a surprise, and even feared what Winter has reserved for them. The streets were empty, the markets saw their clientele grow thin, the richest traveled to distant lands and the common people were hidden inside their houses. In the wild, the beasts and the small creatures were sharing the same difficulties, and just as it happened with the humans, there was no guarantee that they would make it through the longer period of cold.

Apollo, on his turn, stood in that house alone, instead of traveling back to his place and his divine fellows at the Olympus: he missed their company, but had no strength to face them after the ugliness he created; it has been a monstrosity and a shame, and this was something he must endure all by himself. And so he did it, spending his days and nights wandering among the cold walls of marble, inside which the sound of chords, voices of adoration and the wine being poured in the goblets wouldn’t be heard, and the echo of his own steps were his only partner; the fires lightened by his followers stopped making him warm even before they turned into smoke and cinders, the sweetness of their incense made him sick and the golden altars and objects of devotion turned gray to his eyes.

All because of what he did to you. Because in his eagerness to make you stay, he ended up scaring you away, and the sun that should have kept you content and safe almost burned you to death. How, he asked himself, how did he deprive love from its natural beauty, he who lived to exalt the beautiful? But silence was the only thing to reply.

***

Apollo visited your garden every morning, staying there for a while before returning to his temple and to his dark meditations. Protecting his physical form from the cold with a gray cloak, he wandered through the natural walls that were once green, but now had only brown and red to offer to his sight; the grass was now a shadow of what they were, just dried vegetation that would crack and whiter under his feet, and the flowers came undone to the touch of his fingers.

Many times he passed by the spot where he abducted you, and tears would fill his eyes as he looked at the watering can and the tools rotten on the cold soil, useless after so long time without executing their functions. One morning, he even considered touching them, but when he approached his hand no remnants of your spirit could be sensed in them, and he moved away.

Well, your presence just vanished from the garden itself, and even from the town: sometimes, he would disguise himself among the mortals and seek for your face in the corners of the streets, but he knew the search was worthless. You were long gone.

Actually, you left and hid on the other side of the land, and even your acquaintances haven’t heard about you since Autumn began. But even you couldn’t deny that the season was less merciful that year… and it didn’t take long for you to realize it had something to do with the episode at Apollo’s House. Maybe he couldn’t accept that a mortal woman defied him, and decided to punish her entire land in return; or maybe he just decided to leave sooner, and with him Summer has left. It was hard to be sure when it came to the gods.

However, as much as you weren’t willing to try and seek for his favor against your will in order to save the people of the city, innocent and defenseless against Nature, your heart has been yearning for your garden, your true house, where your happiness and strength and life purpose were. You’ve been struggling to stay in your hideout and wait until the god’s wrath was over, but you just couldn’t take it anymore.

One morning, despite the cold and the adversities, you dressed up and traveled back there. You had no idea of what you were going to find once you stepped into your beloved garden, and a thousand nightmares haunted you while you were on your way, and the times when you thought of giving up and return to the hideout weren’t few…

But all of this noise disappeared when you found yourself, in fact, standing before the garden’s gates. A breeze passed by you at that moment, coming from inside the garden, and sent a chill through your body – a chill that reached your heart.

You forced your feet to move ahead.

As you walked, farther from the entry and closer to the depths of the garden, you noticed that the sensation of loneliness that you were anticipating didn’t come. Yes, the flowers were dead, the grass was dry and the birds disappeared from the trees, but you had this strange feeling telling you that you weren’t the only living being wandering among the reddish vegetation.

A sudden instinct led your feet to the very place where your watering can and shears were left the day you were taken away by Apollo. Were they in the same place, still waiting for your return? You’d only know if you reached there.

And you did. And they were there. Covered in dirt, dead leaves and ivy.

But they weren’t alone. Someone was watching them in silence, standing among the desolation as if they were just a part of it that was waiting for you to come back as well.

And, perhaps, they were, for when they turned to you, your heart dropped.

It was him. It was him, there was no way for you to be mistaken.

The golden bright in his eyes has faded away, and so was his smile. The pink of his hair was no longer glowing, and the paleness on his skin was unsettling. He was still the god of the Sun, but the Sun just settled.

Suddenly, you were scared. What if he was there waiting to cease your existence in revenge? What if that was just a vision to deceive you, and you were now in a new trap, from which you had no chance to escape like the first one?

You tried to move your feet, but they wouldn’t obey you. Your heart ached inside you, and your eyes were getting filled with tears.

Is this how I’m going to die, then?

Apollo left his spot and walked toward you. He was still silent, but no sign of his intentions could be sensed, and you were too scared to try and guess them. Still, something wasn’t right – and when you finally had the courage to look straight to his face, you understood what it was.

From his eyes you saw tears rolling. And in his expression there was only room for incredulity and pain. It was when you knew: it wasn’t a vision; it was really him. And he couldn’t believe you were there.

Apollo stopped before you and you flinched, not knowing what to expect. You shut your eyes tight… and no touch, no extravagances nor punishment came.

You opened them again and found the proud god kneeling on the dirt soil, taking his cloak from his shoulders and leaving it beside him on the ground, his eyes glued on you all the time, as if you could disappear at the slightest distraction.

You didn’t know how long you stood like this, having only the winds to voice your anguish, but the silence became unbearable, and you opened your mouth to speak – but, as always, he was faster.

– Forgive me.

Two words only, but enough to shake your spirit and think of how strange reality could become. A god apologizing? When would you imagine such a thing?

– Forgive me, my flower – he repeated, since you stood quiet – For those things I’ve done weren’t but terrifying.

He stretched his hand to touch your clothes, but gave up on the gesture as to prove his feeling of shame.

Again, your heart ached, and your mouth dried out. You couldn’t just stand there with no reaction, no word, after traveling for so long to reunite with your beloved garden. But you didn’t know what to do or what would be right, so you just let your body decide.

You knelt on the soil too, before the astonished god, and didn’t try to stop yourself when you saw your arms throwing themselves around him, your head resting on his shoulder, and your skin shivering to the warmth of that embrace. You should be scared, you should be aware of any spell working at that very moment, you should be disgusted to see him there – but you weren’t.

– Yes, Apollo-sama – you murmured, not recognizing your own voice – They were terrifying. But I’m no longer scared.

And that was true. All your fear was leaving. And with the first signs that the Autumn was going away with it, you were strangely in peace.

[yourstarvic]

Summary: Starting a new job is always exciting. Especially with it's taking care of four hungry Jackals. So, here you are, working your way with their crazy antics but at least you get to meet your favorite player.

Pairing: MSBY Jackals x Manager!reader, no romantic pairs...(yet? Still thinking about it...Maybe do a poll? Let me know what ya'll think)

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You dragged your feet as you entered the training setter, the events from yesterday with Sakura drained your energy that you still haven’t recovered. A Sunday was meant to rest, get brunch, drink mimosas, and lounge around, but work had called you one more for a managers and coaches meeting. With fingers crossed and a prayer on your lips, you hoped for an early day. 

“Good morning!” You smiled, walking into the conference where a few of the managers were already waiting. 

“Good morning!” They all responded to you, smiling as bright as yours. Taking a seat next to one of the manager, they happily invited you to their conversation as you organized everything for the meeting. 

“So,” Hana hummed, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “How was date night yesterday?”

“Wait, Hana-“

“I got called in,” you pouted with a cold tone. “And when I did get home for a date night, he wasn’t even there. He went out with some high school friends. Saying there was no point since I worked. And then we argued this morning.”

“Are you serious!”

“You got called in?”

“If it was planned, follow through! He could have waited!”

“I’m more tired than upset,” you sighed, placing your cheek on the table as you looked at them, hiding a yawn behind your hand. “It’s been a while since I had a day off.”

“Sorry,” Yuki winced at your strained voice. “But this meeting won’t take long, promise!”

“I hope so…”

Thankful the meeting went by quickly. Covering the next month's schedule and practice games, what each player needed to work out, and what each of you could do to help each other, you were happy that it went by so quickly. Now, having your afternoon and evening free you were going to spend the day exploring the city.  “Any fun plans?” Hana asked, catching up to the right as you left the training center.

“I wanted my boyfriend to show me around Osaka,” you pouted, “but with the argument this morning, maybe another day. Sleep sounds so good right now.”

“Can I ask… Why were you arguing about?”

“I rather not talk about it-”

“Sorry!” She quickly apologized, feeling she had overstepped. “I didn’t mean to!-”

“It’s not that,” you quickly assured her, scratching your neck in embarrassment. “It's just something… Embarrassing.”

“I see,” she hummed, “

Waving at her as the two of you parted ways, you started to head back to the apartment that you shared with your boyfriend. You thought of ways how to talk to your boyfriend about the argument. Telling him about the advertisement yesterday, and he wasn’t happy with how close you were either Sakusa. You understood where he was coming from, but it was your job! And you didn’t have a say in it! And you’ll get to be on TV! It should be an exciting and proud moment…right?

Deciding to take a detour, you walked through a park that was near your apartment complex, wanting to clear your head before talking to your significant other. Enjoying the peacefulness, you sighed in contentment, seeing family and couples enjoying the day; casually walking, playing on the playgrounds, or a picnic underneath the cool shades of the tree. It was peaceful. At least, it was peaceful. 

“One more!”

You know that voice. 

“Just one more!”

Don’t look. 

“One more-”

Making eye contact, you instantly flinched. Quickly turning away and started to take a step away. Yet the voice was quicker. Hearing the excitement in his voice made you feel guilty that you wanted to run away, “(L/n)-San!”

“Hey, Hinata!” You turned, smiling at the tangerine. Walking up to him, he happily ran towards you, excited to be seeing you outside of work. “What are you doing here?”

Beaming at you, he puffed out his chest with pride, “My sister visited me and I’m helping her out!” But he suddenly deflated, a scrunch of his nose as he mumbled, “And shittygama is also helping out and visiting.”

“Shittygama?” You question yourself, wondering how bad a person had to be for Hinata to make a foul face and give someone such a nickname. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” Quickly changing the topic, turning his mood. 

“Yeah! Let me introduce you!”

Walking over to the sand volleyball court, you saw a young girl who looked just like Hinata, with an energetic smile and sparkling eyes. “This is my sister, Natsu!”

“Nice to meet you,” you greeted her, smiling wider as Hinata looked so proud of his little sister. “I’m (L/n) (Y/n), I’m a Manager for MSBY Jackals. I work with your brother.”

“Nice to meet you!”

“And this is,” Hinata forcefully said. Not wanting anything to do with the other person. “This is-”

“Kageyama Tobio!” You cut Hinata off. Your eyes went wide as you stared at the man in front of you in awe. There he was, his blue eyes staring at you in surprise when you burst his name out. His figure looming over that you crane your head up to have a good look at him. “I’m a huge fan! I’ve seen you play ever since you joined the Alders and when you first joined the Olympic team!” Excitement bubbled in your chest as you stared at him. The Kageyama Tobio! In front of you! 

“Thank you,” he said quickly, nodding his head at you, his face not changing to any emotion.

“(L/n)!” Hinata whined pushing the setter away to stand between the two of you, “You can’t go around saying that to the enemy!”

“Don’t push me!” Kageyama angrily said, pushing Hinata’s head down. 

The two started to bicker at each other. Fighting as young kids. Pulling on hair, tugging in shirts, pulling the other’s cheeks as they insulted each other. You stared at them for a few seconds, then turned to look at Natsu who only shook her head in disapproval, “How does Hinata-San know Kageyama?”

Turning to look at you, she tilted her head in confusion, “You don’t know?” Shaking your head at her, she turned to look at the duo, “They went to the same school.”

“I see,” you hummed, taking in the information. Until it registered in your head, “Kageyama went to the same school as Hinata?”

“You really don’t know!” Natsu exclaimed with wide eyes. This caught the two pro athlete's attention, seeing how very surprised you were when finding the news. “All through high school, they were known as the crazy duo! Especially during nationals!”

“You didn’t go to school here, right, (L/n)-San,” Hinata asked, pretending the fight he had with Kageyama never had happened. 

You smile, feeling warmed that Hinata remembered a small detail about you. “I’m from the States and stayed till I graduated from University. I started being a fan of yours when a friend of mine showed me a video of you. Your sets are amazing and always dead on.”

“Oí! Stop changing the topic to him!”

The Alders setter, ignoring his old schoolmate, gratefully smiling at your euthanized smile, “Thank you for supporting me.”

“Weren’t you leaving!” Hinata showed his teeth to Kageyama, a suddenness of protectiveness overcoming him. You are his manager, the MSBY manager. You shouldn’t be having heart eyes over a mediocre setter who gives him great tosses. You should have heart eyes for your team! A team that you work with, not the enemy!

“And weren’t you the one that wanted him to stay?” Natsu pointed out, giggling at her brother’s antics.

“Who’s side are you on!”

“You’re not one of the greatest setters, but one of the great volleyball players in the generation,” You gushed, excitement bubbling through you.

“Come on Natsu!” Hinata grumbled, pushing Kageyama away from you, “We got to get going! Kageyama has to leave.”

“Stop pushing me!” Kageyama barked at the Jackal, digging his heels. 

“Shut up! Manager thief!” 

“Sorry about them,” Natsu laughed, seeing how successful her brother was in pushing the setter away from you. Still fangirling that you had just met Kageyama, you didn’t mind Hinata and his fight with each other. “They always fight over something.”

“I don’t mind,” You blissfully sighed. Looking over at the young girl, you noticed the ball in her hand. “Sorry that I interrupted your practice time.”

“More like Shoyo and Kageyama practice,” she pursed her lips, watching the two volleyball players arguing away from them. “I really wanted to hit some good sets in.”

“If you would like I could help,” You offered, a way to make up for the interruption. 

“Really!” She was delighted over the request. “I would-”

“Natsu!” Hinata's voice yelled out, “Help me stop Kageyama! He’s trying to get away.”

“Maybe next time,” You giggled, seeing how quickly she deflated at her brother’s request. 

Sighing in defeat, waved a farewell at you, “Next time! See you, (L/n)-San!”

Saying goodbye, you waved at her as she quickly ran after her brother and Kageyama before turning on your heel and skipping back home. The smile of the excitement of seeing your favorite volleyball play echoes in your head. Today was a great day, you happily thought. Quickly grabbing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly sent a text to a friend from college, telling him about meeting the famous young setter. 

Prev - Masterlist - Bonus - Next

Notes: Sooooo what yall think 🫣 I had to out Kageyama in there ❤️ he’s my number two (after Sakusa ❤️) I hope yall enjoyed it! Don’t forget to take care of yourself and drink lots of water! 🔫❤️

Taglist: @usermins @walllflowerrrsss @nagi-core

[nenelonomh]

weekly reflection, week one

whilst looking at my calendar for the upcoming week, i realized that i had forgotten to reflect on my week at school. i planned this as a way to encourage better study habits and to hold myself accountable.

this week i studied 6 hours 27 minutes (measured on ypt). my sessions were 40 minutes - 2.5 hours long. i definitely want to build the habit of studying every day, where i can. even if it's just for 20 minutes before school starts.

on monday, i went out with my sister after school. school was horribly exhausting but i made sure to honour our monday tradition. i think we're going to start hanging out more sporadically instead of each week monday. when i got home on monday i was so exhausted and i didn't do any work.

on tuesday, i had training after school. we did a high intensity circuit - which was actually super fun. since my friend gem had tutoring at the same time, we studied together in the refectory for 40 minutes. then, i caught transport to my friends house and went to karate. i got home ~8:00 pm, which is super late for me - but i managed to shower and get ready for the next day.

wednesday morning i had another training session: a lower body weights session. my legs were so sore the rest of the week, but i managed to beat a lot of my records! on wednesday afternoon i simply went home and tried to study.

something that i have noticed this week is that after school i need a break. otherwise, i feel horribly overwhelmed and unable to do any work. i've been looking into breathing exercises - to calm myself and reset before i begin my afternoon study.

(the reason that i have to study so hard right now is because my exams are in week 6, which means that i only have 4 more weeks to learn and revise everything.)

on thursday i was lucky enough to get dropped off to the train station, instead of catching the bus. on thursday afternoon after school i went home and studied. this was the day that i achieved 2.5 hours.

on friday, i organized a study date with my friends at our local university library. it was super fun, and i was semi-productive but i got really tired around an hour in. then, i struggled to do any work and i just wanted to go home.

meal prepping this week was super helpful for me. not stressing about making my lunch for school when i'm getting ready in the morning saves so much time. i'm going to continue to do this and look for some more recipes. maybe i'll post a meal plan lmao.

next week i'd like to attend more karate sessions and start making my piano practicing more of a habit.

saturday and sunday will be a part of next week's reflection since i was meant to write this on friday arvo.

❤️ nene

[mariipun]

Adventures of Wally & The Gang (plus their Caretaker)

Adventures of Wally and the Gang (plus their Caretaker)

Associates Meeting (one-shot)

Warnings: None. Just fluff and funsies honestly; silly antics some of the cast members get themselves into. By no means are my interpretations in relation to Clown’s work, and therefore, not canonically based. Consider this an introduction to the whimsical one-shots to come with our dear Caretaker and the gang.

Word Count: 1,970

Brief Description: Set in the modern world, the Welcome Home cast is alive and aware, living alongside humans. And you have been contracted to be their Caretaker. [you are referred to by the puppets as “Caretaker” or “Care” for short.]

Dedication: @nonomives @kandavers

 *blows kiss* Wanted to give you both this as my debut. 

[I am open to constructive criticism, feedback and ideas! Please inbox me if you have any! I’m a bit rusty with writing, so I appreciate any insight]

In a world much like the Muppets, puppets co-exist with humans. Although the colorful ensemble of characters from the beloved children’s TV show portrays themselves as sweet, educational, fun-loving personas-- when they aren’t on the air, they happen to get themselves into quite a lot of mischief. And you, the lucky individual that you are, have been contracted as their Caretaker to ensure these chaotic puppet actors stay on schedule and don’t put themselves in situations that could cause bad publicity.

You walked off set after speaking to one of the producers as the show had wrapped up earlier than expected. This made it easier to schedule the upcoming appointments you had meticulously organized around the otherwise busy puppet’s schedules. With clipboard in hand, you made your way over to the break area, where most of the cast members were chatting with stagehands, makeup artists, or lounging in their deck chairs.

“All right everyone!” You clapped your hands together to garner the attention of the cast, all eyes turning to you except for Barnaby standing over the spread table, hungrily grabbing at the box of doughnuts one of the interns had placed out. You deadpan at him before shouting his name, earning an audible hmph?! as the blue mass turned to look at you, a sprinkled doughnut hanging from his mouth, with two others in hand.

“Okaaaay—now that I have everyone’s attention, we have an early flight to catch tomorrow for our meeting with our studio associates, which will take place later in the afternoon once we’ve arrived.” You scan the break area to ensure they’re still listening, amused by Julie and Sally as they respond with shared squeals, already chatting about plans to sightsee the area and meet their adoring fans. Their bubbly response caused you to grin momentarily, before turning serious.

“That means! You all need to be awake, packed, and ready to go at 6 A.M. sharp.” You say sternly, now earning loud groans from a few of the puppets.

“Okay, okay.” You waved your hand dismissively to the choir of complaints. You didn’t know why they were complaining, considering they usually wake up this early in the morning to start the show. Rolling your eyes, you let out a breath, mentally preparing for whatever shenanigans these puppets will pull on you later. “You guys have the rest of the day to relax since it’s only 2 P.M. right now. Just remember, we need to stick to the schedule. I don’t want to have to explain myself to the Manager if things derail.”

With a resounding “All right” from everyone, you went your parting ways and continued to work out the schedule’s details. “Also! Julie, you better pack light! We are only staying for two days, so don’t bring your whole wardrobe with you—again…” You called after her, ignoring her refusal to do so.

[Next Day: 5:41 A.M.]

You grabbed your duffle bag, slinging it over your shoulder before grabbing the briefcase on your way out of your small apartment. Before descending the stairs of the apartment building, you turn back in to grab your coffee, yawning in the process. “Ugh, gonna be a long day.” You murmur to yourself, the lingering drowsiness from slumber not yet leaving your body. You check the time on your phone as you take a gentle sip. You only lived a 7-minute walk away from the set, which you were grateful for since (1) You didn’t own a car and (2) The Studio provided you with lodging once you agreed to be the cast’s Caretaker. The pay was all right considering the added bonuses of what the Studio provided for you, although, it’s probably due in part to the various applicants that had been hired and then immediately quit due to their lack of ability to actually wrangle the cast from committing any sort of war crimes. (Guess the Studio needed to give some sort of incentive for someone to fill the role). Taking on the task was daunting at first since you quickly learned how eager the members were to push boundaries. You didn’t necessarily blame them for being curious since there was still so much of the world they wanted to learn about. Of course, this made your job more difficult to handle at times.

[5:53 A.M.]

You walked through the studio’s hallways, quietly greeting good mornings to other studio employees as you passed. The meeting location for everyone was in room 2A, usually reserved for auditions, but opened for you to ensure everyone came on time. Arriving at the room, you saw that most of the members had already arrived. Poppy, sitting comically large on one of the chairs and leaning against the wall as she continued to sleep. Barnaby and Wally both lazily tapping on their phones; Frank and Eddie who were both reading; Howdy who had just strolled in with a loud yawn, and…. Julie and Sally? Who weren’t even here yet. Of course, knowing them Sally would come in ‘dramatically’ late, as per usual, and Julie would usually stroll along. You greet those who were already there good morning, earning a few mumbled good mornings in return and a quiet snore from Poppy. You leaned against the wall next to the entrance, taking out your schedule:

6 A.M. - morning roll call

6:10 A.M.- arrive to cars

6:30 A.M. - board private jet

8:30 A.M. (projected arrival time)

9:00 A.M. – early check-in

-

-

-

1:30 P.M. – production meeting

-

-

-

5:30 P.M. – dinner reservation (for self)

-

-

You nod, everything was still on track for the most part… Sally would soon come in beaming and entered the room with a loud, sing-songy “I’m here!”, followed by the same response as the heaving Julie dragged an absurdly stuffed suitcase in tow. The sudden intrusion caused Poppy to jolt awake, everyone else looking over as the pair came in. You glanced at the time, 6:12 A.M.

“You’re late…and I told you to pack light--” You comment, shaking your head gently as the two tried to begin explaining. Raising a hand to stop them, you turned to everyone with a small smile, went over the plans for travel, and ushered them all to the awaiting cars outside.

[8:32 A.M. Landing]

As the jet landed, everyone deplaned and entered the cars that would transport them to the hotel. Once you have all arrived at the hotel, you check everyone in, soon giving them each their own room keys on the same floor. You gave them all a nod of approval as you all entered the elevator and went up to the 14th floor. You all agreed to meet in the lobby after freshening up to discuss any further plans. As you waved to them, you entered your room and took in the welcoming atmosphere. Plush pillows, clean sheets, a stocked mini fridge, a desk, a great window view, and a bathroom full of high-quality amenities you would surely take back home. (No one’s going to miss a few small bottles of shampoo and conditioner anyway). You place your briefcase on the desk, plop the duffle bag on the chair, and throw yourself onto the inviting bed. With arms spread wide, you inhale sharply as you stretch, sighing in contentment for a moment. The temporary silence gave your much-needed overworked mind some peace, before going into the bathroom to get ready. You would soon greet everyone with a much chippier attitude as they had all been waiting for you in the lobby area. You took notice as more guests began to enter the hotel, some with young children excitedly pointing out Wally and the others, pleading to meet them as their tired parents tried to calm their resounding squeaks. It was times like these when you got a break, witnessing the excitement and wonder of fans felt endearing. You were with a group of celebrities after all. Trying to keep a low profile was, unfortunately, not an option in your field of work.

“So, what do you guys want to do?” Eddie inquires. Everyone began throwing out ideas, Julie insisting they go shopping; Frank, who commented on a museum exhibit; Sally wanting to check out the old (presumably haunted) theaters; Howdy and Poppy bouncing ideas about taking a tour downtown; and Barnaby mentioning an all-you-can-eat buffet. The overwhelming chatter droned out your thoughts as everyone turned to you, arguing that they “Should do this!”, “No, this—“, “Care, I want to—“. You tried hushing everyone as their voices became increasingly loud in volume, garnering more attention from the hotel guests as their rambunctious natures were disturbing the ease of the lobby.

“Hold on, hold on. We only really have three more hours before we go to the meeting, so we might not be able to do everything today—” You try to console everyone, your response not satisfying the puppets as they began bickering amongst themselves. You heard a few complaints that you were being too ‘strict’, too ‘uptight’, ‘just relax a bit will ya, we’ve got time’. You huff, knowing you needed them all together since they’d do ‘who knows what’ when apart from you. Maybe you should just ask to be promoted from Caretaker to Glorified Babysitter at this point, the title is more suitable. You attempted to hush them again, only to be met with more insistence that they do “this idea, or that”. You could barely put a word in as your eyes slowly fell on Wally, who in his usual laid-back manner, said nothing. Simply observing the conversations and locking eyes on you.

You could tell by his demeanor, mischievous grin on his face, he was brewing up a plan. Your eyes narrow, squinting at him as you both engaged in a stare-down. “Don’t—” You emphasized, everyone else taking notice and silently watching. “Wally. Do not—”

“Scatter.”

“I said-- Ah!--?!” Before you could protest, you were encased in oversized blue arms, Barnaby coming up to give you a hug from behind, his chuckles booming loudly in your ears. He picked you up slightly, your legs kicking as you tried yelling for them all to “Get back here!”. Both Sally and Julie bolted for the entrance, waving hello and goodbye to those they passed by; Howdy and Poppy scuttled away, continuing to chat; Frank and Eddie looked at each other before heading to the museum, as Wally sneakily exited stage left. You went limp in Barnaby’s arms, cheeks red with frustration as you slowly descended back onto your feet. He chuckled, patting your shoulder (insult to injury).

“You know kid, you should just take it easy. We finally have some downtime, just let ‘em go and have some fun. Same with you, see you in a bit.” He chimed, walking off to the hotel’s restaurant.

You stood there in defeat, running your hands up and down your face before pinching the bridge of your nose. As expected, it was gonna be a long day indeed.

[2:03 P.M. Associates Meeting]

“Shouldn’t they have been here already?”

“Yeah, I tried calling Care, but they hadn’t respo—”

You burst into the meeting room, hair disheveled, breathing heavy with Wally and Julie tucked under your arms while the rest of the members stood behind you with smiles and greetings. You stomped in, some of the associates just staring as you plopped the two in their seats as the others strolled in before settling down themselves. You said nothing, cheeks hot and nostrils flared before clearing your throat and smoothing your hair. You move off to the side, taking refuge in the seat placed against the wall. You finally slump, head tilted back and resting on the wall as the meeting began.

Yeah, you needed a promotion… and a raise.

[meganlpie]

A Riddle in Pastries

Based on this request: Could you do a s1 Edward x shy reader, where the reader is new assistant for Kristen and has a crush on Ed and secretly leaves small presents on his desk (like coffee or pastries).

Here you are, my lovely! *I do not own ANY Gotham characters. They belong to the writers/creators of the show as well as the creators of the comics.*

Warnings: Fluff-ish?? Brief mentions of workplace bullying. It's a little short

Pairings: Edward Nygma x reader

From the moment you'd met him, you had developed an unexpected crush on Edward Nygma. Your boss, Kristen, called him strange and creepy. But you didn't see it that way. Edward simply didn't understand social cues sometimes. It wasn't his fault. Despite that, the man was an absolute genius that no one else seemed to appreciate. Not the captain, not the detectives, not the other officers, and certainly not Kristen.

          "I don't know what you see in him, Y/N," Kristen remarked one afternoon, "But maybe, if the two of you got together, I wouldn't have to be around him so much." You rolled your eyes at her as you went back to your work. You hated how Kristen had everything organized, but this was her space first and she was in charge so you muddled through. But her comment had sparked an idea in you. There was no way in hell you'd be able to tell Edward how you felt. You were far too shy. But maybe there was another way. One that spoke to Edward's more eccentric side.

*time skip Ed's POV*

          Ed cocked his head to the side when he noticed the pastry on his desk that morning. He would have thought it was mistakenly left there if not for the note with his name neatly written on top. As far as he knew, no one in the precinct liked him or even tolerated him enough to leave him a gift. He was wary as he set down his belongings and sat in his chair. Ed debated opening the note for a moment since he was often the butt of office pranks but something told him this was different. So he donned a pair of gloves(can't be too careful) and opened the note.

          Much to Ed's surprise, there was riddle written in green ink on the note. He read the card and a smile crept onto his face. Someone actually left him a riddle. It wasn't difficult for him to solve, but he was touched that someone had taken the time to do this for him. But who? His first thought, of course, was Ms. Kringle. But then he shook his head. She would never. Ed had no more time to ponder as he needed to get to work, but the question remained in his mind for the rest of the day. Who?

          The rest of the week, Ed came in to find a pastry and a riddle. Every day, it brought a smile to Ed's face. And every day, he continued to wonder who it was. He was smart and had narrowed it down to a couple of people. One of the officers that liked to poke fun at him. Maybe it was an elaborate prank. Or you. You were shy and quiet, but always smiled at him when he came into the records room. You seemed nice. Or at least, you tolerated him.

          Once that idea was planted in his mind, it wouldn't leave. Ed spent the weekend and much of the next Monday contemplating. He paid extra attention whenever you were in his line of sight. He often found your gaze straying to him, but you quickly looked away whenever you saw him looking. As the day went on, Ed was almost certain it was you leaving the riddles and pastries. The only way to know for sure though would be to catch you in the act.

          The next day, Ed came into work extremely early so he could hopefully learn whether his hunch was right or not. He waited out of sight around the corner from his workspace. Sure enough, he managed to catch sight of you entering the room, pastry box and note in hand. Ed rounded the corner and stood in the doorway as you turned around.

          You jumped and let out a little cry of surprise. "It was you," Ed stated. You looked like you might cry a little. "I'm sorry!" You moved to push passed Ed, but he gently touched your arm. "Why? Why would you do this for me? The food? The riddles? I figure out it was you leaving them, but I couldn't figure out why." You tilted your head in confusion.

          "Really? Ed, you're a genius. If you think about it for a moment, I'm sure you can make the connection." Ed nodded as his brows furrowed over his glasses. "The only reasons I could think were that you were just like the rest of them. Making fun of me." You shook your head immediately and Ed continued, "The other is that you have…feelings for me." Ed felt his face heat up as you bit your lip and looked down at your shoes. "Is it weird? It's weird isn't it? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Ed. Really." Once more, you tried to leave.

          "Please stop doing that," he said. You looked at him again. "Stop leaving before I get the chance to say anything." You sniffled a little bit. "I think I've embarrassed myself enough."          

"Would you-that is-would you like to go out? With me? I could cook for us," was Ed's only reply. Your eyes widened. "Really?" He smiled as a little chuckle left him. "Yes." The frown on your lips turned up into a brilliant smile as you agreed.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for! I am working on the second part of "Dating is Hard (When a Hitman Loves You)" as well!)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @brewsthespirit-blog @sirkekselord @aikibriarrose @lady-of-lies @motleymoose @stories-by-shanna-p @dark-angel-is-back @esoltis280 @supernatural4life2022 @asgards-princess-of-mischief

[foster-the-world]

Let's glow!

Last week myself and another mom ran ten glow parties for about two hundred kids. As most things with PTA, it was kind of annoying to organize but turned out to be totally worth it. The kids had so much fun. We got silent disco headphones - so I made sure to dance for at least one song during every party. All ages (1st through 5th) loved the parties. The bigger kids busted out their tiktok dances. It was fun to see the energy. I'm glad to know the older kids weren't too cool to dance. I'll be handing over my PTA exec board duties happily next week. I still plan to be very involved but happy to give up the meetings. I'll probably volunteer to manage teachers appreciation week and end of year parties, again. I have one more monthly newsletter to send out.

My husband went Upstate alone for the weekend. He came back happy and relaxed. I'm glad we made it happened. Baby boy's a lot - which was kind of sad to (re)realize. We normally manage him by splitting up duties. One of us takes him in the mornings and then the other comes in the afternoon or vice versa. So the extra-ness is much more manageable. My in-laws kindly came to get the girls yesterday around noon. They took them swimming at their condo pool. It was a like a light switch flipped with baby boy. The second they were gone he started playing by himself calmly. This was after nonstop unregulated behavior the 36 hours before. For the thirty minutes after they left he entertained himself. Then after his long nap he was calm again. We went to the children's museum. I didn't have to correct him once. I sat on a bench across the room must watching. This is unheard of for him. I normally have to be within six inches of him, with constant corrections, just in case. The museum was pretty empty. I was hanging out with all the (assumingly) divorced dads. Its making me think he's going to need a really small class size for kindergarten. Crowds are really his downfall. There is one DOE program with only 12 kids (8 Gen Ed and 4 special needs) but he'll need an autism diagnosis. Which I still am not convinced he has but think we could probably get. We also won't know if he will get a spot. Limited spots and from what I read the squeaky wheel gets the grease. We can also sue and have the DOE pay for private school. These special needs private schools in NYC essentially become entirely funded by the DOE as everyone, regardless of income, sues. Anyway, working on getting the neurological assessment booked. My husband is calling today to figure out what insurance will cover. Fingers crossed.

I saw graduation photos from the school that would most likely fit his profile. Maybe twenty kids were graduating. It made me kind of sad. It feels like it will benefit him to keep his world small (for now) but I want him to be a part of the big ole world. The girls school is small class sizes but much bigger overall. Anyway, no reason to worry about him graduating from 8th grade/HS. Let's get him through 4k, first.

[noneedtoamputate]

Flyboys and Flirting

I had a chat with @shoshiwrites earlier this week after seeing this photo of Callum Turner in a turtleneck (thanks @hogans-heroes for doing God's work.) I blame her entirely for my Bucky Egan obsession. Like Ellen, I am not one to like the bad boys, but there is something about him and his character development during Masters of the Air that got to me. I tagged the photo with something like Chuck wouldn't mind Ellen taking off her sunglasses to check Bucky out, and Shoshi said no one deserves to look that good in a turtleneck. Based on our chat, here's a little fun one-off I wrote about Colonel Egan stopping by the tobacco store.

San Francisco

October 1957

Afternoons were usually quiet in the shop, a good chance to catch up on pesky tasks like organizing receipts for the accountant. He called Chuck last week, and Ellen saw the headache start behind Chuck’s eyes. Chuck hated anything to do with taxes.

She decided to get a babysitter for Friday and come into the shop for the day. They’d get everything sorted and then go out for dinner, just the two of them, as a reward for a solid day’s work.

They were in the back room, Chuck at the desk and Ellen perched on the counter next to the sink going over August’s purchases, when the bell above the front door rang.

Chuck sighed and rubbed his temple.

“You keep working. I’ll go out front,” she said as she hopped down, giving his shoulder a squeeze before walking out into the store.

Her eyes widened at what she saw. She forced her mouth to remain closed though her jaw wanted to drop to the floor. 

A curly-haired man with a mustache, aviators, and a bomber jacket, looking better in a turtleneck than any man had a right to, stood in front of the high-end cigars. He must have heard her footsteps, because he looked her way, took off the sunglasses, and flashed her a smile, a smile she knew he put on for everyone and had nothing to do with her.

This was a Bad Boy.

Ellen never had gone for the Bad Boys. She’d always liked the honor roll students, the boys next door. She suspected Chuck had gone through a Bad Boy stage, but by the time she met him, he owned the store and shaved every morning and parted his hair just so and was always on time to everything. 

Every once in a while, she wondered what it would have been like to be with a Bad Boy, the boy who kept her out past curfew or had a motorcycle or had a mustache that normally didn’t do anything for her but made her hot and bothered. 

She congratulated herself on wearing a pencil skirt and heels today instead of her usual shirtwaist dress and flats. 

“Can I help you?” she asked calmly as she walked toward him. 

“Yes, I think you can,” he said slowly, still smiling. “I should introduce myself. Colonel John Egan, United States Air Force.”

“Ellen Grant, co-owner of this store,” she said, shaking his hand. “Cigars, I see. What flavor are you looking for today?”

“Perhaps you can explain my options,” he said. 

Despite whatever game they were in the middle of, she wouldn’t play dumb. She went through what made each cigar different, whether they were flavored with sweet Mexican vanilla or spicy Indian pepper, how each one was rolled slightly differently and had different shapes and filters, affecting their taste. 

“Which one is calling you? Sweet or spicy?” she asked coyly, barely believing those words came out of her mouth.

“A little bit of both, I would say.” He lifted his eyebrows just a bit. “Let’s take a box of each.”

They walked over to the counter.

“I just flew into Hamilton Air Force Base last night for meetings. I’m sure my colleagues will enjoy these tonight,” he said. 

“I’m sure they will,” Ellen agreed. “Any cigarettes? Luckies or Chesterfields?”

He looked at her quizzically. “Luckies. How did you know?”

She laughed. “It’s my business. But for most officers, it’s one or the other.” She rang up two packs. 

They made small talk for a few minutes, about the store and his Pentagon desk job, but mostly about flying.

“You seem to know a lot about planes,” he said. He looked down at her finger, the one with the diamond ring on it. “Is your … co-owner a pilot?”

“Well, he was in planes, but he didn’t fly them. A paratrooper,” she explained.

He looked impressed. “The 82nd?” he asked. 

“No!” Ellen almost shouted. “The 101st.”

“Sorry,” John apologized.

“You should be. Those guys in the 82nd were a bunch of amateurs.” She grinned as she handed him the bag.

“Well,” he said, a little deflated at the prospect of leaving, “This has been a delight. Thank you, Mrs. Grant.”

And with that, the spell was over.

“Likewise, Colonel Egan. Enjoy your cigars and the rest of your trip.”

He smiled, nodded, and walked out the door without a second glance. 

Ellen turned around to walk into the back room when she saw Chuck, leaning against the wall, arms folded on his chest with an amused look on his face.

“What?” she innocently asked as she walked past him.

“You were flirting with that flyboy,” Chuck pointed out. 

“I was not!” Ellen could barely keep a straight face.

Chuck couldn’t, and he laughed out loud. “I heard the whole thing. God, it’s so predictable. All it takes is a pair of fancy sunglasses and a leather jacket and all the girls fall for it.” He shook his head. “Here I was thinking my wife would be better than that.”

“Oh,” she said, closing the gap between them and putting her hands on his shoulders. “Are you jealous?”

“Of that guy?” he asked incredulously. “Please.” 

Ellen tilted her head. 

“I’m not jealous, but nobody should look that good in a turtleneck,” he conceded.

She playfully hit him on the arm. “That’s what I thought!” she said.

“I’m not jealous,” he said again, grabbing her by her hips. “I’m the one who gets to do taxes with you and go out to dinner with you and go home with you,” He gave her a slow, sultry kiss. “When is the babysitter off duty?” he asked

“Nine o’clock. The kids should be asleep,” she sighed as he found the spot on her collarbone that she liked. 

“I hope so.” His hands left her hips and roamed lower. “No, I’m not jealous of that guy who is going to be smoking cigars with the brass tonight while I get to be with you.”

“You know, you can be bad, when you want to be,” Ellen remarked. 

“Very bad,” he agreed.

Ellen didn’t want a bad boy. She didn’t want a hotshot pilot with a mustache. But she liked knowing her clean cut, responsible husband who didn’t own a turtleneck could be bad if he wanted to be. That was enough for her. 

[theunstuffedpepper]

Got in some solid movement yesterday! Packed the boys into the wagon for an hour ride around the neighborhood in the morning. I opted for the wagon because I couldn’t find 1 necessary piece to get the double stroller working, and it was kinda wonky with the car seat in the wagon, but it was fun! Then after finding that missing piece, we did a double stroller walk in the afternoon. Holden was digging it. Derrick seemed pretty cool with it too. Having them both all by myself is still slightly intimidating and very exhausting, but I like to think I’m getting better at it.

In the spirit of losing weight, both B and I weighed ourselves this morning. We’re gonna try and do it together now. I’m still hovering about 3 lbs below my pre-pregnancy weight and very much looking forward to seeing that number drop more. I updated my apple watch activity goals in the hopes of not just ignoring them every day like I did while I was pregnant and up til now. 😅

I’ve been in a “sprucing” mode around the house.. new porch leaner and some fall decor. I ordered some things to make the main bathroom more efficient space-use-wise. B has to fix our pantry shelves that are sagging and I ordered some pantry organizers to complete that little project. Photos to come; that’s todays project.

B put some flooring down in the laundry room and threw up a coat of paint. We had ordered a new washer/dryer because my MILs house didn’t have a set. We gave her ours, which were dated but working great otherwise, and got a new set for ourselves. It took about two weeks to have them installed because the washer arrived not working, but anyway now they’re in. B built a butcher block folding table over them and I love, love the look.

We’re finally winding down projects around the house.. We decided the other day to pare down for a while and focus on saving some money. It’s music to my ears, really. I’m a saver by nature.

Aaaand off I go to vacuum again, because I just made direct eye contact with a 2-year-old while he crumbled an entire handful of Chex into my living room carpet. Having kids is a trip.

[sacredbbl]

Fraternity Fever

Jake X reader

Tw: swearing; drunkenness , alcohol, marijuana

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Chapter One

Y/N POV

It all started on a crispy autumn afternoon. You had just transferred to the University of Michigan this year from a small community college in your town. It was weird being a junior, but still feeling like a freshman. Your rock had been Jayden; Jayden was not only your roommate but one of your only friends here. As you walked back from your last class of the day, all you could think about was how excited you were to be going back to your dorm. You could finally finish the book you had been trying to read for weeks. You scanned your ID at the door and crashed into your bed. Just then, you saw Jayden’s face . She was waiting for you to come back.

“Y/N what are you doing tonight?”, dog earring your book to keep your page .

“ I am planning on finishing this book, how about you?” Jayden then jumped onto your bed, her curls bouncing as she got up.

”Y/N don’t be lame, It’s a Friday night, let’s go to Sigma Chi Rho’s party!” She stood up and barreled towards your closet. Jayden was beautiful . Her curly brown hair went down to the small of her back and sat perfectly on her sun kissed skin, Her gorgeous green eyes stared into your closet.

“I don’t know anyone, why would I go?”

“Sigma Chi Ro’s are super cool. I know the president, it will be super fun Y/N! If you hate it you can always leave.” She gave you those puppy dog eyes that she knew you could not say no.

“Fine, but you have to pick out my outfit.” You sighed.

She squealed with excitement. She handed you a black dress that fit you in all the best ways. After twenty minutes of getting ready you decided to take a courage shot and start walking to the sigma house. The air was crisp as you walked the ten minutes to the party. As you got closer, the music became clearer and then you could hear yelling.

“Dude you can’t come in, you are going to kill the ratio!” Say a skinny boy with long hair . Jayden told you he was a pledge who was working at the door tonight. He seemed a little buzzed, and angry. He was talking to a freshman boy whose date already went in.

“What the fuck man, I brought a girl!”

“ You are not going to be fucking let in! You know the rules, if you are not a brother you need at least three girls to get in.”

The guy he was fighting with angrily leaves.

Suddenly we were the next people in line.

“Hey Sam what’s up?”Jayden threw her arms around his shoulders in an embrace.

“Nothing much, Jayden, should be fun tonight, tell me if you run into Danny; That fucker is working door tonight and I am not doing push ups because of him.” He said with a chuckle.

“Sure will!” She replied as she grabbed your hand and pulled you through the doorway. As you walked through the door, you made eye contact with Sam, mouthing a thanks. Then you were whisked away into the bustling crowd.

Jake POV

Another morning. The sun had only risen by the time that you had managed to drag yourself out of the bed. The start of the semester once more - as usual, the entire college would be busy tonight, parties having been organized by essentially every group, every society, but most importantly, every frat. All of you had spent weeks planning this one - games were one of the main things that brought everyone to the house, surprisingly. You never spent the majority of my time playing the games - You always had.. other things to attend to. You had found yourself, tonight, in charge of the music. Playlists had been passed around, but you couldn’t seem to find one that fit right, until an old one passed your screen.

The house was busy already - people hurrying around, trying to hang decorations - you didn’t fully understand it, nobody would be spending their night judging us based on the decorations, and the streamers definitely weren’t the main aspect on everybody's lips for weeks afterwards. Like the others, you found yourself skipping the lectures for the day - it was to be expected.

You had been to the store earlier in the day, bulk-buying anything that could have possibly been needed. Forcing the bottles into the cupboard, just about big enough to fit everything, you turned to Josh once everything had been put away - “Everything’s sorted, I think. Who’s coming?” He stared back at you for a moment, before a soft chuckle left his lips “It’s the first day of senior year - literally everyone that we know. Probably the usual suspects - definitely some juniors” he finished with a wink. To say that you had a reputation would be an understatement. You sighed in return, shoving him slightly before making your way back upstairs. Searching the wardrobe, you found yourself running your hands through your hair. Something felt different.

The usual outfit won once again - black jeans and an old band shirt. Opening the dresser drawers, you retrieved the usual necklaces and rings, pulling them on quickly. It was still relatively early, but people were already arriving, making their way into the house, before quickly to the kitchen. Being a senior, it was your job to keep an eye on everyone. Many a night had been ruined by people drinking too much and inevitably fighting. Josh had been dressed for hours, meticulously planning his outfit as he always did. Shooting him a nod as the house began to fill, the two of us got to work. The music was working well already - with people dancing throughout the whole house. You hadn’t expected it to get so busy so quickly.

Danny and Sam had arrived late, as usual. It was odd having somebody that you grew up with being a new pledge, it felt like getting to know them all over again. The four of you had become even closer than before, spending essentially every living moment together - there wasn’t a single thing that happened in any of your lives that the others didn’t know about.

You watched Sam and Danny as they were talking to people, seeing a commotion starting at the door. A soft sigh left your lips as you began to make your way over. Before you could reach the door, Josh gently pushed you out of the way - as president, he was usually the one who would deal with this sort of thing.

You turned on your heel, seeing the crowds of people move like a wave, before making your way back into your room - your safe haven. Pulling a small bag from your dresser, your fingers wrapped around the joint that had been rolled the night before. You moved out onto the balcony, leaning against the railing as you lit the joint between your lips.

A smile found its way onto your lips as you exhaled, looking up at the stars that adorned the night sky. Your hand made its way into your pocket, pulling your phone from it. As you opened it, you found yourself appreciating the quiet - you could feel the vibrations of the bass underneath your feet, and the cold breeze running through your hair. Scrolling through the usual social media, you wound up watching some of the old frat videos from when you were all younger - josh doing his campaigning for president, everybody had seemed completely enamored with him. It was something that you felt a pang of jealousy for - his ability to talk. Whenever he would begin, you loved to watch people’s reactions, seeming to pause whatever they were doing just to listen to him. You, on the other hand, were much quieter - you liked to keep yourself to yourself.

Y/N POV

As Jayden pulled you through the crowd you realized that you recognized a lot of the faces in the crowd from different classes. She then stopped, and you found yourself at the keg. You grabbed a red solo cup and started filling it up with the cheap beer but anything is good as long as you are drunk. She started talking to the boy next to her. He had a warm smile and big, brown eyes. Suddenly he was facing you.

“Hey, I’m Josh let me know if any of these boys bother you. It is my responsibility for you to have fun. After all, I am the president.” As soon as he finished his sentence his attention turned to another pledge

“Danny what the fuck are you doing in here ?” Josh hurried away. You turned back around to find Jayden but she had disappeared. Typical Jayden. You left the keg and walked around the party, anxiously looking for her familiar face. You took the last sip of your beer and grabbed another drink - this time, the jungle juice. You took a sip and gagged. “God that is strong”.Perfect you thought to yourself, as you moved your way through the crowd to find Jayden. Finally after a couple more drinks you found her. She was on a ratty old couch that had certainly seen better days, basically swallowing the blonde whose lap she was on.

Deciding not to interrupt, you tried to find the bathroom.As you stumbled through the crowded house.You felt the alcohol kick in . You stumbled through the bustling hallway, bumping into partiers , You stumbled up the stairs, carefully making sure that you didn't spill any of your alcohol . Once you got to the top, you glided your hand along the wall as you walked down the hallway. You decided to open the last door on the left . As soon as you walked in, you were hit with the scent of marijuana . As your eyes focused you realized you were not in the bathroom.

Josh pov

As you made your way away from the door, seeing that the guy had walked off, seemingly frustrated, you began to make your way through the crowd. You had already decided to not drink as much as you usually would, taking the time to introduce yourself to some of the newer pledges, and the freshmen that had made their way in. An old friend caught your eye - Jayden.

“Hey!” You exclaimed, making your way over to her. As the two of you caught up, you realized that she had brought a friend. Introducing yourself, you did your utmost to make sure that she felt welcome. Before you could continue the conversation - intending to ask about what she was studying, where she was from - something caught your eye. Danny. Stood in a group of juniors, seemingly trying to show off.

”Danny what the fuck are you doing in here?” You began, furrowing your eyebrows. You made your apologies to the girls, before moving towards him “You’re door!”

He seemed to huff at you as he heard you speak, before nodding his head, quickly making his way back to the door, when Sam stood, seemingly trying to deal with someone who was already way too drunk to be here.

As you continued through the house, you filled your cup with a soft drink, doing your best to watch over the heads as everybody moved around.

“Where the fuck is Jake?” You grumble, despite knowing that he had done what he always did - snuck off with somebody. It wasn’t rare that you’d check his bedroom throughout the party, and find him in there with any amount of girls. Each time that you would check, it would be someone different. He never seemed embarrassed when you walked in, if anything, he was proud of himself. Ever since he had joined the frat, the same time that you did, he had built up a reputation for himself - an absolute womanizer. You could count on one hand the amount of girls in the college that he hadn’t slept with at this point. He didn’t seem to mind the reputation, though - it was something that he relished in. It was easy for him, one conversation and the deal seemed to be done. Watching the crowd, your eyes found their way to the door, where Danny and Sam stood, ushering people in. In all honesty, they weren’t the best at keeping the ratio, but they did seem to try their hardest.

Only a small bit later, you could tell that the majority of people were truly feeling the effects of the night - stumbling in and out of the bathroom, talking to people that they had never spoken to before. You found it fun - seeing how people would change when there was alcohol involved.

Jake POV

Having made your way to the chair on the balcony, you noticed the music only getting louder. Grabbing the glass that sat on the floor, you raised it to your lips, allowing the cold water to fill your mouth. Placing the glass down once again, you reached for the lighter on the table. A small sigh left your lips, in all honesty, you didn’t really care about what was going on downstairs, you knew that Josh knew how to handle it. There was nobody new, nobody that you hadn’t already spent an evening with. You didn’t care for any of them, it was nothing but fun for you, just something that you did to pass the time. As the flame danced around the tip of the joint, illuminating your face, you inhaled, the smoke filling your lungs.

It was then that your bedroom door opening caught your attention. Confused for a moment, you stood up, trying to make out the figure. As soon as your eyes adjusted, you realized that, although you didn’t recognise the girl, she was definitely at the party, having essentially fallen through the door.

”Can I help you?” You called, your voice filled with annoyance. You had come up here for a peaceful night, and yet now there’s a stranger standing in the middle of your room. Waiting for her to speak, you pulled open the balcony door, crossing your arms as you watched her. “I asked you a question.” You speak, raising an eyebrow.

“Where am I?” She chokes out while giggling .

As she replied, you couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left your lips - God.. her laugh.

“You’re in my bedroom.”

“Why am I in your bedroom?” she giggled, her words slurred together.

You could feel yourself softening for a moment as she giggled again. Regaining your composure, still leaning in the doorway, you took a moment to reply. “That’s not something that I can answer. You just showed up.”

As you answered, you watched her face turn as white as paper. You knew that the alcohol had gotten to her as she fell to the ground and puked all over herself and your floor.

“Oh my fucking God.” You spoke, considering for a moment the possibility of calling Josh. Staring down at her, you move towards the bathroom, grabbing a towel for her. Coming back into the room, you placed it down beside her, before reluctantly reaching your hand out for her to grab. You didn’t realize it, but she was whimpering .

“I’m sooo sorry” she cried .

You sighed as you watched her, pulling her up from the ground. Unconsciously placing a hand around her waist, you lead her to the bed, allowing her to sit. You paused, and looked at her for a moment - unsure of what exactly you were supposed to do, you just knew that she couldn’t stay in her clothes. You walked to your dresser and grabbed an old tee shirt you didn’t mind losing and an old pair of sweats. “Arms up” you spoke, as you slowly tried to help her change making sure you don't show your frustration. You took the dress that she had came in, throwing it onto the bathroom floor, before looking into the mirror, “What the fuck are you doing?” You whispered, to nobody in particular. Looking back to the bed, you saw that she was still sat there, clearly feeling sorry for herself. You hoped harder than you ever had before that nobody would walk into the room.

Through tears, she spoke again - “I’m so sorry, I’m drunk ……where’s Jayden”

Continuing to look at her, you crossed your arms once more. “Yeah, I noticed.” You knew Jayden - a friend of Josh’s. “Do you want me to go get her?” You hummed, beginning to make your way to the door, looking back at her.

“No, she is busy,” she whispered. You looked at her dumbfounded, unable to understand why she had been left alone in such a state.

“What the fuck do you mean busy?”

“She is probably hooking up with someone right now!” She slurred

You found yourself grumbling as she spoke, “Yeah, okay, sure” you replied, before making your way to the wall across from her. You weren’t too sure what to do with her, but knew that you couldn’t be seen leaving with her. You knew you had a reputation but this would make it even worse.

“Well guess you are taking my bed tonight” You sigh as you laid her on her side. You pulled her shoes from her feet, laying them beside the bed, before sitting onto the couch that lived in the corner of your room. You debated whether to go out into the party to find Josh to see if he could deal with this, but you knew he had a lot to deal with, especially since the pledges were fucking up their jobs - you could handle this. You had been that drunk before. You could help a drunk girl for once without anything happening. Though you had never been sober before while taking care of a drunk girl.

You found yourself lighting the joint once more as you lay back onto the couch, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling. This hadn’t been how you expected the night to go. Sure, you had ended parties with a girl in your bed before, but not like this, this was different. She was different.

[frostyyyroyalmilktea]

Nevermore student!Tyler x Thorpe!Reader

This is part 2 of my series. You can find part 1 here. Pt 3 here!

This story is also on ao3

Let me know what you think!

***

Your things arrive in the early afternoon that day and you know yourself well enough to be sure that if you don't deal with unpacking now, you certainly won't do it once the classes start and at some point in the near future your side of the room will turn into pure unmitigated chaos.

Of course to you, it won't be much different from how your room at home usually is at any given moment, but you're sharing space with someone else now and it seems disrespectful to let it get to that state. So you politely decline Bianca’s invitation to go see a movie with her and Yoko and get to work.

Unpacking clothes takes the most time but ultimately everything fits in the closet and there’s even some semblance of order to it. You’re not by any means an organized person so you don't expect it to last, but for now, a win is a win. Next are books and plushies that you put in an open bookcase near your table. Compared to Bianca's side, yours already looks a little spazzy. But you’re not too worried. She doesn't seem like a person who would judge you for that.

It's kind of interesting, actually. Tyler was right when he said she has a certain reputation in Nevermore. But just like with Xavier, when you start to get to know her, you realize she’s very different from the character she's trying to present to the world. Perhaps that's the reason they didn't work out. They were trying to build a relationship between their public personas, while the real people probably felt lonely and not seen.

You retrieve your laptop, a tangle of chargers, your portable speaker, and a few pairs of headphones from the last box, and then, finally, you move to unshackle your baby Yamaha from the layers of bubble wrap. You were initially reluctant to trust movers with it but at the end of the day, it weighed way too much for you to carry, and it was also rather chunky, especially compared to your not-particularly-imposing frame.

After thoroughly examining your synthesizer for any damage, and concluding that there is none to be found, you relax, plug it in, and start playing little bits and pieces of songs you like, as a warm-up

Music is something that never fails to bring you a little peace of mind. You’ve been playing piano since you were four and always liked to learn new songs from the artists you listened to. Sometimes you would learn something you know Xavi or your dad particularly enjoy.

But playing other people’s music, while very fun and enjoyable, is not the end goal. Your dream is to one day write your own music. You already do, as a matter of fact, but you’ve never played it for anyone.

You wonder what kind of music Tyler likes to listen to and as if on their own accord, your hands set the drum rhythm and you find yourself playing the intro to the Ghost Ship of Cannibal Rats. For all that he looks like a love interest in a Taylor Swift music video, you feel like Tyler prefers something alternative, more… gritty. You'll make sure to ask him the next time you see him.

You binge half a season of Brooklyn 9-9 and then head out on a journey to find a laundry room, where you meet a sweet little pumpkin named Eugene. He shows you how to operate the washing machines and makes a great pitch about his extracurricular club, but the only things you really know about bees is that they’re an important part of the ecosystem and a song from the Bee Movie soundtrack that you learned to torment Xavier over Christmas break a few years ago. But Eugene is so sweet and so enthusiastic about the whole thing that you don't find it in yourself to turn him down and promise to think about it.

Lunch rolls around you can’t say you’re particularly excited to face the public after Xavier’s dramatics this morning, but a girl has to eat so you women up and drag your ass downstairs.

Thankfully, the dining hall is a lot less crowded than it was at breakfast. Everyone's probably out in Jericho for the day. Bianca and her friends are nowhere to be seen. So is your brother. Unfortunately, so is Tyler.

That last one kinda puts you in a bit of a desolate mood.

You still grab a seat at the corner table and tuck into your chicken wrap. No one seems to pay you much attention aside from a few stray glances. But that's nothing new, both you and your brother aren’t exactly hard on the eyes.

You enjoy your lunch in relative peace until you notice someone staring. A familiar-looking blonde girl looks straight at you from the nearby table. When you meet her eyes, she waves at you enthusiastically. Very enthusiastically. It clicks why she looks familiar when you see who she's sitting with. It’s that little goth girl that got your brother all in his feels.

Oh, this should be interesting. You put on a smile you always use when doing publicity for your dad and wave back at her.

It’s all the encouragement she needs to leap to her feet and head to your table with her friend—who seems decidedly less enthusiastic about the entire affair—in tow.

"Hi! I'm Enid Sinclair. I just wanted to say I'm a huge fan and I'm so glad you're at Nevermore now, and I hope we can become friends."

People often accost you with similar intentions. Usually because of your father's fame, but recently you started gaining some following of your own as well.

Tiktok remains the only social media where your father's PR team can’t usurp control from you—because they're low-key a bunch of old farts and no one seems to understand how to operate it for publicity— so it’s the only social media you have on principle. You post song covers, film cool street buskers, and sometimes videos of you skateboarding. You amassed something around 100k followers which by TikTok standards isn’t really that impressive, but your views are consistent, so in your old school it attracted literally the worst type of people: clout chasers. Making friends became basically impossible. Because that's what you wanted. Friends. Not an entourage.

But this girl, you’re surprised to find, doesn’t seem like the type. She’s genuine in her excitement and just wants to be friends with someone she thinks is cool. It’s heartwarming and you don’t even notice when your publicity smile turns into a sincere one.

You extend your hand for a handshake. "Pleasure to meet you, Enid. And who’s the shadow of perpetual doom behind you?

"Wednesday. Wednesday Addams." She introduces herself, giving you a scrutinizing look. And wow, does she not blink?

Yeah, Xavier has no business giving you shit for your taste in boys when he’s in love with little miss American Psycho.

"Do you girls want to sit down? I'm not done with my lunch so you could keep me company if you want?"

"Sure!” Enid exclaims excitedly, already pulling a chair for herself.

Wednesday hesitates for a moment but ultimately takes a seat as well.

"Have you already decided what elective classes you're gonna-" starts Enid.

"How do you know Tyler Galpin?" Wednesday cuts her off. Which first, rude . And second, what does she care?

"I don't really. We met yesterday, when I arrived. He helped me haul my luggage to the top floor, "you reply between bites.

"You sat with him at breakfast."

Alrighty, you didn't realize it was an interrogation, but sure, why not?

"Well, I saw a familiar face, he was sitting there alone and he helped me out yesterday, so I thought why not." You try to keep your irritation at bay, but don’t completely succeed. Not that it makes any difference, because this girl clearly doesn’t like reading social cues.

"You don’t what he really is. He-"

"Right." You cut her off with an eye roll. "I heard that spiel already and I have eidetic memory so I don’t need an encore."

"The existence of eidetic memory is not proven by the psychiatric community," Wednesday says defiantly.

"It’s also not disproven, and since it relies heavily on the personal perception of an individual, there is no way to do either, really."

This puts you in a verbal stalemate of a sort and the atmosphere becomes quite heavy, but you just sip your tea nonperturbed.

Enid scrambles to change the subject.

"Have you heard Taylor Swift's new album already? Did you like it?"

You turn all your attention to her, clearly dismissing the previous topic of conversation. "Girl, you kidding? Of course, I did! It's brilliant, not that I expected anything less."

A muscle in Wednesday’s jaw twitches. Whether it’s because of the new topic or because you didn’t concede, you have no way of knowing.

"Ooooh," Enid squeals. "Do you plan on doing any covers? Your cover of No Body No Crime was sooo good, by the way. I got like actual chills."

"It was probably just the draft from the window you insist on keeping open at all times,” deadpans Wednesday.

"Yeah, to air out the smell of formaldehyde," Enid grumbles under her breath.

You have no idea what exactly your brother sees in Wednesday that makes him go yes, this is a perfect girl to be romantically interested in, and at this point, you’re getting more and more confident you don’t want to find out.

"You're so sweet, Enid. Thank you," you say. "I've actually really been vibin’ with Anti-Hero recently, so I'll probably do a cover soon."

Enid looks at Wednesday, then back at you, wheezing in delight. How can someone so small contain so much energy and enthusiasm you have no idea.

Wednesday seems a bit irritated, which given her general lack of emotional responses probably means that she’s in fact hella irritated. She clearly doesn't like to share her friend’s attention, so just to be petty you pull out your phone and ask: "Babes, what's your username? I'll follow you so we can be friends and send each other stuff. By the way, have you seen the new dance going around from this Netflix show? We could totally do a collab on that. I mean, I’m not much of a dancer myself, but it doesn't look too complicated."

Enid looks like she’s about to faint from trying not to shriek like a banshee in excitement. "It’s @ xoxoenid, your most reliable source for gossip in Nevermore."

Then she freezes in panic and as the page loads up on your phone, you see that she already made a few videos about you.

"I didn't say anything bad, I swear! But people were talking about why you and Xavier were arguing and why you were with Tyler… I can totally take it down if you want," she gets out hurriedly in one breath.

Wednesday, once again, looks peeved.

"It's cool, En. Don't worry about it. People gonna talk anyways I don't really care about that."

En, she mouths, looking a little starstruck.

You finish your lunch under Wednesday's scrutinizing glare while Enid talks a mile a minute, giving you a rundown on everyone's drama that you can't possibly follow because it's way too many new names at the same time.

When you're done, you make your goodbyes, wishing the two of them a great day. Or a terrible one, you add with a wide grin, looking at Wednesday. Whichever they’d prefer.

***

In the evening you make your way from Weems' office with a copy of your schedule and a signed referral from your therapist back home.

Most kids from Nevermore that go to therapy are referred to Dr. Kinnbot in Jericho but since your brother is already seeing her, it's unethical for her to see you too. So now you’re going to spend an hour and a half every Saturday driving to a bigger city to see a different therapist. From what Weems told you, he seems to be a good fit for you as he specializes in outcast psychology. But you’ll only know for sure after you’ve had a few sessions with him.

The way to get to Weems’ office from Persephone Hall is a bit complicated. You have to go down the stairs, exit the building, then walk around the building and re-enter it in a different wing. Of course, most people can just use the roof because it also has two exits, and this way you don’t need to go up and down the stairs a million times, which saves a lot of time. But most people aren’t dreadfully afraid of heights.

Well, you won’t be driving because you don’t have a license. You never really needed one back home and now some poor guy got stuck driving you because he’s also seeing the same doctor. Eh, at least he’ll have someone to chip in for gas. And both of you get an hour of free time in the city with an actual mall. Not to mention you have a dazzling personality, so come to think of it, he’s actually lucky to have you, all things considered.

When your powers manifested for the first time, you thought that it must be some kind of mockery from the universe. To give powers like that, to someone who has both acrophobia and aerophobia. Who could even come up with a joke that twisted?

You wrap yourself tighter in your winter coat against a gust of cold wind. You're almost by the main door when you see a cat. A chubby black cat with golden eyes that literally glow in the evening dark. He—you don’t actually know if he’s a he but you’re a native french speaker and calling animals it just doesn’t sit right with you—looks expectantly like he’s been waiting here for the longest time and you’re late and now he’s judging you for tardiness.

You come closer but as soon as do that, he turns around and proceeds to gracefully walk toward the creepy forest.

When you just stand there, dumbfounded, he turns around with a demanding meow and you really don’t feel like you have any other option than to follow him.

About fifteen minutes later, when you lose sight of that bossy cat and you don’t know where you are and can’t even locate the direction you came from, you think that this is just another joke at your expense from the universe. Your dad always says that one can not ignore the signs from the universe, as it is a path of lost opportunities. But right now, you feel like maybe you’re just illiterate and don’t read those signs correctly or something.

You hear the snow crunch behind you and then a snap, probably a twig. You turn around and see… well something.

You try not to panic and take out your phone to text your brother, even if it means a lecture and I told you so the size of the Jupiter. Ugh, you really don’t want to give his ego a boost of this proportion.

You've seen werewolves before and it looks a little bit like one, but at the same time, it doesn't. It looks more like someone tried to draw a werewolf from memory. The creature is bigger than a were but at the same time less proportional, its upper body longer and wider than the lower. Its face has more human traits than those of an animal, but something’s still a little off: its eyes and forehead are unproportionally big compared to the rest of the head.

You have no idea what the fuck it is you’re looking at and whether it's dangerous. A rule of thumb with anything of that size is usually to avoid at all cost. But it’s probably a little too late for that.

It's not attacking, but then again, you're just standing there not moving. If you run, there's a good chance it'll trigger its predator instinct. And there’s no way you can outrun it.

So you just stay where you are. Looking at it. And it also stays where it is. Looking at you.

You can't tell how sentient it is but it seems like it's thinking about something. Hopefully not about late dinner.

Its eyes, you notice, have a reddish tint to them and you think that should creep you out but for some reason it makes you think of pomegranates of all things.

The woods are very quiet. The only sounds you can really make out are its breathing and your own.

An absurd thought pops into your head then. The acoustics here must be great. You remember your vocal mentor, Ms. Welch, telling you that to really perfect acapella, you need to practice in open spaces.

And in what can only be a bout of temporary insanity, that's what you decide to do. Sing.

You take a deep breath not yet knowing what exactly it's going to be, but surprisingly, the words find you easily enough, and from then on, the whole thing just feels like an out-of-body experience.

“I've heard there was a secret chord”

The beast looks taken aback by you breaking this unspoken staring game.

“That David played, and it pleased the Lord”

It looks confused at first, then curious. Doesn't look like it’s gonna tear you to pieces at least, so you let your voice pick up a little volume.

“But you don't really care for music, do you?

It goes like this

The fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing Hallelujah”

The creature makes the tiniest move forward as if chasing your voice.

It startles you and, instinctively, you pull back and the creature immediately mirrors you, looking as if it's scared of scaring you. Scared that you'll stop singing.

You go through the chorus with a shaky voice, but it looks like whatever this thing is, it doesn't want to attack you, so your voice evens out and the next verse sounds way steadier.

"Your faith was strong but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you"

Maybe the irony of singing that line to a mesmerized creature in the moonlight wouldn't be lost on you if all your thinking capabilities weren't paralyzed by primal fear, but alas.

As to why you do what you do next, you honestly have no fucking idea. Maybe you’re more fucked in the head than people give you credit for. Like, way more.

“She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne, she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah”

You take a step forward.

“Hallelujah”

Then another one.

“Hallelujah”

And one more.

“Hallelujah”

There is maybe a foot separating the two of you at best.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, you can hear a distant howl of your self-preservation instincts.

But the thing is.

You’re as mesmerized by this creature as it is by you.

It just seemed so sentient, its eyes so… intent.

And the closer you get to it, the more your fear dissipates.

And not only the immediate one, but the old and rusty one too, that felt like it was following you for months. Since the day your powers awakened, you realize suddenly.

“Maybe I've been here before

I know this room, I've walked this floor

I used to live alone before I knew you

I've seen your flag on the marble arch

Love is not a victory march

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”

“Hallelujah”

The creature gets on four paws before you.

“Hallelujah”

Takes a deep breath.

“Hallelujah”

Then another one.

“Hallelujah”

And then it lies down at your feet.

You're so shocked you think you might’ve messed up the order of the verses.

“Maybe there's a God above

And all I ever learned from love

Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you”

You crouch in front of it and carefully extend your hand towards its… face?

“It's not a cry you can hear at night

It's not somebody who's seen the light

It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”

“Hallelujah”

Your first touch is feather-like, but when you're sure it doesn't want to bite your hand off, you gently stroke the top of its head.

“Hallelujah”

It closes its eyes and puts its head on its front paws.

“Hallelujah”

The forest is quiet once again and you look at the creature's calm form, just lying there like a big tired doggo.

Its skin starts to shift and bones start to rearrange themselves as you're watching the creature take a distinctly human shape. It takes you a good half a minute after it's done to realize that you know this human.

Shit.

***

Tyler

His consciousness returns slowly, all senses a bit muffled still. He’s in the forest, it’s dark and he doesn’t remember how he got here. Fuck.

After Thornhill's death, it feels like he lost all the control he had over the Hyde.

You've never had any control, he reminds himself sharply.

He takes a deep breath, recalling what his new therapist told him. You need to learn to reign in the Hyde on your terms, Tyler, not relearn what was forced on you. It will take time and patience. Be kind to yourself. Yeah, right.

“Umm, Tyler? You alright, dude?”

What?

“Oh shit, you’re like, butt-ass naked, oh my goodness.”

He opens his eyes and sees someone—presumably the owner of the voice—hastily pulling off a winter coat.

A girl?

She turns to look at him for only a second as she throws her coat in his direction and then turns her back to him once again.

Oh shit. He knows this face pretty well. He was shamelessly staring at it all morning.

“I swear I didn’t see anything and if I did I honestly can’t do anything about it because of my eidetic memory, but I promise I will never-” she starts rambling so fast he can barely understand what she’s saying.

“Y/n,” he asks, voice still hoarse. “Please stop talking.”

“Oh,” she pauses, “Sure sure sure, yeah. No problemo. Can totally do that, yeah.”

He gets up slowly and picks up the coat from the ground. He’s covered in dirt and the coat he picks up is light pink so he’ll probably mess it up, but he can’t just walk home naked like he did all those times before because he’s not alone now. Create new patterns for the Hyde to follow, Dr. Shin’s voice echoes in his head. Tyler doubts that’s what he meant when he said it, but whatever.

The coat thankfully is long enough to reach his knees, so he zips it up and tells y/n’s back: “Okay, I’m decent.”

She stops pacing and in mere seconds she’s in front of him, taking his face in her hands, presumably to check for any injuries. Her hands are warm and gentle and he can’t find anything to say, too shocked not only that she didn’t run but that her first concern is whether he is alright.

“You’re a bit dirty, but I don’t see any injuries, so I think you’ll live.” She carefully takes her hands off his face and awkwardly shoves them into the pockets of her jeans, like she doesn’t know where else to put ‘em.

“What happened? What are you doing here?” When he came to he was scared half to death he might’ve hurt her, but she seems unharmed and—what’s more baffling—unafraid, so now he’s just straight up confused.

“I was walking from Weems’ office and there was this cat- Wait a sec, you don’t remember what happened when you were all…” she imitates the claws with her hand, “rawr?”

“No.” Not anymore, not after Thornhill’s death. The thought that one of these days he might wake up in someone’s blood terrifies him.

“Oh.”

“What did you- How did you make me shift back?” Dr. Shin says he needs a point of contact with his human side that he can rely on to pull him out from the shift, but where the fuck is he supposed to find it if everyone he knows looks at him like he’s a ticking time bomb even when he’s perfectly human-looking.

“Ummm, I sang you Rufus Wainwright’s rendition of Hallelujah?” She says like she almost can’t believe it herself.

Tyler certainly can’t.

“You…sang to me?”

“Yeah, Rufus Wright’s rendition of Hallelujah, the one from Shrek, keep up, dude.”

He takes a breath to say something but the words do not come. He has no idea what to even say to that.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” She asks. “Cuz I kinda followed a cat here, so I don’t really know which way I came from.”

“Uhhh yeah, we need to keep to the northwest,” Tyler replies dumbly.

She looks at him unimpressed, “Babe, do I like a fucking girl scout to you? I don’t know what that means.”

And maybe it’s such a brazen use of that word that does it, or it’s that he’s only about 50% sure this is not some weird dream he’s having after eating too much sugar before bed, but he just grabs her hand and silently starts walking towards the dorms.

If she’s surprised by this turn of events, she doesn't show it, just goes with it like it’s the most normal thing on earth.

After a few minutes, she wrangles her hand so that their fingers intertwine and they’re like actually holding hands. Tyler feels his face heat up and hopes desperately that it won’t be visible in this cold.

“Could you slow down a bit please,” she asks, slightly out of breath. “I can’t keep up with you and if I keep breathing in cold air like an old asthmatic dog, I’ll get pneumonia.”

“I’m sorry,” Tyler says, slowing down a little.

They walk in silence for a while and Tyler expects her to start firing questions any second now but they can already see the outline of the main building in the distance and she still hasn’t asked.

“It’s called a Hyde. That thing you saw. No one knows for sure if I will ever be able to control it.”

“Hm,” she says thoughtfully, “You seemed pretty in control to me.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Like, when you were listening to me. It seemed like you didn’t want to scare me and one time you did, you backed off immediately.”

They keep walking, silent again.

When they reach the side of the main building, Tyler stops, letting go of her hand. “We’re here.”

“Cool, thanks for walking me back,” she says, smiling at him like it was just a cute little walk in the park.

He can’t take not understanding it.

“Why aren’t you freaked out?” He asks desperately. Something in him twists painfully like she just doesn’t understand. Like he’s deceiving her somehow, and he just needs to explain that he is a monster, he is dangerous, and then she’ll run from him like she’s supposed to. Like everyone else does.

But she doesn’t. She looks up at him curiously, and in the moonlight, her eyes seem so dark, so captivating, that he kind of forgets what was it he was asking her.

“You didn’t hurt me, didn’t even try to. That’s all I really need to know, Tyler.” She says calmly.

He just looks at her, not able to tear his eyes—or form a cohesive thought.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast. Save me a sit?” she asks softly like there’s some real possibility someone except her will want to sit with the local machiavellian monster.

“Sure,” is all he can really manage.

“Cool.” She says, then gets on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “Goodnight, Tyler.”

His cognitive functions decide to leave him at that moment so he doesn’t say anything, just stands there like one of the statues from Easter Island and watches her sneak into the dorm’s building.

***

Author’s note:  I hope characterization doesn't seem inconsistent, I'm just trying to highlight that how other characters see MC is not exactly how she really is. She presents a more collected picture that what's actually going on in her brain. I was a bit worried I overdid it in the forest scene, but in the end I decided that Tyler is too flustered himself to pick up on her little tells that she's freaking out, and after seeing him naked she's totally freaking out lol

[leighrobertsreads]

El sol es nuestro reloj

@flashfictionfridayofficial 264: Counting Clocks

“The sun is our clock”

Fandom: Encanto (2021) Characters: Juancho (the Coffee Kid), Bruno Madrigal, Mirabel Madrigal Relationship: Bruno/Mirabel (engaged) Word count: 640 Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57882766

Author’s note: school running through eighth grade for all children in the Encanto is my personal headcanon. It would have been amazingly egalitarian for early 20th century Colombia, where the vast majority of the population didn’t get to go to school past fifth grade, and certainly not with the children of the leading family in town: https://justinhauver.com/a-brief-history-of-education-in-colombia/

Aside from treasured pocket watches, many of which had ceased to move decades ago, there were very few clocks in the Valle del Encanto. The large one on the plaza bell tower was decorative, though the foreigner who came to the village last year and was designing an organ for the church claimed he might be able to build a clockwork for it. Unlike the spinning mill that was started as soon as they were lucky enough for a textile mill engineer to seek refuge in their valley, a lack of clocks was not a priority to remedy.

Instead, they could just look at where the sun was in the sky, or the sundials around town if they were newcomers who hadn't learned how to read the sky yet.

As every little Encanteño learned in school (which every little Encanteño was welcome to attend through age fourteen, to the initial wonder of many of their parents), the Equator ran through the southern part of Colombia. In their valley in the northwest part of the country, six degrees north of the Equator, on both the shortest days from día de las velitas through la epifanía (11 hours, 45 minutes) and the longest around fiesta de San Juan (12 hours, 30 minutes), the sun would rise at 6 in the morning and set at 6 in the evening, and it was prudent to take a siesta from 1 to 3 in the afternoon.

A few minutes one way or the other were not worth quibbling over in a place without the trains the Forty-Sixers and some of the Fifteeners had talked about.

Juancho found it grossly unfair that he was expected to sit still and pay attention on school days for ten more minutes in June than in December without coffee. Like all the other children in town, Señorita Mirabel had been one of his favorite grown-ups... until she taught Señor Madrigal to check his bag for a bottle before class.

When he complained to Señor Madrigal about this injustice one day after class, his Latin and religion teacher shrugged and replied, "she doesn't let me have more than the one at breakfast, either, no matter what time of year."

"Jorge says you're under the thumb." It was apparently true.

Señor Madrigal's face reddened, and he stuffed everyone's papers into a heavily-decorated bag. "Gotta go, running late for a very important appointment!"

Juancho looked out the window. Señorita Mirabel was approaching with the same look on her face that she had when she took the class for their turns to work in the wool carding shed, something that she enjoyed a lot more than most of them did.

He would have felt sorry for Señor Madrigal, but Jorge also said that he liked being under the thumb. Some of the other older boys snickered, but then Rodrigo said something about preferring to be under some other part of Señorita Mirabel, and got Jorge's fist in his face.

Fun at Señor Madrigal's expense was one thing, but it was never the right time to insult Señorita Mirabel.

"It's time to go to Señor Ruiz's!" she announced as she entered the schoolroom, then ruffled Juancho's hair.

"Ooooh, you're getting reading glasses like my Abuela did last year!"

Señor Madrigal put his face in his hands.

"Time marches on for us all,” Señorita Mirabel said, putting a hand on his shoulder after glancing out the door for some reason.

"But it beats the alternative,” Señor Madrigal replied, laying a hand over hers and smiling the way Juancho's papá did at his mamá when it was definitely time for Juancho to find somewhere else to be.

Feeling daring as he dashed out to get that coffee he'd been craving, he asked a question sure to score him points with Jorge and the gang:

“When’s the wedding?”

[baileys-3]

NEW CHAPTER ONLINE on AO3 - Chapter 13

Sneak Peak after the link

Due to some unforeseen events, one evening when they don’t see each other suddenly turns into three.

The next day, Lucy spends the evening with her Aunt Amy and Tamara as planned. Whenever she visits, they enjoy cooking traditional dishes from their homeland together. It always makes Lucy feel connected to her roots, and she loves cooking with her aunt. Since Tamara has been living with her, she has also caught the cooking bug on these evenings. And the three of them always have a lot of fun chopping, preparing, frying, and everything else that goes with it. The evening is usually the highlight of the month for her; this time, though, she has to make an effort to enjoy it, and she really does try. But she can't help but think about Tim and how much she misses him. The butterflies in her stomach keep fluttering just at the thought of him.

She's only seen him briefly several times at the station today since they're both trying to keep extra distance from each other during work hours so that no one gets the idea that something could be going on. And that doesn't make it any easier to carve out time to talk while on the clock. They do share some glances, though.

And a hell of a lot of messages. By Tim's standards, he has always been very modest when it comes to texting or generally making social contact on their phones. She receives the first message shortly after six in the morning. She sees it after her alarm has gone off. She disappears into the bathroom for a moment and then switches on her phone, yawning while she reads the message.

Tim: Don't forget my coffee and donuts ☕️🍩😏

He even used emojis. Which probably took him a few minutes to find in the first place. Because Tim isn't the emoji -using type.

They write several messages back and forth until she enters the locker room at the station and then puts her phone away. They see each other briefly at roll call, where she learns that the two men arrested had nothing to do with the dead body in the rented car. However, some weapons and a lot of extremist material were found in the house, so both will probably spend a long time behind bars. The search for the perpetrator continues, and more background interviews are scheduled for the day. But thankfully, these only last until lunchtime. After that, she can go back on patrol as usual.

In the meantime, Tim is called to a few locations as a supervisor but never to one where Lucy is. Their lunch times don't synch up either, so they don't see each other at the food trucks. But that doesn't stop Tim from exchanging several messages with Lucy during lunch with Aaron, which earns him one or more sideway glances from his go-fer. Not that Aaron knows who he's texting with, but he can see that he's not just checking his results and statistics app. Because he types too much for that. At least Aaron knows when to keep quiet and doesn't ask any more questions.

The afternoon is pretty uneventful. Lucy is called out on several small calls, which consist more of assistance than actual police work. Assistance is still an essential part of police work, and it's also one that she always particularly enjoys. The afternoon ends up being pretty quiet. So when she gets back to the station, Lucy sends a text to Tim…

Lucy: Going to have a shower, and then I’m heading home. Is there a chance we can meet?

His reply comes almost immediately.

Tim: Just got back to the station. I've got some paperwork to do. Text me when you're done. We can meet in the garage at your car.

Half an hour later, she arrives at the underground garage, freshly showered, only to find Tim, still in uniform, leaning against her car. As she comes close enough, he pulls her around the corner and behind a small post that she didn't even know existed until now. Then he pushes her against the wall and kisses her passionately until she gets dizzy. Tim seems to have some weakness in pushing her against walls, which suits her. Because she clearly has a weakness for being pushed against walls by Tim. They don't have much time because they are still in the LAPD underground parking lot, and someone could walk by at any moment, even if they are somewhat concealed. Their few minutes consist of kissing and whispering snippets of conversation so that nobody who walks by hears them. Lucy has to admit that she gets a little adrenaline rush from this private meeting and realizes for the first time what it means to date in secret. She finds it exciting that their relationship is a secret between them, something that only belongs to the two of them.