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sio-writes · 2 years ago

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Botanist's Guide - Chapter 12

<<Chapter 11 (NSFW)

<<< Chapter 1

Summary: Cassandra Rowland, PhD, finally has the chance to work on an experiment that really matters: growing Earth crops on another planet. Too many overdue reports and marked failures have put her in hot water with the board, and this is her last chance at redemption. So when she finds herself railroaded by a seven foot tall, glowing alien named Kri, it won’t be as easy as sticking some seeds in the soil and running them under the tap. Tack on the looming repossession of her lab contingent on her success in Kri’s reports, and Cassie realizes she may have her work cut out for her.

Looking into the microscope I see exactly what I should be seeing: The box-like cell structure of a plant, no different than one I'd see on Earth. It's sage, so crushing it between the slides released it's earthy aroma, and now my whole station smells like the greenhouse, but that's not a complaint.

Mutations are non-existent, cell walls look good, chlorophyll is bright green. I check off the Salvia officinalis box on my laptop as well as transfer any notes from my head to the computer, and then I pick up the next slide.

Lactuca Satvia, iceberg lettuce, also looks like every slide I've made. No mutations, it's bright green that fades into a white at the stalk, and if it weren't currently doing a job for science, I'd definitely add it to a salad. I note it down right next to the sage, humming something off-key as I do. Maybe I'll grab a salad for lunch.

There's only a few more slides to go through, I'm making great time today. My mp3 player crapped out on me, a victim of getting slammed against the wall the other day. I have a little funeral planned, which just consists of putting her into the garbage cube-maker thing. If I had funeral music to play I would, but…well.

It's absence has left the lab deathly silent, but I think my coworkers are thankful for it. At least, no one's said otherwise. The change in pace has kept me focused, a good thing for today with so much technical work to get done. Staying on task is my number one priority.

And Jillie won't stop staring at me.

All day now, she's been throwing me glances, flat out staring me down, she even sent a paper note over. I've been pointedly ignoring her in favor of digging into my work, with huge success on my end. I'm apparently very good at my job when I'm avoiding something else.

I'd tried the silent treatment when the door first opened-- two hours later!-- but once she started crying I felt too bad to keep up the charade. Then she'd shoved these nasty granola bars and an ice-cold water in my face, and I ate only to appease her and not because I'd skipped dinner to head back to the lab in the first place. Besides, a few minutes of pretending to be mad told her what I needed it to, and it was about all I could handle anyway. She's my friend, I can't be mad at her for trying to hook me up. But I can pretend to withhold the information to torture her for a few days. Just a little.

The first day back had been the worst of her prying. Kri had decided to keep up his schedule of only showing up once a week, giving her permission to blabber away.

"So. Is it big?"

"Hand me the pipettes, please."

"Aw come on! At least tell me if he was good!"

"Pipettes. Please."

But Kri is here today, thank god, so her barrage of questions has stopped for now.

Eventually I will share, because I want to, but Kri and I didn't actually talk about anything. He didn't wake me up after ten minutes like I'd asked him to, instead the shrill metal of the door sliding open is what woke me up. And then Jillie rushed in with her terrible food, and we all went home. It felt particularly anti-climactic compared to the heated confession and fucking.

Part of me is hopeful, but it's nearly drowned out by the cynic in me. Until we parted ways, Kri kept constant contact with me-- a steadying hand on my back, an arm around my waist, and once, for a glorious moment as Jillie walked out ahead of us, he interlaced our hands together and squeezed my fingers. I think my heart actually leapt into my throat, and then he was walking away without a goodbye.

It's left this…whatever we have going, undefined and hazy. We exchanged pleasantries this morning, but that was all, and it's been nothing but work since. I'm not picking up any anger or malice, but it's also awkward as hell, especially with an extra set of blue eyes watching my every move. "Ignore us Jill, but hey Kri, remember when we fucked? That was great, wanna do it again? On a regular basis?"

It's not like I can call or text him, I don't have a phone that connects to Summanus' sat-system. Just the chunky brick they gave at landing that connects to the handful of satellites we ground out of the military's original plan. I don't know where Kri lives, either, and they don't have any kind of directory in English. But it's not like Kri's made any moves either, and he actually knows where I live.

I sigh through my nose as I prep the next set of slides. Maybe I'm making excuses, flimsy reasons to keep this going as a casual thing instead of what I'd hoped it would be, what I want it to be. But we need to talk, hands down. Because not knowing is driving me crazy.

Stealing a glance at Kri is easy, just pretend to hold the slide to the light. I simultaneously want to catch his attention as well as have him keep ignoring me so I can keep staring like a creep. There's things I hadn't picked up on before, small details. The line of his shoulders, the angles of his wings. He's still so pretty under the lights with the flecks of opalescent color in his plating, but it feels like I'm seeing him in an entirely new light. Has something in my brain switched?

The cosmos grants me a favor when Jillie walks to the bathroom. Immediately, I step away from my desk and towards Kri.

"Hey," I say.

I probably should've thought of something to say.

"Hello," he says, resting his hands on his lap and giving me his full attention. "Is everything alright?"

I fidget with my coat, trying not to remember how it felt to take off for him. "Can we--Can we talk?"

He glances sideways at the bathroom door, then back to me. "Right now?"

I've come to realize that Kri isn't cagey like I once thought, he's just intensely private. He doesn't broadcast things, doesn't offer information like I do, isn't loud or boisterous. He flies under the radar a lot, and I think it's on purpose.

"Later," I assure him. "Later-- um, do you wanna-- I mean, would you mind, maybe--"

As I talk and fidget, Kri stands from his chair and steps up to me. He grabs my face gently between two hands, and tilts my head up to his, both thumbs tracing lines over my cheeks.

"Would you like to talk over dinner?"

"That's a--" I clear my throat, and Kri's eyes crinkle as he smiles. "Sounds great."

His fingers are soft and warm, thumbs tracing over my cheek again, and his gaze falls to my lips.

Nothing's been set in stone, but this, and the reminder of everything else, makes me want something solid. Something real, tangible.

I've tried to think about what I want to say, but I've never been good at stringing words together. I'm more a woman of action than speaking, I'd rather just push Kri against the desk and kiss him until my lips bleed.

We lean closer together, almost kissing, until the sound of a soft 'ahem' makes us jump apart, and we both turn to the source of the noise. In the doorway, Jillie has the biggest, shit-eating grin on her face.

My jaw works on several starting noises, but none make their way out. I wind up looking like a fish.

She holds up her hands, placating. "Hey don't let me interrupt." And sits back at the countertop as if nothing happened.

Heat rises to my cheeks, even more so when I hear Kri softly chuckle behind me as he steps back to sit down. I grumble back to my desk, and Jillie's pointed looks burns a hole through my spine. But we work through the next thirty minutes without issue. It's boring as shit, and the tension in the air makes my leg bounce up and down.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, I'm ready to burst. I'm going to explode.

"I'm holding a funeral for Emmie."

The two of them look to me, but their expressions couldn't be further apart. Kri looks shocked, genuinely concerned that I have a deceased friend, and Jillie's look is flat, very much done with my shit.

"Your mp3 player, really Cass?"

Kri's expression resolves into understanding, and then falls to match Jillie's. "Hardly grounds for a funeral."

I chew on my bottom lip and stare at the floor. "Yeah the, uh, the screen cracked." I pull Emmie out of my back pocket, where she usually lives, and display her in my cupped palms like a baby bird. Behind Jillie, Kri sucks in a breath, but says nothing. Jillie either doesn't notice or doesn't care, because she scoffs, smiling.

"You're so dramatic."

I pocket Emmie again, my brows pinching in mock-offense. "She was a member of this family!"

"It was outdated before your grandparents were born!"

"She was reliable," I hold my hand to my heart, and wipe away a tear. "Three thousand songs, no internet required. Now I have to find something else."

"God forbid you talk to us instead."

I hold my sordid expression. "No one here understands me."

"You listen to your sad music too much, hun."

"It is rather whiny," Kri chimes in, and I shoot him a dirty look over Jillie's shoulder. He shrugs.

"You're both bullies, I'm putting in for a transfer," I say very mildly as I grab the next slides.

"Good," Jillie sniffs. "You can smooch it up in someone else's lab."

As slowly and dramatically as possible, I turn to her. "I'm sorry, who stuck us in a room for three hours?"

"Two, you drama queen."

"At least Kri likes me," I say and Jillie shoves my shoulder.

"One of us has to."

Our shoulders shake as we hold back laughter, and for the first time all day, I feel light. Like a seal has been broken and released all the pressure in the room.

Jillie doesn't stare at me anymore, instead she focuses her efforts on the experiment, and even hums a few songs to break up the silence. We hit a flow again, something that's been sorely lacking the past few weeks, and zoom through the required tests. Despite the crushing quiet, it's been nice to sink into a routine that we both know, stepping around each other like a dance.

I keep my eye-contact down to a minimum, because my thoughts will scatter to the wind again. And it's hard enough reigning them in even when I'm focusing on my work. Looking at Kri only makes me think of the other day, and then what may happen later. It opens up a question that I desperately need an answer to, but won't get until later. But I need it now, and the anxiety of not knowing is ramping up my anxiety to a twelve.

We all break for lunch, the three of us walking to the cafeteria. Jillie and I snag a booth with our food, and Kri splits off. I look around to see if I can find him in the mess that is the food prep stations, but I don't see him. He chose to eat by himself those first few days, a habit that carried over even when Jillie was out sick, but I wish he'd sit with us now.

Turning back to the booth, I accidentally make eye-contact with Jillie. The flame of curiosity is back in her eyes, and I shrink down in my seat. I suppose it's time to end her suffering.

"This is killing me," she says. "Are you guys a thing now?"

She looks so excited, so hungry to hear about everything. I push out a sigh. "I have no idea. We didn't talk about it."

Leaning back, Jillie's face falls into an impressed expression, and I fail to suppress a responding smile. Jillie slaps her palms on the table and barks out a laugh. "I knew it!"

"Shush!" I hiss, reaching over as if the motion would quiet her. "Not so loud."

Jillie's eyes are glittering as she reaches for my hands across the table. "You have to tell me everything."

In as many words, I try to surmise the evening, from the fight to falling asleep, with Jillie interjecting with questions every now and then. Some details I keep to myself, I'm allowed some secrets, but Jillie's my best friend. We try to eat in between, but eventually wind up setting down our food to focus on conversation.

I finish with her opening the door, and she squeezes my hands. "So where should I disinfect? The countertop? The floor? The shower in the bathroom?"

"He held me against the wall," I say, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Ooh, standing?"

I shake my head, and her look of realization is priceless.

"You have to tell me how big he is."

I groan to the ceiling. "I wish I knew. I couldn't see it."

"Then you gotta look again, hun!"

Leaning back, I grab my water bottle and take a swig. "He did invite me to dinner."

Jillie nods sagely. "You're definitely gonna get some tonight, then."

I open the wrapper for my salad and mull it over as I pour the dressing on. "I don't know if I want to. At least not tonight. I was hoping we'd talk instead."

"Talk?"

I nod. "We didn't do much talking-- shut up-- so now I don't know what this is. Friends-with-benefits? Something serious? And what do I even want? What does he want from me? What is he--"

"Cass, calm down. Nothing's happened yet."

"That's the problem! I don't know what's going on."

Jillie scrunches her face, her head falling to one side. "Then ask him?"

I plop my cheek into my palm, squishing my face on one side. "Not like we've had time."

Jillie offers me a sympathetic look. "Maybe you need to be more upfront. Instead of making out while I'm in the bathroom, you have a little chit-chat. I can disappear for a while."

"We already agreed on dinner," I say, smiling.

"You sure?" She raises her eyebrows. "You just say the word, and I'm gone for fifteen to twenty minutes."

I shake my head again, filled with warmth that she's so insistent. I am anxious about it, but things can wait. It's not worth putting the experiment on hold for. Besides, the lab is hardly a romantic setting to have a serious conversation.

With a deciding nod, Jillie starts to clean her space, and I'm short to follow behind. The rest of the day runs as planned, no interruptions. Jillie stays in her seat, and I'm not thrown into a panic.

I'm actually looking forward to dinner with Kri. The restaurants here are okay, and there's even a few with that warm, low, romantic lighting that's perfect for dates. And honestly, I'm more excited to spend time with Kri. A small, girlish part of me wants to go home to freshen up, make myself look nice instead of the lab rat I must resemble.

All three of us head out of the building, Jillie heading west, Kri and I heading south. The restaurants are all in the northern quadrant by the Capitalism District, there's none in this direction. The only thing this way is housing.

I fake nonchalance as we walk. "So, where're we headed?"

"The…" he trails off, frowning and speaking slowly like he's testing out the words. "Food storage facility."

I raise an eyebrow. "The grocery store?"

He looks down at me, concerned. "Is that okay?"

The grocery store is closer to a MiniMart or a gas station. A handful of isles of instant meals, comfort foods, and frozen produce shipped from Earth. But there's also the ento-run store to the east with more selection. It's open to the public, but everything is labeled in Universal, and I have no idea what's good or not, so I've been too intimidated to go on my own. "Which store?" I ask.

"The eastern building, I just need to pick up a few items."

I feel my stomach grumble. "And food after?"

"I was hoping to cook for you," he says, wings fluttering. "If that's alright."

I haven't had anyone cook for me since I visited my parents. Warmth settles in me, not quite arousal, but something else, something heavier. Kri wants to cook for me.

"That'd be awesome."

The walk to the grocery store runs through another block of buildings, all of them painted in subdued, warm tones. They're all short, maybe three stories at the tallest, and the terrain reminds me of a seaside strip mall-- laid brick and cobblestone. I've only ever been to this side once on a tour, this is where it turns into culture and arts.

The store is nestled at the bottom floor of a deep red building, a carved out space that may have once been a multi-vehicle garage. Inside are several rows of foodstuffs, some packaged, some open. There's an assortment of fruits that I have no idea the names of as well as what look like a few rows of packaged instant ramen. Some things are universal, I suppose.

The store is empty, so it's just the two of us looking through the isles. I wander the isles while Kri picks up several fruits. He grabs a plum-sized blue seed, a handful of bean pods the size of my finger, and two green vegetables that look like potatoes. I'm examining the isle of drinks, wondering what tastes like what, when Kri grabs my attention.

"Would you prefer sweet, or savory?" He holds up two nearly identical looking spheres that look like dark red coconuts. I walk up and pretend to inspect them, humming as I think. I have no idea what he's doing, but I appreciate that he's including me.

"What do you like?" I ask.

"It's your decision."

I blink at him. "But I don't know what you're cooking. What's easier for you?"

Kri regards me, head tilted, and puts the coconut in his left hand back on the pile. He doesn't say anything, remaining silent as he grabs several other things, all the while catching glimpses of me as he does. I sidle up to him as the cashier bags his stuff.

"What'd ya go with?"

The cashier extends one long arm and hands Kri his things, and Kri quickly closes the bag so I can't see inside. "You'll have to find out."

I balk. "No fair!"

He smirks at me sidelong. "You insisted it was my decision."

"But I need to know the results."

"You will."

***

Kri’s apartment isn’t far from the store. I have to wrestle one of the grocery bags out of his grubby hands so I can I carry it and feel useful as we wind around buildings and cross a few streets. We walk quietly, not quite awkward enough for my reflexive talking to kick in, but I feel the need to fill the space simmering under my skin.

I want to say something. I should probably say something. It's only fair, and would help my anxiety so much more than waiting.

We wait in the elevator to his floor and I need to say something. We're approaching his place and I need to speak up, but I say silent.

It's too much, it would break this easy flow. The timing isn't right and god damn it, we're already at his door.

Stepping through the doorway feels simultaneously like jumping off a cliff and nothing at all. I'm aware of how huge this feels, my stomach lurches and my hands go clammy, but I'm also aware of the world continuing to turn around me. This doesn't feel real, but I want to grab at it with both hands and take it before it disappears.

Kri flicks the lights on, and I don't know what I expected, but a mirror of my own place wasn't it. This building is supposed to have the nicer layouts, with actual bedrooms instead of a studio layout. It's not surprising though, us Earth scientists are about as creative as socks for Christmas when it comes to designing buildings. I hope Kri isn't paying extra.

Everything is scaled up for someone of Kri's size, and there's a massive cloth hammock where the bed should be that's piled high with pillows. Along the living room wall on the right are shelves of books, interspersed with plants of various sizes that hang down almost to the floor. To the left of the sliding glass door to the balcony is another bookshelf, with a screen and speakers, and the light reflects off several picture frames that flick through a few photos.

Giving in to my base urge to be nosy, I set my bag on the kitchen counter and wander over to the television set. Under the coffee table is an ornate looking rug that's definitely too expensive for my apartment, and I try to tip-toe around it to avoid leaving any dirt, when something catches my eye.

In the corner, on a bottom shelf, is a taxidermied rat on a tiny skateboard. It's in the middle of popping an ollie, sitting in the center of some kind of ceramic crown of Summanian flowers. The frame above it swipes to a new photo, and in my peripheral I see Kri

My anxiety flares, and I turn away from the shelf of picture frames and other memories. Focusing my attention on something else is all I can do not to feel like a trespasser here, and I wander to the kitchen where Kri is grabbing several items from the fridge. The feeling of inadequacy swells, gelatinous and without form, and I try to push it down. It squishes between the bars of my mind, an imprint reflected back at me that tells me I’m not welcome here.

Instead, I step up to Kri and wrap my arms over his waist. The chitinous plating covering his body draws lines over his form that lead my fingers to his front, and I lean into his frame. Even bent over, my arms are level with his waist, and when he straightens, it pushes my face into his wings. Their whole structure is split into two sets, the bottom that folds open like a fan, and the top shaped like a dragonfly’s wing. They’re cool under my cheek, catching the light and shimmering.

“Yes?” He asks, two hands coming to pat mine.

I sigh heavily against his back, trying to sort my thoughts and coming up short. Taking my silence for an answer, Kri turns in my arms and cups my face in his lower hands.

“Am I not paying you enough attention?” He teases gently, running a free hand over my head. “Because I’m trying to provide you with a meal.”

Shame wells up behind my anxiety, hot and present, and I puff my cheeks and stare at a spot on his shoulder. I know talking is the right choice here, but my head is too much of a mess to talk about anything.

Ignoring the swirling feelings in my gut, I push up on the balls of my feet and press our lips together. He hums, a surprised note deep in his throat, as the hands gently cupping my cheeks firmly hold me and he pushes back. It’s a different kiss than the first one, softer, sweeter, holding promise. He’s slow to lick in my mouth, but it adds heat that reminds me of the passion of last week. He can pick me up and set me against the wall, can hold me with two arms and work me over with the other two.

I push my tongue into his mouth, wanting to make up for the interrupted kiss earlier today. My lips slot against his and he hums another satisfied note as he skims his tongue against mine and starts exploring my mouth.

I want more of this, I want this all the time. I can’t imagine giving up the way he slots so perfectly against me, like a puzzle piece I didn’t realize I was missing.

Kri pulls away from my mouth with a pained sound, but I can hear the smile in his voice. "I thought you wanted to talk first."

I lean into him and push my lip out in a pout. "Changed my mind."

And then he smiles against my lips and pushes forward again. It's so easy to give in, like falling into a soft bed. I'm surrounded by comfort and warmth.

Taking the lead, Kri steps me over to the counter and, without breaking the kiss, picks me up by the waist and lifts me onto the countertop. The ease that he picks me up makes me feel hot, and I moan softly against his lips before Kri pulls away.

"What would you like to--"

"Anything you want," I breathe. "What do you want?"

Kri laughs, low and dangerous. "From you? Everything."

He leans forward to kiss me again, but the silence of the room makes my growling stomach practically echo against the walls, and Kri's hands stop halfway to my chest.

"You need to eat," he says, smiling.

With that, he straightens, hands smoothing down my hair, and turns away from me and back into the kitchen.

"What would you like to drink? I have water, and I'm quite fond of Earth's orange juice."

I snicker. "Orange juice is actually more of a breakfast drink."

Kri presses his lips together and looks away, wings fluttering. "I also have lifrit juice, and wegol soda."

I hop down from the countertop and walk around the island to a stool. It's tall enough that when I sit, my legs swing freely. It's been a long while since my feet haven't hit the floor, it makes me feel like a kid again.

Humming, I tap my fingertips over my lips. I'm not sure what those last two were, and I'm up for trying something new, but I also want tonight to mean something. It feels important that everything go right. "What would go with tonight's meal?"

He perks up at that. "I may have something," And starts rooting around in his lower cabinets. I hear him knocking about lots of metal objects-- pots and pans maybe, before he straightens, holding a bottle of wine.

"Is this acceptable?"

I drag the bottle closer and spin it around to get a look at the label. It's a Sauvignon blanc from a few years back, unopened. What a random thing to have in his cabinet. "Why do you have this?"

"I bought it to sample the taste, but never got the chance," he says as he roots around in the drawers. He opens a few before finding the little corkscrew opener and hands it to me. The bottle pops open easily, and I pour it into the two glasses Kri sets out for me. I bring the glass to my lips and sip at it while Kri watches and mimics me. I'm not super into wine-tasting but this one is good, it would pair well with a fancy meal.

The face Kri makes after he sips is the same face I make when Jillie orders tequila shots, and I have to be careful not to inhale my drink. Kri immediately sets his glass down and shakes his head.

I hide my smile behind my glass. "Not a fan?"

"That is quite awful," he says with a shudder.

I take another sip of mine and then swirl the glass because I feel fancy. "It's pretty dry, you may be a fan of the sweeter stuff like Moscato. That one tastes like ginger ale."

Kri eyes my glass and purses his lips, skeptical, "I'll take your word for it."

As he turns back to the stove, I tip the remnants of his drink into my own, nearly filling the glass to the brim. Drinking on an empty stomach is a bad idea, especially if I'm going to need to find my way home later, but if I take little sips instead of trying to gulp it down like I usually do, I think I'll manage.

I watch Kri as he cooks, sitting on the opposite end of the countertop island to stay out of his way. As always, he's graceful in what he does, even with his back to me. All four hands doing something different, always switching focus and lasering in on it, not a single mistake is allowed, and absolutely hypnotizing to watch.

"You're an alien of many talents," I say, and he glances at me over his shoulder.

"How do you mean?"

"I didn't know you could cook."

"Oh, I quite enjoy it. I can make you all manner of things."

I ignore the flutter in my stomach at the idea of him making me food regularly, and try to peer around him as he works. "What's your favorite thing to make?"

"Lepsc'it, it's a fried Trokk root stuffed with vegetables and spices. It's very easy, only a few ingredients, and there's many varieties all over the globe."

"Are you making that now?"

His wings flutter. "I thought I'd attempt something a bit more complicated."

"Are you trying to impress me?" I ask with a smirk.

He's too slow to cover his smile, "Only if it's working."

The smell of spices and vegetables fills the small space, like thyme or rosemary, with a hint of heat behind all of it, mixed with whatever main dish he's prepping. There's large puffs of pink something resting on a pan in the corner, a thick brown sauce that he scraped cubed veggies into, and something else that's blocked by his frame. It all smells heavenly.

My mouth is watering by the time he sets a large plate in front of me with one of those pink bread rolls on one side, the sauce and cubed veggies on the other. I smell more spices and heat, and it's agony to wait for him to sit next to me at the countertop.

"Is it rude to just dig in?"

"Absolutely it is," he says, smiling. "But we're not at a paid dining establishment." He motions to my plate. "Eat."

This dish reminds me of curry but with bread instead of rice, and smells the same. Kri hasn't laid out any utensils as most ento eat with their hands, so I tear a piece of the pink bread off, dip it in the sauce, and pop it in my mouth.

Spices and flavor dance over my tongue, things I can't name but are still delicious. It pairs with the bread so well, I'm barely through the first mouthful before I'm shoving a second bite in my face.

Kri eats opposite me, slow and careful, trying to casually glimpse up at me like he's checking in on me, and I cover my smile around another bite of food. He's worried, I can tell, and it's kind of cute.

I wolf down my food and say nothing, and normally I would feel bad about the silence, but Kri doesn't say anything either.

"It was acceptable?"

"Don't kid yourself, it was delicious. I'm so full," I say, patting my stomach for emphasis.

It's not just the food that keeps me quiet. I also don't want to talk about how I feel. Being emotionally honest makes me anxious, makes me think of all the ways it could be used against me. I don't want to scare off Kri with all the issues I have. He listened to me in Igrien, but how many more times will he listen to me say, "Oh, Stephen made me this way," before he walks out?

But as we both set our plates aside and sit awkwardly in the kitchen, I realize that this is it. That if I want something to happen with Kri, I have to grab it with both hands myself. Even so, I still fiddle with my hands as I speak up.

"So uh, is this the part where we talk about feelings?"

Kri tilts his head, probably picking up on my mood, and quietly says, "If you'd like."

"Not really," I laugh, nerves making the sound shaky. "But I just want to know that we're on the same page-- that we're at a complete understanding," I correct when Kri narrows his eyes in confusion.

I focus my attention to a spot on the table. "I'm not good at words but I want…this. Us-- something…Something."

Even to my own ears it sounds horrible, and I grimace. God damn it, I should've thought about it before we got here. But all I have is feelings, emotions that push at my heart and flood my senses. I don't know how to describe my anxiety any better than describing the color red. Sometimes it feels like too much, like if I acknowledge anything it'll turn into too much to handle.

Kri only stares at me, giving me more space to talk, and my teeth creak as I grind them together anxiously. "Okay, it's your turn."

And then he looks away, down at the table, at his hands. His expression shutters off, a blank face, then darkens into something profoundly sad, and it's like I can hear his thoughts across the table. I appreciate the romp in the lab, Cass, but this just isn't for me. You're too fucked up, and I'm not about to deal with all of that. Except he'd say it nicer, with bigger words. Taking a shaking inhale, I hold my breath as the tightness of anxiety starts to coil around my chest and wraps fingers over my brain.

Then Kri sighs, a heavy movement of his shoulders, and he looks back up at me. "I admit that my thoughts are scattered. Between wanting to breathe you in like oxygen, and questioning whether I've earned the right to inhale. You've already bared your feelings for me, and I did not tell you mine at the time as I was--" he pauses to think, then huffs a laugh, "distracted. But I believe I have words for you now."

He reaches across the small table, taking my hands in his. He's warm as always, and his thumb rubs the back of my hand comfortingly. The tightness in my chest eases, ever so slightly.

"Cassie," he says. "I have a great many feelings for you, some of which I'm prepared for, and others that frighten me deeply. I am well aware that I come with a history, and the weight that it implies. But if you'll allow me your patience and understanding, I'd very much like to explore what a relationship with you would look like."

It's so earnest, so bare, that I'm hit with a wave of emotion that completely drowns out any other thoughts I have in my head. I want to lean forward and kiss his hands. I want to vault over the table and climb into his lap. "Jesus, did you prepare that?"

His eyes widen a fraction, like he didn't expect me to respond like that, and then he nods. "When confronted with interpersonal problems, I know that I tend to recede into myself and minimize the words leaving my mouth, and I'm trying not to do that so we're, what did you say, on the same page? You deserve my transparency in this, especially considering how I've been acting. I was trying to push you away when you wanted to be close, and you deserve so much better than that."

There's so much he's saying without saying it, and I can analyze why he thinks I deserve better, or inspect why all I want to do is jump over the table and give him the ride of his life, but my brain only latches onto my own insecurity. "You prepared a speech for me and all I had was, like, five words."

With a free hand, Kri rustles around in his bag and produces a small square of paper, folded very neatly. "I also wrote down several non-starters in case you realized that you're too good for me, so I also had a handful of words prepared."

It's said so casually, so matter-of-fact, that I can't help but snort. It breaks the tension in the room and my smile feels easier than before, keeping eye contact isn't as difficult.

"And to be fair," he continues. "You said more than enough the other day. I was worried that you'd take it all back."

Something clicks into place in my head, a small, flighty piece of Kri's psyche that I've been seeing without noticing. That despite his attitude, or ego, or anything else, he still craves a form of validation, still vies for approval. And I desperately, so desperately want to know what he's afraid of. But that's a whole other conversation, a heavy and upsetting one. One that I don't think either of us are up for right now.

So I squeeze his hands in mine. "I…really like you," I say. "I think we just need to get better at showing it. I guess we could…figure it out together?"

"That sounds lovely."

Kri tries to clean up on his own, but I butt my way in when he starts to wash the dishes. I'm off to his left, drying and setting them aside, and we fall into a good rhythm that reminds me of his time helping in the lab. We don't need to speak to fill space, I'm guided by his movements, and he's guided by me.

This is nice. Domestic, even. My heart stutters at the idea of doing this again, of sharing a space, of being welcomed into his home.

As I'm drying my hands on a towel, Kri steps around and in front of me, close enough that I can smell fresh water, and I look up at him and offer a warm smile. Taking my chin in one hand, he presses a kiss to my lips, chaste and simple and wholly perfect. This is our first kiss as a couple, I realize as his other hands carefully take the towel from me and rest it on the counter.

The first of many, hopefully.

Is that sappy? I don't care, as long as they keep happening. I press up to continue the kiss, a deep-seated need shocking through me at the soft noise he makes against my lips.

Then Kri searches my face, and I hear the chitter of his wings as they flutter against his back. "You're more than welcome to stay," he says, voice low, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

It physically pains me to be responsible and say, "I have to clock in tomorrow."

He nods once, decisive, and quickly pecks my cheek again before straightening. "I will fly you home, then."

"Sounds goo-- wait what?"

Kri doesn't answer me, only walks past me and into the living room.

Surely, surely he can't mean literally, I continue to think as I grab my stuff and we head out the door.

But sure enough, we walk outside and he picks me up like I'm a princess, something that still shocks me that he can do, and off we go.

I've never seen the Outpost from above, and it's kind of beautiful. I can trace the lights of the walking paths and the hovercar roads, I see single rooms lit from the buildings, other residents up late like me. And outside the border of the Outpost is the pure, unfiltered landscape of Summanus, with its primordial trees and glowing underbrush, like the ground itself is framing us with light. I've seen Kri fly faster, he must be slowing himself for my benefit. And Kri is glowing too, not nearly as bright as the electronics around us, but more subtle, softer. It's still that pale blue, rivers of light lining his chitinous plating. I want to trace them with my fingers, before I remember what it does to him.

We land in front of my building, so gently that Kri's feet don't make a sound, and he sets me down just as carefully.

"Thanks," I mutter, suddenly shy and awkward. I feel like he's bringing me home from prom and it's past curfew. I clear my throat. "Thank you for dinner. Not bad for a first date."

With his two lower arms, he grabs my hands and brings them together. "You will have to decide the next one, then."

I huff an exhale, smiling up at him. "Okay."

He smiles back, soft, relaxed, totally content. Dark eyes search my face, and even in the low light I can make out my reflection in the inky blackness. Two hands come up to cup my cheeks, fingers wrapping around to the base of my skull, as Kri leans down and gently kisses me.

I tilt my head and sigh into it as my eyes fall shut, wishing I were taller so he wouldn't have to bend down as far and I could press up against him. This is still good, though, he can still rest his other hands over my hips, and I can wind my arms over his shoulders.

This is all going to hit me later, a hurricane of repressed feelings. It's going to be a lot of good emotions though, I can feel them boiling behind my chest. Giddyness and arousal alongside anxiety and dread. I'm both excited and terrified of what could happen.

I can still feel the warmth coming off of him even when he leans back. His hands stay on my face, steady and comforting, and he leans forward and quickly kisses me again.

"I should go before I follow you inside," he says around a laugh, and I nod sadly.

"Or before I drag you in."

He chuckles, low and sexy, and squeezes my hands.

"Goodnight Cassie."

"Goodnight Kri," I mumble, and he steps back, dropping my hands from his.

I watch him take off before going inside, and I couldn't wipe the smile from my face if I tried.

Chapter 13 >>

#my writing #A Botanist's Guide #monster writing #monster romance #terato writing #monster x human #exo writing #and with this chapter we start the second arc of the story #focusing on their relationship #we're at the halfway point folks!#they're gonna be disgustingly in love i'm so excited

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rabbit-dance · 1 year ago

Video

Okay, this gives me All The Feels. For one, there's the Obvious feels because this is, simply put, beautiful. He can play again. The thing that makes him happiest. It's beautiful and I'm so glad his story has a happy ending and that we get to see it.

But this hits me extra hard because my story is similar. It's long, so it's below the cut.

So, I've been drawing my whole life, and I've apparently loved comics since before I could talk. My mom found one of my earliest drawings that wasn't a mass of scribbles on a page. I drew "panels", and in each of them were two different-colored blobs, my characters, with circles full of wavy lines and hash marks for word balloons above them. They were talking to each other, with the "words" appearing over one, and then the other in the next panel. My first comic. Apparently Tiny Rabbit was a comedic genius, because mom said that when I brought the comic to her I was laughing so hard I could barely walk. I couldn't speak much at that age, but she knew that I had, at least to myself, successfully written down a joke. Fast forward a bit, and I'm in college for animation. This was in 2000. It was a shiny new century, and technology in the field was racing forward at an almost alarming rate. I was right in the middle; old enough to learn traditional hand-drawn techniques, but young enough to be learning 3D animation and modeling with the latest programs and equipment. Best of both worlds!

It was wonderful but grueling, even in school. Remember the animator strikes that just happened? Yeah, that culture was taught. We were encouraged to draw with both hands so that if when the one hand gave out, you could pick up your pencil with the other and keep going. Only about 30% of students even made it through the animation program. Just like the industry, it was notorious for chewing people up and spitting them out.

But I'm stubborn as hell, and I did it.

This is where my story gets familiar. We've all heard this one. There's a promising young athlete, fresh out of college, who gets to do their thing professionally. They're doing okay. Not the head of the pack, but they definitely don't suck, and they're a favorite for advancement. Then they blow out their knee and their career is over before it's started. Oh, well. Them's the breaks, kid.

That was me with my hands. Carpal tunnel in both of my wrists. Potential permanent nerve damage. My fingers would sometimes lock up into little T-Rex claws like our pianist's up there. Pain that rivaled my migraines would shoot up my arm when I tried to grip a pen or hold a mouse. For a while I could hardly type. My doctors had never seen damage like mine in someone my age, especially with no other health problems that could affect it. They said that with surgery, the gods smiling on us, and if I was the best physical therapy patient ever, the best I could get was 70% function.

And that I could never be a professional artist again.

I felt like a fish that was just told I wasn't allowed to swim anymore. To say that I felt bad about it would be an understatement, but I couldn't wallow in it. Bills had to be paid, but what could I do? I have severe vertigo. I can't drive. My hands and wrists were toast, and I couldn't use a keyboard or reliably carry anything heavy.

My one grandpa had taught me metalwork growing up. Brazing, soldering, etc. I've always been a beader (Natives gonna bead, yo), I'd picked up chainmaille as a hobby, and I've always liked jewelry. So, I became a jeweler. I started with chainmaille, and over the years I expanded my tools and skills to get to silversmithing, engraving, etc. All that fancy jeweler stuff.

"But Rabbit," you ask, "Isn't that hard on the hands?"

A valid question! Turns out, how I hold my tools is different than how I hold my pencil. Even when I couldn't draw, I could still make jewelry. Eventually I got to where I could use my computer and such again, and I did start drawing, but only a little bit here and there. Doodles, really. They scratched the itch, but nothing more.

So, I built a nice little business as a jeweler selling at shows and festivals. My wife, kiddo and I were doing okay. I could manage a little bit of drawing every day; less than an hour, but it was something. I even made some coloring books and self-published them on Amazon. I said I was stubborn, remember?

Enter The Plague.

We all know that sucked for artists who rely on events to get by, so I'll spare you that part. What's important is that I, whilst doomscrolling (everyone's favorite quarantine activity), came upon a picture from 2002 that was shared on one of the Native pages on FB. It was taken outdoors, at night, at a college bonfire party. I was in it, along with about a dozen other people. I had been visiting family on the rez with my grandma, and my cousin invited me to the party.

What was a fun memory for me was quickly destroyed when I learned that I was the only person in the photo still alive. Everyone else had died from Covid.

Quick aside if you didn't know - The pandemic sucked for everyone, but it hit Indigenous folks HARD. Look it up if you want to be mad about something. It's awful.

Anyway, that made me take a long, hard look at my life and what I wanted out of it. I wanted to make a comic book. I'd always dreamed of it, and had even started several in high school and college, but I only got a few pages in before I quit. Life and my own insecurities got in the way. But now, with no shows to work towards in quarantine and an old flame burning again, I had plenty of time and nothing to lose. I had a story idea rattling in my head, too.

One about plague doctors.

So, I went back to have my hands looked at. I was going to make a comic book come Hell or high water, but I wanted to know where I stood, first. The doctors were amazed! The years of using all of the many different tools in my metalworking had strengthened my hands and wrists. I'd learned to take breaks, and how to do the right stretches. 95% functionality!

I was cleared to draw.

That was almost exactly three years and one month ago. I told myself then that I would start drawing on January 1st, 2021. To prepare, I started outlining, got Clip Studio Paint, dusted off the old Wacom, and decided to stream it to keep myself accountable.

I'm coming up on almost two years of drawing for hours every day I possibly can. I'm on Issue Five of the comic, and I'm working to get Issue Three ready for printing. I'm still excited about the story, and I get a rush every time a panel really comes together. Evie and the kiddo say they've never seen me happier, and I don't know how I could be.

As I watch this old man play with his bionic gloves, I look at the black drawing glove on my own hand, and smile.

I understand, João Carlos. I hope you play every day, for years to come.

Thanks to a pair of a bionic gloves, this 80-year-old classical pianist can finally play the piano again. The maestro, João Carlos Martins, had lost dexterity in his hands due to aging and health complications. His face at being able to play piano again says it all. 🎶

follow @nowthisnews for daily news videos & more

#the stubborn in me sees the stubborn in you

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meichenxi · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, could I ask you how you do shadowing? Like the different ways you do it? You mentioned in your tag that shadowing is good and I'd love to hear how you do it! I do not attempt shadowing much so I don't really know what helps, etc. ToT (my studyblr is rigelmejo)

Hellooo! Thank you for the interesting question!

Tbh I think I do it fairly basically - I don’t use any particularly fancy software, but software like Language Learning with Netflix has certainly made it easier. There’s a whole video on how to get the most of it here: [on mobile, link didn't work - How to study Chinese with Netflix! by Chinese Zero To Hero] (I’d recommend checking out all of their videos actually, they’ve done a bunch of livestreams recently and they place a lot of emphasis on shadowing + the course they are trying to sell you is…actually phenomenally good)

(Also, I have to preface this by saying that I have been very lucky in terms of pronunciation: I learnt about 80% of my current vocabulary by ear without characters or pinyin. I have been in China for eight months in total, and while I didn’t speak Chinese for all of that, I was constantly soaking in info on natural sentence intonation. I still often don’t know officially what the tone of a vocabulary item is, especially if it changes tone like 教, 为 or 相, but I don’t get yelled at so I have definitely internalised a lot of those changes. I definitely would have more trouble with this if I hadn’t had that experience - my other areas are waaaay weaker because of this though- my reading SUCKS lmao and I can literally handwrite about ten characters)

Anyway. How I shadow:

1) Quite simply by playing the line, and repeating it with all the emotion it has!! I usually use Netflix or Viki for this. I try to do it as fast as possible, and if I can’t do the whole thing, I ‘chunk’ it: if I were doing the sentence 我们还不知道他会不会来, I would start from the end with 他会不会来, then 不知道他会不会来, and then the whole sentence. Notice that this isn’t breaking it down into words or even grammatical phrases, but intonational phrases: it would be perfectly sensible to just do 会不会来 without the 他 but realistically, since this is a question, it’s likely that a strong stress will be placed on the first 会, and you wouldn’t be able to replicate that without also included the more weakly stressed syllable before.

2) I locate (intentionally or subconsciously) the main locus of stress within the sentence, and I focus on that accordingly. Tones may become less extreme if they are not stressed, and may become more exaggerated if stressed. This is always a good exercise. I accompany this with physical actions - I throw my hands down, I sigh, I groan!

3) I put away the text, and don’t look at the tones or even my computer screen - more on this below.

4) Finally, when I think I’ve got it reasonably accurate, I’ll record them speaking the line into my phone with an appropriate pause for copying and play it back to myself at various points throughout the day.

5) I then go and find other words with the same tone contour to slot in, and copy it again. After that, I find words that are slightly different tonally and pop them in too.

6) I finally do fun things like hold a conversation with myself. This can be really simple phrases imbued with some kind of emotion - 这个女子到底是谁呀？为什么不认识我？应该是新手吧。You can do this either really informally, or very formally, or both - trying to speak in the latter way is very fun! So then it’d be idk something more like: 那位姑娘是何人，来自何处？This is fun because you can really slow down your speech and sound as elegant as you like!! (this will sound stilted if you do it for modern speech, but it’s a very fun exercise)

Choosing your media!!

1) Don’t use donghuas. Seriously. The voice actors usually speak at a ridiculous pace and not with the same range of ‘normal’ intonation

2) Your Chinese is definitely good enough to recognise when anyone is quoting poetry or speaking in a paricularly sexy literary way so, uh…don’t do that. That rules dramas like Nirvana in Fire OUT.

3) Modern dramas and reality TV shows CAN be great, but they can also be quite intimidatingly quick and almost too mushy at times. I’d recommend informal speech in guzhuang dramas more, because they have professional voice actors and extensive sound editing, meaning that although it might be fast and the vocabulary harder, it’s actually much more accessible and easier to copy. You don’t want to be stuck with the awfulness of 50% failed foreigner and 50% 12 year old boy who can’t enunciate properly!!

4) CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON WISELY. I try to find characters that speak in a dramatic, whiny or childish way. This is so important! There’s literally no use copying Lan Wangji unless you want to be able to have that particular cadence and tone of voice you get reciting poetry. Childish/whiny/dramatic characters on the other hand stress some words very strongly, and rush others together - this is great for hearing what actual real speech sounds like. Whininess wins. In The Untamed, characters like Wei Wuxian (not yllz!wwx but just…regular wwx), 一问三不知 Nie Huaisang, Jin Ling, and Jingyi are all great. Also Jiggy, who is just very extra constantly and speaks much slower as well, which really helps. In SHL characters like Gu Xiang are good.

5) CHOOSE YOUR VOICE WISELY! If you are really aiming to copy them 100% (which you should try at least sometimes), you want somebody with your pitch range to sound normal. I have a sort of party trick in Chinese that because I’ve spent so much time listening to women in guzhuang dramas I can change my voice and sound like a) a scheming concubine with honeyed words, or b) the voice of the Beijing metro. My teacher found it hysterically funny. But it’s not my natural voice, and if I speak like that for too long it hurts. The women usually are too high for me, and the big burly manly men too low - so I’d recommend finding a man with a higher voice, or an older woman (like some of the female characters in Nirvana in Fire). Again, sorry that this is mostly the Untamed (I’m just most familiar with it) but the voice actors for Wei Wuxian and some of the juniors (+jiggy) has a higher voice. Likewise Chengling in Word of Honour.

On intonation in general:

- The thing is that whilst shadowing is useful it requires prior ability in a whole bunch of other skills that you can train - it relies on your ability to accurately mimic pitch, emotion and other contrasts. Training this in ANY language, including your native one, will help your ability to do this in Chinese - so I’d recommend spending a fair amount of time practicing shadowing (or speaking just after somebody whilst listening to a string of text, like monolingual simultaneous interpreting) in your native language too. Any training copying accents or mimicking other people is going to similarly help, regardless of the language.

So, with that in mind, further tips:

1) Hum / try to copy the intonation without any words. What this does is force you to pay attention to what the intonation actually is, versus what you may think it should be.

2) Don’t look at the text! Do! Not! Look! At! The! Text! If you look at the characters or pinyin you’re telling yourself ‘ok this is a third tone here’ etc, but you want to override the part of your brain that has gotten into bad habits and is supremely self-confident in how you’re pronouncing the third tone, and actually just go straight back to mimicking.

3) Don’t be afraid to do it with vocabulary that is way beyond your level. Actually, I find this can sometimes be helpful, because you don’t have a prior idea about how a particular tone pair should be useful - and you don’t know which tone you should be producing.

4) Learn vocabulary by ear - listen to a vocab podcast or even make one yourself (I often do this; I record my daily Anki and listen back to it through headphones copying throughout the day - if you’re not confident in your pronunciation you can get Google Translate to do it). Similarly, pick unknown vocabulary out of a longer segment and remember it, trying to internalise the tones instead of figuring out which tone it is.

5) Find emotional sentences, and copy them with emotion. This is SO CRUCIAL!!! We remember things when we relate to them, and when we imbue them with emotion - and it also helps in hearing exactly how an angry second tone sounds, for instance.

6) When you’re copying, look up, and imagine you are having an actual conversation. Carry yourself with conviction and poise!! Really try to whine like wwx or slime like jgy. After a couple of turns copying them, try to turn off the audio and keep delivering it in the same manner.

7) Swap individual words out. Once you have a line properly figured out, swap a word or two that has a different tone pair, and focus on delivering it with the same pattern of stress.

8) Finally, practice doing this in your native language too!! It’s a skill that we don’t use often, and it can be trained. Some people are terrible at it at first go even in their native language, but you can work on it!

About intonation in general:

1) I think a lot of pronunciation problems with people sounding unnatural or stiff ultimately come down to a fundamental misunderstanding of what intonation looks like across different languages. In English we mark it by pitch: and we are so used to the rhetoric that Chinese has ‘tone’ and not ‘intonation’ that we try and focus on blindly copying every single word textbook perfect without listening to how it actually sounds.

2) Chinese does have intonation!!! Except that, unlike English, when you stress a word, the pitch doesn’t change, but the tone contour is exaggerated - basically the only time you will ever hear a full third tone is in isolated or very exaggerated speech. If you have a Chinese friend, get them to record a sentence like the English ‘I didn’t ask her to steal his rucksack’, and put stress on the different elements of it - I didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, I didn’t ask, and so on. Notice and copy how the tones change. When shadowing, you should always be paying attention to where the stress is in the sentence: when you speak by yourself, practicing saying a sentence neutrally, and then with stress on one component, the next, and so on. If it feels unnatural, it’s because you might not have practicised like this before - it’ll get better!

Hope that’s somewhat helpful / interesting!

- 梅晨曦

#chinese #chinese langblr #langblr #chinese studyblr #studyblr #learn chinese #study chinese #chinese vocab #lingblr #askies

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theficplug · 4 years ago

Text

|Next Lifetime|Erik Killmonger|

previous chapters : Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

erik killmonger x black reader

|part 4|

warnings: um definitely smut this chapter at the end. so 18+ for this chapter! and a possible trigger warning for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcom.

synopsis: reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). This one is a long ass chapter. So, grab you a snack and something to drink! I hope y’all like it.

“You promised on our birthday that you would give me something far more special than the charms you would gift to me. In 2018, you wanted to avenge your birth parents and you went off and did something foolish and when you- when they returned you to me you were-.” you struggle for a bit to find the words to explain it all to him as he takes a step back to gather himself.

He rubs his eyes before grabbing your arms gently and massaging them . He leans down to look you in your eyes before asking “Ma, did you take something before I came to pick you up? You alright? Cause what you saying don’t make no sense at all... Your pupils don't look dilated though.”

“I know how this must sound. Batshit crazy. I know it sounds crazy to me too. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m losing my own damn mind. I don’t know how or why. I just know that you came back to me.” you say to him and he shakes his head.

“Erik. You’re talking about your ex boyfriend...The one that passed... . Alright, I’m going to take you home now... I still don’t understand what’s going on here and I’ve had about all I can take of trying to understand what’s going on here.” N’Jadaka says quietly to you before going around and opening your car door.

The drive was silent as you picked at your nails and let the soft r&b roll over the tension between the two of you.

Your own thoughts were going in about a billion different directions again. It didn’t feel right to just sit on all of that and not say anything at all. As ripped from a science fiction film as it sounded at least he knows.

He was never one to think quietly because you could practically read his thoughts with the changing of expressions across his face.

The relief of seeing your building washed over you as he offered to walk you to your door.

It was bittersweet because there was still so much of him in this different version of him. Even when he was upset with you or livid with whatever ghost that was haunting him back then, he still showed nothing but tenderness to you.

You nod and give him a small smile before following him up the stairs , to your elevator, and finally your door.

“I know that this is a lot. I mean who in their right mind would be able to process all of that.I wish there was any other way to say it... But thank you, I had a really nice time.” your soft words snap him out of staring at your face as if he was trying to piece it all together.

He knew deep down that there was something about you and what happened that weekend while dreaming in colours and other worlds but he couldn’t wrap his head around all of this happening in real life.

You lean up to kiss his cheek and he grabs your shoulders softly. “With all due respect. You seem like a lovely person and a good woman, but I just - this all a lil too weird for me and I don’t think it’s a good idea that we continue seeing each other.”

He kisses your hand and leaves with one look over your shoulder as you call out “Meet me at our spot. If you are still anywhere in there. You’ll know what I mean.”

“What the hell happened ? I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow morning?” Iri says as she settles on the other side of the sofa and patted the spot next to her as you kick off the sandals and lay your head on her lap with tears already prickling your eyes.

“Oh you didn’t? Please don’t tell me you told him about the soulmate reincarnation thing? Sweets, you probably scared the hell out of that man. We needed you to keep that waaay down in the vault.” Tiki adds as she pops the cork off the bottle of wine in her hand and pauses the movie playing on the screen in the background.

“Here’s what we’re gonna do . You’re gonna text him and tell him that you had just gotten your wisdom teeth removed earlier today and the meds had you unexpectedly zooted as fuck. “ Iri suggests and you chuckle softly.

---

Meanwhile at N’Jadaka’s house he was already being pestered by Lina and Penn for some type of details about what happened during the date. Orleans was already in the kitchen cooking and ear hustling but went back to his conversation on the phone with Big Mike when he realized there wasn’t any tea.

“I don’t feel good. I’m finna go lay down. I’ll talk to y’all in the morning”. He says simply to them before trudging his way to his part of the house.

They had been friends since college and just got used to the idea of living together as they did in the dorms so they made it work after graduation.

It helped them save money for when they finally separated and all of their schedules kept them busy so they didn't have time to get sick of each other. They also knew him well enough to know when something was bothering him and to leave him alone when he gets this moody.

"What the fuck?" He whispered under his breath

"What the fuck was all that?" He continues talking to himself as he strips and walks past the bathroom mirror to the shower.

He stops when something catches his eye. He sees a birthmark on his chest that almost resembles the shape of claw marks. He lets his fingers linger over the mark for a second. Thoughts of a panther mask clouded his memories for a moment before he shook his head and entered the shower.

---

A few hours later of talking through it with your girls about possibly seeing a therapist about all that's going on and you were ready for bed.

It didn't take long to drift off, you were ready to put the whole thing behind you.

The familiar setting of purples , pinks, and hues of blue came into focus and you looked around letting the butterflies land on you again.

You walk through the flowers and find Erik sitting by a stream of water weaving some of the flowers together.

"What the hell, E?" You ask as you run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck

He turns to you and smiles big , his dimples on full display before shrugging.

"It ain't perfect but it's the best I could do. They said it's like a do-over or something like that. I get a second chance but as a result of the way I did things the first time it's a lil different. Like when you restore a computer and it lose all it's files and shit. I get a new life but I'm still kinda stuck. I kinda like it though. I don't remember all the other shit when I'm awake. It really is like starting over. Shits crazy to explain when you think about it. But for you , you already know. I'd find you in this life and the next and the one after that. I don’t think I’mma ever fully remember what happened with all of that when i’m awake. I’m cool with it. It ain’t something I’m tryna remember." He says tipping your chin up to look at you and kissing you softly

"I know. At least I get to hold you in the real world. It's just different. But guess what I saw today? I seen that bench that you and me signed all them years back. It's still there." You say to him and he places the lil flower bracelet around your wrist as y'all sit and talk for the rest of the night.

By the time you wake up with the aroma of breakfast wavering throughout the loft you feel a little better about the whole situation with Erik, not Erik.

You opened your phone and sent him an I'm sorry gif with a few extra words inspired by Tina's wisdom tooth lie.

After easing into the kitchen and standing in the doorway you see the two lovebirds dancing around the kitchen singing to each other and laying food on the plates.

"Morning lil sleepy head. Don't forget that I'll still be coming down to the center with you today for the seminar. You hungry?" Iris asks as she places the plate in your hands with a kiss to the top of the head.

"Of course. There's a young girl, Sophie there that I really think would love to talk to you. She's just starting her transition. And her parents are wonderful but they don't really have much money. She hasn't really had the chance to get more “feminine” presenting clothes and she likes makeup. " You say and she nods catching your drift.

"Well it'd brighten anybody's day seeing a beautiful successful trans woman like myself honey. But let's lift her spirits even more. I'm gonna bring some of the makeup I got from pr packages and some of the clothes from this collection. I really hope it helps." She answers and Tika just saunters over to her proclaiming her love for her.

"Alright alright alright. I get it. I'm single as hell." You say laughing softly

---

Two weeks ticked by with radio silence on N'Jadaka's end. After the 4th day when he gave you the cold shoulder at a coffee shop, you decided to stop trying.

Maybe it wasn't fate and maybe you were just believing what you wanted to believe.

You reason with yourself as you walked around the loft making notes about the new housing project you were working on.

Finally having the house to yourself with the lovebirds gone for the day on a little adventure. You got to work budgeting and calling different areas to rent out apartments to you for women and lgbtq+ with housing insecurities.

Your ramblings and thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door , thinking that Iri or Tika left something behind.

"I told you to take your sunscre- Daka?" You question as he stands in front of you

You cross your arms and furrow your brows while waiting for an answer from him.

He stands for a moment like he’s trying to gather all of his thoughts together in a way that makes sense to both of you.

"What're you doing here?" You ask putting your hand on your hip.

He drops his shoulders and lets out a soft sigh before looking at you.

"I didn't wanna believe it. What you said that night cause like how the fuck does something like that happen? I’mma be honest. I wanted to just believe that you were a lil off and leave it at that but something keeps telling me that you right. I can't remember shit before college and all I wanted to do was be with you. From the moment I met you in the store. I was like, this is it. This is what's missing. A piece to a puzzle that's all jumbled up." He admits and you nod slowly before letting him in.

You walk around the kitchen getting a cup of tea for yourself and sitting a cup of coffee down on the counter for him.

“Don’t worry it’s black, I know you dont like it sweet.”

"You know I didn't exactly expect my fiancee that I buried months before to show up at a damn supermarket of all places. This isn't some movie or fanfiction. These kind of things don't happen in real life. Daka you, you had claw marks all over you. The last time I laid eyes on you. And now you're here in front of me. I thought that I was losing my mind." You say and he starts to unbutton his shirt.

"These." He says peeling his shirt off and showing you the birthmarks on his chest and shoulder.

You trace your fingers over it before leaning your head on his shoulder.

"I asked my parents about my childhood and when I passed by my old neighborhood a few days ago andI remembered some things. I remember what happened to my other parents, in pieces. Shit’s brutal." He says dropping his gaze

"It's okay." You whisper to him and wrap your arms around him. You rocked him for a moment letting him let all of those feelings wash over him.

He embraced you for a moment before kissing you tenderly. You tug at his bottom lip before deepening the kiss when he press you against the counter.

"We'll figure it out... Something telling me I'd be a fuckin fool to lose you again." He says quietly against yours lips.

"Are you gonna make love to me or are you going to keep looking at me like that?" You ask as he studies your whole face like he's looking at art.

"A memory. It's you. We stood right here and I kissed you the same way. You were saying something like "you bring yourself home to me"." He says and you nod frantically, holding him closer to you.

"I did. It was right before you left." You admit and he nods before lifting you up onto the counter and kissing you heatedly this time. He kisses down to your breasts before looking up at permission from you to unhook your bra.

Always a man that knows what he's doing. He takes kisses around your breasts and nipples. He takes his time to lick and caress you until he works his way down.

You shake your head yes before moving to slide off your panties but his kisses and his mouth is already beating you to it as he kisses down to your thigh.

He slides your panties off with his teeth and tosses them over his shoulder.

You tilt your head back as you feel him wasting no time massaging over your clit and working you over with his fingers, curling them and stroking you gently.

Your soft moans fill the room when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and begins to suckle your clit softly , swirling his tongue over it.

"Tika will kil- Ooh god. How does your tongue feel like it's vibrating?" You ask and he only chuckles and grips onto your cheeks to bring you closer to him.

He was feasting on and devouring you like he was going to lose again and you could grind your hips down against his tongue and moan his name sweetly.

He didn't stop his tongue or fingers working in you until your legs are shaking and you're gripping at his head.

"You have- fuck. I'm a squir-" you moan his name brokenly while trying to get out your words and lean back for a moment licking his lips before realizing what you're trying to say.

"Hold that for me. I wanna come with you." He says to you and you pout and protest as he removes his fingers. He picks you up off the counter and carries you bridal style asking you which room is yours.

"Left , left." You giggle into his shoulder as he helps you slide your dress off and you unbutton his jeans for him.

You capture him in a kiss for a moment feeling his soft plump lips against yours again for the first time in what feels like forever.

"It's been a long time since I've done all of this. . . Gentle." You say and he runs a calloused finger over your cheek moving a curl away from your face as he looks at you.

He gets a quick flash of a memory of you and him in bed. You wore a smile on your face before telling him "happy anniversary".

He trailed his fingers down your body remembering almost every scar , every moment.

When Erik got to a scar at your side. He chuckled, unlocking a memory of you two running from the neighborhood rottweiler , Smokey.

That old ass dog hated you and he hoisted you over the fence first after being out late one night in high school. The gate had caught your side when you jumped.

Erik felt so bad he brought you food from anywhere you wanted everyday from to school for a month.

He leans down to place open mouthed kisses to it.

He traced over your thighs to the cellulite and stretch marks remembering when you first got them.

He was moving homes at the time and he wasn't ready to be further away from you yet. You two just sat for hours at the park in the grass, talking.

" You know white men behind all of that anyways. They want y'all to feel like you gotta look the same way. That's how they make them billions. My mama had 'em . Yo mama , and generations back. And it ain't ever stop them from being the women they are. Besides if any dirtneck nigga ever try you , just tell me. Imma handle it." He would say as you sat with your head on his lap, staring at the sun setting, knowing good and well your grandparents were gonna ground you for being late when you get home.

They never did though cause you were with Erik they knew you were gonna be alright.

"Nothing to worry about. I… I've never done any of that stuff before…Have you?" you question hesitantly as you stare off.

"Tisha. From Ms. Wilkes class. We was coming from the kick back-"

"Uh uh . That's your business , you ain't gotta tell me all of that." You say slightly upset at the fact that Tisha of all people was his first.

----

"I got you." He says kissing your forehead then your nose before hooking your leg over his hip and easing into you slowly while his lips are still on yours. His eyes never left yours as he cupped your face sweetly like he didn't want to lose you again.

In this moment he gets a glimpse of prom night and how things changed between the both of you forever.

He wraps his hands around your waist. One of his hands splayed across your belly.

He remembers the pregnancy scare you both had afterwards with him holding your hand and telling you no matter what happens he wanna be there for both of you.

Luckily, nothing came of it but you were definitely closer because of it.

You let out an open mouthed gasp at the feeling of being so full of him after so long.

You rest your hands on his neck and shoulder and he bottoms out fully settling into you as he moves his arms next to balance himself.

You close your eyes as he begins to stroke into you trying to set a rhythm for you as his praises for you fall from his lips.

He kisses his way down your neck licking the marks that are already starting to form there.

"My lil baby." He mutters out after licking a freshly formed hickey forming on top of your breasts.

You open your eyes slowly , looking at him and the way he's looking at you .

"It's been way too long since I've heard that from you. You're remembering?" You ask quietly as you let out a soft moan.

N'Jadaka's muscles flex and tighten as he picks up his pace. His abs clenched as he pulls out almost completely and filled you at a different angle.

The sounds of your moans filling the room with every stride and stroke of his hips, it seems like you're closer to floating in space. The man was fucking you like his life depended on it and at this point all you could do is wrap your arms around him again to comfort you as he shutters and rolls his hips deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him as you relish in the feeling of him.

"Fuck. I remember all of it." He says half chuckling at the way it's coming to him and half nearly in tears cause he really missed being with you.

"I also remember that this is your favourite position cause you like to see my face." He teases before leaning down to kiss you again with them plump ass lips.

"E?" You ask , grabbing his face with trembling hands.

"Baby?" You ask again

He moves his hands from your waist and places your hands in his. Then moving them above your head as he flashes in between making love to you for the last time and now.

You roll over with him and place your hands on your chest riding him slowly getting the rhythm as he strokes into you from below.

He laughs softly when he realizes what you're doing.

"Are you spelling my fucking name , baby?" He asks and you tell him that you can spell both.

You let out a whimper when he brushes your spot and let him take over as he runs his hands over your thighs to your butt and over your back as he strokes into you.

He plants his feet on the bed and work your hips in rhythm with him.

It didn't take long for you to orgasm with a loud shriek of his name . You had forgotten how he gets when he's close as his hands on gripping all over your thighs and your back. You were already feeling sensitive with your second orgasm coming through and this man felt like he was trying to put it in your belly.

He rolls you onto your side giving it to you deeply.

With a loud hiss and panting from him he cums , holding you in his arms.

"I don't think it has felt like that since our birthday last year." He says into your ear as he pulls you closer into his arms.

He engulfs you fully in his embrace and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

You laugh softly and roll over to face him , resting your forehead against his.

"I remember. You took me to Paris. I had never been and at the time I was obsessed with everything Parisian. We fucked on the balcony and somehow I ended up popping the straps to my favorite dress. You still owe me by the way." You tease and he shakes his head laughing.

"I think we ended up saving they marriage from across the way though. They was arguing the whole time. Then they gon watch us like we ain't see them." Erik says laughing as he squeezes your thigh playfully.

"I know they was trying some things." You joke

"I missed you so much. You don't even understand." You admit with a somehow saddened and relieved expression.

"I know. I want to start over this time. All of that Erik Killmonger shit is over with. I wanna keep the name N'Jadaka and just start over. All of that was too heavy on me to carry. I wanna let it all go. I wanna do it right with you." He explains

"Good because if you put me through that again. Wakanda will be the least of your damn worries." You say to him and he nods giving you his word, sealed with a kiss.

"It'll be alright. Everything happens for a reason. And I think that right now a bath needs to happen and I'm gonna need you to do that thing again that you did in the kitchen cause I'm tryna figure out when you learned that-"

At some point after the bubble bath/ shower combo you were both out like a light until Iri and Tika decide to come busting in like they usually do with little gifts and food for you.

"Guess who's your fave- SHE GOT A WHOLEASS MAN IN HER BED" Iri announces to Tika before your pillow hits the door as she closes it.

"Sorry about that. This is kinda our cuddle hour so they're used to just coming on in." You say sleepily and he just laughs it off while holding you closer.

"It's all good. I remember that I ain't know them much before but when we did spend time with them, they were good people." He says, still trying to piece it together.

----

You fell asleep more peacefully than you had in a long time. Now granted, good sex didn't fix the many layers of issues and mysticism surrounding everything.

But for now, you knew that you had him, you had your girls, family and your business. Everything felt alright again.

Right up until the point of sleeping through the first alarm to meet the property owners.

"Bae. Bae your phone going off." N'Jadaka whispers in the dark room , voice still riddled with sleep and grogginess.

"Shit. Shit. I'm gonna be so late." You call out , quickly jumping out of bed and stumbling around the room.

It takes you about 25 minutes to speed through getting dressed in your best skirt suit.

N'Jadaka sits on the end of the bed putting on his shoes and watching you shuffle around.

He had offered to drive you there and stay with you and check out the property with you.

He slows you down by grabbing you by your arms gently and placing a kiss to your lips.

"Good morning, handsome. Let's go"

You walk through the living room with Iri and Tika already posted up in the kitchen placing two breakfast burritos in a container to grab and go.

You grab your things from the counter all while thanking them and jetting towards the door.

"Good luck pooh!" Tika calls after you.

"Byyyyeeee Dakaaaa" they call out after him

---

"Here it is . These are the apartments. I know they don't look like much now from the outside. But from the pictures it looks great. And they'll be safe and comfortable here-" you babble on to N'Jadaka while you both stand outside of the building where Erik grew up , until you notice two women walking to a car that clearly wasn't from this area.

You notice Shuri and your breath hitches in your throat.

Frozen in your anxiety, the seconds ticked by and it was too late to leave. She looked you dead in the eye and then at N'Jadaka like she had seen a ghost.

She gasped and Nakia followed the eyes before back into the car.

"SHURI WAIT - PLEASE" you yell out to them but the car was already speeding away.

tag list : @doublesidedscoobysnacks @chaneajoyyy @mirandkimy @doitforthevine67 @amyhennessyhouse @dasia21 @depressionandfandomsinc @sinfully-dope @ambitionwood @heybriheyyy @wholelotta-melanin @theesotericqueen @mbakuwife @spookys-girl @teardropzih @bigchoose @ceo-of-baby @sweetpeachjones @lost-ssoull @shyblackgurl @justpeachee @nijajoha @imayhavemisunderstood @beautifullmelodyxx @alookintohersoul @rbhp @champagnesugamama @just-peachee @almeda-344 @mahogany2021

#black panther #erik killmonger #black panther smut #erik killmonger smut #Erik killmonger x Reader #fanfic for black girls

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neo-culture-mafia · 5 years ago

Text

II.

I got a million trillion things that I'd rather fuckin' do

He sat across the girl he was forced to go out with and waste money to buy her dinner. She was short of an average girl and nothing clicked between both of them. He dressed in a nice suit, hair done up and she showed up in stained sweatpants and knotty hair. He wasn't one to judge without knowing the full story, but once she straight up told him she didn't care how she looked or...smelled...he let the judgements run rampant in his mind.

The food came and he already wanted to run his own fork through his eye sockets from the way she had spaghetti sauce all over face; the chunk of tomato on top of her brow bone staring him down for what felt like eternity.

"So...uh...what do you like to do?" He asked, trying to be nice and trying to atleast enjoy some of his already ruined night. He could've been doing anything right now, but here he was on a blind date with Chenle's cousin. "I like taking things apart." She licked her lips, shoving a finger in her ear and wiggling it around before wiping it on the wine red tablecloth.

"Like...cars?" He mumbled, kind of awaiting the next thing that came out of her mouth. To soften the blow, he downed his wine quickly.

"No...animals-"

"CHECK, please."

I heard you got a new man, I see you takin' a pic, Then you post it up thinkin' that it's making me sick

He was always told to not date within the family (not the Alabama kind) because it would only relate to tension once it didn't work out...boy does Renjun wish he would've listened in the first place.

His once lover was now his own enemy...and she slept less than 200 feet away from him in the next apartment.

She knew what got to him; thinking that flaunting her new man would piss him off. Spoiler, it didn't. Yet, the never ending lewd sounds coming through his bedroom wall did piss him off.

Word around the complex is that she's only doing this to win him back, but, he's already cut all emotional connection to her and her stank ass cooch.

The time was 3:24 AM. He has literally tried all positions of falling asleep; holding his pillow over his head was his only chance of ending the never-ending moans from his ex's apartment.

Once smacking on the wall began, he knew he couldn't sit here anymore. He was losing his own shut-eye to the nasty ass couple next door.

He got up, not skipping a beat as he went to the kitchen and got a bucket; ice and water quickly filling the inside.

His steps were weighted as he whipped his door open and automatically laying his foot through the other door when it came into sight.

The moans stopped for a moment but began again until the bedroom door was whipped open. He saw red as his arm launched the ice water; bucket and all towards the sweaty bodies.

"Shut the fuck up. Everyone is trying to sleep." He yelled, walking back out the front door and to the comfort of his now silent bedroom.

Say you want me to win, but hope I lose

He's had his fair share of toxic relationships. From try to hook up with his best friend to keying his car and dipping with his wallet.

Yet, nothing compares to when his now-ex tried to kill him. Not even try to conceal it but she just went straight for it.

Didn't even try to hide it and she didn't even have the right information.

He was making dinner for both of them; his heart content on imagining doing this for the rest of his life. "Sweetie, it's almost done!" He yelled out of the kitchen and he watched her stand up from the couch.

He started to plate everything, expecting her to be sitting at the kitchen counter, ready to eat his delicious meal. Yet, when he turned around to put the pan in the kitchen sink, he was met with a gun barrel pointed directly at him.

He just sighed, tossing the pan into the sink; the sizeable dent still there to this day. "I can never just have a cute love story." He untied his apron, his flannel coming down his torso once again.

"You're so stupid." She chuckled, both hands coming up to help her aim better. "And how is that?" He questioned, hands coming up as if he was surrendering to her insane mind.

"Once you're gone. This." She motioned with her gun to the house. "The house, the base, the army. Is mine." Her evil smile was just unsettling, not even a good one.

"...I don't think you understand how this works..." He chuckled. "I'm an elite soldier...not a boss...I'm not a hierarch elite...if I die..." He was actually laughing at this point. "You don't get shit."

Her smile faltered as renjun crossed his arms over his chest. "Then...then...I'll take out Taeyong...and then it will be min-" "There's an underboss for a reason...we actually have two...then it would go to Mark...then Yuta...then Sicheng...then it goes down the ranks." He shook his head.

"Well...where do you fall?" She asked, her gun now at her side. He shrugged. "15th or 16th. Somewhere around there." He said nonchalantly.

"So...have fun with that information." He rolled his eyes, turning on the water for the pan to start soaking.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Her voice was confused and he chuckled. "Cause you're not leaving this apartment alive. And besides...if you threaten me with a gun...make sure the safety is off." He shook his head, leaning on the counter and pulling himself up.

"Huh-" -smack. She laid passed out on the kitchen floor, a sizeable puddle of blood becoming a growing mess.

"Oh no my food is getting cold."

I got a new chick that I gotta thank God for

"Renjun, let's go!" Jeno screamed, hopping out of the blacked out car and sprinting down the street full of people.

Renjun dropped his drink and started running, ripping his disguise shirt off to reveal a bullet proof vest and the usual tactical uniform.

The mission had just gone wrong and now they were running for their lives.

"Chenle. Back up van on third street. Now." Renjun let go of the mic button and looked behind him, trying to find the once-target and his goons that we're just chasing them.

SMACK!

Renjun was now on the ground, rolling with someone else.

It ended with Renjun on top, ready to punch the shit out of what he thought was the target...ending up being the most beautiful girl he has ever seen.

A cut was right up above your eyebrow and you were trying to focus on what was on top of you. "Geez...you could atleast take me out to dinner first." You laughed and he looked back, seeing the men catching up.

"uh-i gotta go." He stood up but you were being dragged. Your bracelet was caught on his bullet proof vest.

He picked you up by your arms and linked your hands. "Don't talk. Don't ask questions. Run." Was all he said and he heard Jeno yell at him to hurry up.

You didn't waste any time and just followed, your chain bracelet starting to break from the constant tugging.

Chenle's van pulled up at the end of the street and Jeno was already in the back, his hand out to grab Renjun and you who was forced to tag along.

"Jump." And the next thing you know, you were both in the back of the van, speeding off on the road.

"Wow I have to get in shape." You groaned, chest heaving in and out quickly.

You sat up on the floor of the van to see 2 rows of boys just staring back at you.

"'sup." You head nodded and only some responded.

"I don't think this was in protocol. Is there a chapter for this in the handbook-" "Ji...calm down." The boy you were stuck to said. "I ran into-" "y/n." You responded and you could see a small smile work onto his lips as his head was down and trying to break you guys apart. "I ran into y/n...and we got stuck. I just picked her up and ran." The boy shrugged.

You looked around and saw guns and computers. "You guys cops or something?" You asked and someone from the driver seat spoke up. "Something." He said and you nodded. "Well...that's dope."

"Where can we drop you off?" The boy asked and you shrugged. "Anywhere. I just roam so I'll find my house eventually." You smiled and he nodded slowly.

You watched as you were taken through multiple back roads until the van suddenly stopped and the back doors opened. "Well it was nice meeting you all." You said as you crawled to the back doors, getting out quickly.

Renjun smiled, setting his hand down on the floor and it landing on a piece of paper.

He turned it over

'call me sometime, 010 xxx-xxx-xxxc :))'

He looked up to see your timid smile and Jaemin staring at you. "You're kinda cute. My name is Jae. But you can call me your other half." Jaemin sent his hand out for a handshake.

Renjun wanted to punch Jaemin in the side but was highly satisfied when he watched you look at the awaiting hand and started to close the back doors yourself.

"I ain't fuckin' with you."

#nct #nct mafia au #nct 127 #nct mafia #nct dream #nct renjun #nct dream renjun #huang renjun #nct huang renjun #renjun #nct imagine #nct dream mafia #nct dream jisung #nct dream reactions #nct dream jaemin #kpop mafia au #kpop mafia

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carterhartful · 5 years ago

Text

Work Calls and Coverups; Jack Hughes

Requested: no BUT PLEASE SEND SOME

Word count: 1.2k

Type: smut

Notes: so this my third imagine and my second jack Hughes one, and there’s no like full smut but like this is my first smut ish thing so suffer with me🦋

You sat uncomfortably on the stool at the sparkling granite countertop, but could not figure out what to do in the very rare occasion of the Hughes house being mostly empty and calm. You were bored out of your mind as you watched the seconds on the clock tick by on the sleek clock, as your mind swirled blankly. Soon after, Jack had wandered into the kitchen making his way towards the fridge in search of some fruit.

You sprung up from your position wanting to do something with him to liven up the plain day.

"Are you doing anything right now Jack?" You questioned spinning him around and lightly grabbing his hands, a giddy smile spread across your lips. Your heart raced with excitement in hopes of a

'nothing' for a response.

"Doing important work emails for the draft on my laptop, but I can come sit with you if you want?" He offered in hopes of helping the situation, not being able to get out of the work he was given. But only a tight lipped smile spread across your face, since you weren't surprised but were also not necessarily happy with the answer. Jack's face contorted to an apologetic frown, feeling guilty about the situation.

"Sure, I guess that works." You had sounded upset, but it wasn't as bad you seemed, you were honestly happy with him just being around you with his glowing presence.

"Okay, I'm sorry we couldn't do anything today baby girl. Maybe tomorrow." He offered sincerely hoping that would cheer up your mood a little bit, and get the beaming smile that he fell in love with back on your face.

"Sounds like a plan." You were truly pleased with the word of hanging out with the love of your life, just sitting around and doing nothing would've done the job too. But today you were up for something else.

As Jack quickly gathered his things from his bedroom, bring them to the counter, you had thought of stuff the both of you could do while just in the kitchen. Some stuff came to mind. Then other stuff came to mind. You had decided on option two.

As the boy had sat down with his laptop and tangled cords set in front of him as he had soon gotten back down to business and opened the next email, you had walked up behind him and placed your hands around his neck, giving him a sweet hug from behind. You then turned your head and put your lips to his neck in the most gentle and grazing manner, leaving him wanting more. As soon as he had turned around in hopes of continuing, his phone began to ring, indicating that it was an important call with the Devils management.

He paused in his motions to pick up the call, swiftly putting the phone to his ear ready for a meeting.

You internally had produced a deep groan of annoyance, being interrupted.

"Hello, this is Jack Hughes speaking?"

You could hear the sense of seriousness he had tried to use in order to cover up the playfulness his natural tone gives off, really wanting to be on the Devils good side, in hopes of the number one pick.

Spinning back around, he had locked his eyes back onto the bright pixelated screen, now deep into the conversation he was having.

But you wanted to continue. As he had exchanged important words with the other man, you had once again wrapped your hands around his neck, spinning him forewords and out of the trance of the computer.

He raised an eyebrow as he had taken in the words from the other end of the line, but still confused on what you were doing. You soon proved your point when you had repeated your actions from before, and had started to leave purple mark on his neck. Once you had done that, he understood what you had been going at, and shook the thought in his head away as he focused back on the call. You soon pulled away and needed something new to get his attention. You took a moment, stepping back casually and think about the possibilities.

Your mind quickly sprung to an idea as a smirk covered your face, your boyfriend raising an eyebrow at you. Leaning forewords, you placed a silent soft kiss on his lips, as you slowly lifted your legs one at a time until you were straddling the boy who had a look that said 'oh god' written all over it.

You go to place a gentle and seductive kiss on his jawline, feeling him try to slightly distance his face from yours so he would be able to act normally. His plan not working.

Jack was trying his hardest to pay attention to every detail and word that the man had said as you schemed, but his brain just wouldn't work properly.

But from your view he hadn't seemed to be affected by you, so you decided to kick it up a notch. What you had been doing was really risky, not knowing whether jack would get really mad at you or not but you felt like being dangerous. Next thing you knew, your hands working without your mind, you were gently palming the boy through his jeans.

At that moment you could hear Jack's breath hitch, his eyes going wide in worry. In the silence you could hear the man repeat the question waiting for an answer.

Jack had struggled to get the words to come out.

"Y-yes S-sir," his stutter had cracked you up, seeing the affect you had.

"I'd appreciate that very much, thankyou"

You had advanced wanting to see how far you could go, your next step to pull down his jeans leaving him in his boxers. Jack's breathing had sped up immensely as you had just placed your hand over him again.

You had only started your job and you could hear the breathy held in moans, that had been muffled under his breath as best as possible.

"Thank you, once again, for speaking with me." Jack had shared as he seemed to be at the end of the phone call.

"No problem, but nice try, go have some fun with that girlfriend of yours." He said with a laugh attached.

“Thank you, have a good day” Jack finished as he hung up the phone right after. He placed the phone on the table before turning back to you, sliding his hands around your waist, reaching your ass, giving a firm squeeze.

“If I don’t go first overall you are in so much trouble baby girl” he teased before having the real fun of the night.

#jack imagine #jack hughes imagine #j.hughes imagine #jack #jack hughes #hughes #work calls and coverups #carthartful #imagine #smut #j.hughes

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shiwshie · 3 years ago

Text

101 THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY S/O

(not in order)

1. oldie

2. libra aheee

3. black hoodies shet

4. when she wears white >3<

5. hot and sexy

6. music taste ugh

7. knowledge for computers and gadgets dang

8. taller than me but definitely not tall

9. nonstop tease

10. love language < 3

11. she loves me!

12. caring

13. soft for me

14. her love for friends

15. the one you can count on everytime

16. down bad for you

17. her efforts!

18. her typings mami

19. filo vibes lmao

20. knows lots of filo words

21. when she calls me baby, mahal, dumbass and other endearments

22. chubi smoochies cheeks mwa

23. dirty talks heheh

24. sends thirst vids

25. her wavy hair

26. personality

27. the way she talks

28. her voice, send again pls

29. video spams spams of her and selfies

30. tough but needs to be babied still

31. unique ways of expressing herself

32. when she argues with me, dang turns me on

33. the assurance she always give

34. comfort person

35. really cool

36. her confidence 💀

37. her money /hj

38. bite, markings

39. big spoon ha

40. soft for cattosss

41. takes care of our babies really well

42. loves oreo

43. when she still talks to me in the middle of her work *screams*

44. makes time for me and gives her all attention to me

45. messy

46. her flirty words

47. mommy material 😋

48. her potipoti my fave lollipop

49. can pull being a hot daddæ and sexi mommæ

50. her ports, most especially ryujin

51. never failed to make me feel loved

52. kilig kilig

53. respectful

54. always neat and clean

55. doesn't drink, doesn't smoke

56. knows me too well

57. the never ending asking if i'm feeling better

58. listens to me when i rant and vent

59. understands me even i don't make sense sometimes

60. tries her best to comfort me

61. the emojis she used especially 🤤 and ☠

62. "you wish" "no bye"

63. her expressions, like hOLY SHIT

64. willing to do anything or even nonsense things with me

65. her patience to me, even she doesn't have it but.. she doesn't have a choice either

66. the way she worries about me huhuh

67. when she got curious

68. confuses over my pick up lines

69. the perfect person at the perfect yet unexpected time

70. her name

71. when she updates me

72. her capital HAHAHAHAAH or just her laugh

73. the playlist she made for me acccxk

74. her other playlists too dang mommy

75. well devoted on her studies

78. her sexy codings

79. her i love you's

80. always reminds me

81. her cuddlesss

82. kisses!! and more than that hmmm

83. my top

84. also my bott- i mean dominant okay

85. when she makes me grumpy

86. when she's grumpy ♡♡♡

87. her sufferings everytime we- yknow already

88. sometimes sweet sometimes mean, but most of the time a TEASE grrr

89. when i turned her on awishshah

90. when she posts about me, interacts and flirts with me in comments < 3

91. when she sends tiktok vids

92. her my days about me awiwhsjsaaa

93. when she suddenly sends spotify link song for me 94. goods at gaming and the best shooter, chicken dinner or nah 95. fast hands urgh 96. kinda aggressive in a gentle manner sjsns 97. talented af! skater and drummer 98. knows cycling and driving 99. her layouts may it be twitter or fb 100. her aesthetic

101. literally everything about her

that's not even enough because i know there's a lot of things about her in the back of my mind that i haven't put into words and i yet to discover. i'd like to know more of her and love them with me. i wanna memorize her and encounter her every side. i love her so much.

0 notes

tea-and-toblerones · 7 years ago

Text

Loose Change Chapter Two- I'd Love To Pop Some Tags But I've Only Got A Fiver In My Pocket

After much anticipation, chapter two is now complete! As always feedback is appreciated! I thrive off it. So, with out further ado...

I sat at my designated table, furiously scribbling notes as a way to past the time until I closed up shop. My books spread out across the surface, highlighters of every color littered between my books and notebooks. I chewed on the top of the pen as I read, something I did when I was super focused, unaware of it until the cram sessions was over. I put my pen down, rubbing my eyes as the words on the page began to blur. There was a couple patrons scattered amongst the shop, most in the same situation I was. I didn't notice how late it had gotten until they apologised for staying over closing hours as they paid for their drinks. I waved them off, bidding them a good rest of their night. I flip the open light off, before making myself a fresh cup of coffee before plopping back down at my table. I took a sip of my coffee before picking up my pen and I trudged along, deciding to finish the chapter before heading home. I heard the door creak open timidly, my eyes dragging away from the page to see Ed's face peering in.

"Er...can I come in?" His face the definition of uncertainty as he lingered, half in half out. "I know the sign says closed but...I thought I'd stop in and see how you were doing."

"Hey stranger!" My bright tone echoing through the quiet shop, "Sure, you can come in. Just do me a favor and lock the door behind you." My eyes dropping back to the page picking up where I left off, "You know you can come in while we're open right? You don't have to wait until we're closed or people leave."

I heard the door open and close again, the soft clunk of metal on wood told me he had brought his guitar case in. My eyes leaving the page again to see him stripping off his hoodie, one of the tshirts I had gave him was underneath. He scooped up his bag and case as he made his way across the room, grimacing every time his case brushed against a chair, a muttered sorry after every one. As silly as it sounded I couldn't tell if they were towards me or the chairs.

"I can't really buy anything, isn't that just loitering at that point?" Setting his stuff down beside my table.

"All you'd have to do is order water." I tell him, shuffling through the notes I made during the lecture, "Either way I wouldn't kick you out. Loads of people come in here just to study." Switching my pen out for the highlighter, dragging it across a couple choice phrases.

"Oh...I didn't realise you were busy..." His tone caused me to look up, soft and almost regretful, "I could go so you can finish studying." His hand resting on the back of the chair, caught between pulling it out.

"No, stay." I brought my foot up, giving the chair a slight push outwards, "I haven't talked to you for a while. I want to catch up. I'll be done real soon."

He slowly sat down, taking extra care to keep his hand off the table, resting them in his lap. I wonder if he was a fidgeter? Or was he worried he's mess up my clearly organized stack? Either way, his hands remained off the table, moving from his knees to under his armpits as he crossed his arms. We hadn't physically sat down and had a full conversation in a couple weeks. Our main form of communication had been notes passed between one another when I stopped by to drop off some form of food and a a buck or two. At least enough to cover his bus fare. Most of the time his notes consisted of just some sort of ridiculous commentary on the meal and what sort of interesting stuff happened during the day. For example yesterday's drop off was two pb and jelly sandwiches. The note I had today, scribbled on a piece of a brown paper sack ' I butter thank for the sandwich, they really got me out of a jam' then went on to talk about how Americans were an odd bunch, holding conversations with complete strangers.

At first I left notes asking if he needed specific things, mostly in the apparel department since we were still in the middle of quite a cold snap. He conveniently ignored that part of the note, just thanked me for the meals and proceeded to tell me about how he shared his fries with an angry looking pigeon that he was pretty sure would actually fight him over them and he wasn't sure he'd win. 'Best to stay on their good side. I don't need to piss off the birds. There's too many to fight, innit? Think you could put a good word in for me?' If I hadn't gotten a slight glimpse at his off the wall oddball humor, I'd think he was raving. I came to the conclusion he would never out right ask for certain things, it would be up to me to just guess what he would need.

He craned his neck, skimming over the upside down text, "This system you got here is really something." I could hear the wonder in his voice, I didn't need to look up to know his expression matched, "Don't most people type everything digitally now? This seems complicated and kinda unnecessary."

"Mhmm? Oh, no, it helps the info stick in my brain better than typing it all out. Call me old fashioned I guess but nothing beats the feeling of a pen gliding over the paper, your hand creating the words. Plus the feel of paper under your fingertips. Sorry, having it on a computer just doesn't work for me."

There was a smile that crossed his face. "I completely agree with you. Nothing will replace handwriting everything. Things just seem to flow easier when you use a pen. Which is why I write everything instead of type." He paused, his smile turning sheepish, "Well that and the fact I can't really afford a computer. Which is a good thing, really. Means I'm not likely to get targeted for a mugging."

I feel my eyebrows draw together as I tear my eyes away from the page. He seemed completely relaxed, his head bobbing around to some beat trapped in his head as he looked around the room. When his eyes settled on me he seemed slightly surprised at my gaze.

"Ed, be straight with me. Have you been mugged?" My concern ringing true as I stared him down. There's almost no way he's be able to handle himself in a fight. He just seemed so fragile.

"Look at me Cassidy. Does it look like I'm that well off? Do I look like I'd have anything of value?" His arms spreading wide to emphasize his point. " No. I look fairly second hand. Not worth a second glance."

He had a point. He did look pretty down on his luck. Everything he had was noticeably second hand and heavily worn. He was right, he didn't look like someone that would have anything of value. Nothing worth fighting over. Even his pack had seen better days. It was this frayed army green canvas pack, the leather straps that held it closed shown obvious wear, the holes were stretched out from the use. The whole thing looked like it was one good tug away from coming apart. The guitar case however was still in pretty good condition, apart from a couple scratches and scuff marks. It appeared that he took better care of it than he did himself.

"Well, you've got that fancy guitar. That's worth something to a strung out junkie looking for something to sell for his next fix." I point out, causing his mouth to come down in a frown.

"That is true." He pondered, his hand rubbing his chin, "But Cyril is pretty battered. You're not gonna get much out of him. He's about as broken down as I am." His fingers opening the clasps with fluidity that comes from the repetitive act. He pulled it free from its felt nest, giving it an almost loving strum, "I'm afraid he's only priceless to me."

I hadn't noticed as he played, my gaze was usually drawing to his fingers or just him in general has he bounced around. I never focused on the guitar itself. The finish had began to chip away, from the use. There were scratches covering the face of it and the back of it was a disaster zone of criss crossed scratches, most likely caused from the zipper of his jacket grinding into it. The tuning keys had lost their luster, dulled by the constant turning. He was right, It had seen better days.

"Still...just be careful okay? Some will scope you out for days, waiting for a really good haul then make their move." I could hear my tone slipping into lecture mode, the same I used with the kids I worked with.

"Aw, geez, you make it seem like I walk around with my head in the clouds." I could see that mischievous glint in his eye as he leaned forward, "You forget, I've been doing this for years now. I've gots some streets smarts by now."

I closed my book, deciding then and there nothing else was going to get done. "Don't take this the wrong way Ed but...you sorta come off as naive..."

"Yeah? So? What's wrong with that? Coming off as naive and being naive are two different things you know." I had expected him to be angry or at least annoyed, yet he seemed like he was enjoying himself, that smile still on his face, "There's nothing wrong with seeing the good in people."

"Yeah, but, aren't you worried that someone's going to come along and take advantage of your good nature?"

"If they do, it'll be a lesson learnt won't it? Even if it was the hard way, I'd've learnt something." That easy smile still across his face. It seemed nothing I threw at him was phasing him. Suddenly he straightened up from his relaxed pose, "I almost forgot, I came in for a reason!" His words tumbling out in an excited rush.

"Oh, so it wasn't just to talk philosophical views?" I tease as I cram books into my bag, "What's up?"

"I've got a gig." He was positively beaming now

"And you lead with questions about my study techniques?!" I squealed, as I knocked my bag to the floor, "That's great! When?! Where?!"

"An open mic night at...shit what was the name again..." He began rummaging through his bag, pulling out a wrinkled flyer, "The City?"

He passed the flyer over to me with a shrug. My eyes skimmed over it, nodding as I read it. I passed it back to him, watching as he crammed it back into his pack. "I've heard of a lot about City. Never been, but it pretty popular on campus."

"You know what type of vibe it has? So I know what I'm getting into?" I could see a bit of worry starting to settle behind those eyes.

"How 'bout this. We'll go drop in and get a feel of the crowd. That way when the night comes, you won't be worried about what songs you should choose."

"Okay...yeah...that's not a bad idea." He perked up at this, his smile quickly returning, "Okay, yeah. We'll think of it as recon." His transparent eyebrows wiggling. "God, you make it seem so sinister." I couldn't help but laugh as his lopsided grin as he waved me off, "All we're doing is checking it out. It's not like we're doing anything bad."

"The music industry is tough." His voice had lost all of the playfulness it had, replaced with a more sober tone, "Honestly, a tiny little thing like reading a crowd wrong could make or break me. This could be what gets my name out there and it could either be, 'Oh yeah, that Ed Sheeran, he's a real wanker playing that coffee house music at night club or Hey, That Ed kid, he's pretty good. Got a couple songs that really grab ya."

I could tell he was getting up in his head, planting seeds of doubt already. He had found one of my pens, twirling it between his fingers as he thought. I knew had to feel like he was balancing on the edge of a sword, one mistake would be all it would take to send him tumbling down. I needed to get him out of that mindset and fast. Nothing good would come from it.

"Hey, we've got a week. One week to get you prepared." My attempt at cheering him up seemed to fall a bit flat, earning me a half nod, "Look, we'll meet here tomorrow and go check it out."

"I would feel better about it if I knew what I was getting into." He may not have been smiling but he seemed in better spirits. "Tomorrow it is."

He had hung around a bit longer, turning down my offer to come back to my place for a shower and proper dinner. I did however, convince him to take a couple sandwiches, which he thanked me for and added that I really did spoil him. If this was spoiled I shudder to think of how bad off he was before I stepped in. He gave me an awkward sort of wave before turning away, adjusting his pack and heading in the opposite direction. It wasn't until I got home that I realised the busses had stopped running and he most likely walked all the way back to wherever it was he was sleeping. It couldn't have been too far since he was always at his spot by 7:45. All I could hope was that wherever he was staying was at least sheltered and he wasn't too terribly hungry. *********************************************** After a long and frustrating day I gladly flicked the open sign off, turning back towards Ed, who had settled in the corner, scribbling furiously in a small brown leather bound notebook. I remember spotting it when he was pulling his clothes out, it tumbled out, flopping out on my floor open for the world to read. He didn't snatch it up quickly, which lead me to believe that it didn't hold anything particularly personal. Once I asked him if he was ready, it snapped closed and returned to the depths of his belongings. We stopped by the apartment to drop of his guitar and bag, deciding that it would just be too much of a hassle to carry around. There was a definite reluctance, even when I assured him that if Lucca did swing by, she wouldn't touch it. I couldn't say I blamed him for his wariness. That was literally everything he owned. I would probably be just as worried as he seemed to be, leaving it a fairly unfamiliar place. He seemed satisfied with them tucked away in my closet.

If it wasn't for the group of people that had gathered outside planning that night's bar crawl, I would have thought we were at the wrong place. The outside of the building gave off an abandoned factory vibe. Really, this is the place that people keep raving about? Ed must have sensed my hesitation since he grabbed onto my sleeve, pulling me toward him and away from the door.

"I know this is the address he gave me but...are you positive this is the right place?" He sounded a bit worried, that little crease forming on his forehead.

I glanced at the building, completely understanding his doubt. It definitely didn't give off the new hip bar on the scene vibe, more of a hey this is where cows come to be turned into burgers and steak. I know you should never judge a book by its cover but come on, they could have spruced up the place a bit. I caught my bottom lip between my teeth.

"Yeah, this is the address that both you gave and google gave me..." I turned my eyes away from the building and back to him, his expression mirroring my own, "Okay, what exactly did he tell you?"

"That Thursday was like a trial run and if he likes me, most likely if the crowd likes me, he'll pay me to come in regularly a perform." He let a breath out through his nose, "Sorry I can't be more help, I couldn't wait around any longer to see if he replied again with anything extra..."

"Hold up, wait around any longer?" I could feel my face scrunch up in confusion, "Why didn't you just call him?"

"I don't really have that kinda change lying about y'know..." His eyes dropping to the ground as he shuffled a bit. Then it clicked.

"You don't have a phone do you?"

"Nope."

Of course he doesn't have a phone. How would he pay for it. I felt like an idiot, I was so used to phones being almost a necessity nowadays that it didn't even cross my mind that some people don't have them. Still, one thing about that bothered me.

"How do you talk to your family then?"

"Oh, emails. I use email for practically everything. The library lets you use their computers as long as you have a card. Which was a handy thing I learnt at the shelter." He cleared his throat, ready to change the subject off of him, "Alright, well, you ready to see if we we're being pranked or not?"

"Lead the way."

We weaved our wave through the crowd, finally spotting the sign above the door that read The City. He pushed the door open and I followed him inside, almost running into when he stopped suddenly in his tracks. With good reason. It was quick to see why it was called The City, the walls were comprised of graffiti covered brick, bright and in your face. There was actual stop lights hanging from the ceiling, the floor made to look like a road. The furniture was chic and the bar was lit with bright rope lights of reds and blues. There was so much going on, it was chaotic, it was alive, it was insane. There was only one problem.

"Cassidy...there is no way I'll be able to perform in these clothes...I want to stick out but not in this way..." People weren't exactly dressed to the nines but they were definitely not a hoodie and frayed jeans type. He turned to me, a worried look back on his face, "What are we going to do?"

"Well, first, we're gonna go find ourselves a table. Oh, they have food..." My eyes zeroing in on a girl chowing down on a huge slice of pizza, "Alright we're gonna get a table and we're gonna get us some food and we'll go on from there."

To be honest, I really didn't have much of a plan. I figured once we got here, it would all fall into place but all I was feeling right now was uncomfortable, like I didn't exactly belong here. They had the hustle and bustle down. I couldn't help but wonder if it was because it was new or because they had something special that others didn't. I spotted a table close to the stage, which was quite a bit bigger than I had initially anticipated. It must have been bigger than Ed thought to since I heard him whistle.

"That's a stage, I wasn't expecting ...jesus..." he said, full of awe. His eyes held a wistful look. "A proper stage...wow..."

After a good bit of people watching and some surprisingly fantastic food we had finally settled on a game plan. There was a bit of doubt, no, a lot of doubt on his end, especially the longer we stayed. When he discovered that they had had some pretty well known bands grace the stage all his confidence had went out the window.

"How am I supposed to compete with acts like that? Christ, I'm fucked before I've even had a chance." He moaned, stabbing a couple fries in the mountain of ketchup dismalily

"Are you kidding? Ed, you've hit gold here." I glance around to make sure nobody was within ear shot, just to be safe I leaned in, "You've got a bunch of pretentious people who thrive on up and coming musicians. They're going to eat you up."

"Yeah and probably spit me out. Come on Cassidy, I'm not ready for something like this."

"Stop with the negatives and what could go wrong and focus on what could go right. You're worried about your clothes? We'll get you new clothes. That's no issue."

"How? I've got-" He dug in his pockets, before realising they were empty. His eyes screwed shut as he thought, "A fiver and whatever change is in my rucksack."

"Well then, it's time to introduce you one of my favorite places. Thrift shops. They're insanely cheap and you can store them in my closet." I could see the hesitation in his eyes and I already knew that he view that more as a luxury. Perhaps he was right. "Look, I can get them for you. I'm positive I can get you a good looking outfit for under 15 bucks."

"I couldn't, that's too much, you've already done too much."

"If you're that worried about it, pay me back when you're rich and famous."

We wrapped things up and headed out once it hit one in the morning. I was shocked I had actually stayed up that late and Ed looked like he could go on for hours more. I wondered if he was used to getting little sleep, always sleeping on the edge, prepared for the worst. After a lot of persistence, I had finally persuaded him to stay on my couch again, planning to hit the thrift shops in the morning. I had half expected him to complain about not performing but he surprised me with his ready acceptance. It wasn't until I was in half asleep did I think that his quick agreement could have been a farce and that, like last time, he'd sneak out before I woke up. Yet, when I woke up, there he was, curled in a tight ball, the blanket pulled tight across his body, his mouth slightly open as a light snore filled the silence. ********************************************* "Oh mah GAWD, look at this!"

I heard Ed's voice calling out from a couple racks down, his head popping up, grinning from ear to ear. He was holding up the most atrocious looking bright blue paisley plaid button up that would surely haunt my dreams for weeks to come. I could only stare at him in silence, my mouth trying to form the words why and what, most likely leaving me looking like a gaping fish. He chuckled as he placed it back on the rack, satisfied with my reaction. For a split second I wasn't sure if he was seriously contemplating it or not. We had been browsing for about an hour now and in that hour I had gathered that this boy had absolutely no fashion sense at all. I decided to take up the role of personal shopper, which he said made him feel like a toff and a bit of a wanker. He had made it his mission to find every ridiculous article of clothing he could get his hands on and proudly show them off. The bigger the reaction, the bigger the smile was.

"Hey, Cass, do you mind if I call you Cass?" I shrugged, "Wicked. Look at these trainers. They're nicer than what I've got and they're cheap."

He was clutching a new looking pair of shoes, orange with three white stripes. I glanced down as his ragged, brown but not originally brown shoes. The soles had started to peel away from the material and I could remember seeing every pair of his socks having brown stains where water had leaked in. I nod my head to the cart.

"Alright, put em in. You can't keep walking around with those dead fishing smelling things you call shoes. I'm shocked your feet haven't fell off your body, to be honest with you."

His lip pulled pout in a pout as he placed them in the cart. "That's mean, my feet don't smell that bad." "I said your shoes smelled bad." I clarified as I held out a plain black sweater to his chest, eyeballing the fit before throwing it in the cart.

"I'll get hot in that on stage. Those lights put out a lot of heat."

"Who said it was for just stage? It's cold. A sweater or two wouldn't kill you. Neither would a coat."

He stopped in the middle of the racks and I didn't notice until I had turned around to ask him his opinion on a shirt. He just stared down at the floor, the most pathetic look across his face. Even his hair seemed to lose a bit of its spunk, wilting a bit.

"This was just supposed to be for performances. One or two outfits so I wouldn't look like a tramp on stage...You've got almost a cartful...Cass...I can't take-"

"Yes, yes you can." I said simply, cutting off the rest of his sentence, "Stop thinking you don't deserve things because you live on the street." I threw a pair of jeans into the cart with a bit more force than I anticipated, "I'm sick of you thinking you're less than a person. I don't know who made you think that, but I'm sorry. You're a human being. You deserve to have things like coats and warm clothes. Those aren't luxuries Ed. They're things that most people take for granted. So stop thinking you don't deserve the basic necessities."

"Why me though? They're are plenty of people on the streets." He sounded less broken, but still dejected. I breath heavily out my nose. "Every person out there with their battered sign all tell the same story. It may be worded different, but its still the same story. Hungry, homeless, give me money. Some sob story to tug on the heart strings of others. It could be true and that money could go towards a hot meal. Or it could go straight into their veins or up their nose. You though...you don't ask for money. You stand out there, with your signs that say such positive things, playing your music, making that corner of the city a brighter place. You could sing about your troubles and really hit people with a well crafted sob story in the form of a song. But you don't."

He sat in silence for a moment, mulling over everything I said. "Thanks for that...I needed to hear it. Sorry for being a downer..."

He seemed to perk up a bit, finding this flannel looking hoodie, tossing it into the cart. After another half an hour we had made not one but two complete laps around the store. There was a few more ridiculous finds, we had decided to wrap it up and head home. As I was pulling out my card to pay and Ed placed the bags in the cart, I heard the lady behind us make a snide comment to her shopping partner about how he should feel like less of a man for a woman buying his clothes. I had seen them throwing looks our way as we browsed, muttering under their breath and I had had enough.

I slapped my card down on the counter, whirling around to see, yet again, a hurt looking Ed, his hand hovering over one of the bags. "Excuse me," I smiled the biggest, falsest smile I could muster, "but I think I found your nose in our business. So how this. Why don't you collect it and your bad attitude, shove it in your designer bag and move right on along." I spun on my heel, thanking the cashier for my card, bidding them a good day, snatching the bags out of the cart, brushing past the ladies, "May Karma bless you three fold."

I walked out, Ed almost having to jog to keep up with me as I made my way across the lot. "The nerve of them." I tug my trunk lid up and start throwing bags in, "Just who do they think they are? Seriously."

"Cass, it's okay, really." I could tell he was just trying to calm me down, although it was having the opposite effect.

"No, it's not okay. Nothing gives a person the right to say such ridiculous things for the sole purpose of hurting someone."

"But it is pathetic Cass.” He shrugged, seemly undefeated, “I should be able to pay for my own clothes. It is what it is. I'm grateful and I really don't care what a couple of strange old women, who we'll never see again, think. It shows their character, not ours." His eyebrow cocked upwards, "Though I will say, you handled that quite well."

"I have to deal with a lot of angry parents. And kids. It's a skill i've developed over the years of working at the summer camp." I slam my trunk closed, "Pushing that aside, we can get these back to my place, throw them in the wash, Yes, I'm washing them," I saw his mouth fly open, in protest, "After that, all you'll need to focus on is what you'll play."

"Oh, all I'll need to do. That's only the hardest part." A smirk creeping across his face, "We've got a little less than a week to prepare. Plenty of time to come up with some sort of set list." His hands rubbing together, "Now the real work begins."

#ed sheeran #teddy sheeran #code ginger #ed sheeran fanfic #Ed sheeran fan fic #fanfic #ed sheeran fan fiction #original writing

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unavenged-robin · 8 years ago

Note

Are you still taking family prompts? If so, I'd love to read something for “Here, I’ll zip you up.” with Tim and Damian :) Love your writing and your blog!!

I’m always taking prompts :D And thank you very much, I had a lot of fun writing this and I really hope you like it!

Read on AO3

It’s one of those weeks - you know the ones.

It starts with three WE accountants turning rogue. It’s honestly more annoying than surprising, since it’s almost Christmas and there are a lot of year-end financial statements to be done. And, still in the name of honesty, Tim’s already done enough of them to understand how someone could think that turning to crime would be a better life choice.By thursday the head of HR starts her own crime empire, and when they schedule a meeting about it everybody in the department claims that they knew she’d end up doing something like that, what with all the pictures of the Joker on her desk, and Tim has to make a tremendous effort not to point out that maybe, maybe, that issue should’ve been brought up before their boss started robbing banks.

Today is - thankgodforsmallmercies - friday, and in the morning someone in the technical department decided it was a good day to bring their expertise to Two Face’s business. Tim didn’t even ask about details, just marched into his own office, shut the door behind him, and let the police deal with it. In a few hours he’ll go home, put on the Red Robin costume and go help them anyway.“Don’t you check these people background before hiring them?” Damian asks, sitting at Tim’s desk, surrounded by piles of books taller than him. He looks like a baby accountant from hell, what with the suit and the scowl and his feet not reaching the floor and the embezzlement of everything Tim owns, but the desk and the computer and the pens really are a small price to pay for his help, as much as Tim hates to admit it.

And it’s not like he didn’t ask literally anyone else before deciding to put away both his pride and his survival instinct and recruit Damian to help him with this mess, but Bruce is in Hong Kong with Alfred and Cass, and Dick had smiled apologetically at him and said something like “sorry, I’m not so good with numbers, little bird” - and well, Tim knows it’s not really true but also true enough not to push. Jason could help - Tim knows he could, because as much as the bastard likes to play dumb they both know he’s really not - but when asked he just laughed to his face. Barbara didn’t laugh but was already overwhelmed with her work, and Stephanie had blatantly thrown a piece of her waffle at him.

So yeah, his thirteen year old ex-assassin little brother was basically the most qualified and experienced of them, and the only one that actually agreed to help - although not without a little convincing and blackmailing, but yeah, Tim was borderline desperate there.

“You know we do”, he answers absent-mindedly, sitting on the floor with his laptop on his crossed legs and reaching for a book from one of his own piles. “We have one of the most strict job screening process in the city, as a matter of fact.”

“It’s obviously inefficient”, Damian retorts. And well, he’s not wrong. Then again, this is Gotham, and in Gotham sometimes perfectly normal people turn into criminals out of nowhere. It’s just a fact.

“So what do you propose? A trial by combat?”, Tim snaps, without really meaning it. He’s tired. Having to pull double shifts both at WE - to cover for the fugitive staff - and as Red Robin - to cover Batman’s absence - means that he’s getting so little sleep that he’s actually beginning to be affected by it, and since his sleeping schedule has never been anything less than disastrous, that’s literally saying something.

Damian shoots him a disdainful look but doesn’t start a fight like he would normally do, and Tim realizes with a pang of guilt that Damian and Robin are both pulling the same hours as he is, and if Tim is wrecked by it, than he can’t even begin to imagine how the brat’s still standing (or, well, still sitting straight at least).

He ventures an attentive glance in Damian’s direction for the first time today and, yeah, it’s not good. Chin resting on his hand and lips tightly pressed together, the kid has dark bags under his eyes, and despite the furrowed brow Tim can see his eyelashes dropping while he reads. Under them, his eyes are red and swollen, and that’s mostly Damian’s own fault because when Tim offered him his reading glasses not only had the demon spawn refused, but he’d been also very descriptive about what he would do with them if Tim had dared to insinuate doubts about his perfect vision again. Still, the pang of guilt becomes a stab wound and Tim clears his throat.

“I’m getting some coffee, you want something?”, he offers.

“Tt.”

“Tea it is, then”, Tim decides, standing up and sending his laptop crashing on the floor at the same time.

“Shit.”

Damian, never one to be too tired to mock one of his siblings when fair mocking is in order, snorts at him.

“Shut up!”, Tim shouts, kneeling down to pick the computer up, then he takes a look at the cracked screen and at the notifications that just popped up and swears again. “Shit, shit, shit!”

This time Damian only huffs.

“You have dozen of laptops laying around”, the brat reminds him. “Quit being a whiny baby about it and go back to work.”

“It’s not the computer, it’s the press conference”, Tim explains in a frustrated sigh. “The one we’re supposing to have right now. Jesus, why didn’t you remind me? Why nobody reminded me?”

“Do I look like your secretary, Drake?”, Damian asks, sounding genuinely offended, but Tim can see the guilt flashing behind his eyes. He forgot too. Good. One thing less the little demon will be able to use against him once Bruce comes back and asks for a report. “As for the last surviving minions you call staff, they called themselves sick right after the tech maniac burned half the computers as an homage to Two Faces.”

“Right. Okay. Fine”, Tim sighs. He takes a look at his watch, at the broken laptop, at Damian, and then at the watch again.

“We’re still in time to be fashionably late instead of just rude”, he decides, and in three swift motions he grabs his coat, Damian’s jacket and the brat’s hand and heads for the door. “Let’s go.”

Damian stumbles behind him, caught off guard by the sudden gesture, and they’re almost at the elevators before he regains enough composure to curse at him.

“Yeah, yeah”, Tim answers, completely unimpressed, and steps into the cabin. “Just put your coat on, it’s freezing outside and the last thing I need is for you to get sick.”

He listens to a quite imaginative - although pretty short for Damian’s standards - string of insults with one hear while trying to put in order the bunch of post-it that are supposed to be his speech for today (not an easy task, what with them being all sticky and clinging on his fingers and on his jacket and on about everything else near him, grumpy demon spawn included).

He fishes out the last of them from the back pocket of his pants, removes another from Damian’s shoulder and once they hit the ground floor he’s pretty confident on having them all collected (and if not, well, he’s very good at improvising).

The first thing he notices when he steps out of the elevator is that between the police, the journalists, the receptionists and the now officeless IT crew, the atrium is pretty much packed with people. The second thing he notices is that Damian’s not behind him anymore.

“Damian?”

He looks around and finds him still by the elevators, slouched against a wall, trying to support himself with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other. Tim quickly retraces his steps and he’s already reaching out to him when Damian raises his head and shoots him a poisonous glare.

“I’m fine”, he growls, and immediately straightens himself up. “Let’s go.”

The brat stiffly walks past him, and Tim hesitates, torn between a rancorous whatever and a more indulgent understanding. Being a brother is not an easy job, but being Damian’s brother is something else entirely. And that means he needs to be smart about this.

Walking besides him, Tim lets the kid reach the entrance, then puts a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Put your coat on”, he repeats, and Damian turns around, probably to snap at him again, but Tim tilts his head in the direction of the crowd of journalists waiting beyond the glass doors and just a few feet from them.

Damian glares both at them and at him, for a few seconds seems to consider punching Tim anyway, then he growls and caves in and Tim feels himself frowning a bit more at the way the kid’s tired fingers fumble with the buttons of his coat.

Sighing, and praying Damian’s too tired to immediately react with the indignation he knows his gesture’s going to cause, Tim goes down on his knee in front of his younger brother.

“Here, I’ll zip you up”, he says out loud, for all the bystanders to hear (and also to remind Damian that there are bystanders).

Taken aback again - for the second time in less than ten minutes, Tim is definitely going to mark the day on his calendar - Damian only blinks and looks down at him.

“You do realize that my coat doesn’t have a zip, right?”

Tim scoffs, quickly finishes buttoning him up, then makes a show to adjust the collar of Damian’s jacket while grabbing it and pulling the kid closer to him.

“Shut it, baby Satan, and listen”, he retorts, lowering his voice to a conspiratory tone. “I’m stuck with this press bullshit thing but I need you to go back to my office and look at the surveillance videos from this morning. See if the tech psycho dropped any hint on where he was going to meet Two Faces. I forgot to do it and I don’t want the police to confiscate the videos before we look at them.”

“So you forgot to do your homework and I have to do it for you?”, Damian asks, raising an eyebrow, then he opens his mouth again to what Tim imagines is going to be a long, arrogant and contemptuous rant, and since he’s trying to be nice here and doesn’t want to have reasons to regret it, he cuts him off right away.

“You said you were going to help”, he reminds him. “And I still have that footage from the last time you snuck out with Jon. Bruce is not going to be happy about it.”

Damian closes his mouth and narrows his eyes in what he’d probably like to be another death glare, but truth to be told, he only looks sleepy as hell, with that frown and his puffy eyes and messy hair, and in a momentary lapse of reason Tim just really, really wants to hug him.

“Please”, he adds instead, and that kind of does the trick.

“You owe me, Drake”, Damian answers. “And I will collect.”

Tim solemnly nods and stands up again.

“I’ll be up in one hour top to help you, okay?”, he adds, just to steady his bluff.

As expected, Damian’s answer is less than polite.

The press conference ends two hours later, and when Tim finally goes back to his office he finds Damian exactly where he thought he’d be: asleep at his desk with the surveillance videos still running on the computer screen in front of him.

He weighs for a moment the idea of moving him from the desk to the couch - not because he cares about the demon spawn’s sleep but because his office chair is really comfy and he’d like to have it back after almost a week of sitting on the floor, thank you very much - but in the end he decides that it’s not really worth it. Damian deserves some sleep and Tim deserves some quiet.

So he walks towards the desk and just wraps his own coat around Damian’s shoulder. Noticing the pink flutter of one surviving post-it sticking from the back of his jacket, he picks it up, draws a smiley face on it and, after a moment of hesitation, gently pushes it against Damian’s forehead until it sticks there. Then, since the kid is still completely out of it and Tim’s tired and nowhere near a good night sleep, but mostly because whatever, he smiles too and ruffles his brother’s hair for good measure.

#tantalum-cobalt #tim drake #damian wayne #red robin #robin #prompt meme #inbox #my fic #shari writes

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