#tomorrow is my one year anniversary of returning to this shit job

[fereldanwench]

so i only do one office day a week now, which is still one more than i would ideally like, but it's fine. whatever

but it astounds me that pre-pandemic, i used to go into the office, do the 6:30ish AM to 5:30ish PM schedule 4 days, sometimes 5 days a week, and still do things in the afternoons

and like, high-energy, social things. i used to work out 3x a week immediately after work. i used to fuckin stream on twitch 2x a week right after work, for like 2-3 hours at a time

there is no way in hell i could do that these days--I'm sooooo beat down after being in the office and dealing with commuting and coworkers and harsh lighting

i just wanna get in bed with my cats and rewatch a show I've seen a million times and pass out

[ereardon]

Homecoming [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter 3

Summary: Returning home to California after six years abroad in England, you found everything has changed. Jake Seresin, your father's former college roommate and lifelong best friend, is now a widower and has purchased a new vineyard in Montecito, only a few miles from your childhood home. Your parents’ marriage is on the rocks, your brother is struggling with what to do with his life, and you’ve grown up and are starting your own counseling practice. So what happens when you find yourself falling for the man your father calls his best friend? And worse, what happens when your parents find out he’s falling for you, too? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Age gap, eventual smut, cursing, alcohol

Word count: 2K

Chapter overview: Y/N settles into her job at Jake's vineyard, and has a revelation about their relationship

Author's note: This fic references a significant age gap, as reader is the child of Jake's best friend. However, she's in her mid-twenties, and he's been only a small part of her life to this point as he spent the majority of his time traveling with his late wife. This fic does not depict grooming, but if you are concerned with any of the themes please read at your own risk.

Masterlist here

On your second week on the job, a drunken bachelorette smashed fifteen bottles of wine by toppling over a display case. Just as you were about to curse them out, Jake swooped in, one hand on your arm, a reassurance blanket. 

“On the house,” he said with a grin and the girls swooned at him, forking over a 400% tip to try and cover the cost of the bottles. Jake let you keep it all. 

“For the practice,” he said, holding a hand up, stopping you from pressing the cash into his palm. 

“Jake, I can’t.” 

“Take it,” he replied, insistent. “Please.” 

By the time your one-month anniversary at the vineyard rolled around, Jake was letting you help plan weddings and events. The vineyard had a handful of different event packages, and you were up to your ears in paperwork. 

“Knock knock.” Jake hovered in the doorway of your office. He had cleared out a spare room next to his office and made it yours. It fit a small desk and chair, and you relished the ability to go into your office and shut the door and close out the world. 

“Hey. What’s up?” 

“You’re working late.” 

“Oh you know, my boss, he’s a real hard ass.” 

Jake grinned, lowering his arms and folding them across his broad chest. “Yeah, heard of him, they say he’s a huge asshole.” 

“And super ugly,” you replied. 

Jake chuckled. “Just wanted to check in on the Mackenzie wedding. How’s that going?” 

You sighed. “Remind me never to get married.”

He frowned. “Why is that?” 

“Marriage seems OK, but weddings are the worst. It brings out everyone’s bad side.” You tilted your head. “What was your wedding like?” 

“We didn’t have one.” 

“What?” 

He shrugged. “We were young, we wanted to save our money and travel. So we went to the San Francisco courthouse and eloped.” 

“Do you regret it?” 

“Not for a second.” He smiled. “You’re right, Sparky. Weddings aren’t for the bride and groom. They’re for family and friends. Sometimes it’s nice to keep it just about you.” 

There was something in Jake’s gaze that you couldn’t read. Was he thinking about Jenny? 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jake said softly. “Don’t stay too late, OK? If it’s too late to drive home, call me and I’ll pick you up.” 

“I live fifteen minutes away,” you reminded him. 

“Just call me, alright.” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, boss.” 

He chuckled and shook his head. You found yourself watching him walk away. 

***

“Let’s make quesadillas.” 

You peeled your eyes open. Colin was standing in the corner of your room wearing a pair of swim trunks and no shirt. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “You’re shitting me, right?” 

“Come on.” He smirked. “Night swim and Mexican food. It’s tradition.” 

“We’re not seventeen anymore, Colin,” you groaned. “I have work in the morning.” 

“Jake will understand.” 

“Doesn’t matter,” you replied. “I’m responsible now.” 

He ripped the blanket off the bed and you shot up to seated, furious. 

“Seriously?” 

Colin grinned. “Come on. Live a little, sis.” 

Ten minutes later, the two of you were eating quesadillas in the hot tub. You tipped your head back against the tile rim. “What are we doing out here?” 

“Eating quesadillas.” 

You rolled your eyes. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. We’ve barely talked since I got home. It’s been six weeks.” 

“I’m busy. You’re busy.” 

“I have a job. You work at the crab shack.” Colin, after nearly failing out of college twice, had taken an almost permanent job on the boardwalk. This time he was a fry cook at a seafood joint frequented by tourists. 

“Don’t be such a snob, it doesn’t suit you.” 

“Just like being an idiot doesn’t suit you.” 

He shoved the rest of his quesadilla in his mouth and reached for yours. You were too slow – he grabbed it and forced it into his stuffed face. “Thanks.” It came out garbled and you watched a fleck of dried cheese land in the swirling water. 

“Disgusting,” you said with a laugh. “I’m serious though. What are you doing? You can’t live with mom and dad forever.” 

“You live with mom and dad.” 

“For now.” 

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Same.” 

You sighed. “Fine. New subject.” 

“So when do I get to see my little sis at her big grown up job?” 

“The vineyard?” He nodded. “Whenever. Come any time, I’m always there.” 

“With Jake.” 

You frowned. “Yeah, with Jake.” 

“Y/N.” He tipped his head. “He’s like, old. You know that, right?” 

“What?” You were aghast. “I mean, yeah I know that. I’m not stupid.” 

“He’s too old for you.” 

“He’s Jake!” you countered. “He’s dad’s friend. He’s my boss.” 

“Not once did you say you don’t want to date him.” 

The truth in Colin’s words prickled your brain. He was right. You couldn’t say that and be telling the truth. Because the truth was, as the days went by, you were starting to see Jake differently, despite your best efforts. He was kind and he was generous and he had an affable attitude that charmed everyone, old and young, man or woman. He was easy to be with. He made things fun. 

You shook your head. “Shut up, Colin.” 

He laughed. There was something buried in that laugh. How many times had the two of you snuck out in the middle of the night for a swim? How many times had you heard his laugh, and known that he was going to unearth your secrets? Colin knew everything you did before you even did it. 

***

“We need more sauvignon blanc on table three,” you said to the head waiter. He scampered toward the bar in the back, emerging a moment later with a frosty bottle of white, carefully cutting the metal wrapper tableside and popping the cork seamlessly. 

“Relax.” Jake appeared from behind, looking relaxed in a suit in the way only a confident man in his forties could. 

“I can’t,” you replied, eyes watching the bride and groom flit from table to table speaking with their guests. So far, nothing had gone wrong. At least, not in the front of the house. In the back, you had stopped three rounds of appetizers from being burned, and had to deal with a last minute rosé crisis. 

“I hired you because I knew you’d do the job well,” he said. “But I want you to have fun, too.” 

You shot him a glare and he smirked. “Fun? You think trying not to ruin someone’s wedding is fun?” 

“Honey, once they get down the aisle, nothing could ruin it. I could go over there and puke on her dress and it would still be the best day of her life.” 

“Don’t you dare.” 

He chuckled. “Do me a favor, Sparky?” 

“I’m not going to spill red wine on the mother of the groom just so you can have the last laugh.” 

“Have a drink,” Jake replied. “And save me a dance.” 

By the end of the night, you had eaten approximately fifteen balls of fried mac n cheese and had four glasses of champagne. As the last guests departed – the bride and groom had driven off in an antique Jaguar an hour earlier – you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Great job guys,” you said to the crew as they filed out of the kitchen, backs sore, white servers aprons splattered with wine. Your neck was aching and so were your feet. All you wanted to do was go home, take off your wrap dress and take a hot shower before stumbling into a fluffy pile of white bed linens. 

You had been surprised to learn that all of the vendors – the florist and the linen delivery and the chair rentals – would arrive the next morning to pack everything up. Somehow you had it in your mind that a wedding was ripped down the instant it was over. As if it was never there. But the reality was, the ghost of the wedding lived on through the night. In the quiet and the dark, the skeleton of everything remained. 

As you turned, heading for the stairs, Jake emerged at the top of the stairs. “Clocking out?” 

You nodded. “I need to sleep for one hundred years and quite possibly take the longest shower known to mankind.” 

Jake carefully stepped down the marble stairway before landing at the bottom, only a foot from you. “Well if you do that, I’d have to fire you.” 

Your face fell. “What?” 

“You promised me a dance,” he added. 

You frowned. “The musicians are gone. The wedding is over, Jake. And besides, my feet feel like they’re dying.” 

“Take off your shoes.” There was something authoritative about how he said it. And despite your bed calling your name, you followed his orders, slipping off the tall heels, bare feet hitting the cold marble floor and you almost moaned in relief. Jake held out one hand and you took it, letting him lead you out onto the empty dance floor. He pulled out his phone, hitting a few buttons before music filled the air around you. “One dance,” he whispered. 

“Yes, Jefe,” you replied and he smirked. Naturally, your fingertips reached for his, one hand tangled with his fingers, the other wound around his neck. Jake held your waist softly, pulling you in closer, until you could feel the heat of him on you. 

“I couldn’t do this without you, Y/N.” You knew it was serious when he didn’t call you Sparky, the heinous nickname that had come from that one summer as a child when you had been determined to teach the dogs how to do tricks like the seals at the zoo, balancing balls on their noses and doing flips in the water. It ended horribly, and there went your dream of being a zoo performer. 

“Yes you could,” you replied. “You did it before I came home. You’ll do it after.” 

Jake’s grip tightened microscopically, but you felt it. Like he was grounding himself as the two of you swayed in the open space. “What would you say if I begged you not to leave?” 

You looked up at him. The slight stubble across his jaw, the way his collar was pulled apart, a small tuft of chest hair peering through the top of the white shirt. “Jake, I—”

“I want the best for you, Y/N,” he interrupted. “I always have. But selfishly, I want you to myself, too. You make everything easier. You make everything better. And it’s been a long time since I felt like I could depend on anyone other than myself.” 

“The clinic isn’t anywhere near done,” you replied. “I still have months of construction and paperwork and hiring people.” 

“Just the thought of losing you.” He shook his head. “Sorry, I’m being selfish. I’m the adult here, I shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on you.” 

You stopped dancing, dropping Jake’s hand and lifting it to his neck so that your fingertips closed behind his collar. Jake’s hands fell dutifully to your waist, large fingertips digging into the sides beneath your ribs. “I’m not a kid anymore,” you whispered. “I’m twenty five.” 

Something passed between the two of you. You found yourself staring up at Jake, his algae green eyes, the way his lips were puckered slightly. The way he felt, hot, pressed against you. 

And then it was over. Jake’s hands fell from your waist as he took a step back. “It’s late,” he said softly. “Can I drive you home?” 

You frowned. “I drove myself. I’ll be fine.” 

He turned toward the stairs, the music in his pocket shutting off abruptly. “Goodnight, Y/N.” 

You watched his shoulders sag as he disappeared up the stairs. The thundering of your heart in your chest threatened to knock you over. 

Tag list:

@lyn-js @seresinhangmanjake @bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @dempy @allbark-no-bite @teacupsandtopgun @na-ta-sh-aa @katiedid-3 @bradshawburner @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @rosiahills22 2 @emo @horseshoegirl @eminyourjeans

[tootiredmotel]

Give him the real thing

For @floral-cas 's event!!! First time writing from an outsider/oc's pov so bear with me. Huge huge congrats on your milestone K!!! You are a PILAR of this lil community and we all love you 💚🌺💚🌺💚🌺

Read on ao3. 1.7k words

"Alright, uh… confession. I got no idea what I'm doin' here."

He looked around the shop like a monster was about to pop out of any corner. Like the carnations were going to bite him and the pots lined up on the windowsill next to them would come to life and crush his feet. The poor guy looked terrified, but it's nothing Maya hadn't handled before.

"That's what I'm here for. What's your name?" She asked, sensing they'd be there a while.

"Dean."

On any other day, Maya would've been resenting a burly, middle-aged guy with no idea what he wanted coming into the shop twenty minutes before closing, especially on a Thursday. Jade had their A.A. meetings on Thursdays so Maya was alone for the evening. But this Dean guy? He looked so lost, so nervous, so utterly out of place. There was something else about him that made her want to help, too. Maya wasn't sure what, but she'd figure it out.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Maya. Let's start with this: why are you here today, Dean?"

"Anniversary tomorrow."

Concise and to the point. Maya made a mental note. She also noted how he wiped his palms on his jeans and clenched his jaw. Nerves.

"How many years have you been together?"

That got a smile out of him. "A lot. A whole lot. But this is, uh. First wedding anniversary."

She donned a wide smile. "Congratulations. That's wonderful."

"Yeah. Thanks, thank you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets, still not meeting her eyes.

"Doing anything special?"

"Nothin' fancy. My brother and his wife are taking the kiddo for the night so, picnic in the backyard, lookin' at the stars, all that cheesy romantic crap."

His words didn't match his tone. It was evident Dean was absolutely smitten, Maya recognized the look, and he was making an effort. He was filled to the brim with giddiness and adoration for this person, and it shone through from him just thinking about them. Jade still looked at Maya like that every morning and night, and so did Maya at them. Every day since freshman year of college. Maya's chest swelled.

"Thing is," Dean continued, a bit more relaxed now. "Cas knows all about this stuff. We got this huge garden behind the house that I'm not allowed to even touch. There's a million books about nature and trees and flower meanings on the shelf, and Cas has read all of 'em. I didn't even know flowers had meanings, I don't know jack shit about any of it, but…"

"You want to impress Cas."

"I wanna impress Cas. It's gotta be good." 

"You've come to the right place then." Maya kept an eye on Dean as she circled the counter. He was studying the pride flags hanging in the window with a clenched jaw, and Maya went on alert. She pulled out the binder they kept in the drawer and plopped it down in front of him a little harder than she needed to, calling his attention. "My partner Jade is more of a nerd about this stuff than I am, but they made this for situations like these."

Dean read the cover, Jade and Maya's Quick Guide to Flower Meanings, and smiled. "Nice."

They spent forty-five minutes walking around the store, binder in hand, slowly constructing the message Dean wanted to convey with his bouquet. He was adamant on it containing blue, so Maya went for the Forget-me-nots first. “Love and hope,” said the binder, which she deemed fitting enough for a first wedding anniversary. 

Dean looked like someone content with his life, and he agreed when Maya suggested they look under the happiness category. “Well, Cas makes me happy,” he said, and they settled on Felicias, also blue. 

Dean eventually got comfortable enough and leaned over to look at the binder in Maya’s hands. “Think there’s anything in there for grace?”

Highly specific, but possible, Maya thought. “Let’s find out.”

And they did. Plumerias, white.

“Anything else?” She asked him. Dean donned a thousand-yard stare as he thought about it, and Maya figured this man had been through a lot. More than she could ever imagine. She was glad he’d found some peace.

“Freedom,” Dean said finally. Freesias, white as well.

It was an odd bouquet, Maya admitted, but Dean was an odd man, and he looked happy with it. He was still nervous, still out of his element, but there was more excitement in the twinkle of his eyes than anything else.

“Cas will love it,” Maya assured him, and he beamed. She still knew very little about this Cas person— Dean could speak a lot without really saying anything, careful and reserved, even dancing around using gendered pronouns for Cas, which Maya found interesting—, but she could see Dean was living a happy life as their husband. That was good enough for her.

“Here’s hoping,” he said as he handed over his credit card, but he seemed a lot more sure than hopeful. He knew Cas would like it, and Maya couldn’t help a sense of pride grow inside her. Dean also put some cash in the tip jar and left with a smile. A good day’s work, and maybe a new friend in town.

---

“Maya?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Jade poked their head in the door, beaming at Maya as she ran the books in the back room.

"There's a gentleman asking for you."

"By name?"

Jade nodded. Maya sent them a questioning look, to which they just shrugged. If Jade wasn't all that worried about it, Maya supposed there was no reason for her to be either. She made her way out, squeezing Jade's hip as she passed them, and stepped up to the counter. The trenchcoat-clad man smiled at her.

"Maya?"

The depth of his voice caught her by surprise, but she recovered in time to reply "That's me."

The man smiled wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Cas. You might not remember, but last week you-"

"Did you say Cas?" Maya couldn't contain her interruption, or the eagerness as she asked: "Dean's Cas?"

Cas's smile widened even more, which she didn't think was possible. It was blinding, and Maya, even in all her queerness, could definitely understand what Dean saw in him. "That's right."

Dean’s fixation on blue flowers suddenly made sense too, as she noticed his eyes. "He adores you, you know. You're his heaven and earth."

Cas's smile faltered at her words, and Maya feared she'd said something wrong.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping."

“No, no, it’s alright.” He looked down at his wedding band, and his smile returned. “He’s all that and more to me.”

Cas stared at his ring for a second longer. It was silver and had a small blue gem embedded into it. Maya could swear it appeared to swirl with light.

“Dean spoke wonders of you,” she said.

He looked back up at her. “You, too.”

She blinked in surprise at that.

“I loved the bouquet. I thanked him for it, over and over, and every time he said you were the miracle worker. That he was clueless the whole time and couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not true,” Maya deflected, a steady heat rising to her cheeks. “He had a pretty good idea of what he wanted. And, if anything, he and I couldn’t have done it without Jade’s expertise.” She gestured toward her partner, helping a customer at the other end of the shop, and also tapped the binder, which was out on the countertop today.

“Then I suppose I’m here to thank both of you.”

He reached into a tote bag that Maya hadn’t noticed he was carrying and pulled out a plastic container. “We run a small baking business out of our home. These are on me. Apple and honey tarts.” He placed the container in front of her. On top of it was a label that read D&C’s Pastries. “They are also gluten-free, just in case.“

“What’s going on?” Jade asked, approaching Maya’s side with an expectant smile.

“Jade, love, do you remember Dean? From last week?”

“You told me about him, yeah, wedding anniversary.”

“Well this is Cas,” she gestured to him.

“Dean's husband,” Cas interjected. Jade and Maya shared a knowing smile. “I just wanted to drop these off as a thank you for helping Dean. Apple and honey tarts, gluten-free.”

“That is so sweet of you,” Jade exclaimed, eagerly taking the pastries. Maya rolled her eyes fondly at the pun, which Cas didn’t seem to catch.

“I was just doing my job,” Maya said. “But thank you.”

“Papa!”

They all turned to the child, blond and adorable, running excitedly toward Cas. At the door, where the child came from, stood an exasperated Dean.

“Jack,” Cas started, scooping the child in his arms. Jack wrapped his arms around Cas’s neck. “I thought I told you and Daddy to wait for me at the café, I wasn’t going to be long.”

“He missed you. We both did,” Dean gazed at him as he approached. “Dude, what are you-”

Dean scanned over the scene he’d just walked into and seemed to realize what was happening.

“So that’s what the tarts were for. Hey, Maya.”

“Hi, Dean.”

“And you must be Jade,” Dean said, extending a hand toward them.

“Yes! Heard about you, nice to finally meet you, Dean.”

“You too. You and that book of yours are life-savers. If I’d known the tarts were for you guys, I would’a made more.”

“These are more than enough, thank you. In fact, here...” Maya turned to a vase of daisies they had on a shelf and pulled out three. “Now I feel like we’re even.”

“Not by a long shot,” Dean said as he took his flower and Cas’s. He put his behind his ear, and Cas’s in his trenchcoat’s lapel, as Maya handed Jack his own flower.

They all promised to not be strangers, and kept their promise. Dean and Cas would bring over baked goods, and in exchange, Jade and Maya would let them take home a potted plant for their garden. Jack would always leave with a small flower in his hand, a different one every time, wrapped in Cas’s arms as he explained the flower’s origins or symbolism to his son. Dean would be the last one out the door, always turning back and mouthing a “thank you” to Maya. Every time, without fail.

And every time, Maya would think that she wanted what they had. Happiness, peace, a family, unconditional and true love. And every time, she would look over at Jade, and know she was well on her way.

[pocketsizeddemon]

Litha - Bang Chan Smut

           I got the idea last year but I didn't really have time to do anything and I'm beyond lucky that I got to finish it just on time this year. Hope you enjoy~ Chan has his first weekend off in a while and he spends it on a camping trip with you.

Bang Chan Smut , 2.5k words , AO3

       It was a lovely, sunny early June afternoon and you and your boyfriend, Chris were chilling on your balcony. Your hands were playing with his fluffy black hair as you were enjoying the sunshine. You still couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have been calling him your boyfriend for over a year now. 

           Earlier, in April, a little after your first anniversary, you shared with him one little thing about yourself that you weren’t entirely sure how to address all that time. You were a witch. Not the fairytale kind. A real-life, moon-loving, herb-growing, tea-drinking, spell-casting, witch. You didn’t know what to expect as an answer but after a few minutes of silence he just exclaimed with a giggle “Well, suddenly the number of candles and house plants make a lot more sense now!” 

           After that followed a lot of random conversations about your craft and even more 3 a.m. texts like: 

“Wait so you can turn people into animals?”

           “No babe, but I can jinx them to get their tongues twisted when they talk shit about me.”

but you were beyond happy with how sweet, understanding and curious he was about this all.  

           “Babygirl?” his voice brought you out of your reminiscing and you looked at him with a smile. 

           “Yes, love?” you asked

           “You had a really adorable look in your face. Were you daydreaming?”

           “Ah- I was just thinking of how lucky I am to have you…” a soft blush blooming on your cheeks as your voice trailed off. He chuckled and leaned up to kiss said blushing cheeks. Before he was able to answer, a yawn escaped him.

           “Oh, baby. Are you tired?” you asked, fluffing up his hair.

           “Yeah… my insomnia has been getting worse lately…” his voice trailed off as a frown appeared on his face. “Oh!” he sat up excitedly as his eyes gleamed with hope. “Can you… can you help me? Is there like a spell or a potion you can do?”

           You pondered for a few moments before answering.

           “Well, there are a few things I can do. I already have a bedtime tea blend that I can give you… And you’re going to have to come to pick something up on the weekend.” You smiled at him.

           “Why on the weekend?” he asked.

           “Full moon on Friday.” You winked cheekily before getting up to prepare him a jar of your bedtime tea. (Lavender, Chamomile, Valerian root, Linden tea)

           You wouldn’t get to meet him properly for the next two weeks as they were preparing for the comeback but that didn’t stop you from visiting his studio for a little while that same weekend to drop off the special restful sleep & sweet dreams sachet that you had made for him just that Friday night. (Lavender, Rosemary, Sea salt, Hops flowers, Sugar, Chamomile, Valerian, Amethyst and Rose Quartz)You kissed him sweetly and wished him a good rest before leaving that night. 

~

           You spent most of Saturday morning as a bit of a road trip, driving to your destination and listening to music in the car and just enjoying each other's company. Late on Saturday afternoon, you arrived at the beach you had found a few weeks ago online. It was even more beautiful than the pictures showed and the weather seemed to be just perfect for your camping trip, although it was still a bit too cool for swimming. After setting up your tent, you took off your shoes and went on a long walk on the beach. You and Chris picked up a few seashells, threw skipping rock and you just had to admit, he was great at that.

You returned to the tent as the sun was setting and just in time for dinner. Before you could even bring the food that you had left in the cooler, back in the car, Chris had already built a little bonfire. 

           “Funny how you built a fire...” your voice trailed off as you two finished up your food, “You see, today, or better tomorrow is the summer solstice!”

           “That's another witch holiday, right?” he beamed 

           “Exactly!" you smiled back at him. “Remember last year on the picnic we had on the 1st of May how I told you about Beltane?” He nodded and grinned, remembering very well what that story had sparked. 

           “While in Beltane the God and Goddess unite for the first time, in Litha, Midsummer, the God is maturing and the Goddess is pregnant, that’s why most fruits, vegetables and all grains are ripening and growing this season. And it's celebrated with big fires and staying up until sunrise to greet the longest day of the year.” you quickly wrapped up your story since you didn't want to overwhelm him. 

           Yet little did you know that his mind was racing in a whole different direction. All Chris heard was “pregnant” and his eyes focused with you, glimmering mischievously. Ever since the first of May, when you guys made love in the forest and he filled you up with his cum it’s all that he’s been thinking. He didn’t actually want to get you pregnant, not just yet, but cumming inside you and imagining you soft and round with his baby was doing things to him.

           “Speaking of my craft” you tried to change the subject a bit “how's your insomnia been treating you lately baby?”

            “I had almost forgotten about that” he turned to you with a massive smile “I really can't thank you enough babygirl. The tea on its’ own had been doing a great job calming me down before bed but after you brought me the little bag? I've been sleeping like a baby! I don't know if it's because it works or it's because I look at it and think of you... And feel warm and safe...” he held your hand lovingly rubbing circles on your palm. But it does a great job! Please just... Tell me anything you want, I want to thank you.”

           “Well I am a witch!” you jokingly answered, “You could give me your firstborn!” You laughed at your own joke until you turned to him to see a smirk on his face. 

           “Oh perfect! Let’s get baby-making!” he pounced at you, pushing you in the tent, suddenly very happy with himself that he had remembered to pack a groundsheet with him. You pulled him on the floor with you, him peppering your face with small kisses as you giggled. He leaned over you, supporting himself on his hands as he gazed upon you, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief under the soft lighting of the fire and the stars. 

           He slowly dipped down to kiss your lips, ever so softly but you pulled him closer and deepened the kiss. Over two weeks away from him had you craving for his affection and touch. His lips were so soft and sweet you simply had to bite them.

           “Eager girl…” he teased as he pecked your lips again.

           “I just missed you… a lot” you answered quietly, your fingers tangling to his hair.

           “I can’t complain, babygirl. I really missed you too.” He kissed you again, hearing a small sigh of content leave you. His warm fingers were soon on your waist, toying with the hem of your shirt as his lips lowered to your neck. 

           Your shirt and bra came off first and he could already see your nipples react to the cool summer breeze. He cupped one of your breasts while teasing the other’s nipple with his tongue, not missing your reaction. Your breath hitched as his warm tongue met the sensitive skin and a fluttery moan left your lips.

           Chris’ shirt followed before he leaned back down to keep on scattering kisses and small bites along your neck and exposed chest. His hands were now resting on your hips, massaging and squeezing the soft skin under the thin linen pants you were wearing. You couldn’t help but squirm in response. You were almost surprised by how hungry he was for you. Even his kisses were seemed hotter than usual, as he was lovingly leaving hickeys on your neck. It wasn’t long before you felt his finger fumbling with your zipper.

          You helped him take them off, wriggling out of the tight jeans with a chuckle. He kissed every single patch of skin he could reach while removing them, along with your panties. You instinctively spread her legs a little and he pushed them further apart. His hands rested on your thighs as he looked at you in all your naked glory.

           “Which one of the Gods am I supposed to thank for sending the most marvelous girl to me?” he mattered between scattering kisses on your inner thigh.

           “Hmm… Eros I suppose. Or maybe Aphrodite.” You answered with a warm smile and an even warmer blush, as your fingers weaved through his hair. 

           Chris' hot breath was getting closer and closer to your core. When his lips touched you where you needed him most, you let out a little moan. He took his time eating you out, humming as your thighs clenched and relaxed according to his Ministrations. Your hips were moving on their own account, following the movements of his tongue on your pussy, desperate mewls spilling from your mouth, but he was having none of that. 

           With his arms wrapping around your thighs and his hands now resting on your abdomen, he pinned you down, hearing your little whines of protest. He locked eyes with you and you could barely keep your eyes open as his pillowy lips sucked on your clit. Your back arched off the floor and your moans only urged him to continue. Switching between licking your folds with his skillful tongue and sucking he was making a squirming mess out of you. He could feel you clenching as your release approached so he focused on your clit even though his jaw was starting to ache but his efforts paid off as he saw you orgasm from just his tongue. After kissing your hipbones, whispering words of praise, he came up to your lips for a kiss. Taking advantage of his relaxed state, you flipped the two of you around. 

           “My turn.” You smirked cheekily. You kneeled in between his legs, pulling down his pants along with his briefs as he was steadying himself on his elbows. You were a bit impatient, silly as it seemed, but you wanted to make him feel good too. His painfully hard erection was resting on his stomach and it made your mouth almost water. There was precum already leaking from the tip and you wasted no time, licking it off. 

           He hissed as you licked up from the base to the tip, feeling his veins on your tongue. You slipped the tip in your mouth and sucked on it before you slowly started taking in the rest of his cock. Your hands were pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, trying to match the pace. Chris groaned when he hit the back of your throat, his hands grabbing at the floor of the tent. Your head bobbed as you tried to take more of him, tears prickling your eyes in the process. 

           “Fuck! That feels good babygirl.” He moaned as you finally took all of him in your mouth. “But” he continued as he stroked your cheek “I want to fuck you so much, baby. I want to cum inside you. I did say we’d make a baby.” 

           His dick twitched as you let him off of your mouth with a pop. You crawled on to his lap, his hands grabbing on your hips as his tip rested against your wet folds. You adjusted your position and slowly took him in, as you felt his grip tighten. Soft gasps could be heard as he sank deeper inside you, stretching you out. Chris marveled at the sight of you above him, your flushed cheeks, swollen lips and messy hair were beyond beautiful to him. 

           He couldn’t keep himself from staying still, even though he wanted to admire you a little more. He started thrusting up, meeting your unsteady pace, his hands trailing up towards your chest. You moaned as he met you with a particularly hard thrust, your legs shaking as you were starting to get tired.

           He didn’t need you to say it twice and took no time in flipping you over. Your legs, instinctively wrapped around his waist, keeping him close to you. You left a moan as he could reach deeper in this position. His groans responded to you, as he felt you clenching around him. Your hands reached to his neck, pulling him down for a rough passionate kiss.

           The smile on his lips was prominent even through your kiss and he set up a slow, sensual pace wanting nothing more than to make this last longer. Deep, slow thrusts, drawing long, breathless moans from you. Praises and I-love-yous were whispered in your ears as he kept a steady pace. You were overpowered by how he was sweetly making love to you, rocking the tent with his powerful thrusts. 

           With the knot in your abdomen started to grow tighter you begged him to go faster and he complied. His pace grew faster as he leaned closer to you, hitting just the right spot to make you see stars. He could feel your blunt nails scratching his back as he lost himself, pistoning faster and faster. Groans spilled from his mouth as he noticed you tightening around him, your orgasm approaching. You were but a pleading mess, so close, looking so beautiful just for him, moaning his name as you squirmed with pleasure. Knowing he couldn’t hold any longer either, he fucked you even harder. With the first few thrusts, your back arched off the floor of the tent, your moans filling the little space as you writhed in his arms. He let you ride out your orgasm as he chased his own, releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.  

           “That was amazing!” he said as he laid down next to you, left out of breath. You curled into his arms for a cuddle with a soft hum of agreement. Pressing your lips together into a kiss, he wrapped his arms around you as he played with your hair.

           “You realize that this was only round one, right?” you stated with a smirk after a few minutes of cuddling, causing him to chuckle.

           “Of course not, I haven’t given your my firstborn yet!” he answered through his laugh as he peppered your face with tiny kisses.

           And that’s how your night went. Soft warm cuddles, turning to slow and sensual lovemaking and back to cuddling again until the sunrise, leaving both of you pleasantly tired and sated. 

          “Did you really mean that Chris?” you asked him with half-closed eyes while basking in the soft pink light of dawn that was peeking through the tent's entrance. “The baby-making thing...?” 

          “Well... Perhaps not just yet but I can surely picture myself starting a family with you in the future. I love you so much.” He stated before nuzzling into your neck as the sun shined his first rays upon your skin.

[winemom-culture]

I abruptly quit my job at the daycare two weeks ago, right around my 2 year anniversary. 

Shit was going great, I got my classroom with my preferred age group and my silly little raise, was loving where I was at- then a former employee complained to the diocese about her grievances with my 2 bosses and one was basically made to resign, the other is relocating schools ALLEGEDLY by choice. Which like, I won’t get too into it but having been close to the employee at the time she was working there and privy to what happened between them... I think a lot of it was a petty vengeance mission rather than genuine mistreatment. I don’t agree with the way my bosses handled everything all the time, but I am pissed off that whatever she said basically fucked with all our job security, and realistically benefits her in no way shape or form besides getting her metaphorical middle finger at them. But whatever. Neither here nor there now. They just did away with them, without internally talking to any other employees who were still employed there, and put the superintendent in charge- who held us all for an hour and a half at 6pm on a Tuesday night and said effectively, “you all suck, I’m the boss now and I’m overhauling everything in the coming weeks to fix you.”

I got a new job by Thursday and put in a week notice on Friday morning.

I realized though after securing that job, which was a new daycare, I still had my last paycheck coming from the old daycare this week, my tax return and a pretty little savings cushion from stimmys (and hopefully, God willing, another one to come soon here!) So if there was ever a time in my life where I was in absolutely no rush and able to look around for something more permanent that pays better after getting my A.A. in December, now is the time. I think I might have found that (and when I say pays better I mean pays way better), it’s an awful corporate 3 step interview process but I move on to round 2 tomorrow, and the first guy I met with was fantastic. Other guy who I meet with tomorrow sounded equally cool on the phone. Fingers crossed.

Since I’ve had dedicated time to REALLY push my resume out on Indeed I’ve gotten great response in the last week, and that’s including the first daycare I turned down reaching out and saying, “we really want you, we’d like to offer you more money and give you whatever hours you want.” Which, I’m not saying to brag, but also it did boost my ego a bit. Like wow, I have options? That’s wild. That said, what they would offer still probably wouldn’t work out to be as much as this one I’m really holding out hope for. Another thing I’ve learned through this whole endeavor, is that phone interviews in the time of Covid SUCK. Like, it’s really impossible to make any sort of impression on the phone, at least I haven’t cracked the code. I’ve done like 5 in the week and nailed in-person interviews with 2. I really hope phone screenings & zoom interviews don’t become the new normal post-pandemic, because there’s really something to be said for how different it is from the typical in-person interview process, where I’m able to make a good first impression like 95% of the time. 

 Anyways, that’s the Winemom life update of the month. Send me good thoughts and vibes or prayers or whatever for tomorrow, it could be life-changing to some extent.

[stardustkenobi]

Toska

Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence 

A/N: Hi all! I know it’s been awhile but I’m hoping to find somewhat of a regular content posting schedule within the coming weeks now that school is officially done for the semester. This is part one of a series that I’ve been planning out for quite a few months :) 

Toska [tuss-kAH] — noun. A sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without a specific cause; a longing with nothing to long for.

“I won’t accept Imperial Credits, Max. Not again.” 

The elderly junkboss looked at you through narrowed, beady black eyes as the useless commerce was pushed in your direction once more. “This is all I can give you for today.” 

Your expression mimicked his with slightly more of an edge before sliding the credits right back. “I’ve just provided you with my largest haul to date — probably your largest acquisition in months. I know you have the means to pay well and you’re holding back on me?” You jerked your head over to your land speeder with lips pressed in a hard line. “I want all of that scrap back on my speeder in five minutes so I can go take it to another buyer.”

The look you received in return did not necessarily convey the sense of increased urgency in Maximilion Bane’s response to your withdrawal of your side of the bargain. “I can give you half in calamari flan, then tomorrow when I sell these to my client I can pay the rest in nova crystals.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What kind of buyer is giving you nova crystals?” You hadn’t ever seen one in person and if you had even one? You’d be able to take a long break from scavenging.

The junkboss stayed quiet before pushing forward the first half of his updated offer. “Do we have a deal?” He asked, your question completely disregarded.

You stayed silent for a moment or two, hedging your bets. The calamari flan was worth far more than the Imperial Credits, but the small sum was certainly not enough to cover the value of your haul. The decision came down to whether or not you could trust Maximilion Bane.

Within a minute, you came to the conclusion that the risk of missing out on one of the galaxy’s most valuable prizes outweighed the risk of being swindled.

“If you screw me over again, I will never, ever do business with you again.” Your voice was steely as you took the rubbery discs off of the counter. “Do you understand me?”

He nodded, knowing all too well what the value of keeping a scavenger as resourceful as you meant for his business. “Come back tomorrow at fifteen hundred hours, then I can give you your cut of the sale.”

With a stern nod, you pocketed the first half of your payment and turned on your heel, making your way out into the glaring Tatooine sun and leaving your speeder docked near where you would usually work on cleaning all of your findings. It was almost impossible to keep your thoughts of the prospect of having some of the most valuable currency in the galaxy in your hands in only little more than twenty four hours. Had you not been hardened by ten years of voluntary self isolation, supporting yourself by collecting scrap metal and selling it for less than what it was actually worth, maybe you would have allowed yourself to smile. Allowed yourself to let some former version of yourself creep over your features as a reminder to all that even those whose hearts have been hardened by hardship are still themselves at their core.

However, this was not one of the fairytales your father read to you at night when you were a child — those days were too far gone and you felt that you outgrew them the minute your feet crossed over the threshold of your home as you ran away from everything you had ever known when you were just fifteen. You didn’t operate in silly clichés and you certainly didn’t want to sit in your emotions and allow the past to soften you. To eat up all of your energy like it used to on cold nights when you’d first left home and wanted nothing more than to go running back to the comfort of your father’s arms.

All of that was in the past now, and you supposed that the past was simply prologue. Just a blip on the timeline of events in your life that has led you to the bittersweet plateau of the mundaneness of routine — get up, search for scrap, clean and sell the scrap, sleep. Nothing more, nothing less.

The road to your home wasn’t necessarily unpopulated by any means, it was just dusty and the sun was high, so more likely than not people were taking shelter in their homes to take their midday meal. There wasn’t anything unusual about not encountering many, if any, individuals on your way back from work.

So, tripping over a little bundle of something unexpectedly about four yards away from home naturally took you by surprise.

Falling to the ground, you immediately reached for your blaster, making a quick draw and pointing to toward whatever had tripped you only to find two large black eyes staring you down.

“Hello?” You asked timidly, blaster still raised as a soft coo met your ears. Your eyes widened and you dropped your weapon almost immediately because holy shit there was a child sitting right in front of you and it was defenseless and you suddenly felt absurd.

The child didn’t answer you, save a little giggle at your expense, no doubt noting you opening and close your mouth like a fish because you had never seen anyone who looked like that in your entire life. To hell with any of the manners your parents had worked to shove down your throat when you still lived with them.

You slowly crawled over to them, blaster in your hand with the safety on. They cowered back a few paces, ears lowering a bit. “It’s okay.” You said, voice a lot more certain as you tried to garner back your people skills. “Are you alone, little one?”

The only response you received were two little green hands stretching up toward you, causing you to flinch. He continued to move up toward you, eyes now determined. Your gaze focused down toward where their hand was going and your eyes softened a bit as you fixated on the target. The one piece of home you kept with you, a simple disc with your parent’s wedding anniversary date inscribed into it on a chain, had slipped from underneath your tunic when you had tripped.

“Is this what you’re looking at?” You asked, as if they even understood you. You reached up, pulling the chain out a little further so they could get a better look at it.

A more enthusiastic sound than the previous one met your ears and you smiled. Shit, when was the last time you had smiled? You gave the chain a tug, yanking it off of your neck and dangling it in front of the child’s face.

They broke out into a smile, despite looking somewhat uncomfortable just moments before, and surged toward you as quickly as they could on their little feet.

Something between a snort and a giggle left your lips as the little disc on the chain was suddenly pinched between green pudgy fingers. “Where’s your family, hm?” You mused, more to yourself than anyone else as you sat up on your knees, reaching back into your small bag filled with little odds and ends and pulling out small bit of food and offering it to them. “Are you hungry?”

The glistening of metal under the sun was no match for an unsatisfied stomach, apparently. The chain, which had found its way into the child’s mouth, was instantly forgotten and the food you offered was snatched from your hand. You scooped up the chain, a smile crossing your lips once more as you watched them raise the food to their lips and —

“Get away from him!” Someone snapped from behind you.

Fuck.

Finding a random kid on the streets without some sort of handler or parent or guardian or whatever was just not feasible, you knew this. Boy did you know this, because, fuck, you had been a kid on the street without a parent in Tatooine at one point. The streets were not kind to the innocent here.

You rolled back on your knees, pulling your blaster again and putting yourself between the child and whoever was yelling at you to move. Hitting the safety, your stomach sank as the sun glimmered off of whoever it was.

A Mandalorian in all of their shiny armored glory stood before you, blaster drawn on you. Whoever they were clearly had an advantage over you, what with your free arm protecting the little one you had tripped over and your dominant hand pointing your blaster back at them from the ground. Even if you had been standing it wouldn’t have mattered – they had you on height and muscle.

“Who the hell are you?” You finally settled on, steeling yourself as your gaze trained onto what you figured was your best guess of where their eyes would be had they not been covered by beskar as expressionless as the blasters in either of your hands.

“Doesn’t matter.” The modulated voice was undoubtedly male, there was no questioning that. “Give me the kid.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to stay perfectly still. “How do I know he’s even yours?” You challenged. Was this most likely a con job that was going to lead to you getting kidnapped, robbed, or both? Definitely. This child was definitely with the Mandalorian. However, on the off chance that he really wasn’t with the Mandalorian, some feeling that you could only identify as a mix of protective instinct and adrenaline made you shift in front of the child even more. “You certainly don’t share any resemblance.”

The Mandalorian’s head tilted, as if he was thinking. “Shut up.” He said after a moment, taking a few steps forward.

Your arm gently pushed the child back as you scooted back in the sand, trying to put some distance between you and the towering figure looming over you and your new found companion. “How do I know he didn’t get out of someone’s house and you’re trying to hurt him?” You challenged, a little more confident in your abilities to do more than hold your own if the situation came to combat.

“You don’t.” He said as plain as day, keeping whatever he was feeling so perfectly under wraps beneath the sparkling armor that encased his head. He was silent for another long moment as the child cooed behind you, making grabby hands at the Mandalorian. For all you knew, it could have simply been because of the shimmering metal in front of you, just like the chain in your free hand. “Are you in the business of taking things that don’t belong to you?”

“No.” You snapped, still staring him down over the barrel of your blaster. “Are you?”

Your question was ignored as he came forward even more and you gritted your teeth, squeezing the trigger. The shot simply ricocheted off of the Shar’tas covering to the space where his ribs ended. Attempting to take another shot, hoping the lack of distance would give you a better chance, your finger struggled to push the trigger once more, alerting you that the weapon had stalled. Shit.

The Mandalorian kicked the blaster out of your hand, the action messing up your balance and pushing you too the ground along with the child, who was adeptly scooped up and put to the side after the expressionless warrior had straddled your hips and pinned you down.

“Get the fuck off of me.” You snapped, panic rising in your chest as you tried to reach for the child, who was just out of your reach. Part of you was, again, trying to protect what you still hoped to be an innocent bystander rather than a part of a con job, part of you was trying to protect yourself. He wouldn’t kill you if you were holding a kid.

“What exactly were you planning on doing?” He said, voice still eerily calm. “Killing me, taking the kid, collecting a bounty?”

“A bounty?” You said, gasping for air as his weigh started to stifle your air supply.

The arm reaching for the child was suddenly stuck in the sand. “Do you think you could even handle taking care of a kid?” He continued, as if he were testing you.

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Go fuck yourself.” You snapped, trying to buck him off of you. “I wasn’t trying to do shit except get home to rest when he literally tripped me, fuckin’ bucket head. Maybe you should take better care of your kid, if he’s even yours, considering he was alone and hungry when I found him.”

A modulated huff echoed in your ears as the Mandalorian reached for the kid and plucked something from around his neck. He dangled a necklace with a small mythosaur skull in front of your nose, his way of telling you that, yes, the kid was really with him. “This good enough for you?”

You nodded, bucking your hips again. “Get. Off. Of. Me.” You said through gritted teeth, continuing to buck your hips until the weight above you relented and rolled off of you, blaster trained on you once again.

“I’ve never seen a Mandalorian before.” “Why are you so concerned with the kid?”

Your words echoed one after another as you sat up, hand on your own weapon, as useless as it was. Your head tilted to the side as you studied the warrior sitting in front of you, then the plucky little baby glued to his side. Before you could say anything else, you were cut off again.

“You seem too scrawny to be a bounty hunter.” He continued, his head tilting as well.

“Hey, I —“

“So what do you want with him?” His voice was steely and guarded, just like every other part of him. “I know for a fact that there aren’t any Guild tracking fobs on him, but then again Moff Gideon —“

“Will you shut up for one second?” You snapped, finally sitting up. “I’m not with the Bounty Hunters’ Guild, I’m a scavenger, okay? I don’t even know what the hell that thing is.”

“He’s not a thing, he’s a kid.” The bounty hunter said simply, starting to stand up.

“Exactly.” You responded, starting to move but holding your hands up when he pointed his blaster at you again. “He’s a kid and I thought he was lost. I’d do it for anyone, okay?”

“But why?” He pressed, still not totally convinced that the woman in front of him had intentions motivated by good will alone.

“It doesn’t matter.” You said, finally standing up and putting your blaster away. “I’m gonna go. Glad you found your kid.” As you leaned down and grabbed your bag that had been tossed to the side, you heard a soft whimper and the patter of tiny feet in the sand. Turning on your heel, you were met with the sight of the nameless bundle of burlap and green waddling toward you, eyes somewhat concerned. You bit your lip, crouching down and reaching into your bag again, fishing out some more food and passing it into his hands when he finally made it to you. “Can you please lower your blaster?” You huffed up at the Mandalorian as you stared down the barrel of his weapon.

“No.” He responded almost immediately, leaving it at that as he watched you scratch the kid’s head on the spot that would typically have him fast asleep within ten minutes, even during the most fierce of tantrums.  He listened to your soft whispers as you told him that you had to go, but it had been nice to meet him.

You stood as the kid finally got distracted by his food, then slung your bag over your shoulder and headed back on your way toward your house, shoulders still tense because you had the strange suspicion that a blaster was still trained on your retreating figure.

“Why would you sacrifice your life to save a child you just met?” He asked, making you freeze on the spot.

You stared off down the path for a long moment, trying to decide whether or not it was even worth responding to him. “Because he’s a kid.” You finally said, turning around to look at him. “Because I was raised to protect people. You don’t get rid of instinct and training like that.”

As you finished speaking, the kid cooed again, trying to make his way toward you once more. His eyes were round and his hands reached out toward you once more.

“Can you kindly take your kid and go? I have to make myself something to eat.” You mumbled, finally prying your eyes away from the little green friend you had made and started on your walk back up the path, doing your very best to ignore what sounded like disappointed cries.

It was easier to ignore the kid than you initially expected as you continued down the path and made it home, too exhausted by the exchange to even care about the fact that the Mandalorian very easily could have tracked you and, more likely than not, did track you home. It was far easier to leave your tracks uncovered — the sand would blow them away soon enough. However, as easy as it had been to leave the Mandalorian and his child behind, your difficultly forgetting about them more than made up for the struggle that you might have endured earlier.

The novelty of meeting a Mandalorian in any capacity wasn’t what had peaked your interest. Maybe it was the kid or maybe it was excess adrenaline coursing through your veins from the almost fight for your life that had taken place. Maybe it was the fact that that Mandalorian specifically had so many questions, was so uncharacteristically talkative in that moment. He could have just ended you. Taken you out quickly as soon as the kid was out of the way. 

But he didn’t.

And that was what haunted you throughout the rest of the day and far into what proved to be a restless night.

[windstormwielding]

Slipstream

「 ...Hatchling. 」

“...haven’t heard your gruff old voice in some time.” Kōtarō’s posture straightened when he heard his blade address him. For an instant, it felt like the old shack that made for his childhood home and present surroundings blinked out, and he found himself pulled back into the sea of clouds that made for his inner world.

It was only for an instant, but the sight stuck with the Lieutenant all the same: the sky above him there wasn’t a clear, sunny blue. Clouds, ones at his feet and ones on high, were a charged black, threatening to burst with lightning and roar thunder at any given moment, and moving overhead and below with speed.

「 11 years will have passed soon. 」

“...yeah.” Now that was a comment from his projected instinct Kōta felt he could have done without, leaning back against the old wall and letting out a huff that came out more tired than he intended. It was one thing that he already trained himself ragged, with newer, deeper scars torn into the earth and cliffside alike outside proving as such, but while he would’ve appreciated hearing the often silent Hai’iro Ranmaru speak, it was another to be casually reminded of the looming anniversary of the Great Soul King Protection War.

Reiō, he always hated that name for it. They were more fighting for their own lives, their survival as a collective, than that of a faceless, nameless lynchpin. While Kōtarō found it easier to process those events in the decade-plus since, remembrance still stung. Fear and helplessness unlike anything he felt. Losing too many relationships in one fell swoop than can ever be counted. The death of the one man he respected and looked up to most, whom he only wanted to make proud one more time before his untimely demise. Oh how distraught he had been, in repressing the resulting despair as much as he could and sinking himself into his work, into bettering himself in case-

「 Why? 」

“W-why what?”

「 Why do you remain grounded? 」

“Ranmaru, we’ve been at it here since morning,” the windstorm wielder pointed out, even going so far as to jab a thumb toward the sunset-hued sky outside for his mentally aboding partner. It was rare that he had an entire day to himself, and of course he spent it dedicating in refining his skills and abilities with nigh bullheaded obsession, but he intended on returning to the Seireitei once he recovered enough of his strength. “We can get back into it later in the week, can’t we?”

「 That is not what I meant. 」

Oh here we go with the cryptic gotchas. Returning his thumb so that he may drag his hand, palm and digits, down his face, Kōta paused before he opted to take the bait: “So if it’s not me taking a break, then what?”

「 Why are you not honest? 」

“Wh- Excuse me?!” Maybe it was the exhaustion talking when his own voice rose, but those words still touched on a nerve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

「 You first chose to carry this burden in the name of a man who has not walked among you, not for the last 11 years. 」

“Okay, don’t you dare bring Captain Ukitake into this.” His tone turned as sharp as steel at the comment, and his reiatsu threatened to flare in turn. It was not long after Aizen’s arrest that Kōta made such a pledge to his late commander, to be of better use to him and the 13th in the future, but it was the absolute last thing he wished to recall.

Still, as bitter as he felt, he knew Hai’iro Ranmaru was correct.

“Shit.” How cruelly that memory aged, from an ignorant and hopeful 4th Seat who saw not the storm on the horizon. Hell, none of them saw it coming. The shinigami in question felt his back ease against the wall he sat against, all while mulling over bygone times.

「 So what reason do you have to still seek such power now? 」

The answer to that is obvious, no?

“Rukia... She’s going to need me to back her up. I have a whole Division to look after now as Captain Kuchiki’s right hand. The newest Captain and Lieutenant pair. All eyes of the Gotei 13 will be on us. I can’t afford to slack off just yet.

“...I’ll need to be at my best.”

And for his answer, all he received was a dismissive scoff from the elder voice in his mind.

「 You lie to yourself. 」

“Lying to myself?” Here Kōtarō thought he was being forthright, yet his blade’s accusation came with a gale creaking the wood of the hut from the outside, as though wind itself was objecting to his questioning.

「 You pursue power because you are afraid. 」 

The claim spurned the Lieutenant into trying to deny it, but however he tried to raise his voice, any attempt at a sentence died almost as soon as it left his throat. What could he say to convince his own id otherwise? Not five minutes ago, his thoughts still lingered on a conflict over a decade past; Hai’iro Ranmaru naturally would have thought it too.

“Well don’t you have me all figured out, jī-chan,” he finally answered, letting a defeated smile sit on his countenance.

「 There is no shame in such an act. 」

“In what, pursuing power out of fear?”

「 In figuring you out. 」

A snort broke from the swordsman at the bluntly delivered remark, and with it, so did the tension between himself and the spirit of his weapon.

“Pfeh. That too, then.” 

With that, the pair allowed silence to reign between themselves. The clouds hanging high over Kusajishi seemed to rumble, ready to dispense with rainwater it had built up for several days of aridity with the coming summer season.

It only took moments for the first droplets to fall, pelting the roof little by little until a full shower began in earnest. A satisfied sigh left the soul reaper as he closed his eyes and focused on his other senses, taking in the soothing sound of rainfall and the building smell of petrichor from the outdoors.

Ranmaru’s presence, meanwhile, still lingered in his mindscape, seeming to enjoy the outside weather along with his wielder.

“...it’s been fun, though.”

「 Fun? 」

“Hm.” Kōta nodded to themselves as he sought to piece his thoughts together, while reflecting on more recent history for a change. “Over the last several years. All those techniques and manoeuvres? I wasn’t capable of half of that before we started training so seriously.”

「 Getting stronger... brings you pleasure? 」

“If you want to put it so starkly, then sure, I guess.” A low chuckle broke from Ryōhei younger before he continued. “It also means I understand you—and us—better in the long run, doesn’t it? I’d call it fun.”

「 Hm... I suppose it does, hatchling. 」

“I don’t know, I just... I want to keep flying. Higher, and higher still, until I can’t see the earth at my feet anymore.” He didn’t realize he started waxing poetic, but he remembered that wish well from when he was a little young soul: a great yearning to stand above any and every trouble on the earth, and equally untethered to the forces of gravity – freedom unlike anything he’s ever known. “That’s... just how it always felt like to me, I guess.”

「 Yet you ground yourself. Fear has locked you within a gilded cage, all while the clouds above call for you to ascend to their heights. 」

“Is that right?”

「 Of course. I am the wind at your back, the air in your lungs, and the sword by your side. I know when fear takes hold of you, even should you attempt to deny it. 」

“...it’s not like I’m afraid of death or anything. Kinda grown numb to that sort of thing after this many years on the job and all,�� Kōtarō opined, feeling that a shinigami in his position would not last long in their duties if they weren’t used to putting their life on the line. Ranmaru hummed in affirmation in turn, wishing to hear his wielder speak his mind more. Anxiously, the man rested his hand on the back of his weary neck as he went on. “It’s just... back then, with the Quincy...?”

For a moment, he fell quiet.

“...they fucking steamrolled us. Slain us by the thousands. Hardly took them any effort, at that.”

As for the words he did not say aloud, though his zanpakutō understood as though they were spoken? None of us should have survived the war, least of all me. We got off lucky.

However, it was more than just fear. More than just helplessness. Hopelessness. Despair. Desperation.

「 ...so what do you intend to do, the next time your world threatens to fall around you? 」

There was one more feeling that took root in his soul, though buried within the chaos of the last day.

Memories of his own last stand proved... hazy, given he would only remember waking up in the 4th Division barracks after the dust settled at last. But, Kōta did remember the Seireitei, though ruined, returning in front of his eyes after days spent skulking, fleeing, hiding, and fighting within the city of shadows.

Then lights fell from the heavens, by the dozens, and from their descent rose those... things.

「 The next time providence itself chooses to become your enemy? 」

Squawking, shrieking, swearing vengeance in the name of their perfect, almighty god-king. Threatening to raze the one relief he found in his home materializing before him to ashes, after he thought it truly lost forever. After he finally had a moment to breathe—let alone recollect himself—when he reunited with those who still remained from the 13th. After they already took Captain Ukitake from them.

It was coming back to him, albeit in pieces, that those bird-beasts were so. Fucking. LOUD. Like a sickening cacophony of dissonant trumpets gleefully tearing into whatever peace of mind he still held on to, blaring into his ears lest he turned deaf.

The spark of hope he felt that that some of the normalcy he loved could return at all, only for someone to dare rip it away from him again, ignited something else.

「 The next time someone dares to stand in the way of your peace? 」

WRATH.

He stopped caring about power gaps.

He stopped compromising on what best approach there was to take.

He stopped worrying about whether he and his own would live to see tomorrow.

All he wanted was to see those Quincy bird things dead. Rally whoever among his men could still fight, and order the remaining ones to safety.

So, he brandished Hai’iro Ranmaru.

He saw Kira Izuru, a man who inexplicably stood while half his own torso was missing, going in as the vanguard against those lording, sanctimonious monstrosities.

Thus, Kōta summoned his cavalry.

Charged like a roaring typhoon, with a great fury he had not shown again since.

Fought until he could stand no longer, having slain one beast after the next with only red in his eyes.

The wrath he felt in those memories of the past simmered under his own skin in the present.

「 The Ryōhei Kōtarō I saw that last day, who did not let such fears hold him down... 」

Kōtarō was not alone in the cabin anymore. Not there one moment, there the next he blinked. It was enough to jolt life back into the shinigami, but he showed no fear before the intruder, for there stood the one same hermit he saw countless times within his inner world, now far and away—or a mere five steps away?—from the cloud sea it inhabited.

The same priestly kimono, with the same yuigesa. The same hauchiwa fan at his hip, with black feathers from the same black wings folded at its back.

Although, it was not the familiar face of a wise old bird Kōtarō would see. No, that mask fell away when Hai’iro Ranmaru made himself corporeal.

“...would break free from his cage, by tempering that same rage worthy of my power.”

Even his voice had changed with his younger, more human-like appearance, sounding smoother than Kōtarō had ever recalled hearing, almost melodious in his chiding. Next to one another, one could swear they looked like twins. The swordsman himself would have realized it as well, had he not sat there on the floor of his childhood home, looking shellshocked.

It did not immediately sink in that, at long last, his zanpakutō spirit materialized before him.

“If you can confirm to me you are worthy?”

It did not yet click that, indeed, he proved to possess the aptitude for Bankai after all.

“If you can show me you can rise above that fear?”

It did not come to mind that his years of training have finally, against all the odds, paid off.

“If you can prove that by besting the hells of yesteryear once again?”

No, above all else...

“Then I will gladly bend the knee to you...”

...what really stood out to the soul reaper was...

“...so that, as my master, you may soar to-”

“What the fu—YOU WERE YOUNG THIS WHOLE TIME?!”

“THAT IS WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO FOCUS ON?!”

[hanaasbananas]

A Little Love Part Two

Part One, Part Three

AO3

Four years later

“Hello?” There was a knock on the counter above him and Adrien paused at the familiar voice. “Is anyone in? The sign said open so...”

Emerging from where he’d been putting things away behind the counter, Adrien grabbed a cup, beginning the motions of preparing an order. “Hi, what can I get you today?”

“Actually, can I meet Adrien?”

Inwardly, he sighed at the question. Really, it had been a year already, hadn’t the novelty worn off yet? But when he met the girl's gaze, he was surprised to realise that he knew the girl standing across from him. Just as surprising was the way she looked around the place as though she was searching for someone else.

Huh.

“Yeah, one second-” he ducked back below the counter to grab his apron, ignoring her perplexed look until he pulled it over his head, gesturing to the name emblazoned across the front. “Adrien, that’s me.”

“Oh!” she clapped a hand to her mouth “Oh, shit, that’s embarrassing, um, hi, I’m Marinette,” she held out a hand for him to shake. “I’m writing an article on the best up and coming bakeries and cafes in the city and I’d really like it if I could write about your cafe. I’ve heard amazing reviews about this place. Especially about all your cheese desserts.”

Adrien blinked. An article...well it was bound to be better than any of the other things that had been written about him. The documentaries and exposes, and twitter threads ripping into father and Nathalie, even speculating about what Adrien himself might be capable of. But an article about the cafe ...

She was staring at him expectantly and he nodded quickly. “I’d love that!”

“Perfect!” Marinette grinned, turning to go. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then!”

***

Marinette wasn’t stupid.

She knew exactly why Alya had gotten her to take charge of this project and it wasn’t because you know so much more about pastries than I do!

Please. As if something like lack of knowledge had ever stopped Alya before.

Still, with Hawkmoth defeated for good, and the heroes of Paris gone, the Ladyblog was no longer active and Marinette supposed it couldn’t hurt to help Alya as she experimented with different endeavours.

Getting Alya off her back about her abysmal social life was just a bonus. Not to mention that Adrien’s Cafe was certainly...intriguing.

Former model and son of the disgraced fashion designer Gabriel Agreste- Hawkmoth , returns to Paris after two years and...opens a cafe? The headline wrote itself!

And a successful cafe, at that, Marinette thought to herself as she walked in. The place was already packed full of customers and it was only nine in the morning.

She hadn’t had a chance to properly look around the day before and she scanned the place from where she stood at the entrance, taking in the large bookcase in the back corner, with several plush chairs and a low coffee table; the rustic table booths and dim lighting that lent the place a homely air.

But by far, the most appealing thing about the place stood behind the counter. Looking up at her entrance, Adrien’s green eyes met hers across the crowded room, his face splitting in a wide grin as he weaved his way around tables and customers to greet her.

Which was another reason why she didn’t mind doing this article-the subject was super easy on the eyes. He almost reminded her of another blonde haired, green eyed boy she used to know, but Marinette quickly dispelled that thought, focusing instead on Adrien in front of her.

She was definitely going to enjoy this job.

***

“-a clean break, you know? I just needed to get away from everything here and start fresh somewhere new where nobody really knew me.” Adrien took a sip of his coffee, avoiding Marinette’s gaze as she scribbled down notes.

Somehow, even though Adrien knew Marinette was writing an article about him, he found it easy to open up to her. He glanced down at his hand, at his empty finger, remembering the ring that had once sat there. It had been easy to talk to her before , as well, when he had been Chat Noir.

In the last two weeks, the small crush on Marinette that he’d nursed all those years ago, had returned full force. It didn’t help that she was at the cafe every day, sampling all their wares, taking photos of everything as though every square inch of the place needed to be documented. Most times he struggled to retain his cool, sending over his new hire instead to take her orders and serve them as well. Despite that, he couldn’t help but follow her every movement as he worked, watching for her reactions as she tried his cakes and pastries, and he couldn’t resist at all when she asked him to sit with her.

Soon, maybe when her article was done, he even planned on asking her out on a proper date.

“And then...what made you decide to come back?” Marinette prompted, breaking him from his thoughts and he sighed.

“Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, living in another country, with my aunt and cousin, and even just getting to go to culinary school instead of following the path my father had set out for me by having me do a business degree, but, well…” Adrien shrugged uncomfortably “Paris is home, and I wanted to come back. My father took so much from me, I didn’t want him to take this as well.”

“That’s...wow.” Marinette straightened, sending a winning smile in his direction, seemingly unaware of the way she dazzled him. “Well I, for one, am very glad you came back to the city, because where else would I get all these amazing pastries?”

“Uh, from your parents?” Adrien raised an eyebrow, laughing and throwing his hands up in surrender when she threw her pen at him.

“You know what I meant!”

***

Adrien’s Cafe was shut on the anniversary. 

Of course it would be , Marinette thought to herself crossly. It had been stupid to even come out today.  

Adrien had more of a claim to sadness on this day than she did, and yet, for the first time in four years, Marinette had found herself wanting to spend the day with someone instead of wallowing in her own misery and regret, without even Tikki to keep her company.  

Swallowing her disappointment, she turned away, hiking her back up on her shoulder when she heard Adrien call her name.

“Marinette?” He stood in the open doorway, regarding her with a curious tilt to his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh..” she smiled awkwardly “I didn’t realise you were closed today, so I’ll just…” she made to leave “I’ll just go then.” 

“Wait!” Adrien grabbed something from behind the door and stepped out to meet her. “I was gonna go on a supply run,” he said, holding up two large canvas bags, he said “do you wanna come with me?” 

***

On the first anniversary of defeating father, Adrien had gone to visit him. He hadn’t stayed long, had simply pulled out the box that held Plagg’s ring and showed it to him, watching as realisation dawned on father’s face and left before anything could be said. He’d had a train to catch, after all. 

The next two years, while he’d lived with Aunt Amelie and Felix, Adrien simply locked himself in his room for the day. For once, his cousin never had a snarky remark for him. He almost wished that he did. At least that would be normal.

Even the year before, Adrien had hidden himself away, overwhelmed by the memories of being back in Paris, of seeing people celebrate the day. It was the only time he’d seriously considered putting his miraculous back on to see Plagg again instead of simply staring at the ring, turning it over and over in his hands, but never wearing it. 

But this year... this year Adrien had almost forgotten about the date entirely. He’d planned on going shopping anyway, to try and break his habit of locking himself away on the anniversary. His resolve had practically dissolved until he saw Marinette standing just outside the cafe, and suddenly, leaving the house hadn’t felt like such a terrible idea. 

It was meant to be a quick supply run, but the two of them had turned it into a fully fledged day out; driving around the city and even stopping for lunch in the park. 

Adrien might even have called it a date. He was pretty sure that Marinette felt the same way-if the pretty blush that coloured her cheeks whenever he flirted was any indication. 

It was dark when they returned, laden down with heavy bags as Adrien-loathe to let the good day end- let them into the empty cafe,  “What’ll you have then? Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate? And you’ve gotta have some cake too. On the house!” 

Marinette shook her head, smiling softly at him and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. “You’re spoiling me, Adrien. I don’t need anything.”

“Come on,” he wheedled playfully, “just one slice? and you have to have coffee with it”— sensing her wavering resolve, he rummaged in the bags until he found what he was looking for. “I’ll even use the fresh beans…” he shook the bag enticingly, grinning when Marinette conceded with a groan. 

“Oh, fine . Go on then.” 

“Alright!” Adrien gestured to a table, pulling out a chair for her. “Take a seat, and I’ll be right back out.” 

Adrien hummed cheerfully to himself as he worked, meticulously slicing the banana and walnut cake-it was a new recipe that he wanted Marinette’s opinion on. He smiled to himself, laughing under his breath at his thoughts. 

It was strange how in such a short amount of time, she’d come to mean so much to him. Only a month ago he’d been determined to be a loner, to content himself with running the cafe and that was it. He got all the social interaction he needed from serving customers and what else could he need? 

And yet...Marinette had managed to worm her way into his life so easily he wondered at how strong his defences had been in the first place. 

Setting everything onto a tray, Adrien made his way to Marinette. “So this was the first time I made”— he stopped short, his blood freezing in his veins at the sight of the red…

...the red kwami that squeaked and zipped back into Marinette’s purse at the sight of him. 

“A-adrien!” Marinette exclaimed, her voice unnaturally shrill, though he hardly noticed, eyes trained on where he’d seen the kwami disappear. “That was uh...that was-”

“You’re Ladybug.” It wasn’t a question, simply a statement of fact and she hesitated for a moment before nodding. 

“Yes. I mean...I was. I’m so sorry, I didn’t tell you, but I was worried-” she half rose out of her seat as though to come up to him and he took a step back, setting the tray down heavily on another table.

After all this time…

Marinette’s voice was hesitant. “Adrien?” 

“Get out.” Adrien said, turning his back on her, his mind racing, putting the pieces together, seeing everything in a new light. “Get out.” He repeated “leave. Before I say something that I regret.”

“I-okay.” 

It wasn’t until the door slammed shut behind her that he let himself turn around to watch her retreating back, feeling as he had four years ago.

The emotions washed over him like a tidal wave and Adrien grabbed hold of the table as his legs buckled underneath him, the blood rushing in his ears.

It seemed that this year was just as bad as all the rest.

[gingervitus]

How ‘bout 7, 9, 20, and 26

YAAAAHOOOOOO. LET’S GOOOOO!

7. (write ~300 word love scene for them)

Emma didn’t know how she ended up in the black coffee guy’s house, let alone drying dishes in his kitchen after he washed them. “This could have waited for tomorrow morning when the dishwasher is done running,” she grumbled while running the towel along the inside curve of the low ball glass in her hand. She bit down on the inside of her cheek to maintain the grimace on her face, not allowing a grin to come through. “Also dinner was good. Thanks.”

Eyes glanced down at her. A satisfied smirk found its way to Paul’s lips. “You’re welcome,” he replied as he scrubbed at a pan with the scratchy side of his sponge. “I’m glad you enjoyed, and I’m also glad you humored me enough to help with the dishes.”

The smile peeked through. Dammit. “Yeah, yeah, don’t tell anyone I’m being wooed by a bigass dork, though. You’re gonna ruin my street cred,” she continued to mumble even though a full fledged, toothy grin. He handed her the pan after rinsing it, but her face twisted at the sight of it. “You need to rinse that better. That’s why your eggs taste like fucking soap.”

His eyebrows raised, eyes shifting to the pan. “Huh,” he puffed before throwing it under the water again. “Thanks.”

“I’ve got your back, kid.” She snatched the pan back from it once she decided it was adequately rinsed off. “But--”

“Don’t tell anyone because it’ll ruing your street cred. Got it.” Her eyes shifted up to him only to find that he was staring right back at her. She felt her heart leap into her throat. “Thanks for putting your bad bitch reputation on the line for me.”

He leaned in, and she pushed up on her toes to meet him halfway. When their lips met, her heart hammered against her chest. Something deep inside cursed the involuntary smile that pressed against his mouth. “Yeah, just for you, though,” she muttered against his lips. She felt him return the grin. “Don’t give me that shit.”

“You like me.”

Another kiss.

“Fuck you.”

Kiss.

“If you insist.”

He kissed her again, but this time she found herself laughing into his mouth. “You’re on thin ice, nerd.” She squealed when wet hands found her waist, soaking through her shirt. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re lucky I like you, asshole!”

“You better believe it.” One of his hands moved to brush the stray tendril of hair from her eyes, leaving a small droplet of water in its wake. She stared directly into his eyes, hoping and praying he was too smitten to notice what she was doing. Sink still running, she carefully grabbed the spigot, and in one swift movement, she pressed the button to switch the stream to spray and turned the water on him. “Emma!” he shouted, dropping his hands to his sides. Her head tossed back with laughter. “Come on! It’s such a fucking mess in here now. There’s water everywhere and--”

Without another word, she pointed the stream at her own chest, matching his in terms of wetness. “Now, it’s a wet t-shirt contest,” she announced as her eyes raked up and down his sopping wet shirt. “I think you won, big guy.”

“I think you’re the worst.”

“You’re a bad liar.” She tugged him closer to her. “Some might even say you’re the fucking worst.” He took his turn to grumble as he leaned down to kiss her again. “But it’s okay. I still like you.”

(THIS IS MORE THAN 300 WORDS BUT I LIKE SOFT ROMANCE. THEY ARE I N  L O V E AND I HAVE NO SELF CONTROL)

9. (have they made each other cry?)

Emma makes him cry when she tells him she can’t say ‘I love you’ back to him. It’s not instantaneous. He doesn’t want her to feel bad, but when she’s gone, the lump rises in his throat and he punches the kitchen counter. He doesn’t believe her when she says it’s got nothing to do with him. It’s always been him. Just too plain and weird for anyone to love. In contrast, she also makes him cry when she does say it back. Her actions have said it for a while, but when the words leave her lips so nonchalantly, he’s so relieved he can’t stop the tears. ‘Get it together, nerd. It’s not like you didn’t already fucking know.’ 

Paul gets he on the anniversary of her sister’s death. It’s been a few years, and the tears don’t come like they used to, which she feels guilty about. He sits cross-legged beside Jane’s headstone in his suit. She called him as he got out of work, and of course, he came right away. He tells her it’s okay to not feel so broken. He reminds her that people are allowed to move on with their lives, and that’s what she’s doing. She’s living and she’s happy and that’s okay. Her icy fingers wrap around his as a particularly cold December wind rushes over them. ‘You could spend Christmas with me if you’d like.’ A simple gesture. She’d spent the last ten by herself. ‘It’ll just be me and the cat, and I’m pretty sure the grocery stores are all closed at this point. But we can make something work.’ Her gaze finds him and immediately blurs. She falls into his chest, sobbing. An arm wraps around her back. A kiss presses into her hair. One single snowflake falls between them.

20. (what is a promise they have made to each other?)

They’re both drunk and sitting in Bill’s backyard as a Fourth of July barbecue comes to a close. They lean close together in two uncomfortable fold out chairs they’ve been occupying for the last several hours. Emma’s breath smells like rum and popsicles. Paul’s has the faint scent of watermelon and beer. ‘After I graduate I’m gonna take you to Guatemala.’ He just blinks for a moment and then lets out a loud laugh. ‘No, Paul, I’m fuckin serious!’ He continues laughing. ‘C’mon. When I get a good job and we’ve both got that sickass cash money, let’s just go. Just a couple weeks. I wanna take you there.’ He agrees to go through his giggles. ‘Promise?’ Her eyes are serious and hard while he giggles away. He sticks out his pinky. She wraps hers around his. ‘The pinky promise is a sacred fucking oath, man. You’ve gotta keep it now.’ ‘Cross my heart, Em.’

26. (what are their favorite parts about physical affection/sex?)

Emma likes how he revels in her. Like she’s some sort of ethereal being sent from the heavens and somehow landed in his bed. Feather light touches and kisses laying out a carefully placed trail for him to follow again later. How he treated each time he touched her like he was exploring new territory. Filled with some giddy anticipation. Also boy’s got a mouth that really fucks. Paul finds her exciting. Everything with her has some sort of grit to it. Teeth and sweat and scratches against his back. She has a very innate physicality about her that he has never found himself captivated by in any other person. There was something primal and intoxicating about the way his own name was growled into his nape of his next and the way her fingers curled tightly into his hair. Also she got an ass that just don’t quit. Paul is an ass man. You can fight me on that, but I’m right and will fight you to the death.

[writethehousedown]

And The Livin's Easy, Chapter Seven (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: I DID IT! kinda at the last moment, but here she is. we’ve reached yet another end. thanks for reading fellas! sideblog for crying about the ending with me is @chachkisalpaca - a million thanks to frey for beta-ing this.

Summer of 2021, a year later.

Vanessa launches herself into Crystal’s arms when she sees her step foot onto the beach.

“You came!” She screeches so loud it hurts her ears. But she doesn’t complain, she’s missed Vanessa a whole lot. Crystal just hugs her tighter, lifting her up.

“Of course I came! I missed you, bitch,” she exclaims, settling her on the ground again. Vanessa takes her hand and guides her where she and Kameron are settled. “I gotta say though, if you made me stop on my way back home after losing to Shea Couleé in Hawaii, just to see you lose tomorrow, I’m done being friends with you,” Crystal deadpans, and Vanessa briefly lets go of her hand to playfully smack her.

Hawaii hadn’t been half as bad this year compared to the last one, considering she ended up in the fifth place, so the second place was an upgrade, and she did spend a great time while she was there — though Vanessa didn’t join her, preferring instead to stay in California in order to practice for an upcoming competition she was sure she would excel in thanks to most surfers being in Hawaii, but she still had April and Jaida to hang out with.

Things with Jaida were cooler now; they had managed to become actual friends and whatever awkwardness from the past was resolved. She still was her usual self, though this time around she seemed goofier and way more laid back. Crystal wonders if it has to do with that contact in her phone —“Babe” with three purple hearts— and the fact she’s also making a stop in California before returning to Milwaukee.

“Shush, you know I’ll win,” Vanessa says with a cocky grin, and her confidence makes her think that she’ll indeed destroy the competition.

They make small talk as they navigate their way back to Vanessa and Kameron’s blanket; Crystal asks how life is going since they moved in together on their one year anniversary, and Vanessa looks oh so radiant as she tells her how every morning and night is better than the last one, and that family reunions with Brooke aren’t as awkward as they could be thanks to them getting their shit together and talking things out.

Crystal asks if Plastique and Brooke are still a thing, and Vanessa shrugs, says she hasn’t talked with Brooke since the summer’s started, but last thing she knew was that they were visiting Plastique’s family in Vietnam over the summer and that the tickets were already paid for. Or that’s what Yvie told her, anyway, when she made a quick stop in California before heading to Hawaii to see her girlfriend.

Kameron is as strong as ever and almost crushes Crystal in a hug that leaves her breathless.

“Always a pleasure to see you, Kam,” she says, and Kameron laughs wholeheartedly upon seeing her expression.

“How are you, Crys? Where’s your surfboard? I thought I could get some cool photos of you and ‘Ness,” Kameron inquires, reaching for her professional camera carefully tucked in her backpack.

“Ah, I left it at my hotel room. I was having lunch when Vanj told me y’all were here already, and the restaurant was a few streets down, so.” She shrugs, taking the hair tie on her wristband to try and collect her short hair in a low ponytail.

“Aw, d’you have money to rent one? I wanted to beat you like Shea Couleé beat you in Hawaii, so I can have a taste of how it’ll feel to win tomorrow,” Vanessa teases her, placing her head on Kameron’s shoulder. Crystal rolls her eyes, both due to Vanessa’s cockiness and how disgustingly cute they are.

“You talk a big game, but I’m sure that I can beat you harder than Shea Coulee beat me!” Crystal retorts, earning a loud laugh from Kameron and Vanessa. She laughs too, and proceeds to tell Vanessa she has enough to rent a surfboard for maybe an hour. Vanessa claps excitedly, grabbing her hand and guiding her to the rental shack, before giving Kameron a quick kiss, promising to be back in a second.

Crystal rolls her eyes again. She can’t stand affection right now, not when she told her latest girl she was leaving yesterday and she stood her up at the airport, not even bothering to send her a goodbye text.

It’s disappointing, because she thought maybe this girl was like Gigi and she cared the tiniest bit about her.

But Gigi is unique. There probably won’t be anyone like her ever again, and Crystal is at peace with that for some odd reason.

They tried to stay in contact once they left Honolulu, but life is hectic, and it was becoming quite hard to juggle college, her job, and texting a girl half a country away on the regular. The last time they talked was on Crystal’s birthday, a simple “Happy birthday, babe!” with a heart and a globe emoji attached to it. Crystal liked the message and replied with a polite ‘thank you’, and that was it.

She tries to remember where in California Gigi said she was from. Maybe, if there’s the tiniest bit of coincidence that she lives near, they can have a movie-like reunion and revive those three weeks together, but she doesn’t get her hopes up.

*

Maybe Gigi doesn’t hate beaches that much after all.

Well, she can’t say that right now, not when she’s the only one without a girlfriend to spend summer with — Brita is going out with a girl from her class, after she spent all year long complaining about her and her shit attitude, Jan has a long distance girlfriend whom she talks with every day and swears is coming to see her before summer ends, and Jackie and Nicky are so sweet together it’s disgusting.

She feels left out, somehow. Probably because all they talk about in recent times is their partners and love lives, and Gigi hasn’t had a proper date since April, when they set her up with a senior called Pearl and their date went awful. She’s pretty sure Pearl is now dating someone else, though.

“Geeg, do you wanna come with me to get a smoothie?” Brita asks, sounding only a little bit impatient. Gigi cocks a sly brow when she notices it’s the second time in the hour she’s going for a smoothie.

“Brita, for the last time, Aiden is working and you shouldn’t be spending all your money on smoothies. The chemical bathrooms are a mess,” Jackie scolds her, briefly stopping running her fingers through Nicky’s hair, who’s lying across Jackie’s lap.

Brita folds her arms, saying, that ‘for the last time, it has nothing to do with the fact Aiden works there’, when suddenly Jan shoots up and runs off, leaving all the girls surprised.

They call for her and try to follow her as well as they can, when they spot her running into a woman’s arms, and the woman lifts her from the ground, spinning her around. They kiss while Jan is in the air, and Gigi can’t help but to roll her eyes.

Great, another pair of lovebirds she has to put up with.

Jan meets them back at their spot after kissing her girlfriend for what felt like a lifetime and introduces her as Jaida. Gigi vaguely remembers her from somewhere else.

“We met last year in Hawaii, and went out while Jay was there! We’ve been texting a lot since then, and remember that I went to Milwaukee for winter break?” Jan explains excitedly, snuggling closer to Jaida with each word she speaks. Gigi tries not to roll her eyes when Jan tells them, for maybe the hundredth time, how Jaida asked her to be her girlfriend when she visited her over winter break. Jan kisses Jaida’s cheek once she’s done talking, and Jaida just smiles brightly.

“I couldn’t pass the opportunity! You had me hooked since the moment I met you, and since this was my senior year, y’know, I thought we could make it work once I graduated,” Jaida says, bringing Jan closer by her waist and kissing her forehead.

“What were you studying?” Nicky inquires.

“I’m a communications major, and as of now I’m trying to get a job around here, so I can finally move out of my little town. And, ‘sides Jan, the beach here is always a plus. It’s a surfer’s dream,” Jaida explains, chuckling softly, and soon she’s bombarded with questions about her sport.

The fact she’s a surfer makes Gigi think of Crystal. She could’ve also had a surfer girlfriend if she tried hard enough to make it work, but she guessed that just wasn’t meant to be like Jaida and Jan.

She thinks of asking Jaida about Crystal, but decides against it. She still has Crystal’s Instagram and follows her page religiously. All she has to do is send her a text, but she doesn’t have the courage to do so after so much time having passed.

“Hey, girls? I’m gonna get ice cream, I’ll be back in a moment,” Gigi announces, grabbing her phone and shoving a couple of dollars into her phone case. She’s running away from the lovey-dovey couples more than anything, though she could also use some ice cream to help her cope.

She walks aimlessly around the beach, trying to remember where she saw the ice cream stand, avoiding children that are running around with water guns in their hands and screeching like banshees. Some beach balls are thrown her way, and she kicks them back with ease, dismissing the people that scream ‘I’m sorry’ towards her.

Gigi has learned to appreciate the unique chaos of the beach, even if she still gets annoyed at little things like the long queues to buy ice cream, and the disgusting chemical bathrooms. In the end, these are little details in the grand scheme of things.

Crystal taught her that.

It’s stupid how often she thinks about Crystal. When she starts forgetting the sound of her voice, she replays the audio messages she sent her. And sometimes, if she concentrates hard enough, she can feel the ghost of a kiss burning on her neck.

Perhaps she should download Tinder again and get a grip.

Gigi finally finds the ice cream stand she was looking for and buys the biggest cone there is, with scoops of vanilla, strawberry, and chocolate. She likes to keep it classy.

She’s slowly making her way back as she licks the Ice cream, wondering if her friends would believe her if she said she has a headache and is going home. Gigi really has no will whatsoever to sit through an entire evening of her friends rubbing their relationships in her face, while she’s painfully—

“Gigi?”

Gigi freezes mid-movement, looking for that voice she’s heard one too many times through audio messages. She finds the owner of said voice standing a few feet away, with her hair, that was once long and ebony, cut above her shoulders, dyed in a deep green that looks almost black, wearing a stupid yellow Hawaiian shirt over a red bikini, holding a surfboard under her arm.

She blinks repeatedly before realizing it’s not her mind playing a trick on her. It really is Crystal who’s approaching her.

“Crystal,” she manages to say, staring at her. Crystal’s smile is still the same, and her plump lips are as kissable as ever. She has a new piercing in her belly button; Gigi thinks it suits her. “It’s— I didn’t— You’re in California,” Gigi blurts out, and Crystal smirks.

“I am, yeah. I arrived this morning,” she says, a blush creeping onto her cheeks, but Gigi decides to think it’s a sunburn. “I was gonna, uh, I was gonna practice with Vanessa for a bit. She’s got a competition tomorrow, here,” Crystal comments awkwardly, making Gigi wonder where has the cheeky Crystal she knew gone.

“Are you participating too?” She asks, licking her melting ice cream.

Crystal shakes her head no, much to Gigi’s surprise.

“Oh, no, I’m sitting this one out. I didn’t have the time to sign up for this one; I was in Honolulu for another competition, like every year. I came in second. I did get a consolation prize and some money, though,” Crystal explains, going from excited to disappointed, and excited again in the span of a few seconds. Gigi giggles; she’s missed Crystal’s enthusiasm.

“How long are you staying?” Gigi asks, with a tinge of hopefulness in her tone. Crystal smiles softly, tapping on the surfboard.

“Like, three days,” she replies, biting her lower lip. Gigi’s heart sinks for a moment, but she continues. “You think that’s enough time to catch up before I’m back to Missouri?” Crystal asks, sounding way too sheepish.

A smile spreads on Gigi’s face, immediately thinking of all the things they can do together while she’s in the city, and a squeal of happiness escapes her mouth before she realizes.

“Oh my God, yes! I mean, it’s not as much time as I would want, but we could make it work,” Gigi assures her, and Crystal nods, giving her a toothy smile.

“We can make it work,” she repeats. Gigi nods dumbly, licking her ice cream again when she feels her hand get sticky with the melted cream. Crystal stifles a laugh. “I have to catch up with Vanjie, but, uh, do you wanna go for a swim together when I’m done?” Crystal asks, as if she didn’t know Gigi would say yes.

Gigi nods, and Crystal is already turning around to go to her friend, when Gigi tugs on her arm. She turns around, careful as not to smack any kid with her surfboard, and before she can say anything, Gigi steals a kiss from her.

“I’ve missed you,” she breathes out against her lips, and she can feel Crystal smiling before kissing her back.

“Summer’s way funnier with you,” she mumbles in response, forgetting about Vanessa, who’s waiting for her. The only thing she can think of right now is Gigi and how much she’s missed her lips.

[maryellencarter]

So work is supposed to be sending me a webcam to hook up to my work computer so they can spy on me randomly throughout the day and make sure I'm not using my phone at work (which admittedly I have been doing when there's nothing else to do during the parts of a long call that are just waiting for the system to do its thing, but it's not officially Allowed).

So I went down to the mailbox to fetch the expected webcam, as I was told we're required to use them starting tomorrow. (Officially it's so we can use them in meetings and shit, but I remember the waiver we all signed when we were originally supposed to get the webcams back in May, saying we agree that we may be spied upon at any time during our shift to ensure Information Security. Which is fair, one could easily be stealing credit card numbers and the occasional social security number with a phone camera.)

So anyway, I go down to the mailbox, and there's a padded envelope with something big and cylindrical inside it. "Wtf?" says I. Then I wiggle it out of the mailbox, and I see the return address from work. "Aha," I say, "this must be the webcam. I was expecting a square box, but far be it from me to question webcam manufacturer packaging."

(I may not have been quite so articulate at the time.)

Then I get back to my apartment and open the envelope, and inside it the first thing I see is...

...a water bottle. Quite unmistakable. Clear, cylindrical, with the little screw-top ridges around the mouth.

"Huh," I say to myself. "Did they just use a random water bottle from the swag box to make sure the webcam didn't get squished? That seems odd, but okay."

They had not. Once I got everything out of the envelope, I realized it was my gifts for passing my second anniversary at this job -- my little 2-year pin, my certificate, a branded water bottle with lid, and an off-brand Popsocket type thinger with a lil logo on it as well.

There was definitely no webcam in the envelope.

I've emailed my supervisor, I assume there's a perfectly rational explanation for the delay in issuing my corporate spycam, but... that was a whole lot of WTF for about five minutes there. Also, given the number of incorrect assumptions I've made in the last five minutes, maybe there isn't a rational explanation. Maybe we're all just stuck here.

[brokebuckkmountain]

Today was the worst

(long rant ahead, mostly about workplace politics with irl problems sprinkled in for flavor)

So. I’ve already been in my feelings lately due to like: life sucking, it’s the plague times, I am struggling to find a psychiatrist despite being told it was imperative I get help immediately, it’s winter and winter makes me sad, I’m losing friendships left and right thx to Miss Rona, I hate my job, yesterday was the one year anniversary of my breakup, there’s tons of gossip about me at work for things I genuinely did not say, and some of my work buddies are ignoring me for no apparent reason (including my best friend who has been ignoring me since my literal birthday a month ago? It’s all her friends that are ignoring me to it’s hard not to think it’s something related to that). Also, those PMS mood swings are a bitch.

I wanted today to be a good day. I wanted to get up early. I wore my new clothes and new perfume and was excited to train a coworker I genuinely like who was never trained when she was hired a year ago and struggles to get through her shifts. I mean I volunteered to do it for free because she deserves the help. But no no. Today was not a good one.

-I was woken up at 3 am to a litany of text messages from an ex asking to hook up again. Promptly fell back asleep and missed my later alarm, causing me to have to skip my workout this am and rush my shower.

-My boss didn’t assign my trainee online learning or make a schedule, told me I was a “strong enough trainer” to just do what I felt needed to be done. That was all he said to me, no further instruction. This is important later. Trainers and trainees are considered non-coverage and I run into an issue with this everytime I train- shifts want us on the floor doing different tasks than what I’m actually teaching. I personally think being a little backed up for 30 minutes is preferable to new hires not knowing how to do things because they never got one on one time, but most supervisors think otherwise.

-My trainee and I had about 25 minutes until our joint lunch break. She had expressed to me that knowing more about the mechanics of coffee- what is the body of a shot, why does it expire, what’s the difference between blonde and regular- was helping her, so I decided 25 minutes whizzing through that part of training before lunch was fine. I was immediately chastised by someone we’ll call Manager 1 because that “isn’t part of the training”. It very much is, and is available on every training resource, it just never gets taught because of time constraints and corporate not really caring about coffee quality. Manager 1 has consistently made a scene every time I train a new hire over us doing training and not just whatever she wants to get done. Manager 1 is also known for berating almost every one, and has lied about altercations that never happened between me and customers before to our manager. So she’s not exactly a fan favorite of mine. I maintained that the coffee basics was part of training and returned to the back, planning to use that time to do coffee basics and more memory games for drink recipes.

-After about 5 minutes, my coworker came to the back and told me the two managers wanted us out there helping. I went out alone to tell Manager 2 (who was technically in charge and generally less awful) what we were working on and asked if they really needed us or if they’d be okay. She said they needed us and Manager 2 began snapping that we were floor coverage, that my trainee was supposed to be on the floor all day, and that she had no business in the back “staring at a computer screen” (which we were not doing, but I digress). Since this is about the fourth time I’ve had this issue with this particular manager, I responded that we were supposed to be doing whatever I felt needed to be done, not working the floor. When they maintained that they were “under the impression” from our boss that my trainee and I were to remain on the floor all day, and we were coverage, I said “I guess I got confused by the dashed lines on the schedule that signify non-coverage as us being non-coverage” and went to get my trainee.

-My trainee knew the situation because she had overheard, got super nervous, and started making drinks wrong that she had been making correctly all day. During this time I overheard Manager 1 and Manager 2 not-quietly discussing them both texting our boss to complain about me. Fair, I guess, since I planned on doing the same when I was on my lunch. At one point they both left the bar area to send their texts and squat by the safe while waiting for it to unlock (it’s on a timer and beeps when it’s ready, no need to hover) which only infuriated me more- they moved us to bar so they could leave it. When it was finally our lunch time I sent my trainee and was pulled aside by Manager 2. I tried to move the conversation to the break room (something I have always been adamant about- not publicly berating coworkers in front of others) but she stayed on the floor where multiple people were and reprimanded me for my bad attitude. I told her I was never instructed to stay on the floor, had a schedule, and would’ve been more flexible if they had actually spoken to me rather than yelling and demanding. She maintained that I had a bad attitude and needed to follow orders. I said, once again, “mutual respect goes both ways, if you want me to incorporate things into my training schedule then you need to have an actual conversation with me about it and not demand it at random”. She said that as my superior I wasn’t allowed to “talk back” (ignoring my point that they had both, indeed, begun yelling at me) and told me my bad attitude “wasn’t a good look” and that she didn’t feel I was understanding. I said I understood perfectly that I shouldn’t be rude, but that they shouldn’t yell at me either, and I wasn’t going to take unprofessional yelling to pull me off my job as a trainer. Manager 2 didn’t listen to a word I said and kept going “you can’t have an attitude, do you understand?” so after a period of staring at her silently I said “Can I clock out for my lunch now and proceed with training?” and walked away.

-After lunch I was able to continue training, only because that part of the training constituted us being on the floor helping. I apologized profusely to my trainee for putting her in that situation, reassuring her that regardless of who was in the “right” or the personal issues of the people on the floor, my first priority was her being able to successfully learn and feel comfortable. She told me she had a hard time focusing on drinks and was anxious after the scene, and that she felt the public reprimanding I received was far out of line and unprofessional. I told her I knew that, but being as it was two managers against one me, I would probably still receive a write up tomorrow morning and not to let it worry her when it did go down (tomorrow is our final day of training and my last day before a long break from work, so I know it’s going to happen in front of her). She said she would talk to my boss on my behalf and I told her not to worry, I didn’t want her pulled into workplace drama, but she insisted it wasn’t right (she is considerably older than everyone in the workplace and I think a little protective of me since we volunteered together and I’m the only one who doesn’t chastise her for small mistakes). We’ll see if she says anything tomorrow but I don’t want her to feel like she has to “go to bat” for me and involve herself in unnecessary drama against people who will lash out at her.

-While trying to clock out, I overheard Manager 2 trying to get other coworkers of mine to give accounts against our boss to his superior over not liking their scheduling. Perhaps I’m biased, because I am friends with my boss and literally vacationed with him this summer, but he is the type to listen to concerns and always give people the benefit of the doubt. I’ve never seen him give a write up and he bends over backwards to accommodate people. So whatever their issues are, something tells me they haven’t brought it up to him. Manager 2 frequently breaks safety protocols because she “doesn’t care if she gets Covid” and has vacationed out of state many times resulting in us not allowing her to come back to work and being short staffed. Despite this, I’ve never given my boss her name when he asks who is breaking safety protocols. Manager 2 is well known for being deeply unpleasant, her and my boss have been at odds for years from working together at another location, and has frequently tried to egg on other employees to get our boss in trouble while refusing to make any formal complaints herself. If you’ve been following for a while, she’s the same ass-kisser who used to say my old boss could break any rules she wanted and allowed herself to be constantly demeaned in hopes of a promotion (10 years without a promotion and she thinks it’s unfair rather than realizing she’s mean and unpleasant, chooses to attack the people who do get the promotions she wants). I know there’s a way to spin those two plotting against my boss as a way to cast some doubt on their accounts of me, but no way to do it without being a blatant shit disturber who’s just retaliating. Which is not how I want to live my life. But he deserves a heads up.

-Now I’m sitting at home with an arts and craft project I came up with to give my coworkers all a gift before the New Year and no desire to do it. Like, fuck these people, why should I do something nice for them? Even though I know the majority are good people, just not the ones in management. No energy, completely lethargic (yay depressive episode and still no antidepressants because I can’t get ahold of a goddamn psychiatrist even though my GP okayed the antidepressants herself), wishing I just could get a better job but I need the insurance at mine. It’s one thing to be constantly belittled and insulted by customers (and a very big thing, at that), but to get it from coworkers too just makes me feel awful, day in and day out. I know I’ve hated my job for the entire 3 and a half years I’ve been there and bemoaned how much less interwork drama I’ve had at every other job I’ve had (so I don’t think it’s all me, many agree it’s a toxic environment likened to a high school), but quitting a job you’re great at, passionate about (at times), live super close to, that gives you insurance, during a pandemic? Harder than it looks.

Life sux. Super anxious for tomorrow. Thanks for reading. Pls don’t reblog.

[itsmyusualweeb]

nobody loves you like I love you, darling

Title: nobody loves you like I love you, darling - (ao3) Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: Smoking  Rating: T Summary: Kirishima always finds Bakugou at the parties, no matter where Bakugou goes.

Author Notes: day 2 of the bakugou-centric @explodoweek. read my explodoweek2020 masterlist.

~~~

“Hey.” A quiet voice behind Bakugou. “You comin’ inside or are you gonna stay out here all night?”

Bakugou didn’t bother turning around. He took another long drag from his cigarette and let the smoke trail from his lips as he replied, “Nah. You comin’ out here or are you gonna socialise all night?”

Feet padded gently against the terracotta floor of the balcony. “It’s Iida’s anniversary party, come on,” Kirishima chided gently. He drifted into the corner of Bakugou’s vision, a red-maned beast of a man with hands that could crush a skull but the kindest face Bakugou had ever seen. He leaned against the railing that Bakugou was slumped over.

Bakugou inhaled another lungful of noxious smoke and side-eyed Kirishima. He’d only been out here ten minutes, but of course Kirishima had found him. They always migrated to each other in these sorts of get-togethers. They’d been hard to get apart in high school and it hadn’t changed over the years since they’d graduated.

Kirishima sighed, gaze drifting to the horizon and the slowly sinking sun. He was seeing what Bakugou had been surveying for the past few minutes. It was a nice view, with the distant line of skyscrapers and the splashed colours of the sunset, but then, it was Iida’s house. Of course it was nice.

“Deku here yet?” Bakugou asked finally. He frowned at his cigarette and took another pull from it, despite its dangerously short length. It wasn’t like it would burn him, not with his calloused and burn-toughened palms.

Kirishima turned and rested his elbows against the railing, face tilted toward Bakugou. The light from inside fell across his face, highlighting the sharp corners of his jaws and cheeks. He was unusually smooth-shaved; by this time of the night, he usually had a delicious smattering of stubble, but he had shaved before they’d come over. “Not yet,” he said. “He and Todoroki had that job in Arakawa. Uraraka said that they’re on the way, though.”

“Fuckers,” Bakugou grumbled. “Always do more than they need to. It’s annoying.”

“Yeah, well.” Kirishima reached out and took the cigarette from Bakugou’s fingers. “You think everything Deku does is annoying.” He tapped the ashes from the cigarette and then lifted it to his mouth. His lips pursed around it, dragging the last remnants of smoke from its dying embers, and then he lowered it and crushed it against the metal railing.

Bakugou stole the crushed nub back from him. “That shit’s bad for you,” he said, and closed his fingers around it. His palm cracked fiercely, like the sound of stepping on firecrackers, and then he dropped the dash of smoking ashes.

“Is it?” said Kirishima, sounding amused. He glanced past Bakugou to the sliding doors that led inside. Bakugou could hear some music begin, something low and rhythmic that suggested Jirou had hooked up her phone to the speakers. There was a distant murmur of conversation, the thirty-odd guests talking constantly. It wasn’t too bright in there, or too dark, but Bakugou had left anyway.

Kirishima sidled closer, one of his legs knocking against Bakugou’s. His eyes were a soft amber in the light, gaze fixed to Bakugou. “Your ears still hurting?” he asked softly.

Bakugou wanted to dig out another cigarette, but he’d already had five today, and that was his self-restricted limit. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of gum instead, popping a few tabs into his mouth. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Fuckin’ battle this afternoon. That vibration villain fucked up my aids.”

Frowning, Kirishima reached out a hand and brushed careful fingers over the small device behind Bakugou’s right ear. There was a matching one behind his left. “You should’ve gone home to grab your extra pair.”

Bakugou offered him the pack of gum, but Kirishima shook his head, so he slipped it back in his pocket. “No time,” he said. He’d barely had enough time to get back to the agency and start on his fuckton of paperwork before he had to come here. “It’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.” But Kirishima was settling back down, shoulders at ease, head rolled back a little as he peered at Bakugou through lowered eyelashes. It’d taken them a while to actually communicate with each other, to tell the entire truth and not just what they wanted to hear, but they were partners now, and there was no partnership in untruths. Even in little ones like this. It would be fine.

“You wanna go to that sushi place in Shibuya tomorrow?” Kirishima asked. “It’s our day off, and I’ve been craving sashimi.”

Bakugou crossed his arms on the railing and leaned against it. If he looked to the side, he would be centimetres from Kirishima’s face. Instead, he frowned at the cherry blossom tree just below him. “Why don’t we just pick up the ingredients on the way home and I’ll make it?

Kirishima laughed, something small and breathy that brushed against Bakugou’s cheek. A sound like that should not physically be able to come out of such a broad-chested guy. “We always do that because you’re so picky. Let’s go out for once. We won’t have to do dishes, we can just spend our time and have a nice night out.”

“Hmm.” Bakugou squinted harder at the tree. It was tempting, but he knew damn well that he could make sushi better than that restaurant, no matter how much Kirishima liked the owners. Well, the owners liked Kirishima, too. He’d punched a villain through their window once and had come back the next day to help with repairs.

Kirishima poked him in the side. “Come on, you know you want to. Please? Please?”

“Fuck, whatever,” Bakugou relented. “Fine.”

Kirishima grinned, and it was so blinding that Bakugou, like Icarus tempted by the sun, glanced directly at him. He was beautiful, somehow innocent-looking despite his brutally-sharp teeth and the scar over his eyelid. There was a new scar on his jaw, a jagged rip that was still slightly pinked from its creation a few months ago when he’d been helping civilians from the rubble of a destroyed building and a villain had blindsided him. Bakugou had thrown their opponent through three walls for that. Individually. The scar didn’t lend him an intimidating air, though; if anything, it made his face look softer, kinder.

“You’re pretty,” said Bakugou, and was rewarded immediately by Kirishima’s blush. It crawled up his cheeks, painting them a pale pink, and he ducked his head, laughing quietly.

“Says you,” he said, as if Bakugou had never said it to him while walking hand-in-hand on a pier next to the ocean, after fighting down a villain when they were both worn and bloody, in the shower after a morning run, tangled in bed together half-asleep.

“Yeah. Says me.” Bakugou finally returned the poke, shoving his finger into Kirishima’s stomach. It gave beneath his touch, Kirishima probably too relaxed to pull up any sort of defence against it.

Kirishima snorted a little giggle-laugh, again a noise far too adorable for him to legally be allowed to produce, and batted Bakugou’s hand away. One would think that he’d be less sensitive to touches like that, with his quirk, but it was the opposite. He was much more ticklish than Bakugou, and Bakugou had taken full advantage of that at times.

“Deku!” came a cry from inside, probably Uraraka. She had a set of lungs on her, that was for sure.

Bakugou sighed and pulled himself away from the railing. That might as well be his cue to mingle with the crowd once more. Deku would start hunting for him after a few minutes, anyway.

He held out a hand for Kirishima, and Kirishima took it, using it as leverage to pull himself off the railing. It creaked as he did so, probably not meant for the combined weight of two muscle-hardened heroes.

“Come on,” said Bakugou. “Let’s go fucking socialise.”

~~~

read my explodoweek2020 masterlist.

[blueposthings]

Little Informant (pt. 1)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 1.6k+

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

You’ve always lived your life on the edge, having a father who was the STRIKE team’s commander for SHIELD does that to you. You’ve never slept without a gun on your bedside table since you were ten years old. And when your father didn’t return after going on a mission that one night three years ago, you’ve expected and prepared for the worst. However, despite the absence of your father in that fairly long period of time, you’ve always hoped against hope that he will come back one day. He always did, even that time he returned with horrific injuries all over his body that you had to tend everyday for months until it healed.

That’s why you’ve never touched his belongings, you’ve never entered his room, just like he always told you to –claiming that it was for your own safety, the information that you might find in his room might put you in danger –and you knew better than to disobey.

But now that it has hit the third anniversary of his disappearance, you felt like it was the right time to let him go. To let your hope go.

You sat in his room that has gone untouched for the last three years, rummaging through his stuff. That’s when you found his trusty ‘ol laptop. Though a bit inappropriate at the current circumstances, you thought about selling it. You’ve been working four part time jobs to cover your living expenses, and sometimes  that’s not even enough and you were forced to pickpocket from people on the streets to last another day, so it seemed sensible.

But it had to be hidden for a reason, you thought. So you turned it on to check for any top secret files that might fall in to the wrong hands if you sell the laptop just like that.  However, what you found was not something you expected. Instead of files and information on SHIELD, it was HYDRA. Missions upon missions that was labelled “completed”.

The most shocking part? Your father was involved in every single one of them. Whether it be the man in charge or the executioner, his name is always on those files.

And that was not all, you found out that your father, after leaving HYDRA, had formed a team called Hero Mercs. Apparently his last mission was with them, in Lagos, Nigeria. In addition, you also found a list of unfinished missions. At this point you were surprised that World War III was still not happening, for now at least.

After pondering for two sleepless nights, you decided to do the pragmatic thing. You got up from your bed, and pull out your own laptop. Thanks to the fact that your father lived a dangerous life –and therefore so did you, you learnt how to do a thing or two most kids your age were not able to do. That includes hacking in to even the world’s most secured systems, of course you didn’t do it often, usually you only use your skills to hack in to your school’s website to change a few Cs in your report card, but now it seemed like the only thing that would work. And you proceed to hack in to the The Avengers Facility’s main system. You didn’t do much, just made a few changes here and there and you left your message,

“To: Stark. Canal St., Tomorrow 11 PM. THIS IS NOT A THREAT”.

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

To untrained eyes, the glimpses of shadow on top of the buildings are just birds –not Hawkeye, White Wolf, nor Falcon, the man reading the newspapers on the bench is just a regular citizen and definitely not the infamous Steve Rogers, the woman on the parked motorbike is just on her phone –not Black Widow talking to her in-ear.

You sighed to yourself, “I don’t even know why I tried.”

Despite all the uninvited guests, you approached the man leaning on one of the pillars, hiding under his hoodie and cap even though it was near midnight. You tighten your grip on the USB in your jacket pocket and took a deep breath before walking to his line of sight.

“You didn’t seem to understand what I meant when I say ‘not a threat’,” You spoke, announcing your arrival.

The man in front of you crooked his head to the side a little, obviously not expecting to meet a young teenager in this situation. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I think you heard me just fine, Mr. Stark.” You smiled politely.

“That was you?” He voiced.

“I did say it wasn’t a threat,” You exhorted. “You can call off your guard dogs now,”

Tony hesitated for a second before continuing, “Can’t be too careful,”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself then.”

“Why are we here?” He questioned.

You pulled out the USB from your pocket and showed it to him. “For this.”

“And what is that?”

“Something you might want, even if you don’t you should take it anyways.” You noted. “The safety of the world might depend on it.”

“Is that so, huh?” He challenged before taking a closer look at you. “Let me get this straight, a what- twelve year old? Hacked to my building, one of the most secured building in history and says they want to meet, then claim they have a secret for world peace?”

“First off, I’m not twelve.” You began. “Second, that’s not what I said. Listen, I’m trying to be nice and polite here, but you’re making it very hard.”

Tony then appears to be listening to his in-ear before saying, “shut up, Rogers.” Then you saw a shadow approaching from where you had seen Captain America sitting earlier. You watched him walk near with a small smile on his face, and you returned the gesture.

“I’m sorry, kid, it’s just hard to believe that someone your age- or anyone at all, really- can hack in to The Avengers HQ.” He said as he stopped in front of the two of you.

You nodded, “I get that, and trust me, I wouldn’t do so if it wasn’t important.”

Steve then took the USB from your hand. “So what’s this?”

“You ever heard of the Hero Mercs?” You asked, shoving your hands back in to your pocket.

“No.” Tony answered.

“I’ll explain later.” Steve glanced over to his friend before turning back to you, “I have, what about it?”

“That consists of some –if not all of their plans, past and future. Hit list, nuclear codes, locations of bio-hazard materials, the whole nine yards. End of the world, basically.”

“Hold up,” Tony interrupted. “Come again?”

“Hero Mercs, is –was an organization of terrorist and highly skilled mercenary. It was led by Brock Rumlow.” Steve explained to his companion, not noticing how you tensed up at the mention of your late father.

“Brock Rumlow? That name sound familiar.” Tony pondered aloud.

“He was a SHIELD agent, one of the best. But it turns out he was working for HYDRA the whole time.” Steve recalled for the younger.

“Ah,” realization hit his face. “I remember that bastard-”

You cleared your throat, bringing their attention back to you. “That’s what I came here for, to give you that. I’m gonna go now,”

Before you could turn Steve grabbed you by the arm. “How did you find this information?” He interrogated.

“Somewhere,” you shrugged off his grip, “it doesn’t matter where I got it.”

“Of course it matters, kid.” Tony spoke up. “We have to know whether your sources –whether you are reliable or not.”

You sighed and considered your options. There was no point in lying really. “A laptop.”

“Whose?” Steve pushed.

“Brock Rumlow’s,” you muttered.

“And how in the hell did you get your hands on Rumlow’s laptop?” Tony hissed.

Steve gave Tony a side glare before composing himself. “Kid, how did you get Rumlow’s laptop?”

You turned your eyes to the ground for a second before staring the older men in the eye. “He was my father.”

Then it was silent –you swore you heard someone mutter “what the hell?” behind you, sounded like Barnes.

“You serious?” Tony croaked.

“Why would I lie?” You affirmed strongly but you gaze was starting to waver.

“You’re Rumlow’s kid?” Steve inquired, still in a state of shock.

“Yes, I am,” you sighed. “Look if you don’t trust me, I don’t blame you. My father had done a lot of messed up shit in the past, I can’t right his wrong –he’s done too much wrong. I only found out a few days ago, but I just- I don’t know, I guess this is just me trying to prove to myself that I’m not like him. I just want you to take that, whether you actually do something about it or not, that’s your decision. The important thing is I’ve done my part.”

Steve snapped out of his trance as you walked away, he then once again stopped you from doing so by stepping in front of you. You looked up at him and he studied your face. It was just then that he could point out the similarities you and your father have, your eyes, the high bridge of your nose, your sharp jawline. And suddenly he was thrown back to three years ago, when he watched Rumlow get thrown to his death.

“Shit,” he whispered under his breath as he lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry. If I had known I would’ve figured something else out.”

Before you can ask what he meant, he continued.

“I shouldn’t have killed him.” He said quietly, but you heard nevertheless.

Your eyes shot back up to him in surprise before you chuckled a humorless laugh. “That’s new information for me.”

Once again surprise was written on his face, not a second later, it was replaced by guilt and regret. “I’m sorry.” He repeated.

“Me too.” You said quietly. Then you stepped away from him, continuing to walk away.

“You can’t just leave!” You heard Stark call but you didn’t stop.

“He’s right, kid. It’s dangerous out there for you to be alone.” Steve agreed.

“I’ll manage. How do you think I survived the past three years?”

Part 2

[unstable-reality]

Remember to Forget

Phew! Feared I might not get this up in time (I thought I’d given myself a week to write it, but it turned out I’d misread things and only given myself two days. *facepalm*). 

Anyway: here’s Jyn, Cassian, and a significant date.

[AO3]

.

.

Jyn wasn’t one to mark anniversaries or events. She preferred, whenever possible, to ignore the passage of time. It was easier that way; made for fewer reminders. She didn’t have to think or care about the things she’d done, or the people she’d known, because there was only today, only the next meal, the next job, the next distraction, the next helmet to drive her boot into. No future, no past, and in theory, no pain.

But things had changed. A hatch had opened.

She stood in front of her locker, hesitating. She was packed and ready, her bag slung over her shoulder, but now that it was time to go, there were nerves blossoming in her belly. It was silly. The mission was a simple thing -- Cassian’s first off-base assignment since Scarif, transparently designed to ease him back into field work -- and it had nothing to do with tomorrow’s Standard date, or with the memories she’d lately had trouble holding back. Then again, the mission wasn’t really the problem.

She closed her eyes, breathed. Adjusted her bag. I’m fine. This is fine. Everything is fine. The door to her locker clicked shut. Her bunkmate had stuck a calendar to the wall. She didn’t look at it.

The corridors of Home One were bright, sterile, and nowhere near as crowded as they should have been. Jyn nodded to a soldier, was acknowledged by another, and then another. She was starting to recognize and be recognized by a surprising amount of people. Well, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising, given the givens, but it still took her aback, when she paused to think about it. She’d spent years as a transient. She wasn’t sure how she felt about having place, about being known again. At times, it felt very, very good. At others, it made panic well up behind her ribs. Right now, it was somewhere in between. She stepped out onto the hangar. The patrol was changing over; one squadron was approaching the bay, marshalled by a deck crew in baggy uniforms. A second was hopping into their X-wings, dragging down their helmets. She wondered at the overlap between that and her departure time, and then she thought of Bodhi, and wondered whether he was in either group. They’d had a lot of conversations, over the past couple of months, many of them about her father. Did he know? She could talk to him, probably. Not that either of them were available right now.

Not that it mattered. Because it didn’t, and it hadn’t, in years and years and years.

Cassian was waiting outside their ship, arms crossed. He didn’t quite smile at her. It was a reserved expression, for an ordinary person, but when worn by him, it felt like so much more. “I started to think you might not be coming.”

Her fist tightened around the strap of her bag. “I’m on time.”

“You’re five minutes late.”

Ah. That explained the overlap with the shift change. She supposed she’d known that. She shrugged. Beyond Cassian, she caught a glimpse of K-2, tinkering with a control panel.

“Hello, Kay. You’re looking well.”

He stilled. His head rotated toward her, slowly. The lights of his eyes winked out, winked back on. She was needling him, and she was doing it because it was its own sort of distraction. Her heart was thumping like the stupid thing that it was. She had to take her mind off it somehow.

“Jyn Erso,” he said. Droids couldn’t sigh, but it sounded like he had. “It’s very nice of you to join us. I’m thrilled.”

She huffed. It was a shame he couldn’t remember. She’d have to offer him her blaster again, one of these days.  

She looked back at Cassian. The lines around his eyes and mouth had deepened. He looked amused. His gaze bounced to her bag, to her lips, back up to her eyes. He nodded, and then turned toward the open hatch. “Let’s go.”

Her stomach churned. Her heart hadn’t slowed. She breathed deep, and swallowed, and followed him on board.

-

-

They hadn’t spent a lot of time together. She’d thought it would be more, after everything, but in hindsight, that seemed foolish. He’d been doing a lot of physical therapy, and she’d been integrating into the Alliance, and their schedules hadn’t lined up all that often, and even after he was fully healed, they’d still be on separate duty much of the time. She ought to lower her expectations. Still, when they had been able to see one another, it had been...nice, in a way that she wanted to get used to. She hadn’t wanted that sort of thing in a long time.

She didn’t want to screw it up.

She sat in the cabin. She’d wedged herself into a nook, leaned her head against the wall. Durasteel amplified the sound of the air filtration system and piped it back into her ear. She mentally inventoried her weapons. She had her truncheon, and a few knives of varying lengths. There were two blasters in her pack. She thought of the world they were headed to. She thought of the city. There was a festival underway, which would serve as additional cover: off-worlders would draw less attention. She began to think about why she’d been tagged for this -- because Cassian wasn’t 100%, so he needed back-up; because he’d specifically asked for her -- but got off it.

She thought of Lah’mu. She thought of a moment, with lights and smiles and laughter, and her mother bending to kiss her father’s cheek, and him looking up at her, from his chair, with soft, kind eyes.

She rubbed her temples. The engine hummed and rumbled up through her lower half. K-2 said something to Cassian, who responded flatly. A part of her wanted to go up front, but there was an ache in her chest, and it rooted her to the floor. It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t.

He came back to her, after the craft had dropped out of hyperspace. His face was impassive. She got the impression that he was reading her, that he was evaluating. It would be just her luck, wouldn’t it, if he could tell she had shit going on. You don’t have shit going on, and it’s not the first time he’s seen you.

“We’re preparing to land.”

“Good. I’ll get my things.”

She rose, collected her bag. He watched. He extended an arm, planting his elbow on the wall and his fist against an abutment on the ceiling. “We’ll be here for a few days, as a cushion.” It was a strange thing for him to say, as if he were trying to fill the silence.

“I know.”

The air thickened. She didn’t look at him, but she could feel him looking at her, feel his stance shifting. What was she doing? It was just a day, it was just a stupid day, and it had nothing to do with him, nothing at all.

“Right,” he said. She could hear his intake of breath. He tapped the abutment, then moved past her, quickly, and gathered his own things.

-

-

Her datapad was blinking.

She sat in their hotel room, on the edge of her bed. Cassian was in the fresher. Muffled sounds of revelry drifted up from the street. Her hands curled and uncurled around her comforter. It probably wasn’t a wise move, but she’d messaged Bodhi shortly after they’d settled in. She didn’t know what was wrong with her. She’d never wanted, or needed, to talk to anyone before. Of course, she’d also never bothered remembering.

She reached for the device, and let out a long, slow breath.

Hi Jyn. It’s not a strange question at all. Yeah, I knew. He mentioned it last year. How are you doing?

She squeezed her eyes shut. Her chest burned, and her throat tightened.

I’m fine. How are you?

She stared at the cursor. Shifted around. Even if he was in a position to check his messages, and replied immediately, the distance would still cause a delay. Cassian emerged, looking put-together, professional. Well-dressed. It was fine. Everything was fine. He blinked at her.

“Bodhi,” she said. “I see.”

The datapad vibrated. She glanced down.

I don’t know. Feels weird.

It was odd, but somehow, until now, she hadn’t realized how close Bodhi had gotten to her father. All the talking they’d done, and it was this that drove it home. What was she to do with that? She was still getting used to letting people be there for her, and to being there for them in return. It felt like lifting an atrophied limb.

We can talk when I get back.

Could they? Really?

Yeah, okay.

Cassian was still standing there. The exchange had taken several minutes, and he’d just waited it out. It occurred to her that that was significant. Guilt stabbed at her chest.

It had nothing to do with him. Her pulse was racing, and it had nothing to do with him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, after she’d gone for a stretch without typing.

She dropped the datapad onto the bedside table. “Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go.”

His eyebrows dipped. His gaze fell to the floor. He’d read her again, at least in part, but she didn’t want to volunteer information. He sighed. “Good.” Started to take a step, stopped. His body went rigid. His eyes closed, his lips compressed into a thin line. A shadow fell over his face. He clenched his fists, and she saw his throat work, and she straightened, leaned forward, prepared to...do something. And then, as abruptly as it had started, it passed. He looked at her. Flashed a quick, tight smile.

Huh. Seemed he had his own shit.  

They took the lift down to the ground floor. The last time they’d been in one, they’d clung to each other, and she’d looked at his face, and into his eyes, and felt a deep and desperate longing. Now, they stood side by side, with a respectable distance between them. Don’t screw it up. The door opened, and she swallowed, and they moved through the lobby, and then out into the world. Something bore down on her heart. They had only to meet with a contact; Cassian had only to confirm a transaction. It wasn’t a big deal. But the air was full, and so was the street.

There were people everywhere. They were singing. There were instruments, their sounds wafting over and cutting through the crowd. There were noisemakers and streamers. There were children running and hollering. There was a familiarity to it that tickled something in her mind. It would have to be related, wouldn’t it? Of course these things would come in bunches, rather than one at a time.

Cassian’s side knocked into hers. He placed his fingertips on her lower back, and bent toward her ear. “Stay close to me,” he said, his breath washing over the side of her face. The points of contact were hot. It felt natural to lean into him and wind her own arm around his lower back. He acquiesced. She breathed.  

She thought of Eadu. Kriff.

This near to him, it was hard not to acknowledge her nerves. The reason for them was peering at her from around a corner. Her pulse raced.

It was fine. She was fine.

The ground dipped unexpectedly. Beside her, Cassian stiffened, and his breath hitched. She looked up at him, narrowed her eyes. She could have just ignored it again -- should have, really -- but her concern for him won out.

“Are you all right?”

The hand on her back went as stiff as the rest of him. “Yes,” he replied, a tad gruffly. He met her gaze. “Are you?”

Well. That wasn’t fair at all. She stared at him. They’d come to a stop; they were at the edge of the crowd, but streams of people still parted around him. Music pounded in her head. Its rhythm clashed with the beat of her heart, which was fast and foolish.

“Yeah. Course.”

He shook his head, made an exasperated noise. “Right.” His hand fell away. The spot where it had been felt cold and empty.

Why did it have to be this way? If she didn’t want to screw things up, then why did she seem to be doing just that? She didn’t know how to balance it. Maybe it was too much to hope for, nurturing whatever it was that was growing between them, while blocking off a part of herself, stalling a conversation that she dreaded.

She sighed, swallowed. He knew that she was off; she had to give him something to work with. She was opening her mouth to speak when she caught a glimpse of a woman and a man, pausing beside a building. There was a little girl between them, adjusting the straps on her boots with slow, half-practiced movements. She was very small, and very young, and on her shoulders, there lay two brown braids.

It clicked, all of the things that had been familiar. All-Species Week. She could hardly remember that day, but the few impressions that remained were more than enough. The pair of hastily packed bags. The tense, breathless walk through colorful, chaotic streets. The press of bodies. Her mother’s agitation. Her father, clutching her to his chest. The ship. The flight. Saw, and his map.

You’ve chosen a good home for us, Stardust.

Kriff. The air was heavy, and too warm. It was hard to breathe. Cassian frowned at her.

“...Jyn?”

“I need a second.” She pushed her way off the street, placed her palms against the wall of a building. The corners of her eyes stung.

This was stupid. It shouldn’t bother her so much. It shouldn’t matter, any of it. She’d been so good at not thinking about it, about leaving the past where it lay, but now… Things had changed. A couple of months ago, things had changed. She’d seen him. She’d spoken to him, and she’d watched him die. The past had mattered then. Oh, how it had mattered, so much so that it had turned her into a blubbering mess, and then it had lit her skin on fire.

Footsteps, behind her and then next to her. Cassian, his brow creased with concern. She forced herself to turn and straighten, so that they were facing each other, their shoulders to the wall.

He was very close to her. “Jyn, what is going on?”

She didn’t want to tell him. Force, there was no use turning away from it, now, because it did have to do with him. Kriff, kriff, it did. She didn’t want to tell him, because he’d almost been the one to kill him, and she didn’t want to bring that back up, didn’t want to have to deal with it. She’d been ignoring it, because not ignoring it might ruin everything. She liked him. Kriff, she liked him, she wanted to get to know him, she wanted to spend more time with him, she wanted to keep working with him, and getting anywhere near the circumstances surrounding their meeting could jeopardize that.

“Jyn, please. Talk to me.”

And then, just like that, she blurted it out: “It’s his birthday.”

He stilled. “What?”

Her throat was stuffed with balled-up linen. “It’s my father’s birthday.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

He exhaled. His shoulders relaxed and fell forward. He looked off to the side for a moment, then back at her. “I’m…” His throat bobbed. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”

Yeah. He sure was. She felt her thoughts, and her heart, angle away from him. She felt a spark of old anger, the very thing she’d hoped to keep from coming back. She blinked. Tears clung to her eyelashes. His expression was so earnest. His hands were hovering, like he wanted to touch her, but wasn’t sure how, or whether he should.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s clearly not.”

“Neither is your back.”

He breathed hard through his nose. “No, but it’s where it should be, and it’s getting better.” He pursed his lips, and tapped her arm. “C’mon. We’re going back to the hotel.”

She frowned. “Your contact.”

“We arranged to meet within a window. We have time.”

She was a fool. And ridiculous. And a mess. She wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him that the mission was more important, a sentiment she was pretty sure he’d get behind. She wanted to be back on a distraction. But she knew it was too late for that.

“Okay.”

He closed his hand around her arm, and she let him lead her back.

-

-

They sat next to each other, the sides of their hands barely touching. Outside, a popular song was taken up, and hundreds of voices belted out the words.

“He called you Stardust.”

She nodded. “He could be very sentimental.” Except when he couldn’t. Her memories of Mac-Vee were as washed out as her memories of the escape from Coruscant, but she knew what they meant. “And when we were on Lah’mu, he tried to make it…” Seem simple. Normal. Happy.

She recalled him sitting in a darkened corner of the kitchenette, his features sharpened by shadow. One hand had been wrapped around a glass; the other had bracketed his forehead, thumb and forefinger pressed into his temples. He’d drunk silently and alone, and she’d watched him until, at length, he’d noticed her, and pushed the glass aside. Something had passed over his face, and then it had been replaced by a half-smile. “What are you doing up?”

Wondering.

In retrospect, it occurred to her that he’d never purposely drank in front of her, after Coruscant. It had been part of the illusion.

Her head hung. Her chin touched her collar bone. It was hard to talk about this. It was terrible. It wasn’t what she’d wanted. She was crying again, and she hated it.

“He loved you.”

Her whole body went taut. Her thoughts jumped, danced, skittered. She held her breath, and everything was ready, ready, like she was on the edge of a fight.

“He would have been proud of you.”

Her head swung toward him. Hadn’t he already said that? She couldn’t be sure.

Cassian was breathing, and blinking. She considered that the spark hadn’t lit. The anger hadn’t been strong enough. He looked her in the eye, and leaned forward.

“I’m sorry, Jyn.”

It wasn’t what she’d expected. He shouldn’t be reacting the way he was. They shouldn’t be having this conversation, and even if they were, it shouldn’t be calm, and it shouldn’t be making her feel better, and it wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The past hurt. Because it hurt, people recoiled when confronted by it. People left. People betrayed. They had a past, she and Cassian, despite their short history, and that was a kriffing liability. They ought to be dispensing with it. They ought to be pretending it wasn’t anything, carrying on with all the talking and touching as if nothing had come before.

But she couldn’t live that way anymore, whether she’d accepted it or not. The hatch was open.

“I know.”

His tears hadn’t fallen, but they clouded his eyes. She folded her hand over his. He inhaled. They made eye contact. Something warm sprouted in her chest, spread outward. She realized that she wasn’t screwing it up. There was no fighting, and no rejection; he was trying, same as her, and goodness, it felt good just to say, just to have someone hear. She took it further, and heart pounding, veins burning, she realized that there was a way to distract herself and get to know him at the same time.

“Tell me about your parents.”

[brattywriters-anonymous]

I’m Never Wrong

Erik x Reader story

Warnings: This story is really long. I’m warning you now. Smut, SoftErik! RedeemedErik!

32 days before Christmas

I gotten in from work pretty late tonight. Working on all of these damn briefs and defenses so I can be case free for the Holidays. Erik hates when I bring work home so I always either don't or I hide it and work in the office when he's out or sleep. Tonight, I chose not to bring it home. The slave ship that is Lawman & Sholtz Associates got fifteen hours out of me today. It's almost 11 PM and I just want a glass of wine in my bed. I walk into a dark foyer and an even darker living room. Erik is usually in there playing Fortnite or Battlegrounds, cursing out little nine year olds on live. This is the quietest my house has ever been since we moved in six months ago! It's truly been an adjustment living with N'jadaka Stevens-Udaku. He is the noisiest, nosiest, grumpiest roommate I've ever had!

That's including my law school roommate, Phoebe. She never liked having company over, same as Erik. She was hella territorial over food that we both bought, same as Erik! They both even have a mean snoring problem. I'm pretty sure if I could find the damn girl and let them meet, they would hit it off they're so much alike!"

Babe?! You home?!" I yell out, silence. I dropped my briefcase, coat, and keys on the floor so I can lose my uncomfortable ass heels. "I know he better be home tonight! He knows it's our.." "Baby! I'm back here! Bring yo ass, woman!" I quickly shimmy out of my pencil skirt and blazer down the hallway. I just know I'm in for a long night tonight. It's our three year anniversary. It's also been two years since I almost lost his dumb ass, tryna chase a throne with nothing but rage and oppression on his heart.

"Hey bae, I'm ba--" FAP! A sharp slap landed on his right cheek, he couldn't even react to it before he felt a jab connect to his left one. "You got some fucking nerve coming back here! Six months N'jadaka!? You said you would be back in a week or two! How the fuck did that turn into six--fucking--months!?" My last three words turned into three more punches. He grabbed my wrists with one hand and used his other hand to push me against the back of the door. "Look baby, I'm sorry. I went to Wakanda and shit went left, okay? I beat my cousin in ritual combat, I thought I killed him. I was about to send the vibranium weapons out to our wardogs and come back to you. Then, he returned. All hell broke loose and.. I died." My eyes grew wide before I could open my mouth to scream he let go of my hands, "Dont! Hear me out, Y/N. I died. T'challa stabbed me in my chest--" He lifted up his shirt to show me the mostly healed wound. "--I told my cousin if he was gonna lock me up, just let me die. Bury me in the ocean. I guess he chose not to lock me up and he saved me. When I came to, he told me that he bought the old apartment building my father and I lived in and made it an outreach resource center, that it would be the first of many.. That he needs my help in running. Even though it's a small step in the direction of progress, it's a step. I gave Cha my word, I'll help him. But I had to come here and explain myself to the love of my life." I shook my head in disbelief. In disbelief of the entire story! How do you die and come back? Can vibranium do that? Wait. "I'm your what-now?" He smirked and kissed my neck gently, "You're the love of my life. I love you, Y/N." I've never heard this man tell me he loved me before today. He's always tip toed around saying it. Even before he left for six months, his last words to me was, 'I care for you so much baby. Swear I'm coming back for you. On my parents. You coming back home with me.' His stubby finger swiped across my cheek wiping the single tear that fell from it, "I'm sorry. I love you." He embraced me as I cried in his arms, "I love you, Erik."

I get to the doorway to be met by pink candles trailing to our master bath and rose pedals spread throughout the layout of our room. Who's cleaning this up? I approached the door frame to see my fine ass man in nothing but a towel, accompanied with two flutes full of champagne. "What is this?" "This is for you, gorgeous." He hands me a glass and I gladly take a sip, I been waiting all day for this. Bollinger Brut Rose, my favorite. I moaned at the bubbles hitting my nose with that sweet aroma. It's what I imagine what heaven must be like. "I been waiting on you to get this bath started. I didn't want the water getting cold so.." He starts filling up the tub as I tell him about my day with these colonizers stressing me out, I thanked him for the lunch and edible arrangement that he sent me. "You ate it all, didn't you?" I raised my eyebrows at his question and throw back the rest of my champagne, "Mhm. You know I love chocolate covered strawberries!" He beams at my response, "Good thing I got two dozen and kept the other one here!" He pulls out a dozen of the delectable fruit on ice. "God, I love you. Have I told you that?" He shrugs, "A time or two." I laugh and jump up, "The bath!"

--

We settle in the bathtub with our refilled glasses and strawberries on hand, then he grabs something else. It's pretty dim in the bathroom so I really can't make out what it is. "Any more surprises, lover boy?" I tilt my head backwards to see his boyish grin as he nods and holds out a ball. "I went to lush." I gasp and squeal "You hate that place baby!" "I know! I wanted to make tonight special for you. I know I ain't always the best. I'm not the happiest camper in the woods all the time, but you put up with that shit. You always make sure I'm as happy as I can be. So I'm tryna make tonight as special as possible for you. For us." I turn myself around to face him and give him a long, passionate kiss. This is single-handedly the best anniversary ever. Especially considering the first was the worst, the second was when he finally came back from Wakanda and that one wasn't any better. He's really making up for that. He breaks our contact, "Damn baby, you gon make me drop it!" "What did you get?" He pondered on the question, "Uh, I told the lady it's our anniversary and you love the place, I told her what smells you didn't like and she gave me this..She said its a..sex bomb I think." I shake my head, "Oh, so you tryna really get it poppin' tonight, huh?" "Hell yeah, Y/N. You thought you was getting away with what you did this morning?" I look up to the ceiling in deep thought, "I'm sorry, I do not recall." He nudges me, "Oh, so you don't remember how I woke you up, told you you were moaning in your sleep--" He drops the bath bomb in front of us..as it starts to fizz and the Jasmine aroma releases, he starts caressing my outer thigh, continuing, "--and that I could help you out with that. You let me get you out your pjs, and just as I was about to eat you like my last meal--" He stops to kiss my shoulder, I let out a whine, "Your alarm went off for work and you pushed me off you." He takes a strawberry and devours it whole, sucking all the juice out directly in my ear, making sure I could hear it. Then without moving, he whispers, "You don't remember that baby?" I bite my lip and my eyes darted back at the sex bomb, it's still fizzing. Turning the water to a beautiful lavender hue. "It's coming back to me.." He feels me closing my thighs together, then he places one hand between them, prying them back open. "Nah gorgeous, we not doing that tonight. I already called your job after you left. You not even getting out of bed tomorrow unless you coming in here, let alone going to work. I called out for you." His finger grazed past my clit as he said it, distracting me, I let out a muffled moan. "Damn..this bath is working. Otherwise I'd be curs--ooh!" Erik takes his other hand to wrap it around my neck and firmly press against that spot that makes me wet every single time, "You not cursing me out, you gon thank me tomorrow for how I'm about to tear you up tonight. You ready for it, Y/N?" I nod, words are completely out of the question while he's giving me this euphoric feeling. He huffs, "Imma let you slide this time gorgeous, but you know when I ask you something, I wanna hear an answer." He releases his hold, "Right?" "Yes sir."

"Good. Good. Now, back to these." He feeds me a strawberry, "So, remember our first date?" I burst out into laughter, "How it was about to be our only date, yes!" "Aye! I told you I was late because--" "Yeah, yeah. Because you robbed a museum and you almost got arrested but the cops lost your tail. I thought you were bullshitting." "I wasn't though. I had to make some bread to take you out." I sank deeper into the warm water, "You lucky you're a charismatic SOB, I had all intentions of not giving you a second date." "Look at us now. Living together, you partner at your firm. I'm running the Wakandan outreach center. We living our dreams." He gave me my glass and held his up to mine, "To three years, and a million more." Our glasses clink and I threw my second glass straight back. "Oh so you tryna get it poppin' tonight, huh gorgeous?" I roll my eyes, "Since I'm off tomorrow, hell yeah."

--

We get out of the bathtub and we're practically all over each other. Lush outdid themselves with that bomb. We barely got ourselves dry with the one towel we had between us as we stumbled onto our California King. I straddle him as his hands find their placement around my hips. I hungrily kiss him, occasionally licking his soft bottom lip and pulling it in with mine. He lets out the most beautiful moan I've ever heard in his deep tone. I swear, I can't get any wetter than what I am now. I kiss his outer jaw then whisper close to his ear, "Happy anniversary, baby." I trail kisses back down his jaw, to his neck. He hands move from my hips, through my scalp, running his fingers through my hair as he felt a slightly sharp pain of my bite. He cooed as I left two nice sized hickeys where he likes to be kissed the most. I make my way back up to his lips as I'm grinding into him, he's standing at full attention at this point. He starts mirroring my movements while his fingers are still entangled in my hair. He breaks our kiss and whispers, "So beautiful." I whisper back, "I love you." 

As he opened his mouth to return the sentiment, I grabbed his hard member and dragged it across my dripping slit. His mouth hangs open when I drop down onto it. I bottom myself out as I rock back and forth on him, I just hear 'Ah' over and over as I go each way. I occasionally roll my hips around as he hisses and grabs my hair with full force. My lips go back to his ear, "You like that baby?" I can tell he's biting his lip because I hear a muffled moan come out as I roll my hips around again, "I love it." I kiss his lobe as I groan at his hips crashing into mine. I place more distance between our lower halves, moving up and down on his glistening member. As his head continuously grazes my g-spot, my tone rises. He removes his hands from my hair and return them back onto my hips as he crashes into me harder, making sure to keep the same pace. "Right there, Y/N?" I groan through my answer, "Yes! Right there!" The harder he crashes back into me, the more incoherent my moaning becomes until my voice goes into a falsetto and my first orgasm flows out onto the both of us.

"Ride it out baby, keep going." I'm shaking as my body is trying to give out but his words give me the strength to hold myself up to keep bouncing on him. At this point I'm only hearing the smacking of our skin as we collide and his voice saying my name over and over again, motivating me to keep going. I feel my thighs quivering as he continues hitting my spot, All I could let out was a group of yeses, one higher than the other until my second orgasm surprises me and leaves my entire body quaking. He holds himself right on my g-spot as my walls contract against him, my fluids splashing down my inner thigh onto his pelvis. "Shit, Y/N. Hold up." He digs his hands into my hips and rolls himself on top of me. Once my orgasm finishes washing over me, he starts digging me out like he's on a mission to do it again. He takes his turn to lean into my ear, "You wanna cum again baby?" I yelp as he bottoms me out, holding it there, "Yes!" He pushes himself further up, "Yes, s-ir!" As he almost completely pushes himself out, his hands snake back around my neck and squeezes tight. I become displaced again, the only sense I clearly have left is hearing and I hear myself struggling to groan loudly, splashing, and him yelling my name again. He eases up around my neck and I come back to. I look down and our lower halves are drenched, Erik is looking at me with his eyes halfway shut as he confesses, 

"Baby, I love you so much! You feel so.." I felt my walls involuntarily close around him as I shiver, "Ahh..damn you feel so good." I pull him down to me. Now, we're face to face. He slows his pace all the way down, but the intensity is still present. We're kissing each other through our coos and moans, we both feel my third orgasm creeping up on me. "I love you Erik." I look him in his dark eyes as mine release tears of joy, he wipes one side of my face as he kisses me, slowly pushing in and out of me, "I love you too, Y/N. You're everything--I could ever ask for. I can't be without you. Ever." Erik kisses me again. I open my eyes and I see his fingers fiddling with a ring. I gasp and cover my mouth as more tears are coming down my face, "Marry me. I'm asking you to make me happier than I've ever been. I'm asking you to go through life's ups and downs with me, as one. Marry me, Y/N."

I hold my left hand out, "Yes N'jadaka. Yes!" He places the ring on my finger and I tightly embrace him. He quickly reminds me what we were doing before he asked me to be his wife, pushing himself deeper than he's ever been. I gasp as my nails embed themselves into his muscular back. He pulls back out of me then back to that same spot. I hear a squishing sound that makes me jerk back, he presses back on it making me scream, "N'Jadaka!" he moans in my neck, "Say it again." "N'jada-- ohh!" He drills into me again and again back in that same spot as my orgasm unfolds right then and there. I spill out, more than I ever have before, splashing the sheets, myself, and him. The more he keeps pressing that spot, the more I cum. He huffs out as he lets himself go. We're both shaking and holding onto one another. As he's shooting into me, I'm shooting out on him. He collapses on top of me as we drifted off for the rest of the night.

--

Six days before Christmas "That's everything?" Erik zips up the third suitcase of mine as I'm looking around my room mentally checking off everything that's in my bag. "Yup. That's it." "You plan on leaving me?" I look in his direction, puzzled. "What?" He stretches his arms out over the three large suitcases I have verses the one duffle bag he has. "You literally packed for three people." "No I didn't. Ass. I have two suitcases of clothes, we're gonna be there for two weeks! The third one is for my shoes and toiletries." He shook his head, "This is about to be expensive as fuck." He's right about that. We're going to Toronto this year for Christmas and New Years. My parents moved there about three years ago after my youngest brother moved out. We've never been there so I don't know what to expect weather wise. "You got your passport Erik? We don't have time to turn around if you forget it." He holds two blue booklets up, "I got yours and mine, now lets go." -- WELCOME TO PEARSON INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

I hear over the intercom, my eyes are squinting at the bright lights. Erik and I are hand in hand as we navigate through the busy airport looking for baggage claim. We finally find it and with that we find my parents with a big sign reading, "The Stevens" I cover my face in embarrassment. My mother squeals "Y/N! My baby!" She grabs me up and hugs me really tight, rocking me left and right. "How was your flight?" "A nightmare, ma. Seven hours of the same toddler screaming, people coughing in my personal space..I'm tired. Can we go to the house now?" She nods, "Okay baby. Hello Son! How are you?" He hugs my mom, "I'm good Raina, I was tryna keep her comfortable for the entire flight." "You know how fickle Y/N is about packed flights." "She hates it." They say in unison. "Aye! Enough ragging on my daughter. We both hate crowds in cramped spaces! I'm glad you made it out here to see us, lovebug." My daddy kissed me on the cheek and gave Erik a firm handshake, "It's nice to finally meet my son-in-law to be." "Likewise Mr. Y/L/N." "Call me Wallace, or dad." They both smiled at the informality. 

-- We settled into my parent's house quite nicely, and damn is this house nice. Five bedrooms, Seven bathrooms. A Spacious back yard, a minibar in the living room, the kitchen with white appliances and white marble counter tops, the island in the center. They even have a wine cellar for their vast collection of wines! This is truly their dream house. I'm so happy for them. As a retired physician and banker, they really made their dreams come true as empty nesters. Suddenly, I felt a lump in my throat, like I couldn't swallow my saliva. I shook my head and forcefully swallowed. Not thinking much of it, I head to the kitchen where I bump into my brother, Jordan.

"Hey bighead! Wassup?" I nudge him, "Shit, tryna get some water if you'd move!" He steps aside, "My bad. Daaayym! That must cost a grip!" Jordan grabs my left hand, "Nice. Where's my bro anyway?" I point upward, "Upstairs sleeping, we're hella jet lagged. Where's my sister?" Jordan married Daisa last year, she's expecting their first child in February. "She's in the office, talking to dad about plans for our nursery. You know he's hella excited to be a pop pop." I giggle at the name, "Why don't grandparents ever wanna be called grandpa and grandma?" He shrugs, "I don't know.." "Because we're not old." My mom slides in the kitchen from the wine cellar. She slaps Jordan's hand, "You better get a coaster for that cup! Wash it when you finished, too!" "Okay ma! I'm going to check on Daisa anyway!"

I sit on the island as I gulp down my bottled water. "Have ya'll thought about any plans for the wedding yet, baby?" mom sips some of her Cabernet. I shake my head, "Nah, we've just been so.." "Engulfed into each other that you haven't thought about it?" We laugh at the same time, "What can I say? I really love him, ma." "I know you do, baby. You've been glowing since he asked.." She takes a sip, then continues, "Speaking of glow, you know I dreamed about fishes the other night." My eyes instantly rolled at her phrase, my mom being from Florida, she always has these superstitions. The fish dreams are always on point though. She dreamed about fishes last year, Jordan and Daisa found out they were pregnant. Three years before that she dreamed of fishes, my oldest brother Stephan got his fiancee Joyce pregnant. I shake my head at her, "Maybe Daisa is having the baby early." "Girl, she's carrying too small, that baby is just fine in there until February, maybe even March. Erik has been sleep since you guys got here four hours ago. Jet lag, my ass." I then thought about how my older brothers were before they knew their women were pregnant. The Y/L/N tradition always stood, the woman may have some symptoms, but the men always carried the sleepiness and the over eating. It never failed. My dad gained a total of fifty pounds thanks to the three of us.

Last week

Erik had been staying late at work all week, Friday is finally here and I decided to take a half day and cook his favorite. Fried chicken, brown rice, gravy, collards, and cornbread.  He finally got home as the collards finished boiling down. "Hey babe, whatchu in here cooking?" "My baby's favorite!" I sniffed the aromas from the foyer "Y/N, you want something don't you?" I shook my head as I fed him some greens and kissed his olive oil ridden lips, "I just wanna take care of you tonight. I know you been working late this week, So wash up and get ready for dinner." He pulled me in for another kiss as he smacked my ass, "What about dessert?" I giggled, "Nigga. You get dessert every night. Tonight ain't no different." He stretched his arm out and pulled it back to him, "Yes!"

--

I look at him dumbfounded as he devours his meal like he just got home from prison. Erik is eating everything at once, smacking obnoxiously and moaning. "Is it good?" He nodded as he continued smashing his plate. 

SNAP SNAP! "Y/F/N, Y/M/N! Are you here?!" I blink out of my flashback and swallowed hard, "Uh..yeah. Yeah. I'm here. Uh, I'll be back." I run upstairs to our room and closed the door. Almost out of breath, I drink the rest of the water in the bottle and pull my phone out. I immediately pull up my period tracker app..

Day 38, you are six days late (Pregnant?)

Oh, No. I start pacing around the room. Erik and I never talked about kids. He's awesome with the kids at the outreach center, but those are school aged kids. I've never seen him with a baby, baby. I'm still out of breath, I look over to Erik, his eyes are fluttering..shit, he's about to wake up.

DING DONG!

I hear Stephan's annoying ass scream out, "Food's here!"

-- Silence falls around the dinning room table, nothing but forks hitting plates can be heard, with an occasional sip here and there. I look to my left to see Erik smashing his plate once again, which is putting me off of my food. "Son, have you eaten today? You okay?" My dad asks as he passes Erik the box of takeout. "Blink twice if Y/N is not feeding you!" Stephan jokes as Jordan laughs with him. Erik finally slows down, "Oh, nah. I haven't eaten since breakfast. We had a long flight. I guess I'm really hungry." He looks to his right, lightly headbutting me, I return a nervous grin. "So, I dreamed of fishes the other night!" The entire table groans out except for mom and Erik. Stephan objects, "Man look, it's not us! Joyce is on that ICU thing!" She quickly interjects, "It's an IUD, stupid. I'm not pregnant, Raina. We might revisit the conversation in a year or so, but there's no fishes this way." Joyce holds up her wine glass and throws it back, confirming. I gulp down my sweet tea, which is tasting quite nasty, but I had to get this food down one way or another. My dad looks over at Jordan, Daisa yells out, "It's only one in here! She's not coming until February!" "Maybe March!" My mom interrupts, then winks at me.

Like clockwork, the entire table looks at me and Erik. Erik is still looking confused at the entire conversation, "What's dreaming of fishes about?" "Bro, it means swimmers been swimming! Soldiers been marching!" Stephan throws out the ridiculous figures of speech. Erik looks around the table again then his light bulb turned on, "Ohhhh!" He laughs and goes back to eating, "Nah. If Y/N was pregnant, I would know. Ain't that right, baby?" I laugh with him, "Yeah! Mhm." Everyone shrugs it off and my dad changes the subject to Canadian football. I scoot my chair back and dismiss myself to the upstairs bathroom. That tea really threw my entire meal off, I feel myself heave as I'm climbing the stairs, I shake my head trying to shake off the feeling. Then I heave harder, feeling my dinner come up. I run to the bathroom and made it just in the nick of time to reach the toilet.

"Y/N! You okay, baby?" My mom's voice echos through the east wing of the second floor, I'm still throwing up..not able to answer. She leans against the doorway of the bathroom and smiles at me from the mirror, "I'm never wrong." I wipe my mouth and flush the toilet.

--

Three Days before Christmas

The past three days have been torture. I still hadn't bought a test to confirm or deny mom's allegations. I'm scared to know for sure. Even though I'm sure I am, especially since I throw up every night after dinner, and my mom meets me at the bathroom door with sparkling water like clockwork. Saying the same thing, "I'm never wrong." I cringe just thinking of the way she says it. So arrogantly, like she knew all along it was me. Even before I thought it was me!

I slept in this morning, I woke up around half past noon and went straight to the kitchen. The men of the house cooked a continental breakfast that blessed the entire house with it's great aroma. I was the last significant other to get up for breakfast, so as tradition stood, I had to set the table. "I'll help you sis." Daisa waddles over to the drawer where the silverware was as I went in the pantry to grab the tablecloth.

I fan the cloth out over the table and Daisa follows, laying down the forks and spoons in front of each chair. "You ready for my niece to get here?" She sighed deeply, "YES! Ready is an understatement!" I giggle as I grab the glasses from the china cabinet. "Girl, If I could have her now, I would! She keeps kicking me in my damn ribs like she hates me!" I shake my head as I felt a sharp cramp on my side, I paused as I hold myself where the pain is, "It is you, isn't it?" I look up at her and shrug, "I don't know." She smiles at me, "There's nothing to be scared of, Y/N. That man in there loves you. He's been gawking about you all morning! 'Y/N just made partner at her firm! Y/N is a better cook than me! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.' His world revolves around you. You two will make great parents." Somewhere in the middle of her saying all of that, I start crying. She shushed me as she pulled me into her, "It's okay love. Whenever you ready to find out, we'll go to the store, okay?" I nod as I wipe away my tears.

-- Christmas Eve

"Alright guys, We're going on our last minute Christmas shopping spree! We'll be back--" "Whenever we get done spending your caaaash!" Joyce interrupts my mom as we all laugh out the door. We spend our car ride to Eaton Centre singing along to all the nineties girl group hits. Mom finally finds a parking space and we arrive in the crowded mall. Mom pulls out the directory, "Let's see here, I have to go to the J. Crew to get Wallace his sweater." Joyce joins in, "I have to get SJ his iPad Mini at the Apple store." Daisa links her arm into mine, "I'm done with all my shopping, so I'll just go where Y/N goes." Mom hands me the directory, "I guess I can get Erik this watch he's been talking about from Top Shop." "Alright ladies, We'll meet at the food court at four for lunch!" We all go in opposite directions to our destinations.

"You know, there's a pharmacy in here too?" Daisa says as she's looking through each display window we pass. "Oh, really?" She nods, "There's no time like Christmas Eve to know, Y/N." I sigh and throw my arms up, "You're right. Let's get this watch first." We finally reach TopShop and the store is almost packed wall to wall. We pry through the crowd to the accessory section where I find his Rosefield black and gold watch with a black snake skin-like material band. N'jadaka loves black and gold. I love the way it looks on him. He looks so regal, as he should, since he's Prince of Wakanda and all. Daisa and I waited in the checkout line for almost an hour, but I got the watch, She asked them for a large gift bag, I was about to object before she put her hand up, "I got this. Don't worry about it." "Excuse me!" I stop a girl who looked like she was a local, "I'm sorry, I'm visiting from out of town, do you know where the Pharmacy is?" She nods and says, "Go down this way, down the stairs, make a right, It'll be past the Victoria's Secret." "Thank you so much. Happy Holidays!" She returns the sentiment as Daisa and I walk past her to our new destination.

Daisa and I come to the conclusion to buy three ClearBlue tests since they were the easiest results to read. It was fifteen minutes until four so we buy the tests and make a beeline for the food court. We pass the Starbucks where we find Joyce at the front of the line, she grabs her caramel macchiato, "Do y'all know there's a different word for sneakers here? The barista kept saying, 'Nice runners' I'm like, 'I'm not running nowhere!'" Daisa and I look at each other and bust out in laughter. Mom finds all of us with mad bags in her hands, "What are we eating?"

-- We finally get home around six, the boys are yelling in the living room, we all look at each other and say in unison, "They're drunk!" I hid Erik's present in our room and put the pregnancy tests in our bathroom drawer. I hadn't taken them yet, I was waiting on my mom and Daisa, but her words rang in my head 'no time like Christmas Eve to find out..' I grab one test from the drawer and urinate on the stick. I place the top back on it and put it back in the drawer. I go back down in the living room where my family sat around the TV watching football. My fiancee watching with his lips tucked, dimples poking out, and an egg nog sitting in between his legs. His eyes meet mine and he sets his cup aside, patting in the space for me to sit. I lay against him as everyone else is heckling. His lips connect to my scalp, "I'm tired babe, I think I'm gonna go down early." He rubs my arm, "Okay baby, I'll be up in a while." I nod then get up and look in Daisa's direction, she winks at me tells Jordan she has to use the bathroom and we both go upstairs.

We get to the second floor, "I took one." "What did it say?" I shrug. "I took it and put it in the drawer." My mom nudges us, "Well, go find out!" The few steps to our bedroom feels like a thousand, I peer down to my hands, they're shaking and sweating. Daisa holds my left hand, my mom holds my right, "No matter what the test says, You'll be alright. You're loved, not just by Erik, but by all of us. You're good." My mom flips the light switch in the bathroom. I open the drawer with the used test in it, I grab it and squint my eyes at the results

Pregnant ☺(7-8)

I drop the test, as it hit the tile my mom picks it up and smiles, "I'm never wrong."

Christmas Day       

Babe.. Babe..Y/N. Wake up! My eyes flutter at N'jadaka's voice, "Hm?" "Merry Christmas, baby." He holds out a box. I rub my eyes and sit up, "What is it?" His lips collide with mine, "Open it." I claw at the top part of the box, "What is it?" He helps me, it's his father's chain. "I thought, I'd give the person that means the most to me, the thing that means the most to me." He pulls out the chain and places it around my neck, "The ring, is made of vibranium. It's totally impenetrable." I pull him to me, "I love you. I love you so much." He kisses my forehead, "I love you too, Y/N." "Y/N! Erik! Time to open Gifts!" My mom calls us from downstairs.

We watch as SJ opens up his gifts from all of us, He got all of the clothes, toys, and games his little heart desired. As he was distracted by his new Audi toy car, the adults opened their gifts. Stephan got Joyce and upgrade to her engagement ring. Joyce got him season tickets to the New York Giants games. They only agreed to give each other one gift since they splurged on SJ. Mom got dad private chef lessons from the sous chef of Gordon Ramsey's restaurant, a few sweaters and ties, and a trip to Dubai for next Christmas. My dad got mom two new charms for her Pandora bracelet, an iPhone XS and a Caribbean cruise for the end of summer. Jordan and Daisa agreed to open their gifts when they got back home, they figured traveling with the gifts would be a hassle at customs. 

Daisa waddles out of the living room when Erik hands the rest of us black and purple envelopes. I open mine and it reads:

"You are invited to the union of N'jadaka "Erik" Stevens-Udaku and Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N in matrimony at the Royal Palace of Wakanda on the eighth of June in the year of Two Thousand and Nineteen... Erik.." 

"Baby. I know you said we would plan a wedding, I've been planning it for months. T'Challa and Shuri helped, I got your parents blessing last summer over the phone." "So that's why you welcomed him with open arms?" My parents held each other on the arm of the couch, "Mhm." "Now, all I need is you, your dress, and your answer. Will you marry me, in Wakanda this summer?" 

Daisa waddles back in the living room with the large TopShop bag and a box. "Open your gifts." He stares up at me, puzzled. "What's your answer?" "My answer is, open your gifts." He opened the box first, it had his watch in it, which had a note at the bottom. As long as time exists, you'll have me. Love, Y/N. Erik looks at me as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag, he sees another note, "you'll also have me.." He digs through more tissue paper to find all three tests at the bottom of the bag along with a onesie that says, "Arriving August 2019" Erik stands up with his mouth agape, "You're pregnant?" I nod, "I am. So we may have to reset a date after August." He pulls my arm until I crash into him. I look up into his tear filled eyes, I've only seen him cry like this the first time he told me he loved me. I wipe his tears away and kiss him over and over again until his lips break out into the largest grin, "Y/N, I love you." "I love you more, N'jadaka." Everyone crowded around us in cheers as my mom admits again, "I'm never wrong."

--