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#i'll check this and my ask box in the morning. i'll be busy most of tomorrow but i will think about it while im on the road.
bulletsxlattes · 3 months
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I've had some jaytim on the mind lately, but nothing concrete comes to mind. I wouldn't mind taking some requests and seeing what i can get done in the next few days. So please feel free to get in my asks. :) I can't promise i'll do everything, but i'll see what i can do. If I dont do yours, i'll save the ask cause maybe it might inspire me later.
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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months
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Samuel Seo x Reader: Corporate
G/N. Soft. Nice. Lil snapshots. Ahhhhh
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Scathing, unwarranted remarks are on the tip of his tongue.
He opens his mouth, ready to disparage, when you beat him to the punch.
"No."
A single word, single syllable that catches him on the backfoot.
It's not the first time you denied him, but the first time you have done so so openly and publicly.
Samuel's brows knit, displeasure and annoyance painted on his face. "No?"
You've caught the look in his eyes, preempted him and no.
"No." You repeat yourself, "We are not doing this today. Eugene, please continue."
The Workers’ Presidents and Senior Team glances between the two of you. Samuel's mouth pulled into a thin line, your posture upright and eyes challenging.
Samuel doesn't say anything else.
Eugene clears his throat and continues.
.
.
You check your watch. An anniversary gift. Exclusive from the Nautilus collection. Not quite your taste though not offensive enough to tuck into a drawer somewhere.
The hour hand has crept solidly into what is considered late evening. You didn't have plans but you can’t see why this couldn't wait until the following Monday.
"Thanks everyone, let's call it a night."
Samuel turns sharply towards you, "I am not finished-"
"This meeting is." You cut him off and give everyone a polite smile, clearly signalling ‘we are done’ before focusing your attention back on him. "Samuel, can I have a word in your office?"
"I know you can probably pull me up to HR for this," You hold a business card between your middle and index finger, "Good luck with that if you do. But here."
You tuck it into his suit pocket and give it a pat for good measure as his eyes widen in surprise.
"This is my therapist. She's helped me a lot." Samuel opens his mouth to argue and you cut him off without pause, "You're spiralling tonight and it's not a good look."
You shrug on your coat. "I usually leave you be but I'm concerned."
And there it is. A little admission of your feelings. Words chosen to fit with the corporate bullshit though you don't hide the worry in your eyes.
"I'll see you Monday."
Samuel stays quiet as you leave. Stays quiet as he sits behind his desk. Eyes on the screen though nothing is sinking in. Brain calming down as the hours stretch into the early morning.
He removes the card from his pocket. Studies the lettering. Black font on white, the long sequence of acronyms and qualifications that follow the name.
It smells like you.
.
.
"That meeting went well," Samuel comments, "Their investment is secured."
He navigates Seoul traffic, opting for his own car instead of a Workers executive ride and chauffeur. Driving carefully and slowly. Maybe a touch too slowly.
Debriefs, he calls them. But within the confines of this metal box, it's a small break during both of your hectic schedules. So he buys extra minutes, extra seconds however he can.
"Yeah," You peer out the window, a small smile gracing your lips, "We make a good team."
Samuel considers this for a moment.
He agrees.
.
.
Samuel flicks the lighter. A burst of warmth and orange ignites your cigarette, the spike of nicotine hits your lungs.
Ironic it feels like the first time you’re able to breathe today.
"Hard day?" He asks, taking a drag on his own. 
You never make an appearance on this balcony, the little designated 10ft by 12ft area for toxic fumes with a stunning view, unless you need to.
You don't respond and it's all the answer Samuel needs.
Most of the employees cut their smoke break short as soon as they clocked the two C-suites making their way here. A few hanger-ons, hoping for a chance of schmoozing and networking, scuppered away after being on the receiving end of Samuel's glare.
Samuel exhales. Watches the wisps dissipate. "Some days I hate all this."
Your breath joins his. Mingling together before vanishing into nothing. "Me too."
A coffee is placed on your desk.
"Americano, no milk, no sugar. Triple shot."
"Oh!" You're caught completely off guard. Initially pissed off at his disruption, your eyes now soften at Samuel's gesture. It’s just how you like it.
"And here." He accompanies the coffee with a small paper bag, a logo of your favourite bakery on the front.
"Thank you."
He gives you a small nod and leaves.
Hours later, buried in corporate bullshit, coffee long drained and energy sapped, you can still taste the sugar on your tongue.
.
.
"Samuel, this evening-"
"Sorry sir, I have plans I can't miss."
"Not even for this?"
"No. My apologies."
Eugene purses his lips, considering how far to push this. He had stressed the importance of this evening multiple times but Samuel Seo apparently has other commitments.
"Samuel-"
"Eugene. Any other night but not tonight."
Eugene recognises the defiance, the pointed use of his name instead of 'sir', the mood darkening behind the polite close eyed smile. And decides to let this go. This once.
"Enjoy your night."
"Thank you, sir."
Samuel doesn't spend his night courting more investors. Europe. Some equally shady operation in Switzerland pivotal for Worker's global expansion.
Would have earned him Eugene's favour and appreciation if he pulled it off. Yet-
You open the velvet box.
It's much more your taste this time. Leather strap, no diamonds, understated. The branding is still shown on the watch face but it's subtle, lowkey.
Samuel presses himself against your back, curling around in a protective embrace and leaving a trail of kisses across your shoulder.
Yet-
For you, the world can wait.
"Happy anniversary, Y/N."
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rottenpumpkin13 · 8 months
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Speaking of Lucrecia, Sephiroth is presented with a posthumous gift from his (supposedly deceased) mother. Since this has always been a sore subject with him and the gang of idiots, what sorts of sad or happy hijinks ensue?
• Sephiroth has a package delivered to his office one morning. Far too busy for unsolicited gifts, he asks the delivery person to take it back. The person insists he keep it, as it was part of the delivery instructions.
• After letting it sit in the corner of his office for most of the morning, Sephiroth caves and grabs the small box, brings it up to his desk and checks the shipping label.
• How curious. The package is clearly for him, with the correct address and name. But the return address....
• From Lucrecia Crescent had an added note under it done in blue ink: To Sephiroth, my baby.
• His hands grow numb from gripping the box so hard. He rips the tag off, then promptly makes for the R&D floor.
• "Who is is Lucrecia Crescent?" he demands of Hojo as soon as he sees him.
• The scientist doesn't look up from his work, and barely acknowledges Sephiroth's question with a cryptic smirk. He can sense the trembling, panicked undertone in Sephiroth's voice.
• "And where did you hear such a name?"
• Sephiroth doesn't have the patience for this. Not today. "Who is she?" He pushes, finally prompting Hojo to face him.
• The scientist lacks the urgency Sephiroth demands of him, and surveys his creation with a judgemental look he hides behind his dark glasses.
• "If you must know, boy, Lucrecia Crescent was a coward, a vessel for the development of my work and nothing more."
• "She was my mother, wasn't she?" Sephiroth presses.
• Hojo's response is laughter. His wheezy cackles fill the tense air, and last as long as Sephiroth can take them. He can't stand the sound mocking him, and finds the professor's crass response an answer enough. He leaves.
• Genesis and Angeal find him two hours later at a secluded area on the building's rooftop.
• "Running away like a rebellious teenager now, are we?" Genesis scoffs as soon as they see him.
• Angeal, on the other hand, is far more concerned with the box sitting beside Sephiroth and the small tab in his friend's trembling fingers.
• "We've been looking for you," he says. "Why did you run off? Is everything okay?"
• Sephiroth shakes his head, and takes the box in his hand as Angeal and Genesis sit on either side of him. Silently, he hands Angeal the tag and Genesis the box.
• Genesis analyzes the box, then looks to Angeal for a clue.
• "From Lucrecia Crescent," Angeal reads. "To Sephiroth.....My baby?"
• Sephiroth looks down, avoiding what he assumes to be judgemental eyes pinning him in place.
• "Lucrecia..." Genesis repeats breathlessly. "Is she your—" He looks at Angeal for help. "—Is this–is she...Is she your mother?"
• Sephiroth nods. "I think so. And if she is, what you're holding is what I assume to be a posthumous gift."
• Angeal nods. "She organized it before her death?"
• Genesis looks down at the box. "What's inside it?"
• Sephiroth squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. "I don't know. I don't know. I can't bring myself to open it."
• "I'll open it for you!" Genesis starts to rip the packing tape, but is reprimanded by Angeal before he can.
• "Gen!" he snaps "Don't even think about it!" Then he turns back to Sephiroth with a gentler tone. "Seph, you don't have to open it right now if you don't want to. These things take time to process. You need to go at your own pace."
• Sephiroth doesn't respond, and Angeal doesn't dare overstep.
• After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Genesis shrugs. "And whenever you do decide to open it, we'll be there with you."
• Sephiroth looks up at him, and Genesis can't help but gently brush a stray hand of hair away from his face. "For whatever you need," the redhead assures.
• Sephiroth nods, then looks back down at the box.
• A few more minutes pass, then Sephiroth takes it in his trembling hands.
• "We'll do it on three, alright?" Angeal says.
• Sephiroth and Genesis nod.
• "One, two..."
• Sephiroth tears the tape away and rips open the box flaps. A note is the first thing he sees, quickly reaching in and pulling it out.
Sephiroth, my darling baby boy and brightest star in the whole sky,
May your life be filled with more light than I could have ever given you, my love, and may the future be kind to you. I love you more than words can say, my son, my star, my baby. Forgive me.
Be good.
- Mother
• They sit in silence huddled over the letter. When Sephiroth finally finishes his nth read through, he peers inside the box.
• Staring back at him is a teddy bear.
• That was the first and only time in Sephiroth's life that he ever broke down crying.
• Angeal and Genesis are there with him, pulling him close, rubbing circles on his back. Angeal tells him it's okay to cry, whispers sweet words and gently takes the box away from him. Genesis ties his hair back and dries his tears.
• That night, Sephiroth doesn't let go from the stuffed toy for even a second. He's an unconsolable mess. Angeal has him stay in his apartment to keep an eye on him, and Genesis stays over too.
• They finally get him to eat a little bit of dinner, then get him to bed. Sephiroth falls asleep clutching the toy so hard his knuckles stay in a permanent blanched state.
• Angeal and Genesis sit back afterwards.
• "We could get him to try therapy," Angeal suggests.
• "We could also torture Hojo for more information on Ms. Crescent," Genesis shoots back.
• In the end, they both look at each other and crack small smiles.
• "This won't be easy, but at least we're starting somewhere," Angeal says.
• Genesis reaches over and fixes the blanket around Sephiroth. "At least now he knows who his real mother is."
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bouncybongfairy · 10 months
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Bodega Dreams
Miles Morales x Fem Reader
Summary: You and Miles Morales from Earth 42 are in a serious relationship. You have a feeling that Miles may keep something from you. Your friends reassure you that you're over thinking. Although reserved and quiet, Miles isn't capable of anything criminal. You conclude that you're projecting your anxiety onto the relationship because of the book you're reading in class: Bodega Dreams. The truth will come out, whether it being thoughtfully or forcefully is soon to be revealed.
Work Count: 3k+
<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3
Part 2 Is Now Posted! <3
It was a typical morning. You woke up and sat up in bed and pulled your phone off the charger and checked your emails. Other than junk mail and a few reminder emails from canvas, there wasn't much to look at. You pulled your hair into a bun before leaning over the bed to give Miles a few pecks on the cheek. Like always, he didn't even flinch. As you kissed him, you could taste the metallic on your lips. Pulling back gently, you saw a healing gash above his eyebrow and a hint of a green bruise under his eye. Your brow furrowed and a couple of questions popped into your mind that you quickly pushed to the side. Even if you were curious about where and when that happened, it wasn't like you were going to wake him up out of dead sleep to ask him. Not to mention how busy your day was going to be. 
You had an English final, then had to go to work directly from school; you work at the daycare of a Hot Yoga studio. Most of the moms were young and entitled. They considered the crumpled-up 20s at the bottom of their purses to be pocket change. You couldn't complain about them too much though because those 20s became your tips more often than not. You grabbed the dirty laundry around their room and walked it over to the washer; after starting a loud, you make your way into the kitchen to start breakfast. You grabbed the carton of eggs from the fridge and started cracking them into a glass bowl. Hearing bare feet sliding against the wood floors, you greet the only person it could have been.
"Good morning, babe, hungry?" you asked while stirring the scrambled eggs. 
"Why are you up so early?" he mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping his long arms around your waist. 
"Really busy day, school and work right after." you said, turning the burner off. He groaned playfully at the thought of you being gone all day. You set the pan on the back burner and turned around to face him. For a second you thought about asking him about the wound above his eye. You ignored this and grabbed his braids, pulling them to sit on his shoulders. 
"Are you coming to school with me today?" you asked looking up at him, knowing there was a considerable chance that the answer would be no. 
"My teachers are fine with it as long as I turn my work in on time. As long as I maintain my grades, I feel like perfect attendance is a nonfactor." he said, tucking a curl behind your ear. 
"I know, I'm not saying you need to be going more because you're not doing well; not at all, you have a better grade in history than me right now," you laughed before continuing, "Now that I work and everything with school.. I don't know; there are sometimes when I'm eating lunch I just wish we could spend that time together. Especially when I get home at 10 pm and you're gone for work." you said taking a cooled-down piece of egg and walking over to your hamster enclosure. 
"Alright I get it, I'll come with you today but I have to leave after lunch. I told Uncle Aaron I would go down to the warehouse and help him fix the computer system," he said, walking over to you and pulling you into a reassuring hug. You rubbed your hands down his and noticed more bruising on his forearms. 
"What are these from?" you asked, rubbing your index finger over them. 
"Carrying heavy loads of boxes from the shipment trucks into the warehouse." he said kissing the top of your head before going back into the kitchen. After you gave Peaches a bit of egg you walked over to the table where Miles had made a plate for you. 
"Have you done the reading for Bodega Dreams? My English final today is going to be a question-and-response essay. It isn't open book but we can bring a sheet of notes so I'm pretty sure I'm gonna ace it." You said this made Miles laugh. 
"You read that book cover to cover, even if you didn't have notes I think you'd still nail it." he said, starting to eat his eggs. You smile and pour yourself a cup of coffee. 
School went by fast and not in a good way where the day feels easy. More like so many assignments and tests that you feel like your eyes could fall out of your head. Luckily for you, the only class you had left was English. You studied for so long that you weren't really nervous anymore. When you walked in, the big red marker on the whiteboard was the first thing you noticed. It read: Was Willie Bodega morally wrong for selling drugs even though he was using the money to support his community? You took your seat and pulled out your laptop and waited for further instructions. 
Miles didn't end up going to school. Uncle Aaron called him in early because the computer systems went from slow to usable. Even though you were disappointed you understood, he didn't want to lose business. He promised to be home for dinner though, which was rare these days. 
"Alright, good morning. I know I've been preparing you guys for a question-and-response essay. However, today is the last day before Thanksgiving break and I want to grade all your papers over the weekend about the same way you want to write a 6 paragraph essay; not at all. So we will be having a class discussion." The class all started the chatter in excitement, moving around to sit next to their friends. You were a little disappointed that you studied and prepared for an essay but was happy that you didn't have to stress anymore. You pulled out a pen and paper and prepared for the discussion.
"So.. question is on the board. Was Willie Bodega morally wrong for selling drugs even though he was using the money to support his community?" she read aloud, waiting for a student to raise their hand. 
"Well yeah, even if he was using the money to support people and the community it is still wrong to sell to people in the community. What if he sold to the people who are recovering, addicts who moved to the neighborhood to escape drugs? What about the young men of his community? Does he put a risk to disburse those drugs? Or the children of the people who buy from him?" The entire class whipped their heads around to see who was speaking. Just as fast as they looked, they looked away as someone contradicted that statement, 
"I don't know about that, what about the families who aren't buying drugs? Families that could have just immigrated there are trying to get their footing; Bodega helps them with everything from shoes to housing and those people aren't doing any drugs. They're just trying to make an honest living. Bodega went to school, and legally owns a lot of the community AND doesn't jack up the rent to keep low-income families out of the area." 
"Yeah, Bodega tried to go to city hall and do it the right way. They ignored and mocked him, he has every right to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's hurting anyone other than the people buying the drugs. I know two wrongs don't make a right but if those people want drugs they go seek them out, even if it's not from Bodega." 
"I think it's weird that nobody is asking if the government is morally wrong. Willie tried to do it the right way, by filling out the proper paperwork and trying to arrange meetings to help the people of the community; they snubbed him and his pleads. That was city hall's way of saying: help yourself because we have better things to do. So.. that's what he did. He used his resources and not only helped himself but also helped his community. Yes, selling drugs is illegal, we all know that so we try to condemn Willie for breaking such a regulated law. But if he was some famous rapper you all would be like: 'he did what he needed to do to pull his family out of poverty' or 'Oh my god how inspiring that he went from selling drugs to records' I can guarantee you so many of the lawmakers that ignored him have done plenty of dirt to get where they are today. So let's not come down so hard on Willie for something we praised celebrities for doing on the daily." You said looking directly at the girl who five minutes before said 'Poverty isn't an excuse to sell drugs'. You hoped that your stare would burn her already fried hair off. 
"Very well said Y|N, very mindful to be asking the same questions about the people who forced Bodega's hand on alternative ways of helping his community. I think we've just about-" Mrs.Lawrence was interrupted by the bell ringing, 
"We'll finish this conversation on Monday, everyone has a good weekend, and be kind!" She said, dismissing the class. You were extremely relieved that this was the final class of the day.
As you walked to the subway from school, you were happy that the day was almost over. Now all you had to worry about was work and of course Miles. You could tell that something was off with him. He was never aggressive with you but you could notice when there was something different in their routine. Ever since Miles' dad died, he started working full time with Uncle Aaron, he changed. You just summed it up to the stress of being the breadwinner of the family. You did work and bought groceries or household necessities like toilet paper, cleaning supplies etc. Miles however was paying most of the rent. He didn't need to but you think it helps him mourn the loss of his father. As if trying to live up to his father and the man he was is replacing some of the dull sadness with him being gone. 
You were grateful that your relationship had only grown stronger since his dad passed. Most relationships you've seen where one spouse is dealing with a loss became combative and bitter. It was scary for you to see him break down the way he did but it was so rewarding to be the one who built him back up. Even though you've only been dating for three and a half years, it felt like you lived a lifetime together. You felt so comfortable and protected with him, it almost scared you how much you relied on him as a sense of security. It scared you thinking about how you felt without him, and maybe that was because they were trauma bonded.
When Miles and you first met it was the beginning of 7th grade. You were still living with your father who was an alcoholic. He drank to suppress the memories of your late mother. This almost made you understand his alcoholism. When you thought of Miles passing, all you could think about was how well alcohol must drown the pain out. Even if it was for a second or two. Miles lived next door, you always walked to the bus stop together. He would give you a sympathetic look when your dad would scream at you from the door. It wasn't until the night your father got arrested that things really changed. 
Your father was just going room to room raging. Incoherent yelling that was so slurred you couldn't tell if he was even mentally there. Two empty Everclear bottles sat on the coffee table across from the couch. He was so intoxicated he thought you were your mother. Things were really starting to escalate, pushing you into the wall or pressing his body so that you were trapped between him and the wall. He grabbed the empty bottle and smashed it against the wall above you. A piece of shard flies at your cheek and cuts you. That was when Miles' dad busted in. He didn't arrest him immediately, he just escorted you out safely and helped you file a police report. You'd been living with Miles and his family ever since.
After you stopped torturing yourself with the memories and anxiety about Miles, you realized you were just one stop away from your work. You looked around to make sure you didn't leave anything on the seats around you before exiting and walking the short 10 minutes to the studio. Once you arrived you immediately went back to the daycare. Before you could even set your stuff down, the morning shift handed you an infant before updating you on the day. Apparently it was quite the day, because the daycare was a mess. Toys everywhere, kids running every which way, snacks on the ground ect. You took a big sigh and started picking up toys and hushing children, gathering them to watch a movie. An hour later your other coworker Miley came in and sat down next to you. 
"You okay girl?" Miley asked, taking the baby from your arms. 
"Yeah I'm just tired, I've been feeling a lot of stress lately," you said.
"I feel you, Michael and I have been bickering lately too." she said referring to her boyfriend. 
"It's not that we're arguing more or anything, I just have a feeling that there is something going on that he isn't telling me," you said. 
"Like he's cheating?" Miley whispered.
"No, I don't think it's romantic or someone else. It's more like there is something that is weighing on his mind. He's been acting the way he normally does right before he rants to me about something bothering him," you paused and wiped a few tears out of your eyes, "I don't know, I'm just worried about him and it's causing me turmoil I guess. I feel like I can't say anything because there really is no specific reason as to why I'm worried. It frustrates me because it's just a gut feeling so I don't want him to think I'm crazy or insecure. Sorry I don't know why i'm crying," you said trying to wipe away your tears without messing up your makeup. 
"Are you okay?" One of the little girls came up to you, setting her little hand on your knee. 
"Yes honey, I'm okay. That was very kind of you to ask," you said laughing after sending her off.
"I'm not trying to minimize your suspicions or feelings but, do you think you might be pregnant? Maybe that's why you're having so much anxiety about Miles?" She asked, this made you truly speechless for a minute. You always had irregular periods so it wasn't abnormal to miss your cycle.
"I hope not," you said standing up and picking up empty paper cups that they used to give the kids juice. 
"Would it be so bad? You're about to graduate highschool and you want to become an elementary school teacher. Miles is making good money," Miley said helping you clean up the tables. 
"Let's just move on. I don't even want to think about any of that," you said finishing up the rest of the shift. 
It was 9:30 and you walked to the store that was across the street picking up some stuff for dinner. Miles' mom was working a double and would be at the hospital overnight. Which meant you were in charge of dinner. You stopped at your local deli and picked up some sandwiches with some other snacks. When walking down the pharmacy aisle the pregnancy test was staring at you like a cheetah catching its prey; like it was shaming you. You picked one up out of curiosity, worse case scenario it comes out positive. Thinking about that was making you feel nauseous, such a stressful situation. It wasn't that you didn't want to be a mother but now just wasn't a good time for you or Miles. You also felt slightly insecure about your pregnancy scare. In the book Bodega Dreams Chino's girlfriend Blanca was also with child. It made you feel like you were projecting this book on to your relationship with Miles. 
After taking an Uber home from the deli, you started digging through your purse to find your keys. Once you finally found them and let yourself inside, you began to put away some of the groceries. Your phone dinged from your purse, you drugged herself to the couch to check the notification. It was a message from Miles that read: on a late delivery, an hour or two late tops. After reading the message you couldn't help but break down a few tears running down your cheeks. You weren't mad or anything, it wasn't like he could control if he needed to work over time. You just were looking forward to seeing him after such a long and hectic day. You just needed that reassurance. You got over it quickly and texted him back that you loved him and not to sorry. 
To take your mind off things you hopped in the shower. The hot water did help relax you, like all the muscles in your body loosened all at once. You sat in the sweltering steam until you felt at risk for passing out. You walked back to the room and laid on the bed in your towel for a while. It wasn't until you laid down that your exhaustion became apparent. You eventually sat up to avoid falling asleep before getting a couple more things done. You didn't want to go to bed with wet hair and you needed to eat, the only thing you ate all day was breakfast. You changed into some sweat pants and a tank top and began blow drying your hair. Sitting up and doing something was taking your mind away from how tired you were. Once you are done, you go to Peaches' enclosure to see if he is awake. You gently move some bedding around until you see the Syrian hamster pop his head out.
You laugh and grab him, taking him back to the bedroom. While you are in the living room you grab your purse. After getting back on to your bed, you rummage through your bag and pull out the pregnancy test. You stared at it for a while, like it was a spider that you were figuring out how to kill. Somehow the anxiety of not knowing was more comforting than having the actual answer. You grab the plastic hamster ball, placing Peaches inside and letting him roam around the room. You walk into the bathroom and rip open the box, unpackaging the test. You quickly follow the directions before exiting the bathroom. 
Even if it was embarrassing you really did hope that this was just a pregnancy scare. That you were so stressed and busy that you were projecting your life onto the book you've been analyzing, studying and breathing for the past 3 months. You were on the bed, taking a video of Peaches rolling around the room. You heard a bang so loud it made the bed feel like it was shaking. Your video ended abruptly, you quickly grabbed your hamster who was equally as scared. He tried scurrying away so fast that his nails weren't giving him any traction, giving the illusion that he was running in place. You stand up and open the door without making a sound. You could immediately hear people talking, well more arguing than conversating. You slowly made your way down the hallway, you were worried that whoever was there would be able to hear your heartbeat. It was the only thing you could hear at this point. 
Once you round the corner, you were shocked by what you saw. Miles tied to a punching bag, Uncle Aaron standing there with his arms crossed. At first you thought Aaron was hurting Miles, until you saw.. him. Your Miles, covered head to toe in The Prowlers gear. The only reason you recognized it was from how many news articles and videos you had looked over. You gasped so loudly that it surprised yourself. All three men in the room whipped their heads to face you. Miles' face immediately went from practically snarling to what you considered normal. I shook you to the core, the facial expression he had when he turned around; before he noticed it was you. He starts to walk over to you but your flight instincts kick in and you bolt back to the bedroom. As you ran down the hall, you could hear the metal pieces of his gear dropping to the ground. Once he got to the room, he was only wearing his street clothes. 
"What the actual fuck Miles," you said running your fingers through your hair. 
"I know, I know. I really didn't mean for you to find out this way," he said, approaching you cautiously. 
"Do you really think that I'm more mad about how I found out than the fact that you're the fucking Prowler? What the fuck," you said begining to cry.  
"i'm sorry. I'm sorry that this is hurting you and that I kept it from you. That- I was wrong for that but, I can't apologize for who I am," he said resting his hand on your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. For a second, you wish you could stay in this moment; the feeling of him comforting you after everything that happened today. Once you processed what he said, you left that moment in the past. 
"Oh so this is who you are. You're nothing more than The prowler? You're not Miles anymore?" you asked rhetorically, taking his hand off your face. 
"I know who I am. I'm the type of person who won't apologize for helping the people I love. I help people who are deemed unworthy of support. I won't apologize for that. 
"Are you gonna apologize for the people you're hurting in the process?" you asked as fat tears rolled down your face.
"I'm sorry that I kept this from you. I'm admitting that I was wrong, and I understand that this is alot to take in. I have to handle this though, please just stay in the room and I'll be back in 30 minutes. We can sit down and talk about all this. Please?" he asked, pulling you closer to him. You nodded your head and wiped away your tears. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before exiting the room. 
You sat on the bed, trying to take in everything that was happening. You had just seen what appeared to be a perfect copy of your boyfriend. With everything going on, you truly had to talk yourself out of the possibility that you truly may be delusional and not in the hot girl kinda way. Tears were unstoppable at this point, flowing so fast that the collar of your shirt was completely soaked. The Prowler was responsible for so many manslaughters due to careless fighting. The Prowler was feared by many, and was showcased on the news more than the Kardashians on TMZ. You had even told Miles that you were scared of being caught in the crossfire of chaos caused by this person. What scared you the most was how comfortable Miles had gotten in his lie. What terried you more than that was you had fallen for it so easy. Thinking that a villian that you so deeply feared was the same person who kissed you goodnight made you feel nauseous. You run to the bathroom. 
You vomit into the toilet, the anxiety you were having was becoming unbearable. You sat hanging over the toilet until Peaches started bumping into your leg in his ball. You redirect him and stand up, rinsing your mouth with water. Without thinking you pick up the test you were holding earlier, dropping it and throwing up more when you see the bold + sign staring back at you. 
In memory of the real Peaches; May his cutie patuti soul rest in peace
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octuscle · 10 months
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Being a photographer is awesome! I work around the world with a lot of people - some of them are famous, most of them are not. But it's my mission to let them shine like stars. Well in my past I had the chance to become a model myself but I wasn't enough self-confident to say yes. I chose the place behind the camera and not infront of it. Looking back I sometimes ask myself 'what if...'. It's silly because I'm not unhappy but there is this curiosity. So I'd like to try the Chronivac Programm changing the past and the present. Please activate it
I'd like to try something out there. An Instagram add-in that I made. Post a selfie of yourself. Then with each comment from you, the next younger picture also changes to a portrait of you. And with every new follower you live on the pictures and also in real life already one day longer not the life of the photographer. But the life of a model. And you yourself become one day younger. I'll start with a comment of your selfie. "Dude, great pic! Who will you be in front of the camera for next time?" And at the same moment, your last picture turns into a shot of you on the beach.
It's still pretty early in the morning in Paris. Nevertheless, the first comments and likes come in pretty quickly. I have limited the activity of the add-in to twelve hours at first. No idea what will happen in that time. First of all, you don't notice anything yet. Off to the shower. But when you're done, your bathroom has already changed quite a bit. A veritable armada of creams and lotions is ready and waiting. You take a look in the mirror fogged up by the shower. Everything is normal. For once, you've been modeling yourself for the last three weeks, so you just have to take care of yourself a little more than usual.
While packing your bag for the next shoot, you take a look at your cell phone. Wow, 40 new followers. While you were in the bathroom… Cool thing. Just as cool as the fact that you can leave your photo equipment at home and only need your toilet bag and a change of clothes. You got to keep the racing bike from one of the last shootings. Helmet on, quick selfie posted and then off into the morning rush hour. With the bike you are simply the fastest. And you look the best. And keep yourself fit. In the last three months, you've often had to make do with just one hour at the gym. Your schedule is full. You were a great photographer, but you have yet to prove yourself as a model.
You arrive at the photo studio and because it just looks cooler, you shoulder your racing bike and carry it up to the studio. You are not the only model waiting here. But one of the older ones. You check Instagram. A good day! 400 new followers since breakfast. But there are also really great pictures of you in your profile. Both your selfies. As well as the pictures of your ex-colleagues. For over a year you are rarely behind the camera. But in front of the camera you are appreciated, because you are not only photogenic, but also think like a photographer.
On Instagram, it's now blow by blow. The more comments you get, the faster you get new followers. You look younger and younger and more athletic in the pictures. And your account is overflowing with crisp pictures of you. There is already a first fan account. When the photographer's assistant arrives at noon with a few boxes of sushi, you have an incredible 2,000 new followers. Not bad for a model who is already quite mature. You are now 32 years old. With over five years of experience as a model. You used to study to be a photographer. You still like to take pictures. But professionally you don't want to do that anymore. In your Instagram account, one has to scroll really far into the history to find pictures of you that were not selfies. But even those are richly commented by male and female groupies.
Phew, that was a really exhausting day. But some of the shots turned out really cool. And there was good money. Of course, you've been in the business for over ten years now. You had your first model jobs when you were not yet 16 years old. But now you are a real brand. Today you got an incredible 4,000 new followers. In one day. On a day when you could hardly post anything yourself. You started the day with a selfie on your road bike.
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You ended the day with a selfie in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your hotel room. "It was a great day, tomorrow we'll continue bright and early. Good night to all of you". Ten likes before you even put your phone down.
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heartfullofleeches · 2 years
Text
Jack in the box (Old)
Male Yandere x G.N Reader
An: was going through my email and found this old fic from my first blog [naga-nerd] I haven't reread it, but I remember the general idea and its one I may rewrite in the future. Hope you enjoy if it's as descent as I remember.
"H-hey Y/n.. Wanna use it?" You turn to look at the person that use walked up to you, small box in his shaking hands. He holds it out a little more, looking away embarrassed as negative thoughts fill his mind. This was a stupid idea. There's no way you'd actually touch it.
"Uh sure I'll try it." His head snaps back to you as you grab the handle and begin turning it. The soft melody of Pop goes the Weasel comes from the Jack in the box, cutting off at times due to the old age of it. You jump as a doll pops out of the box, swinging back and forth on its spring."I didn't hear the end so that startled me. That clown is pretty strange. I mean I'm not judging it but aren't those dolls usually colorful and more alive?"
"Colorful?" He takes his eyes off of you and look down at the box, immediately seeing what you're talking about. The now still doll's clothing resembled those of a happy clown but they were completely grey. The eyes were shut and for a mouth there was a straight black line. The doll was neutral meaning your feelings for him were neutral. Meaning you felt nothing for him at all. Good nor bad. He turns the box over in his hands multiple times, checking the clown doll for any sign of color. Any sign of emotion.
"I hope your jack in the box is ok. I have to go now. Bye." You smile nervously at him as you walk away. Normally your smile would make his day a hundred times better, but at that moment he felt empty inside. He had known you for years and yet you felt as if he was just some person you'd pass by while taking a walk. It wasn't fair. You were on his mind every second of the day but he was the last person you'd probably ever think about. He wanted to smash the box in his hands to pieces and scream to the heavens as he did so. Asking whoever listened why you didn't love him. Why you didn't need him like he needed you every second of the day. But like most feelings he had, he just bottle the anger up.
Frustrated tears fell from John's eyes and landed on the doll, soaking its cloth face. Did he not try hard enough? Maybe he didn't get rid of everyone bothering you and you were just too busy with them. He followed you around and made a long list of those people so that couldn't be true unless you went somewhere without him, which wasn't likely. John grabs the small doll's hand and smiles. He shouldn't be so upset. You just didn't feel anything for him now, he'd change that for sure. He look in the direction you had walked in but you were long gone. That didn't matter though. He knew exactly where to find you.
You wake up in a dark room with a slight headache, laying with your back against something hard. You try to put your hand up to your throbbing head but the thick ropes keeping you tied up stops you. A light switches on and the wooden stairs creak as someone steps into the room.
"I'm sorry that I have put you down here Y/n. Our room isn't quite set up yet and I don't want you to see it." The person from earlier sets a familiar box next to you as he crouched down in front if you.
"Morning sweetheart. Well it's still night time but you've been out so long it feels like a new day." John leans in towards you and you pull away. "Uh who are you exactly?"
You didn't know who he was at all. When he asked you to use the jack in the box earlier you believed it to be a prank so you did it for laughs. You thought it was strange he knew your name but at the time you thought he may have been an old friend.
In all the years that he knew you and everything about you, you never know him at all or realize he was stalking you. You may have said hello a couple times but that's all. His face would just disappear in to the crowd of the many you passed on a normal day. John was a complete stranger to you while you meant everything to him.
"Who am I? Honey you're the love of my life and I'm yours er, I will be soon. I'm sorry to keep you here like this but I have to be sure nobody will try to steal that wonderful heart of yours."
John picks up the Jack in the box and holds it to his chest, voice growing dangerously quiet. The doll from before was still hanging out the box and he petted its head softly "It really hurt me when I found out I was nothing to you Y/n..."
"Don't worry though. I'm not upset about it anymore. I just have to get you to fall for me and that shouldn't be hard. I know pretty much everything about you so I'm sure I can win your heart in no time." He laughs and begins to hum the tone that comes from the box in his hands as he plays with the doll. He suddenly slaps the lid shut, forcing the clown back into its cage.
"Hey Y/n? Do you wanna see how I feel about you? I can't untie you so you can hold my toy but I'm sure my little friend will come out matching my emotions anyway." John turns the handle as you sit there frozen in silence, the dolls appearance changing more and more in the box as the music continues it play.
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igot-sarang-ggg · 1 year
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Hey there :) please could I request a one shot of Bruno bucciarati saving the reader from an enemy mafioso or her family and inducting her into his gang (before the events of golden wind) and what would the other guys reactions to her be. Could there be hints of romance please 💙💙💙
Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it took me so long post. Hope you enjoy the story
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The Bakers Daughter (Bruno Bucciarati x Reader)
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Masterlist
Small Summary: You work as a baker at a company owned by your father. when your father doesn't pay what he owes the boss hes given some time to round enough money to pay but instead he runs away and leaves you to clean up his mess
Small mentions: SPOILERS, near-death f!reader, blood, getting tortured, mention of la squadra spell check is out the window..
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I never thought today would be my last day on this earth. Life's so cruel...
My eyes began to blur as I took my last breath. An image of Bucciarati came to mind, why am I thinking of him at a time like this? It seemed like he was swimming towards me, "Bru-no." How did this have to happen to me?
It was a day like any other, opening the bakery, helping customers, and what I loved the most baking! The bell on the door rang, "Welcome what can I get for you today?" I greeted a young man that walked in, he had a bowl cut for his hairstyle but it suited him nicely. He's been coming here every Saturday for the past few months. "Good morning Y/n, I'll have the usual."
"Ah yes, we'll have that out for you in a bit. Would you like anything else, sir?" I started to write down his total, "What would you recommend?" I pointed to the display of cookies and cakes, "We do have other sweet options like Frutta Martorana, Zeppole, and many others to name a few." he scanned the deserts in front of him. "Do you have strawberry shortcake?"
"Yes, we do, how many slices would you like on the cake?" I walked over to the dessert display and took out the cake he requested. "Twelve slices if that's alright." I smiled at him, "Sure thing." After cutting the cake I around up his total, "Okay that will be thirty dollars with seventy-three cents." He handed me two bills, "You can keep the change."
"Okay, thank you. Your sweets will be out in a few minutes mister..." I wanted to say his name but forgot we never exchanged our names, he knew my name cause I wore a name tag. "Bruno Bucciarati." I've heard that name before, most of the people in town talk about a guy named Bruno and how he always tries to help people in any way he can even though he's a Mafioso. "If you don't mind me asking what brings you to this part of town?"
"I had some business to attend to. Plus you guys do make some delicious desserts. I enjoy supporting companies such as yours."
"I see. Well, thank you for liking our deserts." As I packed up the deserts Bruno requested, the bell rang again, "Hi welcome what can I get..." When I looked up there were these two men, they'd been coming here for the past few months to speak with my father. They gave me a look, and I already knew what it meant. "He's in the back." The silver hair man walked in first and then the blonde guy followed. I continued packing the deserts and handed them to Bruno. "Here you go."
"Thank you. By safe Y/n... I'll come to visit the shop in a few days. My friends really enjoy your deserts." He took the box of deserts and left. We hadn't been getting a lot of business lately ever since those men started showing up. "This is a warning you better have it all by Thursday or else we're coming for you." They both left the bakery. I went to check up on my father he was on the ground crying. I knew that he was running his business with the Mafia but now it seems he's gotten himself into some serious issues. That's why mom left him when I was younger he's gotten into some sort of debt and now he has to pay the conscious.
Thursday came but those men didn't show, instead, Bucciarati came to the bakery. "Bucciarati it's nice to see you again. Do you want the usual?" I started to pull out some cookies. "Yes, thank you. How's business going?" He handed me the money, "Quite slow. Not a lot of people have been coming here lately." I handed him his change "I see."
"So what made you stop by, you usually come in on Saturdays." I started preparing the box and filling them with his order, "I like visiting you... Plus my friends and I wanted some sweets." He wanted to visit me? "Well, I'm glad you're here to visit and that you and your friends enjoy our deserts." I handed him the box he reached out for it and our hands touched slightly. "I'll come by another day. Hopefully, my friends can come with me so you can meet them." He smiled at me and then left.
 A few days passed and those men showed up again, this time they had five other men with them. "Hey beautiful, where's your father? We have some business to handle with him." The man with the red leather coat spoke. That morning my father had left with a suitcase and said he would be back in a few days. "I'm sorry boys but he's not here. He went out early this morning." I took out some fresh baked goods handing them to the group, "Would you like some sweets or would you like to order something?" The man with blue hair and red glasses slapped the tray of sweets from my hand, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt.
"What do you take us for some idiots? Did you seriously just offer us some sweets? Your father owes us money and if he isn't going to pay us then we-" The blonde hair man pushed him away from me and covered the man's mouth, "You'll have to excuse him, he's a bit... Crazy and hot-headed." He faced the group of men with him. "Y/n here works for her father but doesn't know about him working for us."
"I see... She'll be perfect for baby face though. Her eyes, lips, her features would be a perfect fit." The one with purple hair spoke he grabbed my face I could see a glow in his eyes, something wasn't right. "Melone stand down... We can use this to our advantage." The silver-haired man spoke, pushing Melone away from me. "Formaggio use Little feet. Illuso knock her out." Before I could even say anything I was now small, the size of what felt like a Barbie doll. I was standing on top of the counter. I quickly jumped off and tried making a run for the door. As I ran to the door I could hear the men laughing, someone picked me up by my shirt "WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE PLEASE LET ME GO!" Tears began to fall as I realized that today might be my final day, the one they called Illuso hit me and everything was now dark.
The sound of water splashing echoed in my ear along with people talking from a distance. 
"Wake up sweetheart." My head hurt, and there was a sharp pain in my throat; as if someone was holding a knife to it from the inside of my body. I tried moving but couldn't, my arms and legs were tied up to a chair. We were at a lake from what I could gather. "You're probably wondering what's going on or who we are... We're La Squadra, I'm Risotto. Your father owes us money, the boss isn't too pleased with him since he hasn't paid his dues. We warned him on our last visit that if he doesn't pay up then we'll kill him... But seeing as he's a no-show we'll have to kill you instead." I tried struggling against the ropes but it was no use, "Fight all you want, you won't make it out alive."
Looking at the group of men standing in front of me the blue hair man was holding a camera. "Your fathers next after you die. It seems your father took what little money he could and made a run for it; leaving you to clean up the mess he made." Why would he do this to me? "Once we get him we'll make him watch this video that records your very last moments here on earth. Being tortured by us and then drowning to death."
Tears slid down as they began to hit me. My screams were muffled due to the gag in my mouth, the pain was too much. I began coughing and felt something burst out of my throat. 'How am I still alive? How am I still breathing?!' I thought to myself. "Dump her in" Risotto gave the order and they pushed me into the water behind. I sank quickly; I kept trying to break free from the rope I wasn't gonna die down here not like this.
I was running out of oxygen. I looked up from where I fell seeing a dim light shine from the surface above. I'll just have to accept the fact that this is the end for me. "Y/n!" An image of Bruno came to mind, 'Why am I thinking of him at a time like this?' My head was now cloudy, my eyes blurry, and I couldn't move any part of my body. The last thing I remember seeing was a silhouette swimming toward me.
Where am I? My eyesight was still blurry I could only see a figure standing in front of me. Their mouth was moving but I couldn't hear a thing.
"Y/-"
"Y/n..."
"Y/N please wake up!"
I stood up coughing, "Y/n you're awake! I'm so glad!" The man hugged me. "Bruno?" He pulled away from the hug, it was Bruno. "Yes, it's me. I'm gonna take you somewhere safe... Stay with me okay!" He picked me up and started running, "Why did they do this to you?!"
"My father... The mafia... Money..." I couldn't formulate the words that I needed. I felt tired to speak. "Y/n please stay with me. I'll get you to a doctor but I need you to stay awake." He looked down at me and kept running the sounds of his footsteps began to fade.
When I came to I was in the hospital, Bruno was sitting in a chair sleeping next to the bed. How long has he been here?
"Bruno..." I whispered his name lightly shaking his arm. He opens his eyes, "Good you're awake. How are you feeling? Do you remember anything?"
"I'm okay. The last thing I remember was drowning... How did you find me?" He stood up walked toward the window looked outside and then walked back to me. He spoke in a hushed tone, "I've been keeping an eye on the bakery. Your father requested that I watched in case something were to happen to you. When you were thrown into the water I used my stand to rescue you." Stand? "What's a stand?" I asked him. "I'll explain later. The doctor will be coming here in a bit, when they ask you if you remember anything about the situation you were just in say that you don't remember, and if they ask where you used to work or how you know me tell them that you worked at Libeccio as a waiter." The door then opened a doctor and nurse walked in, Bruno excuse himself and left. They had asked me the same questions Bruno told me to answer, "Seems you may have some sort of amnesia, but it doesn't seem to serve. We'll be discharging you today. Bucciarati Said he'll take you in his care for a bit until you're able to recover." The doctor walked to the door, "We'll run some tests before you go and get the paperwork ready for you."
When they handed me the paperwork I noticed the name on it was wrong, I was gonna say something about it but I guess Bruno noticed and stopped me. We walked out of the hospital and towards his car, "I had to give you a fake name in case they worked for those men." I chuckled, "I get that but," I looked at the name that was written, "Why name me Uovo Sodo (Boiled Egg)?" He smiled and then chuckled, "I'm not so good at naming things, let's just leave it at that."
I started living with Bruno for a bit since I couldn't go home. He asked me if I wanted to join him and become a mafioso and join his team. He explained to me that he wanted to get rid of the mafia, drugs, and bad people like those men who tried to kill me. I agreed to join his team. He set a meeting with Polpo and soon after I joined Bruno's team.
We entered Libeccio I felt a bit nervous. Bruno placed his hand on my shoulder, "They're over there, in the back." I was still hesitant to walk over, "Don't be scared. Trust me they'll like you just as much as I do." He kissed my cheek and took my hand leading me to the group of men, he then let go. "Guys I want you to meet Y/n. She'll be joining our team from now on. Y/n this is Leone Abbacchio, Guido Mista, Fugo Pannacotta, and Narancia Ghirga."
"Woah a girl is joining!?" Narancia spoke. "She's kinda cute. This could be fun." Mista stated... I'll make a mental note to not get so close to him. Fugo stood up taking out his hand, "It's nice to meet you Y/n." I shook his hand, "Likewise."
Abbacchio removed his headphones and crossed his arms, "So this is Y/n, the girl that was legally declared dead not too long ago, huh? How'd you cheat death?" The others seemed confused, I guess Bruno only told Abbacchio what had happened... or he was properly assigned to confirm my death. "Yes, that's me. If it weren't for Bruno I wouldn't be here. I almost drowned to death." I stood in front of the group seeing them look at me with pure amazement.
"Really how? Grab a seat tell us." Narancia Seemed excited to hear about my near-death experience and the other seemed interested as well. I told them everything that had happened. "All I want is to get rid of people like those men and help in any way I can to accomplish that."
After a month I became close friends with Mista, Narancia, and Fugo, they started calling me big sis. However, it did take some time to gain the trust of Abbacchio. Every so often he invites me to drink wine with him and Bruno. And as for Bruno, he and I have become close. Mista has teased me about how Bruno stares at me when I speak or when I'm helping Fugo torture Narancia. I've noticed too.
"I just got a call Leaky-eye Luca was found dead near the airport. I have to get going, I'll be back in a bit." Bruno singled me over to him; we both walked out of Libeccio.
"What is it, Bruno?" I asked him. "We both know time is short for the both of us. After I come back from investigating Luca's death, would you like to go on a date with me?" I smiled so brightly, "Yes, I would." I hugged him feeling so happy and like the luckiest girl alive he hugged me back. "Wonderful, I'll be back shortly okay." We pulled away from the hug a bit and that was when he kissed me for the first time. My heart raced as it felt like time had stopped for us two. "See you soon." He smiled, "Good luck Bruno." We said our goodbyes and he left.
Soon after Giorno Giovanna joined our group, nothing went as planned once he joined.
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Request for One-shot are open!
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lavenderwhirls · 11 months
Text
Chapter 1 : the breeze of your destined fate
《The Regrator's sunlight》
Pantalone x reader|| modern au
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The busy morning streets of Snezhnaya buzz in the background. You, the owner of a small café in Snezhnaya, prepare pastries in the early morning when the atmosphere just seems so peaceful, like a soft breeze.
 
The soft sound of your café's wind chimes snapped you out of your thoughts as you glanced at the door.
 
"Ms. (Name), good morning!" A blond teenage boy waved at you as he entered the café with his twin sister.
 
"Aether! Lumine! Good morning, you two," you happily greet back as you smile at the twins.
 
Aether and Lumine, the two siblings that always visit your mini café on weekends, The two happened to come across your cafe when their little sister, Paimon, ran into it when she smelled something sweet. Their little sister always behaves around you, and you often spoil her with sweets that you bake.
 
"You didn't bring Paimon with you this time?" You ask calmly as they hang their winter coats on the coat rack near the door.
 
"Yeah, she got sick playing with the snow yesterday.
" I blame Aether though; he accidentally threw a snowball at her face." Lumine smiled teasingly at her twin brother, who made an unamused face at her.
 
"Says the one who threw Paimon intentionally on the pile of snow," Aether sassily snarks back at his twin.
 
"I see, Dain is the most responsible older sibling," you tease the twins with a smile.
 
The twins look at you in sync, a playful, betrayed expression on their faces. Lumine laughed as she sat on the stool near the counter with Aether sitting beside her.
 
"Eh, I can't argue with that." Aethet shrugs his shoulders with a playful smile as Lumine agrees.
 
"Are you ordering the usual?" You ask.
 
You walk toward the sink to wash your hands. You carefully listen to their response as you wipe your hand on the clean towel.
 
"Well?" You turn your head towards the two.
 
"I'll get my usual mocha and strawberry cheesecake, please," Aether said after awhile, as you see him message someone on his phone.
 
"And I'll get my latte with the blueberry muffin," Lumine adds with a smile.
 
You nodded and smiled at the twins before preparing their order. Doing your profession with quick and careful movements You prepared the twins order with a smile gracing your lips.
 
Placing the orders on the counter with careful movements, you smiled at the twins.
 
"Thank you," Lumine and Aether unsurprisingly said in sync.
 
Taking their individual orders, Aether checked his phone again. His eyes light up slightly as he turns to you.
 
"Can we get a takeout added, Ms. (Name). One slice of strawberry shortcake and two slices of blueberry cheesecake?" Aether states as he glances briefly back to his phone, then back at you.
 
"Let me guess, Paimon and Dain?" You ask with an amused smile as you start preparing the takeout box for their order.
 
Aether nodded as he turned off his phone before placing it on the counter. He took a sip of his drink as he glanced outside, just watching the snowflakes gently fall before his gaze went back to his phone.
 
"I swear Paimon turns into an angel when Ms. (Name)'s pastries and desserts get involved in the mix," Lumine blurts out with a tone of laughter and amusement in her voice.
 
Aether nods in agreement as you shake your head in amusement.
 
After awhile, both of the twins finished their food. Aether got his wallet out and paid for their orders. Lumine let out a small sound of protest.
 
"Wait! I said I'd be one of the ones to pay this time." Lumine looks at her twin brother as she crosses her arms over her chest.
 
"Pay for lunch later," Aether said with a smile as he pocked his wallet.
 
Putting on their winter coats again, Aether and Lumine waved goodbye as they exited the café with the takeout box in Aether's left hand.
 
~~~~~~
"Have a nice day, maam." You smiled and waved as the middle-aged woman left with her takeout. You calmly look at the clock and notice it's about 10:43 a.m. now.
 
You grab a cloth and wipe the countertop when a customer leaves after finishing their food.
Your gaze snapped back to the door as the wind chimes got your attention.
 
A familiar face greets you.
 
"Oh, good morning, Childe," you greeted and waved at the man.
 
"Good morning to you too! (Name). The usual please." Childe greeted you back as he read the available pastries on the menu.
 
You waited patiently for him to pick something from the menu as you prepared a coffee takeout for him.
 
Childe usually comes by in the afternoon, so it's kind of odd to see him in the café at this time of day.
 
"Picking a pastry or dessert to surprise Teucer with?" You calmly ask as you finish packing up the coffee.
 
"Close, but not that close," Childe responds as his eyes scan the menu before speaking again.
 
"It's for a colleague of mine that I accidentally pissed off," Childe adds with a chuckle and a sheepish tone in his voice.
 
'Pissed off...? ' You think to yourself as you listen for his order.
 
"But now that I'm here, I might as well buy dessert for Teucer." Childe shrugged his shoulders before his eyes landed on a specific pastry.
 
"I will have a takeout of one slice of strawberry shortcake and three chocolate muffins," Childe continues as he now looks at you directly.
 
"Alright" 
 
You nodded and went to take out the pastries to pack them into the takeout box.
 
"Thank you (Name)," Childe thanks you as he pays. With the takeout boxes in his hands, he said goodbye and left.
 
A while later, when you glanced back at the clock, you noticed it was about 7:18 p.m. now. You wipe the tables and counters, preparing for closing time.
 
"This should be good," you mutter to yourself, grabbing your phone to play your playlist on Spotify.
 
Walking over to the back to grab the mop, you hum and sing along to the songs as you clean the floor. After cleaning, you double-checked everything as you put your black apron on the hook. You locked the café as you stood outside in the cold Snezhnayan winter.
 
You gazed at the night sky and smiled, enjoying how the breeze made your hair sway a little.
 
"How beautiful" you mumble to yourself as you walk to your car.
 
Entering your car, you went home peacefully and quietly. The city lights of Snezhnaya illuminate your car window.
 
.
 
"Hey, Pantalone!" Childe sheepishly entered The regrator's office carrying the tidy and cute takeout box containing the strawberry shortcake.
 
"Tartaglia"
 
Pantalone acknowledged the boy's presence, however, not looking up from his paperwork. Irritation can still be faintly heard in the tone of the raven-haired man.
 
The ginger-haired male sheepishly chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. The funds he spent on his mission in Liyue really made the banker irritated at him, considering the large sum of money he spent for unknown reasons.
 
"Oh, c'mon, you can't still be annoyed about that," Childe chuckles as he places the takeout box on Pantalone's desk.
 
With a faint, irritated sigh, Pantalone rubbed his temples and leaned back more on his expensive leather chair, made with the finest leather and materials. One way or another, the banker's eyes seemed to close more in irritation.
 
"What is that?" Pantalone calmly asked after awhile when he gazed at the takeout box with his eyes still closed. Childe has long since disregarded the question of how the hell Pantalone can see with eyes closed.
 
"Consider the dessert a small apology gift," Childe states as he places his hands on his hips.
 
The ravanette looks at the ginger with an unamused expression on his face.
 
"Is this from the small café you always ramble out to Pulcinella?" The banker calmly asked the other male.
 
Pantalone opens his eyes, revealing sharp and piercing golden-yellow eyes. Childe chuckles as he nods, not sorry about how he spent the funds but not wanting to be the output of the banker's anger.
 
On cue, a phone call rang from the ginger-haired male's phone. Thanking God for whatever brought him mercy, he excused himself as he took a phone call outside.
 
Pantalone stared deadpan at the cute takeout box. A small sigh can be heard from the man as he leans forward to grab the takeout box.
 
"What's so special about that mini café? Does he have a crush on the barista?" Pantalone mutters to himself as he opens the cute box. He raised an eyebrow as he was greeted with a cutely decorated slice of strawberry shortcake.
 
"How adorable"
 
The banker mutters quietly to himself as he holds the fork provided inside the box. He decided to taste the dessert to see what's so special about it that their 11th always rambles it to the 5th.
 
A satisfied hum sounded from his mouth as he tasted it. He has already eaten expensive and more decorative desserts out there in the world, including this strawberry shortcake. However, this dessert just sits right with him.
 
"I see," Pantalone states to no one in particular in the room.
 
"So that's what's special about this café," Pantalone smirks slightly to himself as he leans back on the chair.
 
After a brief glance towards the dessert, Pantalone raised an eyebrow, and his smirk grew slightly. He let out a satisfied sigh.
 
"It seems a visit to that café is needed," Pantalone smirks as his golden-yellow eyes twinkle slightly at his office light.
 
"Oh, how you got me curious now," Pantalone said to himself as he briefly glanced back at the dessert before taking another bite.
 
"Deliciously sweet things like care and love are always added to the mixture."
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A System (TM): The non-definitive guide for dealing with dysphoria regardless of medical choices
Someone asked how one deals with dysphoria. The comment was too long for the reply box.
Long comment incoming...I have some gender fluidity going on, so I get buffeted from both sides (likely I tend towards masc, so it doesn't hit too hard).
I...uh...perform a good bit of mental jujitsu on the thoughts. It's gotta get through multiple layers of pre-prepared lifestyle choices, cognitive-behavioral thinking, mindfulness, rationalization, cultivating patience, disassociation, and spite before it really hits me.
Lifestyle Choices:
I'm out everywhere. If someone calls me something else or treats me in another way, they're either misinformed or being dicks about it. If they're the former, I either correct or move on with my day. If the latter, not worth my time. Any hurt I instill in myself from their dickishness is me brandishing their weapon against myself. Moving on.
Keep your friends supportive and your family as supportive as possible. If they can't be supportive, they don't get to know your business.
Don't explain shit.
I don't wear anything that makes me uncomfortable, and I wear the things I wish I wore when I was younger. All the dresses are out of my closet. None of the pants are too tight, and I have a few cut in a masc style, when I feel like it. My clothes don't cling in ways I'm not happy with. I have the good ol' standby dysphoria sweatshirt.
I get any aids I need to for myself. I go to a barber shop for my hair, and I make sure to get it cut when it's long. I've got a binder if I need it, packers, mascara in my cabinet drawer for facial hair. Pronoun pins (that I never wear, but it's nice to have them in my pocket to touch). I carry a knife like a lot of guys where I'm from do.
I try to keep everything else in my life in-shape. Think about dysphoria like a bad knee. If you don't get enough sleep, or you're eating garbage, or you're overtaxing yourself -- that knee's gonna hurt first, before anything else, because it's sensitive. If I'm getting a really bad bout, I check in with everything else first.
Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy:
I check disturbing thoughts against questions like, "if a friend told me this, what would I say to them?" "is the thought reasonable?"
If I spot words like "always" or "never", I flag them & try to re-word them in a less-extreme way, and I bring up counter-examples. E.g. "You'll never pass." becomes "are you sure, never*? That seems a bit harsh.* [check the facts] Even cisgender people get mistaken for the other gender, so even random chance says it'll happen at least once." >> "I'll almost-never pass." >> "Are you sure? Because the guy at the coffee shop says 'hey man!' every time you walk in. He's either clocked you (thus, you're being encouraged & accepted) or he genuinely thinks there's a man in there, somewhere." >> etc.
I think back to other times I've had the thought/experience and survived it. E.g. "What if I'm not really trans?" >> "...dude. You've been asking yourself that for around 3 years. You asked yourself that, then some cashier called you 'sir' and you clung to that in your little heart for most of the morning like a starving man with bread. That is not very cisgender behavior. Don't you think it would've worn off by now?"
I seek out others' diverse experiences. E.g. I feel embarrassed sometimes about sewing, but I know a guy whose literal degree is in costuming. I ain't calling him less of a man for that. Why am I bringing that on myself?
How is this thought functioning in my head? E.g. If I call myself pathetic, do I really think I'm pathetic, or do I want to curl up and sleep and "pathetic" is the quickest way to demotivate me to my bed? Why not not call myself "pathetic", and just treat myself nice and rest instead?
Mindfulness:
"It's just a thought." "It's just a sensation." "This is a sensation [reflect back the sensation to the spot of the sensation, so it knows you heard it]." Know that a thought or sensation is independent of a gender. (Gender is like "the flame unbound.")
Watch the sensation, feel the way your body reacts to it, and don't feed the beast. Just watch. Imagine yourself in a zoo, with a nice big trench between you and the animals. The flesh and thoughts will do their own thing, but you're safely protected from them.
Reality is reality is reality. As Galileo said, when the church insisted their doctrine otherwise, "and yet, it moves." You can think whatever thoughts you have. Other people can say any words they can form their mouths around. Your body can shiver and throb and become nauseated and ache -- None of these change what your gender is. Your gender is the vessel (which sometimes may change itself), and the experiences flow through it.
Rationalization:
"This is dysphoria. This is just what happens when you're brain's expecting one thing and your body's expecting something else."
"It sucks, but you're going to have to deal with it for X long, so you might as well try not to suffer twice by feeding into it."
"Yeah, sometimes it's gonna hurt and/or feel humiliating. Oh well. That's not gonna change your gender; you have other things to worry about."
"My gender can take care of itself right now."
Cultivating Patience:
This is going to take X number of years, or I'm going to have to live with a certain thing for t long. That's just the way things work.
No body is stagnant and without change. No perception is stagnant and without change. Ergo, this feeling of dysphoria, as are all things, is temporary.
See how you feel in 10 minutes/30 minutes/the afternoon/tomorrow. And then you can use an additional coping skill. (My genderfluidity makes this one even more flexible, but thoughts and feelings are themselves mercurial.)
Disassociation:
Read a book.
Scroll through social media (generally not trans content, because that can feed it, but sometimes trans content).
Write.
Walk outside.
Do some laundry.
Vacuum (I hate the vacuum noise, but now I'm bitching about that instead).
Deal with the other aforementioned life tasks that have you stuck here.
Sleep.
Give yourself some time to laze around in bed and just drift.
Go find some friends or call your most-talkative friend with a bunch of petty problems (when you're around other people, you can focus on them and not your gender).
Spite:
I know that there are trans people who've lost years of their lives because of the pain their dysphoria has caused them. I've lost evenings/afternoons/experiences from it too. I have no idea what my middleschool and highschool life would've been if I'd just known, or not had to deal with it. That being said, I'll be damned if it keeps me in bed and losing my life.Sometimes that means showering with my eyes open and the lights on when I don't want to (sometimes, what I see isn't that bad, and it's my head that was worse). Sometimes that means forcing myself out of bed and stumbling around in my comfort hoodie and sweats with my head down -- but at least I'm getting groceries or something.
People who hate trans people getting healthcare generally want to see us go away/disappear/not exist -- some folks by any means necessary. Them holding up care is to make our lives harder and for us to go away. Fuck them. Fuck the state systems. I'm not spending 2+ years bemoaning not looking or sounding like I want to stay home and not do something, just because I'm going to have to wait.
This is a system I've built up over a number of years, listening to bunches of trans peoples' experiences, and going to school for actual psychology. But it works pretty well, and I started at a low-dysphoria place to begin with, so I've been able to tackle symptoms as they've arisen, largely.
(I just realized this is the meme where the ADHD person says they don't have trouble with losing things because they have A System, and the neurotypical person has no idea what A System is...and the A System is itself a signal the person has ADHD. So. I don't have dysphoria. I have A System.)
I will say the dysphoria I deal with now isn't from the same sources I've dealt with in the past, largely. A number of sources I didn't realize made me dysphoric until they went away (or I'd quietly phased them out of my life without realizing it). I also like what Abigail Thorn says about dysphoria: It doesn't exist. Not that the sensations or dissatisfaction isn't there, but that the gap between who one imagines themself to be and who one is is a gap all people have to deal with, not just trans people. Cis people feel the same sort of self-consciousness when a cis woman grows hair on her face as a trans woman. You are not alone, and the systems and circumstances of history have merely added different labels to the universal struggles.
And then I like to pay attention to what does make me happy.
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wessexroyalfamily · 4 months
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{Location: Fogmorre Castle, Avon County, Kingdom of Wessex}
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Head Mover: We should have everything moved into their proper rooms before your family arrives, ma'am.
Queen Anne II of Wessex: And Christian says that he couldn't find his back brace this morning. If you could have someone find the box that it's in and bring it into our dressing room. that would be most appreciated.
Head Mover: Not a problem, I'll get someone to check the list now to see where it is.
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Anne II: I say. I’m impressed how quickly you’ve moved all of our belongings from Claremont House into Fogmorre Castle.
Head Mover: Thank you ma’am, my staff has been preparing for the move for awhile now. Though…
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Head Mover: …(continued) and if I may ask ma'am, we were originally told to prepare two rooms for The Crown Prince and The Crown Princess. That is one for both of them and one for Prince Richard.
Anne II: (uncomfortable) Yes well.
Head Mover: But talking to the Crown Prince's team it sounds like their Royal Highnesses would prefer separate rooms.
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Anne: … Yes, very well. Prepare the Tower Suite for William, it's already furnished nicely, and shouldn't need too much.
Staff: And Margaret, ma'am?
Anne II: Move any boxes or furniture from Claremont House marked B into the Double Suite for Margaret and Richard. We can move it after the weekend after All Saints Day.
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Prince Arthur, The Earl of Falmouth: (off screen) There you are, your staff told me you were looking for me.
Anne II: Yes, its been a busy morning. I've been meaning to pop by.
Prince Arthur: No need for apologies, I can imagine everyone around here is keeping you on your toes (chuckles).
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Anne II: I'm sure you heard about old Lord Poole.
Prince Arthur: It's such a shame having an old friend pass away. I figured you'd want someone from the family to represent you at the funeral? I'd of course be willing.
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Anne II: That's very thoughtful. But I wanted to talk to you about the Order of the Royal Chrysanthemum. With his death a new spot has opened up, and since you are the Grand Master of the order, I'd figure I would talk to you first.
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Prince Arthur: ...yes well. There are a few strong candidates in the National Council that are Peers. Though inducting someone involved in the sciences or Cancer research would be a way to honor Lord Poole.
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Anne II: Well, actually I was thinking about nominating William to take Lord Poole's seat.
Prince Arthur: William, do you think he's ready?
Anne II: I'm not sure if ready is the word. He's seems so lost lately, it's as if he's lost his connection to the Crown. He needs something to reaffirm his sense of commit and purpose to the monarchy.
Prince Arthur: Well if he is meant to be Sovereign of the Order one day, I see no reason for government to deny his knighthood.
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Anne II: Does that mean I have your support?
Prince Arthur: I think it's a wonderful idea. We can have a proper ceremony planned in about a month or two.
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Anne II: What about sooner?
Prince Arthur: How soon?
Anne II: I'd want it done during the upcoming Devon Tour. We can convene the Order then. I can inform my staff to make all the necessary arrangements at Exeter Chapel.
Prince Arthur: All the same to me, if you're sure?
Anne II: More than anything.
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Beginning | Start of Current Chapter | Previous | Next
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Interview with a vice admiral Yamakaji
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Salute recruits and soldiers and good morning to New Marineford ⚓ ⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓
And welcome to this windy Wednesday in my studio 🎙  today none other then our most smiling vice admirals.... vice admiral Yamakaji,  welcome!
Yamakaji puffs out a cloud of cigar smoke,  nonchalant and  smiling as always.
Me >>>> Good morning Yamakaji how are you doing?<<<<
Yamakaji replies puffing on his cigar >>>>  I'm fine thank you. Its interesting indeed to be here <<<<
I chuckle at his complimentary remark >>> Glad you like it ready for the first question?<<<<
The bearly vice admiral nods in agreement.
I check my notes >>>> First question donated by my listener edward-d-sonata. What is your favourite hobby or free time occupation?
Yamakaji exhaled another blow of cigar smoke (I'm just glad that the ventilation is on) >>>> Isn't that the very same question you asked Stainless??? Is it all the same with your listener/reader? <<<<
I sigh this man is sharp >>> Yes it is, we know very little of you guys but we all love our marine men especially that crazy bunch of vice admirals so some questions are bound to be repeated. <<<
Yamakaji smiles increases >>>>  Well if that's the question the answer is  i like to craft in my free time. Mainly jewellery and little treasure boxes both from wood. Unless I need something for someone special.<<<
I have to grin I know where that is going >>> oh yeah I know which is by the way connected to question 2: Are you single ??<<<
He puffs on his cigar again >>> That was a question?<<< , he asked slightly embarrassed.
I nod>>> It was<<< He proudly smiles at me >>>> Well im engaged to be married!<<<< I chuckle i heard the news so I knew >>> congratulations Yamakaji to and your fiance y/n. When is the wedding on? So I assume you crafted something special for her<<<
He rubbed the beard on his chin >>> in 5 weeks exactly! And yes I did an angel necklace<<<
I clap my hands together >>> How beautiful and personal. It must look stunning on her. I know your fiance she's your secretary so... I can expect Dobermans and my official invitation in tomorrow's post???! <<<
Yamakaji laughed whole heartedly >>> You know her she's efficient and her timing is impeccable.<<<
I clear my throat the next question was tricky. As if Yamakaji could read my mind behind his cigar smoke. He asked furrowing his eyebrows >>> What is It? <<< I grumble >>> Well dont be offended. But your engagement happened after your defeat by Boa Hancock are these events related? I'm sooo sorry!<<<
His face became more serious and he blew some more cigar smoke across the room. Yamakaji chuckled >>> Doberman warned me off your sensory abilities,  tapping into others emotions <<< I ask surprised >>> He did ??? Oh brother <<<
Yamakaji chuckles >>> oh its not as bad as you think.... Dobermans chest swells with pride telling everyone about it, he said without flinching if you were trained as a marine you would have the most powerful supreme observations haki in the world, he believes it. <<<
I blush ☺ 😊 >>>  My oh my ...my husband better comes back from his latest assignment I think he needs extra spoils, but... back to business... <<< Yamakaji smiles at the comment made by his host before asking >>> so is your last question officially no 3?<< I nod eagerly >>> yes I make it question 3 are those 2 things related?<<<
He sighs deeply >>> Yes they are but not as you think. After i fell for Hancocks usual seductively devilfruit powers I considered to brake up my relationship with my then girlfriend y/n. How could I marry her if I fall for someone like Hancock?? My lovely y/n reminded me that these things happen and I should take the learning curve and 'suck it up butter cup' was her phrase. And her final words that a female pirate never could understand a real relationship nor marriage when love goes simply beyond just physical attraction. She said I'll make a fabulous husband and about 1 week later I proposed to her.<<<
Boom Micdrop 
I smirked >>> ok you are going to put her words to the test so. But aaaaaaaaw what a dote she must be, so unwavering. You two make a great team <<<
I nod approvingly >>> question 4 is related again... do you 2 plan on starting a family?<<
Yamakaji blushes ever so slightly before answering >>> indeed we do, a few weeks  after the wedding seems reasonable. I love children at least 4,  if I could have it my way but we will see what my leading lady has to say<><
I smile at him >>> that makes actually a nice question 5 if you have children,  would you want them to be marines???<<<<
Yamakaji contemplates his answer for a moment>>>> I wouldn't mind being a proud marine daddy but it will be up to  my future children if they wanted too. If I push to hard their future mother might send me in a time out.<<<, he laughs at his remark.
I laugh at that image in my head >>>> yeah you might want to avoid that. Question 6 What are your favourite foods, dishes drinks ??<
He chuckled >>> oh my interesting question ok first my favourite dish is cottage pie and I have to confess my love for pralines and tea...<<<
>> oh yeah I heard you and Comile are in a bit of a rivalry over tea vs coffee!<<<  I added.
He nodded>>>> yes we are, though I tell you now tea is superior. You can say it is also a hobby of mine<<<
I shrug my shoulders >>>> You know i cannot decide i drink both and Doberman will tell you not to force me to decide.<<<<
Yamakaji chuckles puffs out another cloud if cigar smoke. I continue >>> question 7 how did you end up being a marine <<
He exhaled >> Simple enough, my father was a marine , I'm the only one of all my siblings that followed in his footsteps.<<<
My face brightens up >> oh I'm a sucker for family tree's so question 8 what is your family like? <<<
He smiled while answering >>> I have to very loving parents even if my father is a high disciplinarian, I have 2 sisters and 3 brothers. A larger family and it is amazing. There is always someone there if you need<<<
I nodded satisfied >>> Question 9 oh my.... is sure from one of your female admirers...<<< I clear my throat >>>  What is your love language?<<<
Yamakaji blushed again >>>  I say I tend to combine gifts and quality time. People assume that gifts are purely materialistic but that isn't the case its a very one sided way of thinking.<<<
I smile he gave a sensitive and emotional answer >>> question 10 at the top of my head would you and your bride consider giving an interview together as newly weds, maybe giving advice to freshly married couples?!<<<
He smiles and nods >>> Of course we will and I'll bring some special tea for this occasion !<<
I laugh >>> fantastic its settled so. Thanks for today's interview Yamakaji <<
He smiles >> pleasure was all mine <<<
I grin >>> as for the next interview I will leave it up for my listeners/readers to decide which vice admiral is desired oh and previously interviewed vice admirals are fair game too. So sound of the comments loud and clear. Have a good day you all<<
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moku-youbi · 1 year
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I am 100% not the sort to believe in ghosts/supernatural stuff, but if I'm not haunted, or being visited by fairies, I'm going fucking crazy. There's this thing in our house, where stuff goes missing and returns in the most fucking conspicuous ways. And I get that's a thing that happens, sometimes you just overlook things, etc.
But a few examples:
Did some baking, cleaned kitchen, stored baking in two containers, one for wife to take to work with her, one for keeping at home to enjoy. Sat them both on the island, which was otherwise completely empty except my laptop. Wife gets up, I tell her to take a container to work, go the bathroom. Come out and she's gone, and both containers are gone. Double checked that she didn't move it to table or whatever. No big deal. I call her to ask that she just make sure to bring one home so our son won't be disappointed tomorrow. As the phone is ringing, I turn back to the island, and there is one of the containers. No way I could have fucking missed it, the island was fucking EMPTY and then there was a container again.
Another time, we had this bag of loose leaf tea we both loved and sadly the place that made it was out of business, so we were slowly savouring it. One day, neither of us could find it. We took all our tea out of its cabinet, looked through all the packages and boxes, moved stuff around, no luck. We gave up. Months later, we relocated our tea collection to a different cabinet on the other side of the kitchen, and organised it all. Several months after that (probably close to 2 years since the tea first went missing), I open the *new* tea cabinet, the one that bag had NEVER been in, and it is sitting in the very front. Like you cannot access anything else in the cabinet without moving the bag of tea. So that night, I excitedly ask my wife "OMG, you found the tea, where was it?" Nope, she sure didn't find it. I have NO WAY to explain how this could possibly happen. This is beyond plausible deniablity.
So this morning, I reach for my adderall. I always take one pill out at night and sit it on my nightstand so I can blindly grab/swallow it while still in bed, then snooze another half hour or so until it kicks in. I pat around, but no dice. I pat around some more. I sit up and turn on the light and move my water cup and humidifier off the nightstand before deciding fuck it, this isn't worth the hassel and go grab another one from the bathroom, and figure I'll find it on the floor later. To be clear, these are BRIGHT BLUE pills and my nightstand is a pale brown, so the pill stands out. I doze off, wake up, grab my water off the nightstand. Still no pill and now the overhead lights are on as well as my lamp. Oh well. Go brush my teeth, pee, come back and the pill is perfectly balanced on the front edge of the nightstand, so that half of it is hanging off. Completely conspicuous, no way to miss this bright blue pill in the very fucking front, and honestly with all the moving shit around, there's no way it wouldn't have just fallen right off when I grabbed my water.
I said thank you, because I don't wanna piss anyone off, and I guess as far as hauntings could go, it could be a whole lot worse. They tend to return shit, at any rate. However there is a container of chestnuts they stole a good 8 years ago that they can keep at this point.
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nightcall99 · 29 days
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Dreams from 29.4.24
Dream 1 A scene where a student was serving a customer and told them it would take 2 minutes to do something. I got annoyed and said it's actually going to take 15 minutes as there as multiple requests in line for the same thing
Dream 2 I was opening up the shop in the morning and SM had arrived. I tried to avoid him by going up to the front and pretending to be busy, but when I turned back around, we both ended up in the same aisle walking toward each other. He told me his gf was here and that she had something to tell me. I snapped at him, I said, Why would I want to talk to her? As if the mere mention of it should be inconceivable. He seemed taken back since I can be abrupt but am not usually so rude. When I got back to my work station, she showed up and it turns out I actually quite liked her and didn't mind her company. We spoke about books. I was trying to tell her about a fantasy romance novel called The Fourth Wing and asked if she'd read it. Her answer was vague, she had only heard of it. She recommended me some other books. There wasn't time to have a proper conversation, because I was working and people needed attending to. I said to her, I'll speak to you next time. I really did like her.
Dream 3 A dream where on the floor of my cupboard, I found some old gifts with cards attached that were gifted on my birthday celebration. I had forgotten about them. It seemed to be from awhile ago and I had never opened them. I think it was two boxes of chocolates from various acquaintances, the sort of nothing gift you give someone out of obligation, or because you don't know them that well. I looked at them, hesitating. I didn't seem to know what to do. I didn't really want to read the card or open the chocolates up. I was sure that the cards contained empty words and the chocolate was a meh brand you can easily get at a supermarket.
Dream 4 I was walking away from the train station, and was now across the road from it, because I had resigned myself to catching an Uber for some reason. I was ordering the Uber on the app, putting the pin down on the map for my location. After I'd done it, I wondered if I had really chosen the most logical spot for the driver to pick me up since I was in the middle of a busy road. It would be fine but I still felt a little anxious for some reason. It would have been better, a smoother pick up on the other side of the road. At that moment a train appeared and in that second, I decided I would actually catch the train after all. I raced toward it. I was worried that I wouldn't have enough money on my train card but I tapped on and it was fine, I saw the green tick. I didn't have time to bother checking the balance, as long as it was accepted that was all that mattered. I boarded the train and sat down. There was a couple sitting near me who were acting odd but I can't really define in what way specifically, just that I noticed them. They were eating snacks which I was envious of, since it was a new kind of snack, a blend between ice cream, cookies and marshmallow. I wondered where they got it from. What stop did they board the train from? Maybe the new dessert shop was around that place? I also didn't really want them to notice me, I tried to look busy scrolling Insta reels on my phone.
Also it's worth noting that the train station in my dream exists in my real life. To get home from this train station, it would be an 8 minute ride, and then an 8 minute walk home. The Uber ride would also have taken 8 minutes, but I don't know how long I would spend waiting for it.
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randomshyperson · 2 years
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Wanda Maximoff x Reader - The Love Slideshow - Part Two
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Summary: When you return to the Avengers Compound, you have the strangest news that your best friend is dating the microwave. As if that wasn't bad enough, Natasha pulls a prank and you end up with a slideshow to prove a point.
Warnings: (+18), soft and passionate smut, first time, bottom Wanda, oral (r giving), lap sitting, bath smut, thigh riding, love speeches, praising, very fluffy, mentions of sad past, canon divergence, an attempt at humor, domestic avengers, brief mentions of insecurities. || Words: 8.692k
A/N: I tried to close the story and ended up mentioning even a little bit of the multiverse, but at least we have the first time of Reader and Wanda. I don't know if I'll ever do a part three (things are getting hints about where they go according to canon), but it's here and I hope you like it.
All Works Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad || Part One
--//--
Wanda refused to let you go even after the movie was over, and most of the Avengers were stumbling in sleepy steps back to their rooms.
She tightened her hands around you and murmured into your neck for you to kindly take her back to her room, and you did so very willingly, carrying her on your lap - and ignoring the giggles and insinuating glances of your colleagues still present - the next moment.
Placing her gently on the bed, you made mention of getting up, but Wanda wouldn't loosen her grip on you.
"Sleep here." She asked in a whisper, her eyes searching yours. You smiled, your hands around her waist.
" I will be up very early tomorrow, I have a meeting with Steve about the mission. I don't want to bother you." You explain your hesitation since, at any other opportunity, Wanda wouldn't even need to ask.
"I don't mind." She assures you by closing her eyes again, her arms pulling you down. "Stay."
Even though you lay back down, holding her against your chest and stroking her hair until she fell asleep, you really did get up too early in the morning.
Wanda mumbled in her sleep, barely absorbing the gentle apology you said to her as you got up, but she smiled as she felt your lips on her forehead, the sweet "Good morning, my dear. See you later." before your warmth faded, and Wanda had to be content with just the blankets.
You needed to present to Steve the reports from the last mission, and well, you would be busy almost all morning. A few hours later, when Wanda got up and finished using the bathroom, she stumbled half sleepily back to her room, smiling as she noticed the television on with the presentation she had interrupted last night.
Wanda sat on her knees, her hands went to the small remote control you left on the carpet. She smiled as she continued the PowerPoint, feeling her chest warm up towards the slides on "Wanda Maximoff's most amazing missions, Reasons to consider Wanda a 'cinnamon roll who can actually kill you', favorite things Wanda likes to do". You put a little bit of everything of who she was, and Wanda was smiling with tears in her eyes as she finished looking at everything.
She stood up again to walk toward the box of items you had brought the night before and found herself blushing at the rest of the items you brought. There was a small vase with little papers of your favorite things about her, a guitar pick that you handmade with the avenger's symbol for her to practice, pictures of various moments that you took of her, and a small snow globe with Novi Grad on it.
The last item made Wanda frown.
It was a makeshift package of several letters and postcards stuck together. The biggest surprise was seeing her name on it. With a smooth motion, she tore the string that held them together and checked the first letter.
To: Wanda Maximoff. Avengers Compound, New York City. September 2015.
"Dear Wanda,
I am in Amsterdam now, and all the leaves are orange like the setting sun I can see from my window. I know Steve said you need to get some decent training before you can join missions, but I wish you were here. I would show you all the pubs with equally expensive and bad drinks, and the museums of this city. I was walking down the boulevard earlier, while following who I should (you know how these missions work), and I witnessed a marriage proposal. It was very lovely but made me unsure. I wondered if I would ever have the courage to tell you how I feel. If I would ever get down on my knees if we worked out, or if somehow I would just mess things up like a couple I saw arguing in the apartment next to mine. For now, my secret words will be my only answer to this."
Wanda choked softly, her eyes filled with tears. All the other letters and cards followed the same pattern, written in the times when you were sent on distant missions and were away from the compound for days or even weeks. They were all about your routine, descriptions about the destinations with funny and romantic stories, and many cut and rewritten sentences about your feelings towards her.
Wanda has received correspondence from you before. Never one that made her blush like the one named 'Paris, July' where you described your desire to run your lips over her body, or the 'London, February' where you write about imagining her taste. Wanda had to sit down for a second, fingers trembling when reading the sentences of “I can only imagine how I would easily get addicted to all the pretty sounds you would do when I put my mouth in you”.
All you ever sent were encrypted messages about being safe, letters addressed to all the Avengers and not just her. This was new. Well, actually it was old, but she had never seen it before and was overwhelmed for a moment to realize how much love and desire you have been keeping to yourself all this time.
She only realized she was crying when a tear fell on one of the pages, and with an embarrassed laugh, she wiped her face quickly, her heart racing in her chest.
A knock on the door made her raise her eyes, and Natasha entered in the same next.
"Hey, Maximoff, we have some training now." Notified the widow, but as soon as she realized the other's condition, she frowned in concern. "Is everything okay?"
Wanda laughed tearfully, nodding quickly. She was speechless still but didn't have to explain much because Nat approached next and noticed the box of items, her gaze falling to the cards in Wanda's hand.
"She finally found the courage to show them to you?" She asked and Wanda frowned slightly, swallowing dryly.
"Did you know about this?"
Nat gave a soft chuckle. "Unfortunately I made the mistake of opening one of them when we had a mission together. I was left traumatized."
Wanda laughed embarrassedly, shaking her head. "Why didn't she ever send them to me?"
Nat sighed softly, shrugging. "Well, technically she shouldn't send anything that could compromise her disguise or location. That, and also the thing about her not admitting she was in love with you, I guess."
Wanda swallowed dryly, looking away from the sweet words to the friend in front of her. "That would have saved us so much time. I never realized that..."
"She loved you back?" Nat completed with a certain irony. "Yeah, I know. You two are pretty oblivious. And if you must know, Wanda, sometimes the people who talk the most about self-love and confidence are the ones who need the most help."
With a frown, Wanda asked, "What do you mean?"
"Every time I told her to tell you, she refused. It was never the right time, she used to say. And when this thing with Vis came up, she didn't even get angry. Then it occurred to me that maybe it wasn't about finding the right time, or about her not having the guts, but rather about Y/N thinking she wasn't the right person for you. Like she never deserved you in the first place."
Wanda absorbed the words in silence, and Nat moved closer to sit in the chair next to her. "I'm only saying this because she's my best friend, and you two have been through a lot. I want you both to be happy now, Wanda, but a relationship is always an exchange, you know?" Continues the redhead. "Y/N is here for you, making presentations and gift boxes, and making sure you know that you are loved and all that. Will you do the same for her?"
Wanda nodded softly. “Of course.” She answered without hesitation, which made Nat smile. But soon the widow checked her wristwatch and sighed.
"Unfortunately the love statements will have to wait until later." She said. "Hurry up witchy, you are already eight minutes late for practice, and reading erotic letters is not an acceptable excuse."
With an awkward laugh, Wanda got up to change into her training clothes.
–//–
Sam was training with Wanda when you arrived at the gym.
The meeting with Steve had been a bit exhausting, and he wanted other information, but for now, you were free to train. Throwing the little witch a wink as soon as she looked at you, you continued your way to the mat of Natasha, who had been assigned as your partner for the day.
"Good morning, Romanova." You greeted as you approached, and Nat smiled breathlessly, not stopping beating the punching bag in front of her.
"Good morning, sunshine." She retorted. "I hope you slept well, I won't take it easy on you."
You gave a confused laugh, raising an eyebrow at her as you moved to put on your training gloves.
"And why not?"
"You know what I had to do this morning? A video call. Any idea who to?"
"No...?"
"Melina." She retorts with precise punches. "Because you just had to tell Pietro about them. He tormented me the whole breakfast until I agreed to call her and introduce them. Now Yelena is coming here next week."
"Really? That's incredible!" You comment automatically, but Nat's angry face makes you swallow dryly. "Come on, Nat, don't be like that. You were tormenting me, and besides, it's about time you told everyone about your family. We're your friends."
"Get on the mat, L/N." She ordered making you sigh in defeat.
Although Natasha had been ruthless, quick jabs and punches that would have hurt you if you weren't trained, you knew she wasn't truly angry. It was just uncomfortable to go against her nature of keeping secrets from everyone about everything and learning to trust others. It was very likely that if you hadn't helped her free the widows years ago and put an end to the Red Room, even you wouldn't have known about her family.
Out of breath and tired, you miscalculated a defense and Nat hit you on the feet, knocking you to the tatami. The fact that she didn't finish the blow confirmed your theory that she was only pretending to be angry, and you can't help the giggle you let out.
"Idiot." She complained upon seeing your expression, offering a hand to help you stand. You accepted, but when you got up, Nat didn't let go of your hand and looked at you almost unsurely. "Y/n, I just... I just want Yelena to be safe."
You swallowed dryly and nodded. "I know." You said. "But she's an adult now, Nat. You have to trust her choices, too."
With a sigh, Nat commented, "It's hard for us, isn't it? Trusting people."
You gave her a sad smile, using your free hand to squeeze her shoulder. "We can learn, Romanova. I trust you."
She smiled. "I trust you, too." She returned it and you both smiled at each other before returning to training.
Many minutes later, you and Nat finished the session and among laughing and pushing each other with your shoulders you walk to the locker room. But you choked softly when you bumped into Wanda on the way.
"Oh, hello you." You greeted in a mixed tone of amusement and sweetness, moving your body in the same direction as hers, a short dance about who gets out of the way of the other first, which made her chuckle with reddened cheeks and Natasha let out a comment about you two being adorable before she stepped past Wanda toward the showers.
"Hi, sweetheart." The little witch returned, in her hands was a wet towel as well as her hair. "You need a bath."
"Too bad you can't join me." The comment escapes your lips before you can control yourself, and makes Wanda gasp in a short laugh, raising an eyebrow at you.
An apology is on the tip of your tongue when she complements it with an intense look, "Too bad indeed."
Biting your lips, you let your gaze fall to her mouth for a second before meeting her eyes. "See you at lunch then?"
Wanda nodded, and you smiled, leaning instinctively toward her. She let out a chuckle as she raised her hand in front of your shoulder to stop you. "Shower first."
Making a face of false offense, you raise your hands to your cheeks, "Oh my god, Maximoff, kiss your girl."
She laughs, fighting the grip "Nooo, you're all sweaty." She whines trying to push you away, but without really trying. You tighten your arms around her, wiping your face against her and Wanda lets out loud exclamations amidst laughter.
"Unconditional love, baby." You comment laughing along with her.
"God, you're the worst." She complained giggling giving up on pushing you away. Still smiling, you deposited several kisses against her cheek making her giggle before you let go and gave her one last kiss on her skin to go take a shower.
"See you later, witchy." You say biting back a smile as you release her and Wanda nods, finally leaving the locker room.
When you join Nat in the shower area, she shoots you a teasing look.
"What is it?" you ask.
"You two are so gay." She retorts making you laugh.
–//–
Dating Wanda is like being in heaven.
She's everything you've ever wanted. And you think you've never been happier. But that doesn't mean that real life has stopped happening.
Your last mission was a success, and Steve was very pleased with the information you had gathered. You knew that he was hopeful about finding his friend with greater certainty now. For the time being, the Avengers had no missions insight, and when Yelena arrived at the compound over the weekend, everyone wanted to meet her.
It was a good thing that Pietro and she got along so well right away because it meant less time in which your brother-in-law would be tormenting you with his teasing about you dating his sister.
So while the Avengers went to introduce New York to Miss Belova - whom you already knew well, and were more intimate enough to say 'Lena, I'm not going to pass up the opportunity to be alone with my girlfriend' and know that she wouldn't mind - you and Wanda stayed at the compound.
Wanda was engaged in her study of the little magic encyclopedia you had made for her. And at this moment, while you were sitting on her bed, rereading the last mission reports in search of missing details as Steve requested, she had her head in your lap, murmuring charms.
It was becoming something of a routine. Stroking Wanda's hair while she studied. And as the days passed, your hand instinctively found that place as she lay against you.
Only a few days since Yelena arrived - and she was staying for a while because she was on vacation from college - Steve organized the monthly cleaning and you had to re-organize the items in your room.
Wanda - who didn't have much stuff, because well, her country had been destroyed and there wasn't much to bring to the compound - finished her cleaning very quickly. So did Pietro, but he went looking for some prank to do in Yelena's company, probably something to torment the captain, like increasing the amount of washing powder or making some item disappear. Wanda preferred to visit your bedroom.
It was a complete mess. Boxes everywhere, open closets, clothes on the bed.
"Y/N?" She called as she entered through the open door.
"In here!" You answered from the closet. "I'm sorting the coats." You explained as you grabbed about six different pieces from the rack and moved them to the bed. "Can you believe I brought at least one set of clothes from all the trips I've taken?"
"Baby, I think you might have a hoarding problem." Wanda commented wryly making you laugh lightly. You went back inside the closet, and she let her gaze run around along with her hands, which at this moment was on the thick coat on top of her bed.
Wanda was impressed by the number of items you had inside the closet. It wasn't just coats from mission sites you had gone to, but all sorts of things you had kept. Mugs, books, a skateboard, paintings. Wanda had a fun time looking through all those things. It was a shame that most of it were leaving, but she made a mental note about telling Steve to donate at least half of that stuff.
But then, while you were muttering to yourself about whether or not to keep some of the science magazines you found in the last drawer of your closet, Wanda opened a drawer of the smaller dresser in your closet and held her breath for a moment.
There were many items she was not familiar with, others it was easy to deduce what they were for, which didn't help the heat in her cheeks. If she concentrated, she could even imagine you using it on her.
She was so wrapped up in her own imagination that she didn't notice you approaching, only when an embarrassed chuckle echoed in her ears did she blink away from the drawer.
"You found those." You muttered half clumsily yet humorously, a stack of magazines in hand at you led to the bed. " I had forgotten you still had those things."
Wanda played with her rings as she looked back at you and asked, "Did you ever use them?"
"What? No!" you quickly clarified with an embarrassed laugh, your face very warm.
"Really?" Wanda insisted half surprised.
You gave another awkward smile before nodding. "They were just part of the disguise, to make it look more convincing. They stayed in a briefcase the whole mission if I'm not mistaken, so I guess I forgot to throw them away."
"Got it." Wanda mutters, looking away from you for a moment. You swallow dryly before commenting:
"Toys are for partners you trust, Wands. To use with someone you have real intimacy with. I never had that."
Wanda stared at you for a moment, then nodded in understanding. She didn't need to ask to know what you were confessing to her. Taking one last look at the drawer of sex toys, she told you:
"Don't throw them away."
And her look was enough for you to blush and nod, casting a shy smile before returning to arranging the room.
–//–
Making a second volume of the Magic Encyclopedia for Wanda was taking longer because you wanted something better than the first, which meant you needed Vis to use his skills more accurately which took time. You also wanted to avoid so much unreliable information - you were still annoyed to hear that Wanda couldn't find any use for at least dozens of pages taken from some Reddit sensationalist - so you had the bright idea to investigate that clue in Asia.
Steve wasn't too sure about letting you and Wanda chase a forum comment about a wizarding community on the other side of the world, but you reminded him that not only was Wanda powerful enough to protect herself from anything, but he had also done everything he could to find Bucky, including placing you for weeks as an undercover agent searching for clues about the Winter Soldier.
That's how you and Wanda ended up in Nepal, eating street food.
"I think we're close." You commented as you were trying to look through the crowd of people passing by the fair where you were standing.
Wanda finished chewing on the tasty momo before saying, "We better figure it out before dark, the guy at the hotel didn't seem to like us very much."
"I think it's because I knocked over all those letters." You return, making her laugh softly.
Fortunately, you don't have to walk far.
The clue led to the entrance of some kind of temple, and you exchanged a glance with Wanda before knocking on the door. As soon as a man opened, you spoke:
"Hello, we are here-"
"We've been expecting you, Miss L/N." You cut in with a sigh. "But you are late, I imagine you have chosen the lunch alternative. Please come in."
He opened the door and made room for you and Wanda to do so. As soon as it closed, Wanda asked:
"Excuse me, but how do you know who we are?"
"The Ancient One will explain everything to you." He replied simply as he led the way.
It turned out that Wanda was kind of an important figure. The man at the entrance was named Wong, and he led you through the temple that had the name Kamar Taj. You were trying to remember all of those names along with the incredible little discoveries you made when you entered.
All about magic, sorcerers and spells and Wanda having some kind of powerful destiny made your head hurt a little.
At least they gave you some biscuits.
"I wasn't sure I was going to meet you, Miss Maximoff." Commented the Ancient One - a balding woman who was some kind of magical master and had spent the last few minutes explaining about the magical world to you two - as she poured some tea. "Our timeline has been doing so surprisingly well with so many variations."
Neither you nor Wanda knew exactly what to answer about that, so you chose chummy nods instead.
"I will assign Master Strange to be your Tutor." Declared the woman then.
"My Tutor?"
"Yes, you will need one." She explained gently. "Your chaos Magic will be quite difficult to control, so it is essential that you have assistance so as not to lose that fragile grip of it."
"Sorry, I don't know what you are talking about." Says the other with an awkward laugh.
"Don't worry, everything will clear up as you study your powers." Said the other woman. "And if you have any questions, I will answer what I know. For now, accompany Master Wong to our library."
Wanda nodded, finishing her tea and getting up. When you made mention of accompanying her, the Ancient One asked you to stay. After exchanging a look with Wanda, who smiled in the assurance that everything was fine, you turned your attention to the older woman in front of you, hearing Wanda and Wong's footsteps grow more distant.
"It's really a pleasure to meet you, Y/N." Said the woman, sitting down at the tea table and gesturing for you to do the same. With a sigh, you made it away half-heartedly as you stared at her.
"Did you want to tell me something?" You asked suspiciously, but the woman just smiled.
"What do you know about the multiverse?" She questioned making you frown slightly.
"Science fiction is more my friend Bruce's thing than mine." You retorted making her laugh.
"Oh, it's not fiction, Miss L/N." She says. "But for someone dating a witch, I would imagine you are more open-minded than that."
You smile shrugging your shoulders. "I try to be. So okay, the multiverse is a real thing. I don't know much about it though."
"You don't have to know either." She retorts mysteriously. "That kind of knowledge is reserved for masters of the mystic arts or nexus beings. You are neither in this universe."
Frowning in confusion, you repeat: "In this universe?"
"There are infinitely many of them." She says. "And in many, you don't even exist."
"Okay...?"
"Yet, in this one, you are Y/N L/N, a former Black Widow who is trying to be better than in the past by helping all her friends at once." The Ancient declares and you swallow dryly, not interrupting. "Timelines can be unpredictable sometimes, and that is the case in this universe. I was surprised to meet Miss Maximoff, because being a Nexus being, she is capable of rewriting her destiny beyond what was planned for her."
"And what is planned for her?" You question suspiciously.
"I can't say." She says and you frown, letting out a disappointed sigh. The woman smiles, leaning in a little. "Haven't you ever heard that, Miss L/N? It's like dreams. You can't tell or they don't come true."
"I guess so."
"Don't distress yourself though." She asks. "Wanda is doing very well. Thanks to you I should say."
"Me?"
"That's why I asked you to stay behind." Clarifies the old woman. "I wanted to see you up close."
"Why?"
"You are a variation on the timeline." She said and moved her fingers in the air making a golden thread extend in front of her. "Most people are undetectable when they are not a Nexus. They fulfill their destinies and die, and life moves forward. And then sometimes, there are people like you. Who change the destiny of others."
You blink confusedly away from the golden line. "I don't understand."
"General Dreykov has kidnapped more girls than we can count on our fingers." She then says, making you lock your jaw. "But you survived. Him, the training. Anyone else could have helped Natalia Romanova, but it was you who made sure she saved her sister and gave them years together with as much normality as they could."
"So what?"
"You also saved Pietro Maximoff at the battle of Sokovia." She added and you cleared your throat, half confused by the conversation.
"I just turned off the weapons on the jet, it was no big deal."
"You have no idea how different Wanda would be if he had died."
"Well, he didn't. Can you say what you mean at once?"
The Ancient One smiled at your impatience. "I don't mean anything." She retorted. "I just wanted to meet you, and wish you a good life."
"That's so weird." You mumble clumsily, standing up. "I think I'd better take Wanda away from this place."
"Do not fear what you do not understand, Miss L/N." The old woman says simply. "And don't try to tame her. Just be by her side for whatever she needs."
"I don't need a stranger to tell me how to be a good girlfriend, madam." You retort, starting to get annoyed. "They went that way, right? Excuse me."
She made no mention of stopping you, and you made your way down the hall to the library, meeting Wanda within minutes.
But all your earlier suspicion and irritation vanished when you saw her excitement, eyes shining as Wong answered her questions, a few books in her arms.
You wouldn't try to take that away from her. So you just sighed and put your hands in your pockets as you waited for her at the entrance.
–//–
You both returned to the Avengers' compound that afternoon. Wong made some kind of magical portal - from which you were still recovering - and you only had to go through it to be on the other side of the world.
"I'll come for these next week, and you can take others. See you, ladies." Wong said over the books before closing the portal.
"I think I need a drink." You said looking at the Avengers compound in front of you where a portal was open before. Wanda gave a giggle and nodded in agreement.
After briefly explaining to your colleagues how you arrived from Nepal in record time and telling them a little bit about everything about the trip, you were starving.
Yelena and Pietro were engaged in some kind of challenge games, Sam and Steve were watching television, Bruce and Tony were in the lab, and you, Wanda, Nat, and Vision were in the kitchen, chatting away about the Kamar Taj.
"[...] So the only thing you two did on the trip free of all your friends was study and eat street food?" The redhead asked in a mix of incredulity and amusement, and Wanda - who was sitting on a stool next to the widow - gave a confused giggle.
"Yes?" She asked. You didn't realize the double meaning of what Nat was trying to imply until you took your eyes off the dinner ingredients to look at her, and were thankful for the hot pan that you could blame for the redness on your face.
"Pansexual disasters, you two. No game at all." Teased the widow.
"I get the impression that there is a joke of sexual nature going on here." Vision stated, taking his attention away from the books Wanda had brought - which he had been analyzing - into the conversation. Natasha laughed, nodding in agreement, and you and Wanda exchanged embarrassed glances.
"Yes, there is, Vis." The widow said. "The joke is because those two won't admit how much they want..."
"Romanova I have secrets of yours, don't forget." You hummed in desperation as you interrupted her. Nat laughed, squeezing her eyes shut, but didn't insist.
"Okay." She said. "Come on, Vis, let's make sure Yelena and Pietro don't go over the edge in their pranks and end up destroying something."
Like the other two leave, you clear your throat in shame. "Nat is just trying to get back at me for spilling the beans about Yelena. Sorry about that."
Wanda gave a little laugh. "I don't really mind." She assured. "It's not like she's lying."
In a surprise, you miss the grip on the knife slicing the carrots and end up cutting your finger. A soft exclamation of pain, and Wanda is moving toward you quickly.
"Shit." You grumble moving to grab a dishcloth. It's nothing serious, but it hurts.
"Let me see." Wanda asks as she stops in front of you, her hands moving to yours. She traces her fingers across your skin, raising your hand to chest height. "What a clumsy baby."
With a warm face, you watch her bring your hands together, and lower her face to kiss the tip of your hurt finger, turning her gaze to you and making you swallow dryly. "Better?"
All you can do is stare at her lips, so close and inviting. She smiles, her eyes glittering with mischief as she instinctively leans in. "Your thoughts are so loud." She whispers when her lips are almost touching yours.
"Make them a reality, then." You retort and she nods softly, breaking the distance between you two. The kiss is soft, yet intense. Wanda sighs as your tongue slides out, teasing her lower lip until it brushes against hers. With her free hand, she tangles your hair, and you let yours meet her waist.
When you part for breath, Wanda gasps softly against your mouth, "You're going to burn dinner."
"I've always been a terrible chef anyway, no one will be surprised." You return, kissing her again and enjoying her smile against your lips. She releases your bruised hand to land hers in your neck and you are about to push her against the countertop when someone clears their throat and you part quickly, blushing over the gaze of a certain captain.
"Let's keep it PG through dinner for the sake of the team's mental health, please?" Steve sneered, and you and Wanda laughed embarrassedly as you shook your heads in agreement.
–//–
Wanda has been really busy with her studies.
You only realized how much you were truly missing her presence when you misstepped for the fifth straight time in practice because you were thinking of some opening in your routine that would make a date with her possible, and ended up getting kicked in the face.
"Y/N! Jesus! Why didn't you duck?" Sam questioned worriedly and in desperation as he rushed to help you stand again.
"Sorry, Sammy." You grumbled accepting the help. "I'm just a little distracted."
He sighed. "Is this about Wanda?"
You hesitated, scratching at the back of your neck. "Is it that obvious?" You asked, making him smile.
"Actually, it is." He said. "You've always blocked that one blow. What's wrong, did you guys fight or something?"
"What? No, not at all!" You quickly clarified. "I just miss her."
"Oh, so it's about her new studying, then. With that pompous wizard." Sam commented, gesturing for you to get off the tatami, and you giggled as you agreed.
Wanda had been learning magic for a few weeks, and the Avengers had the opportunity to meet her tutor, the eccentric Doctor Stephen Strange. Everyone thought he and Tony were the magical and technological equivalent of each other.
"Why don't you ask her out for something?" Sam suggests as soon as you guys get down from the ring, and you sigh as you take off your training gloves.
"She's not even here today." You say a little upset. "I think she was going to learn something important because Stephen came to pick her up and asked her to take a bag. She left me a note because I wasn't even at the compound when she left, I have been busy helping Steve with our next operation."
"That sucks." Sam comments and you sigh, shrugging.
"It's okay, we'll find our rhythm again. Maybe when Steve finds Bucky and Wanda doesn't have so many training sessions anymore." You mutter distractedly but Sam puts a hand on your shoulder.
"Listen, missions and training will always exist, they are part of our daily life." He begins. "You both look miserable without each other's company, and I wouldn't want to see your relationship get damaged because of it. Don't postpone your happiness. If you want to be with Wanda, be with her."
You absorbed Sam's words in silence for a moment. He gave you a reassuring smile, squeezed your shoulder one last time before heading towards the changing rooms.
Sam was definitely right, so you needed a plan.
–//–
Wanda was exhausted. Physically and mentally speaking.
Right now, she was sitting on the edge of one of the roofs of Kamar Taj, trying to absorb exactly everything she had been told about her destiny.
The Scarlet Witch is considered a myth.
Strange's words still echoed in her head.
You need to be careful who you become from now on.
Wanda was confused. And angry, and scared. And for the first time since she had started all this, she felt completely alone.
Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket and she blinked away from the scenery to check it. You had sent her a message, but just seeing your name made her smile a little.
Hey, my favorite little witch, what time will you be back? I want to see you."
In theory, Wanda was supposed to stay but she just send you an audio message that she was going to pack everything up over and stood up intending to tell Strange that she needs a break, only to be conjuring up her newly learned teleportation portals to the Avengers Compound minutes later.
But Wanda didn't find you right away. The place was empty and quiet, she figured most of the Avengers were at their appointments. She texted Pietro, who only replied that he was downtown with Natasha and Yelena buying some things and that he was pretty sure you were home.
Then Wanda sighed as she made her way to her own room, removing her coats and shoes.
She was strangely surprised to hear a noise from inside, but as she opened the door, she was faced with you stumbling on the carpet at the bathroom exit, some empty items in your hands that she recognized as bath salts.
"Wow, you're here already!" You exclaimed in surprise and embarrassment, hiding the items behind your back. "Hi."
"Hey, baby, what are you up to?" You asked the brunette with a suspicious smile, leaving her shoes on the door as she approached.
"A surprise." You say, smiling as Wanda breaks the distance to give you a soft kiss on the lips. "You seemed tired on the phone, I thought I'd set up a bath. Like the ones in movies, you know? But I didn't have all the stuff, so I had to run to the grocery store and buy it, and I asked Nat to fetch things for me and-"
Wanda laughed affectionately at your babbling, kissing you to make you quiet down. You sighed softly, enjoying the feeling.
"Thank you, my love." She said, her hands landing on your shoulders as she looked at you adoringly. "Care to join me?"
Feeling your face heat up, you choked softly. "I-I..."
"We don't have to do anything." She added quickly, and she looked really tired. "I just want to be with you."
You nodded then, swallowing dryly as you kissed her one last time more softly. "Lead the way."
Wanda did, her hand entwining with yours as you discarded the items you were holding in the trash. She led you to the bathroom, and then let go, beginning to work on her own clothes without haste and making you bite your lips.
When Wanda stood in just her bra and panties, she turned her face toward you, and although it was as red as yours, the look on hers was to encourage you to do the same.
Clumsily, you began to undress quickly, almost tripping over your pants when Wanda removed the bra in front of you. Blinking shamefully away from the image of her breasts, you removed the rest of your clothes.
Wanda bit her lips, moving closer to you to lift your chin with her finger. "Don't be shy, baby. I'm yours to look at." She warned, smiling mischievously at a soft grunt you let out before she stepped away to get into the tub first. But when she let her panties slide down her legs, you looked away, face burning as you tried to breathe normally.
Wanda sat up, hugging your legs as she watched you finish the last two pieces. You cleared your throat softly but finally stood naked, hurrying to join her in the water.
As you sat down, Wanda looked at the little shrine you had planned, the candles, the chocolate, and the wine. She propped her chin on her knee and waited for you to look at her before speaking, "Thank you for doing all this."
You smiled, relaxing your back against the tub. "It was no bother at all, Wanda. I like taking care of you."
Although you smiled, there was a hesitation in her. But you didn't press, watching her trace patterns on the edge of the tub for a moment in comfortable silence between the two of you.
"How was your day, darling?" You asked, leaning over to reach for the scented soaps beside you. She sighed softly, not answering right away, and you took the opportunity to ask if you could soap her up, to which Wanda agreed with a small blush. As your hand strode gently across her front, spreading the soap, Wanda studied your features concentrating on your task.
"I learned some new things today." She finally told, and you hum in signaling that you were listening. "Bad things."
You frowned immediately, raising your eyes to her and stopping your movements.
"Like what?"
"Just...about me." She says, sounding small and unsure like you've never seen before. Your hand free of bubble foam goes to her face, caressing her cheek.
"What about you?"
Wanda sighs, seeming to try to gain some courage. "It's about the kind of witch I am. There's something about them that's bad. Strange says... Well, the books say, that my destiny is to destroy the world."
You blinked in surprise at the information, and Wanda cringed a little in the tub, tightening her arms on her own knees and looking away from you. You recovered from the shock then, bringing your hand to her hair, and letting the soap sink into the water to put your hand over hers.
"How embarrassing for thousand-year-old mages to be wrong, I imagine." You said simply, stroking her skin gently. Wanda frowned, raising her tear-filled eyes to you.
"Do you think they are wrong?"
"Of course they are." You assure low. "You were never a bad person, and you certainly don't need anyone telling you who you should become next."
“B-but how can you be sure?” She asks unsurely, but you just smile, straightening to stand closer to her, placing your legs at her side.
"Because you're here, Wanda." You say putting your chin down on her knee. "When I think of you, I think of shy smiles and stolen touches between practices and studies. I think of that nose scrunch you do when you're concentrating or early morning confessions in my bed as you curl up in my body." You count sweetly, moving your hands to entwine with hers.
"I could never see you in any other way but the loveliest possible. They don't see that, and so they are just wrong about you." You say it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Wanda wants to cry. She sniffles softly only, looking at you and trying to believe what she is saying.
"I read your letters." She confesses then because she thinks changing the subject might help her. You smile shyly at this, and although your hands remain entwined, you look away from hers.
"I wasn't sure I wanted you to see them." You return almost embarrassed. "They were more free thoughts than anything."
"I wish you had sent them."
You raise your gaze to hers, biting back a smile. "Really?"
"Really." She assures.
"What would you have answered?"
"Well, first of all, I would have had a little meltdown." She jokes making you laugh. "But I would have said that I missed you, and then that I felt the same way."
"Even for the older ones?" You ask and Wanda smiles warmly, releasing one of her hands to touch your face.
"I fell in love with you the moment I saw you." She confesses in a whisper."So angry and brave, blowing up the bars off my cell."
You laughed softly, recalling the memory vividly. "I should have been more tactful." You say. "You and Pietro wouldn't have escaped if I didn't arrive breaking everything and looking like an enemy."
Wanda shakes her head softly. "Maybe, but there's no way of knowing. I'm just glad we're here today."
"Me too." You agree, and Wanda smiles, staring at you with adoration that you return. Soon, she asks if she can soap you up too, and you smile shyly as you agree, releasing your hands to grope the water for the lost soap.
"It fell somewhere in here." You mutter distractedly but find something else. Wanda gasps softly as her fingers rub against the entrance to her intimacy suddenly, and blushing heavily you pull your hand away. "Sorry."
"That was a bad plan, Y/N." She then declares, and you frown slightly, but all coherent thought slips from your mind as Wanda moves to sit against you. The water from the tub drenches the floor with the change, but you couldn't care less, feeling Wanda's breasts brush over yours, affected sighs escaping your lips. "Getting us naked in a tub after days of not seeing each other properly. It's almost as if you were planning something else..." She explained as she put her hands on your shoulders, her gaze dark and full of second intentions like the smile she was biting back. "But I guess you were, weren't you, detka? Well, don't get shy now."
"Oh, baby, are you sure?" You asked affectedly, sinking your face against her neck and tightening your hands around her waist, feeling Wanda's body burn like your own. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."
"Believe me, I really want to." She assures with an affected sigh, and guides your face back to hers, capturing your lips in an intense kiss until she bites her bottom lip and pulls, drawing out a soft moan. "Take care of me."
With a nod, you kiss her again, but slowly though just as passionately, sliding your tongue into hers with precision, your hands moving down to her thighs. Wanda moans softly as she instinctively presses against you, and with the lack of obstacles, can feel your thigh firm against her.
Your hands steady themselves on her thighs, beginning to guide her slow movements against you, and Wanda chokes on the kiss, whimpering at the delicious friction. You take the opportunity to rest your forehead on hers, your lips brushing as you ask, "It's good like this, isn't it, sweetheart?" You ask guiding her movements, Wanda nods quickly, closing her eyes tightly as she feels the tightness in her abdomen squeeze.
"P-please don't stop." She asks breathlessly, trying to increase the speed and you smile as you move your hands to allow her to do so. Wanda hugs you, the movements faster and more intense now, the new angle making her choke on moans as she digs her nails into your back. She feels so good, her breasts pressing against yours, her body fitting together as she rides your thigh, her warm wetness being easy to distinguish in the tub.
"You're close, baby. Don't hold back." You guide in her ear as you feel the way she is throbbing on top of you, and Wanda whimpers, trying to reach her height against your thigh. When her movements start to get out of rhythm, and her body wants to stop, you take the lead, steadying your hands on her waist and guiding her thrusts.
She comes a few thrusts later, arching her back on top of you, and then sinks back against your body, joining your mouths in a messy, breathless kiss.
"You did so well." You praise as you break the kiss that she can barely reciprocate, your lips trailing over her face and neck. "So pretty."
"That was incredible." She confesses after a moment, trying to normalize her breathing. She can't stop smiling, her face as warm as the rest of her body. "Can we do it again?" She asks against your lips as soon as you turn your face to hers, and you give a little chuckle, nodding.
"As many times as you want." You assure her, and Wanda bites her lips before kissing you deeply.
It takes many minutes for you to leave the tub. It is the best bath you have ever had because Wanda steals kisses and intimate touches the whole time, until you are finally out of the tub, helping each other dry with the towels.
You and Wanda stumble back into the bedroom next, the towels slipping halfway down as your lips meet in passionate kisses again.
Wanda falls onto the bed first, pulling you onto her in a hurry, complaining about every second that she can't feel your body against hers. You melt into the kiss, sinking your bodies into each other without parting your mouths. Wanda can feel how ready she is to continue, a wave of heat in her lower abdomen that only tightens with the small friction of your thigh and the feel of your tongue on hers.
"Detka, please." She finds herself almost begging, her hands pushing you down and you give a small giggle against her lips, breaking the kiss to move down to her neck, applying a pressure that makes Wanda gasp in moans.
"So impatient." You comment as you feel Wanda's fingers pushing your head down again, the gentle tugging on your hair causing you to feel a delightful tug in your belly.
"Please." She asks again and you murmur in agreement, making your way down. Your mouth finds the valley of her breasts, and you take your fingers to her nipples, causing Wanda to arch her back on the bed. "Oh." She moans as she feels you stimulate them, and you continue to lower your face. When you find her wet intimacy, you grunt against her skin, being able to smell her and see her state clearly.
Your mouth advances against her the next second, and Wanda moans loudly, overwhelmed with so many sensations, your tongue teasing her folds and clit, spreading her wetness and hungrily devouring her, while your fingers stimulate and squeeze her breasts. She whimpers helplessly, feeling like she is going to burst with pleasure at any moment.
When she comes, screaming your name to the ceiling as she spills herself into your mouth, you don't stop, your tongue drawing patterns on her swollen, overstimulated clit as you fuck her slowly.
Wanda whimpers, looking down and meets your dark gaze, "Too much, baby..." She gasps breathlessly, her fingers weak in your hair, but you just move your hands down from her breasts to firm on her thighs, opening her up better for you without stopping your movements. And soon, you are getting a third orgasm from her, just as intense as the other two, the image of the girl twitching makes you vibrate against her, on the edge of your own climax with just the sounds.
When you climb back up, lying against Wanda as she recovers, you kiss her cheek and entwine your bodies together, kissing her cheek as she tries to normalize her breathing.
She moves after a moment, her fingers tracing drawings on your belly before she rests her chin on your chest to look at you. "Can we stay here forever?" she asks in a whisper.
"Yes." You answer without hesitation, moving your hand up her back to her face, brushing her sweaty hair out of the way as you look at her fondly. Wanda smiled, moving closer to kiss your lips tenderly.
"That was really amazing, baby." She comments as soon as she pulls apart, her eyes kind of lazy. "Now let me return the favor." She asked, her hands coming down, and honestly, you weren't going to object.
A few hours later, Wanda fell asleep against your neck. And even though your legs were still ticking deliciously, you forced yourself to move, climbing out of bed with the intention of preparing something to eat.
After grabbing pieces of clothing along the way, you walked out into the kitchen and made your way to the refrigerator.
"Y/N, you're home, great." Steve's voice made you jump in fright slightly. You turned around - still with cookies and jam in hand - and went to the counter, closing the refrigerator with your foot.
"Need anything, cap?" you asked curiously and decided it would be better to stay silent when Steve ran his eyes over the purple marks Wanda had left on your neck.
"Yes, we've had progress with the operation to find Rumlow." He clarified. "It's our best lead in two years."
"Oh, that's great." You say quickly, your hands busy setting up the tray of food. "Do we have a location?"
"Lagos, Nigeria. We leave in three days." Steve declares and places a file folder on the counter in front of you. You hesitate, and Steve notices. "Look, Sam told me that you've been thinking about prioritizing your relationship with Wanda now, and I support that I really do. But can I ask this one last favor?"
You sigh and force a smile at Steve. "Don't worry, cap, it's our job, isn't it?"
"Thanks, Y/N." He says. "It means a lot to me."
You smile, nodding at her. When you are alone in the kitchen again, you let out a long sigh. Your gaze falls between the tray of food and the operation file. You remember the sleeping image of Wanda on the bed and feel your chest tighten with longing even though you saw her only a few minutes ago.
Tucking the file under your arm, you pick up the tray and make your way back to the room. In the end, you would have to learn to balance what was important in your life, work and Wanda. You just hoped she would never forget that she sure was more important than anything else.
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hallow-witxh · 3 years
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Ok so I've heard before that people can use witchcraft to work alongside their medications, I was wondering if you knew some tips on how to do that? If it's of any importance I wish to use this to on my antidepressants. Also I don't have many crystals and what I do I'm still working on identifying. Also something broom closet friendly. Please and thank you.
Also I really appreciate all the helpful tips I've seen on your blog they really help.
First of all, this is a really great question, and I love how you phrased it so politely. Thank you for not coming into my ask box and raging hell like so many others. If you don't mind, I'll be using your question as a post!
Witchcraft can be a helpful little friend when it comes to helping along medications and therapies, so let's talk about the safety aspect of it first. If you're planning on eating, drinking, or consuming any kind of herbal/magical/spell-like substance, ask your prescriber about what to avoid while taking medications. For example, I take Zoloft, and Zoloft shouldn't be taken with L-tryptophan supplements because it can cause issues. I also take Prazosin for nightmares, and shouldn't drink alcohol on it due to... you guessed it, various health concerns.
That being said, let's get down to business. My favorite way to incorporate witchcraft into my therapy/med routine are kitchen spells! I'll give you a few recipes, and then a list of ideas for you to research that don't involve cooking/recipes as well.
Apple Cider. Not only is it super effective, but it make your house smell amazing and they usually taste amazing too. Making Apple Cider is a great was to bring a warm, fuzzy feeling to yourself! It's super easy too: check out my Apple Cider post from yesterday (you can find it by searching Apple Magic or Apple Cider on my blog). Most of the herbs are very love and luck centered, so it's a great way to bring some self love into your home.
Strawberry self-love spell. This one is also one of my own, and it's super delicious and easy. It can be made into a number of things: drinks, cakes, oatmeal, etc. Here's the link to that post.
Herbal teas and drinks. Lots of common kitchen spices are great to help invoke self-love! Cloves, cinnamon, ginger, allspice, and nutmeg are all wholesome herbs and spices to incorporate into these drinks. One of my favorite self-love drinks is very easy to make: a cup of steaming hot milk/milk replacement, a decent shake of each spice, and a tablespoon or two of sugar with a splash of vanilla makes a delicious, warm drink that soothes the soul and invoked self-kindness.
Here are a few other ideas for you to dig into:
Incorporate herbs that invoke love, healing, and happiness into your food
Make lots of bottles of moon water and challenge yourself to drink one every day. Hydration AND a spiritual boost!
Add lemon to your water every morning to help increase your energy and focusing levels. Stir clockwise!
Create a small spell jar with love-invoking herbs and carry it with you or put it in your bag. I recommend not using wax to seal it if you do, though. Use a screw-cap jar if you need to.
Juniper and rosemary smoke cleanse! Juniper banishes negative energies and well as invites good energies. Rosemary also invoked wellness, healing, and good energies.
Frequently cleanse your space, juniper or not. An easy cleanse spray is sea salt mixed with moon water, then a very light spray around your space. Remember to sweep/mop or vacuum often when you use that, especially if you have pets!
Light pink or red candles to invoke self-love
I also want to say this again, so everyone say it with me: witchcraft doesn't replace therapy and medications. One more time, with gusto! Witchcraft doesn't replace therapy and medications!
Good job!
And that wraps up this post! Good luck y'all, stay safe and blessed be! :)
Tips and Commissions: Ko-Fi
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calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years
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Lover of Mine #5.5 | Angel Reyes.
Series Masterlist | join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird
title: For Better, or For Worse.
rating: 💙 💔
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As long as you're feeling the same, I'll follow you into the flames
sum: angel fears once it's out, his secret will be the final push you need to leave. instead of confessing, he sticks out the couple's retreat to give himself a few more days with you. he makes himself a promise: he'll tell you once you two return to santo padre. but a ghost from his past pushes angel's agenda forward a few days.
words: the standard for this series....long af (that's why I break it into sections so you know where to come back to when you take a break...but seriously, please take breaks on these long ass chapters)
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Ez Reyes is a smart man. There is no denying it. However, Ez never thought he would struggle to tie a tie.
He is currently outside of his father’s truck. Kneeling before his nephew, Ez concentrates as he works through the instructions he Youtube’d earlier. A usually chatty Jeyson has been silent. He slept the entire hour's drive to school. When his Uncle woke him, Jeyson shot Ez a glare that reminded him of you.
Jeyson was fine the entire weekend that you were gone, but the moment he woke up this Monday to find you had not returned his entire mood changed. He has fought Ez tooth and nail the entire morning.
Ez glances up from the tie to Jeyson. “Hey, you sure you wanna go to school today?”
“I have to go to school” Jeyson mumbles.
“Yeah, but sometimes it doesn’t hurt to take a break.” Ez offers Jeyson a smile. “If you’re not having a good day, it’s okay to stay home.”
“I don’t want to stay home with you.”
“That’s okay,” Ez chuckles. “What about Izzy?”
“I don’t want to stay home with her either.” Jeyson releases a huff before glancing down at his now fixed tie. He bends down to pick up his backpack. Slipping it onto his shoulder, Jeyson steps around his Uncle. “I want my mom to come home.”
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Tommy’s gaze remains on the sleeve of his blue Stockton uniform. His fingers tug at the loose string resting against his wrist. He ignores the smirk on his older brother’s face. The passing of time has muddled the bruises on Tommy’s skin. The mixture of black and yellow stood out on the parts of him he's allowed to remain visible. No matter how he sits, the pain in his ribs is inescapable. Sleep has fallen to the way-side, the inability to get comfortable meaning he only gets it once he’s passed out from exhaustion.
“You didn’t tell me she was hot. Now I know why you were sticking up for her the other day--”
“I didn’t notice. I’m more worried about her getting me out of here.”
“Uh-huh.” Leo’s eyes roll as he watches his brother’s eyes pass over the crowded visiting center. “I’m just saying—”
“What’d you find?” Tommy’s fingers massage his temple, the irritation in his voice amplified by his brother’s antics. Lack of sleep and around-the-clock oversight and antics from Rogers has cut his fuse short. “If you didn’t find anything, you could've saved yourself a trip up here—and I could be asleep.”
“She’s not married—unless she has a habit of leaving her rings at home.”
“What? On the table?”
Leo shakes his head. “No. A jewelry box in the bedroom.”
“What about the kid?” “He has to be about eight, or nine? Name’s Jeyson. You were right, he’s definitely Angel’s. Wish I could show you the picture. He couldn’t deny that kid if he tried.”
“Yeah.” Tommy nods impatiently, motioning for him to continue. “What else?”
“Kid goes to some boujee ass prep school up north. Gilman something? Embroidered blazers, ties, the whole nine. His mom’s paying a pretty penny too, apparently, it's the best in the state. He’s into the typical shit kids are into. Star Wars, Spider-Man. Plays the piano, apparently, he’s actually really fucking good. Awards and all. His mom’s got him pretty busy. A lot of after-school activities. Looks like she and Angel rotate transportation...She must not be around right now tho.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Apart from the fact you’re still not transported to a new unit?” Leo scoffs. “The kid was with someone else when I was scouting. A girl and a kid with a prospect patch.”
“Mayans?”
“Yeah.”
“Maybe his little brother...last I heard he was hemmed up here. Haven’t seen him around tho.”
“Maybe he got out?”
Tommy dismisses Leo’s suggestion. “Most cop killers don’t walk free. What else?”
“He’s not doing a good job of keeping his nephew safe. I talked to the kid.”
Tommy’s eyes open. “You did what?”
“He walked right off with me.” Leo quietly explains. He mistakes his brother’s silence as a cue to move forward with his story. “His uncle was so into his date he didn’t even notice the kid walk off with me--”
The sight of Tommy’s hand running down his face tapers the rest of Leo’s statement.
His voice comes out low, through his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell you to touch the kid.”
“I didn’t touch the kid,” Leo’s eyes rolled. “I got him a funnel cake—” “I don’t give a fuck—” the slamming of Tommy’s fist against the table brings the room to a brief silence. The eyes that he has attracted linger on Tommy as his glare nearly burns a hole through his brother. Rogers shrugs off the wall nearby. He takes a step of warning in Tommy’s direction. “—what you did, Leo—it was stupid.”
“How else was I supposed to get him to talk to me?”
Tommy’s response comes out slowly. Each passing word increases his irritation.
“You didn’t need him to talk to you because I didn’t ask you to talk to him. Buying him a funnel cake, or whatever the fuck your grand plan was allowed the kid to see your face. He can open up his mouth and ID you—”
“ID me,” Leo snorts, dismissing Tommy’s claim. “Relax, Tommy. He’s not a state witness, he’s a kid—“
“Yeah, and according to you and his 'boujee ass prep school,' he’s a smart ass fucking kid, Leo.” Tommy lets out a long sigh. “The last thing I need is the kid opening his mouth to his mom about some random guy approaching him.”
“Don’t worry, I played it cool. Told him I was a friend of his dad. Maybe, if you had told me exactly why I went there I wouldn’t—”
It was something Tommy had explained to his brother during their last visit. The less you know, the better.
“I already told you,” Tommy rubs at his temple, the sudden throbbing causing his jaw to clench. “I needed to double-check something.”
“And that’s what I did.” Leo sighs. “What I want to know is, why the fuck you called me all the way down here to check pictures in some house.”
Tommy studies his brother for a moment. He shifts forward, his elbows settling against the table.
“You wanna know why I didn’t tell you? You don’t think, Leo. I ask you to do one thing—one fucking thing—and you almost fuck it up. If I wanted you to think I wouldn’t have told you exactly what to do.” Leo’s jaw tightens as his brother continues. “You trying to think leads to you doing dumb shit like kidnapping her fucking son—”
“I didn’t kidnap him,” Leo mumbles.
Tommy’s fingers massage his clenched fist. “You’re lucky I can’t reach across this fucking table right now.”
Leo’s gaze drops from his brothers. The look that lies in Tommy’s eyes is one he’s seen before—at least not directed at him. It’s the look that accompanied the acts that earned Tommy his nickname. Leo’s gaze nervously shifts towards Rogers who is still watching Tommy from his post.
“What do you want with her? Thinking she’s gonna give you a shot? Criminal is her type, and she’s definitely yours.”
“It’s not her I need. It’s Angel.” Tommy starts, his jaw tightening as his gaze remains on Leo. “And if you want Angel, you need her.”
“If she’s as good as you say, what do you need Angel for? You’ve been talking about her like she might actually get you off.”
Leo steals a brave glance at his brother. He watches as Tommy looks up from his tattooed knuckles.
“No matter how hard you pray, people like me and you don't come out on the right side of the law. No matter how fucking good she is, she can't get me out of this. This shit is stacked too high against me." Tommy’s gaze shifts to the clock overhead. “Did you find the necklace?”
Leo nods as Tommy stands.
“Good, go ahead and do what I asked.” Tommy pauses, his voice lowering as his gaze meets his brothers. “Nothing else, Leonardo. The time I'm looking at right now, I’ll fucking kill you right here if you pull some shit like that again.”
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At some point Monday night, Angel abandoned his spot on the sofa to crawl into bed with you. His intention may have been to take one side of the bed, but to no surprise, he has failed.
You came to this revelation at two o’clock in the morning when you tried to roll over but found it to be impossible. You have been stuck on your back ever since. You attempted to fall back asleep but have not been able to.
Cheek pressed against your chest, arm wrapped around your waist, Angel hasn’t moved. He doesn’t move when your alarm goes off at 7:30 or when the knock comes on the door at 8:00.
The sleep Angel lost, the past two days over Tommy seems to have piled onto him. He only wakes when your fingers brush through his hair, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cheek.
“You have to get up and eat something.”
“I’m not hungry.” Angel mumbles. The sunlight peeking through the curtains prompts him to burrow his face against your neck. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah, I can tell,” you smile softly. “But, I’m hungry, and I can’t get our food with you laying on top of me.”
Your words are met with a huff before Angel rolls over. Resting on his back, he watches the fan spin as you get out of bed.
His first instinct is to check his phone. He pushes himself up, his body protesting with the sudden movement, once he realizes his cellphone is not where he left it.
“Where’s my phone?”
His palms pressed against his eyes as he pushes away the enticing thought of laying back down for a few more hours of sleep.
“It kept going off,” you look up from the plate in your hand. “Ezekiel kept texting you.”
“What did he want?”
Angel watches you shrug. “I don’t know. I put it in the drawer. I tried to wake you up, but you were literally dead.”
Angel releases a sigh of relief before reaching over to open the bedside drawer. Facedown, his phone has several notifications. He ignores the rest, focusing on those from his younger brother.
2:30 a.m. 📲 : You still up?
2:35 a.m. 📲 : Talked to Bishop. Found out what the shipment was
3:00 a.m. 📲 : Pretty sure I found something else
3:02 a.m. 📲 : Don’t know if this is the guy. If it is we might have a problem
3:03 a.m. 📲: Found this in the paper
3:04 a.m. 📲 : Check it out and call me back.
The last incoming message was a photo, the front page of the Daily Imperial Gazette. Angel scans the article as you climb back into bed. A few phrases stick as he reads, “Man charged in Santo Padre murder…” “Thomas Flores, 30, has been charged…” “...obtained representation from Lorente & Rothman…” “...Friday, Flores was denied bond…”
“I have to tell you something.”
Angel instinctively hits the power button on his phone. Glancing up, he realizes you haven’t even bothered to look up at him. Your focus is on the half-eaten croissant in your hand.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” you explain as you take another bite of your croissant. “The case Samuel gave me—the one Aiden is helping me with—it’s for this guy. His name’s Tommy Flores. He has some pretty...intense charges, so you’re probably going to hear people talking about it soon. We had court Friday, and the judge...he’s pretty tough. He denied any form of a bond, he didn’t even bother trying to set a ridiculously high one.”
You glance up to find Angel’s eyes on you. His unreadable expression causes your brow to furrow. You mistake the look in his eyes as uncertainty.
“I honestly don’t think it’s anything you have to worry about.” Offering him a smile, you lightly roll your eyes. “But I’m going to have to start working late when we get back, so I need to know that what happened Friday won’t happen again.”
You wait for Angel’s response, but it doesn’t come.
“If I take over morning drop-offs, can I count on you to pick Jeyson up after school?” You continue. “Or, do I have to ask Isabela to do it...Angel?”
Angel blinks as your fingers snap.
“Are you listening to me?” The irritation he finds as his focus shifts to you causes him to nod.
Angel nods a second time as he takes in the look of skepticism on your face.
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
“So, you’re good with picking Jeyson up from school?” You clarify. “Every day of the week?”
Angel unlocks his phone, nodding for the third time. “Yeah. I’ll pick him up.”
“And if you can’t,” you reach forward. You catch Angel's chin forcing him to look at you. “You call and let me know the moment you find out?”
Nodding, Angel drops his eyes the second your gaze meets his. “I gotta call Ez.”
Despite his admission, your hand doesn’t drop preventing him from getting up. For a moment, Angel thinks you’ll let it go. For once, you will ignore the feeling you get each time you notice a change in him. It is something no one else in his life can seem to do. It is something you’ve been able to do your entire life. It is something Angel wishes you couldn’t do.
“What’s wrong?”
Angel shakes his head as you release him. He keeps his eyes trained on the plate in your lap avoiding your gaze as your touch brushes through his hair. It's a habit. Angel knows the moment he meets your gaze he’ll tell you whatever is on his mind. It’s impossible not to do when he knows you can read him best that way. He picks up what’s left of your croissant and takes a bite.
You sit your plate aside before closing the distance between the two of you. Angel’s eyes lift to meet yours as you settle on his lap. The warmth of your palms finds his cheeks as you take his face in your hands.
“I’ve known you nearly my entire life, Angel. I know you don’t believe it, but I can tell when you’re lying to me. Just like I can tell when you’re upset and anxious. And when you’re going to annoy me.” The soft smile on your lips brings a weak one to his. “There’s no point in trying to act like I don’t. What’s wrong?”
“You were right about Friday night. I wasn’t with Samuel. I wasn’t even in Santo Padre.” Angel lets out a deep breath. His voice low as your fingers toys with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Ez and I were in Mexico. I left when you were in court. I knew we weren’t going to make it back in time, but I didn’t want to have to tell you because I knew you’d be pissed.”
“What happened to your hand?”
He watches you lift it. Your finger traces the bandage.
“Cut it on a shovel.”
Your gaze lifts to find his focus on the path your finger traces.
“...okay.”
Angel shook his head. “It’s not okay—I fucked up. Forreal this time—“
"What? On Friday?” You let out a deep breath. “Angel, I know I freaked out. Missing the recital—yeah, it was fucked up—but it is not the worse thing you’ve done.”
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve that.” Your eyes watch him release a tired laugh, his gaze down. "You defend me, even when you shouldn’t.”
It is true. Defending Angel has been second nature your entire life. Often you do it in response to others. But also in response to him. When you were teenagers, you learned a valuable lesson about him. Angel is his worst critic. He’ll talk himself down harsher than anyone, even those who hate him.
“It’s because I love you.” Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him into a hug. “Just because we fight and say stupid things to each other doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, Angel. If I haven’t been able to stop doing that our entire time together, I don’t know why you think a fight in a therapy session is going to be the final straw. Me not talking to you is just the easiest way for me not to say something I’ll regret later.”
Angel’s grip tightens around you as your lips press against his skin.
“At this point, there isn’t anything you can do or say that’s going to make me stop loving you.” The reassurance in your voice lifts his gaze to yours. “Okay?”
Your lips press against his in a soft kiss. You leave a second against his forehead before getting up.
“I have to take a shower,” you announce as Angel’s arm wraps around your waist guiding your body back towards his. Your fingers drift into his hair as his head rests against you. “There’s more food you should eat before we go out.”
The two of you stay that way for nearly a minute. Angel releases you as the sound of your ringing phone fills the air.
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Silence from Angel Reyes is a bad sign. Such a rarity, it wrings your stomach into knots. It has been hours since you woke to find him sleeping against you. Angel has said just as little as he did in the morning. When you stepped out of the shower, you found him fully dressed and brushing his teeth.
You glance over your shoulder to find he’s standing where you last left him. Arms crossed over his chest Angel rests against the wall as far from the line as possible. With his sunglasses on, you can’t tell where he’s looking. The corner of his lips turns up into a small smile as you come to a stop before him.
“Who knew smoothies took forever to make,” he sighs as your arms wrap around his waist.
Resting your cheek against Angel's chest, you tighten your grip. You listen to the steady rhythm of his heart as his lips press against your hair.
“I want you to come somewhere with me tonight.”
“No,” Angel chuckles. You tip your head back, pouting as his gaze drops to yours.
He shakes his head as your weight shifts to your toes.
“Please,” you ask, your lips pressing a kiss against his.
“Last time I did that, you ripped me to shreds,” he laughs. “I haven’t even had time to recover from that.”
“It’ll be fun,” you promise. The second kiss you leave morphs Angel's smile into a grin. You leave a third, this one against his cheek. “I promise.”
Angel releases a long breath as you take a step back, a grin on your face.
“It better be,” he shakes his head as you quickly press a final kiss against his lips before turning to retrieve your order.
As you reach the corner, your cell phone vibrates in your back pocket. You don’t bother checking who it is. Aiden has called you three times. You had sent him a text message in response to his first three calls. Telling him to ask Isabela for help on whatever he needed.
The moment the call goes to voicemail, the vibration picks back up.
You force yourself to take a breath as Angel leads you outside.
“Hi, Aiden--”
“I know this week is supposed to be for you and Angel,” Aiden's voice comes out in a rushed whisper. “But, I need your help.”
“Where are you?” You ask as you take a sip of your smoothie. “And, why are you whispering?”
“I’m at the courthouse,” Aiden sighs. “I’ve been here all morning, and they’re giving me the run-around.”
“About what?”
“The Warden called the office this morning. You weren’t there, so I answered your desk phone. He didn’t give me many details, just that Flores was detained last night. They couldn't get him to say anything—to no surprise—but one of the guards said he was involved in an altercation with another inmate. Apparently, Tommy messed him up pretty bad—like...transported to the local hospital bad.”
Angel glances over at you as you slip out of his grip. You take a seat at the table he stops alongside.
In the short time, you’ve worked with Aiden, you’ve learned one thing. The moment he thinks there is something to panic about, Aiden will panic. So, if you sound stressed it kicks off his panicking.
Resting your face in your hand, you speak quietly. “So, he wasn't transferred on Friday as I'd requested? If he was he couldn't have gotten in a fight.”
“I know. Apparently this isn't the first one he's been in. The Warden said he looks like he’s been roughed up in the past few days. I’ve been here since first thing this morning—”
“Let me guess.” You rest back against your seat. “They told you there’s nothing they can do, with the prison being at full capacity they don’t have a cell for him?”
A brief silence falls over the receiver. Aiden’s brow furrows.
“Yeah—how'd you know?”
“That’s because it’s bullshit,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Judge Miller was hoping you’d leave and not press the issue.”
“Shit,” Aiden mumbles. “Shit, should I call Samuel—”
“God no. Aiden, I’ll tell you what to do, and say, just relax.”
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“I lied to you.”
Angel glances down at you as your lips press against his knuckles. “About what?”
“About wanting to wait to get married.”
Your admission leaves Angel quiet. He opens his mouth to speak, but it closes as you place a second kiss against his skin.
You tilt your head back to find his eyes focused on the water.
“I was talking to Izzy the other day—not about getting married—but about you and...I mean...we’re trying to have another kid.” You backtrack as his gaze drifts to you. “That’s not the only reason, but I don’t want to spend another seven years playing house with you, Angel. I have tried so hard to find reasons why we should just leave each other in the past, but it’s impossible. I can’t help thinking that we’ve wasted so much time trying to fight it we should just get married.”
If he is excited by your words, Angel doesn’t show it. If he’s anxious by your words Angel doesn’t show it. The only response he gives is the furrowing of his brow as his pace slows before coming to a complete stop.
“I thought you’d be...a little happier,” you admit. The butterflies in your stomach seem to double in size as Angel's gaze focuses on your interlaced fingers.
“Right now?” Angel gently squeezes your hand, the smile slowly spreading across his lips causing you to shake your head. “A fancy place like this I’m pretty sure we could find someone to do it tonight.”
“Preferably with your son there,” you giggle as his lips press against your forehead.
“Just so you know,” Angel mumbles as he leaves a kiss against your lips. “You can’t take it back.”
“It’d be pointless,” you admit, your eyes focused on the incoming tide. “Regardless of what I say, you’re impossible to escape.”
“Like you said, it must be fate,” he teases as you step back towards the security of the shore.
“I didn’t say fate. I said I was tired of trying to outrun you.”
Angel’s eyes roll. “Okay.”
Pushing against his chest, you cause him to stumble backward making it impossible for him to avoid the incoming tide.
“Fuck—”
Angel’s scream is drowned out by the sound of your laughter. He tries to escape the chilled water but realizes it’s pointless as a second wave rolls through.
“Is it cold?” You ask the grin on your face prompting him to take a step in your direction. “Because it looked like it was cold.” The look on his face causes your laughter to return.
“You’re about to find out how cold it is.” The promise in his voice causes you to take a step back.
You catch sight of Angel’s smile before you take off running.
Between the giggles that leave you breathless and the sand between your feet, you don’t get very far before Angel’s arms wrap around you.
“I’m sorry, okay. Let me go, please?” Angel’s grip loosens as you turn to face him. “I really am sorry.”
A gasp escapes your lips as your feet leave the ground. Blood rushes to your head as Angel tosses you over your shoulder. It only takes a second for you to realize he’s turned and is carrying you back towards the water.
“Angel Ignacio Reyes put me down now!”
“Be careful what you wish for, baby girl,” Angel chuckles as he carries you into the water.
It doesn’t matter that you’re both fully clothed Angel carries you out until the water is waist-deep. He comes to a stop. Shifting you in his arms, he grins as your arms instantly wrap around his neck.
“You think this is far enough?” He asks as you take in your surroundings.
“I hate you,” you giggle as you meet his playful gaze.
“I could go further out,” he takes a step forward.
“Just do it.”
Judging by the mischievous grin on his lips, you expect him to drop you in. For whatever reason, Angel spares you a dunking. Instead, he carefully lowers you to your feet.
The chill of the water causes your grip to tighten around him. He waits until you’re standing to let go of you.
You can’t suppress the smile that finds your lips as he kisses you.
“You’re lucky you buttered me up beforehand,” he chuckles as you step around him.
He follows you back to shore watching as you glance down the beach, back towards the lights of the hotel. Your pace slows as you start in the direction of the hotel.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Despite the nod of reassurance, you force yourself to take another breath. You shake your head slightly, a tiny smile finding your lips. It takes a third breath for the feeling to pass. “I just—got lightheaded for a second.”
“Uh-huh. Funny how you get ‘lightheaded’ the second I take my shirt off. I don’t know why you still try and play this game at this point.”
Your eyes open in time to allow you the moment you need to react. Catching the shirt tossed your way, you watch Angel unzip his jeans.
"Angel put your shirt back on–I’m serious.” The warning in your voice stretches the smile on Angel’s lips. Your eyes leave him, long enough to drift back to the glow of the hotel’s lanterns still visible. The laughter and music cause you to step in his direction. “You are not getting naked on the beach! Are you trying to get us kicked out of here—”
“I wasn’t planning on going in naked,” Angel laughs. It is an admission of truth, but the sight of your panicked gaze causes a mischievous grin to take over his features. “But, I’m down to if you are—“
“No—"
“You know what?” Angel nods as he tugs his foot out of his jeans. “Your plan is better.”
“Angel—“
There’s no point throwing in a protest. Angel has fully stripped down to his briefs.
You step forward as he moves to push them down.
“I am serious, Angel. Do not do it.”
He rolls his neck before letting out a loud, and exaggerated, “fine.”
“But the only way that’s coming back on,” he nods towards the shirt in your hands before taking a step back. “You gotta join me.”
“I’m not doing this.”
Angel shoots you a look of skepticism as he takes another step towards the water.
“You’re already wet,” he chuckles. “Might as well get in.”
You remain where you are as Angel turns and makes his way into the water.
He waits until he’s waist-deep to start swimming out. He disappears out of sight as you drop his shirt to the ground. Stepping out of your flip-flops, you roll your eyes as you watch him resurface under the moonlight.
“Hurry up!” Even with the distance between the two of you, you can see Angel’s grin in your mind perfectly.
Despite your initial protest, you stay in the water for nearly an hour. Angel stands alongside you. His right-hand rests against your spine, his left interlaced with yours as your float. He watches you, his eyes admiring the moonlight against your skin as you focus on the stars above.
“I can’t remember the last time I looked at these,” you admit.
He smiles as your eyes drift shut. “Mom used to freak every time she caught us sneaking onto the roof to look at them.”
“That’s because you fell off one time. Nearly gave her a heart attack.”
“Wouldn’t have been the first time.”
You bite back a smile as Angel’s lips lightly brush against yours. They drift to the bridge of your nose as you release a soft giggle.
“Speaking of mom’s, yours came by last week.” Angel watches as the smile on your face slowly fades. “You were at work. I was taking Jeyson to school. She said she’s been calling you.”
“I wouldn’t know,” you admit. “She’s blocked.”
“I was thinking...since we’re heading back a day early, we should stop by your mom’s on the way back–”
“No.”
Angel releases a deep breath. He wasn’t naive to think you would jump at the idea. But, since seeing her, Angel couldn’t get the thought out of his mind.
“I know ya’ll don’t get along, but my mom’s not here to see Jeyson grow up. I think he should be able to know the grandparents he has left.”
“I get that, but I’m not doing it.”
Your eyes remain closed as you concentrate on the waves gently pushing against your skin.
Angel doesn’t say anything else on the subject. He knows your response will stay the same. It has for the past nine years. He also doesn’t say anything else because he knows he’s the reason you won’t budge.
The hatred your mother has for Angel may be misplaced, but she is too stubborn to admit it. She has always blamed Angel for many of your actions, starting when you were kids. Anytime you didn’t go through with what she had planned for you, Angel was to blame. You missed curfew in high school Angel was to blame. You skipped school on your birthday Angel was to blame. You didn’t attend the college she spent her entire life preparing you for Angel was to blame. You got pregnant out of wedlock Angel was to blame.
It had all came to a head at your baby shower. Angel wasn’t there, but it was the first time he’d ever seen his mother truly angry. Sure, Marisol had gotten mad at Angel countless times. But seeing how mad Marisol was as she recounted the fight she had witnessed between you and your mother, Angel was shocked.
He never asked what words were exchanged, and he didn’t have to. All he knew was that from that moment forward, everyone avoided the subject of your mother.
“I get what you’re saying, Angel,” you sigh. “But, if my mom truly wanted to get to know Jeyson she would apologize. I can’t bring our son around someone that has said the things she’s said about you. If she can say them about you, she can say them about him because Jeyson is your son.”
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“Shit, I really look as bad as I feel?”
The smile on Tommy’s face grows as you look up. The heat covering your skin seems to rise as you start to speak.
“No—” You wince. “I’m sorry for staring—it’s rude.”
“It’s all good,” Tommy chuckles as he watches your eyes leave his.
He watches as you bite your lip. Whatever is on your mind, you don’t share it. Instead, your eyes linger on the bruise beneath his right eye. You’ve seen enough damage on Angel to know how bad it must have looked a few days prior.
“Hey, relax.” Tommy shifts forward in his seat, the sound of his shackles dragging across the table causing your attention to refocus. He meets your gaze. “The Doc cleared me—gave me my two Advil and sent me back to my cell. I think it’s safe to say I’m not gonna die.”
Despite the smile on his face, your head still shakes.
“Yeah, but I still feel bad that it happened. I was supposed to double-check the clearance of your paperwork.”
“Trust me, it’s not your fault,” Tommy chuckles. He watches your eyes drop to his freshly bruised knuckles. “It’s mine. The funny thing about this place is, you always run into people from your past. My mom used to said I never knew when to stop talking. I might have said the wrong thing at the wrong time.”
You watch as Tommy’s eyes briefly drift over your shoulder to where Rogers sits in the corner. His smile returns as his gaze drifts back to you.
“So, I take it you had fun.” He notes your raised brow before backtracking. “The Warden said he called your office and your boyfriend answered, said you were out of town.”
Your eyes roll. “Hey, go easy on my boyfriend. He’s the one who went to the courthouse. From what I hear, he slammed Judge Miller hard because your paperwork has been approved.”
You take in Tommy’s skepticism. You slide the signed form across the table, allowing him a better view.
“Signed by the Warden as well,” you point out. “Thanks to Aiden as soon as we’re done here, you’re being moved out of the unit.”
“No shit?” Tommy chuckles. He nods in approval as he scans the form. “I’ll be sure to thank Aiden when I see him. Guess you were right. He’s got some balls after all...Look, I know I’m not the easiest client….so um….Thanks for pushing for this. Making sure everything was straight. Most people would’ve just left me where I was.”
“Yeah, well I can’t have you die before I get fully paid.”
The laugh Tommy releases brings a smile to your lips. He settles back against his chair as you pick up your pen.
"I need you to understand that this new assignment may not be your favorite," you explain. "You're being moved to a new unit, but I can't get you moved again. That means, you can't do anything else, Tommy. Do you understand me?"
Tommy nods. He looks up as your hand finds his.
"This," your lift his hand forcing him to take in his swollen knuckles. "The shit you pulled. You're lucky they didn't throw you in AdSeg. That's 23 hours in your cell. No phone calls, no visits. Nothing. The only reason they didn't throw you in there is because they messed up, and didn't want Aiden to draw a motion against the judge. I don't care what you have to do, but you better learn to walk away from a fight. Now."
"I know." Tommy sighs as you let him go.
“Then do it. My job is already hard enough as it is. I can't have you trying to kill someone while you're already here for murder. Plus, the judge is pissed because of the paperwork Aiden had to file. That's not good for either of us. So, that means I need your help.”
His brow raises, the corners of his lips turning up into a smirk. “I thought I was supposed to be the one asking for help.”
“True, but help is a two-way street.”
Tommy hesitates for a moment. His eyes drop to his knuckles as he lets off a light shrug.
“What do you need?”
“For you to tell me why you were meeting with Alexander Maddox the night you were arrested.”
Tommy’s smile fades quicker than it came. His jaw tightens as he shakes his head.
You sit forward resting your elbows on the table.
“Tommy, if it’s about the MC.” Tommy’s eyes lift for a brief second. Long enough for you to catch a glimpse of the shock in his eyes. You lower your voice. “I know you’re with the Horsemen—”
Tommy shakes his head. “Look—I get you got a job to do, but—there’s just shit with the MC I can’t talk about—”
“I know how this stuff works—”
“Got a lot of personal experience with an MC?” Tommy asks.
His question causes you to release a deep breath.
“If you don’t want to tell me anything, fine. But when it comes down to it, Tommy. People will cut you off to save themselves.” The irritation in your voice lifts his gaze. “That shipment you were carrying, was not a dime bag. Your brothers will let you go down for this. Hard. They will let you rot in here for the rest of your fucking life if it means avoiding a R.I.C.O. case.”
Tommy’s brow furrows. “What’s a R.I.C.O.?”
His question throws you off. The pure confusion on his face causes you to backtrack.
“You seriously don’t know what that is?”
“I mean—I’ve heard of it...how do you know what it is?”
“It’s what you pay me for,” you remind him.
“Then I guess I’m paying you to explain it to me.”
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The moment you step outside of the elevator, you come face to face with a wide-eyed Isabela.
“Is your phone dead?” She asks the irritation in her voice causing your brow to arch.
“Off—I had a client meeting with Tommy. I thought I told you—”
Isabela ignores your response, her eyes focused in the direction of your office. “Yeah, whatever. I’ve been calling you for the last freaking hour—”
“Sorry—ow.” You wince as Isabela catches your arm. She pulls you to a stop. “What?”
She releases her grip, but she sidesteps. Blocking your path, Isabela places both hands on your shoulders. She ignores the look of confusion on your face, her gaze studying yours.
“How are you?”
Her question causes you to hesitate. “...Fine...why?”
Isabela takes another moment to study your eyes as if she doesn’t fully believe you before nodding.
“Just so you know,” she sighs as she takes a step back. “I did not let her in. Aiden did. He didn’t know any better—bless his heart—”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your mother.” Isabela winces at the look on your face. “She’s in your office. Promise me you won’t make a scene.”
“It’s never me you have to worry about,” you mumble.
When you enter your office, you find your mother is not where Aiden asked her to sit and wait for you.
She is standing behind your desk studying a photo that she holds in her hands.
“Put it back.”
She jumps at the sound of your voice, her body turning so that she faces you.
“Put it back, please.”
Her eyes return to the photo of Angel seated on his bike. A grinning Jeyson is seated in front of him, clinging to the handlebars.
“He looks so much like his father.”
You cross the room. Taking the photo, you place it back in its original resting place before dropping your purse onto your desk.
“What do you want?” You ask as you watch step around your desk.
“Is that a way to greet your mother?”
“According to the last time we spoke, I don’t have one.” You recollect as you take a seat. “It’s been...nearly nine years, so my memory might be a little hazy, but I’m pretty sure that’s what you told me.” Your brow furrows as she moves to take the seat across from you. “There’s no need for you to sit. This conversation won’t last long. I have a meeting in a few minutes. What do you want?”
Your mother’s jaw tightens as she remains standing. Her eyes roll as she speaks. “I take it he didn’t pass along my message.”
“He did pass along your message, actually,” you admit. “Believe it or not, Angel said I should call you and listen to what you had to say. I just chose to do what I’ve done for the past nine years—ignore it. If you’re not going to answer my question, mom, then you can leave.”
“Your father and I want to see our grandson—”
“No.”
She expects more, but your attention has already moved on to the papers you’ve dropped onto your desk.
“See, I told you the conversation wouldn’t last long.”
“Y/N,” your mother objects. “It’s been nearly nine years.”
Your fingers interlaced as you force yourself to take a deep breath. You surprise even yourself as your voice comes out quiet and calm.
“I told you before. I do not want you near my son, and I meant it. I don’t care what excuse you’ve come here to give today. I’m not changing my mind. Your only hope is to speak with his father, and hope he’s more forgiving than I am.”
Aiden stops in the doorway, his eyes widening as he reads the room. He takes a step back but pauses as you give him a warm smile.
“Hi, Aiden! Please tell me you haven’t eaten lunch yet.”
“No,” Aiden clears his throat. His eyes briefly pass to your mother whose gaze remains on you. “I haven’t.”
“Good. Can you order two of whatever you’re having? I’ll pay. We have to go ahead and look over this case.”
Aiden nods as you add, “great. Can you also escort my mother downstairs? She’s ready to leave.”
“I’m sorry for ruining your retreat.”
Aiden’s apology breaks your concentration.
Seated on the floor of your office, Aiden has his back pressed against your desk. His usually polished appearance is disheveled. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, the top buttons of his shirt undone. His tie and jacket are discarded on the back of your chair.
His apology is one he has been working himself up to share for the last three hours. Each time he thought of sharing it, he’s backed out. At this point, he’s run out of pointless conversation and has reached the bottom of your takeout container that he took over.
“What are you talking about?”
Aiden’s eyes remain on the chopsticks in his hand.
“Isabela told me not to call you about Tommy,” he clears his throat. He steals a glance in your direction. “She said it should wait until you got back—but as usual—I panicked and called you. Now you’re back early--”
“Aiden, you didn’t ruin my retreat,” you sigh. Your palms rub against your tired eyes. “It was rocky was to begin with.”
The admission silences the office. Aiden nods before opening his mouth.
“So,” you smile as you lightly bump his shoulder with yours. “Please, don’t worry about it. Angel was probably happy you called so he could leave.”
Your gaze returns to the slow-paced printer. Upon learning you were coming home early, Aiden had sent you a text message.
📲: I have some stuff to show you about Tommy.
And by “some stuff” Aiden meant a board. He had stolen one of Samuel’s whiteboards from the conference room. The entire surface is covered in your notes and information from Tommy’s files.
“I can’t believe you did all this while I was gone,” you stare at the board. “Your girlfriend might think you’re spending too much time on me.”
Aiden’s smile is sheepish. “If I had one, I wouldn’t have had time to do this.”
“Well, remind me to find you one because this is amazing.” The tease causes Aiden’s smile to grow. “I’m serious, Aiden. I can’t believe you thought you couldn’t be any help.”
“I didn’t really do anything,” he shrugs, his gaze focused on the paper in his hand. “They’re all your notes, I just organized them.”
His eyes widen, a grin finding his lips as your arms wrap around his neck.
“Call it whatever you want,” you smile. “But I still get to say thank you.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he rubs the back of his neck before glancing over at you. “We’re a team….speaking of...I found this.”
The picture he lifts is not new. It is one you’ve seen before. Your brow furrows as you take in the pregnant woman on display.
“I already know who that is,” you admit. “It’s the girlfriend of—”
“Alexander Maddox.” Aiden nods. “Right. I kept going back to your notes. You had one question. Why was Tommy meeting with Maddox in the first place?”
Your head shakes the confusion on your face prompting the rolling of Aiden’s eyes.
“How is this the answer?”
“You were asking the wrong question.” A mischievous grin slides onto his face as Aiden realizes you’re still not following his train of thought. “I can’t believe I figured something out before you—”
“Oh my goodness, Aiden—”
“When he was arrested, Tommy was carrying a shipment--”
“Yeah, something he shouldn’t have been doing by himself.”
Aiden’s brow arches. “You got a history of drug trafficking I don’t know about?”
“You’d be surprised what you pick up on this job.”
Aiden shakes his head as you motion for him to continue.
“While I was working, I kept thinking back to our conversation at the courthouse,” Aiden continues. “You said Tommy’s smart—"
“He uses people to get what he wants.”
“Exactly,” Aiden grins. He lifts the picture in his hand. “Why would Maddox meet up with someone from a rival club, in the middle of the night, with his pregnant girlfriend in tow if he was threatened by them?”
Aiden doesn’t bother answering the question. Instead, he waits for you to make the connection. The smile on his face remains as your eyes widen.
“Because he was there to make a deal.”
“Exactly!” Despite the smile on your face, Aiden’s face dampens. “...but that’s as far as I got. I don’t really know what made Tommy kill him—”
“Of course you do, Aiden.” Despite your reassurance and the confidence in your voice, Aiden’s expression hasn’t changed. “Your brain just needs a second to catch up. Maddox didn’t keep up his end of the deal. He probably tried to screw Tommy over. Not realizing that Tommy would kill him, girlfriend in tow.”
"Well, now we know why Tommy's been tight-lipped about that night. Probably doesn't want it to get out that he was skimming from the club's business."
The hug you give him brings the same response as before.
“I should help you out more often.” Aiden chuckles as you give him a squeeze.
“Careful,” you tease. “Angel’s not too fond of sharing.”
“Speaking of Angel…” Aiden’s gaze meets yours. “I know you asked me not to say anything to him about Samuel—”
“It’s okay.”
Aiden nods, but he continues. His rambling brings a soft smile to your lips.
“Yeah, but I just...I didn’t want you to think I was okay with what Samuel did.” His words come out quietly as he shakes his head. “The way he talked to you...it wasn’t right. You work harder than anyone here—including him—and for Samuel to do that was fucked up. I didn’t say anything in the meeting, and I should have. So, I just...I told Angel when he asked about it.”
“He would have found out eventually,” you laugh softly. “Besides, now Angel likes you.”
“For real?” The smile on Aiden’s face stretches into a grin as you nod.
A silence falls over the office as Aiden’s head rests against the desk. His brow furrows as your eyes fall to your hands. There is a final question on his mind. One he’s tried to find a way to raise since he started flipping through your notes on Saturday morning.
“Are you pregnant?”
The question lifts your gaze.
Aiden reaches into the pocket of his shirt. Your eyes widen as you take in the white card he produces. It is a card you spent the entire morning trying to find. The scheduled appointment one you have yet to share with Angel.
“It was in the notebook you turned over for me and Samuel to review,” Aiden explains as he passes the card over. “Don’t worry. I saw it before he did...I figured he was the last person you wanted to know.”
Your eyes focus on the date. A week and a half away. The initial scheduling may have been premature, but you couldn’t shake the feeling Angel was right.
“Uh...no—I mean, it’s too early to tell.” You turn the card over before looking up. “I should know by this date, so can you not tell anyone about this? I haven’t even told Izzy...or Angel for that matter. I don’t want to say anything until I’m a hundred percent sure.”
Aiden nods, a soft smile on his lips. “Of course.”
“Thanks.” You allow your head to rest back against the desk. “I don’t want to get Angel’s hopes up too early.”
It was the only thought you’ve had from the moment you woke up alongside Angel that moment. But as you glance back at the card in your hand, you know the truth has nothing to do with Angel. It’s not his hopes that you’re afraid of letting down.
You place the card aside, pulling your knees to your chest. Your gaze drifts to the board before you. The two of you sit in silence, eyes focused on your work. Silently willing your brains to come up with one more revelation before packing it up for the night.
"Alright," Aiden huffs. "I think we've gotten as far as we can get tonight."
HIs brow furrows, a chuckle filling the air as he fingers brush against your arm.
"Didn't take you for a tattoo person."
You glance over at him, following his gaze to the ink on your arm.
"Yeah, well, you've never been dragged to a tattoo parlor with Angel," you laugh. "Now, I try to avoid them at all cost."
"It's pretty cool," he grins, his eyes lingering on the design. "He has one too? Matching?"
"Yep," your eyes roll lightly. "Please don't tease me about teenage decisions."
"I won't," he chuckles. Aiden sits forward, lightly patting your leg before moving to collect the trash.
“Aiden?”
“Huh?” He glances up from the takeout containers in his hands.
“How long was he in Chino?”
“Tommy...uh, hold on.” Balancing the containers in his left, Aiden quickly rifles through the stacks of papers spread across the floor before him. “Says here...he was in Chino for....30 months.”
“Any way we can figure out where he was housed?”
“I don’t know,” Aiden admits as his eyes scan the wrap sheet. “His charges were nothing compared to now. Petty crime, so he wasn’t housed at maximum. Why?”
Once his question is met with silence, Aiden glances over his shoulder at you.
“What’s wrong?” The concern in his eyes slowly morphs to fear as he takes in your expression. “Did I miss something?”
“No, I did.”
“What do you mean?”
Before he can pose the question, you’re already pushing yourself to your feet.
“Go home, okay? It’s getting late—don’t worry about the mess. I’ll clean it up in the morning.”
Although you’ve managed to mask your expression, the trembling of your hands causes Aiden’s brow to furrow.
“You sure?” He objects. He quickly stands, stopping you from grabbing your keys from your desk. “I can send an email about his placement in Chino—”
“No.” Your response comes out more panicked than you want. You quickly backtrack. The reassuring smile you give Aiden not holding the weight it’s meant to. “I’ll do it in the morning. I have to go see Angel.”
“Okay.” Aiden nods. He passes over the sheet watching as you excuse yourself.
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Jeyson Reyes sits at the table in the center of the clubhouse, his math homework abandoned. His attention is devoted to the bowl of skittles in front of him. He has spent that past minute carefully picking out his least favorite skittles—the yellow.
“Word on the street is you got a birthday coming up,” Angel accepts another yellow skittle before popping it in his mouth. Jeyson’s eyes widen as he briefly pauses the task at hand. Angel’s brow furrows as his eyes study his son’s face. “How old are you turning again? Five—”
“Nine!”
“Nine? Nah--that can’t be right.” Angel shakes his head as he takes in Jeyson’s broad grin. “I don’t believe you—”
“Uh-huh,” Jeyson nods, dropping another skittle into his father’s palm. “I turn nine in seventeen days.”
“Shit—”
“That’s another dollar in the swear jar,” Jeyson reminds him as he passes Angel another skittle.
“I know,” Angel chuckles. He rests back against his seat, his eyes lingering on your son as he quietly admits. “I can’t believe you’re that old.”
Jeyson’s nose scrunches. “I’m not old.”
“Yeah, you are,” Angel laughs, his hand brushing against Jeyson’s hair. “You’re almost an adult.”
“I’m still a kid,” Jeyson giggles as his eyes lift to meet his father’s. “You’re old—”
“Hey—I am not old,” Angel retorts, the feigned look of offense causing your son’s giggles to increase.
Jeyson reaches over pointing towards the beard Angel’s hand passes over. “You have gray hair—lots of it.”
His father’s gaze narrows as Jeyson’s grin stretches as far as his cheeks will allow. As if to soften the blow, Jeyson drops two more skittles into Angel’s palm before eating one of his own.
Angel’s smile remains as he watches Jeyson redirect his attention back to the bowl of skittles on the table.
“Have you thought about what you want for your birthday?"
Jeyson shrugs. “Not really.”
“Not really?” Angel’s brow raises. “You’re counting down to your birthday, but you don’t know what you want?”
Jeyson lets off a second shrug, his concentration on the skittles causing Angel’s brow to furrow.
“You know we’re gonna end up getting whatever it is you want,” Angel smiles as he ruffles Jeyson’s hair. “You’ve been doing everything you’re supposed to in school.”
Despite Angel’s words, Jeyson’s gaze remains down. He chews on the inside of his cheek. The action causes his father to slide the bowl of skittles aside.
“What’s up? You don't think you can get what you want?”
Nearly a minute passes before Jeyson answers Angel’s question. His voice comes out quietly.
“I want you to stay at home.”
Angel’s brow furrows. The response is not what he’s anticipating. “I am staying at home.”
“My home, not yours.” Jeyson clarifies. “Where mom and I live.”
“That is where I’m staying.”
“You didn’t Friday. Is it because you don’t like living with us?” He asks quietly
Angel’s eyes drift shut, the tightening of his throat causing him to shake his head.
“Your mom and I—” Angel’s voice trails off as Jeyson looks up from the table to meet his gaze.
It is a conversation neither of them has breached before. One Jeyson has found himself thinking about more and more. One Angel knew he would eventually have with his son, but he hadn’t anticipated it to be now. He had also hoped you would be around to help him.
“You having two homes has nothing to do with me not wanting to live with you—or your mom. You don’t remember it, you were too little, but your mom and I...we used to fight a lot.” Angel continues. “I wasn’t nice to her, and I made her cry a lot. So I had to leave. I didn’t want to leave you or her, but I also didn’t want to hurt you or your mom. It took me a while to learn how not to do that. Friday...I couldn’t come home because I didn’t want to fight with your mom.”
“You still made her cry.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.” Leaning over, Angel brushes his hand against Jeyson’s hair. His touch forces Jeyson’s eyes to meet his. “You know how you and your friends get mad at each other? Sometimes we get mad at the people we love because we don’t see things the same way. But your mom being mad at me has nothing to do with you. Okay? Just because your mom and I might fight, it doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”
The soft smile Angel offers him prompts Jeyson to give him one in return.
“It doesn’t matter if I’m staying with you and your mom or at my house. I love you. That’s not ever gonna change. Never has, never will. Got it?”
Jeyson nods, his smile growing as Angel places a kiss against his skin.
As Jeyson's attention returns to the bowl of skittles, Angel reaches into his kutte. He pulls out the white envelope that he found in the mailbox upon your return home.
He studies the unfamiliar handwriting. Printed in block letters are his name and your address. His gaze passes over the generic American Flag stamp and date pressed into the right corner. The lack of a return address causes him to flip the envelope over.
Angel waits until he comes to a stop outside of the clubhouse to give the envelope a second glance. Tearing the side, he reaches inside pulling out a single index card. The handwriting matches that printed on the envelope.
An anniversary gift for the Old Lady.
Angel tips the envelope. His stomach tightens as the chill of a silver chain hits his palm. The buzzing of his phone in his kutte pocket goes ignored. He doesn’t need to unravel the chain to know who the necklace belongs to. He has looked at the necklace nearly every day since he was eighteen.
The continued vibration of his phone forces an irritated “fuck” from Angel’s lip before he pulls his phone out of his pocket.
“What?”
“This is a prepaid call from Thomas Flores, an inmate at the state correctional facility. All phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring. To decline the call, please press nine. To accept the call and all charges that will be incurred, please press one.”
Angel doesn’t remember committing the act of acceptance. A moment later, Tommy’s voice echoes through his receiver. For a man locked inside the walls of Stockton, his voice is calm and lighthearted.
“Damn, it’s been a minute since I’ve heard your voice, Reyes. Can you believe I missed it?”
“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Angel growls, his grip tightening around his phone. “How’d you get this number?”
“Come on, Reyes--give me some credit. I got it the same way I got your address,” Tommy chuckles. “I had to make sure to wish you a happy anniversary. It just passed, right? What is it six—no—seven years? Hopefully, the two of you are doing better these days—”
“Why are you calling?”
“That’s the funny thing,” Tommy sighs, the smile on his face stretches into a grin. “See, I was in my cell a few weeks back, thinking to myself—got a lot of time for that nowadays—and naturally, that led to me thinking of you. And how I missed my old cellmate. Then I remembered...you owe me a favor.”
“A favor? I don’t owe you shit--”
“That’s not how this shit works. I think the person who’s owed a debt gets to decide when it’s paid in full.” Tommy pauses, the silence from Angel’s end allowing him to continue. “Funny thing, I wouldn’t have even thought to call on you for this, but you made a simple mistake all those years ago, Angel. You talked too much...If you don’t want someone to use your Achilles, you don’t share it.” Angel’s brow furrows as Tommy’s words slowly begin to sink in. “Now, you know I’m not a religious man, but I bet you can imagine how good I felt when I realized that God, himself, dropped Y/N into my lap. What are the odds that she and I got brought together? Huh? It’d be a shame to let this God-given opportunity go to waste, don’t you think?”
“What the fuck do you want, Tommy?”
“A lot of things,” Tommy admits. “A turn with your pretty wife for starters. The way you put it, she’d do just about anything for you--”
“She’s not doing anything for you--”
“That’s okay,” Tommy chuckles. “You’ve always had my back when it came down to the wire.”
Angel’s head shakes. “No—Fuck this—I’m hanging up. I told you that night. One and done—”
“I take it you got my gift,” Tommy ignores Angel’s declaration. “And...judging by the unnecessary hostility I’m sensing in your voice, you took a trip down South recently.”
“I want what you took—”
“And you can get it back—scout’s honor.” The sincerity in Tommy’s voice would fool a stranger, but not Angel. “After you help me out one last time. For old times sake.”
“I’m not helping you do shit.”
“Damn,” Tommy sighs. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.”
“And you’re gonna leave her alone. Come up with an excuse, I don’t care. You’re finding a new attorney—”
“No can do, Reyes. See, I don’t benefit by losing her.” Tommy explains. “Unless you wanna consider my proposal. Last time I’m offering. I think you’ll find my way is the easiest—for everybody involved.”
A silence falls over the line. The trembling of his hands tightening Angel’s grip on his cellphone.
“Alright, well, my time is almost up,” Tommy yawns. His eyes pass to the clock overhead. “Plus, I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I'll give you the night to mull it over. Tell your lady I said thanks for visiting me today.”
Angel’s continued silence brings a grin to Tommy’s face. His chuckle fills this receiver.
“You haven’t told her yet….Tell me, what do you think she’s gonna say when your secret gets out? Do you think she’s gonna stick around this time? If that shit gets out, you’ll be facing more than some 18-month stint in Chino, Reyes. You’ll be facing some real-time. Ask your baby brother how that shit sits with you. All it’ll take is some rumors about the location of a missing state’s witness to start swirling...evidence anonymously getting dropped into the hands of the right people...then you and I just might be sharing a cell again.”
“Trust me, you don’t want that shit to happen.”
“Maybe...maybe not...only time will tell.” Tommy sighs. The calmness of his voice is the opposite of the feeling causing Angel to force out an unsteady breath. “Do me a favor, check with your old lady on how to get on my visitation list. I think you owe me a visit, make the shit quick, Reyes. Maybe she can get them to expedite the paperwork. You got a job to do, and your clock is ticking, homie.”
There is no need for additional words to be exchanged. Tommy hangs up, leaving Angel standing at the end of the driveway. No matter how hard Angel tried to resist—or tried to appear that he was—Tommy knew the hook was set the moment the call began.
When you pull into the clubhouse lot, you find Angel standing at the base of the clubhouse steps.
His eyes meet yours as you park, but he makes no move to meet you. The question is out before you can step around the front of your car.
“Do you know Tommy Flores?”
Angel’s eyes may be on you, but his mind is somewhere else.
“What?”
“Thomas Flores. He was serving time in Chino. Longer than you—thirty months—but you were there the exact same time. Did you hear about him while you were there?” Your question is met with silence. Angel blinks. His brow furrows as he watches you cross the lot. “I know it’s a random question, but Angel it’s really important. Okay?”
It’s common for people to cross paths. Chino is not a prison. It’s smaller than Stockton. Inmates flood in and out like clockwork. That's what your mind can produce in the time it takes you to come to a stop before him.
But it’s the look in Angel’s eyes that tightens your stomach.
It’s a look you’ve only seen once in your life.
Nearly two years ago. A night you hadn't revisited in quite some time.
When Angel had shown up unannounced at your house. This was nothing new.
Only this time, the pounding on your front door had woken you, Jeyson, and nearly half the neighborhood.
Your initial assumption was that he was drunk—it wouldn’t have been the first time Angel had shown up after a few beers and a shitty hookup only to find his way back to you. Begging you to let him stay the night, swearing to plead his drunken case, only to pass out against you the moment you were seated on the sofa.
Only this time—the moment you’d gotten the door open you were crushed by his weight. Angel's grip had been tight. The pressure caused you to wince as his face burrowed against your skin.
For once, you couldn't detect alcohol--just sweat and dirt. His grip had tightened as you tried to move back and take a better look at him.
You didn't get much out of him that night. The most you could get him to do was shower. Which was for the best because, by the time you'd helped him dry off, Angel's adrenaline crashed. He’d passed out in your bed a minute later.
In the morning, he didn’t produce much of an explanation.
"Sorry if I scared you last night," he'd mumbled as he headed to the door. "I know you asked me not to show up—unannounced like that but—I just wanted to see you."
“Yeah,” Angel nods. “I knew him.”
You wait for elaboration, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Angel takes a step back. He finds a seat on the steps, his left hand reaching up to rub his eyes.
“Yeah, I knew him? What the hell does that mean? You knew of him, or you kn—”
“No, I knew—I know him.” Angel releases a sigh, his fist crumpling the envelope he holds. “He was my cellmate.”
“No, he wasn't.” The response is automatic. The laugh you release echoes across the parking lot. The meaning behind Angel’s silence doesn’t fully register. Your brain is still reeling, trying to find a rational explanation to deny his statement and what it means. You shake your head. “No, he wasn’t. That is not fucking possible—“
“Cellblock D. That’s where they house all gang-affiliated inmates. They don’t give a shit if you’re an MC or not. It’s all the same.” Angel quietly explains, his eyes watching the realization begin to sink into your features. “They put you together with guys from other places, knowing you might not have a brother to watch your back if you need protection. Tommy’s cellmate had recently been discharged. So, after intake, I took the open space—“
“Angel, stop. I can’t have you telling me this,” you cut him off. The sight of your widened eyes not deferring Angel’s train of thought. “Do you know what this means for my case? Why couldn’t you just lie to me—”
“Because what I need to tell you is worse.”
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