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#HE DREW EYEBROWS ON HIS ONESIE

kazemi-archive · 7 months

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Trick or Treat

PAIRING: Tsukishima Kei x Reader WC: ~1.4k GENRE: Fluff 𖤐 CW: established relationship, y’all have sperm trophies children, mentions of pregnancy

“No.” Kei repeated, not looking up from where he was fixing up his coffee. Despite it nearing the night, he claimed he’d ‘need it to get through the night.’

“C’mooon.” You chuckled, nudging him on the arm slightly. He fixed you with a small glare and you threw your hands up in surrender. “Don’t make me pull out the big guns.” You threatened him playfully, smile on the corner of your lips.

“You can’t convince me, you know that right?” He laughed slightly at your efforts, raising his eyebrows in amusement as he gave you a side glance.

You sighed dramatically, leaning against the counter next to him. “You give me no choice.” You cleared your throat slightly, “Boys!” Kei’s face seemed to pale, his eyes widening as he looked towards the stairs of your home where he could hear the commotion, two little sets of footsteps racing towards you both.

“Papa! Papa!” They tumbled into the kitchen quickly, your little six year old pausing to make sure his little brother didn’t trip on the tile when they slid in. They were already in a fit of giggles when they got to the both of you, little hands behind their backs.

Kei sighed slightly, sending you a tiny glare before he crouched down, trying his best to shrink his towering stature to their level. His face and voice both softened as he spoke to them. “Hey little buddies, what’s mama got you up to?”

“Please please pleeeeeaaase dress up with us papa!” Your six year old begged, eyes squeezing shut and teeth showing as he looked up at Kei. You had to stifle your giggle with the back of your hand. Kei’s head towards you and you (not very slyly) forced a cough and pointed your eyes towards the corner of the ceiling.

“Pwease papa!” Your four year old mimicked his older brother, big eyes looking up at Kei as he asked. “We got a costoome for yew an’ ewything!”

Kei stayed silent for a second before he sighed. “You already have a costume for me?” Both of your sons nodded enthusiastically up at their father and he smiled fondly down at them. “Alright, let’s see it then.”

The two boys quickly worked to pull the green fabric from behind their backs holding the fabric up in front of them with toothy (well mostly toothy) grins on their faces. “Its a Stegasowus!”

“Steg-o-saurus.” Your six year old quietly corrected and his little brother made a soft ‘oh’ noise before nodding in agreement.

Kei chuckled slightly, holding up the fuzzy fabric in front of him with skepticism. “A onesie?” He tossed you an unimpressed look over his shoulder and you gave him a guilty smile, nodding slightly towards him, encouraging him to respond to your kids. He turned back to your kids, resting the fabric on top of his knees before he reached forward to ruffle both of their hair. “Alright, alright. I’ll get dressed up with you boys.” The two boys shared a fit of giggles, little ‘yes’s chiming from them. “You two go get your costumes on now so we can get going then. Mama will help you.”

You tucked your lips in as you pushed off the counter, trying to not smile as you moved up to where your husband was now standing. “Come on little ones, up you get!” You tapped their shoulders and they turned to rush up the stairs again, disappearing to their rooms. You moved to follow but were quickly caught by Tsukishima’s arm tugging on your waist.

You laughed softly as he bent his head to kiss your cheek. “You fight dirty Mrs. Tsukishima.” He teased and you smiled up at him innocently.

“Drastic measures had to be taken Mr. Tsukishima.” You kissed his cheek in response and turned wiggled out of his grasp, following after your sons.

The giggles of your sons drew your husband to the entryway as he finished pulling up the comically designed hoodie of his dinosaur onesie-per your sons’ requests. You were shushing them with laughs of your own as he turned the corner towards you all. Your six year old immediately ran forward towards his dad.

“RAWR!” Your son yelled as he jumped towards his dad. Kei gasped in fake shock, catching his boy easily with a laugh. “Look! Look papa!” Your son pulled back slightly, adjusting the hat of his that you’d turned into a sort of dinosaur head that protruded out and up. “I’m triceratops horridus!”

Kei laughed at his son’s use of the full scientific name, his chest filling a little with pride as he set the boy back down. “Look at that, you are!” He tapped on the horns attached to your son’s hat and stifled his laugh as your son jerked back.

“Hey! You’re gonna hurt my horns!”

“Vewociwaptor!” Your younger son jumped forward, holding his hands up in makeshift claws towards his father and brother and they all broke out in laughs.

“And what about mama? What’s mama dressed up as?” Kei asked the question to your sons but his eyes were on you, eyebrows raised in judgment. From his view, you were clad in a pair of khaki shorts and a plain pink shirt. He was playfully glaring at your lack of a costume. “What? I gotta dress up but you don’t?” His hands found his hips as he watched you.

You laughed a little bit as you straightened up. “I’m the dinosaur wrangler, obviously.” You laughed, giving him a playful smile over your shoulder. You tapped the toes of your hiking boots against the ground a bit, working up the courage. You turned around towards him, focused on fidgeting with your sleeves, rolling them up.

“Ellie Sattler?” He laughed a little in disbelief, smile taking over his face, tongue toying with his bottom lip. “Isn’t her overshirt supposed to be unbuttoned and tied up?” He teased you, tilting his head in amusement.

“Riiight.” You chuckled nervously. “About that.” Kei’s eyebrows stitched together in confusion as he watched you reach for the buttons. Your sons’ clear excitement as they bounced on their toes only seemed to perplex him more. You shushed them jokingly as you reached the bottom of the buttons.

You let your overshirt fall open, revealing the t-shirt you had on under. A pale blue, in theme with your costume-with one small change. Printed on the stomach of the t-shirt was a small little dinosaur embryo.

“Surprise papa!” Your two boys jumped up and down as Kei’s eyes widened slowly in realization.

You chuckled at the frozen look on Kei’s face. “Thinking maybe it’ll be a tyrannosaurus this time?” You shrieked when he rushed forward suddenly, lifting you off the ground and spinning you as he laughed.

“Best Halloween ever.” He laughed, kissing your cheeks over and over as you laughed.

“Papa! Papa! Ew!” Your older son tugged on your husband’s costume, trying to get him to let you go.

“Mama says we might get a widdle sister!” Your youngest bounced on his toes as he looked up at you and Kei.

Kei laughed as he set you down, giving you one last kiss on the lips despite the complaints of your son. “Yeah, little buddy, you might.” You smiled down at them as you now properly tied up your pink overshirt, adjusting your costume. Kei’s eyes lingered on your frame for a second, smirking slightly before regrettably pulling his eyes away. “Come on my little dinosaurs,” Kei chuckled, corralling your boys towards the front door past you, “time to go get you both some candy. Gonna work extra hard for mama right? Get her and the newest little dinosaur some candy too.”

“Yeah!” Your boys chorused as they jumped out the door onto the front porch.

You laughed, stepping next to Kei and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Surprise, Kei.”

“You,” he trailed off with a soft laugh, shaking his head as he watched your kids jump their way down the steps, your older one holding the hand of your youngest. “Me and you are gonna celebrate properly later.”

You bit your lips with a smile as you watched him catch up to your boys on the path, your three dinosaurs and the one on the way.

#𓇻 fics

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princesachicana · 2 years

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𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 (𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

description: a little cute family reunion after chris was away for a little.

“Buenos dias baby” You exclaimed with a wide smile. Your 4 month old baby boy Roman squealing in happiness at the sight of your face. “Did you sleep so good?” You laughed running a hand through his bed head. Roman kicked his legs excitedly mumbling his baby talk. Picking him up from his crib you ticked his side. “Are you excited? guess who’s coming home today!” You carried him over to his changing table.

“We have lots to do today before daddy gets home.” You listed off all the plans for the day. And even though you knew your 4 month old couldn’t understand you still enjoyed speaking to him. After changing his diaper and wiping him down with a damp washcloth. You dress him in a new onesie you bought the week before online.

It was a fuzzy one that had Nemo’s face on the hood. Your favorite movie to watch as a family was Finding Nemo so it was fitting. “You look so cute bebe” You squished his cheeks making him giggle and fiddle with his hands. “He’s going to freak when he sees you!” You laughed taking a few pictures of Roman sending them to Chris.

“It’s so yummy right?” Roman’s face was covered in his breakfast. Oatmeal Peach Apple was one of his favorites.

After feeding Roman and cleaning up his face you started on your own breakfast.

You hadn’t worked up a big appetite for anything in particular so you went with something quick. Eggs and buttered toast with a side of chopped fruit from the day before.

“Okay ready to make a pretty picture for daddy!” You brought up a stool next to Roman’s high chair. “We’re gotta make a welcome home card okay?” You wiped his baby drool from his face. setting down a baby blue construction sheet of paper in front of him.

You started it off writing down the words ‘Welcome home!’ adding a little heart at the end with a marker. Roman couldn’t do much with a marker so you set out washable paint on another paper.

“Look at all these pretty colors!” You softly grabbed one of his hands showing him all the bright paints. His finger immediately dipped into the color purple. Roman was about to bring his finger towards his mouth before you quickly stopped him. “No look you paint here!” You drew a squiggly line with his finger. The color on the paper making him smile. His mouth formed an “ouuu” as if his art was the most impressive thing he’s done yet.

To distracted by the four month old beauty ,the sound of keys jingling and a door opening became background noise. Roman’s eyes widened, his chubby face forming a wide gummy smile. His eyes set dead behind you “what are you looking at mi amor?!”

Just as you were about to turn seeking out what your baby was so happy about, a set of strong arms engulfed you from behind.

Along with kisses to the side of your neck, immediately identifying it as your husband. “You aren’t supposed to be back until later que paso?!” You squealed excited and surprised all at the same time.

“I might have lied about what time I landed …the whole time I was planning on surprising you” After giving you one sentimental kiss, he pulled away moving towards his extremely impatient son. “WOAH mommy I think we got to distracted with our reunion!” you furrowed your eyebrows confused on what Chris was talking about. “Looks like little man…gave himself face paint.”

You looked towards where your baby and husband shared a warm embrace, and sure enough Roman’s face and brand new onesie covered in bright colors, looked like he really went to town with the paint. “BABY! not on your face” you laughed, moving towards the both of them, squeezing his chubby cheeks “we’re gonna have to put you in the bath.”

Chris sniffed his baby boys head like he was relishing in the baby scent he loves. “I’ll take him a bath, I’ve been craving my wife’s tostadas” You smirked “Oh really? Then I’ll just have to make some” You stood up on tip toes lightly scratching his beard, he relaxed into the touch, sighing when Roman’s hand followed yours now to playing with Chris’s beard. “I missed y’all so much.”

An hour later, you managed to whip up some Tostadas per your husbands request. You slowly balanced both plates on your hand, making way into the spacious living room.

You smiled when you noticed that all to familiar movie intro. “He was supposed to wear his outfit while we watched the movie!” You fake pouted as your sons eyes followed the fishes that swam on the screen. “It’s alright he’s got on his socks see!” Chris laughed picking up Roman, his little legs kicked begging to be let down again so he could watch his favorite movie.

You nodded, handing Chris his plate he moaned in delight “Baby I haven’t had anything like this in what feels like forever.” He quickly thanked you with a chaste kiss, immediately digging into his food. “Maybe we could come with you next time?” You whispered, not knowing how he would react.

“I do want to travel with him.” Chris looked to Roman who babbled off at the screen. “I can’t stay away from you both any longer…it feels like he’s grown so much since the two months I’ve been gone.” You sighed “He has, but you’re here now and that’s all that matters” You smiled, heart warming when Chris took his hand in yours lightly squeezing.

“Can we make some more little ones?” He whispered.

You giggled quietly “oh yeah, once this little one goes down for a nap.” you mumbled against his lips not exactly knowing if he was serious or not.

SPOILER ALERT: he was serious.

#chris evans x female reader #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans fluff #Chris evans #chris evans x reader #Chris evans smut #chris evans headcanon #Chris evans x Mexican!reader #Chris evans x hispanic!reader #cevans #x reader #dad!chris evans

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behrads-world · 1 year

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The Umbrella Academy x Reader

Agreeing to filming this reality TV show was one of the most ridiculous ideas you’ve ever been on board with.

“A bonding experience” Sloane had said when she brought it up. Backing it up with the notion that you were all family, despite what timeline you were from.

Viktor, bless his heart, was the first to fold. Always the sucker for keeping peace in the family. And after hours of persistent persuasion, got the tougher family members to go along with it.

You and Five both argued that nobody needs to be in your business anymore than they already are. You mostly because you were camera shy, rather than Five's reasoning.

In the end, ultimately everyone agrees, Allowing a camera crew into your shared home with a fair amount of enthusiasm.

Now, you all stand around a coffee machine, or what remains of the coffee machine. Various pieces of the item scattered along the counter top and the floor.

You could hear five grumbling behind you about finally getting a coffee machine only for it to be destroyed. You felt for the poor boy really. Coffee was more important to Five than, well Five was to Five.

Marcus, the sparrows number one, had called you all together, trying to solve the mystery as to who broke it and if you were being entirely honest, you were already over this self proclaimed “family meeting”.

“So who broke it, I’m not mad. I just want to know” True to his word, he didn’t seem angry, although he was more relaxed than a normal person would be if they discovered their coffee machine broken. If you paid money for something you’d be angry that it’s been destroyed.

Nobody answered, even Five had stopped his angry ranting to god knows who. Between the 14 of you, this was the quietest it’s ever been. Nobody wanted to step up, and you couldn’t blame them.

It’s three in the morning and a handful of people had already turned in for the night before being rudely interrupted, and even though some of the family were still awake you all stood in your pajamas.

You mentally snorted as your eyes flickered to Luther, who was wearing the owl onesie you gifted him for his birthday, a cheap present considering it was also yours and the other five siblings' birthday .It warmed your heart that he had kept it.

The ruckus also woke the camera crew, who you had so kindly let stay with y’all, prepped with cameras and lights, ready to capture the drama.

So, in order to save you all from this misery, you broke the silence. “I did, I broke it”, and you hoped the lie was convincing enough to let Marcus let go of it.

“No, No you didn’t, Jayme?” Well that didn’t work, you guess that Marcus caught onto the fact that you never drink coffee, or go nowhere near that machine. Either way, he looks to Jayme, questioning the droopy eyed girl.

“Don’t look at me, look at Alphonso”, She drew the attention away from her, giving her other brother a weak point of her index finger.

“What?I didn’t break it” He held his hands up in defense. Alphonso, unlike the others, looked more awake, probably from being accused.

Jayme, raised a suspicious eyebrow “Huh, that’s weird, how did you know that it was broken?” You facepalmed at the ridiculously obvious question.

“Because it’s right there in front of us and it’s broken” Viktor points out, confused as to why she would ask such a thing while you made a note to yourself to tease him about his bed head when this is all over.

“Very suspicious, if you ask me” Jayme says, to which Ben groans.

“This…” He gestures to everyone in the room, still including the camera crew. “Is ridiculous, can’t we just finish this in the morning?”

“No” You jump as Five exclaims from behind you. Out of everyone here you had thought Five would be the least interested.

Through your furious heartbeat, you looked at the boy in question, opening your mouth to speak to him.

“Why the hell do you care?” Allison spoke first, and your voice died in your throat. You closed your mouth, seeing no reason to continue looking like a fool.

The cube, Christopher, shook, its color changing indicates that he’s speaking. The only ones that can understand him are the sparrows so you're used to just ignoring him.

Fei agrees with what Christoper says, prompting Diego to lean toward you. “What the hell did he say?” Your only response being a shrug of your shoulders. He knows none of the umbrellas can understand the talking, floating cube but that doesn’t stop him from asking EVERY. SINGLE.TIME.

“If it matters, probably not, but Sloane was the last one to use it.” Fei says, no longer sporting her signature glasses, and the scars on her face are more apparent under the moonlight and lights from the cameras.

“Lair, I don’t even drink that crap.” You and her both, Maybe you both could advocate for a “coffee kills” fundraiser.

“Oh really? Then what were you doing by the coffee machine earlier?” Fei retaliated, crossing her arms.

“I use the wooden stirrers to push back my cuticles. Everyone knows that fei.”

“Goodie, another beauty guru, do you think you could help me? Cause my cuticles are jacked up” Klaus spoke up, his voice soft and filled with sleep.

Diego clamps a hand on Klaus’s shoulder, and you can’t tell if the action was meant to shut him up or comfort him. But it seemingly worked in doing both.

“Okay, let’s not fight please. I broke it. Let me pay for it Marcus” You try again, and you hear a chorus of “yeahs” and “let us sleep” from all around you.

Marcus wasn’t buying it. “No! Who broke it” He was so pressed about the situation while everybody else couldn’t care less.

“Marcus, Luther has been awfully quiet “ Fei accuses.

“ReAlLy”

—————————

“I broke it, I burned my hand so I punched it.” Marcus was being interviewed separately by the camera crew, sitting confidently cross legged on the couch. Proud of himself.

In the background he could faintly hear the rest of the siblings arguing, adding to his joy “I predict 10 minutes from now they'll be at each other's throats with warpaint on their faces and a pig head on a stick”

Marcus smiled. “Good, It was getting a little chummy around here.”

This was based on an incorrect quote I saw so I hope you enjoyed.

#five hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves #fei hargreeves #sloane hargreeves #sparrow academy #the umbrella academy #viktor x reader #klaus hargreeves #fanfictions #x reader #umbrella acedmy #tua season 3 #tua x you #tua x y/n #tua x reader

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kaizenkhaos · 3 months

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Harringrove Lovefest: Spaghetti and Meatballs

For the 13th, I decided to finally add to the Kids Rainbow Connections AU I started to write last year, inspired by @ratbastardbilly's amazing Rainbow Connection drawing. This time Steve is sad that Billy isn't allowed to come to his house for dinner. Well, if Billy can't come to the dinner, then the dinner will come to Billy ^^

"Come on sweetie….it's your favourite."

Steve looked down at his plate and sulked, arms firmly crossed. Bottom lip stuck out over his top one. A scowl on his face which drew his eyebrows into a tight 'V' shape. It was his favourite, his mom was right. But that wasn't why he was angry, or refusing to eat. It wasn't why he was sat here in silent protest. He was angry at Billy's parents. Billy was supposed to be here and he wasn't, because they wouldn't let him come. And now he didn't want the meatballs because he wasn't hungry.

"Eat your dinner Steve."

"Billy should be here."

His mom sighed and looked over at his dad who just shook his head in disappointment and continued to eat his food. No excuses, said his look to her. Their son was going to eat.

"No ice cream for you or Kermit if you don't eat your spaghetti. And two meatballs."

This was his dad being reasonable; there were four big meatballs on his plate. But it wasn't nice saying Kewmit couldn't have ice cream. He was being good. Steve hated it when his dad was mean to Kewmit too. He did that every time Steve did something he didn't like. It wasn't fair!

So Steve had no choice. He started on the meatballs first. Made with love by his mom as was the tasty tomato sauce which the spaghetti and meatballs sat in. Did Billy's mom make him things like this? Did she stand in the kitchen in an apron, looking out the window as she passed meat from hand to hand? Steve knew Billy really liked fish because he always chose fish fingers over anything else at school. But he knew little else about Billy's home life. He didn't talk about it. He clearly loved his mom a lot though and did talk about her a lot.

Two meatballs eaten and Steve had an idea! If Billy couldn't come here to eat the spaghetti, then…

"MOM!"

"Not with your mouth full!" his dad scolded, putting his knife and fork before and going to clean his son up, who had sprayed sauce down his chin. "Swallow then speak son."

"Yes Steve?" his mom said.

"Can I take Billy some spaghetti to school in my Kewmit box?"

She looked at his dad who just shrugged whilst straightening up Steve's tiger onesie hood and cleaning up the splatter from his son's face.

"Yes we can Steve! That's a wonderful idea."

She knew how upset he was about Billy, had seen his little face crease up in the car as he'd tried not to cry, He'd been good in front of Billy and his mom, made it look like it didn't bother him. But it did and later he'd cuddled into her as he'd sobbed about it. Billy had looked blank but Steve's mom wondered if he was just trying to put a face on like her son had.

She'd only sighed before because she knew how stubborn Steve could be and he hadn't been like this for a while. He'd been so good recently.

Steve smiled, a small clap as he looked over at Kermit, a plastic imitation of their meal in front of him on a small toy place. His dad was now back in his seat, happy that his son was back to clean and tidy.

"Leave some of that too please Kewmit. For Animal." When Monday came, Steve was excited. He ran to the car, Kewmit box bouncing against his leg as he jumped up to pull the door open. Climbing up and getting himself and Kerwit settled in their matching car seats. His mom smiled at her son's eagerness, locking up and putting her key in her bag. His son's happiness was infectious; she wished she could be there to see Billy's face at lunch when the two boys ate together. She'd packed him two sets of plastic knives and forks from his Muppets set and put the plastic food in a small box. This was all in Steve's little backpack and this is what he was now thinking about. Miss Summer let them sit on one of the blankets if they promised to not leave a mess. But spaghetti was messy, so they couldn't use the blanket, They could use the plastic table outside the playhouse instead. He would ask Miss Summer. Maybe they could have juice boxes too if they were really good. He liked the juice boxes at school as did Billy. And Animal really liked the juice boxes; he did a funny little dance which made Steve giggle and kick his tiger feet. ---At nearly lunch time--- "Mom made spaghetti."

"That's nice," Billy said, a small smile as he put away the cars. "Mom made fish fingers."

"We never have fish fingers," Steve sighed, closing the cupboard and looking over at Billy. "Mom doesn't cook things out of boxes." Billy wished his mom would cook things like Steve's mom did. That would be nice, but she didn't at the moment. Not enough time and Billy had noticed how tired his mom was. He knew the real reason why she didn't cook. It was then that he realised Steve had left the playhouse and was now outside, setting the table. Plastic knives and forks and plates like they're going to eat. Billy wanted to tell him it's not dinner time, but then Animal, who liked to look at everything, pointed to the clock. It was dinner time! Steve had also got juice boxes, which made Billy and Animal so excited. Steve was the best! He always thought about him and Animal as well as himself and Kermit. As soon as Steve opened the lid on his favourite lunchbox, Billy's eyes were a picture and Steve was so happy to see his best friend's face light up. Steve giggled and watched as Billy and Animal slowly took their seats, eyes still on the spaghetti and meatballs.

"Is that…"

"Yep. It's for us to share. You couldn't come to my house so I bwing the spaghetti to you. Mom said I could."

"You're the best Steve!" Billy wiggled a little in his seat as Steve put the lunchbox in the middle of the table so both of them could get the spaghetti. Meatballs too! Four, one for each of them. And their favourite juice boxes. Billy was so happy and as he picked up his plastic knife and fork, he smiled so happily at Steve. Steve really was the best and Billy was glad that he'd talked to him in the sandbox. He was glad Steve was his best friend and that Kermit was Animal's.

"Let's eat!"

#harringrovelovefest #Billy & Steve #harringrove rainbow connection au #harringrove kids au #kaizen's kreations #Harringrovelovefest2024

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years

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Perfection // Shangqi x gn!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: none

Summary: Shangqi’s been acting strange. Getting ready for date night reveals some things you weren’t expecting.

You frowned as Shangqi rushed past you towards the front door. Your coffee mug paused halfway to your mouth and you stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Forgetting something?” you called. He immediately spun around and headed back to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into his chest. Shangqi offered you a sheepish smile and a chaste kiss as an apology.

“Sorry. I love you. Don’t forget that tonight is date night.” He quickly untangled himself from you and headed back towards the front door. You merely cleared your throat and waved your mug at him.

“I forgot pants, didn’t I?” he said.

“You’re cute,” you hummed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to you walking around in just your boxers.”

“Yeah, well, my boss might.” He yanked on some black slacks. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, babe.”

He had been acting strange for about a month now. Shangqi was normally an open book to you. After the whole “I’m not who I say I am and my dad is kind of an immortal assassin with magic rings” situation, he promised to never keep a secret from you and he kept that promise. So this whole new avoidance act was a little unsettling. You didn’t want to think the worst, but his behavior was becoming concerning. Constantly forgetting things due to rushing out of the house, acting skittish around you when he had his phone out, and lying about his location and plans were only a few of behaviors that had started weeks ago.

You took a long sip of your coffee and leaned your hip against the wall, studying the movie poster on the wall before you. Maybe you could bring it up at date night tonight.

“Hey, hi, holy shit you look hot,” Shangqi greeted as you opened the door to your shared apartment. You grinned and raised a hand to cup his cheek and bring him in for a sweet kiss. His large hand brushed against the small of your back and he pulled you in closer.

“Nope.” You pulled away. “Our reservations are in an hour. You need to get ready. Go. Shoo.”

“Okay, okay.” He raised his hands in surrender and shut the door behind him. He darted forward and stole another kiss from you. You melted against him and started to deepen the kiss until you remembered.

“Nope! You are insatiable. Truly a menace to society. Go before you wrinkle my clothes.”

He disappeared into the tiny bathroom and you heard the shower turn on before the door opened again and his head poked out.

“Hey, could you do me a favor and grab clothes for tonight?”

“Is this because I nearly ripped your polo in half trying to get it off you the last time I picked out your clothes?”

He feigned hurt and let out an exaggerated gasp, his hand coming up to splay across his chest. “Such harsh accusations! Absolutely it is.”

“I’m picking out your tightest pants.”

“I expect nothing less from you.”

You shook your head with a grin and headed over to his dresser. Grabbing a pair of dark wash jeans and one of his polos, you opened this sock drawer and pulled out some briefs and a sock roll.

And then your eyes caught something. You laid down his clothes on the bed and came back to the dresser, pushing aside a few pairs of his underwear.

“Oh,” you breathed. “Oh.”

Tears sprang to your eyes and your hand hovered over the little black box. The shower shut off and you yanked your hand back as if you were burned and you quickly pulled his clothes over it again before closing the drawer again.

You turned your focus towards flipping through the mail on your nightstand, pointedly avoiding the sight of your very handsome, very well-endowed boyfriend emerging from the bathroom with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Pick something good for me?” he asked lightly. You both knew that you could have laid out a onesie with I LOVE THANOS emblazoned on the ass in rhinestones and he would still wear it.

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“Hey. You okay?” You drew your eyes up to meet his and he frowned. “We don’t have to go out tonight.”

“No, no. I’m okay. We haven’t had a night out in a while.”

“Okay.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “If you want to stay home, just let me know.”

“I love you.”

He kissed your temple and smiled. “Love you too.”

And of course nothing could go right. The bus was late so the two of you decided to just Uber. And then the Uber driver cancelled the ride two minutes out. You had twenty minutes to get to the restaurant which would be a thirty minute drive…if the traffic was good.

And the traffic was never good.

And then it started pouring down rain.

“Shit! Shitshitshit,” Shangqi chanted as he pulled you under an awning. You laughed, already soaked to the bone. People sprinted past you, using umbrellas and backpacks in futile attempts to protect themselves from the rain. Shangqi swore once more and then groaned.

“I’m sorry, babe, I don’t think we’re making our reservations.”

You looked up at him. Here you were, standing with the man you loved under the awning of a little coffee shop that served the best vanilla lattes, soaking wet and smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

“How were you going to ask me? Put it in champagne? Or get down on one knee in front of everyone?”

He blinked rapidly in surprise and then reared back. “What? How long have you known?”

“Sock drawer. It’s a bit cliche, honey.”

Shangqi’s shoulders slumped and he sighed. “I’m sorry. I wanted everything to be perfect.”

You cupped his face in your hands and tilted his face up so you could see him clearly. His hands raised to grasp your wrists, thumb stroking along the inside of your wrist along the veins.

“It’s already perfect. Just being with you. I don’t need anything else. If you asked me right here and right now, I’d say yes.”

A grin curled at the corner of his lips and he reached into his pants pocket to extract the small velvet box. He flipped it open, revealing the most beautiful ring you had ever seen.

“Please give me the opportunity to give you even a fraction of happiness that you’ve brought to my life,” he murmured.

“If marrying you means spending every night watching shitty dramas on TV with you and missing reservations and magic rings or whatever, then I would have done it yesterday if I could.”

Perfection be damned. He was all you needed.

#shang chi #xu shang chi #shang chi imagine #shang chi x reader #shang chi and the legend of the ten rings #shangqi #shangqi x reader #marvel imagine #mine #requested

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starlitangels · 2 years

Text

Shaw Pack Boi Headcanons

Just random ones

Milo and Asher both have a scar bisecting one of their eyebrows. Asher’s is in the middle of his right brow and Milo’s is on the outside edge of his left brow. They got them from each other’s claws play-fighting in wolf form as teenagers (but when unempowered folks ask, they give different, increasingly ridiculous/hilarious explanations each time)

Milo is left-handed

David told Angel that there isn’t a half-decent cook among the rest of the pack, but (apart from Davey’s usual dramatics) that’s because Milo has never admitted to David that his Ma taught him a lot growing up and he’s actually pretty damn good

He and Sweetheart prefer to make dinner together, but whenever Sweetheart’s working late on a case Milo always has dinner ready for when his mate gets home and it’s always freaking delicious

Asher is actually a talented artist. He has dozens of sketches of Babe, David, Milo, his parents, etc. in a little sketchbook he never shows anyone.

David knows Asher is an artist but never pushes anything on him about it.

Asher designed the Shaw Security logo of his own accord and gave it to David, who never told the rest of the pack where he got it from

Also for Angel and Davey’s first anniversary Ash drew Angel as an actual angel embracing a massive black wolf with both arms and wings and gave it to them. Davey and Angel got it framed and hung it on the wall in their living room (they hid it behind a selfie Angel took of the two of them when Angel’s unempowered family came to visit because they had no idea how to explain why David’s best friend drew David as a wolf)

David is amazing at karaoke but will never actually do karaoke unless it’s one of those private room places and it’s just him and Angel (and maybe Asher and Babe)

Milo is the toughest wolf in the pack. He can take the most punishment and still remain standing, even compared to David and Asher. He might not be strong or big enough to overpower either of them, but he can outlast them

Davey and Angel have little mementos of each other. Davey gave Angel a leather bracelet with a wolf carved into it, and Angel gave Davey a ring made of two silver angel wings (Angel meant to get it for his middle finger so when he flipped them off it was still with a “I love you but I’m exasperated” vibe, but misjudged his size and it fits on his wedding ring finger. He never takes it off unless he’s planning on shifting)

Asher is the best at Super Smash Bros. It’s the only time he ever beats David in a “fight” (David claims he isn’t the biggest fan of the game anyway—he thinks it’s too cartoony—but everyone knows he’s lying)

That said, Milo can give Ash a run for his money, especially if items are off

Asher absolutely has a collection of nerdy posters and T-shirts, but Milo has an Iron Man onesie

David keeps every contact in his phone as First Name, Last Name. No emoji. No contact photo. The only two exceptions are Angel (who has a black heart next to their name since David keeps his phone in dark mode and it’s not terribly visible), and Asher (who took a silly selfie—when David left his phone out and unlocked once—and set it as his contact photo. David has never had the heart to get rid of it)

Asher has five (5) emergency contacts in his phone. His parents and Babe, obviously, but also David and Milo

Angel’s ringtone for Davey is “Hungry Like the Wolf”

David doesn’t customize ringtones, but for Angel he changed the vibration pattern so when he gets a call or text from them during a meeting while his phone is on vibrate, he knows it’s them (he claims it’s in case of an emergency)

Asher is absolutely the type to have weird contact names for people, with all sorts of emojis. Every single pack member has a wolf next to their name in his phone

Milo only has a few that aren’t just their names. Like his parents and Sweetheart. Asher keeps adding emojis to his own contact info whenever he manages to swipe Milo’s phone, and Milo keeps deleting them

Don’t know why I went off on a phone tangent there. moving on

Asher has pierced ears, but takes his earrings out for jobs

Milo used to have pierced ears but he forgot to wear earrings for so long that the holes healed up and he doesn’t want to re-pierce them so now he’s just got the scars

Asher tried to get David to pierce his ears when they were teenagers but David refused (“something something not practical with shifting blah blah blah”)

The little kids of the pack love play-wresting with David and he’s always good at pretending to lose (and if, lowkey, Angel gets just a little bit of baby fever every time they watch, David never brings it up—even though he would definitely notice every time)

Darlin’ was taller than David until they were 16, at which point he shot past them. Darlin’s been bitter about it ever since.

#Milo #Asher #David #Redacted ASMR #David Shaw #Redacted Asher #Redacted Milo #Redacted David #Redacted Davey

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fishnets-fingers · 2 years

Text

Six Months - Part Eighteen

Summary - Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together?

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n - not happy with how a lot of dialogue turned out. if you have any questions or thoughts about the series, please pop over to my asks. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 11.6 k

Warnings - smut (restraint, mentions of buttplug), angst if you squint, fluff.

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

“Say cheese, everybody!” One of Anne’s friends chirps from behind the camera.

Layla and Harry had set up a small photo corner at the nook of the drawing room, with hay bales and a backdrop that had clouds printed on them. The party had turned out well. Layla was sitting on the hay bale on the right, dressed in a dog’s costume, with a nose and whiskers she drew on her face with an eyeliner, and the biggest smile on her face. Harry was at the centre in his collared blue and white chequered dress, embellished with sequins that were stitched to look like strawberries. He even went out of his way to get a matching bow made that he used to clip his hair back. Earl was standing behind Layla in his adorable Cowardly Lion onesie and the nose Layla had drawn on with her eyeliner. Vasanth and Abi were on the other side. Abi dressed in a faux black leather long jacket and some striped green and black tights. Her bump was pronounced with the lights from the lightbox that Harry had set up earlier. She managed to match her eye makeup to her colour palette and made a long pointy hat made from black chart paper, serving every bit of Wicked Witch of the West. Behind her was her husband in his Tin Man costume, looking awkward because his niece and wife had cornered him and painted something gooey on his eyebrows which now made them stand out against his skin, a very metallic silver. Anne’s close friend, and book club member, Dana, was in a scarecrow costume, sitting on the other hay bale, opposite to Layla. Then there was the star of the show, Anne, who was pleasantly surprised when she walked in the door after work to them yelling happy birthday in costume. She was quick in getting into her puffy pink, Glinda the Good Witch gown. A tiara resting on top of her head and the wand she was holding in her hand had a glittery 52 cardboard attached to the top, her other hand coming to proudly link with her son who went to great lengths to give her a special birthday.

“Cheeeeese,” the group says in response as a flash from Harry’s camera blinds them.

“I think it came out well, you guys,” the older man behind the camera declares. His grey hair peppered with his strawberry blonde, made him look distinguished. His eyes a piercing blue - like it would cut right through your soul.

“Thank you,” Harry mumbles, coming to look into the screen of the camera, eyes assessing if everything turned out right.

The party was in full swing. There were all of Anne’s friends along with their plus ones. Some neighbours were invited. The playlist was tastefully curated by Harry, who weaved together soundtracks from the Wizard of Oz and other classic party hits. Hors d’oeuvres - shrimp tartlets, bruschetta, spinach and artichoke stuffed mushrooms - were placed in the dining room. Wine was freely flowing. Anne glided from one group to the other greeting her friends and making small talk. Vasanth and Abi were in deep discussion with a neighbour. Harry was busy taking pictures of the guests, who mostly came dressed up as Ozians and there were a few others that came in generic costumes.

“Earl, here,” Layla says, handing him a stuffed mushroom. They were both in the dining room. Layla had pulled out two of the chairs and placed them at the corner of the room, so the two could sit together and eat.

“Thanks, Layla.” He pops it into his mouth. Layla bites into her bruschetta, wiping down the juices that dripped from the corner of her mouth.

“Why aren’t you mingling with everyone?”

“Too many people.” She shrugs. “They’re all new. I really don’t care for small talk.”

“You did a great job with the food, honey,” he compliments, sipping from his champagne flute.

“Thank you. All I did was order and plate them,” she giggles.

“Will you ever learn to take a compliment?” He asks with a chuckle.

“Probably not.”

“Anne’s really loving this, huh?”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “She cried when we yelled out surprise. Auntie had to drag her upstairs to get her dressed up; she just wouldn’t stop hugging us.”

“Poor thing has been working so hard. She deserves this. When I was over at the hospital the other day, she looked down because it was her brother’s birthday and she misses her family.”

“Yeah. I think they’re going over for Christmas soon. So at least she has something to look forward to.”

Earl laughs. “Layla, how are you so clueless?”

“What?” She turns over to face him fully, eyebrows knit together, perplexed.

“Do you really think Harry would leave you and go back to England?” He asks.

“I don’t understand. He told me they always celebrate Christmas with the family,” she sips from her beer.

“Little lady, he’s fully planning to spend Christmas with you,” he tells her, pushing a rogue lock of her hair that peaks from her dog suit.

“Oh. I didn’t know,” she says, face flushing.

“Now you do, Lails. That boy over there loves you and I’d bet my fortune that you love him too.”

“I don’t know. I feel a lot of things. I don’t know if I want to put a label on them yet. I don’t want to say something before I’m certain,” she sighs. “But I do feel a lot.”

“I suppose that makes sense. Although back in my day, we were totally opposite. I told my wife that I loved her three weeks after I met her,” he winks at her.

“No way. Did she freak out? I would have.”

“She called me silly and took the rose from my hand and winked,” he chuckles.

“How cute.”

Daydreaming by Aretha Franklin starts crooning through the speakers. “Would you look at that,” he smiles. “She used to put this on and pull me in for a dance every time I got home from deployment.”

Layla could tell the smile on Earl’s face was bittersweet, reminiscing about all the dances he shared with the girl of his dreams.

“Would you do me the honour?” She asks, extending her palm out as an invitation as she stands up, cocking her head to the side.

“I’d love to, Lails.”

He soon takes her in his arms, he sways them both gently. Harry walks into the dining room in search of Layla when he sees them both dancing by the French windows. The moonlight casting a silvery glow around the two and they danced together, laughing. He immediately raises his camera, fiddling with the buttons to get it into video mode, wanting to capture this moment that the two would treasure.

////

“Kutti, look,” Abi says, catching her attention.

She was in the kitchen ripping open the foil from the containers of food. Layla follows her Aunt’s gaze to find Anne laughing with the man who took their group picture.

“Who’s that?” She asks.

“I don’t know. But he’s a handsome fellow, isn’t he?”

“Sure is. His eyes are so blue,” she emphasises the last word as she peels back foil from the baked salmon and fennel salad.

“I know right!” Abi picks up the big skillet of the seafood paella from the oven warmer.

“Hey, baby, the flutters are really bothering me.” Harry circles behind the kitchen counter to meet the two, rubbing his eye with one hand and a camera on the other. His right eye was red and watery.

“Don’t rub it in then,” she scolds. She comes over to him and adjusts the eyelash band that didn’t stick properly.

“Flutters?” Abi asks.

“She stuck these eyelashes in my eye and they’ve been poking me nonstop,” he informs her as Layla tears off a kitchen towel to pat dry the tears, hoping it won’t streak his makeup.

“Ah. I was wondering why your eyes look different. At least your mascara is waterproof, you don’t look like a raccoon.”

“Who is that man flirting with Anne?” Earl asks, walking in to join the trio.

“We don’t know if they are flirting. They’re just talking,” Layla says.

“Honey. They’re standing close to each other and smiling,” Earl states, looking at Layla like she’s lost her marbles.

“Well, the music is kinda loud and he could just be funny,” Abi says, glancing over to the pair in the living room.

Harry blinks a few more times, testing to see if the fake lashes irritate his eye and he smiles when they don’t. Layla had clearly fixed it. He pulls up a spoon from the drawer and scoops some of the risotto with carrots, corn and kale and pops it in his mouth.

He looks at his mum, past all the other adults in costume. He sees the man who took the picture place a hand on Anne’s arm. “Oh he’s definitely into her alright.”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Earl breathes out.

“What’s taking you all so long?” Vasanth huffs out. “We need to cut the cake and have dinner set up in the dining room for a buffet.”

“Anne’s talking to someone!” Abi exclaims.

“Oh you mean, Vincent Wagner.”

“How do you know his name?” Layla asks.

“Because I talked to him,” he replies, coming to boop Layla’s painted nose.

“Tell me everything. Is he sus or chill?” Harry grills him.

“I don’t know what sus means, Harry.”

“He’s asking you if he’s nice,” Layla explains.

“He seems nice. He’s Dana’s brother.” Dana was Anne’s close friend that she often meets for her book club. She was the one tasked to bring Anne home from the hospital, after Harry had dropped her off in the morning. “She’s brought him along. He works in the university hospital as a general surgeon.” Vasanth fills them in. Earl and Abi nod, clearly impressed by Dr. Wagner's credentials.

Harry whistles. “He knows his way around the camera too.”

“Okay. Let’s get to work, gossip queens. It’s time for some cake,” Vasanth declares, looking at the oven clock that said that it was half past seven. “Layla, Harry, give me a hand to put the food on the table. Abi, Earl, get the cake out and light the candles,” he says, like a man on a mission.

They all get to work immediately and when Layla comes around, Abi and Earl had lit up the candles on her Wizard of Oz cake that Harry had made from scratch. People start to gather around it.

“Give me the camera and go enjoy the celebration, would you?” Vincent says, extending his hand out for the camera from Harry.

He smiles at him as he hands over the camera and goes to stand next to Anne, whose tears threaten to spill over at the sight of her son’s handiwork.

“Oh, H. It’s beautiful,” she praises as she hugs him close.

The layered cake stood atop a circular disc that Harry had covered with a light green frosting. Yellow brick road on the other side , he made the brick patterns by scoring his icing with a knife to create small rectangles. The dark green bushes were cut and placed by the road and were dotted with red flowers and a small pair of glittery ruby red shoes that Layla had spent meticulously covering every centimetre with edible glue, the witches feet sticking out of the other end made her chuckle, looking over at Layla knowing very well that it was her artistry. The yellow brick road, complete with the red flowers and bushes, continues leading up to the emerald city that proudly stood atop the cake, complete with gold trimmings and flags. A white banner that had ‘Happy 52nd Anne’ scrawled in impeccable calligraphy.

“Thanks, mum. Hope you like how it turned out. Layla helped too,” he nods towards her.

“Oh it wasn’t a big deal,” she waves her hand.

Anne blows a kiss towards her and soon a chorus of happy birthday, from thirty people, fills the room. .

“Make a wish, mum,” Harry reminds her.

They all cheer when she blows out her candles with a big smile.

////

The lively house had gone quiet. Party streamers, confetti, and torn up wrapping paper were strewn on the pale cream carpet. Everyone had made their way home. Earl was slumped on the couch. Vasanth is massaging Abi’s feet on the loveseat. Layla was on the floor with her feet stretched out in front of her. Harry was beside her - face flushed from the wine he had consumed throughout the evening - head on her shoulder, drawing lazy patterns on her thigh, feeling the soft fur of the dog suit. All clearly pooped from the ordeal.

“Here you go, Earl,” Anne says, handing him a makeup wipe.

“Thanks, hun.” He pulls a towelette from the package and proceeds to wipe the nose Layla had drawn on him with an eyeliner.

She sits back down, picking up a box from Earl. She tears it open and lifts out a cheese dome.

“How cute,” Layla squeals. It’s ceramic and it has a tiny white mouse wearing a green apron perched on top of a mushroom looking dome.

“Earl, this would look wonderful in the dining room. Would really tie into my fairy garden. Thank you.” She says, passing it to Layla who’s making grabby hands at the dome, wanting to inspect it further.

Anne picks up the next box from Vasanth and Abi. She tears it open to find a colourful patchwork quilt. She runs her hand feeling the softness and admiring the different patterns in each square. “This is so beautiful. The material is so soft too. Thank you.”

“It’s bamboo cotton. Hope it keeps you nice and warm in the winter,” Abi says with a smile.

“I can’t wait to take this with me to the hospital and curl up in the nurse’s lounge during my breaks.” Anne folds it and drapes the comforter on the arm of her couch, moving it to the side so as to not wrinkle it.

She picks up the last and the smallest package of them all. It had Layla’s name on it. She unties the ribbon and opens the lid of the small cardboard box and gasps when she sees what’s in them.

“Sweetie, did you make them yourself?”

“Yeah. Hope you like it,” she says nervously, going to scratch the back of her neck.

“I love it! They’re so small. Wow.” She beams, pulling out two small origami dragons from the box. The paper had patches of sky blue, dark blue, red and had gold lines running through it. They were connected by small hoops on the body, so they can serve as earrings.

She gives her an awkward smile in return.

Anne passes the box with the earring around, so everyone who’s there can take a look at it.

“Oh kutti. I still have one of these,” she gushes, passing it over to Earl. “She made me these origami crane threader type earrings and I still wear them.”

“Didn’t you use to sell them in school?” Vasanth asks.

“Yeah,” she chuckles. “A nun busted my ass and ratted me out to my mum. I was so scared she was gonna beat me but she went home and laughed and told me to make them and give it to whoever I wanted free of cost.”

“Really? You paint your mum to be a voice of terror,” Harry tells her.

“She’s a pain in my ass most of the time but we have our moments. I was a very curious kid growing up and would get into everything and tear it open-“

“It drove us insane. We’d buy her a toy and she’d somehow managed to pry it open in a few days. Monkey hands, I tell you,” Vasanth interrupts, shaking his head, thinking back to all of his things she’d broken open.

“So, one day she came home with a book on origami and some colour paper and I just took to it very quickly.”

“Clever thinking on her part. She certainly harnessed your potential,” Earl observes looking at the tiny folded piece of paper in his hand, admiring the sharp crisp edges of the dragon.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart. Thank you,” Anne tells her, reaching forward to squeeze her hand to show her appreciation.

“Thank you, Harry. I love that you did this for me. You made me feel so special. Thank you for the gift. I'm looking forward to it.” She tells him. Harry had given her two airplane tickets for a week in Seychelles during the summer, on their traditional birthday brunch. He’d told her that it’ll be an all expense paid trip and she could take someone or him; he’d be happy either way. “Thank you all for doing all of this and helping him surprise me. I feel very lucky to have you all in my life,” she finishes, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

They all murmur their appreciation of Anne and sit back in silence, assessing the mammoth task of cleaning up tomorrow.

“Well, looks like I should head home. It’s past my bedtime,” Earl declares, standing up.

“Let me drop you off,” Vasanth offers. He was the one who drove him there in the afternoon.

“It would be much of a hassle for you?”

“Not at all,” he responds, getting up to go get Earl his coat.

“Alright, kutti. Let’s head home and turn in?” Abi says.

“I’d like to stay here. Is that okay?” Layla looks expectantly at her Uncle and Aunt.

“Of course. Help Anne and Harry clean up in the morning,” Vasanth instructs and she nods.

“You have your clothes to change into? Do you need me to bring them over?” Abi asks.

“No. I’ll borrow some of his sweats.”

Harry goes over to see them out and locks the door. He comes back to find Layla and his mother scrunching up the wrapping paper and tossing it into a garbage bag. Once they’re done, Anne picks up the birthday cards she’d hadn’t gotten around to reading from the coffee table. “I’m heading upstairs to call it a night,” she announces. “Thank you, love,” she tells Harry once again, kissing him on the cheek. “Thank you too, Layla.” She pulls her in for a hug as well, kissing her cheek to show that she’d appreciated all that she’d done.

They quietly walk up the stairs and Harry shuts the door behind her and clicks to lock the door, as Layla kicks off her shoes.

“So, you wanna go wash off the makeup,” he cocks his head towards the loo.

“You are thoroughly mistaken if you think I’m gonna let you go without having the makeup run down your face, Dorothy.” Layla licks her lips and walks towards him, trapping him between her and the wall.

“I- I def- I would like that very much too, baby,” he whispers, feeling his body heat up in response to her words.

She gets on her tippy toes and tugs the white collars down, and crashes his ruby red lips to her own. They feel the tingles surge and Harry loops his arms behind her back, pulling her flush against him. He whimpers as she licks into his mouth, caressing his tongue.

“Do you still uh, have the buttplug?” She asks, pulling back, watching the emerald shrink as his pupils blow out in desire.

“No. I took it out after an hour. Felt uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” Harry could hear the slight pang of disappointment in her voice.

“But I can go and get it from the bathroom and we can try again,” he proposes, trailing wet kisses from the corner of her mouth up to her jaw.

“No no,” she coos, using her thumb to caress his swollen lower lip, messing up the smudged red lipstick in the process. Seeing his messy lips makes her press her thighs together. “Just want you to be comfortable, baby boy. How about we put those cuffs you bought to good use?”

“Yes, please, Lails.”

“Okay. Can you take them out and sit on the bed? Wait for me, okay?”

“Of course, baby.”

She chastely kisses his lips and then his nose and walks into the bathroom. She sees the silicone buttblug tossed haphazardly on his counter. She quickly unzips her dog suit and pulls out some tissues out of the box. She wipes down the sweat from her pits and her underboobs, she’d got quite hot in her ensemble as the night progressed. She then reaches for her cleansing balm, and warms it up between her palms, before rubbing circles on her face. She splashed some water on her face when she had effectively broken down her whiskers and eyeliner nose. She uses the towel to pat her skin dry before quickly peeing. This would do for now, she can cleanse properly later.

When she swings the door open, clad in her sports bra and mismatched granny panties, that had holes in them. Harry couldn’t help but breathe out, “My sweet beautiful girl.”

She strides towards him. He’s sat on the edge of the bed, with the cuffs laid out next to him - exactly as she’d asked. “Hi,” she coos, when she straddles him, nose coming to trace the angle of his jaw.

“Hi, baby,” he chuckles, bending down to kiss her forehead, hands playing with the flesh of her thighs.

“Thought it’d be weird to give you a blowie in whiskers,” she chuckles.

“I’m getting a blowie?” He asks, eyes wide in glee.

“Obviously. You can’t parade around in your red tights and bloomers and not expect a blowjob,” she likes his dimples.

“Let’s go then,” he says, as he rocks back and forth, so his red stocking clad thighs come to rub deliciously at the junction of her thighs.

“Are you okay with me restraining you?” She checks in, as she leans to the right to pick up his restraints.

“Yup.”

She quickly gets it open and Harry automatically puts both of his hands behind his back. She makes quick work securing his wrists and checks, if it’s too tight.

“Safe word?” She prompts.

“Periwinkle.”

“Good. Now let’s get this clip out of your hair. Really brings attention to your receding hairline,” she chuckles, getting his bow out of his hair.

“Gee, thanks. Honestly, do you have a list of insults written down somewhere,” he kisses the tip of her nose.

“No. I’m a natural,” she giggles. She smooths his hair, so it flops down his forehead.

“There’s my boyfriend,” she cheers, leaning in for a drawn out kiss. She runs her hands up his back as she starts kissing down his neck.

She wraps her lips around his nipple, tugging it with her teeth and he moans out loudly. “Again, please!”

“Thank fuck your room is soundproof,” she whispers tugging his other nipple into her mouth. Her fingers come to caress the other two.

She nips and suckles down, sinking down to her knees.

“Pillow?” He asks, cocking his head to the end of the bed, wanting her to be comfortable.

Her heart flutters, so fucking sweet.

“I’m good, babe. Thank you.” She rises up on her knees to sloppily kiss the corner of his mouth.

“More,” he whines and she obliges, letting him suck on her bottom lip as she awkwardly peels away his bloomers.

“Have I ever told you how fucking good you look, in these tights?” She says, sitting back on her heels, trailing kisses up his thigh, stopping when she gets dangerously close to his crotch and switching to the other thigh.

“I’m very hard,” he whimpers.

“Teasing is not so nice now, is it?”

“Touch me!” He demands.

“Okay. Hold on. Gotta get these off, Har.” She hooks her fingers at the hem of his stockings at the top of his thighs.

“Tear them off.”

“What?”

“Rip them. I’m not wearing briefs,” he tells her.

“Okay.” She hikes his dress up, so it bunches up at his love handles. She grits her teeth as she tears it open, surprised at the amount of strength it requires.

When that’s out of the way, she quickly takes him out and licks on his head.

“Fuck me,” he groans, throwing his head back, as she swallows around him.

It doesn’t take her much to take him into her mouth, sucking hard, one hand comes to roll his balls and the other soothingly rubbed at his stocking clad thigh.

He looks down to see her but is unable to make eye contact as she’s hidden under his dress but he could see her movements.

“Jesus shit,” he managed to get out as he hit the back of her throat.

“So fucking good you are, Layla.” Tears spring to the corners of his eyes both from the fire scorching in his belly and the frustration of not being able to cup her cheeks or thread his fingers in her hair.

She messily licks up the underside of his shaft, coming to suckle his tip groaning around him knowing the vibrations drive him mad.

“Gonna come,” he breathes out and she immediately pops off. Sitting back down on his floor again, wiping the mouth on his red thigh.

“I’m going to get on top okay. You can come then. But only after I get to come once,” she says.

He nods. She uses his knees to hoist herself up, wincing when she feels a pull down the back of her thighs.

“You okay, baby?” Green eyes inspecting her with alarm, snapping out of his fuzzy state.

“Just a cramp,” she groans, shaking her leg.

“Ugh. This is totally ruining the mood,” she rolls her eyes.

“No it’s not. I’m pretty sure I’m seconds away from blowing my load. How about I take over, hmm? We could use the restraints to the fullest another time.”

“Okay. You do that.” She tells him, bending down to unclip the restraints and toss it on the corner of his bed.

He gets up and rummages through his drawers for a condom and the lube. He rolls it down his length without taking his eyes off her as she’s taking off her bra and panties. He squirts some lube on his length as she bends over his bed.

“Want it like this,” she instructs, cheek on the mattress.

“Anything you want, my love.” He goes to stand behind her and spread her thighs apart. He spreads some lube and her wetness before sinking into her.

“Ah,” she lets out a soft moan, feeling full as he bottoms out.

“Okay?”

“So so okay. Move, Har.” She grunts and he starts to thrust shallowly into her, relishing how wet, warm and ready she was for him.

“Always perfect for me, my sweet girl.” He bends down to kiss her back, before pulling back slowly and sinking into her again.

She lurches forward when he thrusts in quickly, so he grabs on to her hips and starts building a steady rhythm.

“Ah. Right there. Don’t stop,” she pleads when he prods at her spongy spot.

“Not gonna. Gonna give it all to you,” he grunts in her ear, combing down so his chest is flushed with hers. Moans, heavy breaths, praises and skin slapping against each other fills the room. He burrows his face in her hair, feeling her contract her muscles around him making the two yell out profanities. Tears stream down his cheek by how sex makes his feelings for her intensify. He reaches out to weave his fingers into one of her hands and she brings it up to her lips, kissing the back of his hand.

“Coming,” she breathes out, burying her face in her pillow as she rides out her wave, body quaking as pleasure consumes her.

“Shit shit shit. I’m close,” he grunts, gritting his teeth at the way she’s clenched around him. Impossibly tight, like a vise.

“Come.” Her voice, muffled by his mattress. “Need you to, Har. Like you so much.”

“Can I- Christ.. can I come on you?”

“Yeah.”

He quickly slips out of her, peeling off his condom and tossing it on the floor beside his leg. His fist quickly works around him, and soon after he’s spurting ribbons of come down her ass and thighs with a loud whimper.

He stands there, trying to catch his breath as he blinks back the tears that had formed a thin film in his eyes.

“Hold on. I’ll clean you up.” He says, rushing to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth.

When he does, his reflection on the mirror was an absolute mess. Lipstick smeared all over his lower face, lips swollen and pink. A faint hickey on his neck, one of his flutters were coming off, and tear streaks all apparent with his red blush. She’d successfully messed up his makeup.

////

“What do you think about this one?” Layla asks, squatting down to inspect the pumpkin on the ground. “Are you even listening to me,” he grunts. They drove out to Tulle’s Farm and were in the middle of pumpkin picking. There was barely anyone around on Tuesday afternoon.

“Yeah. Yeah,” she replies, squinting her eyes as she lifts her head up to look at him, sun hitting her eyes.

“I’m just saying,” he continues, knowing that he has her undivided attention. “People look to tall people in situations of peril. We’re like the ozone layer of society.”

“Ozone layer of society!” Layla laughs, body rumbling that she loses her footing and plops on the ground. ”What eve-“ she sputters into a peeling laughter again, until a small snort escapes her, which only makes her giggle harder.

His scowl can’t help but turn upward at the adorable snort that escaped her mouth. “I don’t know why you find that funny,” he tries his hardest to be stern but the caters on his cheek and the tear that slowly escapes from his eye conveys the exact opposite.

“Because you aren’t as tall as you think,” she fires back with a playful smirk, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes as well.

He gasps, eyes widening at her comment. “Bullocks. Now you’re just being a dickhead. I’m six feet,” he says proudly, bunny teeth coming to view as the corners of his mouth lift upwards.

“No. You’re not. I like you with my whole heart, babe. And that’s the only reason I’m telling you this. You’re like 5.10”, maybe 5.11” tops.”

“Slander,” he huffs out, crossing his arms over his chest protectively.

“No. You’re as tall as Auntie and she’s like 5.10”. Those Gucci boots and loafers you like wearing have heels to give you those extra inches.”

“I have bad posture! I’m taller than Abi.”

“Okay. Maybe by an inch but you're still not six feet,” she points out.

“Why are you breaking my heart like this, sweet girl?” He pouts, coming to crouch down to her level.

“I’m shouldering this huge burden of keeping your ego in check,” she mutters, coming to rub her nose against his. “Look at this way,” her hands come to swirl the ringlets at the nape of his neck. “You’re taller than me.”

“Everyone is taller than you,” he reminds her, coming to poke the dimple on her cheek.

“And I own the fact that I’m a shrimp. I think it’s high time you do too.” She teases him.

“You such a dickhead you know that.” He leans to press a small kiss on her lips, chaste but full of love.

“Too bad you’re in love with said dickhead.”

“Very bad indeed,” he agrees. “Why are you wearing this jacket again? Aren’t you sweating from walking around and picking pumpkins?”

“Yeah but trust me I need it,” she tells him, pulling the oversized racing jacket around her frame. Her Uncle made sure to zip her up in his NASCAR Tide jacket before she stepped out. The jacket gave her outfit a pop of colour, something her Western outfits mostly lacked. She’d paired it with her Dad’s grey track bottoms and her black Panic! At The Disco t-shirt. Her little gold elephant sat in between her collarbones. She regretted her choice of white trainers, because it had become dirty walking through the uneven muddy ground. She was clearly swimming in her outfit.

“Do you want me to put this in?” He questions, pointing to the oblong pumpkin that Layla had deemed worthy.

“Yes please, my ozone layer of society,” she giggles again.

“Meanie,” he nudges her shoulder, going to pick the pumpkin up.

“How about this then, my incredibly strong tall boyfriend, can you place the pumpkin in the wheelbarrow because your frail girlfriend depends on you?” She smiles.

“You forgot handsome,” he nuzzles her nose.

“Okay, Harry, my strong, tall, handsome boyfriend, please put the pumpkin in the wheelbarrow.”

“That’s more like it, baby.” His ego inflates, grin widening, as he stands up with the pumpkin.

“Such a narcissist,” she mutters, looking at the way the muscles on his back flex underneath his tight white Kiss t-shirt. His floppy curls, that were quite greasy, were hidden under an emerald Green Packers beanie.

“Alright we got all the pumpkin we need, yeah?” He comes to clutch at the handle of the blue, which frankly was more rusty, as the paint had worn off, wheelbarrow.

“No. No. No.” She repeats, holding on to one of his pant legs to pull herself up, her knees cracking in protest. “You’ve got all the pumpkins you wanted for your pie. I want two more of these bad boys,” she pats on the waxy orange skin, pushing away the grime that was stuck to it.

“Why two?”

“I want to carve them and put them on the porch. I’m doing two classic faces and one ghost face. I found a stencil one and it looks fairly easy but might take a while though. And I want to do one of the Doors of Durin, so we’ve got to find a pumpkin that’s very oval. Come on, babe,” she says in a high pitched voice, skipping along to find a perfect pumpkin canvas.

Of course she’s gonna carve the Lord of the Rings into her Halloween pumpkins, he chuckles and follows her along with the squeaky wheelbarrow.

He finds himself kicking small rocks on the ground with his black Vans, observing the way she squats down to pick up each pumpkin and see if it’s to her liking. Normally he would hate waiting. His ex-girlfriends have dragged him out to stores, wanting his opinion in the changing rooms and he just stands there looking absolutely bored fiddling with his phone but he’s enjoying this. Which is surprising him to a great extent, because he’s no longer focused on the task at hand. His focus is on her. The way she sniffles and uses the back of her hand or her tissue to rub the tip of her nose. The way she’d push her bangs off her face at the slightest gust of wind, muttering how much she despises her mane. The way she had this compulsion to touch and inspect every part of the pumpkin that she’s planning to buy. The way he knows she is going to put up a scene of wanting to pay for their pumpkins, and pouting because he’s determined to win this time. It makes no sense for him not to spend his money and treat her but her streak of independence gets in the way sometimes. Harry hates the fact that she’s using the money she’s making off of selling her paintings on Etsy, the same savings she is planning to use to get herself a new laptop - something that he figured out when he’d unlocked her phone to read the email from the author, of one of the scales they were using, regarding the cross cultural validity and reliability of said tool and coming across the unclosed Safari window of second hand laptops as he was closing the background applications. He found it endearing but also stupid and stubborn. But he wasn’t going to bring it up at the risk of embarrassing her.

“Got it!” She squeals, bringing the pumpkin and placing it on top of the others in the wheelbarrow.

“Finally! Let’s head home.”

“Let’s. You promised to get the guts out of all these bad boys,” she reminds him, getting on her toes to push a rogue curl that had escaped from her beanie.

“Only if you promise to hold up your end of the bargain,” he retorts, getting his phone out and bringing his camera.

“I don’t remember what that is though,” she smirks, as he lifts his phone up, flipping to the front camera, getting them both in frame, with the pumpkin filled wheelbarrow taking up half the space.

“I’m sure you forgot. But I didn't. Back scratches and a blowie, in that order.”

“We’ll see,” she mutters, automatically throwing her left hand up in a peace sign, squinting a little as the sun assaults her corneas.

He notices that on camera, and moves the phone a little, hoping to relieve some of her discomfort.

“Baby, where’s your watch?” He asks with a straight face looking at the camera, after pressing the red button.

“What?” She feels her stomach drop to the ground and her throat tightening. She whips her head to look at the leather watch that’s supposed to be secured around her wrist. She feels the need to throw up until she finds the familiar yellow bear staring at her, the honeybees moving along the rim of the frame.

“Don’t do that again!” She hisses at him, nostrils flaring and he bursts out laughing, stopping the video from recording, bending down to clutch at his stomach.

“Idiot,” she huffs out. “It’s not funny. Anything but my watch.” She finds herself smiling despite the flicker of rage that had passed through her system.

“You should have seen your face,” he cries, throwing his head back in laughter.

“Asshole. Now shut up and take that picture.”

He takes in a loud breath of air, helping him calm down. “Sorry. But that was gold.”

He lifts his phone up again.

“Do that again and I’ll throw up in your precious Gucci loafers,” she threatens.

“Message received. Won’t try that again. Now come on, Adam Sandler, strike a pose for me.”

////

“Can’t believe you’ve brought me to a make out spot,” Layla chuckles.

“It’s not a make out spot,” he retorts defensively and Layla gives him a dirty look.

“Okay. This is a prime college make out hotspot but,” he pauses, looking around. “I haven’t even made a move to make out with you.”

“True. It’s nice out here,” she says, looking around. Harry had driven her out to a spot that overlooked Chapel Hill.

“You did tell me you were bored from painting from reference pictures of the internet. So, I had to bring you out to the best spot in a college town,” he shrugs.

The autumnal afternoon sun shines lousily. The skies were powder blue and a few white clouds dotted here and there. It was quiet. Just the vacuum of a secret spot, away from the hectic people and the town. Birds chirping, a dull buzz of crickets from the trees. From the elevated vantage of the hill and the additional boost, due to the two of them perched on the hood of the car, things seemed trivial. The buildings were mere white dots of colour, the people occupying them invisible.

“How’d you come to know about this place?” Layla asks.

“Oh uhhh…” A bright flush spreads across his face.

“Phoebe?” She suggests hesitantly. She’s not an idiot. Phoebe went to school in Chapel Hill and she must have been the one to show Harry this.

“Yeah. We’d uh- when she was living in a dorm with her roommate we’d umm…”

“Come here to hook up?”

“Yeah,” he mutters sheepishly. “Don’t be mad I’d rather be here with you right now in the sun rather than come here when it’s dark and-“

“Got it.” She stops him. She really didn’t want any details. “I’m not mad.”

“No?”

“No. Why would I? You didn’t even know me then. Besides, she is HOT!”

“What?” The surprise on his tone, evident.

“Please you have to be blind to not notice that she’s very very attractive. Light blonde, upturned button nose, legs that could go on for days. Please if you had passed up on that, I would smack you,” she laughs.

“Yeah. But it was just getting my rocks off,” Harry says.

“Okay. So?”

“Just letting you know that there wasn’t anything more than that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. You told me. Honestly Harry, no worries,” she reaches to scratch an itch on her temple, smearing some paint on there in the process.

“What do you have planned for the flower braiding ceremony for your Aunt?” He asks, wanting to move on from the subject.

“Not that much. We’ve ordered food from Chandru Uncle’s restaurant.” Nandhini Ganesan and her husband owned a number of Indian eateries in Raleigh, Charlotte, and in Chapel Hill. “I’m cooking two dishes with my Uncle. We’ve sent out the invites. Just gonna be their friends, you, Anne and Earl. That’s all. Oh, the other two Indian families on our street and also the Ganesans, cause duh. You need all the brown people you can get. We’ll get the stuff delivered soon. Mum and Dad shipped it a while ago.”

“What kinda stuff?”

“Oh, like prayer things, lamps, and utensils for the ceremony and all. My grandmum shelled out money to buy those in silver and it’s got an antique look to it. Pretty cool. She insists that we now use them for every little thing so she can justify the money she spent on it,” she chuckles.

“You want me to do something?”

“Yeah. Can you bring your camera to take pictures, please? They’ve hired a photographer for a maternity shoot soon. One of many I suppose. But can you make sure this is covered? Something tells me Uncle and I will be busy, that we won’t be able to take pictures.”

“Sure I’d love to. I’ll even swing by early to get pictures of all you guys before it starts.”

“Thank you,” she adjusts the knit blanket draped on her shoulders, so it didn’t fall on her gouache paint set. She didn’t have time to dress up, busy working on her lesson plan for her classes. Harry had just texted her out of the blue asking her to get ready for a date and to get her paints ready. She put on her leggings and his Harley Davidson t-shirt. She pushed her bangs back with one of his athletic headbands. She envied women who could work with their bangs but she needed her hair away from her face when she was studying and painting. Her hair was pulled back in a high pony. It was a good thing, Harry thought ahead and got them a blanket. She was also grateful that he’d made the snacks and filled up six water bottles. Layla had already chugged down two of them by herself.

“You know you can actually thank me by letting me see what you’re painting,” he smirks. Sliding his rectangle thick tortoise shell framed Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, his green orbs look at her with mirth. He’s leaning against the windshield of his car. Arms tucked behind his head as he soaks up the sun. Legs outstretched that his trainers hang from the hood of the shiny black metal hood.

“You can when I’m done. Can’t let people see the process,” she trails off as she swirls her brush to get rid of the brown. She picks up some red with her brush and mixes it with yellow ochre, on the lid of her gouache set, wanting to get the right colours for the leaves.

Truth be told Harry had already got a peak at her work when he was sitting up straight, feeding her carrots dipped in hummus when she became snippy. He couldn’t help it, she was tiny and he had a better vantage. He’d seen the outline of the town and the trees and a tiny bit of his car. What he didn’t get to see was her reaching for her pencil again to sketch him in the paper, lazily lounging on his car as he soaked up the sunshine.

“Harry?”

“Hmm…”

“I’ve found this jewelry shop in Chapel Hill that does repairs. Can we swing by there after this?”

“Why?”

“So I can fix the chain I yanked from your neck?”

“No.

“What do you mean no?”

“No going to jewellery shops. No repairing it.”

“Come on. Let me fix it for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’ve been thinking of upgrading to something else and I wouldn’t have thought about doing it if you didn’t do that. So in a way, you’ve helped,” he says, not wanting her to spend her money. Plus, he was looking into getting something in gold after seeing all the gold she wears.

“Can we at least swing by so I can pay for your new chain?”

“No.”

“Harry, don’t be a knob,” she huffs out.

“Okay. We can go, but you can drive us there and back home.”

“Are you nuts? I barely drive on the road without panicking about curbs and you want me to make the car go downhill. Fat chance.”

“So that’s settled then. We’re not going.” He smiles in victory.

“You win this time. But don’t think we're done with this topic completely.”

The two settle back into silence soon after. Harry liked that about the two of them. He always had this need to fill in uncomfortable silences. They most often felt awkward to him. But the silence with her was like falling asleep in the warmth of a sunbeam during the harsh winters. He was at ease. Although poets and movies described love as rainbows, a bolt of lightning, sparks flying, universe halting sensations, he came to the conclusion that the best kind of love was slow. Not like that fiery passionate displays of affection he was so used to watching in his precious romcoms.

What he felt with Layla was like watching the sky slowly become dark with the promise of flickering stars. Like they were stitched together at the seams of a universe that ultimately didn’t belong to them. Like watching a flower bloom. Or watching a pot of stew bubble at the stovetop. Slow. Gentle. Sure. Peaceful. Fervent. Steady.

“All done,” Layla declares. Thrusting her art board towards him as she drops the paintbrush into the mason jar with the dirty water, she twists her stiff body around. Groaning at the relief as her joints pop, blood flowing into the muscles of her back that were hard due to sitting up hunched over.

“Wow!” He exclaims. He couldn’t believe it. She’d painted him. He feels his heart soar. He occupied a third of the art board. She got him exactly right. He could even make out the small Gucci on the frame of his sunglasses. His soft brown curls, the mole near his mouth, the tattoos on his arm, the floral design of his Fleetwood Mac t-shirt, the black stipe that ran on his baby blue trousers, his rings, everything was there. Her attention to detail was incredible. She’d captured the bustle of the college town without actually experiencing it, all from a distance. “You’re so talented baby,” he coos.

“Yeah. Yeah. Whatever,” she dismisses his compliment, as she hops down to the gravelly ground. She pulls some tissues from his dashboard and uses it to clean the lid of the gouache paint set that served as her makeshift pallet. “I’m still learning how to paint with them. I would have done much better with the oils or the acrylics.”

“This belongs in a museum. Or even in those snooty art studios,” he tells her, peeling the masking tape she’s used to create a clean edged border. He liked peeling masking tape from her artwork and had done it a couple of times to know how to pull properly without picking up the paint.

“Yeah right,” she chuckles. Chucking the murky brown water onto the gravel, watching it turn a darker shade of grey as the stones absorbed the moisture.

“I’m serious,” he tells her getting off the car, putting the art board on the hood as she stands next to her. “I’m taking you to an art museum for our next date, so you can actually get it into your thick skull that you’re talented as fuck.”

“Suit yourself,” she smiles at him, opening the backdoor to put her supplies into a tote bag that had fallen from the seat.

“Come here,” he mutters, grabbing her waist and pulling her to his chest. She walks backwards, so she’s trapped between the cold shiny body of the car door and Harry. He leans down to press his lips to the top of her head, whiffing generously at the concoction that he was frankly getting addicted to - baby soap, coconut, cocoa butter and Charlie Red. “I love you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, face flushing a warmth at his admission, it still somehow made her want to pinch herself.

His body reverberates against hers as he laughs, head thrown back. Boyish and carefree.

“What?”

“Thank you?” He sputters between giggles. “Who says thank you after someone else I love you?!?”

“Shut up!”

////

“Hello hellos,” Layla beams at the screen, as her friends' faces fill up their designated rectangles.

“Ladies,” Grace says.

Susan and Heidi were sitting next to each other in what looked like the inside of the train. Both had an earbud popped in place.

“Hi. Sorry, we actually are out to get groceries,” Heidi apologises.

“Don’t you guys go out for a grocery run on a Saturday?” Grace asks. It’s a no-brainer that the five women knew each other’s schedule. They texted or video called every opportunity that they got. Granted the calls were fewer but it didn’t stop them from sending random memes on the group every single day.

“Yeah. We actually threw a small party for passing my drivers test. Like five people and we got a little loud that our neighbour came over to ask us to keep it down. So we felt really bad. She’s been nothing but nice to us ever since we moved into the flat,” Susan explains, voice a little hushed than normal, mindful of the decorum of the public transport.

“Yeah. So we’re out to get her some chocolates and apologise.”

“That’s really sweet of you. Is it that middle aged Lebanese woman?” Layla asks.

“Yup.”

“Oh, by the way, Ramya texted. She said she would join us in a couple of minutes. She’s taking a dump right now.” Grace tells them and it makes the others giggle.

“Lails, when are you leaving for New Orleans?” Heidi arches her brow.

“Noon tomorrow. I’ll get to live out my Tiana dreams,” she sighs dreamily.

“Would you go to those voodoo places?” Susan questions.

“Have you met her? She’d probably be there before they open up,” Grace comments and it makes them laugh.

“Any requests for souvenirs from Louisiana?”

“We’ll send a list of the group. So it’s easier for you,” Grace suggests.

“Prefect. So, what’s up with all of you?” Layla asks.

“I applied to a couple of places. I got a call back from three of them. So, I’ll be going to interviews soon. One of them is a government job,” Grace fills them in.

“Nice. I hope you land it, bitch. This way when you tell your family about Jake, you can throw a government job at their faces,” Susan says.

“Oh yeah. Grandparents aren’t gonna approve of you dating a foreigner, I’m sure you landing that job would shut them up. I feel so bad for Aunty and Uncle. They’re gonna get their ass chewed out as well,” Heidi says.

“Oh yeah. My mom and dad were not looking forward to it. My mom said she could already hear her parents criticising her laid back parenting style.” Grace reaches for her juul and takes a big puff, letting out the smoke. “Amma (mum) was the one who suggested I wait to tell the grandparents after I get a job.”

“Smart,” Layla chuckles. She hesitates for a moment before she continues, “I don’t want to sound like an old geyser but jeez, Grace, that’s a lot of smoke.”

“Yeah. But at least this way my lungs won’t be fucked compared to cigarettes,” she replies.

“Not by much.” Layla reminds her. Layla often butted heads with anyone who smokes. It wasn’t her fault that she nearly collapsed the day she walked to the bus stand from college, past a group of men smoking on the sidewalk. Her asthma kicked up in minutes and it happened that she’d forgotten her inhaler at home that day.

“Okay okay. I’m gonna step in before this gets heated,” Susan steps in. “Layla, the smoke isn’t gonna hurt you. Grace, we’re proud that you’ve decided to leave cigarettes behind.”

“Sorry,” Layla apologies. “So how does that work? Electronic things?”

“Oh, so basically, there are these liquids you pour into this compartment.” Grace shows the juul to her friends.

“Liquid?” Susan asks.

“Yeah. It comes in loads of flavours and it’s basically vapour.”

“That doesn’t sound as bad as I thought,” Layla admits.

“Yeah. I also don’t use it as much.” The others hear some noise coming from Grace’s background.

“Babe!” Jake calls out. “I got the Maggi you wanted.”

“On a call,” Grace points out to him, face pointed away from the screen. “But thank you!”

“Girls?” He asks.

Grace nods. “You wanna come and say hi?”

Jake pops up behind Grace. Hands coming to rest on her shoulders, massaging them. “Hey guys!” He chirps with a big smile on his face.

“Hi Jake!” The three say in unison.

“Sorry to interrupt your catch up. This one,” he points to Grace, pressing a kiss on her shoulder. “Has been wanting Maggi for a while now.”

Heidi snorts. “You say Maggi weird.”

“What do you mean?” He asks, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“I think it’s your accent.” Layla chuckles. “We don’t say Maggi like that. I guess it’s a kiwi thing.”

“This is how you pronounce it. Maggi.” He tells them. He stresses the g’s differently; it comes out as ‘ma-jeee’.

“No no. It’s Maggi,” Susan states. She pronounces it like the name ‘Maggie.’

“I’m pretty sure it’s not,” he tells them.

“I’m gonna Google it right now,” Heidi tells them, she fiddles with her phone and the rest wait for a couple of minutes as she raises the speaker of her phone to her ear. “Shit. He’s right.”

“Ha!” Jake grins. “It’s a Swiss brand. They pronounce it the way I do.”

“Well, there are more Indians than Kiwis. So by majority, we’re right,” Layla quips.

“Can’t argue with that,” he laughs. “I’m gonna go do the dishes. See you guys later.” He waves and walks off the frame.

“So, how’s everything going with you two?” Heidi asks Grace.

“Good. He’s actually trying to actively not game the whole evening. He’s been present with me and all. It’s going well. We went to his high school football field two days ago and It’s was nice to be under the moon, just talking.”

“Good.” Susan breathes out.

“He also fingered me right there in the open. There was no one there but still,” Grace grins proudly.

“Speaking of fingering,” Layla clears her throat. “Harry fingered me the other day and I squirted.”

“No way!” Heidi exclaims, but quickly quietens down muttering out an apology to the others on the train. “Spill!” She whispers.

“So we did it in front in a mirror, so I was watching him and his fingers-“

“I love watching myself when I have sex. It’s so,” Susan kisses her fingers. “The sex is good because of it.”

“I wasn’t really looking at myself though. Just him and the way his fingers moved and I’ve had quite a few orgasms before. I don’t know if it’s because of that but I just felt this pressure, like I needed to pee and I just orgasmed. It wasn't very cool either. It was just a few drops, like when you accidentally sneeze pee a little.”

“And?” Grace prompts.

“I was just super tired later. Everything was super sensitive down there after. I freaked out a little thinking that he came to the conclusion that I peed or something.”

“What did he do?” Heidi asks.

“He thought it was super hot. He was very smug about it an-“

“Of course he did. Probably did wonders to his man ego,” Susan chuckles.

“I also managed to rip out the necklace from his neck. He was in dude heaven because of his job well done,” she laughs and the others join in too.

Another rectangle pops up and situates itself at the bottom of Layla’s screen. Ramya smiles at them.

“Hi! What did I miss?” She asks.

“Harry finger banged Layla and made her orgasm so hard that she squirted and ripped the chain he was wearing,” Grace laughs.

“Oh wow!” Ramya giggles. “Might have to text him for advice. Need all the tips I can get so I can have the ladies crawl back with me.”

“Shut up. You literally have sex until one of you taps out. With dudes it's over after he comes. Like if Jake comes too soon, he fingers me but he’s the only guy that’s ever done that. The other dudes I slept with just come and collapse without a care about you,” Heidi explains.

“Not Harry. I literally have to push Harry away when he’s going down on me,” Layla says with a smug face.

“Lucky bitch. You lucked out with a great partner with your first,” Susan grumbles.

“Hey. It’s not my fault that you decided to have sex when you were sixteen and your ex didn’t know what he was doing,” she laughs.

“That’s why you sleep with women. You literally will not have any of these problems,” Ramya adds.

“Or, you be like me and wait till marriage.” Heidi chirps in.

“It’s okay, Suz. At least our horrible experiences taught us what we like and don’t,” Grace steps in trying to reassure Susan.

“Thank fuck for that,” Susan breathes out. “Ey, Ramya, what'd you wanna talk about, hmm?”

“Oh yeah. That,” she sighs.

“Oh shit. What’s wrong?” Asks Heidi.

“Is everyone alright?” Layla questions.

“Yeah yeah. Everyone is fine and all. Do you guys remember the poetry slam gigs I go to every weekend?”

Grace nods, prompting Ramya to continue.

“Well… There were these couple of people who kept showing up regularly and naturally we became friends over time. They’ve been inviting me to a kickback they go to as a group at their friends house and I tagged along there..” She trails off.

“Oh no. They didn’t force you to take drugs, did they?” Heidi asks, sitting up straight.

“No. No. You know I don’t do that. I just awkwardly sat with a coke and a packet of Kurkure while they were doing hookah. So, the person who conducts it, her name is Krishna. She’s an architect and she’s just this gorgeous person you know. She’s this hard core queer activist, she is a professional kuchipudi dancer, and she’s very humble. Doesn’t talk much but when she does open her mouth… so much substance comes out you know,” she sighs dreamily.

“So… basically me. Only intelligent things come out of my mouth when I talk,” Heidi pipes in.

“Please… you are such a chatterbox,” Susan says, making Heidi gasp and look at her offensively.

“I’m simply injecting charm in the flat, Ms. I sleep all day,” Heidi nudges Susans shoulder playfully, making them all laugh.

“Ramya, go on,” Grace urges as the laughter dies down.

“She’s just so aargh. Like I’ve never met something that fascinating. I like her a lot,” Ramya says.

“Do you like her or do you like the idea of her?” Layla questions.

“Both. I’ve been crushing on her quite hard and she came over to my house, along with her friends, when my parents were at work and we somehow ended up in the kitchen and I just kissed her.”

“Shit. When was this?” Susan asks.

“Three weeks ago,” Ramya answers, face flushing a soft pink.

“Does Meghana know?” Heidi inquiries.

“Yes. I um, I was so guilty that I told her and um… She um,” Ramya’s voice breaks.

“Oh, honey. Are you two seperat-”

“No,” Ramya, interrupts Grace.

Layls’s AirPods go off in her ear, indicating the low battery percentage. She immediately pulls them off her ears and slots them into the case, turning back the attention to the screen promptly.

“Meghana says she wants a break for a while,” Ramya continues. “She wasn’t mad or anything. She’s just sad.”

“What’s going on with Krishna?” Layla arches her brow.

“She seems to be pretty interested in getting together with me but…” Ramya trails off again.

“But what’s the matter?” Heidi probes.

“I’m just scared that I’ll have to choose and I don’t know.”

“Babe, we’re so sorry that you’ve found yourself in this confusing situation,” Grace coos.

Heidi pipes up. “Yeah, Ramya. I mean we’re all just figuring it all out right. Mistakes are bound to happen.”

“I don’t want to choose,” Ramya states.

“What do you mean?” Layla inquires.

“Why can’t I love both Meghana and Krishna?”

“Like you want the two of them to be in your life or like…” Susan prompts with her brows raised.

“Well, I think I might be polyamarous. I’m not just saying things because I can’t choose. But I’ve been the kid who had so much love to give to others. I’ve tried the monogamy route with Meghana and you guys know, it’s something I don’t side with. Meghana gets jealous when I talk or flirt with others but I’ve never really cared when she does it, even if the flirting leads to more. So yeah, I know you bois don’t agree with-“

“Just because we don’t side with something doesn’t make us any less proud and you any less loved,” Grace reassures.

“Yes, bitch. Go be yourself unapologetically. That’s all we want for you,” Layla chimes in.

“You have no idea how happy we were that you’ve come to this conclusion,” Susan adds and Heidi nods in agreement.

“Thanks ladies.” Ramya wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “I was just scared you guys would be disappointed in me.”

“Never. But it doesn’t make what happened with Meghana right. Maybe try apologising for hurting her feelings,” Layla says softly.

“Yeah. I think I just might and tell her that I might be poly also.”

Layla notices something moving and finds a paper airplane flying into her room and landing softly at the foot of her bed.

“Layla, what are you smiling at?” Ramya asks.

“Oh. Sorry. Harry just sent me a paper plane. Sorry, I’ll read it later,” she tells them sheepishly.

“Um no! Go open it!” Heidi urges.

“No no. I'm spending time with you al-

“Just go open it and read it to us will you. We didn’t know he sent you messages in paper aeroplanes,” Grace breathes.

“Yeah. We’ve been doing that a while.”

“This is so much better than texting. Honestly, it’s so absurd that the one random person she mastrubated happened to live right next door, that too with a bedroom window facing each other,” Ramya chuckles.

“Yeah. What are the odds,” Layla agrees, face flushing with warmth.

“Yeah. Now go read the letter out for us,” Susan demands.

“Okay okay.” Layla grumbles, putting her phone down on the mattress, that makes the other see her fan whirring in the ceiling. She crawls back in place after she gets the paper airplane unfolding it hastily.

Will you be able to come over and spend the night with me??

You won’t be here for five days and I just want a good cuddle that’ll keep me going that long.

I’ll even throw in a shoulder massage and let you scratch my back to help you doze off.

Pleaseeeeeeeee…

xox

“He’s just um,” she smiles, as she picks up her phone, looking at the expectant faces of her friends. “He wants me to spend the night with him because I'm going to be away for a week.”

“Aiyo! How precious!” Heidi squeaks, with her hand on her chest.

“Go on then. We’ll catch up later,” Grace says.

“No no. I’ll stay until we’re done,” Layla tells them.

“Bitch, go!” Ramya and Susan speak in unison.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll go once Ramya’s done.”

“I’m telling Meghana and Krishna that I’m poly and asking them if that’s something of a deal breaker for them. If it is, then, I might be sad and mope around but I’m sure I’ll find some girl that’s okay with it. If it’s not, then, let’s see what happens. Happy?” Ramya finishes quickly.

“Very,” Layla smirks.

“Now go and cuddle that poor boy,” Heidi says with a giant smile on her face.

////

“Do you really have to go?” He mumbles, with a childish pout.

“Yeah,” Layla chuckles, tucking her face in the crook of his neck.

These are Harry’s favourite types of mornings. When he wakes up to see his sweet girl deep in slumber beside him. She woke up with a jerk today and rolled over to his side, and he took that as an opportunity to ink some kisses on her skin. Secretly, he prefers morning sex. As much as Layla pouts to go brush her teeth beforehand, there’s something about the lazy, uncoordinated, unhurried gentleness of it all. He noticed that she was very reactive and sleep warm in the mornings, from having burrowed under the covers all night long. That’s how she ended up on top of him now, catching their breaths, basking in their post-coital bliss. Both bodies covered in a sheen of sweat they managed to work up. Harry found having her full weight on him to be comforting, like having his personal weighted blanket that was warm - her ice cube feet and hands being the only cons.

He sighs heavily, the hand that was not holding onto the meaty part of her thigh came to scratch her scalp. She mewls in response, feeling the tip of his fingers drawing circles, right behind her ear. “It’s just that… it’s your first Halloween and it just sucks that we’re not going to be spending it together.”

“Har,” she props her head up, so she can look him in the eyes. “Please don’t make me feel guilty for wanting to experience things.”

“I didn’t mean for that-“

“No, listen to me. I’ve dreamed of going to New Orleans ever since I watched the Princess and the Frog. We got to planning the trip, way before I booked my plane tickets for spending time with Auntie and Uncle, I just knew that Halloween and New Orleans together were right up the things I love. I mean think of me going cemetery tours at this time of the year and watching the Halloween parade at the French Quarter. Plus, the food. Ever since Earl and I made that gumbo from his wife’s recipe book - I was in love. I would love for you to join us. I really do. I had so much fun at the Smoky Mountains and Vermont but we’ve booked this months in advance.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty and take away from an experience you’ve been wanting to be a part of. It’s just that…” he trails off looking off to the side.

“What is it?” Layla asks, hands coming to cup his cheek, thumbs moving back and forth on his cheeks. “Talk to me, babe.”

“The grill bar downtown is hosting a horror movie trivia contest and I just thought about how much fun we would have. With you as my partner, I’m sure that coupon gift has our names on it. And there’s the town’s fall fair in Chapel Hill. It sucks that you’re not here, that's all,” he tells her. His accent was much thicker with his sleep raspy drawl, it never failed to make Layla melt.

“How about we have a trivia contest of our own? We could do it with Mitch and Sarah when we FaceTime again. We could do boys versus girls or couple versus couple. It could be fun,” she proposes.

“We could, I guess,” he replies, warily.

“Why do I have a feeling this is just not about the trivia contest?” She sighs, pushing a brown ringlet that stuck to his forehead because of the sweat.

“I just stupidly thought that we’d spend all our time together because you’ll be leaving in a soon,” he mumbles.

“It’s not stupid. I do really want to spend all my time with you too,” she reassures him. “I promise once I’m back from this trip, I’m all yours.”

“I’m sorry that I’m going to be leaving soon,” she continues. “I told you this before, let’s take it one day at a time, yeah?”

He nods. “I’m going to miss you so much, baby.”

“I’m gonna miss you too,” she coos, as she closes the distance between their lips.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

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ebenrosetaylor · 2 years

Photo

Gift for @hartro-owns-my-heart-ro !!! I drew their stellar firma designs in my own style as a part of the GYA MAP’s winter art exchange! I loved working with their designs and I want to take some of their Hartro design and add it to my own :^3

[IMAGE ID: Traditional illustration of David 7(he/she/they), Trexel Geistman (he/him), Hartro Piltz (she/her), and IMOGEN (she/they), using pen, colored pencil, and gold stickers. Behind David, Trexel, and Hartro is a solid yellow background and a golden halo behind their heads. All illustrations are bordered by a shiny gold sticker, shaped in an arch like a religious icon.

David 7 is a black clone with a purple undertone and two antennae that fade into purple at the tips. They also have a black afro and long floppy ears. Their onesie is baggy, purple, pink, and cyan. There is a zipper down the center of their chest and blue cuffs at the neckline and each wrist. David is looking upwards with their left hand on their cheek and right hand balled gently in front of their chest.

Trexel is a white man with many freckles and blue hair, visible on his arm, hand, chin, upper lip, eyebrows, and head. The hair on his head is swept to one side and shaved on the other. Trexel is wearing a yellowish orange shirt with a pink star studded belt and salmon colored star shaped glasses. He also has ear piercings and long dangling bracelets that have levitating stars and shapes hanging from them. He is holding a triangle martini glass with a stick with a fruit stuck through it. Trexel has one hand raised to his face and his mouth open, the "evil anime woman laugh" pose, and lines showing his laughter beside his face.

Hartro is a brown woman with many freckles and brown curly hair, dyed pink at the ends and pulled up into a bun. Her eyes are blue and orange, the whites of them colored in with a solid color. She is wearing mismatched earrings, a heart shaped necklace, blue colored nails, pink crop top and a purple jacket. Her hands are folded together with her chin resting on them. Black squiggles are radiating off of her head, and she's giving a serious expression.

Imogen is a light blue AI with long, silver hair. She has one eye covered with her hair, with sparkles of different shapes underneath it. She is wearing two earrings, one with a happy face and one with a sad face. Their collared shirt is purple with star shaped buttons. They are grinning broadly, and their long white hair is poofing out to fill the entire picture. END ID]

#stellar firma #david 7 #Trexel Geistman #hartro piltz #I.M.O.G.E.N.#eben art #not my designs #Religious iconography #artists on tumblr #sketchbook #traditional art #alien #android

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bunnimew · 2 years

Text

Kiss and Make Up

Rating: T Fandom: Rise of the Guardians Relationship: Jack Frost/Pitch Black Tags: Does what it says on the tin, pranks gone wrong, Or right??, Fluff, Crack

Summary: Jack really should have known better by now. That doesn't stop him from trying.

Alternatively- An excuse to insert one of the most ridiculous concept arts for Pitch I've ever seen into a fic. xD

On AO3 here.

Inspiration for this goes to @spookifrost @askmyname and @madam--mark for the conversations in the rotg discord.

PLS ENJOY :D

“Jack.”

“No.”

Jack was having none of it. Staff still in hand, he crossed his arms and faced away from his lanky tower of a partner to look over the expanse of ice below. Even decades beyond that whole ‘overthrow the Guardians’ stunt, Antarctica still remained their place. To be alone or to hash out their ugly feelings. Jack knew Pitch would eventually find him here, but still.

It wasn’t fair.

“Jack, please. I think you’re overreacting.”

Jack heard the footsteps of Pitch’s soft approach behind him and looked away to the other side.

“Probably, but I’m allowed! You did it again!”

“I did it again?!” Jack imagined Pitch had his arms thrown up in the air from his tone, but he wasn’t about to look and confirm it. “I think you mean you did it again! I was merely the victim of yet another one of your pranks!”

“And you fucked it up!”

“Excuse me? Jack I’m literally standing here in the cold with absolutely nothing protecting my head now because you successfully pulled off what you intended to! I’m still impressed you managed to do it without waking m—”

“Onyx helped.”

“—That would explain it.” Jack heard the slide of Pitch’s hand over his head where there used to be full raven locks always artfully blown back. His eyes began to dart over in the man’s direction when he heard him sigh. “Again, can you explain why you’re mad at me for this?”

“You weren’t—!” Jack started, then lowered to a grumble, crossing his arms tighter. “You weren’t supposed to make it look good. It was supposed to be funny. You made it look good. Again!”

Indeed, after Pitch had absorbed the shock of no longer having a head of hair, courtesy of his imp of a boyfriend that had been seated on his chest that morning with a shaver, he’d simply gone over to the mirror in their bedroom, pointed out and fixed a spot on the back of his neck that Jack had missed, and gotten himself dressed. He’d pulled out a different robe from somewhere, one with a high collar and gold accents and damn it all to hell if he didn’t look like some evil sorcerer of the night.

A hot evil sorcerer of the night.

Jack felt his face heating up and jerked back when Pitch snuck his way into view. The asshole even had some stupid simple ear cuff thing on one side and subtle eye makeup to pull the whole look off. Jack wasn’t laughing. That was the problem. Jack was supposed to be The Best at pranks and jokes and all he wanted to do was make out with his unfairly attractive goth wizard.

Pitch was smirking now, though it was a bit strained.

“Why is that bad? I personally rather enjoy being attractive to the man I love.”

Oh sure. Now he was gonna be sweet on top of it. Jack huffed. “Yes. And you definitely don’t need to— to do anything extra for it— I’m attracted. But fuck, Sugar!” He held out his hand and began listing on his fingers, “I drew eyebrows on you, and that just made that smirk of yours more powerful. I dyed your hair green, fucking green! And you rocked that somehow. The black sheep onesie was too cute to live. And I’m sure you haven’t forgotten about that purple robe with the feathers…”

“Mm, that was a fun three days…” Pitch recalled fondly.

“My point!” Jack cut him off right there, “is that this isn’t how pranks are supposed to go. I just wanted to see you look silly! Have a laugh! Maybe you try to— To..! ... I dunno.”

“Curse your name? Chase you out?” Pitch had his arms folded now too, still not looking angry or all that incensed about his whole appearance changing overnight, but perhaps a bit offended. “Hold it forever against you? Sounds more appropriate for the rabbit.”

Jack quickly shook his head. “No. No, I don't want that. Don’t want you to be like that.” He bit his lip, and met those silvery gold eyes. “I guess I was thinking more… Like. Care about it? Try to get me back? Something… silly? I know it’s stupid…” Most of Jack’s anger had dissipated at that point. Truly it wasn’t Pitch’s fault, and he knew Pitch was actually being really understanding and patient to let Jack just be himself and have his fun from time to time.

But the fun wasn’t as fun if Pitch just went with it and moved on like it didn’t matter. Alternatively, smacking Pitch in the face with a loaded snowball seemed like the cheap way to get the reaction he wanted.

“It’s not stupid,” Pitch announced after a beat, lowering his arms. “You’re the Guardian of Fun after all. You want to be silly. You want someone to be silly with.”

Jack felt himself pouting. Yeah that kinda hit the nail on the head, and hearing out loud…

“I can be silly,” Pitch announced, cutting off his thoughts and standing tall. Jack looked at him, utterly unconvinced. There was nothing silly about the proud, attractive man displayed before him, ready for Jack to hook his staff around his neck and pull him down for a kiss.

Jack opened his mouth to protest, but Pitch held out a finger and melted into his shadow.

Slowly the shadows began to move, spreading across the snow until there was more black than white on the plateau they were standing on. A massive, smokey form was building itself up in front of Jack, monstrous as it grew a head as tall as Jack’s entire body.

If Jack weren’t already very well acquainted with Pitch and his brand of shapeshifting, he would have run screaming.

Right up until Pitch added the finishing touches. One at a time, two gray circles popped into place where eyes would be and a matching swoop below them. Like a very poorly drawn smiley face. The big bad shadow creature was smiling at him.

“See, I can be silly.” Pitch’s voice was echoey and deep, but undeniably the same man that had been human shaped just seconds ago. An inky arm extended towards him and Jack was greeted by the ghost-like touch of shadow against the side of his face. “Right? Come now, this can’t possibly look good. Only silly.”

Jack’s smile was instant and wide, a laugh catching in his throat as he stared at the ridiculous face his boyfriend made literally just for him. Fuck. Pitch always had taken ‘go big or go home’ to a new level, and it was all for him.

“Yeah,” Jack snickered, “yeah okay, that’s silly.” He leaned into Pitch’s shadow hand and kept his gaze on those flat, lifeless gray blobs. “But I still kind of want to kiss you.”

The mass of shadow chuckled, though the eyes and mouth didn’t move at all. Just as quickly as it had come, the black sank back down and Pitch reappeared, bald, smiling, and with a much more solid hand holding Jack’s cheek.

“Nothing says a kiss won’t make it any less silly,” Pitch murmured before dipping down to close the distance between their lips.

Jack threw his arms around Pitch’s shoulders and hummed delightedly into the kiss. Maybe he wouldn’t ever get Pitch riled up for one of his pranks, but he decided he wouldn’t trade it for anything if it meant kisses as sweet and silly as this.

#thebunni #rise of the guardians #rotg #rotg fanfic #rise of the guardians fanfic #jack frost #pitch black #blackice #blackicerotg #blackice rotg

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treenissanderssidesstuff · 3 years

Text

Snippet: Soft Serve

Ship: Intruality

Takes place at the same time as: "Sore"-bet

Close, but not close enough.

Janus had already retired that night. Something about early to bed and early to rise self-care. Logan was the next to follow in the middle of movie three to abide his strict schedule. He side-eyed Patton as he walked away… they still weren’t on speaking terms.

At the end of movie three, Roman and Virgil left together and Patton wasn’t at all jealous of the way they leaned against each other throughout the movies, just like they always were now and he definitely didn’t notice that neither of them reached toward him for a goodnight hug like they used to do every night.

He shouldn’t have expected anything else really.

This was his own fault.

And now he was alone.

Patton wrapped another blanket around his shoulders as movie night tapered off. Everyone had joined tonight and it was… it was nice. To have everyone around, even if… even if no one really forgave him yet. The only person talking to him recently was Janus He apparently didn’t notice or didn’t care about the tension in the room, almost floating above it all with a smile on his face as he sat close to Patton throughout the first two movies as if everything was fine. At least, until the feeling of the couch sinking next to him drew his attention away from the light show.

He had almost forgotten Remus was there. Remus made an appearance with Janus and Patton had both surprised he was in clothes at all and enamored by his kraken onesie with extra pose-able limbs he mainly used that night to poke Virgil or Logan at random increments. Most surprising of all however was how quiet Remus was throughout the whole night, only occasionally throwing in the occasional inappropriate quip that only drew attention for seconds at a time at most. Otherwise he kept to himself, staying at the edge of the group as he sat on the floor next to the couch rather than on it.

“Well Patootie, what’s next?”

“Huh?”

“You’re still up and I’m still up, so how about another one?”

“Uh sure thing-“ Patton said, trying to bite down the pet name that had become turn of phrase. He didn’t have any kiddos. They were all adults and didn’t need him to tell them what to do.

Remus rose an eyebrow when Patton passed him the remote. He had a funny look on his face as he did it too, almost amused, but there was something more in there. Still, he pressed some buttons, flipping through to something and surprised Patton all over again. It wasn’t horror or lewd, just something that looked like a crappy off-brand D grade super hero movie with terrible acting and even worse effects.

Honestly it was exactly the kind of thing Patton would have chosen by himself when the others weren’t around to judge him for it. The pack bonding instinct was strong and Patton felt the need to watch the movies that no one else would. Still, there was something almost charming about things that were such terrible quality, they didn’t take themselves quiet so seriously. It was easy to laugh when the production was laughing at itself.

It was true that night too. For the first time that night, Patton felt light. Giggles and chortles and snorts came freely between them as they mutually commented and cooed at the earnest attempts of the actors and were surprised into laughing fits all over again at the downright awful props and costuming. Their budget must have been mainly rubber bands and chewed bubble gum from the way they pulled things together.

Still, with the atmosphere relaxing, Patton found himself relaxing with it as everything got a little fuzzy.

“Need a cuddle?” Remus asked, surprising Patton for the third time that evening while opening his arms in invitation.

He was beginning to realize that maybe he didn’t know much about the duke at all.

“You give cuddles?”

He shrugged. “Janny gets cold too. We do this all the time.”

“You do?”

“You don’t?”

“I…” Patton let the sentence trail off, not sure how to answer.

It used to be common place to share hugs and cuddles and touches between them, but that had been happening less and less recently as things became more serious. Everyone was angry, everyone was tense. In his own odd way, Remus was a breath of fresh air every time he entered the room. Patton had watched more than once as he made a lewd or dark joke in the middle of the others fighting and completely sidetracked whatever hurtful thing someone was about to say.

“How’d you know I’m still cold?” Patton asked, his fingers playing with the hem of one of his blankets.

“Call it an educated guess,” Remus said with a smirk. “Well?”

Patton hesitated, but only a moment more before he scooted closer and leaned into Remus’ open arms. He was so warm. The duke began to run warm hands up and down Patton’s arms and he found himself melting.

“Careful or I’ll fall asleep,” Patton said, feeling himself lean more and more against the warm body behind him.

“It’s alright Patsy, I gotcha.”

#sanders sides #remus sanders #patton sanders #intruality #fanfiction #ts fanfic #snippet #typed on my phone #treeni #treeni writes #romantic or platonic

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primasveraas-writing · 3 years

Text

As Family Does - SWR

In snippets, Hera experiences the ups and downs of motherhood, and all the wonderful relationships her son has with family near and so very far away.

WORD COUNT: 2206

XXX

Kanan

A sharp, desperate cry, and Hera’s world changed forever.

Jacen Syndulla was a testament to his parents’ strength long before he came into the world. He emerged bloodied, during battle and war, but the galaxy suddenly recentered itself around this tiny, helpless being.

Hera should have been used to this kind of change by now- in less than a year, her whole life had been broken and reformed in more ways than she could count.

And yet- so much of it was good, Hera thought, as the squirming baby was placed on her chest. This love she felt was so familiar, after carrying her son for 9 months, after loving his father, after being family and foster mother to Ezra and Sabine. She felt it in every cell of her body, so much that it was hard to breathe.

“You did it, Hera,” Zeb said, sounding rather choked up. Hera nodded, numb to the rest of the galaxy, save for her child in her arms, and realized that there were hot tears on her face. She sobbed, her whole body convulsing, and that hurt, but she didn’t care. She’d faced greater pain and been awarded less joy at the end of it all.

The baby wailed again, and Hera gasped- the boy’s eyes had flown open, revealing a clear, vibrant blue. His skin was tinted green and his features were already sharp, sure hallmarks of his mother’s identity but his eyes- they were Kanan’s eyes.

She never thought she’d see them again, and she sobbed harder. Even with the hormone changes that came with pregnancy, it had been a long time since Hera had cried this much. She felt Zeb’s hand on her shoulder and the love in the air. She cried tears of happiness, as new parents do, and tears of sorrow because Kanan wasn’t there to meet his son, nor Ezra to meet his baby brother.

But still- she knew Kanan loved her and he loved their son. She knew Ezra would too, when he came home. Their love was still with her, even if they were not.

That would be enough for now. Hera had her son and her beloved’s eyes, and the love needed to carry her through this and darker days.

Chopper

Hera knew- despite her avoidance of the fact- that Jacen couldn’t stay with her forever. She wasn’t the only one in the Rebellion with a young child, but she was the only general with a newborn. Somewhere in the galaxy, there had to be a safe place for her son, and she would find it. But for now, she kept him the best she could, even if it would only be for the first months of his life.

The fear and the exhaustion of war were heightened by bringing an infant into it. They threatened Hera in her lowest moments, but then there was Zeb, putting Jacen back to sleep in the middle of the night before she could get out of bed, or Kallus quietly filling out her rising piles of paperwork when she was too busy or too tired to do it herself.

It was okay- a new challenge, a new routine, and an ever-constant show of their resilience. She witnessed love and community in all parts of her life, from her kid pilots offering to babysit, to the Organas sharing some old baby toys and clothes. Even the most unlikely of figures rallied around her, and for that, Hera was grateful. Sometimes, she would even have time to herself.

One of these calm afternoons was spent completing mission reports while Jacen slept, which Hera boldly presumed would last long enough for her to catch up on everything she had to do. As soon as she dared to hope this, however, a mechanical whirr indicated the presence of Chopper- and serenity rarely, if ever, followed him.

Where is the new one? He asked, disregarding the fact that Hera was very clearly busy.

“The new one- you mean Jacen?”

He’s new. Her droid was very matter-of-fact about this statement.

“He’s a baby, Chop,” Hera amended, and the astromech beside her warbled in disagreement.

He has not been around very long. He has not done many things either. Therefore, he is new.

“Whatever you say.”

Chopper didn’t humor her further, only groaned in complaint, and waited for a response. Hera rolled her eyes, but obliged. “He’s down for his afternoon nap. Same as yesterday. Why?”

She received no reply, other than a broken lament that the little one took too long to recharge, then her oldest companion rolled off and out of sight. Hera sighed and turned back to her work.

Later, Hera glanced at the chrono and readied herself for her son’s cries, but the Ghost remained silent and lonely. She crept down the room towards the pilot’s quarters, the door still open so that she might reach Jacen faster. Perhaps she would find him still asleep, and she could clean or shower with the extra few minutes to herself.

She instead discovered her baby wriggling happy on his cot, Chopper looming over him. One of his mechanical arms was extended, dangling Jacen’s favorite tooka in front of him. Chopper made gentle sounds, and Jacen grinned up at him.

So Chopper had a heart, beyond the occasional moment of mercy. Hera hid her mouth with her hand, ignoring the wetness in her eyes, and watched the scene from the doorway.

Zeb

It might not have been fair to blame a baby for picking favorites before he could talk, but Hera still shook her head as Zeb passed back Jacen, who wailed the second he left the Lasat’s arms. Zeb chuckled at the reaction, scratching at the back of his neck, but shrunk instantly at Hera’s glare

“Aw, com’on,” Zeb tried while Jacen furiously kicked against Hera. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. Nobody holds a candle to ya, Hera.” He finished the statement rather ungracefully, as Hera relinquished Jacen, plopping him back in Zeb’s arms. As soon as she did, Jacen giggled, clutching at Zeb’s fur and gurgling happily, his woes entirely forgotten.

“You’d think he’d be a little more grateful to the one who feeds him,” Hera said dryly, regarding Jacen with her hands on her hips. Zeb shrugged, looking vaguely sheepish.

“I’m just softer than ya, that’s all,” Zeb assured her, snuggling Jacen against his chest. When Hera raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed in surprise.

“Lasat kits like to sleep on their parents,” he explained, “but some of us like to say that they prefer the Lasat with the longest and softest fur.”

“Well, you certainly have me beat there,” Hera conceded, and Zem hummed in agreement, rocking Jacen in his arms. He babbled cheerfully, and Zeb laughed again. “Maybe nobody holds a candle to Uncle Zeb, either,” she said, her tone hushed, and Zeb froze. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

Zeb didn’t say anything for a long moment, then he shifted Jacen to one side and slung his free arm around Hera’s shoulders. She leaned into the embrace, and Zeb pulled her closer.

“We’re family,” he said gruffly, his voice suspiciously thick. “Of course I’ll take care of you both.”

The admonition sent warmth flooding through Hera’s chest, and she sniffed. That was what she’d count on through it all- her family and their love, unfaltering.

Sabine

Each of Jacen’s milestones- his first smile and wave and babble of a word- came with the reminder that Kanan wasn’t there to witness them too. Her son had just started to lift his own head when the anniversary of his father’s death passed, and Hera realized with grief weighing on her heart that even the idea of Kanan would be unfamiliar to Jacen for the first years of his life.

Her sorrow at the fact that “Dada” wouldn’t be among Jacen’s collection of first words (which included “Mama,” “ship,” “no!” and “Chop”) was expressed to Sabine during an exhausted and teary conversation. Together, they concluded that Kanan would have made a great dad, if he didn’t collapse from the stress while doing it, and the two women held each other until the talk turned back to recollecting fond memories at laughter at what once was.

In one of the biggest shocks of Hera’s life, the grief became lighter and easier to carry. She knew it would never leave her, but at least she didn’t bear it alone.

When Jacen turned one, she declared it a happy occasion and resolved not to spend too long dwelling on those not present to celebrate with them. There were still wistful smiles and comforting hugs, but as luck would have it, she had Zeb, Alexsandr, Rex, and Sabine all with her to mark the occasion, and that was a happy blessing on its own.

Jacen destroyed the small cake Alexsandr had made for him with pudgy fists, smearing it all over his face and onesie. Hera laughed, trying not to think of the possibility of finding uneaten food in Jacen’s diaper again, and their small family celebrated, and it was good.

They exchanged presents before everyone had to return to their respective duties. Mother and son received a collection of toys and bigger clothes, and Hera was even gifted a nice bottle of wine for her to enjoy after surviving a year of motherhood.

At the end, when it was just her and Sabine sweeping crumbs off the floor of the galley, the young Mandalorian presented her a final gift. An intricately bound book, made from sketch flimsi and filled with page after page of illustrations. It told a story, in few words and in brilliant, dynamic colors, of a Jedi, a hero, on quests to make the galaxy a better place. The Jedi wielded a blue lightsaber, and although he could be grumpy, he was deeply loyal to his friends, and he always came in to save the day. His face was unmistakable, his demeanor kind and familiar.

“So Jacen can know his dad,” Sabine said, and her voice was carefully measured. “I never thought I’d illustrate a kid’s book.”

Hera had no words, so she threw her arms around Sabine instead, murmuring her thanks through her tears. Sabine accepted the hug, squeezing Hera just as tight, and they stayed that way for a long while.

Ezra

Jacen grew and grew until he no longer fit in her arms- or rather, he wiggled out of them every time Hera tried to pick him up. He started to beg to learn how to fly as the war drew to a close but it wasn’t until after the Battle of Endor that Hera felt the skies were safe enough for her son.

Sabine teased her that Jacen inherited his recklessness from both sides of the family. Hera couldn’t bring herself to disagree, but she looked around at her friends and family- Mandalorians and Lasats and spies and galactic heroes- and thought that her child’s thrill-seeking tendencies came more from his company rather than his blood.

The conclusion of the war didn’t mean the end of the fighting, but peace was at last on the horizon and her fellow rebels begun planning their lives in this new, free galaxy. Hera could be a mother full-time now, and not have to worry if each goodbye to her son would be her last.

She thought that this would mean fulfillment- and in many ways, it did. The galaxy was entering a new age, but there were too many things left behind for Hera to move on completely. Much of it, she would never get back- but for some, there remained hope of rescue.

She saw so much of Ezra in Jacen. His energy, for one, and his innocence. His optimism, too- Jacen was a happy baby and nothing short of an ebullient child. Hera and Kallus liked to joke that his smile could light up the galaxy. It was impossible, when gazing into Jacen’s blue eyes, not to see the hope and love of another boy who once looked to her as a mother. They had so much in common, these children of war, but their biggest similarity was those who loved them.

Sabine was the first one to teach her the bittersweet pride of a child leaving the nest, and she came to Hera again to tell her that she must go. Hera had fear and love and faith for her, but little surprise when Sabine promised to bring Ezra home. With a blessing and a plea to stay safe, she hugged Sabine tight and watched her set off into the galaxy again.

When evening fell, and Hera was alone again, Jacen approached his mother and snuggled into her arms. As much as she tried to protect her son, he always seemed to know when she was sad.

Hera didn’t think that she’d ever be complete without Kanan, without Ezra, without everyone she’d lost in a lifetime at war. But she was not alone, she knew- she had her son in her embrace and a family in every corner of the galaxy. That, for now, was enough, and she had hope that she would see them all again one day.

#hera syndulla #kanera #jacen syndulla #star wars rebels #swr #sw rebels #swr fanfic #kanera fanfic #sw rebels fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfic #sabine wren #zeb orrelios #rebels #rebels fanfic #star wars fanfiction #hera syndulla fanfic #fluff

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fakeloveaskblog · 2 years

Note

"--They should just forget about me and-” unfortunately virgil comes in and that with another combination of stuff, the message is cut off. I won't tell too much, it is private and their choice to share fully, but their mental health hasn't been too great lately. They wish they could see you and hug you both, lots. They love you lots. -2/2 🐌🕸

Remus and Janus were sitting on the carpet in front of the tv. The gremlin had also changed into his onesie by now. He was painting his crush's nail while telling them spooky ghost stories.

It seemed like the message had gotten lost in the demon void for a little while but the walls suddenly started to talk as the message finally got to them. Both of them jumped when the voice started to come out of nowhere.

Janus got a worried look on his face. That was Remy's voice. Remy telling him to forget them. He looked over to Remus who had a confused look on his face. His hand had frozen in the air, the nail polish was dripping down onto the carpet.

The message finished. The walls twisted back into how they normally looked. They glanced at each other before Remus went back to painting Janus' nails. His eyebrows had furrowed slightly.

"I hope Remy feels better soon" He mumbled out. He focused on their nails so he didn't have to look into their eyes.

"That does not sound like it is just a dip in mental health" Janus tried to pull their hand away but Remus held onto it.

"Well we do know their mood can kinda change on a whim. I mean like we've seen how they can suddenly get angry and then suddenly sad and all that. Maybe they were just feeling down when they sent the message? I wish we could go over and hug them. I think that would make them feel a bit better"

Janus tried to move his hand away again "Let go of me, please"

"Oh uhm sorry" Remus drew back from him "Sorry"

"This doesn't make sense" He ran his hands through his hair "Why would Remy want us to forget about them out of nowhere!? I can understand why they can't message or can't leave their apartment. It's probably my fault, with how I screwed up in front of Virgil. But why would they leap to This all suddenly!?"

Remus shrugged. He fiddled with the ring on his finger while looking away.

Janus glanced around the apartment and when he caught a glance of a dark shadow and heard low sounds coming from the corner, as if someone was spinning a web, he assumed it was you and moved closer so Remus wouldn't hear.

"I appreciate you wanting to keep Remy's problems private but please tell me if something- something more than Virgil's awful berating has happened. It- It doesn't make sense. Or I suppose suddenly being cast back into only regularly speaking to their ab- to Virgil could destroy their mental health but it doesn't make sense that they would suddenly want us to forget about them does it? I know Virgil doesn't want them to be with us but he didn't want that before either. Why aren't they just leaving the apartment while he's at work like they used to do? Something doesn't quite add up here"

They dragged in the sleeve of their onesie out of nervousness. Their eyes stuck onto a specific part of the floor. Their voice lowered even more.

"Unless Remy realized that they actually hate me after I hurt them by making an absolute fool of myself in front of Virgil and now they've decided they never want to see my stupid face ever again-" He lightly hit his hands against his head "No. Nope. Thinking like that isn't helping anyone. No. Bad brain"

Remus was glancing at him with an even more confused look. All he saw was Janus mumbling to a void and hitting himself.

"Please just tell me if something has happened to Remy" Janus sounded like he was nearly begging "More than the...the usual...You don't even have to tell me any details if you think that would cross their boundaries. You can just tell me vaguely if there is any particular reason you might think their mental health has plummeted or why they can't contact us at all aside from these demon messages. Please?"

It took a few seconds before he added.

"I already have this choking feeling in my chest that I'm not doing enough to help. If- If something else has happened to them and I'm over here doing nothing...I don't know what I'd do with myself"

#ask #thanks for the ask <3 #🐌🕸#janus sanders #sanders sides #catch me posting slower than usual to give the regulars time to catch up before shit hits the fan.

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imma-potatoo · 3 years

Note

Roman + interrogation as a sequal to the Remus + framed fic perhaps?

Holy shit this took a long time... It's hurt/comfort tho

@badthingshappenbingo

Send me a prompt with a character! No romantic prinxeity, r*mr*m, U!Janus or U!Logan please!

Masterpost Takes place after this fic

Warnings: blood, shouting, arguing, child abuse (in passing), mentions of death (in passing), swearing, crying (It's a baby), bolded text, U!Roman, not taking care of yourself?, ask to tag

Words: 4k

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Red Eyes

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It had been a mouth.

It had been a single mouth from when Patton opened the yellow side’s door and saw his new friend slaughtered beyond recognition. The door was still there. Blood still stained his carpet, dust collected on his items because they didn’t have the heart to pack his things away. His name became a word that was never said, never whispered, never hushed. But it was always thought. They couldn’t go a single day without imagining his smile, or his laugh, or how his scales gilded against his cheekbones with the smooth grace that shouldn’t be humanly possible.

He was beautiful. But beauty is often destroyed by people who process envy in their hearts.

Even now, as Patton tried to convince a cranky baby to eat his damn apple sauce, he still thought of the yellow side.

Patton let loose a heavy sigh as he put the bowl down with a click on the highchair. Anwir wouldn’t stop crying, the small side was letting loose heartbreaking sobs as he banged on the flimsy plastic tray, his face turned up in a sour expression.

Patton sniffled, his eyes clouded with tears and bright red from a round of crying a few hours ago. “C’mon kiddo… you gotta eat something! Growing snakes like you need food!” Patton’s pleas fell upon deaf ears as the child only cried harder. Patton huffed, playing with the full spoon in his hands. “Anwir…. please?”

The child didn’t even spare him a glance. Only screaming louder. Patton rested his head against the table, letting a few sobs escape as the hatchling screamed his heart out.

To be fair towards the cyan side, he hadn’t raised a child for a good two decades. Logan was the last toddler in the light household, and he was a lot easier to deal with than Anwir. Logan just wanted toast with a bit of Crofters on top of it. That was it. All he wanted. Anwir refused to eat anything that wasn’t up to his standard and this child was very picky. His food cannot be touching, absolutely no green beans, anything bitter was a no, not to mention his insisting that his food cannot be boiled under any circumstances.

Patton had completely collapsed to the table, the only sound being the baby’s cries and the occasional sniffle from him.

“Uhhh, you alright there popstar?” Patton raised his head, ears full of cotton as Anwir continued his protests, the right side of his face a bright red compared to his yellow scales, although the scales did have the occasional blue one mixed in with the buttercup color. Virgil stood in the doorway, phone in his hand. His eyes flickered momentarily to the baby, “What’s wrong with the child?”

Patton sighed, glasses fogged as he spared a glance to Anwir, “he won’t eat his food and has been crying for half an hour. I don’t know what to do! I tried giving him an orange!” Patton looked back to the screaming child in a Stitch onesie, “which he threw on the ground….”

Virgil huffed a small laugh as he snatched Anwir from the highchair, “Maybe he needs a nap.” Anwir was squirming in Virgil’s hold, bitter noises leaving the smaller side, “huh, that’s not…. Normal…”

Patton stood and walked next to Virgil, the two locked concerned eyes as they looked at deceit Anwir. “We need to get Logan,” Patton muttered under his breath as he bolted up the stairs to find the logical side.

Virgil bounced the tiny side while trying to quiet his tears, “sh, sh, it’s ok Anwir.” The purple side paced back and forth, eventually leaving the kitchen to take the side to the living room. Anwir was normally fussy, but not like this.

Virgil sat on the couch, placing the side on his lap, “What’s with you today?” Virgil bounced the ten-month-old on his leg as he waited for Logan and Patton to come back, humming the same lullaby that Ja- that he used for him.

Logan and Patton were back in less than five minutes, Logan looked like he was torn from his work (if the pencil behind his ear was any indication) Logan huffed a breath and looked at Anwir.

All of them had different ways to cope with his death. Patton threw himself in completely into caring for the newest member, even sacrificing his own health to tend to the child. Virgil locked himself in his room, only occasionally coming down to take care of Anwir while Patton was sleeping. Roman pretended everything was ok, the red side was always seen with his signature smile and witty comments. Logan dived into his work, hardly able to look at the new side. And Remus… no one knew what Remus was up to. Nor did they care, Remus was the entire reason he was gone.

Anwir hissed, hissing was a new thing, and he only did it when he was in pain. Logan raised an eyebrow, “Did he fall off the couch again?” grimacing at Patton’s disagreement.

“No, he’s been with me all morning… well! Roman did take him for a walk earlier!”

Logan nodded as he reached forward, unzipping the onesie that covered the scaled child. Tears leaked down Anwir’s face as the other three side’s eyes widened with horror and anger.

Bruises ran down the child’s ribs, colors of fuchsia, a deep puke yellow that was speckled underneath red splotches, followed by small cuts all over his chest. A single scale was ripped from its place. Streams of blood flowed down Anwir’s chest from the ripped out scale, it was close to his skin on the other half of his body. Meaning that a portion of skin was brought with the scale when it was torn out.

The three felt anger bubble in their stomachs. This wasn’t Remus. It couldn’t be Remus. Remus was locked away in the dark.

But here is the newest member of the family, with cuts and bruises covering his flesh. Eyes filled with tears and a look of betrayal. This child had trusted so much, wide eyes that wanted to learn everything, see everything, touch things that he was meant to leave alone. And now he was covered in blood and bruises. Just like Janus.

Anwir’s existence meant a tragic end for a friend. But it also meant a new chance. They loved Janus, but he had problems. He trusted little, he hid things, he put others' health before his own under the guise of doing his job. Anwir was a chance to make things right. And someone ruined it.

Patton gritted his teeth as Logan ran to get the medkit. Thoughts ran through his mind over who it could be. It wasn’t Virgil, Logan, or him. Roman wouldn’t do something like this… would he?

Logan started to bandage Anwir’s wounds, pressing a kiss to the child’s forehead between each bandage, causing the child to giggle as he reached for Logan’s glasses. Patton chewed on his lip before making his decision, sparing Virgil a glance. The purple side nodded as Logan fought the baby for his glasses back.

“Roman! Kiddo! Come down here!”

Angry footsteps were heard from upstairs. A door slamming only caused the baby to cry once again, Patton looked back towards Virgil and Logan.

Logan was chewing inside of his cheek, his eyes slightly glazed over with tears as Anwir screamed when the anti-septic hit his wounds. Virgil was pacing back and forth, unsure what to make of the situation.

It was a few seconds later when the boastful prince walked down the steps with annoyance, his feet dragging against the wooden steps and his breath heavy. Roman hit the last step and turned to face the father figure, “What?” Roman hissed through his teeth with a sneer.

Patton steeled his expression and drew a steady breath. “Logan, take Anwir to his room and then come back please.” The blue side nodded and picked up the crying child and carried him up the stairs. The cyan side noticed the glare that Roman gave the yellow child.

Patton locked eyes with Roman, his son, he raised Roman from the very second he split from the King. “Where did you take Anwir on your walk?”

Roman raised an eyebrow and leaned against the banister, “I took him to the forest in the imagination. He liked the squirrels.” Roman shifted his gaze over to Virgil, only to be met with cold eyes, “why do you ask padre?”

Patton drew a slow breath, he had to keep calm. “What did you and Anwir do on your walk?”

Roman furrowed his brows in thought, his posture was rigid, burning green eyes bore into the fatherly side, “I don’t think you need to know that, pops.”

Silence spread throughout the living room, Logan came back down but the quiet didn’t break. The clock ticked on the wall, filling the quiet room with an ear-shattering noise. Cyan, blue, and purple eyes bore into green ones. Time fell away as loud crying could be heard from the child’s nursery.

Patton sighed, “Vir-”

“I’ll get it, Patton,” Logan shot a dirty look towards Roman before he left the room.

The room stayed quiet for a few minutes. A treaty of stillness, before Patton broke it, “You killed him, didn’t you?”

Roman took his eyes off the carpeted floor, “Of course I didn’t! What a ridiculous accusation! I would never take Janice away from us!” Roman’s composure was growing sloppy, far too cheerful, his green eyes showed too much happiness for someone just accused of murder.

“You can drop the act dude. We saw what you did to Anwir.” The purple side stood stiff, his eyes glowing with hostility, “You can’t possibly think that we’re buying that ‘he did that to himself!’ when he can barely even walk yet.” His voice leaked the mocking tone as he took fast-paced steps to the red side, “ADMIT IT. YOU KILLED HIM. YOU KILLED JANUS.” Virgil was inches away from Roman’s face, his canines bared as he hissed his threat in the red side’s face

Roman pushed Virgil back, his facade not even wavering as the purple side stumbled, “NO! I didn’t fucking kill the snake!” he pushed his hair back into its position, combing back fly-aways. “I mean- Come on emo! Would I do such a thing?”

“We know what you did Roman!” Patton’s voice was cracking, tears filling his eyes, “We saw Anwir’s bruises! You were the only other one to be near him today! We kn-”

“Well, maybe you killed him! Huh! With all that guilt-tripping you do, I wouldn’t be surprised if you killed the asshole because he didn’t fit your “perfect family” I bet you put those bruises on the brat too!”

Patton choked on his voice, tears sprang to his eyes as he stumbled backward. “Wh-what?”

“Roman!” Virgil growled as the red side pushed down a smirk

“What?! If we’re going to be blaming the innocent here then we might as well look at someone who spent more time with Deceit than anyone else! Not to mention that he has been Anwir’s primary caregiver! He could have killed Janus and given Anwir the cuts when no one was around! There’s plenty of knives to rip out that scale too!” Roman could feel his pride building, his hubris starting to sour towards the clouds.

“Cuts?”

And like Icarus, Roman fell.

“Duh! He has like twenty cuts running down his chest.”

“Roman. We never mentioned him having cuts, let alone on his chest. Or that one of his scales was ripped out either” Virgil narrowed his eyes, he ground his tongue against his canine.

Roman faltered, “I-”

Patton wiped his eyes, “just admit it kiddo. You killed him.”

Roman blinked, he focused back on the carpet. Blinking as he realized what we had just admitted to. His crocodile tears melted away as he smiled and pulled himself higher. “Fine. I did it. I killed him.” Roman looked straight into Patton’s eyes, “Is that want you wanted?”

The red side started to pace back and forth, a manic grin spread on his face, “And you wanna know something? I would do it a million times! I would pay anything to see the fear spread into the “Great Janus Sanders” eyes again!” Roman breathed deep and let loose a small laugh, “You don’t get it… Janus was bad for Thomas! He’s a liar! Liars are never good! yoU JUST NEED TO SEE THAT!” Roman screamed, his voice carrying across the house, “I’M HIS HERO! I’M HIS HE-”

The thunk of a duffle-bag hit the bottom steps, landing right at Roman’s feet and stopping his lies. Roman looked up to see Logan at the top of the stairs, holding Anwir in his arms. The child was now dressed in a new onesie and now had a stuffed frog in his grip. Logan however had tears leaking steadily down his cheeks as he rubbed the child’s back in a soothing manner

Anwir was trying to give Logan his frog for his attempt to comfort, “Fra!”

“Frog.” Logan corrected the child without having to think of it as he descended the steps.

Logan stopped in front of Roman, “Your stuff is in the bag. Get out. I refuse to have a murderer in this household.

Roman blinked, mouth gaping open slightly, “Lo! C’mon nerd! You don’t mean that!” Roman reached forward to touch Logan on the shoulder, his expression turning sour when Logan backed up out of reach, “Loga-”

“Just go!” Anwir looked at Logan and brought his frog to his mouth as Roman grabbed the bag.

“And where am I gonna go?! Huh? Where Logan!?” Roman growled as his eyes flickered to the other two sides.

The blue side looked down to the child in his arms, “I don’t care. Go to the darks, you’re certainly close enough in your… tactics. Or go live in the imagination, you have an entire castle there” “Fra!” “Yes Anwir, frog.”

Roman furrowed his brows as he threw the bag over his shoulder. The door was slammed shut seconds later.

Logan rubbed his eyes as he walked up to the group, “Logan. You alright dude?” Logan looked up at Virgil.

The blue side nodded, “We need to go get Remus.” The other two mumbled agreements as they sunk out.

The four sides popped up in the dark side. True to its name, it was well, dark. Pictures were scattered everywhere. Virgil knelt, a small smile spreading to his face as he stared back at purple and green sides attempting to bake a cake for a yellow side’s birthday.

They continued down the hallway, Anwir clinging to Logan’s tie as they walked, his eyes growing heavy. They passed an orange door on their trek, covered in padlocks, the group exchanged looks but left it alone to continue to the living room.

The group of four made it to the living room. Remus sat on the floor, tears streaming down his face as he repeatedly pushed a needle through fabric. Over and over. Mumbling words under his breath as the needle drew the thread through yellow cotton.

Remus seemed to be working on a tapestry. It was large, almost the size of the entire living room, it was divided into different panels; eight total.

The first panel was complete. It consisted of a small child alone in a dark house, yellow scales spread on the otherwise featureless face of the main subject. His clothes were torn and slightly ragged as he covered his head, tears leaking down on the subject’s face. Dark shadows whispering in his ears.

In the second, the side seemed slightly older. His posture was less scared and more unsure as he helped a smaller child up, leading him somewhere. The smaller one was covered in red and a sickly green color, tears leaking down steadily. The yellow side was still young, maybe seven at the most, but it was clear that all he wanted to do was care for the green side. The green one had a face. Two red eyes filled with fear, lips curled into a cry as he reached for the side

In the third, the yellow figure was older, clearly, a teenager, and now had a long scar coming from his ear to his mouth. He was holding a purple blanket in his arms. Beside him walked the eccentric green figure, who was practically clinging to his arm in every step. The erratic green side had an ear to ear grin while they walked.

The next stood three figures. All adults. The yellow one in the center, green on his left, purple on his right. The two of them that had faces seemed happy, smiles on their faces as they looked at the yellow figure. They were proud. And happy too. But you could see with a few stitches of white thread, the hesitance in the purple one’s eyes was subtle but prevalent.

The next panel seemed to be the end of the happy tale. The yellow side was crumpled to the ground, the black shadows swarming the figure one again in bitter mockery of when they were a child. His clothes weren’t torn but wrinkled beyond repair as tears shone down his scales. Wine bottles scattered by his feet, his face a slight gray tone as the scales grew darker. In his hands, a striped gray sweater.

Remus was still sewing the sixth panel. His hair a mess as he rocked back and forth, tears flowing down his cheeks as he pushed the needle through the fabric. The entire tapestry was made of mainly yellow, black, green, and purple thread. With the occasional wisp of orange. Blood flowed down the green side’s fingers, picked from the needle, and stabbed raw from his repeated actions.

The shadows in the room downcasted on the side, the red gleam in his eyes glowing slightly as he continued his muttering. He didn’t even acknowledge the four new sides in the room, only continuing his swaying and muttering under his heavy breaths.

“Rem?” Virgil spoke softly, his voice hardly heard over Remus’s muttering.

The green side either ignored Virgil or just didn’t hear them as he continued to push the blood stained needle through the fabric

“Remus, kiddo?” Patton stepped forward, it was a small step, but his foot skimmed the edge of the tapestry. Patton took a step backward when the fabric was pulled roughly by the green side towards him.

Logan looked down towards the floor, multitudes of other sewing projects were thrown around. Mostly small stuffed snakes. Some were yellow, others teal or green, but there were hundreds of them. Logan set down Anwir, giving him a green snake to play with. “Stay.” “Bah!” “Thank you.”

Logan rose back up, taking careful steps towards Remus. The tapestry was sitting on his lap, meaning that his back was exposed and Logan could get to him without stepping on his project. Logan carefully stepped around, eventually getting clear access to Remus.

“Remus can you hear me?” Logan spoke softly and clearly, keeping his hands in Remus’s view as he met his eyes.

“Can’t talk. Need to finish this.” Remus didn’t meet Logan’s eyes, he only pulled the thread through the fabric, creating an eye of a much larger figure.

Logan drew a breath, “ok… what are you working on then?”

Remus knotted the green thread, snipping off the excess and pulling the yellow thread from a pile beside him, “My apology.”

Logan pulled his full attention to the green side beside him, the other two only watching as they couldn’t help but become absorbed in the conversation. “Your apology? Remus, you didn’t do anything-”

“No! No! I did! I killed him! I took my morningstar and hit his ribs until they were nothing but snake putty! I wrapped my hands around his throat until his eyes got cloudy and he looked at me with betrayal! I ripped out every one of his pretty scales and that crimson blood leaked out of every hole! I-I killed him!” Remus sped up his stitches, his voice growing thick as the tears rolled down his cheeks in globs, “I killed him!” he stopped his stitches, tears soaking down his mustache he choked on his sobs, dropping the needle with shaking hands, “I killed my best friend.”

The other sides could only stare as Remus broke down. Hiding his face in his hands as tears fell on the weeks worth of work. Regret seeped in Remus’s every word. It was like it was dunked in it, covered completely in sorrow and pain.

The sides stood frozen. The room echoed with Remus’s cries. They were haunting, the sound that you only hear in your nightmares. The sides felt their voices dissipate. Until one of them broke the hollow silence.

Anwir shuffled forward, crawling on his hands and knees with his stuffed frog in his hands. The other sides only watched as the child sat down mere inches away from the green side and held out his frog to the upset side, “Fra!”

Remus raised his head to look at the smaller side, his breaths were heavy. Tears clogging his pores and nose, his hair was a mess from a month without a hairbrush. “W-what?”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing slightly, “he means frog. He’s been trying to give people his frog when they’re upset.”

Remus blinked, his mind fogging slightly before it cleared. And he laughed. Remus laughed and pulled the scaled baby to his lap.

“Fra! Fra! Fra!”

Remus chuckled as he bounced the child, “Fra? I agree! Can you say fuck?”

Anwir blinked for a few seconds, “fua!”

Remus hummed, “hm.. Not quite. Fuck. Fu-ck. Fuck!” Patton rocked back and forth on his heels, he didn’t quite approve of Remus trying to teach his baby swears, but the moment was too wholesome to raise a fuss.

Anwir stared at the green side, heterochromatic eyes wide as he stared into the red pools of Remus’s eyes. “Fuh!” The smaller side smiled as he reached beside him, making grabby hands towards the sewing needles, making a slight pouty face when Remus pulled the needles away, “No. No sharp things until you learn how to say fuck.”

The other three sides watched with a smile as Remus played with the newest member, but eventually, Anwir fell asleep against Remus’s chest.

Virgil stretched, standing from his position on the floor, “come on Rem, let's go home.”

Remus snapped his head up from the child in his lap, “what? No.” Remus took in a large breath like sigh, “I still killed Janny. I can’t go back.”

Patton stood up tall, he took in a large breath and looked Remus directly in the eyes. Rocking back and forth on his heels slightly, “Kiddo, you didn’t kill him” Patton pushed his tears back and forced his voice to comply, “R-Roman did.”

“You were wrongfully framed Remus,” Logan added, putting a hand on Remus’s shoulder

“And we were wrong to accept you as the culprit without any concrete proof.” Virgil leaned against the concrete wall of the darkside living room.

Remus blinked, running his hand through the smaller side’s hair as the thoughts went through his head. He shook his head roughly, “no! No.. just because I don’t remember it, doesn’t mean that I didn’t fucking do it!” The green side bit his lip harshly, a small hint of copper filling his mouth.

Virgil pushed the tapestry to the side, allowing him a path to walk directly to Remus, “Remus, look at me.” the green side hesitantly raised his head to lock eyes with Virgil, “If you really wanted to kill Janus, would you have done this?” he pointed towards the tapestry, vibrant shades of gold and silver sticking out from the folded over fabric, “would you have taken away the needles from Anwir so he wouldn’t hurt himself? Would you have been so apologetic that you spent weeks down here, alone, making things that reminded you of him?” Virgil looked Remus dead in the eyes. “Dude, you need to stop listening to that head of yours and listen to the nerd. Not everything is your fault.” The green side nodded.

“Not everything is my fault…” Remus hushed a breath, the words light and airy as they flowed out of his lips.

Virgil nodded with a small grin, “Come on, trash goblin. Let’s go home.” he extended his hand, his smile growing wider when Remus rested his hand on top.

Logan rolled up the tapestry, Patton collected the hundreds of plush snakes, Virgil picked up the memories trapped in the photographs. And then they left. A green door switching out for a red one in the concrete house.

And the new family went home.

They had a lot to fix, a lot to mend, a lot to forgive. But they had each other. And sometimes, that’s all you need.

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fishnets-fingers · 2 years

Text

⭐️ SNEAK PEAK⭐️

Six Months - Part Eighteen

……..

“Say cheese, everybody!” One of Anne’s friends chirps from behind the camera.

Layla and Harry had set up a small photo corner at the corner of the drawing room, with hay bales and a backdrop that had clouds printed on them. The party had turned out well. Layla was sitting on the hay bale on the right, dressed in a dog’s costume, with a nose and whiskers she drew on her face with an eyeliner, with the biggest smile on her face. Harry was at the centre in his collared blue and white chequered dress, embellished with sequins that were stitched to look like strawberries. He even went out of his way to get a matching bow made that he used to clip his hair back. Earl was standing behind Layla in his adorable Cowardly Lion onesie and the nose Layla had drawn on with her eyeliner. Vasanth and Abi were on the other side. Abi dressed in a faux black leather long jacket and some striped green and black tights. Her bump was pronounced with the lights from the lightbox that Harry had set up earlier. She managed to match her eye makeup to her colour palette and made a long pointy hat made from black chart paper, serving every bit of Wicked Witch of the West. Behind her was her husband in his Tin Man costume, looking awkward because his niece and wife had cornered him and painted something gooey on his eyebrows which now made them stand out against his skin, a very metallic silver. Anne’s close friend, and colleague, Dana, was in a scarecrow costume, sitting on the other hay bale opposite to Layla. Then there was the star of the show, Anne, who was pleasantly surprised when she walked in the door after work to them yelling happy birthday in costume. She was quick in getting into her puffy pink, Glinda the Good Witch gown. A tiara resting on top of her head and the wand she was holding in her hand had a glittery 52 cardboard attached to the top, her other hand coming to proudly link with her son who went to great lengths to give her a special birthday.

“Cheeeeese,” the group says in response as a flash blinds them from Harry’s camera.

.........

MASTERPOST

@0oolookitsme @sunandherflores

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #camboy!harry #indian!oc #fishnets-fingers #sneak peak #part eighteen

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