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#i hope the bantu knots look good
dailykugisaki · 3 months
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Day 113 | id in alt
It's Fushiguro's fault that he does it every five seconds. He lives and breathes mahoraga.
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mistninja · 11 months
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The Ladies of Buckkeep.
Top to bottom: Lady Patience, Queen-in-Waiting Kettricken and Molly Chandler
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TD OCs Redesigns part 2! At long last!
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Lulu
This Clown didn't change much in concept but she definitely changed in design.
Previously I already made a more casual look for her when she's not performing, and that became the basis for her redesign. Her old outfit will be repurposed for her performance outfit. Still need to draw that.
Besides that she got a new hairstyle! And a hint of that Pinkie Pie inspired front swirl.
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Madileighn
The Influencer had a massive overhaul from her 1st look to her 2nd. The first look I've actually recycled for her mom's design. Who I'll post here eventually.
Anyway Madi got a warmer yellow tone, some bangs and a shorter coat. She's still looking fabulous!
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Marlo
The Prankster kept a lot of his original elements. Purple + green colors, curly black hair and a bomb on his clothes.
The hoodie became a jacket. The hair got more sharper in the back and the bomb was moved to his shirt. His shorts and nose kept changing but I finally settled on something I like.
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Olive
The Shy Doormat stayed very consistent in design. The clothes just became baggier, the nose changed shape and her colors more muted.
But she still hates the spotlight and is still a lesbian disaster.
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Parvati
Immediately, the Mythology Buff became more tomboy-ish. Her features became a lot more sharper and a bit more androgynous.
Her outfit stayed the mostly it just evolved. Less cluttered details. A more eye pleasing color pallette. All changes for the better.
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Phoenix
He's a menace this one. Definitely the one that gave me the most trouble redesigning.
Like Parvati I removed a lot of unnecessary details and gave him a more eye pleasing pallette. His skintone got a cooler undertone to better see the line work.
And the big change. His hair. Less knock-off Hobie Brown and more his own person. I'm very thankful for my friend Howai for giving me the idea for locs.
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Rachel
Ah Rachel. The Rodeo Star. Who actually started out as a pathetic Heather Wannabe. She became something way different. Now an antagonist more in line with Bowie.
Her design barely changed from V2 to V3. Just changed her bangs direction and gave her abs. Why mess with perfection?
I just realized Rachel gained boots and lost her sandals, while Madileighn lost her boots and gained sandals. Huh. Fun trade-off.
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Raheem
The Oblivious Hearth Throb is still as good looking as ever.
Now he gets to take his hair down and really make people swoon. Not that he realizes.
I basically made his outfit more warm weather oriented then cold. Also, he went from green to gray. A more neutral color helps him stand out from the cast.
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Sasha
Now if Rachel isn't the one with the least changes. Then it's Sasha. I struck gold with the first design. And she barely changed after that.
The 2 big differences are her hair, from flowing waves to bantu knots. And her concept.
Originally she was a singer going on TD to promote herself. Now she's a nepo-baby who's uncle got her onto the show. She doesn't realize her well connected, rich girl experiences aren't universal.
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Tony
Last and certainly never least. The Short-Tempered Greaser.
Tony's outfit barely changed. Just some color adjustments. But his body definitely changed. The 2nd time I designed as someone short and not just shrunk someone down.
The big difference this time is his hair. I love the pompadour+swirl but I wanted something different to differentiate him from how i draw Johnny Spirit. So he got a quaff. I think that's the right word.
Anyway lastly his pose makes his personality more clear. He's cranky and impatient.
Thank you for joining me and listen to me ramble about these guys.
I'm hoping to get the first chapter of my OC season out sometime this year. So stay tuned.
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silent-raven13 · 2 months
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A cute little Doe 2
Miles and his herd had gotten well long with Hobie's herd, the whole groups were able to build homes next to the town adding new markets and residents. All the large stags, and bucks work hard through their day fixing houses for the deertaurs. Miles was with the other deertaurs picking up fruits, and other nuts and grass to eat.
Hobie shouted, "Oi, Sunflower!"
"Hmm?" Miles turns over to find the large centaur walking towards him while having a strap with a bow and arrows, then on the side of his long back had a straddle design to carries other items like catches from their hunt or random things they find in the forest. Honey-brown eyes spotted two dead hares being hang at the side. "Oh, Hobie! Good afternoon! How was your hunt?"
"Very good. I ended catching four rabbits. I gave two for the caretaker for the lil foals. You know they need to eat while their dads are busy with the town and their mothers are busy taking care of forging, which looks like you're doing so?"
"Yeah, me and the others are picking some berries. All the does are planning to make this delicious sweet treat for your herd. I'm planning to look for some more acorns, so I can help my mamí make my favorite soup." The other deertaurs were looking at Hobie seeing what a tall well built centaur he is, a perfect candidate for a mate. They saw Miles talking to him, so they figured those two are together.
"Then, I hope this will give your soup some flavor." Hobie went the two dead rabbits, "Here, I wanted to give you this to your parents as a welcoming to the herd."
"Wow, thank you, Hobie." The deertuar beams with joy having a smile on his face, "Um... you wanna come over?"
"Sure." Without a second thought, Hobie been meaning to meet his possible mate's parents. He had seen them from afar, Miles' dad being the chief of deertaurs always seems to be busy with the other stags and Miles' mother seems to be working to helping the ill.
"Okay. Oh... I found some green apples, I heard you like them." Miles went into his basket to take out a fresh patch of grass and green apples. The centaur drools at the bright light green apple and tasty grass, it got his tail wagging so fast being excited. Hobie leans over to take a bite of the apple.
"Awe, you're too kind, Sunflower." He happily chews.
Miles stood being flustered, he fed the tall stag with some more green grass, "Don't forget your grass. it's good for you."
"I love it when you take care of me." Hobie's tail wrapped around Miles' little deer tail which wiggles with joy.
Right on the hill, there's a small hut of the chef's family, since their home is being built among their other fellow deertaurs. Hobie saw how different the huts were design compare to his fellow centaurs, they had more twigs, a bit more use of logs and animal skin from their hunt.
"Mamí!" Miles pulls the tarp to the side, "I brought a friend."
"Oh, invite him inside."
Hobie was able to enter the hut seeing it was a circular structure with a lot of space to sit and rest. "Hello, ma'am." He saw the middle age deertaur, she had long curly brown hair tied in a braid to the side, soft honey brown eyes and a bit wrinkles. If anything she looks very good for her age.
Then a little fawn pops out of the blankets, she rushes over to hug her brother, "Miles! Miles! Did you pick some yummy berries!"
"Huh, I pick your favorite." Miles set the basket down to show. "It was a good day for forging, so many tasty treats."
"Ohhh! Ohh, I wanna eat this yummy red apple!" The little doe picks a big juicy red apple, her hair ties in cute bantu knots with flowers all around, she had one a handmade knitted sweater being cold easily. "Mamí, can I?"
"Sure, my little fawn." Her mother sat on the ground while stirring a pot above a fire getting dinner started.
"Oh, Hobie brought something for us." Miles nudges his fridge, "Right!"
"Oh right. Here you go." He gave her two large rabbits, "I hope you guys like rabbit."
The older doe's eyes gleam with joy, "OHHH! We do! I've been wanting a good rabbit stew for a while! When our crops grow the finest carrots, I will have my darling calf to send you some."
"Mamí! I'm not a baby." Miles cutely pouts.
His mother giggles while the little fawn drools, "I want carrots! Mmm, crunchy carrots1"
"We have to make do with when we find, my lil fawn." Her mother smiles at her fawn being so happy.
"Billie, I did pick a few in here." Miles look into the basket as he sat down, then he pats on the ground to his friend, "Hobie have a seat. Can he stay for dinner, mamí?"
"Sure, I will start cleaning these rabbits. I can't wait for your father to come and see we'll have meat instead of nuts and vegetables for dinner." She giggles.
"Daddy isn't supposed to eat so much meat, we are deertaurs! Not mountain liontaurs or beartaurs!" Billie eats her red apple enjoying the crispy sweetness of the fruit. "Mmm, this apple is so yummy, big brother!"
"I'm glad you like it. Pavtri show me an area where the apples are grown." Miles smiles.
"Well, your father does need meat to be big and strong. He hunts and protect the herd, now even more with the way things are going. Oh Hobie, I met your leader of the herd. I didn't know he was such a big strong buck!" She saw the pot boiling of hot water, luckily she didn't add any spices or vegetable to make her soup. This pot is big enough to boil the rabbit to remove its fur . "Since we are creatures with the ability to eat both plants and meat, it will be fine."
Hobie looks at Miles chewing some acorns, "Luv, you eat meat?" Miles and his herd have only stayed for a few months, now. So, there is still much to learn from the deertaurs, he noticed they are able to survive the cold longer than him and his herd. Or their hearing is very impressive, no matter what step someone made they are quick to be alerted, their gut is never wrong. Sometimes Hobie would accidentally scare his little deertaur causing him to run off into the forest.
Miles' mother's ear perked up and sigh lovingly at Hobie's endearment nickname to her son. Could it be her little calf will be mated off soon? Hopefully the Spring Festival?
"Hm? Not much. I never like the taste of it... but I know some centaurs love eating it to be big and strong. For deertaurs, our stomachs are use to eating plant based, so our stags have to get use to it at a young age. Especially the ones that are grown to be warriors and hunters."
"Often times, we eat a little and give a lot to the males." His mother explains, "Miles as a little fawn never liked meat, it is an acquired taste, same for me and little Billie."
"I don't like it. It's gross." Billie spoke up, "Daddy can have my share. I want squash! Or carrots!" Then she gasps in joy, "Do we have potatoes?"
"No, mija. I'm so sorry!" Her mother pout, "I forgot to get it."
"I can go get it." Miles quickly got up too fast from being excited to help his mom.
"Oh, I wanna go!" Billie happily said.
Hobie got up with a calm tone, "I know where we can get some good potatoes, luv. I'll show you, Sunflower."
Rio blushes at her new possible son in-law, then quickly got her daughter, "Billie, why don't you help tu mamí?" She wants her son and his friend to get closer, have some quality time.
"Awww, okay." She pouted being sad.
"Don't worry, Boo-boo. I will take you to pick berries and we'll have a picnic together." Miles happily said with his hands holding his little sister's hand, "I promise!"
"Okay!" Billie's ears perk up being excited for tomorrow. "I can't wait."
Miles grad a wide blanket scarf to wrap his shoulders and another basket, "We'll be back soon!"
"Alright, you two be safe." His mother happily said then turns to her daughter, "Now, how about we both have some almond cookies?"
"Ohh yay!" Billie claps with joy having to spend some mother and daughter time, they are gonna drink tea and gossip.
When the two stags left out of the hut, Hobie saw multiple does looking at him. His tail wraps around Miles', then walks closer, "Here, luv. Let me fix your scarf, I never knew you get cold?"
"I do get cold when the days are warmer than all of sudden it gets a little breezy." Miles let Hobie lift the blanket up to cover more of his shoulders. The other deertaurs saw quickly muttering themselves of the possible suitor for the chief's son. They were all wondering if this fine centaur would mate their fellow deertaur.
"Luv, I have an important question."
"What is it?"
"It's just... is everyone expecting you to mate?"
Miles did noticed the stares, "Sadly, yes. I'm at the age to do so. I need to find my own mate and raise my own fawns. Isn't your herd expecting you to mate?"
"Yeah, but I was wondering if it's the same as your herd."
"Yeah pretty much same, but my dad is the Chief, so maybe they want me to be able to get a mate first. I dunno... I still haven't find the one yet." His eyes on Hobie, "or someone didn't take my flower."
"Flower?" Hobie's face turns warm like his skin color went dark from how hot he turns. His mind went dirty for the moment.
Miles nodded, "You see how I'm wearing this flower necklace, well with mating for deertaurs- we switch it." He holds his Sunflower necklace, "Everyone will know I'm mated with a special centaur." Humming as he leans closes toward Hobie, he sounded he wanted to be mated with him.
"Right." Hobie took Miles' hand before leading him to another area, "Come, luv. These are my crops."
"Your crops? Oh Hobie, no. You gave us more than-" Hobie places a finger on the deertaur's lips, "No, luv. You deserve everything. Besides, these are the best potatoes I grow, don't you want to try it?" He smiles at him.
"Oh... okay. Hobie, your so kind... I do hope you find a mate that can see it." Miles rubs his hands together feeling nervous, he wanted Hobie to be his mate.
The centaur went over to Miles to place his hands on his face to cup them, "Luv, I would never want just a mate! I want one that will feel my warmth, one that smiles so beautiful like the sun. I want you to be my mate." His face close to let his lips plant onto the deertaur's lips.
Miles' eyes widen feeling such soft lips. His tail wiggles so much, his hoofs tapping the ground. His heart felt like it's going to burst. When Hobie pulls away showing his inky eyes being filled with love. "I will make that flower necklace for us. Do you promise to make me your mate?"
"Yes, of course! I always wanted you." Miles happily said.
Hobie kisses him again with his tail wagging super fast, he could die in peace knowing his little Deertaur is his. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Miles snuggles against him. "But, you better hurry and mate me! My dad told me the other day if I'm not mate soon, he will pick a suitor for me."
"Don't worry, luv. I'm sure everyone knows you're mine." Hobie kisses him again. The two happily wrap their arms with one another, sharing a passionate kiss.
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nickgoesinsane · 11 months
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hobies 6'3?? damn that's huge and yesss i hope we get to see him w different hairstyles he would devour bantu knots and braids😍😍😍 but im hoping the most for an afro puff the most🙇‍♂️🧎
Bro’s big. He’d look so good in all those hairstyles, he pulls it off so effortlessly.
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reilleclan-blog · 10 months
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I genuinely haven't fallen in love with a universe and most of its characters in such a long time. I think since "life is strange 1&2"
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If u don't know cause u aren't a minority/aren't white and queer, the world is very very adamant on not giving u(me) representation whatsoever. So when I played games like cp77 I felt like I could be "seen" but also the world could be "seen" differently. I still have my issues with an all white game production that doesn't "accurately depict" most stuff. But sometimes to enjoy certain media I have to "overlook" these things. I genuinely hope in the future these companies hire more poc/black ppl I hope. Because aren't y'all bored of seeing the same pink ppl ruling over everything and trying to tell stories that fall flat with dif minorities? Well I am(lIS true colors*cough cough*) And also it's just a good perspective to have and know not everyone in the world hailed from the caucus mountains(even though white ppl ain't even that) lol no shade but it's true.. anyways I'm kinda joking if u took it serious uhhh that's on u I guess. Anyways stay safe out there and if u are being reckless stay "safe reckless"
Also I want to add on yes I overlook certain stuff but if I'm speaking out on an issue I have for example, cyberpunk cosplayers that are non black, using braids box braids, dreads or anything type of hair style they know their thin hair can't pull off ummm I'm going to say something about it. Unfortunately a lot of these cosplayers are quick to throw a hairstyle on for their "cosplay" their "costume" hear me?? Their COSTUME. U know something u dress up as then take off when it's convenient? I'm not going back and forth with anyone if u aren't black , respectfully stop putting box braids, dreads , cornrows, bantu knots, etc. in ur head. Black ppl can't take off being black so why should u be able to take off our hairstyles for a day for a shit ass cosplay and "yeah it's shit" if u are taking ppls culture ( I don't make the rules I just enforce them ) anyways ESPECIALLY ESPECIALLY when white ppl are constantly pushed to the front of everything(yes, even when they are mediocre ashell) and when black ppl specifically make cosplays y'all ridicule them and make fun of them saying "that character's not black🤓" lookin ass. No shit they "aren't" black they also ain't real they ALSO AINT WHITE AND AGAIN DONT EVEN DEPICT A RACE AT ALL UNLESS CLEARLY THEY MADE TO LOOK "white" or "black". I'm just so tired of ignorant ass ppl. And if anything about what I said upsets u then get the fuck off my page and grow a pair soft ass mfs hate hearing anything close to the truth. The proof is in the dumpster fire pot of a damn country.
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Reader as avdol's wife fluff :ehe:
Short but sweet? I need more Avdol in my life
Burnin' for You
"L-Lionel! Don't peck at Prince, you have your own food over here! Michael, please get down from there!" You gently used your foot to push the two chickens away from each other, and picked up another feathery lump from the roof the their coup. Lionel finally left Prince alone, but Michael started to steal his food, which caused the younger chicken to ruffle up some. Sighing, you kneeled down to the ground with a bowed head. You would've never expected handling poultry to be so frustrating.
"Maybe I'm just not cut out to be a chicken momma," It came off as a defeated moan, as you rubbed away the beginning signs of sweat off the nape of your neck.
The heat of the sun abruptly disappeared, but before you could investigate why, a soft kiss was placed on your hot cheek. "The chickens can be a handful, don't keep it against you. In time they'll learn to listen to you just as they do for me."
"Ah, Habibi! You're back so early!" Avdol stood behind you in all his glory, thick lips curled into a loving smile for you. You wrapped your arms around his sturdy frame for a hug, which he gently reciprocated, mindful of your heat exhausted form. "Let's get you inside, too much sun isn't good for you, my dear."
"But– what about the chickens?" You turned back but it was too late, they had disappeared behind the coupe fences.
"They will be fine, I'll check on them later. For now, I need you to rest."
"Rest! Out here? Nonsense. There's so much that needs to be done!"
"And we will do it later, together. Once the sun has set and you've gotten a drink." Your husband had no problems picking you up to carry you back to your home. The trip was quick, it felt that way at least with your husband's beautiful voice to fill in the quiet journey. He promptly dropped you into the soft cushions of the couch before he snuck into the kitchen for water.
"I don't think you should be out by yourself like that for a while. What would happen if you collapsed with no one with you?"
"Oh, Mohammed, there's no need to fret. I know how to pace myself. I wasn't out there long! Those chickens really know how to tucker someone out, though."
He shook his head before offering you an iced cup of water. It tasted delicious, like nothing else as it flowed down your parched throat in gulps, which Avdol had to fuss over. "It's not just you that I'm worried about... When you go outside, you're not really alone, remember?"
His words made you thoughtlessly rub at your protruding belly. He had a point... If you were to get hurt, you'd be putting the baby in danger, too...
"You're thinking about it... I can tell." Mohammed had a soft smile on his lips as he bent lower to your level between your legs. He took your smaller hands into his own, massaging the back of your palms with his thumbs.
"Maybe," You pouted childishly. Just because he was your husband doesn't mean you liked it when he was right. Which was most of the time. "Fine– I give. You're right. Again." He chuckled deep from his chest, in that special way that made your heart warm up, and kissed your cheek. The hand that was on your right made its way to your belly to cup it from under your shirt. He was so gentle as he rubbed soft circles into your skin with his warm touch. You fell into silence watching him admire your bump. He looked so sweet and happy to be here with you. Your fingers followed the trails of his scalp showing from between his tight Bantu knots as you fantasized about the future with this man.
"I hope she has your eyes," You suddenly speak. From his place in your lap, a single warm eye opened to peer up at you, just proving your point more. "Such pretty eyes... Or maybe your hair, so I can help her braid it every night. Your hair is also gorgeous."
"And who says they'll be a girl?" He taunts you. "What if they're a little boy?" "And who told you I wouldn't spoil my little boy, too?" You smugly fought back. "Though, I know it's a girl. It's mother's intuition."
"Wanna bet?" Mohammed's stupidly attractive face pressed closer into yours. His nose rubbed against yours and your lips threatened to touch. You hummed in thought, weighing your options while rubbing your thumb against his soft mouth. "Sure. Two kisses says I'm right."
"My love, you can have those anytime you need." He cut the invisible boundary between the two of you, and you shared a sweet kiss.
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rommahh · 3 years
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Wash Day
Pairing: BuckyBarnesxBlack!Reader
Word Count: 1.1K
{Heres my submission for the POC Readers of Color Challenge made by @uncafeavecbarnes and @happygowriting. I knew I wanted to participate in this challenge from the second I saw it. I based this one shot heavily off of my own experiences as a black girl with kinky, curly hair. I hope y'all enjoy it. Much love, R.}
You and Bucky's shared room smelled of the shea butter lotion you lathered onto your skin after your shower hours ago. You sat on the love seat in the corner of the room. Your lap was covered by a blanket and a dry towel sitting just on top of that. On your left sat your favorite deep conditioner and spray bottle. On your right sat a vat of setting gel and scalp oil.
Your fingers were sore from the detangling of your coarse hair but you knew that a few days from now you would be basking in how good your hair looked. Twists outs were hit or miss with your hair but you've seemed to master your routine.
Your laptop sat in front of you on the coffee table, playing a calming video of someone decorating a new bullet journal. Bucky had left this morning right before you got in the shower. He cheekily was able to check out your nude form before leaving out the door. Even though you started your hair hours ago, you still weren't done.
Your hair is a process. From the washing to the detangling to the styling- it was an all day excursion. You remember a time when you were younger where you used to hate your hair. You were the only little black girl in your class with an afro whereas your white peers had nice straight hair. You used to be jealous of how they could easily play with each other's hair and how they could share their experiences on the playground by braiding each other's hair.
As you grew older, you watched more black girls learn to love their natural hair. You were finally able to share experiences with other girls. You could talk about how painful your braids were and how long it took to put the beads in. You could talk about your favorite smelling hair products and how your favorite hair shop on the corner of the street was having a sale.
You grew to love your hair. You love learning new things about your hair like its porosity and what products are absorbed quickly in your hair. You loved trying new protective styles like butterfly locs, bantu knots, and passion twists. Your hair made you feel good.
You finish off a row of mini twists when the door opens showing your boyfriend and all of his sweaty glory. His shirt stuck to him with sweat signifying that he had just got back from training with Sam at the compound. You couldn't help but check out his thick thighs as he bent down to untie his shoes.
He walked over to you, leaning over your body to give you a kiss on the lips.
“Are you still doing your hair?” His question made you roll your eyes, a small laugh leaving your lips. He looked to the bed contemplating sitting on it but he remembered your rules of no outside clothes on the bed. He sat down on the floor in front of you caressing your knees that stuck out from where you were sitting on the couch ‘criss-cross applesauce’.
“Bucky we’ve been together for too long for you not to know that wash day is an all day excursion.” You replied lowering your hands to your towel to wipe them off. Bucky laughed at your comment.
“My bad baby, I should know better.” With your newly wiped off hand you grabbed his non-metal hand giving it a squeeze. “I love your hair, so pretty.” He says quietly.
You feel your face warm up at his comment. Even though it was a small comment, it meant so much to you. You didn't need your white boyfriend's validation but that doesn't mean it doesn't sometimes feel good. He was invested in your natural hair journey. Following all of your favorite natural hair gurus on instagram and purchasing newly released products for you to try out. He hyped you up every time you did something new with your hair while also making sure you felt loved even when it wasn't done and you were overdue for a wash.
“I missed you this morning. You didn't give me any time to give you my morning cuddles.” You pouted at him.
“I know, I know and I'm sorry. Mr. Captain America just wanted to train with me this morning and talk to me about an upcoming mission. We trained with the shield a little bit.” He stood from where he was sat to stand and stretch.
“Fine, I guess my soldier has to stay on top of training and looking all hot and buff and stuff.” You joked. He lifted his shirt showing off a peak of his abs while wiggling his hips and eyebrows. You hollered at him as he did his little dancy dance.
“I'm going to take a shower.” You hummed in response, your hands returning to your hair. Bucky stripped outside of the bathroom, you admired his little butt on the way into the bathroom.
You started a new row of hair, your rat tail comb brushing your scalp to part your hairs from each other. You parted that hair into even smaller sections. Grabbing a smaller section you sprayed it with water, waiting a second to allow the hair to absorb the water. Next you went in with the deep conditioner, lathering it through the piece. You felt your hair drink up the conditioner, softening under the touch. To lock in the curls that had formed from the conditioner, you applied a good amount of gel. Once those things settled in your hair, you formed two strands, twisting them around each other.
By the time you finished off your twists, Bucky had exited the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. You stood from the couch, your body stretching dramatically from sitting for so many hours. Bucky dropped the towel before pulling on a pair of sweats.
“You freeballing it? Risky.” You questioned with an eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, I know you like easy access.” He mutters hanging up his towel. Y/N cleans up her area, putting her hair stuff next to her laptop.
“Ew James.” You scold. He turns to look at you with a smirk, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. Before he could say anything, you launched yourself at him. Your arms wound around his shoulders, legs wrapped around his strong waist. He grunted, grabbing your legs, borderline gripping a handful of butt.
“Woah, sweetheart.”
“I didn't get to give my baby his morning cuddle.” You coddle giggling at his unimpressed face. You place a smattering of kisses over his face enjoying the way his face heats with warmth. You finally land a kiss on his lips, humming with contentment.
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ynisamenace · 3 years
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 Party For One
Warnings: sub! Aone being a flustered mess, confident dom! Reader, nsfw kinda (grinding, not pg-13 kissing), mention of drugs and alcohol, college au! Aone.
Word count: 2.3k
a/n: ok guys this is my first fanfic so apologies if it’s not too good or if the ending is too rushed. Constructive criticism is always welcome and pls don’t forget to like and/or reblog. Thank you!
Aone was not much of a party goer. Although his friends were more outgoing, he in fact was not. He was more of a homebody, mostly leaving his shared apartment with Kenji for school, to get more ramen from the corner shop near his uni or practice with his newly-formed volleyball team; courtesy of his newly-formed friend, Kanji. Then proceeding to come home to shower, nap, wake up, struggle with his homework and then sleep till the next day. He was about to start the fourth activity of his daily routine when the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment.
Sighing, he left his spot at the kitchen island to open the front door, then trying to close it once Kanji’s face appeared behind it.
“Woah woah if you wanted some alone time, you should’ve just said that”, the cat-faced friend exclaimed, just barely slipping through the crack in the door. Face adorned with brown freckles and a smile seemingly super glued to his face, he looked like the poster boy of golden retriever boys, “Wouldn’t matter anyway since I’m still dragging you to Sugawara’s tonight.”
Ah yes, Suga’s party, the one Aone was being forced to go to as a favour for his new friend. The white haired boy uttered a grunt of disapproval as Kanji plopped down onto his couch.
“I’m telling you man, when girls see us walking in together with my beauty and your scowl-,” he smirked while giving Aone a once over, “-they’ll come flocking like parakeets.” Aone ignored his new friend’s rambling and was about to go back to his homework when his phone buzzed. Picking it up and looking at his crush’s name made him do a double take before realizing it was from his class groupchat.
Y/n❤: Someone better come pick me up or else I’m dumping the mary jane😤
Sugawara: You live on campus, how did you sneak it in?
Y/n❤: Come pick me up and I’ll tell you
Bsf/n: I can see I’m gonna be on y/n duty tonight. I’ll come get you in 5
Y/n❤: Girl I’ll literally marry you don’t play with me
                                         -5 minutes later-
Y/n❤: Psa to everyone in this groupchat, bsf/n and I are married now
Bsf/n: As long as you do my makeup for the party lol
Y/n❤: Deal
A slightly dejected sigh left the tall boy’s lips, wishing it was him y/n would joke about marrying to the- wait party?? The realization that y/n was going to the same party as him made heart race with anticipation and although he never talked to her in any of the classes they shared, Aone developed a massive crush on y/n just by seeing the way she interacts with others as well as her personality. Her presence when she walks into a room, beautiful coily/kinky hair either flowing or in a different ‘protective style’ (which Aone ended up googling the meaning to) and her face adorned with a smile so bright, he could feel his ears getting hotter just by its look, it would be foolish to think that no other person in his uni or elsewhere had already snatched her up. Which is why Aone never felt the need to let her know about how much he was falling for her.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his roommate’s door opening, revealing a clearly tipsy Kenji trying and failing to button up the last button on his silk shirt.
“Is anyone g-gonna help or what..” he slurred, stumbling into the living room, planting himself right in front of Aone who begrudgingly helped him with the last button. Satisfied, the intoxicated boy walks over to Kanji on the couch who’s currently scrolling through his instagram feed. He gives Kenji a once over before giving a nod of approval to his outfit. He turns to the tall, white haired boy, “Aone go change, the party starts in 10 and you know it’ll take us half an hour to get there!”, he exclaimed gesturing to Aone with his hands in a shooing manner. He didn’t understand what was wrong with his gray shirt and black sweatpants but went to his room to go change anyway, returning six minutes later sporting a green and white checkered shirt with dark blue jeans and black levis. The trio hurriedly leave their apartement, Kanji practically dragging both boys to his car before appointing Aone as the designated driver as the boy was the only one who had no intention to drink at the party.
The ride to the party took much more than half an hour as Aone was forced to drive while simultaneously trying to stop the two boys at the back from drinking any more of the pregame Kanji brought as well as preventing Kenji from messing with the aux cord. In the end, both boys settled on playing Ei8th mile on repeat the rest of the drive, both alternating between rapping DigDat and Aitch’s lines. Finally getting to the address Sugawara sent to the group, the trio hopped out of the car and went to knock on the door, opening to reveal the silver haired boy in all his glory wearing a burger king crown and a drunk smile.“You guys look li-hiccup-ke you had a fun drife here”, opening the door wider to reveal flashing red and purple strobe lights, living room filled with drunk and soon-to-be drunk college students and a hiphop song playing with a loud base that almost made Aone’s teeth clink. The two drunk boys wasted no time heading to the make shift bar in the kitchen, Aone following reluctantly behind feeling quite awkward in the party setting. Even worse, he was unable to spot y/n in the crowd making his heart drop lower into his stomach.
 No no no no. 
Even though Aone didn’t think y/n would like him the way he likes her, he was hoping he could at least use this party to make himself known to her, maybe forming a friendship with her first before professing his love. Dejectedly, he trudges to the bar, sulking next to his now very drunk friends who are far more interested with the designs on the kitchen counter. 
“Dude it’s so swirly…how do they make it like that?” one of the boys asks.
“Bro it has to be like a top secret thing. Like in the dark web,” the other replied, his eyes widening as his pupils are blown out more.
Not wanting to deal with their drunk conspiracies, Aone heads to the store room in search for some water after not seeing any laid out. Finding a bottle, he quickly gulps it down, faintly hearing the song in the living room change to one with a much deeper base. Leaving the store with his thirst finally quenched, he recognizes the song as Cold by Rico Nasty, her gravely voice echoing around the living room and drowning out some of the chatter which Aone was grateful for.
Ridin’ in a Maserati
Like Scotty I’m with two hotties
I ain’t just walk in the party-
“I brought the drugs to the partyyyy”, a voice which made Aone’s heart beat faster screamed, Y/n bursting through the front door with a medium sized pack of marijuana and a tray of what he assumes are pot brownies as the crownd cheered at her arrival. Her eyes wide with excitement, hair in cute little bantu knots (which Aone noted is now probably his favourite hairstyle on her), and dazzling smile still glued to her face. Making a bee line to the kitchen to drop the stuff she was holding, she hugged and greeted the people closest to her, making Aone regret not standing closer to the front door before realizing she was making her way straight to him.“Hi Polar Bear!” her scent of f/p enveloping him as she hugged his stomach, hair right next to nose, making the boy short-circuit. Y/n is hugging me. Me. Hugging. She smells so good. I should probably hug her back. But what if that’s weird. Hugging me. I’m gonna marry her. I’m gonna throw u-
“Takanobu woohoo you good?” she whispered in neck, drawing him out of his daydream, while at the same time making blood rush to his lower region. His eyes widen as he turns to see her staring right at him, inches apart and eyes questioning.
“I-I’m doing well y/n, um you uh look great tonight”, he managed to blurt out, his compliment making her lips curve into that signature smile. He unconsciously let out a low groan as he felt his jeans tighten even more as his mind raced a mile a minute, envisioning her on top of him, smile turning into a smirk as she runs her hands over his body making him squirm. His neck, his nipples, his happy trail, his-
Once again brought out of his daydream, he looked around to see y/n already gone and dancing in the living room, her presence making her look ethereal in the flashing lights. Smiling slightly, Aone deciding to stop before his imagination made him cream in his pants, decided to go look for his friends spotting both of them laying near a potted plant in the hallway caressing the leaves and muttering under their breaths. He discreetly goes back to the store, getting two bottles of water and placing them on either side of his friends, knowing they’ll be shocked at it ‘appearing’.
Sighing tiredly, he briefly thinks of just driving back to his apartment having already seen his crush and hugged her, but decided against it not wanting to feel guilty for abandoning his intoxicated friends. He was about to go to the backyard looking for some fresh air before he heard his name being said in the crowd. Turning around too quickly he bumped into someone, gripping their waist and letting their scent envelop him before he caught a glimpse of their hair. 
Yes yes God yes
“Nobu I’m so sorry, I was trying to get your attention but you didn’t turn around!” y/n exclaimed, gripping his shirt making the boy realize his grip on her waist was tightening significantly. He quickly tried to let go but y/n wasn’t having any of it and planted his large palm on her backside, squeezing a little. Aone’s face had never been as red as it is now from that simple action. Clearing his throat, he gives a tentative squeeze to gauge her reaction and seeing the smirk on her face as her pupils darken. She finally releases her grip on his hand and turns to the dance floor, Aone follow behind.
 As they reach the dance floor, afrobeats fill the air as joro by wizkid which Aone knew was one of y/n’s favourite songs) plays turning the energy of the party to a slower tempo. Y/n turns to the tall boy, once more putting his hands on her waist, before pulling him closer to her, their bodies now pressed against eachother.
Aone can feel her grinding on his pants and begs to any God who’ll listen to please not let him pop a boner right now. Her mouth comes closer to his ear and he can feel her breath making shivers run down his spine. “I could feel it you know…” she whispers as his eyes widen, embarrassment from though him as he realizes she felt the first boner he popped while hugging her in the kitchen “…didn’t peg you as the type. What a pervert you are Nobu.”   
That small gesture almost made Aone cream in his pants. Almost. If not for the overwhelming shame he would feel if someone saw him, his dick was already as hard as can be. A murmur left Aone’s lips and y/n has to strain her neck to hear him over the sound of the music flowing through the house.
“What was that Nobu?”
“P-plea-ase,” he whispers, ears a bright shade of red as y/n smirks looking him in the eye to see his pupils blown out, clouded with lust and feeling his member poking her in the thigh.
“Please what Nobu?” their lips almost touching.
“..Please kiss me”
“That’s all you had to say ya damn polar bear”, finally pressing her lips on his and making the butterflies in his stomach turn into fireworks. He really couldn’t believe it. His head felt like it was about to burst from all the blood that rushed into it. Her lips felt so much better, so much better than his imagination. Her hands sliding up to his neck and slipping into the hair on the nape of his neck, he uttered a low groan giving access to y/n to slip her tongue onto his. Aone could feel his precum dampening his briefs and hoped that a dark spot wouldn’t be visible by the end of the night. She tried to break the kiss, his head leaning closer not letting her go until she tugged hard on his nape hair forcefully, a string of saliva still connecting them.
“What a needy boy”, she smirked, letting go of him to swipe at the corner of his lips. “Why didn’t I come speak to you earlier?”, he didn’t care because for him, this really was worth the wait.
 Aone was not much of a party goer, but he’d have to thank his friends in the morning for forcing him to go to this one.
Tags: @itzgabz22
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redgillan · 4 years
Text
Under Pastel Skies - 6
Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.
Word Count: 4,327
Warnings: panic attacks, Bucky recalls his accident
A/N: I don’t have much to say, Bucky’s real emotional in this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter :’) 
Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.
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Everywhere Bucky looked his eyes and ears were assaulted by a cacophony of sounds and colours. Red and green baubles hung from the ceiling, shimmering like disco balls and sending sparkles around the mall.
The air smelled like pine and cinnamon, something he usually liked, but it was so pungent and unpleasant that it made his stomach churn and bile rise up his throat. He tried to breathe through his mouth, forcing oxygen into his lungs.
Flashes of silver and gold momentarily blinded him, and as someone walked past him, their shopping bag knocked against his leg. It didn’t hurt but it made him seethe with misplaced anger. Beads of sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
Christmas carols played over the mall speakers, more specifically Jingle Bells which they played three times in less than an hour. Enough, enough, enough. He was suffocating, unable to breathe. He felt too big for his own skin, he needed to escape.
Then he felt your hand at the small of his back, guiding him toward what looked like a furniture store. He followed blindly, his vision blurry and unfocused, and sat down when you gently pushed him down onto a sofa.
Bucky shut his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushion. A woman came up and asked if you needed help but you told her that everything was fine. The buzzing in his ears made the voices around him strangely soothing, as if he was underwater. Now that he was sitting down, he felt a lot better.  
You didn’t try to touch him, something he was very grateful for. He could feel your weight shift next to him and knowing you were there was enough. He focused on you –your heat, your voice, the smell of your shampoo- and his breathing slowly returned to normal.
“Sorry,” he breathed out with a small smile, his head lolling to one side to look at you. “I ruined our shopping spree.”
The fear and panic had dissipated, leaving him cold, exhausted and craving skin to skin contact. He took your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were freezing cold.
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
He snorted. “Yeah, I did.” A sad smile curved his lips, he needed to change the subject. “Do you celebrate Christmas?”
You sank further into the sofa cushion sitting shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand.
“We celebrated so many different holidays,” you said. “Perks of growing up in a multicultural family. Christmas was wild though. One tree, five kids. That poor thing never stood a chance. Now I don’t really celebrate anything. December used to be so much fun, now it’s just not the same.”
“We should create our own holiday,” Bucky suggested, squeezing your hand.
“Aren’t you going to see your family?”
“Nah,” he replied with a yawn. “My sister is taking her kids somewhere warm, and my parents are traveling the country in their RV. You can invite your siblings if you want.”
“They’re not available.”
Bucky tried to decipher the expression on your face. Every time you talked about your siblings, you had a faraway look in your eyes, as though you were reliving a memory. He couldn’t tell what you were thinking but your face twisted into a painful grimace. Then suddenly it was gone.
“I want a tree.”
He watched you with a lazy smile. “I’ll get you a tree.”
You pulled him up to his feet and decided it was time to go home. Home. It still made Bucky weirdly warm inside when you called his apartment ‘home’. You crossed the mall, your arm looped through his as you walked, and took a cab to Brooklyn.
He almost fell asleep from the gentle rocking of the car moving through the streets of Manhattan. When he glanced at you, you were looking out your window watching the snow fall.
You’d been living together for almost two months now and Bucky couldn’t have picked a better roommate. He liked the way you sang in the shower, loud, cheerful and most definitely off-key. He liked that you had more pyjamas than every day clothes. He liked watching you paint from the living room, and it always made him laugh when you added weird things to his grocery list.
He could go to bed and sleep the whole night without waking up, feeling safer knowing someone else was there. Of course, not everything was perfect but it was close enough.
He woke up on the sofa a few hours later, still dressed and with a fluffy blanket thrown over him. The sun was setting, painting the sky with reds and oranges. He basked in the setting sun, a content smile on his face, before he sat up.
The TV was on, the volume low, and you were sitting cross-legged on the floor between the sofa and the coffee table going through a bunch of old photographs. Bucky looked around the room, taking in the new furniture and decor.
There was a comfortable armchair in front of the gas burning fireplace. Your book was resting on the seat of the armchair. You had also bought a lot of decorative pillows, some were pretty funny like the one that looked like a giant cookie.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked, his voice gruff with sleep.
You looked over your shoulder at him. “Hey, you’re awake! I bought some picture frames. I thought it’d make this place look less like a high end furniture store.”
“I liked it better when you thought this apartment was amazing.”
You laughed. “I still do, but it’s a bit... soulless.” You tilted your head back, looking at him upside down. “Sorry.”
“Gotta call a spade a spade,” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “All right, well, while you do that I’m going to start dinner.”
He pushed off the sofa but you caught his wrist before he could leave. “I’m already done. I’ve left some frames for you.”
“I already have lots of pictures upstairs.”
“I know, but no one ever goes upstairs,” you replied, letting go of his wrist. “And you’re not in any of the photos.”
Bucky’s eyes were drawn to the picture you were holding. It must have been taken on the day of your high school graduation, you were dressed in a cap and gown, smiling with your whole face. He’d never seen you smile like that. He recognized Peggy Carter right away, her hair was more silver-white than brown and there were deep wrinkles around her eyes.
Your mom wasn’t looking at the camera, she was scolding the young man who was giving you bunny ears. The man was grinning mischievously at the camera. Bucky couldn’t tell how old he was, he appeared to be either twenty or fifty.
There were two other women wearing sundresses, one had long brown hair, the other had twisted her hair into Bantu knots. A young man with dyed silver hair and dark roots was squatting in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest à la Backstreet Boys.
“You should frame this one,” he said, sitting on the floor next to you.
You shrugged. “I don’t know. It makes me kinda sad.”
Bucky learned not to dwell on the past. It hadn’t been easy but it would have been impossible to heal without the support of his friends and family. Grief manifests itself in a number of ways, it’s raw and complex, and comes from your soul. 
Bucky had a deep love for his childhood, especially his college years, but while he would cherish this time forever, he had accepted that he was a different person. He wasn’t the same naïve, youthful man he used to be, and it wasn’t a bad thing.
But he also knew that some people live in the past. It makes them feel alive.
“Y’know,” he started, meeting your eyes with a smile. “My hair used to be pretty long. I think I still have some photos in a folder somewhere.”
You clasped your hands together in a silent prayer. “Bucky, I’m going to be honest with you,” you deadpanned. “I need to see those pictures. I need them now. It’s a matter of life and death.”
He rolled his eyes while he got to his feet. “You’re so dramatic. I’ll go get ‘em.”
Bucky took the stairs up to his office and came back a few minutes later with a laptop under his arm. He sat on the floor next to you and set the laptop on his lap.
“You promise you won’t make fun of me?”
“Absolutely,” you replied, mimicking a Cheshire cat grin.
He sighed and tried to look stern but it was nearly impossible. You were too lovely, and he couldn’t help but smile. He opened up the laptop and glanced at you from the corner of his eye; you were practically vibrating.
He started going through the photos when he found one of himself at a party. He was in his early twenties, slumped in a chair, his eyes glassy and unfocused. In the next one he had been joined by two equally drunk women, and he was now roaring at the camera.
“Early twenties, two arms, and not a care in the world,” he said with a little sigh.
You leaned forward, your elbow resting on the coffee table. “Looks like you were having fun.”
“College was a lot of fun,” Bucky said, grinning to himself.
“What was your major?”
“English,” he replied. “I was a really good student, I could have chosen anything but there were more girls studying literature so I enrolled as an English major.”
“Wait!” You recoiled as if you had misheard him. “Did you really choose English because there were more girls?”
He made a funny grimace, and his nose scrunched up a bit as he mulled it over. “Yeah... my priorities were a bit mixed up. Hormones and all.”
You lowered your face into your hand and laughed. When you looked up at him, he was sporting his boyish grin and you shook your head at him.
In the next picture, he was clad in a black university graduation gown standing next to a blond man also dressed in a black gown. They were smiling, sunglasses perched on their nose.
“When I graduated, I had no idea what to do with a BA in English,” Bucky said after taking a long look at the photo. “The thing is, I never found my life’s calling. In high school I didn’t know what job I wanted to do, or what really motivated me, and to be honest I never really thought about it. I figured I’d find my passion in college but...” he trailed off with a shrug. “You’re lucky to have found your passion.”
“Is that why you want to help me?” you asked. “Because I found my calling and I wasn’t pursuing it.”
He tilted his head to one side, considering. “Yes, I guess that’s part of the reason why I want to help you.” He took a shuddering breath.
“Turns out I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep my head above water.” He pressed his index finger to the computer screen. “This is Steve, my oldest friend. He had just started working as a professional freelance photographer. I had nothing to do so I decided to help him build his portfolio. You’re an artist, I’m sure you know that a portfolio will make or break you.”
“It shows what you’ve accomplished, the skills you mastered,” you said, nodding. “Your potential employers will want to see your portfolio.”
“Exactly, and you have to show them your best work. In Steve’s case, it meant taking risks. No matter how talented you are, no one’s gonna pay you for a shot of the Brooklyn Bridge. It’s gorgeous but it’s not rare.”
“So what did he do?”
“We decided to climb Mount Everest.” He mechanically rubbed his stump and your eyes followed his movement. “It might’ve been the dumbest idea we’ve ever had but it sort of made sense at the time. Steve needed a challenging project and I was trying to find my purpose. We trained for a year, put money aside and took a loan. We were young, we thought we were invincible.
“The thing is,” he continued, “Mount Everest is the most famous mountain in the world. It’s crowded and only half the climbers reach the summit. A lot of people die.” He took a small pause. “Sometimes they can’t remove their bodies and they become landmarks. Our Sherpa told us about this man, they call him Green Boots. He’s sort of curled up in a fetal position near what they call Green Boots’ cave. When you walk past him, it looks like he’s just sleeping and because it’s so cold out there he’s actually well-preserved.”
“Oh, God.”
“Yeah, it’s awful,” Bucky let out a small, humourless laugh. “When I fell, I dislocated my arm and it pinched my axillary artery completely closed. It cut off circulation. That’s why they had to amputate. I was just lying there, too weak to call for help, watching people walk past me. They thought I was dead. And I remember thinking, ‘I’m going to die here. I’m going to die here and people will refer to me as Blue Jacket.’ Then Steve and the Sherpa found me, and Steve carried me on his back until they found a shelter. When the rescue team arrived, it was too late to save my arm.”
He went through the photos in silence and glared at the screen without really seeing it, his mind far away. On the screen, there was an endless stream of blurry smiles and blue eyes but he couldn’t look away. His thoughts cleared up when he felt the back of your knuckles along his cheek and jaw.
He unclenched his teeth, feeling the pain in his jaw. You brushed your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead. You mindlessly played with the curl on top of his head and raked your fingernails gently over his scalp. When you spoke, your voice was just a soft whisper.
“Come back to me.”
Bucky forced his eyes shut and swallowed past the lump in his throat, tears pooling on his lower lashes. He took a deep breath and released it slowly. After a moment, he felt his body beginning to relax.
“How do you do that?” he asked in a pleading voice, turning his head to look at you. “How do you quiet the noise in my head?”
The question caught you off guard but you recovered quickly. You took his arm and draped it over your shoulders. “I don’t know,” you said, snuggling into his side. “It’s your second panic attack today. Did I push you too hard?”
“No.” His response was immediate. “I don’t like winter. It’s freezing cold and it gets dark at three thirty. Not my favorite time of the year.”
“But this helps, right?” you asked, waving your hand back and forth in the space between you.
He chuckled. “Yeah, it helps a lot.”
“Good.” You snuggled a little closer.
“But since you’re hoarding my arm, you’re gonna have to go through the pictures yourself,” he added, grinning down at you.
“Sorry,” you laughed. You reached out and slid two fingers over the touchpad guiding the cursor over the arrow icon. “So where are those pictures of you with long hair, uh?”
He knew you were trying to distract him but still made him blush. Those photos were in a folder titled: recovery spring 2010. He gave you directions to find it and waited for your reaction, wondering if you would burst into laughter at the sight of him with long hair and a lot more weight on.
“Wow.”
Bucky turned his attention to the screen to see which one had caught your interest. It was a selfie Steve had taken one sunny afternoon after he had forced Bucky to go out with him and Sam. They were sitting outside drinking iced tea.
Steve’s smile was blinding. He was wearing that stupid baseball cap he loved so much. Bucky sat hunched over in his seat behind Steve, his smile small but genuine. It was the kind of smile that said ‘my friends forced me to join them but I’m secretly glad they did’. Sam was leaning sideways against Bucky, his eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.
“You look like a completely different person,” you said. “So... strong.”
“Hey!” he gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m still strong.” He removed his arm from behind your shoulders and raised it to flex his biceps. “Look at that!”
With a roll of your eyes, you let your hand roam over his muscular arm slightly squeezing his biceps. “Okay, I’m impressed.”
“Ah! Thank you,” he said with a pleased smile. “Now, c’mon, s’ time to eat.”
Bucky got to his feet and extended his hand to help you up. You trailed behind him as you walked toward the kitchen. “I bet Steve could rip a log in half with his bare hands.”
“I’ll ask him.”
“Where is he?”
“Hard to say. He works for National Geographic now. I think he’s supposed to be in Siberia.”
You spent the next few days like tourists. You showed Bucky your favourite museums, stayed way too long in front of several artworks but he never complained. Bucky took you to the movies. You sat together in the dark for several hours watching foreign films, and you only fell asleep once. Then the two of you would walk around Manhattan speaking in a made-up language and pretending to be characters in a movie.
Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so carefree. A little voice in the back of his head kept repeating ‘enjoy it while it lasts’ but he chose to ignore it.
“Thanks for helping me with this,” Bucky said, gesturing at the tree in the living room. “She went to the store to buy some ornaments.”
He handed Sam a bottle of beer which he took with a smile before tipping it to his lips for a long drink. Bucky hit his beer bottle on the counter to uncap it and followed Sam into the living room.
“She’s excited, uh,” Sam said with a grin. “You guys are spending Christmas together?”
“Liss,” Bucky replied after taking a swig of beer. “We’re celebrating Liss this year.”
“’The hell is that?”
Bucky shrugged. “It’s an old word. It means comfort, happiness.” A respite from pain. “We decided to make our own holiday. We’re going to spend two days in our fanciest loungewear, eating junk food and playing board games.”
“Cute,” Sam drawled out. “When’s the wedding?”
“Don’t say that.” Bucky glared at him. “Why do you always do that? I finally feel at peace with myself. I’m happy, I’m ready to take on new challenges. Why do you always have to make fun of me?”
Sam’s eyes widened at this. “Woah, I’m joking. It’s what we do. You tease me, I tease you. C’mon, I know things have been hard for you. I’m proud of you,” he rushed to say, afraid he might have hurt his friend’s feelings, but then he caught Bucky’s barely concealed smirk behind his beer bottle. “You’re messing with me.”
“Of course, man. Can you say ‘I’m proud of you’ again? Wanna make it my ringtone.”
“Screw you.” They sipped their beer in silence, each deep in thought. “But you like her, right?”
Bucky twirled the neck of the bottle between two fingers. “I do, she’s nice.”
Sam shook his head like he was frustrated with the answer “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t bullshit me.”
“I’m not in love with her, Sam.”
“I never said anything about being in love.” He was silent for a moment before he added, “Beside there’s an entire world between like and love.”
Bucky caught a glimpse of hurt and fear in the depths of Sam’s eyes. He reminded him of Steve: strong yet vulnerable, generous and righteous. Bucky had a feeling Sam wasn’t talking about you.
“Is this about Natasha?”
Sam hung his head and stared at the beer bottle he rolled between his hands. “Sometimes I feel like it was inevitable. These sugar daddy relationships are complicated; at first it’s fun and easy, we both get what we want.” He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. “And then it changes, so fast you barely see it coming, and it becomes the only thing you look forward to.” He took another swig of beer.
“These few hours with her mean more to me than anything else in this goddamn world. But it’s not real, none of this is real.”
“How do you know it’s not real?” Bucky asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat.
“I pay her.” Sam gave him a sad smile. “She spends time with me because I pay her. Sex wasn’t part of our deal but it came naturally. It’s going to end, one way or another. And If my time with her is limited, why make things complicated, y’see?”
An uneasy feeling gnawed at Bucky’s stomach, taunting him, trying to make him see something he wasn’t ready to see yet. “What if she feels the same way ‘bout you?”
“I don’t know,” Sam sighed. “To know that I’d have to talk to her, and I’d rather not take my chances. I’m happy with the way things are right now. It hurts, but I’m okay.” He leaned back and made himself comfortable. “You gotta be careful, Bucky. I see the way you look at your angel. You’re skating on thin fucking ice.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Like, love,” Sam said, weighing the two words. “And everything in between.”
They mulled over Sam’s words while they finished their beer. A million thoughts raged through Bucky’s head, circling around like wasps, buzzing and annoying. He was relieved when he heard the front door open.
“Italian leather loafers, mmh is Sam here?” you called out from the kitchen where you set your shopping bag down on the table before you joined them in the living room. “Hey guys! What’s the matter? You both look like someone kicked your puppy-OH MY GOD! LOOK AT THAT TREE!”
While you ran across the living room, Sam cast Bucky a look. The message was clear; be careful. They got to their feet and acted like nothing happened. Sam put on his coat and gave you a quick hug before he left.
Bucky was silent while you were decorating the tree. He let you decide where you wanted to put the tinsel and baubles. He just sat there with a vacant look in his eyes, handing baubles. A smile curled his lips when you cupped his cheek and ran the pad of your thumb along his cheekbone. He looked up at you.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Just old and moody.”
You laughed. “Come here, help me with this. It’s actually super boring when no one’s fighting for the baubles.”
“Oh, you wanna fight, angel,” he said with a smirk while he played with a tinsel garland. “Ok, let’s fight.”
You took a step back. “I’ve changed my mind.”
“Too late!”
You shrieked when he launched himself at you. He wrapped the tinsel garland around you, loosely pinning your arms to your sides. You laughed so hard your eyes watered and your shoulders shook. He used it to his advantage and looped two baubles over your ears like giant earrings.
Still laughing, you tugged one of your hands free and threw a handful of tinsel all over Bucky before you ran away. He chased you around the living room, using one of the fairy lights as a lasso.  
Soon, the living room was a giant mess. There was more tinsel in Bucky’s hair than on the tree, and you had managed to wrap the fairy lights around his body. You look pretty ridiculous with your giant earrings and dishevelled hair.
You and Bucky collapsed on the floor, out of breath and euphoric. The sun was starting to set behind the skyscrapers casting a warm golden glow over the room. You turned on the fairy lights and burst out laughing when Bucky sparkled like a tree.
He found his phone on the sofa and handed it to you. You opened up the camera app and nestled closer to him. The first photo was blurry because you couldn’t stop laughing. Bucky thought the second photo was nice but you didn’t like it.
“My smile is too wild,” you said.
“You look beautiful,” he argued. “I look like a Christmas tree.”
Bucky felt a pleasant stir in his belly when you placed your head on his shoulder. Be careful. He could practically hear Sam’s voice in his head. His chest was hurting. It wasn’t unpleasant, just peculiar and unexpected. He closed his eyes and rested his cheek on top of your head.
“Bucky! You have to open your eyes,” you scolded him after looking at the picture, unaware of his inner turmoil.
He wasn’t sure he could; tears were welling up in his eyes. He was terrified of his feelings for you, but his body was screaming at him to stop burying his head in the sand. He didn’t want you to see the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to alarm you, because the truth was, he hadn’t been careful.
“Can’t. I’m comfy,” he replied, masking his true feelings behind a joke.
“Open them or I’ll tickle you.”
He chuckled. “Okay, okay, no need to use force.”
He soldiered on and opened his eyes, smiling at the camera. He liked you, and he promised himself he would never tell you. His feelings didn’t matter, it wasn’t part of your deal.
Part 7
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lareinenoir · 3 years
Text
The Knots (Chris Evans Fanfic)
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Warning: swearing
Summary: You receive an email from your boss that says your hairstyle is not professional to be on TV. When Chris finds out, he isn’t to happy.
_________
“Hey baby.” Said Chris walking into the house, hugging you from behind as you stood over the stove, continuing to make stir fry. “How was your day?” He asks, leaning on your shoulder and laying a small kiss on your neck. 
“Fine.” You sighed and you toss some of the pork to Dodger who was laying on the ground right next to you. 
“Fine?” He questions with a head tilt and a small frown. “What happened?” He asks as you move the pan and walk over to the rice cooker to the other side of the island to the rice cooker. 
“Nothing, it was just a long day.” You smiled giving him a tiny spoonful of rice to try. “Good?” You asked quickly changing the subject and smiling at him as he nodded. “How was the shoot?” 
“It went really well” He chews, stealing another bite and nods up at the towel on your head. “ I didn’t see you on the news today? That was today, right?” He asks remembering your shared calendar and the fact that you had circled it in a red marker, A red PERMANENT marker. 
“No, I read the date wrong.” You said as he looked up
“What happened? Didn’t you do your hair last night?” he asks recalling the long night you had with wash day being yesterday and the style you decided to put your hair in. “Why’d you take it out, I liked it.” 
“I found a different style. You ready to eat?” You asked grabbing some plates and started plating the rice and and the pork veggie stir fry on top. “You want some plantains?” You ask him as you continue to dodge his question of, ‘whats wrong.’ “We can eat outside or at the table?” 
“Baby, whats wrong?” He asks once again as you stuff your mouth with rice. “Come on, you hardly said anything to me about your day.” 
“Chris, I really just don’t wanna talk about it.” You say with a mouthful, accidentally on purpose slamming your fork down and walk away from the island. “Honestly!” You shout going into your shared room and slamming the bathroom door shut. 
Ever since your big chop two years ago, you had always just left it out in it’s natural fro and put some products in it and if you were feeling fancy a few decorative hair pins and in the past year now more than ever. Chris loved your new found love for hair pins and little hair jewelry and bought you some. You always wanted to try Bantu knots and trying them out was a big step. Your husband was super excited and helped you out yesterday when it came to the washing, condition and moisturizing. You both were off that day and took advantage of it. You and Chris watched movies and ate some food with Dodger of course, laying at your feet as you sat on the bed and he helped you section the back of your hair.
“You wanna unlock the door?” He asks in a low voice, you could tell he had his lips to the doorknob and you sighed. “Did I say something wrong?” 
“No, you didn’t say anything” rolling your eyes and you open the door after hearing how concerned he sounded. “I’m not mad at you, OK. I just really had a shitty day and I really liked my hair and I have to redo it and find a different style-” you wiped the little tear that escaped from your eyelid. 
“Wait, why?” he asks as you stand in the door frame and he stood in front of you with his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down trying to comfort you. “Why are you changing your hair?” 
“I have to.” You sort of explain taking the towel off your head and grabbing the Shea moisture that stood on the end of the sink. “Go eat, never mind. Forget I said anything.” 
Chris shook his head at you as you began to part little sections adding some moisturizer. He narrowed his brow and let out a little laugh. “No, stop. Tell me what happened.” You knew how much your husband hated when you beated around the bush. Personally you just didn’t want to bother him with it, but you knew how caring he was and how would jump to help at every opportunity.
Good afternoon, 
Ms, Evans, you have been a  proud and responsible worker here on on Channel12. Your years of dedication and hard work have showed us nothing that we don’t know. As you may know when you started working for the Channel, you signed a contract that explained the dress code, which included the following, Males must wear a tie and a collared shirt with dress pants. Females must wear a skirt that goes no higher that the knee and a shirt that shows no cleavage. Pantsuits and suits for men and woman are permitted. No untamed hair is allowed while on the air. a warming will be permitted the first offence, the second is a write up, the third is suspension. Any other offences against the dress-code is automatic termination. With that being said, you will receive a write up for the untamed hairstyle that was chosen. Effective immediately it will need to be changed by tomorrow, noon, in order to be on the air. If the hairstyle is failed to be corrected, we will proceed with termination
please enjoy your day, 
Carter Rockman
“Chris, stop.” You said reaching for your phone. You saw the look in his eyes and he was livid. “Give it back, before you do something stupid.” You tell him as he holds your phone behind his back. His lips were tucked in as he stared at the ground. “Chris-” 
“What the hell is this?” he asks, finally looking up at you. Letting out a sigh, you shake your head. “I’m calling him, matter fact, I’m going up there right now. Grab your purse, we’re going right now-” 
“Chris stop.” You shake your head grabbing onto his arm as he went to grab the car keys from the counter. “This is exactly why I didn’t wanna tell you.” You said getting a bit frustrated and then laughing it off. “Don’t go up there-” 
“why not!” he said with a frown. “This is unacceptable.” He holds up your phone for emphasis. “You’ve been there for years. They can’t do this! On your ass because of your hair?” He scoffed.
“That’s just the way things are, babe.” You say, holding his face in your hands. The little beard he had going, made you smile down at his lips as you gave them a quick kiss. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll change my hair and get on with it. It’s not that big of a deal.” You said trying to reassure him. 
“Absolutely not! I come home to my wife who is upset and crying.” He retorts back shaking his head with a scoff. “You think I’m about to let this fly? Who is this man to tell MY wife that her hair is unprofessional and threatened termination because of it. Fuck that! They wouldn’t tell Viola Davis or Beyoncé or Tyra Banks or-“
“You don’t think I’m pissed too! I am beyond pissed, hell I’m more upset that I allowed it to happen anyway! People who look like me are judged all the time, especially with hair in the work industry. You of all people should know. There is nothing I can do about that. They aren’t going to change their minds because my husband says so. And even if they do, I don’t want them thinking just because my husband is Chris Evans-“
“I wouldn’t hold that against you and they sure as hell- they better not hold that against you.” He says still going off. “Why don’t you wanna fight this? It isn’t fair,babe...” he shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“ This isn’t Americas next top model. I’m not a model or an actresses or singer.” You shook your head. “I have to abide by the rules of my industry. If I act out or say ‘No’ or try and go against that, then I becomes the stereotype ‘Angry Black woman’.”
“Be angry! Baby, I don’t care.” Said Chris. “I’ll be there. We’ll be angry together-“
“That’s not the way it works.” You admitted holding onto his hands, giving him a pouty look. “I know theres a way to handle this, but I can’t risk my job.”
“Then quit.” He replied. “I provide way more than enough for us and Dodger.”He nodded over at the dog and you both laugh a little. Then he looks back at you and caresses your face. “You don’t need a job. I want you to be happy. That’s all.”
You brought him for a tight embrace as his arms wrapped around you tightly. You squeezed him and kissed his chest. “I love you.” You whisper as you both rocked back and forth. Pulling away you grin at him. “So, it’s five o’clock. I say we can finish some poetic justice braids in three hours if we start now.” 
“I’ll get the comb.” He replied as you head for your room. “And one more thing,” He tells you as you and your turn to look at him. “Your hair is beautiful. No matter what style it’s in.” He grinned
......
The End!
Hope you all enjoyed. Let me know if I should do a part II. Anyway, stay safe and healthy.
Xo- Fridai @allthingzhiddleston
@queenshikongo3 @thatoneperson5000 
@iam-laiya @victoriastefanie04 @arabescapr @pm-my-hubbies @honeymarvel @yanniebunny5151
@hookedinto-fictionalworlds @heartislubbingdubbing @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @nayr9e @kybaeza @multifacetedscorpio @naega-ooooooolf @schizonephilim @thatweirdwalangpake @grahoundart@kybaeza @nayrael @multifacetedscorpio@naega-ooooooolf @nirvanaslovechild @hisparadox @naughtybaroness30 @deansblackbeauty-deactivated202 @empressoftheundergroundsun @inlovewith3 @smartiedork @gerli49 @spookytyphoonbouquetsblog @angelicvixenn @wtfcantfindus @megapeacelovemusic-blog
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eutxrpe · 4 years
Text
hcs: hair care with bnha core three
hello! i hope you guys are doing well and much love! - xio ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ hcs: bnha boys helping their black s/o with their curls.
pairings: midoriya x black!reader, todoroki x black!reader, bakugo x black!reader
warning: fluff ⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ izuku midoriya
is the sweetest and gentlest with your hair!!
he researched a lot before even asking if he could touch your curls. 
izuku watched all the youtube videos and your hair routines to take notes on it.
he’s naturally a god at detangling and even massages your scalp a little as he does so.
gives you his old t-shirts to dry your hair with.
loves doing wash days with you. izuku’s got your favorite snacks, moisturizers, and comb already set out.
(it’s my personal hc that deku tans extremely fast and well because he has black relatives, so he knows the struggle.)
midoriya picks up braiding really easily, so ask him to do your box braids. it’ll take him a while if you ask him to take them down because he’s trying not to hurt you.
always asks if you need help with your hair if you look frustrated.
likes doing hair masks together.
asks you about the cultural significance of your hair, and after learning about it, izuku won’t hesitate to slap someone’s hand if it goes in the direction of your hair.
he probably creates a schedule to do your hair.
“want to train together, deku?”
“no, i have plans with (y/n). it’s wash day!”
treats your hair like the crown it is!
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ katsuki bakugo
ooo, before meeting you, he did not know anything. 
he examines your routine and hairstyles because he’s not asking you yet. afterwards, baku actually is knowledgeable when it comes to your hair.
listens carefully when you teach him.
can and will call you out if you don’t take care of your hair.
“you didn’t moisturize yesterday, did you, baka?” 
if you let bakugo take your braids down, he’s both careful and efficient... while yelling that you’re tender-headed.
really good at doing cornrows and crochet braids.
demands that he has to do your partitions. he wants his baby looking the best, alright?
since he wants your hair on point, he looks forward to wash day. it boosts his ego to see you share something so special with him. 
bakugo makes sure that your style is perfect all day.
thinks that space buns are adorable! (use that to your advantage if you can)
y’all have matching scarves and bonnets.
will yell and roast anyone who has the audacity to touch your hair without permission.
is inwardly shook at all of the different hairstyles you pull off.
⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆ shoto todoroki
is the literal definition of confusion when looking at your hair.
you walk into class with a twist-out, the next day, you have bantu knots, and next week, you’re rocking some faux locs. shoto’s brain is spinning, because he probably combs his hair flat in the morning and that’s it.
he has so many questions for you.
once you answer them, he’s still a bit overwhelmed. he definitely wants to help, but does not know how to approach your curls.
with your permission, shoto enjoys running his hands through your hair. his fingers are nimble, and sometimes you swear he’s trying to put you to sleep.
massages your scalp lovingly since he can’t fathom most of your hairstyles.
buys and orders you the best products that he can with his father’s credit card.
fixes and caresses your bonnet throughout the night.
much like izuku, todoroki enjoys the feeling of a mask on his hair.
considers wash day to be incredibly intimate
after a lot of practice and help from you, shoto gets really good at helping you maintain a twist-out or a wash and go.
“love, you look... ethereal.”
considers it adorable when you complain about your curls when you always look good to him. lots of kisses to your hairline and forehead.
is fascinated by your culture and up for listening to you whenever. the contrast between you and his japanese traditions amazes him.
fin.
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nitewrighter · 3 years
Note
Hey Nite! Hope everything's good with you.
Can you please write something with Aedan and Seye exuding wholesome "boys will be be boys" energy?
I don’t have enough fics in Numbani. I should fix that.
----
Daylight streamed warm and bright through the skylights of Ogundimu Prosthetics’ vast lobby. The lobby seemed midway between a museum’s sculpture room and a glamorous lounge in line with Numbani’s afrofuturist and solarpunk aesthetics. An indoor waterfall distorting a mosaic of green, orange, and gold tiles served as the dramatic backdrop for the reception desk, the water streaming around it in a similarly tiled furrows in the floor, meeting in a miniature indoor canal that streamed forward and then split apart again, watering a small island of verdant tropical plants and brightly flowering orchids. These plants were only the frame for the sculpture that served as the centerpiece of the grand lobby. The sculpture was of an attractive family, donning clothes that seemed similar to neoclassical greek togas and drapery, but had familiar Adire designs painstakingly engraved into the glossy black stone ‘cloth’ as well as intricately beaded Yoruba jewelry.
Each member of the family donned a prosthetic--the mother standing contrapposto style on one golden leg to support the baby on her hip, one chubby golden fist in his mouth. The older daughter was squeezing her father’s hand and following his gaze skyward, her hair styled into a bantu knot mohawk, probably to draw more attention to the golden spinal implants trailing down her back. The father sculpture was lifting his other, golden prosthetic arm skyward, fingers delicately unfurling in a yearning, hopeful gesture. Despite the reputation of Akande Ogundimu, Ogundimu Prosthetics only seemed elevated by its association with him---and this lobby painted a beautiful, almost mythical image of the future.
Seye’s face scrunched with concern as he scrolled through the tablet, leaning against the side of one of the lobby couches. “...is this a joke?” he asked.
“You said you wanted more involvement in my work,” said Doomfist with a slight shrug.
“This isn’t your work, this is babysitting,” Seye said, frowning.
“He’s only a few years younger than you,” said Akande with a shrug.
“A few--!” Seye sputtered, “You said he got flushed out of the tank a couple months ago!”
“Well yes, but with the artificial aging process--”
“Eyi oda--” Seye huffed but he begrudgingly looked over at his father as Akande put a hand on his shoulder.
“Aedan represents years of effort on O’Deorain’s end, as well as the future of Talon’s pursuits with nanite technology. I’m not sticking you with a babysitting job, Seye. I’m trusting you with a task more delicate than any other mission I’ve ever assigned. I wouldn’t trust this with anyone else,” Doomfist spoke calmly.
Seye’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m not saying any of this to boost your ego. I’m saying this so you understand that not only are personal and professional relationships are at stake, but also Talon’s genetic and nanobot research.”
Seye pursed his lips for a few seconds, gauging Doomfist’s face. There was a slight twitch in the corner of Doomfist’s mouth, but more of a sort of easy amusement, the recognition of a younger version of himself in Seye’s ambition and skepticism. Seye could find no trace of deception in his father’s face, and he was the first to break eye contact.
“Just... show him a fun time,” Akande shrugged, “Go show watch a Flash Brighton movie or something.”
Seye arched an eyebrow and then rolled his eyes.
“The kids still like Flash Brighton, right?” Akande’s voice twisted with some unsureness and Seye just snorted. “Well if all else fails, there’s the executive pool.”
The sound of the main doors opening to the lobby was only barely audible over the sound of the fountain, and two narrow, pale figures topped off by red hair walked in. Moira’s gaze was fixed forward, dressed in a casual white-and-fallow pantsuit and large dark sunglasses, folded parasol on one shoulder, and Aedan was... a gawking gangly disaster in a wide-brimmed hat, batik shirt, and bermuda shorts that, along with his constant wide-eyed looking around, screamed ‘tourist.’
Seye shot an incredulous look at his father, but Akande was already closing the distance between himself and Moira.
“O’Deorain, looking stunning as usual,” he said with a congenial nod of his head.
“You as well,” said Moira, taking off her sunglasses and folding them, “The city of Harmony agrees with you.”
“It agrees with everyone, that’s its problem,” said Akande with a slight smirk, he gestured at Seye, “You’ve met Seye.”
“Looking more handsome every time I see him,” said Moira, folding her arms and smiling.
“Uh...thanks,” said Seye, itching behind his ear.
“And who could forget Aedan?” said Akande, smiling, “Good to see you back on your feet.”
“T-thank you sir,” said Aedan, before looking around the lobby again, “I--I’ve been here before, right?”
“Yeeeah,” said Seye slowly, remembering his briefing from the tablet.
“He’s still a bit disoriented from the accident,” Moira spoke in a slightly hushed voice and both Akande and Seye nodded.
“Well,” Akande pocketed his hands, “Seye can show him around while we catch up, can’t you Seye?”
“Yeah,” Seye said a little too automatically, before clearing his throat, “Uh--yeah, I can show him around.”
“We’ll leave you two to it,” said Akande, walking off with Moira.
“Stay out of trouble, a thaisce,” said Moira, over her shoulder.
“Okay, Mum,” said Aedan, readjusting the strap of his messenger bag.
Both Aedan and Seye stood in the lobby, watching as Moira and Doomfist headed towards the elevator, quietly chatting.
A few seconds passed, the only sound being the half-tuned out half-cavernous sound of the indoor waterfall. Seye glanced back at Aedan, who seemed to have become fixated with some of the plants surrounding the lobby's central statue.
"So..." Seye started and Aedan glanced up at him. "You... uh... have a good flight?"
"Slept through most of it, so... yeah I guess," said Aedan, not really making eye contact.
"You wanna drop off your bag somewhere?" asked Seye.
"I'm fine," said Aedan. 
Another pause passed between them.
Jeez, give me something to work with if we’re going to be stuck together all afternoon, Seye thought a bit resentfully. But he kept his expression neutral, midway between poker face and ‘Ogundimu Prosthetics Youth Advocate’ pleasant blankness. 
“Did you bring a swimsuit?” Seye blurted out, “We’ve got a pool up in the greenhouse.
“You have a greenhouse?” Aedan’s face brightened. 
---
Seye leaned against the glass wall of the elevator, watching the lobby shrink underneath them.
Aedan had started looking around again. He seemed concerned.
And damn skinny, thought Seye, And too polite. The lower ranks would eat him alive.
“You doing okay?” asked Seye.
“Yeah,” said Aedan, “Yeah...” he pursed his lips for a few seconds, “I... I feel like I should remember more...”
“It’s not your fault if you can’t,” said Seye with a shrug, remembering the script sent to him that had so many annotations by Moira handwritten in red ink that you’d think it had been stabbed, “It doesn’t make you a bad person if you can’t remember.”
“I know,” said Aedan, glancing down.
“I mean you’re like... what, 10? 
“I’m turning 11 in October,” said Aedan.
“I mean as far as hardcore amnesia goes, that’s not too bad,” Seye shrugged as the elevator dinged when they reached the rooftop greenhouse.
There was a small dressing area with a few showers near the pool, and Seye pulled on his own swim trunks. He only gave a short glance over his shoulder to see Aedan pulling off that boxy batik shirt, his back to him. There were pink marks at even intervals down Aedan’s spine and at the joints on his shoulders and arms--the ghost of scarring from Mnemosyne teaching his muscles not to be completely useless lumps through a mix of electro-stimulation and artificial memory. His coral and teal swim trunks highlighted his awkward legginess as he stooped to slather on sunscreen. In a way it was somewhat endearing.  Seye felt like he was being armed with some secret, dangerous knowledge that the razor-thin, razor-sharp Moira O’Deorain was guaranteed a gawky marionette of a person at one point. 
Aedan was already walking off and Seye walked a bit briskly to keep up with him. Keep him in your sight, he thought, Like the briefing said.
He quickly rounded the corner to see Aedan facing a bunch of greenery.
“Can I take a clipping of your Ochyrae?” said Aedan, only hearing Seye’s footsteps.
“My what?” said Seye.
 “Not now, I mean, but later?” said Aedan, shifting his stance a little to reveal a delicate vine of chartreuse and maroon blooms, “It’s extraordinarily rare and I’d love to compare it to my other specimens. Especially one that can survive all the chlorine in the air here.”
“Yeah...” Seye said slowly.
Aedan’s face brightened. “Great!” he said before throwing his towel over his shoulder and heading out to the pool.
“You... like flowers then?” said Seye.
“And fungi!” said Aedan, “I don’t know if it was the accident but I really like how they just sort of... are. No worrying about memory. The genetic self is not distinguished from the species. I mean certainly there’s competition but they just... they calm me down.” 
“...distinguished from the species?” Seye repeated a little blankly. What the hell has Moira been filling his head with? he thought, This wasn’t in the briefing...
“Well... you know, genetically, I’m human, but there’s other stuff, on account of mum,” said Aedan.
“Right...” Seye said slowly as Aedan tossed his towel onto one of the lounge chairs next to the pool and hopped into the water. It splashed and slapped against his long limbs and he let his head slip beneath the surface before pushing up off the bottom of the pool and breaking the surface once again. The way his wet hair clung to his skull made Seye wonder if he looked like this coming out of the amnio-tank.
Probably slimier, he thought, mindlessly taking a crouched racing start dive and smoothly plunging through the water. There was more of a splash than career swimmers, and the muscles of his own conditioning didn’t allow for as much streamlining. 
“...were we good friends before the accident?” Aedan said, floating on his back. He was too skinny to be very buoyant.
“I mean...” Seye trailed off, bobbing through the water himself, “We didn’t hang out that much. You know that whole thing where adults who work together just kind of assume their kids will get along because they’re both kids but you’re both just kind of... there?”
“I... I think?” Aedan seemed to be scrabbling for any kind of memory of experience that would lend credence to Seye’s words.
“Plus, y’know, you’re younger. So it’s like... not like we were both really into the same stuff,” Seye tossed the words out casually.
“Oh...” Aedan seemed a bit disheartened at this.
“Look, between your mom and my dad’s work, it’s not like either of us had super-consistent friend situations,” Seye shrugged, “It’s not so bad and--” he made a vague gesture around them at the pool, “There’s perks.”
“Perks... yeah,” said Aedan slowly.
“’Course, we could be doing more if my dad didn’t have me stuck--” Seye caught himself.
“...Stuck?” said Aedan.
On stupid missions that aren’t really missions--like this---when I should be getting all the field experience I can, thought Seye, but that wasn’t his only frustration. He huffed a little. “Technically, I’m still in school,” he muttered, slowly treading water, “It’s pretty much what my mom insisted on and Dad is perfectly fine with it. Which honestly seems kind of stupid if the world as it’s being taught to me is going to be radically changed in the next few years with Talon’s work.”
“I dunno...I kind of wish I went to school,” said Aedan, “I’m always hearing about how Oasis has some of the best schools in the world, but Mum insists on private tutors for me.”
Too many kids mean too many questions, thought Seye, Too many variables. But the expression on Aedan’s face made something twinge in the pit of Seye’s chest. 
“Well... school isn’t nearly as exciting as what we get to work on with Talon, right?” said Seye, swimming up to Aedan.
Aedan scoffed a little. “Clearly you don’t have to deal with hours of PCR.”
“PCR?”
“Pipette, cry, repeat!” Aedan joked and then glanced expetantly at Seye, as if sure that joke would land, “...Polymerase chain reactions...” he said a bit awkwardly.
“Do you want to see what I’m working on?” said Seye.
“What are you working on?” Aedan perked up.
----
A quick shower, a fresh change of clothes, and an elevator ride later, they were in Seye’s own workshop tucked into a nice but negligible corner of the building. The view of Numbani just outside the small window was somehow both spectacular and intimate, but a little too bright for the room. 
“A decent amount of the design is taken from my dad’s own prosthetics,” Seye explained as Aedan turned a metal trapezoid over in his hands, “But I actually also took a lot of inspiration from crustaceans.”
“..one of the most optimal evolutionary designs,” said Aedan as the he set the trapezoid on the back of his hand and visibly flinched as it rapidly unfolded, coating his entire arm in lobster-plate-like armor, “...and it adapts to the size of its user...”
“It’s not one-size-fits all,” said Seye with a chuckle in his voice, as Aedan turned his arm over, marveling. 
“Pretty close,” said Aedan, grinning.
“Just don’t touch the thumb to the middle finger,” Seye warned.
“What? Like the Italian ‘that’s-a-spicy-meat-a-ball--’” Aedan unconsciously made the motion with his fingers and was suddenly flung back by a bright burst of green light flaring out from the palm of the gauntlet. He shot back and Seye flailed out an arm helplessly after him. 
Oh god Baba’s gonna kill me-- Seye thought as Aedan hurtled, rag dolling, to the wall behind him, but Aedan exploded into black smoke on impact. Seye’s breath caught in his throat. After about a second and a half, the black smoke reformed into Aedan’s swaying, lanky frame.
“Are you okay?!” Seye blurted out.
Aedan stumbled on his feet a little. “You...” he said woozily, “Really need to work on the recoil.” 
Seye watched him for a few seconds.  “Are. You. Okay?” he emphasized each word.
“Me?” Aedan blinked a few times and shook his head. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
A few seconds of silence passed between them.
“So...” Seye started slowly, “With the recoil... theoretically... how open are you to doing something like that again?”
“Do you need help with it?” said Aedan brightly, glancing back at his own gauntleted arm.
“Well...” Seye started hesitantly.
 “I mean, don’t feel like you need to accommodate me just to keep me occupied--”
“No!” Seye blurted out, “I mean... you’re sure what just happened didn’t hurt?”
“God, ever since the accident, everyone’s been treating me like I’m made of glass!” said Aedan, exasperated, “It didn’t hurt at all! Come on!”
A smile tugged at one corner of Seye’s mouth. “Okay, Twiggy,” he said with a grin, “Let me re-calibrate it and we’ll see how you do.”
“I’m not a fair judgment for how the gauntlet might affect your physiology, just so we’re clear,” said Aedan with a grin, “I mean we can’t all be beefcakes.”
Seye just snorted.
----
“So you see, O’Deorain, all is proceeding, albeit organically, at the rate we--” Doomfist was still talking as the elevator door opened while Aedan was once again hurtling back with the kickback of Seye’s gauntlet. He hit the wall in another explosions of smoke and reformed to a stumbling human form. 
“Hey, Mum!” Aedan flailed a wave as Moira stared next to Doomfist.
“Okay, did you feel that last one more in the shoulder or in the forearm, because--” Seye had a tablet and stylus and caught himself as he looked over to see both Doomfist and Moira staring at both of them.“...Dad,” said Seye.
“Son,” Doomfist said coolly.
“We went swimming, and Seye said I could take one of the orchids with me, and now we’re testing the twofists!” Aedan blurted out excitedly.
“How very interesting,” said Moira, her expression unchanged.
“We aren’t calling them the twofists,” said Seye flatly.
“I see,” said Doomfist.
“Unless the name like, sticks, you know how it is,” said Seye with a forced laugh.
“Can we come by more often?” Aedan asked, looking at Moira.
“Perhaps...” said Moira with a smile.
Seye glanced at Doomfist and brought his own hand up in a cautious thumbs-up. The next three seconds where he kept the thumbs-up extended and the forced smile on were some of the most harrowing in his life, until finally, Akande Ogundimu brought his own arm up in a begrudging thumbs-up.
In that moment, between the heat of his own nervousness and the regal glow of his father’s approval, Seye felt like he was molten gold. 
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gio-is-writing · 4 years
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Hi your writing is really good may I request Pt3 Jotaro with a s/o that is normally very confident, outgoing, friendly and bubbly but gets flustered easily by just literally hearing him talk or just being in his presence makes her blush and giddy but when they kiss oof she’s over the moon
REQUEST:  Hi your writing is really good may I request Pt3 Jotaro with a s/o that is normally very confident, outgoing, friendly and bubbly but gets flustered easily by just literally hearing him talk or just being in his presence makes her blush and giddy but when they kiss oof she’s over the moon
Thank you! I would be weak on the knees if I had Jotaro near me too. Also, I want Polnareff to be my best friend. Hope you like it!
Pairing: Kujo Jotaro x fem!Reader
Warnings: none, reader almost having a heart attack
WC: 1,018 
CRUSH
“Ok, listen up everyone” Mr. Joestar turned to the rest of the crusaders after spending almost 10 minutes on the main desk of the hotel “I’ll be sharing with Avdol”
“Jotaro and I should room together since we are both students” said Kakyoin looking back at Jotaro who only nodded
“Then that means…” Joseph turned to the only two other people with them, Polnareff and (Y/N).
The teenager looked at the concerned faces of Mr. Joestar and Kakyoin then at Polnareff who was anxiously waiting for her reaction; she laughed out loud, slapping Pol’s arm.
“No problem at all!” she smiled and took the key from the old man’s hand “I can handle this dumbass”
“Hey! Who are you calling dumbass?”
They bickered back and forth for a few minutes more until they broke into laughs
“Maybe we could have a walk around after everyone is settled” Avdol suggested
“Sounds good to me!” (Y/N) was quick to agree “Let’s meet here in 10 minutes”
Not long after everyone agreed on having a little tour around the city, (Y/N) grabbed Polnareff by the wrist and marched up the stairs to their room. After leaving their stuff on their room Polnareff decided to have a ‘quick trip to the bathroom’, the girl acknowledged him and left the room to meet the rest in the lobby.
Walking down the stairs she looked around for Kakyoin’s distinctive red hair or perhaps Avdol’s bantu knots, but the only one waiting there was none other than Jotaro, standing almost two heads over everyone else around him. (Y/N) gulped, she didn’t know how to act when it came to interacting with the teen ALONE even if they were almost the same age, all because of a simple reason; she had a crush. It was pretty obvious and she hated it, even if Jotaro had already showed some interest back (like holding her hand, or kissing her cheek once) she couldn’t help but become a mess in his presence.
‘Should I walk back to the room? Should I pretend I didn’t see him?” her mind was racing a hundred miles per minute but it all came to a stop when the main subject of her panic waved at her. ‘Shit! I can’t pretend now!’ she breathed out ‘It’s okay, just act like you always do’ and as she stepped down, she must’ve missed the last few steps of the stairs. Next thing she knew, she was in the air falling with her eyes closed tight.
But the blow against the floor never came, she slowly opened her eyes to a concerned Star Platinum holding her up to her feet again.
“Are you okay?” Jotaro’s voice was stoic as ever
“I-I.. umm.. y-yeah” she blushed madly as she pulled away almost as fast as her falling a few seconds ago. Jotaro smirked and lowered his hat, then looked up the stairs.
“I wonder where everyone is” he sighted
(Y/N) didn’t know what to say, ‘God! This isn’t your usual self, what’s your problem?!’ while having her inner battle she frowned, this was so irritating.
“Don’t frown” his voice interrupted her thoughts
“H-huh?”
“I said don’t frown, it doesn’t suit you.” Was this a way of complimenting her? If it was, she was about to pass out from the heat on her cheeks. Before she could even respond she saw Kakyoin walking to them, the rest of the crusaders close on his heels.
“Hey, I see you came down early too.” The red head commented as they all walked onto the street across the hotel.
They walked along the sidewalk of the main street while looking into little shops and food stands. While (Y/N) and Polnareff walked up in the front laughing and pointed at every little thing they saw, Avdol shared some interesting facts about the city with Kakyoin. Mr. Joestar looked into the map on his hands and stopped abruptly.
“Here it is!” everyone stopped walking to look back at him.
The old man looked up at the sign just above him, a fancy looking restaurant. He walked right in and the rest of the crusaders had no option but walk after him. After Mr. Joestar asked for a table for the six of them, the waiter guided them to a circular table near the street windows.
“This place looks nice” Polnareff whistled as they finally took their seats.
The boys started some conversation while (Y/N) seated completely frozen in her chair, next to Jotaro. She didn’t even notice when Mr. Joestar ordered almost every dish on the menu. If it wasn’t for Avdol that was sitting on the other side of her starting a conversation she would’ve been gone for hours, red as a tomato.
After apparently forgetting who was seated beside her and chatting the rest of the evening, she noticed the darkening sky outside. I was almost night time when they walked out of the restaurant and on their way back to the hotel.
Once they were on the floor where the rooms were, they bid their goodnights to each other. Polnareff walked first into the room and left the door open for (Y/N) to follow but she was stopped by someone calling her name. She turned her head to the hallway where the tall Japanese stood. ‘Oh God.’ Her mouth went completely dry and her feet stuck to the ground where she stood by the door.
“I just wanted to say one last thing” he murmured lowering his hat. She was wide eyed but soon broke out of it, walking slowly towards him.
“Yes?” first time she didn’t stutter.
“Have a nice sleep”
Without warning he lowered his head until his lips touched hers in a kiss. She stood in complete shock with her eyes open but after a second, she slowly closed them rising a hand to his cheek. In another second Jotaro pulled away and lowered his hat even more, if it was even possible.
“Y-you too Jotaro”
He was turning on his heels towards his room when he heard her running to hers, shutting the door loudly. He chuckled.
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woahitslucyylu · 4 years
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Big Sister. (Part I)
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GIF not mine - credit to OG creator. 
Well, Coco’s back at it again. This is Part I. 
Notes: Big sister/sister refer to sorority sisters and a Big Brother-Big Sister program. There is no biological relation. It is a relationship term only. 
------------------------------------------------------“What’s the theme this weekend?” Letty sipped her milkshake as the car idled at the light. “You won’t believe it - bikers.” You couldn’t control your giggles. “I already have an idea of my outfit. Here, look.” You passed the phone to Letty as you turned onto the gravel road of the Romero Brothers scrap yard. 
“Oh, shit - I have the perfect shirt. They’re inside. Come in.” Letty pleaded as you stopped in front of the service office. “They’re club shirts, but you could easily crop it.” Letty drew an imaginary line across her midriff. “Only if you help me!” You turned off the car and followed Letty into the clubhouse. Letty was your Little Sister through your sorority’s mentoring program and you had fallen in love with her. She reminded you so much of yourself from not so many years ago, and you felt convicted to lead her down the right path. 
The cool air was shocking as you stepped into the log cabin-esque clubhouse. You had never been in before - despite dropping Letty off here weekly. “Wait here. I’ll go grab them. Help yourself to whatever you want.” Letty tossed her book bag absentmindedly on a leather couch and headed down a dark hallway - leaving you alone. 
“Aye, can I help you?” The dead voice sent chills through your body. Your back was towards the door and you suddenly felt vulnerable. “I, I am...waiting for Letty. She’s getting me a shirt.” You smiled confidently - turning to face the speaker. Years of pageants and public speaking had given you false confidence in the most desperate times. 
“Oh shit, it’s you. Where’s Letty? Is everything okay?” Coco rolled his eyes at your presence. “Oh, yeah, she’s getting me a shirt. I hope that’s okay.” You gestured down the hall as you walked closer to Coco and his small group. 
“Aye, who is you? Coco, you aren’t going to introduce us?” The speaker was tall and his eyes dark - already glassy with lust as he looked you up and down. Coco grimaced, lighting another cigarette under the pressure - “Angel, this is -----. She works with Letty on school and shit.” Coco shrugged his shoulders towards you. He wasn’t ashamed he needed help. What did he know about being a father? What did he know about being a father to a 16 year old girl? He was grateful you were so involved with Letty. 
“Here, I found one.” Letty appeared, breathless, holding her heather gray prize in her hand. “It’s too big to crop, but you can knot it in the back or under your boobs.” Letty held her hands in front of you, modeling a bantu knot. “Leticia, what the fuck are you talking about?” Coco’s voice was gruff in an attempt to parent the semi-inappropriate conversation. “Coco, she has a party to go to! It’s biker themed. She needed a biker t-shirt.” Letty threw her hands up in dramatic fashion. 
You couldn’t contain the giggles - Coco and Letty were one of your favorite forms of entertainment. “Letty said she could give me one. I hope that’s okay. I think it would add to my outfit.” Your voice was sincere as you stared into Coco’s dark eyes. There was something about him that held your breath and tingled in your belly. “Yeah, yeah, you good. Enjoy.” Coco couldn’t hold her gaze for long. It made him nervous. You seemed to see right through him. 
“Aye, a biker party? Need real bikers? I know a few.” Angel winked at you and gestured to Coco, EZ, and Gilly. You smirked as you walked back towards your car - “Ah, maybe another time, right? Love you, Letty!” You ended the shout with a kiss blown to Letty. 
“Oh, okay, next time is good.” Angel quipped as you drove out of sight. 
———————————————————————
How many shots was this? You had lost count. “Ugh, who bought Burnette’s?” You shudder as the alcohol warmed your body. The party was loud and crowded as thick rap beats pulsed through the room. You had decided to cut and tie the Mayans shirt from Letty - forming it to your tiny frame with knotted sides. It had been a hit and you had won best costume for women. 
“Aye, come here. Take my picture.” You thrust the phone toward your semi-sober sister. You felt brave. “Just make me look sexy.” You struck poses against the blank hallway wall - pouting your lips for effect as she moved closer to frame your face. 
“Here. I got good lighting.” Your sister smiled - tucking her arm through yours as you scrolled the available images. “Who are you sending it to?” Your friend’s voice was sing-song, teasing you as you selected a close up of your cleavage and pouty lips. “Oh, just a friend.” You waved her away as the picture popped into the message. The cursor flashed at you tauntingly as you typed in “C, o, c, o” and hit send. You couldn’t think about it - if you did, it might have been ruled too dangerous or too scandalous, and you were living for the thrill. 
Coco sat at the table - his cards tucked as he watched the others ante up. Letty was staying with a friend for the night, and he had taken advantage of being able to kick back with his friends. “Aye, I’m out.” He folded his shitty hand - he swore Angel cheated when dealing the cards and sat back, watching the rest of the game. 
Coco reached for his phone - it had been a couple of hours since he had heard from Letty, and he needed to check in with her. As the lock screen vanished, Coco choked on his beer. “Bro, you okay?” Gilly smacked Coco’s back as he scrambled to keep the phone away from view. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ma call Letty.” Excusing himself, he moved outside to the porch and privacy. 
He took a deep breath  and opened the message again. There you were - well, parts of you anyways - on his screen, posing seductively in the shirt from Letty. He felt his face flush as he studied the picture again - he was stunned. You were Letty’s friend - well, mentor - whatever the fuck you were, and this was not something he expected. 
You stood in the corner - watching the last match of beer pong as you waited for Coco’s response. It had been ten minutes - was he offended? Was he uninterested? Why did you care if he was either? Taking another shot, you took another risk and sent a tongue-in-cheek message, “Can I go for a ride?” 
Coco lit another cigarette - inhaling as he read the next message in the chat. “Fuck me.” His voice was breathless as he typed, “Any time you want, ma” and sent it without a thought. 
Your heartbeat quickened as you felt your phone vibrate in your lap. You were sandwiched in an Uber on the way to In N Out. You read the message and smiled, “Tonight?” was the only reply you could think of. 
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haaarry · 4 years
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someone submitted their work to me so i thought i’d share!
- submission -
Wash Day
Wash days are honestly the worst days of the month. It's a lot of work, but a good arm workout. Recently, I've had a helper with the ritual, and he's definitely trying his hardest. It soon became our ritual, something that he always scheduled for when he's home. It always made my heart soar when he brought out everything we would need with a bright smile. Throughout the day, we would get food delivered and took constant breaks, although I totally used it as an excuse to kiss him, but regaining feeling in my legs is nice too.
Today was no exception. I woke up to Harry poking my face.
"'Afternoon lovie. You slept in" I groaned and pulled him closer to me. He radiated warmth and I wasn't willing to let that go just yet.
"Five more minutes." He chuckled and plucked my forehead.
"y/n. First, it’s 2 in the afternoon. Second, its wash day." Part of me didn't want to deal with it, but part of me knew it had to be done. "Harryyyyyy. We'll do it next week." I wanted to stage it off and just spend the time with Harry. Harry laughed and rolled his eyes.
"You said that last week. You told me to be on you about it." He's right though. I've been natural for 4 years now, and now that I don't have to wear wigs or weaves to work, I want my natural hair to look great.
"Ugh. Fine. Grab The Bucket." The Bucket is a bucket that is filled with all my hair stuff. My combs, gel, creams, brushes, etc. The only thing not in there is the stuff I use in shower, which stays in the bathroom. Harry grabs it and finds my pre-poo, the stuff I put in my hair before I wash it. Harry always laughs at the name, which I never fail to roll my eyes at.
I sit up and section off half of my hair, one half for him, and one half for me. He sits next to me, the bed and blanket making noise at being disturbed. He places all of his rings on the nightstand, and I silently thank that they won’t stuck in my hair again. I hear Harry mumbling to himself.
“y/n, I hope you know that your hair is such a diva.” I smile and roll my eyes.
“It just might outshine you in that field.” Harry physically moved back and if he was wearing pearls, he would totally be clutching them.
“I am in no way high maintenance. How could you lie like that?” Harry started pouting, and quickly pecked his lips and he poked my cheek before going back to my hair. When we're done, we wrap them in bantu knots, which I have to say Harry's getting better at.
We make our way to the living room, where Harry turns on the TV and tosses me the remote. "I hope you know this means Disney movies, right?" Harry folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"If that means I get you hear your cute voice singin' along, I'm game." I smiled at him and he beamed before stealing a warm kiss and pulled me in by my hips. "God, I've been wantin' to do that since I woke up." It was my turn to raise an eyebrow.
"And what stopped you?" He smirked at me question and kept his face inches apart from mine.
"'Cause we would've stayed in bed, and that defeats the whole purpose of me tryna get you out." I rolled my eyes and scoffed but I knew he was right. His smirk got even cockier, and I pointed at the corner and gasped. When Harry looked, I ran to the bathroom to start washing my hair. "Babe, what was that for?" It was cute that I essentially hear him pouting. "I need to wash my hair, and if you saw me naked, you wouldn't keep you hands to yourself!" Harry laughed and I heard him outside the bathroom door. "Its hard to keep my hands off of someone as gorgeous as you. It's not enough to admire you from afar." I shook my head at his comment.   "Harry, you're just trying to get in my pants, aren't you?" I heard a quiet "maybe", and laughed at him. "This is your punishment for making me be responsible!" He chuckled and since I heard silence, I assumed he moved back to the living room.
After shampooing I started deep conditioning, and left my hair in twists while I kept it tucked away in a plastic cap. When Harry saw me coming out of the shower, he smiled and brought plastic bags over to the couch. The rustling of the bags filled the room, and soon, so did the scent of curry. I sat down next to him on the couch and we just dug into the food.
After eating, Harry and I perused our social media pages while I waited on the deep conditioning to work its magic. We kept on sending each other stupid photos and videos. I always knew he found something because he would look focused while tapping away on his phone and then stare at me to see my reaction. When I reacted the way he hoped, he looked so happy, and smiled so brightly. I wish I could frame that smile and capture all the feelings it brings to me. I think his favorite thing to send are cute animals, because, and this is according to him I look “soft and adorable”. He was in the middle of arguing for why we should go to a zoo when the timer on my phone rang, and Harry pouted. "y/n, can’t you stay for a while longer? I’m just about to make a case that we should just visit a sanctuary." I could hear the pouting in his voice. I tapped his nose. "After I wash out the mask. It’s going to take forever. Especially when I start thinking about potentially engaging with them and start getting all sappy about them." He grumbled quietly, and I went back to wash out the mask, and condition my hair. Once out of the shower, I grabbed an old t-shirt and started patting my hair dry with it, and squeezing gently. Harry set up the living room, so that there was a high chair behind the couch so he could help.
“I still think we should go to a sanctuary.” I smiled as I sat on the couch and Harry settling on the chair behind me.
“Yes, but if you think you’d be able to easily convince me to come back home after bonding emotionally with an animal, you’re wrong.” Our black cat hopped into my lap and curled up. He likes falling asleep on my lap sometimes while I do my hair. I call it family bonding time, and Harry just thinks its adorable because I will refuse to move until Anansi does.
“Babe. Anansi climbed onto your shoulder and started headbutting you. You refused to leave the shop without the little bugger.”
“Anansi is an absolute baby and I love him. And clearly he loves me back.” As if on cue, Anansi let out a soft purr. Harry laughed and pointed prodded the bucket next to him with his foot.
“So what’re we doin’?” I looked at the bucket, and then realized I wanted Harry to suffer.
“Cornrows.” I saw Harry look nervous, but I think he’s got it. I’ve caught him late at night watching videos on how to cornrow hair, and practicing on a hair head he bought. He doesn’t know I’ve seen him, and I don’t plan on telling him. “It’ll be good practice for you. As long as you don’t mess up too bad, I can just do them again.” Harry nodded and his nervousness turned into determination.
After putting leave-in conditioner, oil, and cream into my hair, we got to work. I put on Hercules to so we have something to do. It did hurt a little while he braided my hair, but it’s not the worst. We sang along and sometimes he would stop singing suddenly, just to hear me on my own. I know his little trick, but I think its cute that I go along with it.
In the middle of him braiding my hair, he stopped suddenly.
“I was just reminded of why I fell in love with you.” I laughed awkwardly, just thrown off guard.
“That was random but now you have to tell me.” Harry let out a soft chuckle.
“I fell in love with you when you came to an event with me while wearing an afro. I know how uncomfortable it was for you, and how big it was for you, but seeing you slowly gain confidence through the night, and how breathtaking you were, being authentically you. You would be just as breathtaking in a wig though. Just knowing that you were being unapologetically yourself, that’s what made me fall in love with you.” Halfway through his speech I stopped braiding, and turned to look at him. Anansi re-shuffled in my lap.
“You’re right. I was uncomfortable. But what got me through was knowing that you still saw me as the most beautiful girl in the room. There’s a bunch of people who think that we shouldn’t be together. But seeing the way you looked at me, all my fears melted away. I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you scold a woman for touching my hair without asking me first and letting her have it as professionally as you could.” Harry laughed before speaking.
“I know it’s a big thing about not touching hair, and I get it. It’s a lot of work to do your hair sometimes, and other times, its just weird to randomly touch someone’s hair.”
“You know better than them in that aspect.” Harry and I laughed before I turned back around, the both of us continuing our braiding. “I love you.”
“I love you too lovie.” Harry leaned over and kissed my forehead.
After we finished braiding my hair, Harry and I cuddled on the couch, Anansi also managing to get in on the cuddle puddle. He did a good job braiding and I’m proud of him. I’m also proud of myself too. I’m wearing my natural hair to work sometimes and feel fully comfortable in it. We’ve both come a long way, and we’ll continue to grow on this journey.
I was super inspired by your latina fic and also wanted to give an ever bigger fuck you to the racist anons so here we have a dark-skinned y/n with natural hair!
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