#but I also love the amount of attention put in party members | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theladyismyshepard · 5 months

Text

Stamp of Approval

(The party's most favored memory of your journey)

A little note on Wyll's piece: My original playthrough I invaded the Iron Throne Prison INSTEAD of attending the ceremony that Gorthash invites the party to, so if it doesn't make sense, I'm going off the logic of what I encountered with doing that

Shadowheart –

The growth in relationship between you and Shadowheart was a slow, methodical journey on your part. The curiosity would burn right below your skin, a need to reach out and seek for more. She wasn’t much of an open book, preferring to keep her secrets to heart, and you knew with just the wrong amount of prodding, it would push her further away, an irreparable rift severed between the two of you. It didn’t take much consideration to give her the space she wordlessly demanded, just a lot of willpower.

You ignored Lae’zel’s mocking comments comparing you to a “lovesick pup waiting hand and foot” when you made every effort to appease Shadowheart’s interests. It was always worth it to watch her face light up with inspiration when you took every measure to serve upon the Gods or learn of their works. Shadowheart absorbed the knowledge you ascertained and allowed it to fuel her guidance upon herself and the rest of the party. You try to reason with yourself that you would put in as much effort for everyone as you do for Shadowheart, but you also can’t deny that none of the others can cause a pool of heat to warm your very core with nothing but a polite smile.

She knew how to draw you in, she did so with no effort on her part when you encountered her bound form trapped inside a pod on the nautiloid. You weren’t exactly sure what she found so intriguing in you. You initially considered your unlikely title of “hero”, but you noticed she only had so much patience and approval with your habit of putting literally everyone ahead of yourself (and the cure) before deeming it too self-destructive.

However, it was glaringly obvious she would never disapprove of you taking on the responsibility of caring for the strays that crossed your path. Astarion and Lae’zel had a begrudging resignation for being slowly outnumbered by animal life, whereas Shadowheart and Karlach had an aura of child-like glee about themselves. You would never forget the first morning you had awoken in camp after you had first spotted Scratch circling the dead body of his former master and felt the overwhelming need to accept him as your own. He looked so jolly, as if there was nothing at all wrong in the world so long as you were by his side, and you couldn’t help but to unleash all of your love and affection onto him. Your attention was so absorbed, that you almost missed the small smile gracing Shadowheart’s lips along with the subtle crinkle around her eyes as she watched you. It was a look of raw approval which she smoothed out once she noticed your attention was on her.

As you scouted and looted throughout your travels, you came across a tattered stuffed bear one day. It was an impulsive decision to stop and store it away in your bag, a fleeting thought of Shadowheart was what prompted it. You weren’t aware of every bit of information that she could provide, but you did know that the huge gaps in her memory offered both a blessing and a curse. She wasn’t granted the best of childhoods, and you couldn’t help the thought of a young Shadowheart, alone and without the comfort of even a stuffed companion. The rush of adrenaline that came with the sudden need to give it to her, to watch the happiness brighten every corner of her face had you bouncing on each step back to camp.

You entailed the assistance of a couple members of the party: Karlach and Astarion. The vampire offered a delicate hand that was skilled in the craft of sewing to gently pull the stuffed bear back together. After you carefully handwashed the toy in the river that you camped near, Karlach took her duty very seriously. You couldn’t help the smile as her tongue poked out the side of her mouth in concentration as she balanced her heat accordingly to dry the toy of excess water without setting it ablaze.

That was some time ago, and as you gazed down at the well-used stuffed bear, you felt a bit foolish for the timing. The party’s mounting problems had a snowball effect, and once one situation ended, another began in its place. You stood outside of Shadowheart’s tent, where you had been for the past few minutes contemplating if you should grant her the space she required when processing things. You had just convinced her to let go of her parents, to end the struggle and curse binding the entire family to Shar. It was like poison coating your tongue, knowing how hard the road was getting to the House of Grief and everything that Shadowheart had given up for that exact moment, but it felt so wrong to go against the desperate pleas of her parents, begging you to end Shar’s torment for them all because they knew their daughter had not the strength for it.

“Did you want something? If not, I’m perfectly happy to just gaze upon you a while.” The greeting caught you off-guard and as you looked upon her false bravado, down to the pain swirling just below the surface, you could feel yourself start to break in guilt. You threw your arms around her, the stuffed bear squashed between your bodies, and apologized thickly.

“It was the right thing to do… even if I can’t bring myself to believe it just yet– oh… what is this?”

“I wasn’t sure if you had anything of comfort when you really needed it back then, so I wanted to make sure you had something now… It was cute, so naturally it reminded me of you,”

There was a newfound softness to her eyes as they darted all across your face, taking in the embarrassed red flare on your cheeks to the subtle sheen of sweat collecting atop your brow. As you attempted to joke and smile off the sentiment, her hands cupped the back of your neck as easily as if she had done so all her life, and pulled you down into a passionate kiss marred only by her building grin.

“I love it… I love you,” You were filled to the brim with warmth every time you looked over during your many months of traveling when it was all said and done and would spot the stuffed bear tucked into her own travel bag, refusing to leave it behind anywhere.

Karlach –

Your romance with Karlach roared to life fairly quickly, but that was to be expected with someone like her. When you’re living on borrowed time, and death was always a step away to collect it back, everything burned brighter, as did the relationship between you two. You could hardly remember a time when you had been led to believe her to be this devil reigning chaos everywhere she went. For she was the most adorable woman you had ever met, and her bubbly personality had you instantly head over heels.

You found Karlach easily inspired as you traveled and explored new areas of Faerun. The look of awe on her face made the whole situation feel as though it were nothing more than an adventure, a quest to ensure Karlach had seen it all and done it all. There was always a bittersweet ache lodged in your chest when you were granted the sight of sparkles in her eyes. Even more so when she thanked you for it… as if you shouldn’t be on your knees thanking her for her very existence.

After Dammon had informed the two of you of the severity of Karlach’s condition, you didn’t even dare approach the topic of her returning to Avernus. It was unthinkable to push her back into her worst nightmare that she fought tooth and nail to crawl her way out of. You pull yourself together because no matter how much it broke your own heart, no one was more cheated here than Karlach herself, and you had to be strong enough to soothe her pain, not the other way around (even though you knew her to be so selfless that she would). You keep her close when you all travel, making sure some part of you is always touching some part of her at all times, and you know she greatly approves of the physical contact when she randomly grins down at you from time to time.

Weeks worth of whispered words and frantic touches had your personal goals shifting. When you had first awoken on the nautiloid, you cared for little else aside from curing yourself of the tadpole taking shelter behind your eye, but as you heard more of Karlach’s life, you grew scornful of Zariel and Gortash. The purest of souls was the grandest treasure to the devil indeed, but Karlach was a Goddess that rose above while you yourself were falling. She didn’t even need to ask if you would help avenge her– that was a given. Your journey had taken you this way and that, pitting you against foe of every kind… You could handle descending into the Hells and waging wars on devils.

Because you already did… summoning the portal in the House of Hope led you directly to Raphael’s home in the Hells, and it revealed so much to you– the Orphic Hammer that aided in your quest to free Orpheus, the poor, demented soul of Hope, who guided you the whole way, and the glaring fact that Karlach felt the most at ease that you’ve ever seen her to be. Her breathing was easier, her movements weren’t jerky or rigid with pain so she wasn’t bouncing around to loosen herself up as she constantly did in the mortal realm. You could almost get used to the sight… almost. You also tried to ignore the fluidity of her being, seeing as you knew it to be short-lived, but as you noticed Karlach’s immediate attachment to Hope, you couldn’t stop the onslaught of design.

You bit your tongue after Raphael fell and after Hope thanked you tremendously with the promise of bringing sanctuary to her former prison. Once the party returned to Baldurs Gate, Karlach’s grunt of pain was immediate as were the flames dancing along her flesh. There was a single bead of sweat dripping down her temple that your eyes followed along with until they snapped to her pained smile. She tried so hard to comfort you despite her own agony, and you were starting to think it was because she didn’t know how to accept comfort enough to let you try and do the same. As you lean forward and carefully kiss the ragged breath from her lungs, you continue to bite your tongue.

You could not bite your tongue when she (in Karlach fashion) offered to take on the Astral Tadpole to gain the full Mind Flayer potential. She reasoned it would be an edge on the battlefield that they couldn’t pass up and went even further as to say that her time was running out anyway… She had not a selfish bone in her body, and that was why you found a selfish backbone for her. Karlach was made up entirely of soul and willpower, and you refused to allow her to give up what absolute little she had left. You would sooner die than let that happen, and while you would agree with anyone claiming your soul was to be damned to the Hells, you happily pushed the weight of the Astral Tadpole in Orpheus’ direction. Karlach was quiet on and off the battlefield following your call, and it was gnawing at you, knowing that it was bothering her.

“Copper for your thoughts, darling?” She can’t help but smile at her own words played back to her, and didn’t protest when you sat down next to her outside her tent.

“I just… It doesn’t make sense to me. My life is pretty much moot at this point, it’s just a matter of when. I could’ve had one last hurrah, yeah? A fighter till the end,”

“At the cost of your soul, Karlach? It was my decision in the end, if anyone is to be plagued with guilt it should be me, but I think you should know that I don’t regret it,”

“But why!” exclaimed Karlach in exasperation, her eyes misting over in a mixture of irritation and sorrow, “I’m dying anyway, soldier, there was no other option than-”

“Than changing your whole being?” You challenge, moving to where you were practically in her lap. “We’ve already sacrificed and fought for so much, Karlach, it’s time you get to rest, baby, and call me selfish, but all I want to do is rid ourselves of this parasite, and find a way to live a happy life with you.”

You could see the calm look on her face and immediately knew she was about to dive into a spiel about her impending death with as little condescension as possible, and you beat her to it, deciding that you no longer would bite your tongue, “Let’s both go back to the House of Hope… return to the sanctuary that Hope was creating out of Raphael’s old mansion, and until a more permanent solution for your engine is found, we’ll be happy because we have each other… right?”

Karlach blinked as her mouth opened and closed a few times, a perfect imitation of a goldfish as she processed what you just proposed. Her brow furrowed before relaxing before furrowing again. She held her pointer finger at the ready for an announcement that died on her lips, her finger drooping. You took mercy on her before looping your arms around her neck and bringing your lips together in a kiss to seal it. Karlach was beginning to lose hope as the days dwindled, you had seen the weight of resignation set heavily upon her shoulders as they began to sag. Now… you felt a newfound strength in resolve building within the muscles twitching beneath your hands, and it excited you. You knew your words had inspired her to live more than the bluest of oceans, the greenest of grasses, the freshest of airs. She wanted a life, no matter where it was, so long as you were at her side.

Minthara –

Your initial response to Minthara was that she was incredibly deluded by the will of this “Absolute”. She seemed so dedicated to this cause, and ready to dominate and bend the will of those who didn’t, and you would be lying if you said it didn’t send a shiver down your spine. She regarded you carefully, eyes trailing up and down your body and you could see your resulting quiver was passed through the connection of the True Soul if the darkening of her eyes were anything to go by. You felt as though you were trekking on ice and you could never properly find your footing when you were around her.

Her eyes followed your movements anytime you wandered around camp, whether it be to make small talk with your other companions or to put your mind at ease. Minthara was bold with her calculations and made no move to hide her intrigue. Any time you would look over and meet her eyes, it was always you who looked away first, your body rigid underneath the weight of her lingering gaze and mind scattered as you attempted to find your place in conversation once more. Astarion merely arches a brow in response, and you didn’t like this… this spell she had cast on you. You liked to think that you were tactful with your solution– by insisting she stay in camp while you and a few of the others scouted the area, covering as much ground as it took for nightfall to cast a dark blanket that you hoped Minthara would be nestled in, falling fast asleep by the time the party arrived back. After a while, you aren’t really surprised anymore when you see her lounged comfortably by the campfire, wine goblet in hand as if awaiting your arrival.

“Ah, the mighty hero returns from yet another quest… I have been awaiting your arrival,” You held a deep-seeded exhaustion, one that seeped down into your very bones, and you found yourself in no mood to either entertain her devious scheming or withstand the glowering disapproval if you found yourselves at a disagreement. “Come, sit before me,” It wasn’t a request so much as it was a demand, and despite yourself, you approached Minthara, standing before her and arching your brow in question. She rolled her eyes so hard you were almost afraid they would fall free from her head before her hand reached out and pulled you down to your knees. Despite your squawking and huffing, she twisted your form until you were sitting facing the fire with her body dangerously close to your back. Your eyes repeatedly glanced down at her legs that were resting on either side of you, surrounding you, and you were so absorbed in your staring that you flinched when you felt her strong fingers begin working at the knots twisting the muscles of your shoulders.

“What’re-”

“Relax…” her voice was sultry in your ear before you felt her hot breath against the back of your neck, “You harbor a lot of weight here… Your back must be incredibly sore from carrying the fate of this world.”

Your eyes flutter closed on their own accord and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips, and when you felt her smirk hiding in your hair, you knew you were falling right into a trap of some sort. Her purposeful hands wandered lower as she massaged little circles into her back, forcing you to straighten up, and once you did, her arms surrounded you before pulling you flush against her front. Your head fell back against her shoulder, and your obscured vision robbed you the sight of Minthara’s wicked smile as her eyes hungrily grazed down your body. Her hands recommenced their movements on your hips, and she smiled genuinely when she felt your muscles quivering at her slight touch.

Her hands found purchase in both of your pockets and as your brow furrowed, her teeth were latching onto your shoulder, leaving indentations that were shallow enough to disappear within the next few hours, and she soothed it by flattening her tongue and licking over the bite mark. Her skillful hands worked at the muscles of your thighs through your trousers, and you were soon melting, becoming putty in her palms. Minthara occasionally pressed kisses into your hair and it wasn’t long before your breathing was shallowing out.

“Some of us care little for this display,” drawled Shadowheart from her tent, her face scrunched in a grimace before she returned to her prayer.

“And some of us are enjoying it,” countered Astarion, his eyes flashing wickedly before a glare from Minthara had him raising his hands in a conceding gesture.

“Shall we take this to my tent? Lay you out in a way you might be more comfortable?” The request was hushed, though you two left little to no doubt of your intentions when you scrambled (she strode gracefully) to reach her one bedroll.

Throughout the hours of the night leading to first daylight, the scene shifted from her on top of you to you on top of her and it continued until you found yourself falling fast asleep with her still inside of you. Minthara managed to lull you into a sleep so deep that you didn’t even wake to her digging through the pockets of your discarded trousers before clutching at the jar containing the collection of illithid tadpoles you had discovered along your journey. She considered accepting them all for herself without even a thought spared to you. The unimaginable power, an unrivaled throne atop a whole world ready to serve her.

You mumbled something in your sleep, your eyes never opening yet your arms were out searching and you captured Minthara around her waist before pulling her in and curling around her unbalanced form. One arm was propping her up and the other grasped at your hand around her. She stared unblinkingly at your face for an entire minute as something shifted within her. You had the opportunity to expunge her existence from this plane just as you did with Priestess Gut and Dror Ragzlin, but you spared her. A foolish notion that Minthara herself would never have made if roles were reversed, but as she stared down at your peaceful face, the opportunity to strike glaringly obvious, she found that she wasn’t looking forward to the impending loneliness that was sure to follow your death.

Her goal of power and blood was still at the forefront, but she was picturing enough room that included you as well. And if you had any qualms about taking the Netherbrain’s influence for you two’s personal gain? Well… she had ways of persuading you.

Wyll –

Wyll was a knight in shining armor from your very first impression of him outside of the Grove, ready to lay down his life to defend the innocents trapped within. It didn’t take you long to deduce that he would die happily so long as he played the part of the folk hero. You acted hypocritical anytime you found yourself questioning his heroics and if it all was really worth it. You had your own role in saving the world that was forced upon you, and you understood the call to help when the lost and the damned begged you so brokenly.

Consider yourself surprised when you learned of this angelic man’s pact with a devil named Mizora. There was shame shrouding him after he broke his word to track down Karlach and drive a battle ax straight through the fire she called a heart once he learned that Karlach was a victim herself. His horns were forever a reminder of his dealings with a devil, and while he appeared to hate no one but himself, you felt no traces of regret through your connection. It was a choice he would make every time for Baldurs Gate and his father’s people. Even if that caused the very rift between him and his father.

Wyll was so considerate of a man that he understood the disapproval completely and accepted the banishment with no argument. He took on the persona of the Blade of the Frontiers in hopes of righting his hellish deed tenfold. If he were to die honorably in battle protecting those who couldn’t fight for themselves, then so be it. It wasn’t likely to save his soul in the end, not when it was tethered to a pact in the Hells. Wyll would tell you this to be his biggest fear after you had accepted his beautiful request to dance and you two spun all night long. It was a hollow fact to him, and you swore to yourself in the heat of that night that you would do whatever it took to free Wyll of his pact with Mizora.

As your relationship blossomed, you couldn’t help but to wonder if he dabbled in the ways of the Bard. His words held a melodic tune that sometimes left you entranced by the vibration of it rather than the actual words he was speaking. You would always remember the bashful look he wore one night when he approached you with a piece of parchment trembling the slightest in his hand, his eyes both seeking yours and then averting when he found them. Wyll cleared his throat and after rambling a bit until your fond laughter had him shaking his head, he began to recite poetry that you weren’t familiar with. Your smile softened as he pressed on, but then it slipped away as your mouth parted slightly with a heavy exhale once you realized it was about you.

His words spoke of your devotion, of your wits, of your beauty, and you found yourself melting at the fact that no one had ever written you a poem before, and yet this warlock, who used to be more eloquent when he was crafting spells than he was when he was flirting had found inspiration from you. You inspired a man who inspired so many people with his endless supply of positivity, and you wondered what exactly made you so lucky as to find yourself in an epic romance with Wyll Ravenguard, the man who could hardly be shaken, even while looking into the face of evil and terror.

You felt his jittery need to rush the underwater prison that Gortash had set to blow in search of his imprisoned and infected father. You nodded to Karlach and she was soon dropping from the opening rather than using the grimy ladder. With her warhammer cocked over her shoulder and at the ready, she went to work on clearing out the sahuagin that stood guard. Once she was out of sight, leaving behind a bloody trail, you handed Lae’zel every Arrow of Transposition you purchased and hoped her Misty Step would carry her the rest of the way after ordering her down the east corridor in search of prisoners. Wyll was nearly seething by the time you turned to him and before the command could even leave your mouth, he was already charging, the Dimension Door spell already crackling to life at his fingertips.

Time was ticking and for each enemy that was cut down, about five more appeared from the murky depths. You could hear the slapping of shoes against wet stone as everyone who was released made a frantic dash towards the exit. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back when you heard a woman who was intercepted by one of the monsters. Try as you might, the following ripping sound and resulting gurgle would haunt your dreams to come. It was an incredible gamble to invade the Iron Throne Prison, and once Gortash gave the final call, you knew that it was damn near impossible to save everyone. The sinking reality set in as you passed body after body while retracing your steps back to the exit hatch. Wyll frowned so deeply that it was bringing lines to his forehead. It was going against everything the Blade of the Frontiers stood for, this act of selfish grandeur to ensure his father’s life over all else.

The rotten taste of unfairness bit like acid on the back of Wyll’s tongue, and at this point, he shouldn’t be as shocked as he was to find out that his father wasn’t being held in the prison like he was led to believe by Mizora… Whatever possessed you to take her for her word was beyond you, and you had just about enough with that devil and her trickery. As the submarine filled with what Gondian survivors were remaining departed from the explosion, you couldn’t help but to ponder the comparisons between Mizora and Raphael to determine if you could handle a battle against her.

It seemed fitting that you found the Duke at Gortash’s side in Wyrm’s Rock Fortress during the final showdown with Bane’s Chosen. It was a ruthless fight, and while you tried several tactics to break the influence controlling the Duke, his curse proved unshakable and his strength was consuming you. It was only a matter of time before his sword was destined to cut you down, and as you craned your neck to give Wyll one last exhausted, resigned smile as you made the decision to put the Duke’s life before your own, Wyll found himself charging with a roar that sounded an awful lot like “NO!”

His own blade pierced the final blow that brought the Duke to his knees, blinking away the influence that muddled his mind. He sputtered as he looked from the hilt protruding from his chest to his son, who stood over him with a look of horrific realization. As he began swaying dangerously close to the point of toppling over, Wyll dropped to his side to cradle his father close, mindful of the blade. He sobbed and hiccuped past his rushed apologies, but his father blinked past the pain to acknowledge his son.

“There is more to this world than just gods and devils, my boy, and you are neither. I’m…”

The gargled whisper would remain unfinished forever, and it broke Wyll to pieces as he clutched at his father’s lifeless body. He sobbed even as Karlach delivered the final smiting blow to Gortash’s feeble body, and wasn’t even paying attention when she chopped off his hand for the tribunal to Bhaal. You awkwardly hovered above Wyll, unsure if he would even accept your presence after he killed his own father to save you, but you had a secret trick up your sleeve, one that you had been saving for just the right time, and one that you could only call upon once in your lifetime. Wyll was willing to make a great sacrifice for your life, it was only fair you did the same for his happiness.

“My love,” You whisper gently and only continue when his tear-streaked face looked up at you, “If you’d allow me, I would like to call upon Selune’s Opulent Revival and save your father.”

Wyll’s eyes widened as he felt a surge of hope warm his veins. He glanced between both of your eyes, searching for something that you weren’t entirely sure of before he was rearranging his father’s body. He couldn’t help his whimpered gag as he tore the blade free from his father’s chest to prevent complications. With the Duke lying flat against the ground, you got to your own knees, ready to summon your prayer that would call upon Selune’s power to revive and restore health. Wyll grabbed ahold of your hand before you could rest it against the Duke’s chest. He raised your wrist and pressed the most reverent of kisses to your palm before dropping another to the inside of your wrist. When you caught his eyes again, there was no hiding the adoration he had for you in this very moment.

Once the moment passed, you placed your hand over the still heart within the Duke’s chest, and dared not remove it until your lips paused at the end of your prayer, and there was a fluttering against the same palm that could still feel the press of Wyll’s lips.

219 notes · View notes

liminal-space-lesbian · 11 months

Text

Loser II

Pairing: Enid Sinclair x fem!reader

Summary: You try to take some time apart from Enid to sort through your feelings and maybe get over your crush. After all, Enid was happy in her relationship. Right?

Warnings: swearing, confessions, crying, anxiety attack, angst

Words: 2,276

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

You tried to follow Yoko's advice, truly. However, Enid was ever present in your thoughts. Just at the edges of your mind during your classes, floating to the forefront of your mind when you tried to sleep at night. You tried to stop thinking about her, but every time you saw her in the halls your heart would skip a beat, your eyes would linger on her. You avoided her to the best of your ability and it helped a bit. The ache in your chest was reminder enough though.

Perhaps your avoidance of her attributed to the fact you were oblivious to her and Ajax's growing relationship conflicts. He was being his usual oblivious self and it was making Enid feel uncared for; unloved. His excuse of "not knowing" Enid didn't wear silver jewelry, that she didn't like roses, or that she hated dark chocolate only held up for so long. After they'd been dating for so long Enid got sick of reminding him. These were simple things you were supposed to remember about somebody, especially somebody you were supposed to love.

She kept telling him how his actions made her feel, so he'd apologize and promise to do better. She'd be placated for a while, Ajax's behavior improving for a week or so until he'd simply go back to his old ways. He was too preoccupied with getting high with his friends and playing hooky to put the adequate amount of effort into his relationship. To him, it was just casual dating.

Eventually Enid got fed up and broke up with him, spending the next few days crying to Yoko, eating icecream, and watching reruns of Glee. You were oblivious to this for nearly a week, too busy moping and self isolating in hopes you'd get over Enid to even notice.

That is, until you were hanging out with Yoko by the lake and studying, when she casually mentioned how she felt bad for Enid, but was happy to see her feeling better.

"What? What's going on with Enid?" You asked, worry sparking in your stomach at the thought of something bad happening to Enid or possibly one of her family members. Yoko gave you a side eye, looking suspicious.

"You don't know? I'm shocked, I thought you'd throw a party at the news." She said drily as she lowered her sunglasses to eye you with an unimpressed look.

"What?" You pressed, leaning forward, growing nervous at how she was acting. 'Why would I be excited over something that was hurting Enid? Unless...' You felt a flicker of hope somewhere deep in your chest.

"Enid broke up with Ajax last week. She got sick of him flaking on her and not paying attention to her interests." Yoko said with a dismissive wave, leaning back against the trunk of an oak tree as she looked back down at her book.

"What?" You nearly shouted in shock, your heart feeling as if it stopped entirely in your chest at the news. You were elated, but a feeling of guilt and something else settled in your stomach. Yes you were excited at the aspect of being able to actually date Enid, however some part of you felt guilty. You were practically praying on her relationships downfall, and even though now you have the chance to treat her the way she deserves, it is also painful to break up with someone. You'd never wish pain upon Enid, despite all your complaints about their relationship before.

Also, a feeling of something akin to disgust rose within you. You felt... predatory for your thoughts. You were such a loser- such a creep- for waiting on Enid's breakup to try and sweep her off of her feet. It made you feel gross and dirty.

"Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't know? Y'know, with your whole obsession with her and all. How did you really not know?" Yoko inquires, shooting you a curious look. You shrugged, looking down at your hands that were absentmindedly plucking grass.

"I mean, I was taking your advice and trying to distance myself from her, so I've been kinda... avoiding her? I mean I was trying to get over her I guess." You say lamely, shrugging halfheartedly as you lean back on your palms and look up at the leaves above your head.

"And how is that going?" Yoko asked sarcastically. You shot her a glare before sighing, blushing slightly.

"No luck. It's like she owns my thoughts or something." You say, slightly irritated at Enid's hold on you, even though she didn't have the slightest romantic inclination towards you.

"Hm... Well now's your chance I guess." Yoko said simply, raising her eyebrows as she continued looking down at her book. You shot her a look.

"C'mon you know that's not fair. I'm not gonna just swoop in like a vulture the second she breaks up with him. Plus it's not healthy to jump from one relationship to another, she should take some time to herself to get over it first." You say quietly as you begin braiding blades of grass together.

"You're right, but even if you're not pursuing a relationship with her she still needs support right now. She isn't dumb, she's noticed you avoiding her." Your heart dropped in your chest at her words, anxiety flooding your system, "If there's any time she needs a friend it's now." Yoko finishes, giving you a pointed look. Another flash of guilt swamped your system. 'I'm such a dick. Of course she'd notice I'm avoiding her! And when she's going through a breakup too? That's when she needs friends most, and I'm just absent because I can't handle my stupid crush?' You mentally berate yourself.

"You're right, I've been an asshole. I'm gonna talk to her." You say, more to yourself than to Yoko as you get to your feet and brush off your clothes, picking up your bag.

"Goodluck." Yoko says with a dismissive wave, a small smile curving at her lips as you head towards Enid's dorm. Your pace was quick and you felt anxiety flood your veins as you walked. Should you get her a gift of some sort? Is that creepy? Would it seem weird to just show up out of nowhere? Your anxious thoughts came to a halt when you realized you were stood outside of Enid's dorm. You wiped your sweaty palms on your pants, taking a deep breath before knocking.

A few moments later Enid was opening the door, a look of surprise briefly gracing her features. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks were shiny from old tears; it was obvious she had been crying. You felt guilty for thinking she looked so pretty, her eyelashes damp with as her blue eyes glittered with unshed tears.

"Oh, hi." She said awkardly, looking a bit hesitant at your sudden appearance after avoiding her for the past few weeks.

"Uh- hi. I heard about," you paused, swallowing nervously, "I heard about you and Ajax. I just came to say I'm really sorry. I know you thought he was gonna be the one, and I know breakups are tough. Just- if you need me for anything I'm here." You say, your tone slightly shaky with nerves, but earnest nonetheless. Enid stared at you a moment before stepping back and inviting you into her dorm.

"Thank you... you can come in. I kinda just- I could use somebody to talk to I guess." Enid murmurs, her tone uncharacteristically quiet. Your heart ached to see her so down. You followed her into the dorm and hesitantly sat on the edge of her bed. She crawled back under the covers, hugging a stuffed bear to her chest as she sniffled.

"I just don't get why he couldn't just listen. I'd tell him stuff he did bothered me or made me feel like he didn't care but he'd just keep doing it. It's not like I was asking for a lot, right?" Enid asked softly, her tone uncertain as she wipes her eyes and glances down at you. You scoot closer to her, absentmindedly brushing a damp piece of hair off her cheek. Your fingers brushed hers and she quickly grasped your hand in hers. You fought the way your pulse raced, stamping down on butterflies. You knew Enid was touchy with everyone, you weren't special.

"No, of course not. It's not a lot to ask to want your boyfriend to listen to you, and care about you, and care to learn your interests." You reassure her, squeezing her hand as she blinked up at you. She nodded slightly, her gaze drifting off to the side once more.

"You're right." She whispered, the room lapsing into a comfortable silence as you sat next to her, rubbing the back of her hand with your thumb. Part of you felt gross, like you were somehow taking advantage of the situation by holding her hand and feeling a flutter in your chest. As if you were preying on her moment of weakness to grant yourself some satisfaction from physical touch. Guilt gnawed at you as you looked down at her, wondering if you even being here was somehow wrong.

"Why were you avoiding me?" Enid asks in a small voice, her eyes peeking up at you over the edge of her comforter. You blinked at her, taken aback by her words. You honestly didn't think she would even notice your absence. You never felt as if she really even saw you.

"I wasn't-" You began, but as your eyes met her glossy, vulnerable gaze you let out a resigned sigh. "I was just... I was struggling with something and I needed some space." You say, trying to be as vague as possible. Enid's brow furrowed as she sat up, bringing her body closer to yours, causing you to feel a blush rise to your ears as you ignored the way your stomach swooped.

"What do you mean? Is everything okay?" She asked, and you felt crushing guilt at the way she looked at you. 'What type of person am I? Making her feel bad for me when she's the one going through a breakup? I ignore her and then show up at her dorm demanding her comfort?' You mentally berated yourself, swallowing nervously as you looked at your lap.

"Yeah! No, don't even worry about me it's actually really stupid. I'm sorry for just kinda ghosting you like that. You don't deserve it." You mumble, your gaze meeting hers for a moment before you were forced to look away, her gaze too intense. "I would have come sooner if I had known about what happened with you and Ajax, but Yoko just told me today so... I came as soon as I knew." You whispered, feeling shame burn at your ears.

"I mean, it's not stupid if it's bothering you so much." Enid says, her voice gentle as she takes your free hand in hers, running her thumb over the backs of them. You felt guilt crush your insides. Enid was so good. She was so warm and soft and loving and you didn't deserve her kindness. After you spend days and nights praying on her relationships downfall just so you'd get a chance. If she knew she surely wouldn't want to even talk to you anymore.

"It's- It's really selfish of me." You whispered, your heart racing as you realized you might confess to her right now. It'd be the worst timing, with her fresh out of a relationship. You'd seem like such a predator, waiting to pounce the second she was single again. Which you suppose is what you are, so why not enlighten her and let her make the decision herself?

"I just... Seeing you and Ajax together was... hard for me. It was really getting to me so I needed to take some time away to try and... sort through my feelings." You manage to choke out, heart pounding as you stare firmly at Enid's comforter. There's a tense silence as Enid's hands still in yours.

"Did you- do you like Ajax?" She asks, sounding confused and slightly hurt. Your gaze snaps to hers in panic as she pulls her hands out of yours.

"No! No I do not like Ajax. Quite the opposite really." You blurt out, giving a nervous chuckle as you desperately search her gaze, trying to convey that you did not have feelings for her ex boyfriend. Her brows furrowed in confusion for a moment.

"Then what-" It was like a switch flipped in her mind as her eyes widened and her jaw slackened in surprise. "Oh." Was all she said, blinking owlishly at you. You gulped, unable to read her expression.

"I know- I'm sorry. I can't help it, I tried getting over it and just ignoring it but seeing you with him and seeing the way he was treating you- God this makes me sound like such an asshole." You blurt out, your pulse racing so fast you felt lightheaded. You stand up, heading towards the door, your mind spinning as you can only imagine what she thinks of you now.

"I'm sorry- I'll just go. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even come here. I didn't mean to- I just-" You stammer as you fumble with the doorknob.

"Wait-" Enid tries, standing up to head after you but you cut her off.

"I'm sorry, just forget about it." You say, opening the door and leaving her dorm, shutting the door behind you as you practically run to Yoko's room.

#enid sinclair x reader #enid sinclair #wednesday #wednesday tv series

109 notes · View notes

rrenzwrld · 1 year

Text

isn’t she lovely?

eren x pregnant! black reader

— the birth of his daughter becomes one of the best days he’s ever lived.

second part of the bs from my notes: check out part one here! song inspo for this below

— he’s in love

A few months had passed and everything had kicked in for him when he saw you dressed up for the gender reveal.

“Ah! You look so cute, girl!” Sasha squealed as she ran up to you. Even though it was a simple white outfit, you were glowing. You wanted a simple white dress and paired it with some sandals. You also blowed out your hair for such an occasion and applied a minimal amount of makeup so it wouldn’t spoil in the heat of an April saturday.

“Thank you, girl. I see you team boy?” You looked down at Sasha’s over the top blue outfit. Eren wasn’t even paying attention to who was team what.

“Oh most definitely— Eren what the fuck is that in your hair?” He walked over to the girls with a blue ribbon and a pink ribbon braided into his hair. Since you thought it’d be cute if the both of you match, you made him also wear a white outfit.

“Alright, not too much. My little cousins did it and I think it looks nice.”

You reached up to place a kiss on his cheek. “You look handsome, baby.” You smiled.

Eren gently pulled you into him. “And you look—“ Before he could finish his sentence, a couple of your family members had called you both over to look at the decorations.

Once it was announced that you’d be having a girl, you knew that beforehand. Your mother knew it too because she was a black mother herself and they always seemed to know everything. This made you think about how that would transfer to you. Soon you’d begin that life and that was starting to scare you and excite you at the same time. Everything your mother did for you, you’d do for your baby girl.

After the events of the gender reveal, it was decided that there wouldn’t be a baby shower because most people had brought in tons of gifts for the gender reveal. You two just made it available for anyone to send in things if they wanted to without the whole party aspect.

“Don’t you think we have enough pampers, babe?” Eren leaned over the shopping cart as he watched you examine pamper brands for the past ten minutes while you were on the phone with your mother.

You held up a finger. “You said what ma?… I already got a lot of size ones you seen the ones at the house…” You instructed him to get two more boxes of pampers off the shelf and put them in the cart along with a bunch of other baby stuff.

You talked to your mom for a little bit more until the conversation ended and you were now in the formula aisle.

“Did your mom breastfeed?” You asked Eren as he strolled along with the cart behind you.

He nodded. “For a bit, yeah. Then she switched over to formula.” All this was still weird to him. The fact that he was in here shopping with you for baby stuff and you were actually wearing his clothes in public because yours became too small overtime.

“You been quiet today. You okay?” You turned away from the formula for a second to look at your boyfriend.

He nodded. “I’m straight.” You raised a brow at him, knowing he was lying.

“Mhmmm,” You hummed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m straight.” He said again but he knew he couldn’t say that too many times before you’d make it clear that you didn’t believe him.

“You nervous?”

“Very.” He said quickly and you laughed a bit, wondering why it took so long for him to just admit that. You were nervous too but one of you had to at least pretend to be calm about the situation. “You don’t seem like it though.”

You scoffed. “I’m scared outta my fuckin mind but,” He knew how much you didn’t like to admit it if you felt something other than content or tranquility, so he liked when you were vulnerable even if you made sure it wasn’t often. You held his hand and squeezed it. “We’ll be just fine.”

June 24. Two years ago he would not anticipate this being one of the most important days of his life. You couldn’t even pay him to believe that he’d be rushing to the hospital in the early hours of a tuesday morning to prepare for the birth of his first child.

“Fuck… this hurts..” You groaned in pain and hurt wasn’t even close enough to describe the strength of the pain the contractions were bringing you right now. All Eren could do was drive on even though it broke his heart to see you in pain that he couldn’t do anything for.

“I know, I know. I’m driving as fast as I can.”

Your painful cries makes him want to cry because he couldn’t do anything about it. All he could do was make sure you’re where you need to be all while making sure that he’s sane enough to calm himself down so he’s able to do that. Once your parents arrive, walking into the room where you’re kept, hooked up to tubes of pain medication with a nurse at your side helping you through contractions, his nerves settle down a bit.

But he doesn’t leave your bedside. His hand had been attached to yours since walking into the hospital and he made sure that it would stay that way because in his mind, there was no telling what would come after this. But everything would prove to be worth it when he finally hears those sweet little cries that’s he’s been waiting to hear for nine months. Eren had never been so happy to hear someone cry in his life.

“There she goes!” The doctor announces. “She’s absolutely beautiful.” And she was. She was beautiful. That’s all that ran through the both of your heads as the small child was placed in your arms.

Everyone in the room crowded around the new mother as you held your daughter in your arms for the first time. The moment you laid your eyes on your baby, you fell in love and you knew that you’d never be this in love with anyone or anything ever again. You couldn’t stop staring at her and you didn’t want to let her go. You didn’t even want to let her go to her father, who was fighting tears next to you.

“Not you crying.” You giggled as you handed the child over.

He sniffled. “I’m sorry…” That’s all he said for a couple minutes because he was too busy staring at what he had a hand in creating. He couldn’t believe it. He was holding a baby in his hands and he could say that this baby was his. She was his daughter. One look at her and he knew that he had to protect her with every fiber in his body. As long as he lived, no one was hurting her.

“Oh, he’s in love.” The doctor commented and everyone in the room laughed.

Your mother had tapped Eren on the shoulder. “You don’t mind giving mama a break, do you?”

Eren looked up at her and then back at his daughter, who slept soundly in his arms. “Not at all..” He slowly sat down in the chair in the corner of the room and everyone watching in amazement at how mesmerized he was by the child in front of him. Seeing how he was with your daughter made a tear roll down your cheek. He was so gentle and good with her and you’ve never really seen him that calm throughout your whole pregnancy. And to see him finally release all his nerves and fears when he gets to see his daughter, it pleased you. He was going to be an amazing father, you could tell.

#aot #eren #aot eren #aot x black reader #aot x reader #pregnant #pregnancy #black reader #Spotify

294 notes · View notes

styrmwb · 2 months

Text

I beat Final Fantasy VII Rebirth

There's gonna be spoilers in this just in case you care, hopefully I tagged it correctly, and also yeah this is a long one (I don't have it tagged game ramblings for nothing)

Anyways, loved this game. My gripes with it are very few, but unfortunately one of said gripes is very major and hasn't changed from Remake; but in the effort to Pretend like my thoughts are organized, I'm gonna section this cause sectioning is fun :)

Actually, one thing I wanted to note here (writing this after like, 3 paragraphs), is something that influences a lot of my love for this game is the fact that it... Doesn't suffer from translation problems like the OG. It brings factors that i never truly appreciated into the forefront, and clears up a lot of confusion. I wanted to put this here because I realized it would be weird to say all of my nonsense without clarifying this.

Gameplay

Rebirth (and Remake) is what I think is What modern FF should be. I absolutely love this style of combat so much. I do wish there was a very small passive ATB charge cause sometimes I get stuck in a situation where I can't do anything, but other than that the rotation of hack and slash then classic menu, and switch between party members is so fun, in the best of times I can make a really cool action scene, everyone showing off their own moves; it's a blast. I'll go a little deeper into the characters when I go to That section, but overall I found everyone really fun in some way, even though end game I ended up using the same party as I did in Remake (and also the OG VII lmfao).

I know to some/possibly most, the amount of open world (and Chadley) and the side quests might feel like a bunch of fluff and garbage, but I actually kinda really enjoyed it? I loved how the world intel all changed slightly as you progressed. Moogles as an example, annoying as they were, did add an extra level of challenge every time you saw them. When you had to catch a chocobo, it was a different style of stealth minigame. Summon crystals all had increasingly complicated patterns. Hell, even the towers were slightly different every time with how you had to climb or even reach them! I think this being the strength solidifies itself when I think of my least favorite intels being the Fiend Intel, because I think they were the most samey the entire game through. The side quests I compare to XVI. XVI's side quests were... like XIV. A LOT of dialogue, run here, more dialogue, fight one enemy or gather 6 items, then go back. Rebirth's quests felt... a little more alive? A little more varied? Sure, side quests are usually going to be the same in these styles of game, but I think of chasing a dog through the region while the dialogue happens along the way, I think of the options to gather more resources than the bare minimum for different rewards and dialogues, picking different flowers, having to pay attention to notes, having to interact with the minigames: it all felt more interesting and like I actually wanted to do them. The varied nature of everything is what made me enjoy it.

Oh and Queen's Blood? Greatest FF card game don't even @ me I had so much fun with it it better stay

Characters

One of my favorite parts of Rebirth is how much it helped or made me love the cast. Even characters that I did not care about or possibly actively disliked, this game made me enjoy. Main characters were all expanded on, side characters were silly, and brought back into relevance when I would never expect (Like holy shit I swear every named NPC from Remake came back which is so cool), and they all make the journey an absolute joy to take, and the world as colorful as FFVII SHOULD be. But let me talk about a cast that went from "yeah I like them" to possibly one of my favorite parties in the entire franchise.

Cloud

I honestly already considered him my favorite character in VII (which is a very hard thing to admit without the fear of people thinking you like him for the wrong reasons), and Rebirth being essentially half the game lets me get to see why again. A man who presents himself as serious and uncaring, but OOPS he actually does care and is really silly but unfortunately has some major mental problems! (please help him he is NOT ok). Sure, they kinda speed up his realization of certain aspects, and maybe they go a Little too hard on the fact that Something Isn't Right, but I really enjoyed seeing his declining mental state, its effect on the world, and his relationships with the party. The Sephiroth juice is intense at this point in the story, and I am very excited to see him in the next game. His gameplay is classic yet fun, with big swordy slashes and huge hits that don't have to be slow (they're sometimes slow).

Barret

My favorite part of Barret in Rebirth compared to Remake is how he didn't wear his sunglasses for most of the game. He's open, he's feeling, he's emotional; he's the big tough softy I love. This is where him and Cloud's relationship really gets to shine, where you can tell there is respect, trust, and concern between both of them. The Gold Saucer and side quests are where I think this is at its strongest, and I love seeing it. His gameplay makes him a really fun support, and just like Remake I had him as a sort of paladin healy tanky type, staying behind with GUN as he takes care of the party, which is really fun and consistent.

Tifa

This game does wonders for Tifa enjoyers (it's me I'm Tifa enjoyers), giving her a lot of focus and emphasis on that caring, observant nature that is her strongest suit. Her concern for Cloud and friendship with Aerith feel very strong here and it makes me happy to see. Her gameplay had her in my party the entire time no other reason, her fast attacks, dodges, ATB filling, and stagger damage multiplier being extremely huge in every single fight.

Aerith

The big one. Honestly, I'm gonna keep my real big story thoughts for later, but I will say I loved seeing her enjoy life, the open world, and helping others in the side quests. She's a great character to see happy :) Also, her scene in the Gold Saucer is probably now one of my favorite scenes in the entire series. It was so fucking stunning that I cannot get enough of it. Unfortunately, her gameplay is easily my least favorite out of the group, as her slow attacks and dodging (yes I know she has an ability to boost her attacks but that takes a while to get to) makes her kind of a slog in my hands, and better off in the computer's.

Red XIII

One of two characters that I did not expect to grow to love as much as I did. I'll prob mention this again later, but... I didn't REALLY know the extent of his change when I played the original. Yeah, I knew he was young for his race, but he always felt like just that wise grumpy dog man (some of this could be on me not reading well enough but between poor translation and Advent Children and the fact he didn't make it into DFFOO I'm gonna give myself a break). Rebirth showed me how much of a joy Red is. Despite the trauma and pain he went through, he's silly, he's excited for life, he has fun and loves his family. But also, despite this and his youth, he doesn't COMPLETELY lose his knowledge and wise nature after his reveal; he just relaxes more. I care about Red so much more than I originally did now because this change was made clearer. His gameplay is also really fun, fast attacks, strong defenses, and even stronger abilities (stardust ray my beloved).

Yuffie

We already got a good amount of Yuffie in Intergrade, so having her again here felt like anyone else from last game. However, I do absolutely love how she was integrated into the main plot instead of just being Girl in Forest. She served as great comic relief (and literally says this!) for her appearance in the story (although I do think there were a couple occasions where it was a bit much but that's ok her arc is next game), and I really enjoyed that she started to become a cared for member of the group (really shown by Cloud in the Skywheel date and her and Barret's relationship). Gameplay was just as fun as Intergrade, the throwing/ninjutsu swapping being a joy, and I loved using her doppelganger attack in combination with elemental weaknesses and Sonic Boom. Yuffie was key for some of the harder fights, the MVP fr fr.

Cait Sith

The other of two characters I did not expect to enjoy, and Cait Sith here is the absolute king of it, as I DID NOT like him in the OG. But here? He's a larger character, he's more sympathetic, he's a little more understandable, and his gameplay doesn't suck shit lmfao. His betrayal I think was done a lot cleaner this time around, where he really Felt like part of the group, and his return was done pretty smoothly but honestly doing anything other than being like "hi hello I'm back!" while Cloud beats the shit out of Aerith is an improvement I really enjoyed his melee/ranged nature being similar to Cloud, and his heavy hitting attacks. Despite the fact that he still had RNG, it was RNG that felt good no matter what and I appreciated that.

Cid and Vincent

Our poor poor "you're not allowed yet" boys. No gameplay section here cause they ain't got any! But that's ok, because for what little role they had, I really enjoyed their presence. Early Cid was very interesting to me, and while i do feel like he loses a little not being introduced as a complete dickwad, I still love having Cid around and giving him a little more connection to the party. He didn't seem as aggressive and %#*^-y, but I kinda hope we get more of that in part 3 when Rocket Town happens. Vincent, similar to Yuffie, gets tied into the story in such a great way. Getting to fight him was super super cool, and I loved that small amount of comic relief he gives by being Overly edgy yet out of touch with the world. I'm very excited to see where both of them go.

Zack

It took me some time to... Accept what Remake did to the timeline. Once I did, I was all in on the train for more Zack. I love Zack! He's my other favorite VII character other than Cloud! This game gave me more Zack, and I appreciate it for that. Not to mention his whole interactions with Aerith and Cloud made me very happy and filled a void in my heart I needed (that fucking synergy attack between the two of them???? DUUUUUDE) Unfortunately however; he didn't get to... get the story treatment I would have liked. Gameplay wise; I don't care much for his charge mechanic, sadly.

Sephiroth

I don't have much to say here. Sephiroth is Sephiroth. He appears, says "pee your pants cloud", then fucks off, and he's really good at that, and that's what he's supposed to be. My grudges against him aren't against him and more against who's writing him. Playing him was hype though, and I enjoyed his counter mechanic which I feel got later reincarnated into Red.

As for people other than in the playable cast, Dio was incredibly fun, Elena felt like a treat and a more threatening than the original but still showing that silly nature (pink gun???? no tactical advantage whatsoever I love it), Hojo is still the scum of the earth as he should be (he never gets better!), I got to actually understand what Bugenhagen is, and so on and so on. Nobody was worse than their original appearance and I loved that.

ALSO CISSNEI GANG RISE UP WE LOVE OUR GIRL AND I'M SO GLAD SHE GOT TO RETURN

Story

So. This is the big part. If I had to choose where my biggest gripe with the game would be, it would be in the aspect of story. This is the Exact Same Gripe I had with Remake, that being the aspect of whispers, alternate timelines, and whatever Sephiroth is cooking. This being.... I don't really like it? I don't think it adds anything?? It's confusing, intentionally vague, and it really ruins the flow that these games have otherwise. Cause aside from this singular (big) aspect? Dude! This game fucks! It takes every story beat that was in the original, and expands on it in a way that i feel makes me love the story and world way more! I feel like a lot of aspects got tied together a lot more smoothly (although again, I also attribute this to not terrible translation), and every experience that I expected from the original was a joy to watch in this game. The swamp, Junon, the boat, Costa del Sol, the Gold Saucer, Cosmo Canyon, Nibelheim, the Temple of the Ancients. These were all done so well. All of the side content and side stories were really fun, added a lot of character to the world. And with the slight changes they did make, like with Cait Sith's arc being changed to be more sympathetic instead of blackmailing and Cloud being controlled by Sephiroth NOT beating Aerith I think were actually done really tastefully and improved the experience (actually thinking about it Dyne's just felt like they wanted to hurt Barret more why would they do that). I just... I wish if they were going to do this whole alternate timeline dealy, they were a little more clear on it? i wish I could feel like it actually mattered to this series, but what i get is "oh wow the unknown journey" that turns into "yeah here are these extra bits that are confusing and don't change anything and actually instead ruin the impact of one of the most well known scenes in video game history)

With that I will talk about the ending. I was willing to ignore the fact that we didn't get to walk through the City of the Ancients more. I was still shaking and nervous until the very end, thinking "oh man what's going to happen???? oh fuck!!!" and what i was instead rewarded with was a constant whiplash of emotions and confusion that left me numb to what should have torn my heart out. I shouldn't have to be left wondering if a character truly died or not for the sake of "OHHH MAN TIMELINESSSSS WORLDS???" that didn't DO anything when I could have gotten either a successful changing of timeline, or a 4K edition of something to tear my heart out, and hearing the absolute pain in Cloud's voice in his speech afterwards. I am Really Hoping that part 3 will clear this up, and retroactively improve an ending and story beats that I think single-handedly knock this game down from a 10/10. I shouldn't have faith in them, cause they've beefed two endings in a row, but I do, because they've shown that everything else they can create are honestly perfect.

Graphics

shortest section in the world this game is beautiful the landscapes are beautiful the characters are beautiful (or ugly when they needed to be and it still worked) my eyes were given a treat this entire 80 hours

Music

shortest section in the world this soundtrack is amazing hamauzu and suzuki cooked and made so many good songs

it's like they knew tifa's theme was one of my favorites and proceeded to give me 20 versions of it also gold saucer getting individual remixes???? a top 5 battle on the big bridge? NO PROMISES TO KEEP???????? GOD FUCKING DAMN.

Unorganized Ramblings/Finale

I really did have a lot of fun with this game. I didn't feel soured until the end for the most part, even during some frustrating game segments (fuck you Rufus and Odin and then Odin again and also that last Fort Condor). I really appreciate getting to see the wider world of FFVII in a modern sense, and I think overall I appreciate what I didn't previously a lot more. I also loved how with the addition of a card game and Gilgamesh, it got to match up with VIII and IX, the other 2 PS1 FFs to really feel like a unified FF vision. This game kept the silliness that the original had on top of its incredibly dark setting for something that I love to describe as the same vibe as Yakuza. I laughed seeing Red get a whole scene instead of a single bit in his person outfit, and then cried at a newfound caring for Cloud, Tifa, and Barret seeing Jessie's poster in the Gold Saucer. The vibes were immaculate and I'm really really excited to see what they do for the final part (which is going to be called Reunion I'm betting my left materia on it)

9/10. The peak of modern FF gameplay that enhances a classic, but fails its mission of being different.

#final fantasy #final fantasy vii #textpost #games i beat in 2024 #jared's game ramblings #final fantasy vii rebirth spoilers #final fantasy vii rebirth

7 notes · View notes

raine-blxssxm · 11 months

Text

Now for the moment you guys have been waiting for.. Amelia’s backstory/ family life 😈

(I know probably no one has been actively waiting for this, just lemme have my moment with this story I worked hard on writing 🥹)

TW: Death of a family member, child neglect, and the slightest mention of blood!

If you are triggered by any of this, please read at your own risk!

Amelia’s family history isn’t very significant besides her great grandmother formerly being a well known actress in South Park who almost made it to broadway, but died in an accident before she could do so.

At a young age, Amelia strived to do what her great grandmother couldn’t, which was to reach Broadway. Amelia’s parents neglected her a lot growing up, typically leaving the maids and butlers to care for her. They often were on business trips, not leaving a lot of bonding time to develop their relationship with their daughter. Whenever her parents were around, she’d put blood, sweat, and tears into gaining their praise through her acting roles. Due to none of her attempts being successful, Amelia grew an obsession with making her performances absolutely flawless.

As you can probably assume, this is where her phobia of messing up developed. Throughout the years she did theater, Amelia developed into a triple threat (which is someone who can act, dance, and sing). While she wanted to reach her grandmother’s level of fame and to be in Broadway, Amelia had a deeper reason for loving theater. She loved entertaining people and making them smile. There’s also a part of Amelia that hopes her parents would praise her and give her attention again if she gave them a flawless performance while doing something she loved. Whenever she tried, her parents were always the only ones not smiling in the crowd, that’s even if they came to watch her. It drove Amelia crazy. All she could ever think to herself is “What did I do wrong?”. The sad reality is that- her parents will never truly care for her. No matter the amount of acting roles she receives and performs in, her parents will never care because the little amount of care they DID have went into their famous business.

Part of her is aware of this, due to the reasoning behind why she constantly steals money from them for the benefit of herself and people who actually need it (such as Kenny). She steals their money to spite them, as a way to say “You’ve never cared for me so I’ll gradually take more and more away of the only thing you love, money.” This may seem out of character for such a bubbly character such as Amelia, but that’s because she’s in denial. She’s aware that her parents will never love her yet she still can’t help but try to earn their praise whenever they’re in town, she still feels that there’s a chance for them to care about her and for them to be a happy family.

The drawing I made reflects this story because Amelia is reaching out to a light and when you look at the ground of the drawing you can see the silhouette of two people (her parents) kind of towering over some parts of her Ariel costume that will be crucial to another part of Amelia’s story. As for the costumes laid around Amelia, those are to represent the characters she’s acted for in some musicals (you can see the previously stated Ariel costume and the dress in the bottom left corner is Glinda’s party dress in “Wicked”). The reason why I made some of her costumes covered by the shadows of her parents is because I really wanted to emphasize the fact that her parents really don’t care about how talented of an actress she is. Not to mention the light Amelia’s reaching out to is supposed to symbolize the possibility she has fabricated in her mind that her parents can care about her and not treat her like she doesn’t exist.

I really hope you enjoyed reading Amelia’s backstory and the breakdown of the drawing I made ❤️

PS. Reblogs are welcomed (though aren’t forced) + to those who sent some questions, I promise I’ll write some responses soon, I’ve just been busy with family all weekend 💔

#south park #south park oc #amelia south park #south park fanart #south park fandom #south park original character #sp amelia #sp oc #sp #sp ocs #oc backstory #south park ocs #south park amelia #amelia martinez #amelia sp oc

24 notes · View notes

airasora · 4 months

Note

Oh, I will send more later because they are super interesting but this one immediately got my attention: 33, What is their wedding day like? For Hollina, Rolfmaine, Quaselle and Sinric (I didn't plan on having two straight and two gay couples LOL those are the ones that are very intriguing to me in regards to the wedding)

What is their wedding day like?

Hollina

Holli and Lina's wedding would be a big event. They both know a lot of people and care about making their wedding be as great as their love for each other. Even though they have had their disagreements about certain aspects of their wedding (like Holli wanting something elegant and modern, and Lina wanting something princessy and fairytale-like) they have managed to meet in the middle and their wedding will be remembered for decades. Their wedding day is filled with flowers, fairy lights, karaoke, glass tiles for the dancing area, and you better believe their first dance is choreographed to the max! And they have a first song too, because of course they do.

I also made a short fanfic about Holli's feelings about wearing a wedding veil you can read here.

Rolfmaine

Both John and Anastasia agreed they wanted a big, disgustingly elegant wedding. John Rolfe is used to fancy parties with stuffy clothing and waltzing around in a ballroom, and while Anastasia can't dance to save her life, she loves the same things John does. Their guest list, however, would not be exceptionally big. Both of them have few family members and a few friends, so despite the elegant setting and atmosphere, the wedding would still be intimate. John would consider playing a diplomatic move and invite acquaintances, but ultimately he didn't want to have to put pressure on Anastasia on her wedding day.

Quaselle

Simple and sweet forest ceremony, not truly a traditional wedding. I don't see Belle being religious and Quasimodo would have a very strained relationship with Christianity after all the religious trauma he's been through. So their wedding would be much more about having a day where they tell the world they love each other and intend to be together till death do them part. Neither Belle or Quasimodo would want a big, fancy wedding either. And while some might have expected them to get married in Notre Dame, ultimately the place has too many bitter memories for Quasimodo despite Notre Dame holding a lot of good memories for him as well. And Belle is a simple girl, ultimately she only cares about marrying Quasimodo and sharing the moment with friends and family. The party AFTER the ceremony though? Big street party. Even though Belle and Quasimodo are somewhat introverted and prefer small gatherings, they have a huge amount of acquaintances who would want to celebrate them, and they wouldn't be against that. But the ceremony would be just for them, Maurice, Esmeralda, Phoebus and Zephyr.

Sinric

Eric's a prince; his wedding WILL be the event of the century, which is absolutely fine with Sinbad. They're both massive extroverts and thrive in big crowds, Sinbad especially loves all the attention and the jealous glances he'd get all day from bitter, rejected suitors of Eric. There's also the fact they had to hide their relationship for a while so once it's finally out there, they both want to show each other off to the world. Sinbad would hog Eric all night, dancing with him so much they'll both be exhausted by the time their wedding WEEK is over.

Want to ask a question about one of my OTPs? Check the OTP asks here!

#otp #otp asks #otp prompts #wedding #marriage #headcanon #headcanons #hollina #rolfmaine #quaselle #sinric

9 notes · View notes

dearweirdme · 5 months

Note

to be frank, i am glad the jennie/tae situation is over and you can see the switch in taehyung’s outside perception again. That rumor costed Taehyung a positive solo debut and created a bad narrative around him. I’ve been observing people’s reactions (not just ARMYs but Koreans in general) towards the dating rumors since it started and it only affected him negatively.

J*nnie has always been a polarizing person in the industry more so now than ever. She’s always been involved in controversies either about her partying lifestyle, lazy performances or rude attitude. His involvement w her (real or not) did nothing but paint him in a negative light. they would associate him with her every time she had a controversy. During that p*rn series of hers they would involve T*ehyung about his “girlfriend trashy behavior”, then during her whole recent lazy scandal they would say Taehyung is with someone that doesn’t seem to put energy or passion to their job as opposed to him who’s always been known for his good performance skills. And during GD dr*gs scandal they were trying to involve him and BTS by linking him with Jennie who used to date GD and still hangs out with majority of his friends.

It was terrible for him. It switched the way a lot of people (mostly gp) perceives Taehyung as a person because it put into question his character and is not false that bp is a polarizing group in sk and the majority of armys don’t like bp not just for the fandom being awful to bts but because they in general hold a very terrible image and you can tell there’s not love or passion for the work that they do. just 4 airheads that keep taking ownership of the things bts worked for as a group.

i personally saw so many negative media articles about taehyung during that period in a way i’ve never seen before. He’s always been liked by the media. and now that the break up articles came up, i am starting to see Taehyung trending on naver for good positive things again such as how good he looks with his buzzcut or how great he was at the variety show. that relationship with jennie did nothing but bring him down and i am glad he can finally be free.

Hi anon!

Mmm, I think it's very much a point of perspective (and I don't really follow BP, so I'm not sure if I see this correctly). Army generally does not like BP (or maybe moreso Blinks) much. At least, the loudest voices don't really seem to get allong, because I'm sure there's also many Army who do like BP as well.

So from an Army perspective.. BP is the source of all evil in many cases. From a BP prspective, this would probably be the other way around. It's a competion based rivalry I think.. both fanbases wanting theirs to be the Kpop group that get's to be the biggest. Whether this rivalry also exists between Bp members and BTS members themselves is doubtfull I think.

Pairing Tae and Jennie for this was basically the ultimate attention grab... can we actually think of a pairing that would have more of an impact (Kpop wise)? Did they hope for Tae's image to rub of on Jennie? Did that blow up in their faces a bit? Do they see this as a succesfull stunt right now? I do feel it's possible the stunt was pulled before it actually was supposed to. After Paris things got chaotic real fast... and there was definitely more hate than positivity going around. Talking about the amount of attention they got, I'd say they deem it succesfull.. the quality of attention was not that great, but I think that was of lesser concern. Tae is wonderfull, so the possible damage that has been done to his image will be mended in no time.

I am very glad there was an actual visible ending right before his enlistment. This gives a certain level of peace for fandom and I think for Tae personally it must've been some sort of relieve. Jennie wont be blamed for cheating while he's away. And when Tae returns.. all of this will be long gone.

#taennope

10 notes · View notes

benevolentgodloki · 1 month

Text

benevolentgodloki asked: "Admit it. I'm not half bad." (fake dating ;D)

ironifiicd answered:

@benevolentgodloki

There was no denying that the Asgardian cleaned up nicely, looking at the pair of them no one would know that either of them were actually incredibly dangerous individuals only that they were part of New York's prestigious upper class. Walking together with their arms linked does the inventor peer around the room spying particular members of his family to watch out for, his grandmother for starters, as she had been particularly insistent on him finding a date.

"Not half bad at all." If anything Tony was actually rather impressed though he'd hate to admit it, Loki was the perfect image of charm and wit which fortunately took attention away from himself. "Everyone seems to be buying it, that's all we could have hoped for."

Avoiding the poking and prodding of his relatives was exactly what he was looking for, and it made him enjoying the grand opening of a new concert hall in his mother's name are far more enjoyable experience. No incessant questions about his love life, or about his extremely attractive and possibly single Avenger team mates some of them were already aware of, only him eating appetizers and sipping champagne.

The Iron Avenger had no idea why Loki agreed to the charade exactly but nevertheless he was incredibly thankful. Out of everyone he could have asked Loki was the least likely to be recognized but also had an appropriate amount of manners for a high class event. Maybe the god did it for a free show, or perhaps to dig up information about him from his family, whatever the reason was Tony had no idea and that alone was the one thing that made him slightly hesitant about the rest of the evening.

---

In fact, Loki had several reasons for offering himself for the task. He loved a party, especially a swanky one. He thrived among the social subtleties of gossip and judgement unlike the majority of his adoptive species who much preferred a direct approach. The chance to learn more about his fake attachment be it for leverage or general interest was one he couldn't pass up, and if this favour put him in better standing, it was worth the effort.

"Yes, I suppose time will tell," he said after an amused hum. "Had you brought Rogers like so many of them wished, you'd not even see him for getting mobbed. Although, that might have given you an opportunity to slip away."

#t: fake it til you make it #v86 #l: god of mischief #ironifiicd

4 notes · View notes

honest-moth-of-silver-grove · 7 months

Note

For the BG3 Matchups may I offer my tav Jubilee, my little tiefling sorceress had been adventuring for like 2 weeks trying to figure out the origins of her magic when she got yoinked by mindflayers so she has no idea what anyone of any class/role is supposed to be like. She just kinda assumes whatever her companions do is the norm even when it’s really not, Shadowheart hates selûne with a passion I guess all clerics just get grumpy about gods other than theirs and she offered another rouge her blood once because she assumed that’s just how they are and got a horrified reaction. The woman is just taking things at face value and needs to be wrangled by the party about her misconceptions about how this works. This being said she has no idea what a sorcerer is supposed to be like and often ends up acting far more like an overly compassionate Druid or an innocently charming bard. She was working as a baker before getting all the adventuring nonsense and keeps bringing her party member’s pastries the way one would expect a cat to bring you a dead mouse. She is a genuine sweetheart who is deeply in over her head with everything happening too her. She a simple woman with a strong sense of fairness but has some strong people pleasing and attention seeking tendencies. She wants to be liked and while that leads to her being kind and helpful it can also lead to her being pushy. She has a lot of energy and is extremely affectionate to everyone. As mentioned before she’s an avid baker but can also sing and play the lute. She also just loves insects and has a collection of the little creatures, she hates loud noises as she has very sensitive hearing and sarcasm confounds her more often than not. I threw in a doodle of her for fun!

She’s down for Poly and extremely sapphic.

A/N: Lol, I love it! This is now officially a Jubilee stan blog.

And oh my gosh at that doodle? She’s so sweet??? I love her so much???

“She was working as a baker before getting all the adventuring nonsense and keeps bringing her party member’s pastries the way one would expect a cat to bring you a dead mouse.”

@botanicalbard Literally my favorite line ever in a matchup submission, holy shit lol. Like she is so precious! Her companions better protect her or I will personally jump into the game to kick their asses.

Please Like & Reblog!

Okay… So for Jubilee, as you said she’s into women, and down with a poly relationship, I think her best matchups would be monogamous relationships either with (or a poly relationship with both) Karlach and Hope!

♨ Karlach is such a sweet girl, despite years of being forced to fight in hell. She’s kind, happy, and boisterous. She doesn't beat around the bush. If she likes something, she says it. If she disagrees, she’ll make her opinion heard. She has a fair amount of experience, but still manages to look on the bright side without coming off as naive. I think she’d find Jubilee’s innocence and curiosity sweet, as opposed to some other companions who might find it off-putting or dangerous. So it’s okay for Jubilee to take what Karlach says at face value, and in the event she needs clarification (which you said seems to be most of the time lol), Karlach is there, ready and willing to give it to her.

Karlach isn’t a magic expert. She’s a barbarian, so her frame of mind is “If I can hit it, I can damage it”, which, to be fair, works out more often than not. However, I do think Karlach would encourage Jubilee to do some digging into her past and into her possible education, to try and teach herself more about sorcery for a couple of reasons. 1) It would be a great addition to the party to have a sorcerer on board, and 2) Karlach knows how good it feels when she’s being true to herself, smashing the bad guys to bits. She wants Jubilee to feel that self of purpose herself. But in the meantime, Karlach enjoys the way Jubilee acts and approaches situations. It’s refreshing to see someone try their hardest to be a good person. After years of watching armies battle in hell, Karlach has seen people at their worst. Every moment above ground with Jubilee only further reminds her how beautiful and compassionate people can and should choose to be.

She’s also obsessed with Jubilee’s baking. Karlach is a tank, alright. She’s gotta fuel up way more than the other companions. And as long as Jubilee is happy to bring her sweets and pastries, Karlach is more than happy to eat them.

Karlach also feels a duty to protect Jubilee, physically and emotionally, from all the violence and betrayal out there. It’s a harsh world in Baldur’s Gate, and it’s very clear to Karlach and all the other party members that Jubilee’s in over her head. But that’s no matter. Karlach promises to stick by her side throughout it all. She truly believes that as long as they stick together, there’s nothing they can’t do.

Jubilee is similar to Karlach in that they both have a lot of energy. In some ways, they’re both people-pleasing. This can cause some issues, with neither one of the two being able to put down super firm boundaries. Thankfully, Karlach’s protective nature prevents Jubilee from doing anything overly foolish or risky while Jubilee’s genuine love for Karlach reminds Karlach to not put herself in unnecessary mortal danger. Because for Karlach, it’s not just about her survival anymore- it’s about theirs.

Karlach loves when they get a moment somewhere quiet, where Jubilee can sing or play the lute for her. It’s so sweet and peaceful, that for a moment they can forget all their troubles.

I think if/once Karlach’s engine issue gets fixed, the two of them can count on a long future together. One filled with just a bit less perilous adventures and lots of pastry eating together.

❂ Hope is actually the first character I thought of when I read your Jubilee description, (even though she isn’t a companion, but an NPC). She, much like her namesake, is an embodiment of hope in The Devil Raphael’s house of horrors. Despite years of torment and abuse, she still manages to have hope that things will get better. She naively believes that things will end well and that she will one day be free from the literal and metaphorical chains that bind her. That is one of the reasons Raphael chose to keep her locked away, as he could never seem to fully break her spirit, and it infuriated him.

As a cleric, Hope would probably be better equipped with teaching Jubilee more about magic, spells, and sorcery overall. And it’s alright if Jubilee doesn't know a lot, because honestly, Hope doesn't either lol. She’s young at heart and in soul. There’s so much she still wants to learn, and do, and make for others. She and Jubilee could spend time together, each researching their own abilities, while still enjoying each other’s presence/company.

Hope is overly compassionate herself. We know as much because she risks her own safety to help the party defeat Raphael. She’s giving but not completely selfless, asking to be rescued herself. This tells me she would be good at agreeing with Jubilee’s acts of compassion while keeping in mind her and Jubilee’s physical safety as well.

Hope would love to have Jubilee in her kitchen, brightening up the place. After taking the house from Raphael, she tells the player she plans to make the place more homely- some fresh paint, a new atmosphere, and her as the new owner- the place should be in much better spirits. Jubilee baking delicious pastries, and the smell of fresh baked goods wafting through the house just adds to that effect. It’s no longer a house of torment, but a safe home.

And Jubilee being a bit pushy when it comes to people-pleasing won’t be an issue with Hope lol. Hope can be quite loud when she wants to be. Despite her smaller stature, she’ll make sure she’s heard. She has no problem pushing back against things that make her feel uncomfortable. Now that she’s free, she promises to never let herself be forced into uncomfortable situations again. If Jubilee is asking too much of her, Hope will communicate that. And on the other hand, Hope respects when Jubilee puts her foot down on something Hope may want to do. Communication is key to any relationship, and the two of them have it down pat.

And Hope is interested in Jubilee’s insect collection. Hope is pretty small herself, so she feels a kinship with the little bugs and creatures Jubilee collects. And now that Hope has all these rooms, she has no problems converting one of them into a sort of conservatory to house all of Jubilee’s new little friends!

I think Karlah and Hope would get on well. Both of them know what it’s like to be trapped in hell and both of them managed to get through their traumas with their bright personalities intact. The best part about this arrangement is because Hope’s new house is technically located in hell, Karlach’s engine would calm down long enough for all three of them to come up with a plan to fix it. It would be the three of them- a trio of positive like-minded women versus the world.

No imp or cambion, or even Zariel herself could tear them apart. The trio’s collective optimism and hope keeps them together.

#karlach x tav #bg3 hope #hope baldurs gate #baldurs gate imagine #baldurs gate matchups #bg3 x tav #baldurs gate 3 x you #bg3 imagine #bg3 #bg3 matchups #matchups

10 notes · View notes

thecameronchronicles · 2 years

Text

The Quickie

TW: Smut. Language. Semi public sex.

SUMMARY: You and Rudy can’t keep your hands off of each other and it puts your secret relationship in jeopardy.

Word Count: 800

*Requested*

The Quickie

Season three premiere party. Your first one as you were the newest cast member added rather last minute. And yet even if you'd only had a few memorable lines, you managed to attract Rudy's attention from the get-go. The way you remained professional, even despite his attempts to fracture this with seduction and humor, had been whittled down to his overall charm. Whether it was the eagerness and devotion he had to you since you'd first arrived on set or the boundaries he respectfully teased, he had managed to break your rule of not dating any co-stars.

But as you wore the title of girlfriend proudly, you simply basked in knowing you had him all to yourself. And because of that, you didn't feel the need to broadcast it on social media. That and the fact that there existed a fraction of his fans that were beyond cruel and unaccepting of any of his former girlfriends. And for that reason, he wanted to protect you and keep your relationship a secret. But that would be easier said than done as this was the night of the season three premiere party and you had to act your best role yet to act as if you didn't yearn for each other.

"Rudy?" Austin asked as he casually carried the gaze he made to you from over his drink now to your mutual friend who struck up a conversation you'd tuned out to as you could only focus on Rudy. Specifically, the way his ensemble clung tightly to his skin and teased what you knew was well beneath it, the lines of muscle and edges of a toned physique even marked by your touch. You bit your lip at the thought before the sound of your name from Madelyn made you blush.

"Sorry?"

"I wanted to know what you thought about your first premiere...I know they can be a bit intimidating..." You nodded, explaining how you felt so fortunate to have their support through and through as they truly had become more like family in such a short amount of time.

But as Carlacia and Madison then carried the conversation more towards fashion, you would feel your cheeks burn as you caught him looking at you from across the small space you had all shared. With only allowing a smirk as you caught him in your peripheral vision, you decided to torment him in such a way that remained reserved from the close gazes but also direct enough to where he understood your intentions. A simple uncross and crossing of your legs would allow this as you led your hand over your knee, lifting it higher still as he clenched his jaw in imagining his own touch, a thought you shared.

"Pictures!" JD announced as you were now forced to walk the carpet, taken hold by Madelyn on one side and Rudy on the other, you fought to test these limitations.

"God, I can't wait to tear that fucking dress off of you-" He spoke into your ear as your cheeks flushed but you continued to focus on the cameras before you. The flashes and the summons of your names all muffled together as you turned back to him.

"Why wait?" His jaw tensed as you finished your expected photos before moving to the edge of the carpet as his fingers quickly wove into your own.

"I'm so desperate for you..." He groaned against your lips, pulling your leg to his hip so he was able to lift the skirt of your dress even higher.

"I promise tonight, I'll take my time, but right now-"

"Fuck me, Rudy..." He scoffed, lifting you around him after your panties draped over your ankles and fell to the floor following that initial thrust.

"Jesus!" He clawed his dominant hand into you before setting a pace, your jaw clenching to try and keep quiet as your only cover had been that of a sheet hung to keep this half of the venue closed to curious bodies such as yourselves.

"Fuck-" His hand came to your mouth.

"Don't stop moaning for me baby, you know how much I love to hear it...just gotta do it into my hand this time, alright?" You nodded as he kept his pace, building to that edge while offering sporadic kisses along your neck and back to your lips before you'd pull him into your chest. His free hand collected your breast from over your dress.

"Tonight, THESE are getting special attention..." He teased as the dress was too tight to slip his fingers beneath its frustrating fabric as you nodded.

"Oh shit...I'm gonna...oh fuck..." You whimpered into his hand as he withdrew his hand and used it to drive further into you.

"Come for me, baby..."

"I'm-" You gasped, the feeling of that band breaking from within now letting you coat his cock in your slick, which allowed his own final motions to be done in a frenzy.

"Shit!" He suddenly spoke to the sound of a camera's flutter from the near distance as he breathed a sigh of disappointment.

"Guess they know now, sweetheart…"

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @my-baexht-ls @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow smut #outer banks #obx

81 notes · View notes

fishnets-fingers · 1 year

Text

Six Months - Part Twenty Four

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

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n - it’s the one with the wedding and the family celebrating diwali (maybe a tryst in the backseat of harry’s range rover). it’s almost the end of november in the story, which means it’s almost time for layla to bid farewell. thank you so much for reading and loving spy!harry. i’ll probably be writing another part very soon with the princess and the spy, so be on the lookout for that. reblog and like as always. have a wonderful weekend. happy reading!

Word Count - 10.6 k

Warnings - fluff, angst, smut (choking, spanking?)

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

“I have hot gossip,” Layla announces when she gets to the table they’ve been assigned to. The sangeeth has been a spectacle and was currently on a momentary pause as the bride and groom had gone to slip into their third outfits for the night. Three outfits changes for a single evening was too much, even by Layla’s standard of a big fat Indian wedding but she wasn’t complaining. Besides, the grander the wedding, the more fun it was for the guests because Tamil weddings barely have time for the bride and groom to take it all in.

The party didn’t stop with the absence of the bride and groom though. The DJ had invited people onto the dancefloor to give the performing family members a breather. Harry and Layla were the only two at the round table, which was decorated with a centerpiece with overgrown orchids and tealights, and the occupants had abandoned their seats to take part in the festivities. Anne and Earl were chatting away with people who lived on their street, whatever they were talking about seemed spirited from the way the two gesticulated and threw their heads back to laugh. She spares a glance towards Abi and Vasanth swaying on the dance floor to a slowed down version of Unnakul Naane. Vasanth had requested the DJ to pull up their special song, and proceeded to whisk his wife for a dance.

“Lay it on me,” Harry chuckles, turning his body towards her.

“I just heard from a very credible source, aka Dhruv and Ashwin, that the bride and groom are in the stairwell lighting up a blunt,” she tells him, bending down to shuffle the billowing fabric of her lehenga skirt in place once she’d sat down. “Invitation’s open to us too.”

“I wouldn’t risk getting high and walking into this room.” Harry had a point, the giant banquet hall of the hotel had been turned into a wonderful display of colours with the strobe lights and décor, scent with flowers and a concoction of perfumes, and sounds with high energy beats pounded the bass as members of the family danced and put on a show.

“Fair point.”

Ever since Layla professed her love for him - earlier that morning - by the lake, the two were detached from the festivities, preferring to sit back and revel in their feelings. Layla couldn’t tear her eyes away from Harry - in his muted blue grey suit and a mint green shirt that was the perfect amount of see through. She’d even go so far to bet that one else in the room was put together as him whilst also playing with colours. He’d styled his hair to look tousled and it drew more attention to his forest green eyes.

“You look really nice. Pretty even,” she whispers, running her palm down his thigh.

“I’ve been told,” he chuckles. He catches her hand before it could reach the apex of his thighs and brings it up to his lips, pressing chaste kisses to her knuckles. “Feeling me up every chance you get is a great reminder.”

She kisses the corner of his mouth, a quick peck, reaching up to wipe the berry stain of her lipstick from his skin. “Can’t help it,” she shrugs, with an exaggerated pout.

“You don’t look all that bad, baby,” he teases with a kiss to her temple, throwing an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his side. He was captivated the minute he’d saw her in the foyer of the house, bending down to fasten her heels in her lehenga. It was grey and filled with motifs of deers, peacocks, and flowers with colourful thread. She’s left her hair down in loose waves and had parted her bangs in the middle. She’s opted to forgo jewellery other than her giant jimikis that she’d pinned in her hair behind her ear.

“If you want to get laid tonight, I’d suggest you work on your compliments, idiot. I’d take words like ravishing and enchanted,” she giggles.

“We both know that -”

“Layla,” Pooja interrupts. “I’m heading to the powder room, do you want to-’

“Yes.”

They both walk towards the restroom when an older man approaches the two of them, calling out Pooja’s name. He approaches the two of them engaging in chit chat, directing a warm smile at Layla when Pooja introduces her as a neighbour of her parents’. He talks about motherhood with his hands clasped behind his back, which only pushes his gut out more, making him look rotund.

“She’s quite chatty, no? Cooed the whole time I had her in my arms,” he tells Pooja.

“Oh yeah. Baby’s been doing that non stop these days. Almost like I gave birth to a pigeon,” she laughs.

“She’s real cute, ya. It’s a good thing she takes after her dad. We were all worried that she was going to end up a கருப்பு குட்டி (dark skinned baby - derogatory) like you.”

Layla’s jaw drops, watching the older man prattle about how she should add some saffron to her milk to help boost her own complexion. Pooja’s face falls but she doesn’t say anything, opting to look down at her shoes.

“Uncle,” Layla interrupts his monologue. “That’s incredibly rude, what you just did. You just insulted her at her own brother sangeeth, dampening her mood. It’s not okay to say whatever thought that pops into your head. Or did you not realise கறுப்பி (blackie) here also has feelings like you. How would you feel if I called you a bald fat man? I’m sure that even if her baby was dark skinned, they would have loved her just as much as they do now. And I think it’s high time you stopped talking like that to anyone.”

“Look, you’re being disrespectful! Apologise-” he starts before Pooja cuts him off.

“I don’t think she was very respectful with what she just said, Uncle. If anyone was being disrespectful here, it’s you. Now, if you could excuse us.” She turns her heel and walks inside the restroom with Layla following behind her after giving the man a dirty look.

“Can’t believe I just did that. Feels quite liberating. If I can only muster up the nerve to do that with some of my relatives.” Layla shakes off the pent up energy that was still left over from her confrontation. “Shit, I don’t know if I caused any trouble for you,” Layla tells her, pulling out a sheet of tissue and handing it over to Pooja.

“You didn’t. Thank you so much,” she says, with a sniffle. She dabs the tears away from the corner of her eye before they have a chance to stream down her face and ruin her makeup.

“It’s just a tissue,” Layla chuckles.

“No, for standing up for me. I can’t believe people calling me கறுப்பி (blackie) affects me even now as a thirty year old. I’ve been called that a lot growing up and I’ve convinced myself that I don’t care. Apparently, I still do.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what that does to your self esteem. I don’t get why people are so hung up on colour. We’re all brown, are we not?”

“True. Colourism fucking stinks.”

Layla agrees, digging out her lipstick from her sling bag. “You know when I was born my dad told me the first thing he did was let out a sigh of relief because I had a lighter skin. I still don’t get how that could be one’s first thought when they look at their child for the first time.”

“The first thought I had when my daughter was born was ‘not again’ because they’d asked me to push again to deliver my placenta.”

“Gross,” Layla laughs, holding up the berry coloured lipstick wand to her lips. “Don’t let people let you feel like you’re less than just because you have more melanin in your skin. If it’s any consolation, I think you’re very hot,” she feels a warmth spread across her cheeks.

“Oh yeah?” Pooja giggles, adjusting her nose ring.

“Have quite the crush on you,” Layla winks.

“Just the confidence booster I needed. Thanks, babe.”

The rest of the night goes by smoothly without any uninvited comments from strangers. Although Layla noticed the Uncle giving her disapproving nods from time to time, which she brushed off easily. Pooja, Ashwin and Dhruv came over and pulled Harry and Layla to the dancefloor and that’s how the rest of the night flew by - dancing to Ranjithame, Thaikelavi, and Thodakkam Mangalyam. Layla’s positive that all the dancing made her burn off all the parottas and okra fry she’d managed to scarf down from the buffet. Anne, Earl, Vasanth and Abi had all joined in for the cha cha slide and let out surprising laughs when Vasanth and Layla raps Ludacris’s part flawlessly when Yeah played.

It wasn’t long into the night that Abi, Vasanth, Anne and Earl decided to head home leaving Layla and Harry dancing along. Halfway through the dancing, Kadhal Sadugudu pours in through the speakers. The two blush thinking back to the time Harry had gone down on her for the first time as the familiar strums of the guitar reverberates through their heart strings.

Harry had ducked down to whisper, “Let’s get out of here,” against the shell of Layla’s ear and that’s how the two of them ended up in the emergency stairwell of the hotel, with Harry pressed up against the wall.

Layla is on her tippy toes, her hands ravenously tugging the locks at the back of his head while their tongues swirl around. Harry mewls when she gives him a hard pull, pulling her face even closer to his with the way his palms cradle her cheek.

“Fuck, need you,” she pants into his mouth as his lips make their jaw down her jaw to that special part in her neck.

“You’ve got me, Lails. Right here,” he murmurs with honesty, pointing out that she’s had him wrapped around her pinky and that he’s out here in the stairwell ravenously making out.

“Oh,” she whimpers, as he sucks on the spot near her jugular and she can’t help but rub on his clothed fattening prick to reciprocate the pleasure singing through her veins.

“Been handsy with me the whole day. That badly gone for me, yeah?” He smirks against the nape of her neck.

“Yeah. Been super horny all day, I must be ovulating or something.”

He laughs, the boyish one that makes him straighten up and throw his head back as his eyes disappear behind the crinkles in the corner and his dimples flaunt their full glory.

“What?” She asks, poking his side.

“Ovulating?” He shakes his head, wiping the tears from his eyes with a toothy grin. “You’re so lucky I’m willing to look past your ineptness at dirty talk because I love you. Now come on, let's get out of here.”

////

The windows of his Range Rover were fogging up despite the frigid temperature of the pouring rain outside. Harry had quickly zipped the two of them to the lookout spot in Chapel Hill. The minute he’d turn off the ignition their lips found each other again with a ravenous lust, as they both climbed to the back seat unceremoniously. They’d been whispering dirty promises and exchanging passionate kisses as For Emma, Forever Ago was crooning through the speakers.

He licks and nips on her chest as Layla fiddles with the small gold hoop in his ear. “I really like this. Makes you look like an arrogant prick,” she remarks as her chuckle cuts off into a surprised gasp when Harry suckles a mark on the plush of her breast.

“Never not insult me when we’re having sex, dickhead,” he laughs, booping her nose.

“It’s a rite of passage at this point. Like how you call me sweet girl.”

“I do not call you sweet girl only during sex,” he says with faux defensiveness, swooping her now shoulder length hair away from her neck.

“Ow!” Layla flinches with the tug at her earlobe, hands coming to detangle the hair that had knotted itself in her earring.

“Fuck. Sorry, baby. I didn’t-” Harry begins, his deft fingers help her get her hair out of the way before she rips some of it off.

“No, I should have taken them out the second I got in the car. Not very practical,” she remarks, taking off the giant jimikis and tossing them on the passenger seat. She sighs in relief when she massages her angry red lobes, shoulders sagging. “Now where were we,” she smirks, hands looping around his neck, nuzzling her nose against his.

It doesn’t take long until Layla’s lipstick is smeared all over Harry’s mouth with each heated kiss. Fading berry stained tattoos haphazardly trailed down his unbuttoned chest. They’d both managed to maneuver her poofy skirt and tossed it on the dashboard right next to his trousers and briefs. Layla pumped her fist around his throbbing dick in a tantalising pace that made him blurt out a bead of precum. “Love feeling you get hard in my hands,” she says, swirling the bead around his ruddy pink head as his chest heaves in wanton.

He grunts when the tips of her fingers tease his frenulum, wrapping his fist around her hair tugging it back as her boobs press right up against his face. “Sit on my face. Sit on my face, Lails,” he murmurs, voice hoarse with arousal.

“Later.” She tells him, searing an ardent kiss on his mouth, as desire voraciously spreads through her body. “Want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” His fingers dance against her engorged clit, making her choke out a breath.

Even under the dim yellow light from the roof of the car, Layla could tell that his pupils were blown out in desire. She licks down the column of his throat as he dips two fingers inside of her. “So bad.” She moans when he gets knuckle deep, the cold metal of his rings tingling against the heat from her centre, scissoring them as he savours her warmth.

“Getting so wet for me,” he pants into his mouth as he speeds the ministrations of his digits, curling them up to coax her sweet spot. “Love you so much you know,” his hot breath washes against her ear and all she could do was give him a garbled moan as her fingernails sinks into his shoulders, using them as leverage when she moves her hips to aid him in sending her over the edge.

“Gonna come,” Layla warns.

“Want you to come around me, sweet girl.” He whispers, retracting his hand and licking her slick. He makes quick work with the condom rolling it down his length, and tugging himself for good measure.

Layla heedlessly peels off her blouse down her arms, climbing onto his lap. She sinks down on him, as Harry lines himself up, the sensation making the two cry out. Harry scrunches his eyes shut as her scorching hot walls squeeze around him. “Missed this,” he confesses, when she settles against his lap. They haven’t had sex since their fight and Harry wants to travel back and smack himself for acting like a proper knob and pulling his shoulder.

“Missed feeling you inside me too, Har.” She moans, she’s had him in her many times but the stretch when he slips in was delectable every single time. She raises herself up using her knees but he’s quick to hold her down.

“Gimme a couple of minutes. Haven’t done this for a hot minute and I’m trying hard not to nut.” She gives him her signature evil smile as she squeezes her muscles around him.

“Mother of fuck, baby,” he moans out loud, a hand curling on the headrest of the front seat. “Are you trying to end me?!?”

Layla laughs, and squeezes her pelvic muscles around his throbbing dick again enjoying the way his jaw drops with the way his breathing hitches. “Bet I can make you come with -” She yelps when Harry swats her bum.

“Did you just- Dude, you just spanked my ass!”

“Wanna come with you, dickhead,” he whines, hands tracing down her thighs before making their way up to palm the globes of her ass.

She presses a kiss on his lips, a gentle chaste one, as she traps his bottom lip with her teeth. She uses the muscles of her thigh to rock slowly, as he helps her along.

Licentious moans cut through the sound of heavy rain outside as Layla quickens her pace, despite the protest of the muscles in her inner thigh and calves - dancing around in her high heels for a whole night was catching up. She brushes it aside, using her knees to bounce on him to move them to the edge, as his mouth toys with her nipples, suckling them.

“Oh, Har,” she noisily groans, when he thrusts up making her jolt up.

Layla steadies herself by clinging on to his neck, as she moves her hips in circles, giving her clit the friction it craves. Harry’s lips crash with her, teeth clanging as his tongue greedily licks into her mouth. The heat from their core ravenously makes every cell in their body ablaze with desire.

He wordlessly brings his hand up to hers, where it was clutching his neck, and squeezes hers as a form of encouragement. “Choke me,” he pleads into her mouth.

She cautiously presses her hands to the sides of his neck to create more pressure and it makes him whimper. Her pace stutters as one of his hands slips down to rub harsh circles on her clitoral hood and that’s all it takes for her to pulsate around him.

“Say it,” he whispers as he pushes a few rouge strands of stands away from her sweaty face. They were both so close to tumbling over the edge, hearts pounding against their chest, sweat dripping down their backs, wet sound of skin slapping against each other as they move in tandem, stealing each other's moans as they tumble out of their mouths.

He didn’t need to clarify what he wanted her to say, she knew it and her hands migrates from his neck to cradle his face in her palm as her eyes flicked up to him. “I love you,” she says with sincerity, as she comes, quivering as the waves of her orgasm wash through her.

“I love you too, sweet girl.” He follows suit immediately after, from her words as her walls flutter around him, he thrusts up three times before burying his head in her chest as he spills into the condom. He could feel her heart pounding against his cheek, a heart that has now fully let him live inside. He knew they belonged in each other's heart, so it was easy for him to bare it to her, and now she did too. He softly kisses her chest, right over her heart, closing his eyes as they come down from their highs as the speakers in the strums of the guitar echo the last lines from Re:Stacks.

It’s the sound of unlocking and the lift way

Your love will be

Safe with me.

////

“This is a great sign,” Layla declares, staring at her reflection in the mirror as she stamps her coral cream blush onto her cheeks.

“How so?” Harry pokes his head out from her bathroom, turning off the noisy hair dryer. Beads of water trickle down his chest from the shower and her eyes follow their journey to where he has a white towel secured dangerously low around his hips.

“Corrections mean they are willing to print it in their journal.”

Anne and Harry had come over to Layla’s to get ready for the wedding. Anne needed help with draping her saree and Abi suggested that they get ready together, and Harry had just followed suit thinking he could hop in the shower to get a quickie in with Layla. But when he’d walked in, she was already sitting on the floor in her robe, doing her eyeshadow with her hair meticulously braided and pinned back.

“It seems like a lot to do with their deadline. We have to run the stats again,” he says, walking over to stand behind her, teasing his hair with his fingers and setting them in its place.

“They’ve given us a week. We just need to eliminate some outlier scores and run the t-test again. I don’t know why I didn’t catch on to the fact that the tests didn’t come out significant despite the difference with standard deviations,” she shakes her head, before dropping her brush and picking up an egg shaped sponge to blend out her blush.

“I was the one who ran those tests. I should have figured too,” he mumbles. They had woken up to an email from the publisher asking them to make a few corrections to the paper they had submitted.

“It happens to the best of us,” Layla shrugs.

“I have two shoots this week.” He grumbles.

“I’ll do it. If I focus, I can finish it in a day tops.” She spritzes her face with some setting spray, and fans her face with her hands.

“That’s not fair to you. We’re coauthors.”

“I'm not gonna take away your credit or something,” she chuckles, twisting back to look up at him.

“Do you not want me to do it with you?”

“I didn’t say that, Harry.”

“I feel like you did. You did this all the time in college, did you not? Work on group assignments yourself because Layla’s the smartest and professors worshipped the ground you walked on.”

“You’re turning this into a me problem,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I offered to help. You don’t get to do that. Check yourself.” She gets up brushing past him, picking up the saree that she’d laid on the bed.

“Just tell me that I’m not smart enough, so you’d rather do it yourself,” he tells her. “Come on, Layla. You know you do.”

“I never said that, I’m sorry you feel that way. But none of what I said was intended to make myself seem smarter than you. I just didn’t want you to stretch yourself thin. I know you have a job and I didn’t want you to feel like it was your fault to fix.”

Harry takes a shaky breath in, “Sorry, it really fucked with my head that most of the edits were the parts that I did. I’ve had a long break from academia and I’m terrified that I’ve fallen off the wagon and I can’t get back up again.”

“Come here,” she pats the spot on the bed and Harry sits. Layla drops her saree and settles next to him. “I’m terrified that I won’t be able to get back into the groove too and I only took a year long break. You can’t think like that. You still update yourself with new research, you read books - cut yourself some slack, you haven’t finished undergrad yet. There was no one I hated more than Kothari because Research Methodology was the one class I had to work my ass off. My professor held my hand through the entire journey of my first ever paper. You’ve done so much all on your own. So, I’d say you’re smarter than me-”

“But you helped me,” Harry cuts her off.

“I helped after you put in the hours to understand. You did a giant chunk of the heavy lifting. Don’t demean your work like that. This paper would not have existed if not for you, babe.” Layla squeezes his palm to provide reassurance.

Harry sighs but she continues. “It’s minor corrections and it’s a good thing. This is not a subpar journal where they publish anything that gets emailed to them. It’s one of the leading journals for behavioural science. Ecoanxiety is such a hot topic at the moment. We have an edge over other papers - we're looking at things from an earth science and mental health point of view. The fact that they gave us time to tweak stuff means they liked it enough to feature it in their next quarterly print.”

“You’re right. I just got too in my head…”

“That’s okay,” she tells him, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “We’ll talk about it more when we get back.”

On cue, Vasanth pokes his head in the room after a sharp knock, looking at his niece and her boyfriend who were still in their clothes. “Kutti, why are you two not dressed? Aunty and Anne are almost done! You’re gonna make us late!”

“It’s a quarter to seven. Calm down, we have lots of time!”

“The ceremony starts at seven thirty, Layla! Get your ass up and put your clothes on,” he says, walking into the room, fully dressed holding one of his veshtis. “Go change in my room. Aunty is in there and will help, otherwise you’ll take forever.”

“Ugh! You need to chill. We’ve got forty five minutes-”

“No, we don’t! The drive to the venue takes twenty minutes-”

“Fine. I’ll go,” she grumbles, picking up the green silk fabric and walking out of the room.

Vasanth shakes his head mumbling to himself in Tamil. “Here,” he hands the gold fabric to Harry. “The straps have velcro on them, so it’s easy to wrap around.”

“Can you give me a hand, please?” Harry asks nervously, he watched a tutorial on YouTube but still was unsure on how the veshti was going to stay in place.

“Of course, Harry.” Vasanth locks the door as Harry heads to the bathroom to put on his boxers.

Harry wraps the cloth around his hips as Vasanth helps him tug and tuck it firmly into place. “There,” Vasanth says, stepping back to check if things look okay. “You can let go now, Harry.” He notes chuckling at the way Harry’s clutching their makeshift skirt to his body.

“Is it okay if I wear a belt?” Harry asks, eyes wide. “What if it comes undone?”

“Well it won’t unless you step on it but I think it’s better to be on the safe side. Mine did come undone once.”

“Really?”

“Yup. It was my first time wearing a veshti. It was at my cousin’s wedding and my Dad had helped.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“No way! Did you step on it?” Harry asks, lopping a belt around his waist and shimmying it down to the gold border.

“Layla did. She just started walking - it wasn't so much walking, it was more waddling. I remember it so well,” heat floods his face from the embarrassing memory that was etched into his brain. “I was laughing with my cousins at the back of the room. She was calling for me, squirming from her mothers arms and reaching for me. Her mother put her down and everyone’s eyes were on her because it was the first time the extended family got to see her walk. She managed to toddle all the way across to my feet but tripped on the carpet and came tumbling down. She managed to grip onto my veshti bringing it down with her.”

“Shit,” Harry says, pursing his lips to hold his laughter back.

“You can laugh,” Vasanth says. “I’d managed to hold onto it before I flashed my underwear to everyone. No one cared though, they were busy tending to her crying. My cousins never let me live it down though. One even managed to film it.”

Vasanth noted that Harry skipped the matching gold silk shirt of his and had buttoned on a satin green shirt. Harry gave him a shy smile and told him that he’d wanted to match Layla. The master walk in closet was filled with giggles and the strong scent of hairspray for it being very early in the morning. When the boys walked in to hurry them along, Harry caught Layla pinning jasmine onto his mother’s hair. She was wearing the same outfit from Vasanth’s wedding - sans the heavy jewellery, it made Vasanth sigh wistfully thinking how quickly years flew by. Vasanth had hurried over to his wife, kneeling down to help her fix her saree pleats, and to help slip on her wedges. Abi had clipped on a nose ring on Layla that she pulled off in minutes, saying it made her feel like she was about to sneeze. Harry and Layla had even managed to sneak into her room and recreate the Gucci and Crocs pose - one of Layla sitting on his lap, Harry’s hands looped around her waist as Layla cradles his face smushing their noses together. By seven fifteen, everyone was ready and was herded into the car by Vasanth, they’d made their way to the venue.

////

The bright orange and yellow leaves had been replaced with barren branches. Everywhere Layla looked had small mountains of dried leaves piled in the corner of people’s yard. The days were becoming shorter and colder. The temperature in the evenings dipped down to a four and two and Layla was learning to adapt to it. There were patches in her face, where the skin felt stretched thin and started to hyperpigment, Abi had given her one of her heavy duty moisturisers to help curb it. Layla had been begrudgingly using the thick cream on her face, cursing her water like gel moisturisers for not being occlusive enough. The plunge of the temperature also came with Layla complaining that the heating was not enough for her at night. Instead of turning the thermostat high to warm up the whole house, Vasanth purchased a portable heater that she religiously plugged in, next to her bed, at night.

On the other hand Layla was delighted to drink soup almost everyday. She had access to many cuisines here than she did back home, so this particular afternoon, she had ordered a tub of Tarhana Çorbası and vegan shawarmas for Harry and Earl. Harry had popped in the For Emma, Forever Ago vinyl - he’d picked up earlier that day from the store - on the record player, and the croons of Creature Fear filled up the room.

“So, he made this album by himself in a cabin in the middle of nowhere?” Earl asks Harry.

“Uh huh, he got his heart broken and moved to his father's cabin in the middle of winter and wrote this to help himself heal,” Harry replies, spooning some soup into his mouth.

The two were in deep discussion for the past hour, and Layla was happy to sit back - wrapped in a fluffy throw - listening to the two talk animatedly about the arrangements, the use of stripped back production and how the scratches in the recording added a level of intimacy.

“That’s not entirely true,” Layla chirps in.

“So Emma is not his girlfriend?” Harry asks.

“I think she is but Justin Vernon said that it was more of a headspace. The pain one gets stuck in.” Layla picks up the oyster mushroom that had slipped out on the plate from her roll and pops it into her mouth.

“Interesting,” Earl says, reaching forward to grab a glass of water. “The lyrics are very vague. Hard to discern.”

“Layla has all sorts of theories. She was the one who introduced Bon Iver to me. She’ll ramble for hours.”

Layla laughs. “I only went on a deep dive for re:Stacks. It is such a sad song-”

“I don’t think it is. I think it’s a very hopeful one,” Harry cuts her off, cheeks staining a deep red as he remembers their moments of passion in the backseat of his car.

“I disagree. I think it’s of him finally making his peace with sadness and acknowledging that it will always be a part of him. But I can see how it could be hopeful as well.”

“Isn’t that hopeful, Layla. Coming to terms with distress?” Earl asks, scratching his brow.

Layla brows furrow when she notices Harry’s lips move downward in a frown but doesn’t linger on it, turning her attention to Earl.

“Again art is subjective and this is my two cents, but I don’t think sadness passes nor does grief. Speaking from experience, it’s like a tidal wave at first consuming every cell in your body. You get pulled in by the current and when you manage to break through to the surface and take a breath, everything is wonderful and then after sometime there’s another wave. And I think that’s how it is until one day the waves become weaker and you’re becoming better at paddling away. It doesn’t mean the waves aren’t there and it won’t pull you under if you stop paddling,” she explains.

“You can swim to an island. Just saying,” he shrugs. “Some people choose to be in the water, almost like they want to romanticise suffering.”

Are you implying that I do that? Is the question Layla wanted to ask but she holds back, settling on arching her eyebrow at him instead. “I suppose, but swimming takes up a lot of courage. Just food for thought. The island thing makes sense too.”

Earl clears his throat. “There’s no wrong answers in art. How far along are you with the edits on your paper?”

“We’re almost done. Just a few more hours,” Harry says.

The two tell him more about their paper, and Layla tells him that this is her first paper where the coauthor is not one of her professors. Earl lets Harry and Layla know that he’s proud of them and that he has a bottle of champagne in his fridge they’d open once it’s their paper gets published. The conversation turns to the wedding and Layla explains some of the traditions that happened in the ceremony for Earl, using Google to confirm certain things. When they’re done eating, Layla throws their takeout containers in the trash as Harry loads up the plates and cutlery into the dishwasher. Earl hands his wife’s cookbook to Layla and she quickly takes a snap of the Crawfish Étouffée recipe she wanted to try out for dinner. Harry runs to the loo before they head out to the post office as Layla heads over to the living room and slings her tote - one with the three paintings that she needed to ship - over her shoulder.

“Shopping?” Layla asks, handing over the green Gucci bag that he’d asked her to get from his office.

“Yes but not for me. It’s for Harry.”

“Cute,” she chuckles. “You already wormed his way into his heart with Gucci.”

“Harold,” Earl calls out, when he hears the flush in the bathroom.

Harry saunters into the kitchen island, looking at the two with expectant eyes. “Hmm?”

“I know I bought Layla tickets to Disney as a thank you for helping out, so I thought I’d treat you too.”

“You did. The trip to Disney World. I’m going too,” he shrugs, looking over to Layla wordlessly asking her what he had up his sleeve.

“Yeah but I still wanted to get you something. Here,” Earl hands the sage green bag over to him.

“Gucci? Uh… thank you. This must have been so expensive,” he says, looking into the bag.

“It’s not like I’m taking my money to the afterlife. Open it, will you,” Earl urges.

Harry pulls out the small box in the bag and undoes the white bow. His eyes bug out of his head when he pulls the lid off, and bites down on his bottom lip to keep himself composed.

“It’s a charm. I didn’t know what to get, so I’d settled on the one fruit you beeline to when you visit me,” Earl explains. “I’m not familiar with jewellery. Hell, I hadn’t bought one since my wife passed. But you pull them off so well and -” he’s interrupted by Harry’s snickering.

“Harry, stop laughing! You’re being very rude,” Layla says and Harry bursts out laughing, hand coming to clutch his peck as his green eyes disappear behind the crinkles, dimples stretching out as the two blocky front teeth make their full appearance.

He wordlessly pushes the box over to her and she sneaks a peak and starts giggling along with him. “Earl! It’s a-” she breaks out in a cough, which only seems to spur on their laughter. “That’s not a ban-” Harry howls, wiping down the tears that escape from his eyes.

Earl picks up the luxurious box that Layla had abandoned on the counter, and squints to get a better look at it. It was an oxidised silver charm, with a pop of yellow for the peel. It looked like an ordinary banana, he didn’t get why the two were on the hunched over his counter gleefully giggling.

“Glasses,” Layla manages to get out. “Please put them on,” she barks out.

He slides the pair that was hanging off the pocket of his shirt and pushes it up the bridge of his nose. The tiny charm comes into focus again, and this time he notices the subtle grove at the tip of the fruit, and it was something he hadn’t noticed while he was ordering from his computer screen because he didn’t have his glasses on. Instead of it being an innocent gift, it had turned out to be a phallic symbol. “Oh dear,” he mutters feeling the heat flood his face.

“It’s a penis,” Layla snickers.

“No. No. A banana penis!” Harry chakles.

“We can return it,” Earl says. “We could get something else. There was this ring-”

“No returns! I l want my banana penis!” Harry interrupts, taking the charm and sliding it on the chain with Layla’s help, adjusting it until the banana penis proudly hangs in front of the gold cross against his chest.

////

Despite a thick duvet covering the two of them, Layla had the air conditioner turned on in the home theatre room in fear that the PlayStation would overheat and explode. It wasn’t an irrational fear, but the whizzing of the fan got noticeably louder with each passing hour as she played. But the machine had quietened down when she’d turned on The Blair Witch Project. The DualShock no longer had a blue glow it did settling into nothing as it powered down after several minutes of inactivity.

Harry was splayed out on top of her, quietly snoring into the crook of her neck, nestling in between her breasts as one of his hands clutched the material of her ratty tshirt. He’d strolled into the home theatre room late afternoon in a hoodie and the tiniest shorts and flopped on top of her grumbling about taxes. She’d pulled up the movie on her console to help him unwind, only to find him out cold forty minutes in. She wonders if it’s due to exhaustion or if he was freaked out. Mitch had told her found footage horror gives Harry the ‘heebie jeebies,’ when they were watching Paranormal Activity on FaceTime - where he snoozed through the second half of the film. She wonders if it’s a way to get out of watching the movie; she rarely ever woke him up and he ended up blissfully unaware.

When the infamous scene with an up the snotty nostril shot of one filmmakers, her phone repeatedly buzzes. She squints at the display, eye slowly adjusting to the bright screen from the dull cast of the projector, to find that it was a group FaceTime request and it doesn’t take long for her thumb to swipe across the screen. Her friends’ face beams from the rectangular squares echoing a varied response of hellos.

“Wassup wassup?” Layla says quietly, reaching for her controller to pause the movie.

“Are you sleeping? We can barely see your face right now,” Heidi says.

“Why are you whispering?” Grace asks.

“Was watching a movie and someone’s fast asleep,” she replies, tapping the button to flip the camera to show them the brown locks of Harry’s crown. She flips it back to her face soon after, the free hand that’s not propping up her phone slithers inside the hem of his T-shirt to draw aimless teardrops down the skin of his back.

“She’s such a hypocrite,” Ramya shakes her head. “She’s such a snob about watching movies with us and her boyfriend gets to droll all on her when the movie’s playing.”

“I’m not a -”

“You are!” Susan cackled. “You kept shushing us every five minutes when we watched It at Sathyam.”

“You all were making jokes from the minute it started. It ruined my immersion,” she shrugs.

“You and your immersion. You ruined clowns and the circus for me, you fucker.” Heidi flips her off.

“Why did you come to the movie about a murdering clown then?”

“Shut up,” Heidi sticks her tongue out at her.

“I guess taking sexy pictures and posting them online is laborious,” Ramya comments at Harry snoozing away.

“Okay. That’s enough,” Layla’s eyes narrow.

“It was a joke! Not judging,” Ramya throws her hands up.

“He actually works hard, which is wild to me because I thought OnlyFans was the easiest thing to do. Like he works out everyday because he feels like he needs to because people are paying him to look a certain way, and then there’s the planning of the shoot and the editing. The editing takes forever,” Layla sighs. “He was telling me yesterday that there was this user who was being demanding with him, that it crossed a lot of boundaries.”

“Can’t he just block them?” Grace asks.

“It’s not that easy. This dude has been tipping him - quite generously - and been a subscriber for a while now, so if he did block him, he’d have to give back all the money he’d ever sent to him.”

“That fucking sucks! That’s the site’s policy? I assumed for it being one of the main platforms of adult entertainment, they’d have more stuff in place to protect the creators,” Susan sighs.

“Yeah. I read some of the messages and it’s scary but he’s dealing with it. This is not his first time, apparently.”

“How long does he see himself doing this?” Grace asks.

“I don’t know. He started it to not be financially dependent on his mum after the move. And education is fucking expensive here, unless you get a good scholarship - which I am sure he would. But he likes doing it, I think. His shoots are quite creative and I think he likes the idea of expressing himself…so I don’t know,” Layla shrugs.

“Did he manage to save up? Or..” Ramya trails off.

“Oh yeah. He’s managed to save up quite a bit. His closet has a good chunk of designer stuff - Gucci especially. He owns a two bedroom flat in London that he rents to his friends. He drives around in a fucking Range Rover. He gets me expensive things… He has an accountant and all. He had a meeting with him earlier this afternoon. I think they have to file taxes in two months, so he was talking about W2 or 1040 or something. He’s rich. Scrooge McDuck rich. Richer than all of us,” Layla whispers, emphasizing the last part. Right before he’d flopped on her - tired from his meeting - he'd told her that he’d got a great return from the IRS.

“Speak for yourself,” Heidi chuckles. “I just saved up all my money from Wollys and invested in three gold biscuits.”

“You never told us,” Grace says.

“Yeah and I live with you!” Susan accuses.

“Appa (Dad), sends me money every month anyway for everything. So I saved up all my Wollys money and asked Appa what’s the best way to freeze it because with each passing day I just wanted to spend it, so he’d bought gold biscuits.”

“Next time you decide to be all wise, let us know, so we’d make sound finance decisions too. I was just gonna put all the money the college is paying me in the bank,” Layla says.

“I managed to save two lakhs from my alary and I put it in a fixed deposit,” Ramya says.

“I haven’t even thought of how I am going to save,” Grace says. “And I get paid next week.”

“Next week?”

“Oh yeah, Susan, I get paid bimonthly.”

“How was your first week at your first proper job?” Layla inquires.

“Fun. Scary. Felt like a proper imposter the entire day. Especially the first day when my manager was showing me around and telling me about all the departments, I was like what the fuck am I doing here with all these smart people.” Grace replies, “Especially since I was the youngest. The clothes helped a bit. Thank you for that by the way.”

They had got on a call three weeks ago to help Grace decide on her best officey outfits, what to keep and what to return. Layla had been no help half asleep in the middle of the night telling her that she’ll look great as long as everything was black.

“Did anyone compliment your outfit?” Ramya asks.

“Nope. They all wear jeans and T-shirts. My manager was wearing ripped jeans when she was showing me around. I was told by my coworkers that it’s casual unless they have to be in a meeting with a third party. So I’m glad I only kept three outfits and returned the rest.

“But I’m still figuring out what I’m doing and the office culture and all that but with each passing day, I surprisingly handle it,” Grace tells them.

“Alright! That’s how you kick ass! Watch out New Zealand government, Grace is coming!” Heidi exclaims.

“Speaking of kicking ass at the workplace,” Susan says, “Ramya here looked so much like a teacher on her story yesterday!”

“Oh my god, yes! That kaajal bleeding down and smeared, and her hair in that unflattering bun,” Grace agrees.

“That bindi and her jhumkas. Everything was so perfect!” Heidi chimes.

“Yes, I’m so glad that you find my underpaid, overworked teacher at an NGO look hot,” Ramya says dryly. “Now stop flirting with me.”

“Don’t be like that! I need you to teach me a lesson, mommy,” Layla teases.

“You’ll be a good girl now, won’t you?” Ramya giggles.

“Yes. I. Will.” Layla says without missing a beat, making everyone crack up.

They ask Ramya what her plans are for her birthday and she tells them that she’s planning to take off from work that day to try and sleep in, go out for lunch with her parents and brother, and head to a slam poetry event she was performing at. When asked why she didn’t want a party, Ramya told them that she would most likely go to some afterparty thing at one of the performers houses - parties with those types of crowd were invariably filled with cigarettes, tetra packs of Old Monk Rum, plastic bottles of coke, and one person pulling out a guitar to sing along. Layla despised that crowd but she did go to one of those after parties once on Ramya’s insistence, only to book it home thirty minutes later - when her wheezing flared up from the incessant huff of tobacco smoke of the crowd - after her mother’s face lit up her phone screen and three texts from her father. She was eternally grateful for having the world's strictest parents that day. Meghna and Ramya had officially parted ways, Meghna didn’t want to get into a relationship with someone who didn’t want to be with just her and Ramya respected that. She had been dealing with the heartbreak better than what Layla and her friends anticipated. They’ve chalked it up to all those videos that Ramya had sent of them detailing the tantric sex escapades she’s been having with Krishna - who was tagging along with Ramya to the afterparty. Layla sniggered while watching them before agreeing with everyone that all of Ramya’s hippie dreams are materialising with her new girlfriend.

“Guys please tell Heidi to stop making friends with the men I bring home,” Susan exasperatedly groans.

“Excuse me?!? Fuck you! What do you expect me to do when there’s a man standing in his ஜெட்டி (boxers) in my kitchen early in the morning?” Heidi counters.

Layla sucks in her lips to keep herself from laughing at the two, but Ramya and Grace giggle.

“You need to stop Heidi,” Grace says, “It makes it harder to boot them to the curb.”

“I thought you didn't bring boys home. You usually go to theirs and slip out no?” Ramya asks.

“I did but this boy-”

“Okay! I’m gonna tell them!” Heidi cuts Susan off.

“Don’t you dare bitch!”

“She’s bonded with this boy,” Heidi whispers to her friends, like Susan wasn’t on the call and in the room right next to hers.

“I have not!” Susan vehemently shakes his head.

“You don’t bond with anyone!” Grace whisper screams. “How?”

“Because he-” Heidi stops bursting into a fit of laughter.

“What?” Layla, Ramya, and Grace all ask in unison.

“It’s nothing,” Susan insists.

“It’s not n-noth-nothing,” Heidi manages to sputter between bouts of giggles.

“Tell us!” Ramya insists.

Heidi takes her glasses off to wipe the tears that have streamed down her cheeks. “Last week-”

“You promised not to tell!” Susan says.

“Don’t listen to her. Tell us!” Layla urges Heidi.

“So, Susan was doing it with his guy last week and I get a call at like one in the morning-”

“I swear to God,” Susan groans, hurrying up from the bed, leaving her phone to flop over and have the camera point to the white popcorn ceiling. Three seconds later, they see Heidi’s door burst open to have Susan stomping over and Heidi’s camera frame shakes as a squabble breaks out in Tamil.

“They were fucking so hard and he managed to yank her earring and split her earlobe in two!” Heidi howls in laughter and Susan smacks her shoulder, cursing her.

“Aiyo! Christ!” Layla gasps.

“Fuck! Are you okay?” Grace asks concerned.

“How did it even happen?” Ramya implores.

“I made her promise not to tell,” Susan mumbles, falling onto Heidi’s mattress in defeat.

“Why not? It’s just us,” Ramya says.

“It’s embarrassing! People in the emergency room were laughing,” Heidi snorts.

Susan lifts her hair up and out of her face to show them her right ear lobe, which now had a white bandage taped over it. “It doesn’t hurt. Had to get my lobe sewed together though. The doctors said they’ll take out the stitches in a few days and I can wear earrings after it fully heals. It happened so fast. We were doing it hard and fast doggy style and I think he bent over to pull me up or to grab onto my hair - anyway and the next minute there was blood and he had my hoop in his hand. Safety tip from now, if you’re wearing big earrings, especially hoops, take them off before you have sex,” she mumbles sheepishly.

“I had to go to the emergency room and thank fuck for insurance but after I knew that she was okay, I laughed for like ten minutes, because I thought she was dying or something,” Heidi explains.

“I wish I did. It was mortifying,” Susan buries her face in her hands.

“Ever since then, the dude’s come over a lot since then and he's also Tamil and likes Vijay movies, so my friendship with him was instantaneous,” Heidi shrugs.

“A man with a fine taste,” Layla agrees. “I’m with Heidi on this one. Anyone who’s a fan of Vijay is an automatic friend.”

Susan rolls her eyes, when Grace beats her before she says something, “Is he feeling guilty? Is that why he’s coming around?”

“He is definitely guilty but we just sit and watch 80's Tamil movies together now.”

“Who knew that ripping Susan’s earlobe in half was all it took to ignite some type of feels,” Ramya chuckles. “What happened to that white British boy you were hooking up with from your class?”

“Oh, he’s been avoiding me like the plague because he insisted on anal and I told him it’s only fair that I get to do it to him before he does it to me,” Susan shrugs. “I think it’s a fair trade.”

“It totally is. Dudes should know what the experience is like. Jake has been trying to do anal with me for like three months now and I can just about tolerate the second biggest buttplug,” Grace says.

“And you don’t wanna?” Layla raises her brow.

“God no. I like giving up the reins when I’m having sex. Like the bed is the only place when I love being submissive.”

“I don’t think I’d survive being with someone who owns a penis,” Ramya grimaces. “I don’t know how you all do it.”

“What’s their obsession with putting it up your colon? Like is the one designated hole not enough for you?” Heidi rolls her eyes.

“I have no clue either. But I think Layla and I are on the right track with these Brits though,” Susan says.

“What track might that be?” Layla questions.

“Colonising the colonisers,” Susan’s eyes glint mischievously, and everyone bursts out laughing.

“Colonising the colonisers,” Layla repeats her pun, shaking her head as she snorts and guffaws. Harry startles awake from the way her body convulses beneath him.

“Wha’?” He blinks lazily, propping himself up to look around.

“I’m sorry, babe. Susan said something funny. I didn’t mean to wake you,” she softly says, cradling his face, cooing as she gets him back on her chest.

“Huh,” Harry lets out a small sound, eyes already drifting shut from the way Layla’s fingers move his hair away from his eyes, and the lazy scratches, from blunt nails of her other hand, down his back.

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep, Har. It’s alright.” She lulls him back, waiting for a few moments after his breathing evens out before picking up her phone to find her friends pouting.

“Who knew you could be so gentle,” Grace teases.

“Can you come put me to sleep like that?” Heidi chuckles.

“Okay. Okay. Shut up.” Layla rolls her eyes. “I’ve become a softie. Let’s move on.”

“How does it feel to have a buttplug in your bum?” Ramya asks Grace. “How do the logistics work?”

////

Deepavali in Chicago looked vastly different from Deepavali back home in India. If Layla was with her parents, then the entire house would be in shambles - cardboard boxes everywhere, piles of old books, newspapers, and clothes to give away. Her mother scrubbing every crevice of the house, her father up in the lofts demanding that Layla hold on to the step ladder so he could get down. Her grandmother vigorously sifting rice flour and prepping to make poli, achumuruku and thattu vadai to gift friends and family. Her grandfather calling her every three hours asking her what firecrackers she wants from the shops, even if it’s been years since she had the desire to light up a sparkler. Distant sounds of boom and a gleeful laugh of children echo from the street on the days leading up to the day, praying out to the gods to part the grey clouds for sunshine, so they can burst all the new crackers they’ve stashed away.

Layla had chalked up Deepavali at Apex to be more of the same with the neighbours and the throng of Indians her Uncle and Aunt were friends with; she'd even imagined lighting up a sparkler with Harry in the evening. Her notion of an almost homey celebration was dispelled the minute Vasanth had told her they were leaving for Chicago to celebrate with Senthil, his first cousin. They’d initially planned to pop over to Layla’s other Uncle’s after the New Years but that quickly fell through when her flights got preponed a week. So, they packed their bags and flew over to spend four days with Senthil.

His two bedroom flat was sparsely decorated, the grey walls had nothing lively bouncing from them to permeate guests with warmth. Layla tutted with disappointment when she walked into his bedroom to find him still sleeping on a blowup mattress.

“You’ve been here for ten months and you didn’t have time to buy a bed?” She’d asked him.

“I sleep in the hospital, kutti. You think I have time to come home, much less decorate it,” Senthil reminded her. He moved to the States for a three year foetal and neonatal surgery program at Leurie’s.

Being the youngest of the cousins, Senthil practically was closer to Layla’s age. So, when he’d taken Layla, Vasanth, and Abi to see the lit up trees at the zoo their first day of visiting, he begged Layla not to call him Uncle in front of his friends. But Layla being Layla came up to him as he was waving his friends off, “Can we head to the gift shop and get the giraffe soft toy, Uncle?” She tugged at the end of his coat sleeve, giving him and his friends her sweetest of smiles.

When his friends’ brows dipped, gazes moving to and fro from Layla to him, “I became an Uncle when I was seven,” he muttered sheepishly, readjusting the scarf around his neck.

When they’d left, he locked his arm around her neck, yanking her to him to twist her ear. “Happy now, குட்டிச்சாத்தான் (demon baby)? Come I’ll get you your toy,” he rolls his eyes, walking in the direction of the gift shop.

“I don’t care for one,” she giggled. “Just wanted your friends to know that you have a grown ass niece.” She shrieked, running towards Vasanth and Abi for cover when Senthil chased after.

Deepavali morning consisted in all of them bundling up heading to the Chicago Bean and bimbling around the neighbourhood, in the early hours. Grey clouds and sticky skin was replaced with biting frigid wind and pink noses. They started on making lunch - or a very late breakfast - getting on FaceTime calls with Layla’s mum and grandmother to guide them along in making the dishes, so they’d taste like they were cooked back home. This Deepavali was quieter, less about celebration but more of enjoying each other’s presence. Layla could not remember the last time she did that with the people back home. Layla was grateful that she wasn’t given the lecture of why paying respects to the Gods is vital from her parents and grandparents and disapproving of her atheism. As much as Chicago’s Deepavali was distinctive from the one’s she’d had back home, she finds herself missing the chaos and fanfare of Chennai.

“So you’re not going to be a clinician and practice?” Senthil asks, peeping at Layla’s laptop screen; she was filling out applications for schools.

“I didn’t enjoy my clinical or counselling internships. The fun ended right after I figured out the diagnosis. I’d much rather work behind the scenes, plus it’s not like I won’t get to use my psychotherapy skills in research, especially with participants.”

Vasanth turns around walking towards the two, with a ceramic bowl in hand. “Admissions have started ah?”

“Yeah. They have been for the past week. Already done applying to University of Boston and UMass. Thought I’d apply for Northwestern when I’m in Illinois.” She picks up the bowl from Vasanth, and starts mixing the hung curd, honey, and turmeric into a paste with the spoon.

“We’d be so close! Northwestern is like thirty minutes from here!” Senthil exclaims, adjusting the flimsy plastic shower cap on his head. “I could drop you off everyday.”

Layla laughs, noting the way Vasanth frowns at the corner of her eye. “Don’t go making plans yet. It’s a private uni and it depends on my stipend and fee waiver.”

“Yeah and you're heading back to India in two years, so she’d have to look for apartments smack in the middle of her doctorate when your fellowship is done,” Vasanth reminds him

“Or she can just stay here and find a flatmate,” Senthil tells him. “Four more applications to go. Deadline’s the first of December. Seems like you got this,” he pinches her cheeks, before grabbing the television remote.

When Abi keys into the apartment, with a plastic bag containing all the ingredients they need to make Mysore Pak, the sight in front of her cracks her up. She had all but popped over to Trader Joes for two hours and was mystified about the things that transpired in that short time span. Senthil had a transparent shower cap on and Abi could make out the slick paste of black hair dye underneath. Vasanth had his hair pushed back in one of her hairbands and had a thick goop of pastel yellow paste spread evenly on his face and neck. Layla’s hair was oiled, tied into a braid with her bangs clipped away and donned the same yellow mask on her face as her Uncle. Abi’s sure this is all her niece’s handiwork; she had a knack of making her Uncles bow down to her whims. The three were dancing in the middle of the living room rapping Madai Thirandhu from the noughties.

////

Harry refreshes his inbox again, maybe his MacBook was glitching. He rubs the sleep away from his drowsy eyes, making sure his brain wasn’t playing tricks on him. Maybe it was just a dream, the kind that starts out with rolling out of the bed with unruly hair, reaching over to his pen and journal from his nightstand, and being distracted by a chime from his laptop.

A notification pops up on the top right of his screen signaling that Layla had sent him an image, he clicks on the text instead opening up his iMessenger screen to a selfie of Layla standing underneath the Chicago bean. Her hair was up in a ponytail, bangs pushed to the side, her face being swallowed by a fuzzy red scarf as she winked at the camera.

Layla: happy deepavali from the bean!

Harry: Morning Morning! How’s the celebration coming along?

Layla: we’re just planning to eat until our stomachs are ready to pop. oh and senthil uncle says hi!

Senthil had swiped through Layla’s photos from her trip to Wilmington as she was animatedly talking about her much needed beach day. He found the picture of Harry making kissy faces at the camera on the oyster boat, and Layla immediately snatched the phone away as a knee jerk reaction. He’d laughed when she went teary eyed beseeching him to not tell anyone in India. Senthil was surprisingly cool with it, but it didn’t mean that Layla was spared from the lecture about relationships and responsibility.

Harry: Hello to Senthil Uncle! He’s the one who was in fourth grade when you were born right?

Layla: affirmative. miss you lots 🙁

Harry: We FaceTimed last night, remember?

His face floods a wash of pink recalling their desperate whines and lewd grunts as they helped each other relieve themselves. He went to bed with a dopey smile on his face when he’d pressed the red button wishing her happy dreams.

Layla: how could i forget… made me lose my bearings from 800 miles away 👀

Harry: And don’t you forget it!

Layla: i’m being shouted at… gtg. see you tomorrow morning! i bloody love you babe 😘

Harry: Love you too Lails!

He closes the program to be met with his inbox again. Letting out a heavy sigh, he opens the email again frowning when it doesn’t change. As eyes scan the words ‘Dear Mr. Styles,” his stomach churns knowing what's coming next but before he could read it again, he’s gunning it to the toilet slapping a hand over his mouth.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!