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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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Give me Barty who is starved for touch and affection because he's never known it and Regulus who is terrified of it for the same reason.
Give me Barty who learns how to sit in the stillness/silence without shattering it because he knows its where Regulus finds peace, and Regulus who learns how to fill the silence with idle musings because he knows how Barty's thoughts race when it's too quiet.
Give me Bartylus who try to be what the other needs and falling short because they're both broken in ways that can't just magically be healed by a partner, but it's enough anyway because they're trying and they don't have to navigate it alone.
Give me Bartylus who choose each other again and again, even when it's messy and hard, because they know what it's like to be overlooked and left behind.
Peter making a self deprecating joke about going on a diet and Sybill getting really close to his face, wide-eye staring at him through her jar bottom glasses and threateningly whispering
Fancy - Moonwater - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 365 words - AO3
Regulus enters the flat to Remus exclaiming, “Oh, fudge cakes!” from the kitchen, instantly rushing to him, fearing the worst—a nasty burn or a deep gash on his hand or a fire. He sighs in relief as he comes face to face with his boyfriend waving smoke from the oven out the open window, no flames and seemingly unharmed.
“What a lovely dish of ash,” he jokes.
Remus rubs his face, turning to look at him apologetically. “I was trying to make your favourite childhood meal, but I obviously messed up. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“I was just joking; you don’t have to apologise for not being able to cook a very complicated meal that even I can’t make.”
“You didn’t even know how to cook pasta properly when we met,” he retorts under his breath.
“I did, I just liked letting you teach me.”
“Sure, you did,” Remus responds sarcastically, smirking slightly. “I just wanted to make you something nice to celebrate your promotion at work. You truly deserve to feel special and appreciated.”
It’s just then that Regulus notices the bunch of flowers on the counter and remembers passing by the table set with candles and the nice dishware, too worried about the potential disaster in the kitchen to pay it much mind.
“Remus, darling,” he says, stepping forward to wrap his arms around his waist and gaze into his eyes, sweet and golden like honey, a sense of feeling home wherever he is with this man, “I don’t need some overly complicated meal or fancy date, I just want you, that’s the best reward for anything I could ever achieve.”
Inching closer, Remus murmurs, “I love you,” as he tenderly connects their lips.
“I love you,” he replies. “I won’t say no to the flowers though.”
He chuckles. “There’s also a box of chocolates in the fridge.”
“Well, I say we bin the cremated food and have the chocolates and some wine instead. We could even order a takeaway, something actually edible,” he grimaces, not particularly being a fan of the greasy, unhealthy food, but he knows that Remus would feel better after having an entire large pizza to himself.
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"Here is our child who is very orderly and has very black and white patterns of thought and is a very picky eater, she was diagnosed with autism at four and we worked hard to make sure she was accommodated through her education because she is easily frustrated when she doesn't see the logic of a teacher's approach or thinks she's being treated unfairly. Sometimes it's a bit of a struggle with the food, but we work around it as a family."
"Our other kid is very bright and is neurotypical as far as we know, but is very stubborn and argumentative and insists on wearing one ratty old jacket every day and eating the same breakfast and lunch every day and has a sleep disorder and is messy and forgetful and always loses homework and has gotten in a few fights "defending" other kids, oh and is also dyslexic but we worked through that so they read about twenty novels a week so at least they're not getting into trouble at parties or anything, even if we are a bit frustrated that they keep failing math and science classes while getting high grades in everything else. They'd be such a good student if only they put in a little effort or paid attention."
By the way, we all agree that if Grace did have a dog, Stratt would have adopted it after sending Grace into space, right. Like, this woman wouldn't have let anyone else do it. She would have cared about it better than she cared about herself, (platonic) dead wife style.
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Pandora is the missing button from your coat, she is the smell of damp earth, she is the stained carpet, she’s a snapped pencil lead, she’s a ripped umbrella, she’s the acid burn in her counter, she’s a broken pearl necklace and she’s the smoke drifting away from an explosion