Shane Hollander is a paranoid Airport Dadâą and I WILL elaborate, actually
He's got a packing checklist, he is fully packed 3 days before and is making adjustments based on weather patterns up to the day before.
He is at the airport 3 hours early, NO EXCEPTIONS.
Tragically for him, he learns that his boyfriend is a "shows up with like 40 minutes to spare holding a coffee cup." Airport Gremlinâą
The first time they get to travel together Shane almost considers breaking up.
Now, I do think that after that first disaster, once Ilya understands how important and stressful this is for Shane, he DOES get on board with the program
(canonically, this dude brushes his teeth before kissing Shane in the mornings, changes their bedsheets after sex so that Shane is comfortable getting back into bed - Ilya WILL make space for habits that help Shane feel most comfortable.)
But will he make fun of Shane while he does it???
Oh abso-fucking-lutely
Ilya: Hollander, our flight home leaves at 9:30 in morning, so I am thinking we might need to cancel dinner reservation the night before, yes? Will that be enough time for airport? đ
And he absolutely doesnât tease while theyâre actually going through the process of driving to the airport, parking, checking bags, and going through security. He knows that will just set Shane off horribly. Itâs only after theyâve found seats at their gate 2.5 hours before their flight leaves that he exaggeratedly checks the time on his phone and says, âwhew, I think we have just enough time for coffee, but definitely close one đâ
Ilya: do I have time to use restroom, you think? đ€
Shane: get fucked, Rozanov đŸ
Ilya: oh, like mile high club? if you insist đ
And Shane just makes these faces đ đ all morning, but he also doesnât let go of Ilyaâs hand
Itâs a whole routine and actually does wonders for helping Shane manage his anxiety about travel schedules that arenât team-managed and how overstimulating airports and flying can be
introduce - jegulus - @jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic - word count: 332
âI want to introduce you to my parents.â
Regulus, who had been laying across Jamesâs lap, sat up and gave him a deeply concerned stare. âPotter,â he said slowly, narrowing his eyes. âWeâre at your house. I have dinner with your parents every evening. Your father and I just had an hour-long conversation about the benefits of adding mint to Pepper-Up potions. Iâd say itâs a little late toââ
But James sat up, maneuvering them both so they were facing each other. âNo,â he said gently, grabbing Regulusâs hands. âI want to introduce you to themâŠas myâŠâ but he trailed off, large, hazel eyes uncertain as he looked over to him.
Regulus gave him a small smile. âBoyfriend?â he asked, chuckling at Jamesâs blush.
âYes,â James nodded, face breaking into a huge grin. âYes, that.â
âAlright,â Regulus agreed, trying to hold back a smirk at the way James had reacted. âYouâd do well to tell Sirius first, though, or heâll murder you in your sleep.â
âHe already knows. How I feel, at least,â the older boy replied, shrugging and laying back down. âCanât lie to him.â
Something wiggly and hot filled Regulusâs stomach. âOh,â he whispered, smiling again.
âOh?â James repeated, looking up at him uncertainly.
âYes. Oh,â he said with a grin, moving back to lay on his lap. âDidnât know you were so painfully obvious, Potter.â
âIâm notââ
âSo when will you be doing this introduction then, Potter?â Regulus asked, chuckling as he cut him off.
âMaybeââ
âNo need,â Effie Potterâs voice came from the door.
Both James and Regulus shot upward and apart, eyes wide.
âMum?!â James gaped, looking terrified.
Effie, however, just looked amused. âJamie, you absolutely are obvious. Your father and I have known for weeks, you two are bloody adorable. Now, remember to keep the door open a few centimeters, yeah? Iâm not ready for grandchildren!â
Face beet-red, James curled in on himself in horror as Effie walked away laughing. Regulus, however, just couldnât stop smiling.
July 14 - word count 456 - prompt from rosekillermicrofics -
Cw, dysphoria, self-hate, thoughts of SH (kind of)
Prompt - Rush
Regulus gritted his teeth, then stepped in front of the mirror. Heâd thought he was prepared. That heâd steeled his resolve. But nothing could have readied him for the revulsion that swelled in his stomach like a raging fire at the sight.
Nothing could have prepared him for the fury and anguish that burned at the back of his throat like bile, bitter and unwanted, but impossible to send away.
For the rush of shame that made him want to claw at his own skin until there was none left. To tear himself apart, until he was less than human. Or at least, less than this.Â
The dress, which heâd found in the darkest corner of his closet, left nothing of his natural shape, so to speak, to the imagination. He regretted ever picking it up off the floor. He should have burned it. Unfortunately, it felt necessary. It was Thanksgiving, and he was going home for the holiday, though he wished more than anything, that it was avoidable.
Walburga would flay him alive if he didnât wear a dress.
âYou look like shit.â Regulus whirled around, his eyes lighting with misplaced rage, which he couldnât take out on himself. He hadnât even heard the door open, distracted by the self-loathing thoughts that were still running rampant. The sensation that his skin didnât fit overwhelming.
Barty, however, wasnât done. âWear this instead.â Regulus froze. âBarty, thatâs a suit.â His boyfriend raised an eyebrow, as if in challenge. âSo?â Regulus shook his head, and the heat had left his voice by the time he spoke again. âYou know I canât.â
Barty ignored him, and stepped forward, pressing the more masculine outfit into Regulusâs hands insistently.
âYou can. I wonât have you hating yourself today. Take the dress off, or we arenât going. If she has something to say about the suit, tell her Iâm controlling, if you must.â The instructions rolled off the brunetteâs tongue with ease, like he had no hesitation or qualms at all about facing Walburgaâs wrath in Regulusâs stead.
He wouldnât budge on this, and Regulus knew it. He appreciated it, really. He was glad to have someone so determined, and so supportive, at his back. He opened his mouth to say so, but Barty stopped him.
âBasic human decency, is not something to be thankful for. You wouldnât thank me if I said you were allowed to eat. Donât thank me because Iâm telling you that youâre allowed to not despise yourself.â
Bartyâs voice was stern, and brusque, but Regulus could see the care and concern flickering in the other manâs gray eyes. Barty pretended to be indifferent, but Regulus always knew, Barty loved him, just as much as he loved Barty.
If you think Bartemius Crouch Junior is capable of having normal sex then youâre wrong.
Heâll be inside Regulus talking about needing to be âcloserâ
Regulus of course asks what the fuck he means by this. So he traces his finger down her clavicle, her sternum, down over to her stomach until heâs right over her pelvic bone.
âI want to cut you open from here to here and feel you from the inside out.â
Anyway, I love the awful, bickering sibling dynamic between Cygnus and Walburga - Iâll take any excuse to write the Black family as fully developed characters. Somehow, Cygnus worms his way into everything I write and their dumb dynamic helped me survive the long edit of my last Bartylus chapter.
Introducing Regulus 'if you tell my mother I know what wanking is I'll kill myself' Black
"You really must do something about your sleep, darling," she murmured, reaching over to swipe her thumb beneath his eye - as if the burst capillaries were smudges she could simply wipe away. "You look absolutely dreadful."
Regulus offered a tight smile. "Sorry, Mummy."
"What on earth have you been doing all night?"
Further down the table, Cygnus snorted. "I know what I was doing all night when I was his age."
Walburga shot her brother a withering glare. "Your table manners are regressing, Siggy."
God - what Regulus wouldnât have given for Sirius right then. Heâd have cut in with something sharp and scathing, just enough to shift the spotlight. Just enough to spare Regulus the creeping flush rising from collar to cheek.
Suddenly, he was coping about as awfully as heâd feared.
"Oh, please," Cygnus laughed indignantly. "Regulus, tell your mother - youâre eighteen. Of course youâre up all night, getting yourself off to -"
"Cygnus!"
"Wally! I guarantee if you go through his search history, youâll find -"
Cissa kicked her father hard under the table - but it was far too late.
Regulusâs pulse had spiked - sudden, off-kilter - and for a breathless, irrational second, it felt like his lungs had been squeezed flat. He lurched to his feet, knee catching the underside of the table, drawing out a sharp, shallow gasp. Cutlery clattered in his wake - a scatter of silver on china, ringing louder than it should have.
"JustâŠ" he grimaced, dragging in another shallow breath that barely filled him. "Uh - just going to the bathroom."
He didnât wait for permission - simply turned and moved as smoothly as his stiff limbs would allow him, pulse still skittering - though his uncleâs low scoff caught up with him before he reached the door.
"Told you. Like clockwork."
[1.2k words] | nsfw! because itâs Bâs pov and this girl has dirty thoughtsâŠ. enjoy<3
âOkey,â Bee says through a bite full of apple where sheâs propped against the backside of a seat, âFuck, marry, killââ
âNot playing this anymore,â Regulus replies, stabbing at her ceasar salad in lackluster fashion.
But Bee continues, unbothered, because Regulus doesnât mean it. Because sheâs said a similar variant of that same sentence for the last two rounds already. Yet sheâd still given Barty thoughtful answers. And so will she this time, too.
Bee lets her gaze rove over the students on the grounds. Itâs sunny outside, unusual for this early in the springtime, so naturally the meadow in front of the enormous, colosseum-esc entrance of the university is packed with people. Small groups of them studying, some more active with frisbees or slack lines and similarly lame shit and some loners here and there with a book or simply headphones.
Bee picks her way through the masses to choose. âMmh,â she makes thoughtfully, tongueing at the corner of her mouth, âCallisto Greengrass,âŠAmycus Carrowââ
Regulus, visibly oh so disinterested looking, makes a retching noise at the mention of his name.
âaaandâŠâ Beeâs eyes keep skipping off people. Not interesting, jock, bland, Barbie much?, ew, tool, is that the janitor?, meh, ohâ
Who do we have here?
Bee squints and as the girl shifts, long hair gliding over a shoulder, revealing a sweet, rounded, freckled face she grins. Teeth glinting and digging sharply into a chapped bottom lip.
ââand Lily Evans,â Bee concludes, proudly.
That pick in particular manages to raise Regulusâ head with curiosity, following Beeâs line of sight.
âWho?â she asks.
âEvans,â Bee repeats, imploringly, âMiss organisation committee co-president in her very first year.â
And she sees itâin Regulusâ expressionâthe moment she makes the connection, the moment her eyes land on Lily, recognising her, remembering her. Or, the thoughts Regulus has had about her, rather.
Because Regulusâ eyelids flutter and the tip of her tongue darts out to wet her lips before, suddenly, her face goes blank again, the signature crease between her manicured, dark eyebrows reappearing.
She huffs, irritated, and lets herself fall into the backrest of her chair, dramatically. Her arms cross, going a full level 3 on the Regulus-Black-annoyance-scale, which is right before âsnapping & bitchingâ, and only topped by âtoddler tantrumââthough Regulus prefers the term âprincess predicamentâ for the latter.
Itâs a miracle, really, that Beeâs never made acquaintances with that stick up Regulusâ ass with the amount of times sheâs been in there.
âIâm waiting,â Bee sing-songs. She lets her hand find its way up Regulusâ neck, fingers taking a grip at the roots of her thick, wavy hair. With a slow twist of her wrist she urges Regulus to look back into the direction of Lily, forcing her to rethink her decision.
Her back is tense, cheeks rosy and Bee sees when she swallows thickly, instantly affected by the controlling touch.
Regulus makes a grumbling noise, still acting all prissy and reluctant, because thatâs just her thing, Bee guesses. Just like itâs Beeâs thing to keep poking fun at her until eventually she loses her cool and explodes, or, in rather few but still existing cases, doggedly tries to one-up Bee. Trying to make a snide remark even closer to breaking than pushing their boundaries than Bee, something even nastier, a stab wound even deeper, even closer to something important. But only close, never purposely dead center. Never fatal. Maybe they like to leave scars on each other like this, as evidence perhaps. Some fucked up form of security.
I know you well enough to know where it hurts just right. Look, this right here I caused after you said something mean about my shoes in 3rd year. And remember this? You did this after I insulted your brother one too many times when we were drunk the night before graduation.
But, well, what can Bee say? Thatâs just how they work. And they like it that way. Bee would choose this over any other sort of relationship a hundred times over and the decade theyâve known and stayed with each other is evidence enough that for Regulus it is entirely the same.
Itâs a unique bond to have and Bee treasures it.
âFine,â Regulus hisses between her teeth, âKill Amycus.â
Beeâs grin widens and she drags the nail of her thumb rewardingly along Regulusâ scalp, âThere we go. Good girl.â
âMarry Callisto, I guess,â she continues in a petulant mumble.
Beeâs grip tightens again. âWhy?â
âNgh- âCause sheâs sitting on a fuck ton money of real estate inheritance.â Regulus is glowering at her now, pale grey eyes gleaming threateningly and Bee loves it. Loves the way Regulus thinks sheâs winning now, how she thinks sheâs the one a step ahead, not Bee. Loves how Regulusâ triumph carries naivety each and every time, so sweet and mouth watering like a sugar coated piece of sour candy.
âAndâŠ?â Bee goads.
Regulus huffs, gnaws on her bottom lip until it comes away swollen. She takes a deep breath beforeâ âFuck. Evans.â
She says those two puny words like it physically pains her to do so, like Bee is actually forcing them out by a string wrapped in barbed wire and not like sheâd been secretly fantasising about it months ago. Because she had and Bee knows.
âYeah,â it rolls off Beeâs tongue syrupy slow. She relinquishes Regulusâ hair in favor of grabbing her by the jaw instead, knocking around her head gently, âyeah, you gonna fuck Evans, huh?â
Regulus is helplessly staring back into Beeâs eyes, up from under long lashes, lips parted. âI- no, itâs just aââ
âOh, but you would,â Bee cuts her off knowingly, bending her long torso over Regulus, âYou want to.â
And Beeâs got her squirming in her seat now, black nylon clad thighs and the shortest plaid skirt moving against scratched, faded green plastic. Because Regulus is feeling things that make her nervousâexcitement and shame, desire and resentment and confusion.
Eventually Regulusâ face falls into a cute frown, eyes averted but defiant, âDoesnât matter anyways.â
Bee searches her gaze again, ducking lower, âWhy wouldnât it matter?â
âBecause,â Regulus huffs, âIâd never in a million years simply walk up to her. Iâd probably barely even do so with a good enough reason.â
Thatâs not a satisfying answer. âGood enough reason likeâŠyour best friend really badly wanting to watch you get flustered by a foxy redhead?â
Regulus bats a hand at her, tsking. âGood enough reason like, fuck if I know, like a- a group project, perhaps.â
Bee lets herself sit with that thought for a moment.
She imagines long nights at the library, messily done up hair, focused eyes tearing through page after page while teeth nibble absentmindedly on the end of a pen. Short skirts rucked up, blouses undone comfortably by a few buttons, a peak of a lacy bra, or a nipple even if sheâs especially lucky. Bee imagines the warm, familiar weight of Regulus in her lap and the strange and exciting feeling of wrapping her free arm around a chubby waist. Each hand toying with a head of hair, one wavy and black and smelling of shea butter and one thick and straight and auburn red.
4 AM thought - But do you think Barty craves skin-to-skin contact? Just pure, holding someone tenderly with their shirts off. Someone tracing gentle patterns into his skin, talking about nothing and everything with that person. Even if Barty is not a gentle person to anyone who observed him from the outside.
I think Regulus and Evan would be an exception to that. Barty has a lot going on in his life, pressure from his father mostly. Putting up a front around other Slytherins. Or even Ravenclaw if that's where you prefer to sort our boy of the hour.
Evan and Regulus don't dare comment how late at night he's climbing into their beds, shirtless. The first time it happened it was Evan. Tugging silently at his shirt. Evan first thought Barty was trying to get him out of bed for some prank... But when his eyes adjusted to the dark. He spotted the clouded look in Barty's eyes, the way his forehead wrinkled up in stress. After a few moments of Evan trying to get Barty to tell him what he wanted. "Take off your shirt." was whispered from him.
Evan really just wanted to get to sleep so he just scoffed and removed his shirt allowing Barty to climb in under the covers next to him. What he didn't expect was Barty to shove himself so deeply into his space. His nose pressed into the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Their sides pressing into each other. Barty's ribs digging into his own almost uncomfortably. It became a common occurrence after that. Typically after stressful days.
If Evan wasn't available, or feeling particularly irritable with his curtains charmed shut, Regulus became his go to. Regulus at first just about hexed the poor boy for startling him awake. But recognized the distant and pleading look in Barty's eyes, commonly seeing it in himself. He relented, allowing Barty to pull his shirt off for him. Barty held Regulus gently. A stark difference from the eager and all consuming way he placed himself in Evans arms. He was gentle. And Regulus reflected that onto him ten fold.
ANYWAY goodnight. I think about Barty a lot clearly.
Barty who always comes down for breakfast like twenty to thirty minutes after Evan and regulus because he stays rooted in bed to watch regulus change (and heâs so obvious about it, his curtains are wide open and heâs straight up staring, regulus knows but like Bartyâs his boyfriend they literally slept together the night before he doesnât care) and then jerks off about it when they head down without him because regulus putting clothes on is almost hotter than watching him take them off at night because heâs hiding that delectable body for everyone else and only Barty gets to reap the fruits under those clothes.
Barty has cum in his own hand faster than he ever has masterbaiting before every time he thinks about regulus clasping his damn bra or sliding his sweaters over his head all graceful like or buttoning his dress shirts or god forbid when he watches him brush his hair with his pants still off and his very regular looking panties on display. Barty jerks to that shit like heâs not literally gonna fuck regulus later that same day (which heâs over the moon for dw)
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