#Layla's Sketch Books

[kragggon]

"So! I was out and about in the mountains near my home city, looking for interesting creatures to take pictures of. I got stopped by a wildling kobold-- much taller, beefier, and more uh... 'traditional'? Cousins to us cityling kobolds. He told me in Scalespeak (thank Sahvriyol I speak it) that I wasn't welcome in their territory, and I may've listened to him and the pike he was whirling around if he wasn't riding a Silver Monster!!

I'd never seen one before, not even in the Phonan zoos, so I begged him for a chance to get some pictures, maybe give it a pet or two? He thought it was funny, and said as long as I turn around and leave right after, he'd allow it. Needless to say, that was the best experience I had that day! His name was Kirasir (the Silver Monster I mean) and he was very friendly and surprisingly photogenic! I don't think I got a single bad picture of him.

Silver Monsters in general are pretty friendly monsters-- they'll only attack if you have 'food' on you. They're a species of Insectoid Arcfauna, and a very close cousin of Rust Monsters who eat tarnish instead of rust: despite the name, they don't eat just silver. Wannabe pathmakers, don't forget to memorize all the metals that tarnish: steel is one of them!

They are social pack monsters, who live as part of a hive in a biiiiig underground network of tunnels that they carve from the earth. They communicate by rubbing their antennae with each other's: certain patterns mean certain things to them. Kirasir tickled my arms quite a few times with his, I'm not sure what he was saying but I hope it was something happy! Due to tarnishable metals being a little rarer than rusting ones, they're a bit smaller than their Rust Monster cousins, so they can eat less. Their carapace is also a bit smoother, since they prefer to run away when threatened: they're incredible burrowers, and they can dig a hole and hide in less than 15 seconds, even in solid stone! Still, it's probably not a good idea to go out and pester them. Silver Monsters will fight back when they have numbers or are cornered, and even if you're not wearing tarnishable armor, their bite is designed to pierce rock, so it'll certainly take a chunk out of you. However, they don't usually fight to kill, and once you back off or can't chase them anymore, they'll probably run away.

Unlike Rust Monsters, which are a bit more aggressive, Silver Monsters make great pets! They're very friendly and they have a surprising amount of personality-- they're even great with kids! However, I implore you to do a ton of research before you go get one. You don't want to be one of the people that has their houses fall down when the braces to your support beams get eaten! However, it's certainly possible if you're wealthy enough to keep them well-fed and you have a large enclosure made out of non-tarnishable, sturdy metal. I hate having to say this so often, but when you're getting a pet, especially an exotic one, do. Your. Homework. However, the groups who have the most unanimous success with Silver Monsters are the wildling kobolds.

I guess I should probably talk about them too, huh? Wildling kobolds live in tribes out in the wilderness-- they would make great insight for all kinds of beasts if they weren't so territorial. They make great smiths, combatants, and beastmasters, making Silver Monsters perfect companions to them: not only can the wildlings feed them well, but they're small enough to ride the Silver Monsters as mounts! Wildling scouts like the ones I met patrol the crags with hooked pikes, designed to grab and pull to make up for their height disadvantage. Coupled with the facts that Silver Monsters can climb on walls and up trees, a skilled wildling kobold rider is an amazing fighter, able to use their environment to gain all kinds of advantages over their opponent.

I'm glad that guy (I forget his name, sorry) thought I was funny, because I admit I was pretty intimidated to see him! He was a pretty relaxed guy once the initial tension died down. I will say, DO NOT DO WHAT I DID. I am a kobold, and even if I am a cityling, wildling kobolds still somewhat see us as 'kin'. They are extremely territorial as I said, and they will not give a non-kobold a second chance. You've been warned! "

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Written by @pyyakelp, slightly edited by me. In case y'all didn't know, we share lore with our stuff.

[lazycranberrydoodles]

rare pen doodles cause finals week is grinding me into a fine dust

[takunwilliams]

new sketch book entry by technodrome1

[luke-o-lophus]

A Ship of Theseus

Summary: Half a year after Ammit, the Moon Boys have moved in with Layla again. One day, there's a special delivery. A blast from the past, in the most mundane way imaginable.

A/N: A character study of an adult survivor of childhood abuse. What is means for memories, belongings, and justice

------------------------------------------------------------------

It's another of those days.

On most days recently, stuff around the house is just...stuff. Then every once in a while, they seem to stare back at him. Try to provoke him into a conversation, introspection, memories.

Until recently, there wasn't a lot of belongings Marc had held on to. When he'd left the house, he could take only as much as he could fit in two bags. And he definitely wasn't aiming to include keepsakes. In a way, that had been easier: living in a space that looked absolutely different. It was easier to pretend the child in his memories wasn't really him, or at best was just a version of him. It's been fifteen years since.

When Marc moved back in with Layla, half a year past the Ammit situation, things had become completely different. Steven was in the picture now, and he came with his massive stack of books and an aquarium Marc found unnecessarily huge for two fish. "It's bigger than my army room", Marc had grumbled to Layla one evening as he helped her carry her stuff into their new apartment.

Between her and Steven, it's easy to lose yourself in the warmth of home. At least that's what Marc had hoped to do. Until Elias called again. As he does. When Marc refused to speak to him, Steven suddenly found himself on call with a father he had no memory of having. But Elias called to talk business. He was selling some old furniture from the house; too much stuff for one person he said. Layla listened to it all with rapt attention as her husband curled up on her lap. It was the memories that were hanging too heavy on Elias, that much was obvious. But she wouldn't tell Marc that, she wouldn't set him on another path of feeling guilt for his choice of cutting contacts. Marc had already done enough, and Elias not nearly so.

Two months later, Packers and Movers delivered a mountain of packages from his once 'home'. Marc eyed the pile with obvious distress, second guessing his choice of accepting the unused furniture just sitting around the house. It'd saved them good bucks they could now use towards a proper honeymoon in the Maldives.

The biggest piece of furniture was a heavy desk, now dismantled into pieces and neatly packed. It had been a gift from his grandfather when he turned five. The man liked to spoil his grandkids. In the years since, the table became his sanctuary. He sketched and played on it, and hid under it when needed. The table had been his constant, his only witness. The only piece of wood in that house he found claim to.

But seeing it now, in this form, sent a chill down his spine. The power tools were ready, it'd take just hours to put it all together. Piece by piece, construct back the silent observer of all those childhood experiences: the ones he remembered, and the ones forever lost to memory. He'd have to bring them back, by his own hands.

Layla was only a little surprised when she came home that evening. Normally Marc hated having things lying around, leading to endless complaints of Steven's untidiness. But she'd guessed the table would be, quite literally, a lot to unpack.

"You don't have to", she told him over a cup of tea. "We can sell it, or put it in storage somewhere. Anything." Marc sighed deeply, shaking his head. "It's mine. But I...", he didn't really want it around. It wasn't comforting. His home with his wife and his alter was his safe haven.

But it's also sacred. Some planks of wood simply nailed together; the weight of which only his tiny young shoulders knew. In one teasing example of the ship of Theseus, Steven told him. If you take it apart piece by piece, and build it back together, is it the same anymore?

Marc doesn't know. He leaves the philosophical shit to him and Layla. But he does know what it makes him feel, unlike either of them. It's only him, and the voice inside of him, flaring up from all those scared memories of a bruised kid hidden beneath the wide tabletop. Teary eyes demanding justice...from himself if not from anyone else.

It's been almost thirty years, and Marc still doesn't know what justice looks like for them. How is he supposed to make the correct decision? From the opposite wall, the propped up packages seem to follow every movement...observing, judging, waiting.

"I was thinking...", Layla chimes in breaking his train of thought. "We should head to Maldives in October. Weather should clear up by then...and it won't be too hot." Marc purses his lips in thought, considering the idea, glancing between the cardboard and Layla's jade black eyes.

"That's two months, huh? Yeah...should be enough time to plan", he shrugs. "Tell Steven, he'll be thrilled." "We can finish setting up the flat when we're back", she starts washing the cups. Marc stares at her back, as she's seemingly lost in her world. Another deep sigh, his eyes closed, memories of the desk, memories of this kitchen countertop, Layla sitting on it...the day they made S'mores together. "Yeah...", he smiles, walking up to her and putting the cups away. "I'll....put these in the storeroom till then?"

"Yeah sure, we can deal with them once we're back." she flashes him a blinding grin. "So, honeymoon, huh?"

Marc chuckles, and wraps her in his warmest hug.

[gebstargeb]

Art dump 👍(16 drawings, roughly chronological)

first/second digital drawing on PC! been using ibispaint since birth. I used to constantly be like "oh drawing on your phone isn't that hard it just takes practice!" like girl you're not gonna know that you're in hell if you were born there 😭

Art fight for ritterdoodles oc, Calaca, my favorite art fight from this year. First digital drawing in half a year, then immediately forgot how to do line art afterward and stopped drawing digitally for another half a year.

Steven at his desk, tried to replicate the shading from my art fight attack but… lord it's kinda ugly

trying rendering out on PC for the first time, eurgh

Sketch for a fake Daredevil comic cover? Looks like I'm the floor and he's about to death-drop on me

a sketch for a comic about daredevil being emo and being like “No… I only work alone...” Moon Knight and spider-man are there of course

Harvey from Stardew! My go-to spouse, going for Krobus in my current save though. Practice for a school club, I'm making pixel art for our game! large gap between this and the previous one

I like this drawing a lot and drew it specifically for Instagram, but I don't want to post it there because Peter B. looks pregnant. I NEED to practice drawing chubby people

Digital rendering attempt #2. mmph. its questionable. tried really hard on the composition too lol

steven and layla in their hero suits but they're also in dresses... muah... this was very hard to draw I do not know how to draw two people looking at each other without them looking flirty

spider miku comic book cover! drew it to try and relearn digital art! her webs are music notes! large gap between this and the pervious one

trying to reteach myself line art, halfway through I realized it kinda looks like that "all or nothing" Tumblr post and stopped in fear

large gap between this and the others. I was digitally lining a sketchbook spread and had to crunch out some lineart warmups because I was struggling so hard, idk why lineart is so stressful for me lol

this is gorgeous this made digital art click for me again I love layla shes so pretty shes my wife

realized if I wanna do lineart warmups I should do... just lineart... wow. I'm like plato.

tried to recreate the beauty of number two, not same vibe but still very pretty!!!

hmu for commissions 😘deviant art points only tho <//3

[angelbreak]

Lost

Summary: Daryl takes Layla into the woods. She's convinced they're lost, he proves they aren't. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Layla (female!oc) Pov: Layla Setting: Alexandria | pre-commonwealth Rating: All ages Warnings: slight gore? pretty much just fluff. Word count: 948

"Dixon, just admit we're lost." I sighed as I slumped against a tree and Daryl kept quiet as per usual. I tapped my feet against the ground as he glanced around, "Can I just fire a flare so Rick can find us or are you gonna continue to be stubborn?"

"We ain't lost," he grumbled as he looked at the leaves on the ground and the twigs snapped under his feet slightly as he began walking away.

With a huff, I pushed off the tree and followed behind him before mumbling, "Guess it's the latter then."

He didn't say anything in response, only held his crossbow close to his body as we wandered through the woods and I followed him blindly. We were supposed to be back at Alexandria by now and the sun was going to start setting soon meaning the walkers would appear soon after. I hadn't been prepared to be away from home this long and I was growing impatient.

After another 5 minutes of creeping behind Daryl and wondering where we were headed, I once again asked, "Can I fire the flare gun yet?"

I once again got no response and I was growing frustrated with the silent treatment he was giving me, "Dixon!"

"Shut up!" he held his hand up as we came to a clearing in the trees and I looked up to see a small shack ahead of us that I hadn't seen before, "We ain't lost. I was bringing you here."

He walked towards the shack and I noticed a walker near the front door but Daryl had shot it with his crossbow within a blink of an eye. He trudged over to the body, pulling the arrow out and a splatter of blood sprayed onto the door before he carefully opened the door, making sure no one or nothing was inside. I held my switchblade close to my body but I followed after him. Once he cleared the place, he gave me a nod and I closed the blade, sliding it into my pocket as I closed the door we walked in.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked as I threw my backpack on the floor beside the door as he made sure the back door was locked closed. He motioned for me to follow him as he walked into a small hallway and I did just that. I saw him enter a bedroom to the right of the hallway and I crept in after. He sat down on the edge of the old and dusty bed that looked like it hadn't been used in months.

He pointed towards the corner of the room, "That's why."

I walked towards the corner he pointed to, seeing a stack of novels and art supplies before he continued, "Came here a few weeks ago. Know you like those books and shit but didn't know what to grab."

I smiled to myself as I crouched down, looking at the other novels and the various pencils with sketching paper that looked untouched. I picked up a few of the books as I scanned through them, seeing that they were classics by Jane Austen and J.D. Salinger. I looked at the bottom of the pile, picking up a book I hadn't read in years and my breath caught my throat.

"I used to read this book every night before bed," I mumbled as I ran my hand over the dusty cover to reveal the title of 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott, "I didn't know if I'd ever find it again."

"Good thing I got ya here then," he muttered from the bed and I looked up to see him nervously chewing the inside of his cheek. His eyes met mine as I gave him a thankful smile and his mouth twitched into the smallest smile I'd ever seen.

I dropped the book on the floor and looked at the art supplies, seeing a whole pencil case of colouring pencils along with some watercolour paints and paint brushes. As I sifted through the art supplies, I noticed there was a drawing on the ground of a small bird. I picked it up, admiring the work of the artist who was here before me. I placed it back where it was before looking over at the man on the bed to see him chewing the corner of his mouth nervously as he looked at me. I shot up from my spot where I was crouched down and bolted over to him, tackling him into the bed with a hug as he let out a grunt from the impact.

I wrapped my hands around his shoulders as I buried my head into his neck and after tensing for a long while, he relaxed and wrapped his arms around my back as I mumbled, "Thank you, Daryl."

"It's just some books and pencils, blondie." he muttered back, trying to brush off the caring gesture he had made. I pulled my head back to look at his face properly as I shook my head.

"It's more than that and you know it," I whispered with a smile, placing a kiss on his cheek. I didn't miss the way his eyes widened and he tensed ever so slightly but didn't make any effort to push me off. I pulled back to study his reaction only to find surprise and uncertainty with a hint of something unknown in his eyes. My eyes darted from his blue irises to his lips which were parted like he was going to say something, but nothing ever left his lips. Instead of probing him further, I nuzzled my head back into his neck as his breathing slowed and I let myself relax into him, feeling safe for the first time in years.

[nailamoonsi]

Another Sky OCs' art dump #002

Sketch dump 2! Only 7 this time... I was gonna wait till I did at least two more but decided against it 'cause I'm impatient.

Only a tiny bit of blood this time.

the truth is, you have no hero anywhere across the wretched planet.

alejandro altaha looking up at a hologram screen featuring his rival, antonio chandrani-rivera.

There they are--the princely two and the troublesome savior among the people. (Blood tw.)

triplet brothers raj, fernando and antonio chandrani-rivera! inspired by a single line fernando says to antonio, as well as antonio's overall stress and mentality around fernando.

was it so long ago?

leo and khaleel, who are childhood friends.

they're the last two of the main 6 ocs (layla, antonio, alejandro, alia, khaleel and leo), so it was exciting to finally draw them!

for only a little while... right?

the dads ranvir chandrani and armando rivera. this is when they're 18 or 19 and based on a scene in the currently unreleased book 1 (though it is complete). will clean up this sketch further eventually.

the silver brother and the eldest--the one they say is doing just fine.

raj chandrani, the technically eldest brother among the chandrani triplets.

POV: antonio chandrani, 14, cannot read (love tells)

antonio chandrani-rivera at 14 thinking about his boy best friends alejandro altaha, kiran anand and rayan ahmad... he is canonically gay.

this is based on a storyline in book 2, which is still in the works and definitely not released yet. antonio definitely has love troubles in book 1, i didn't want the first art i ever did of leo and khaleel to involve antonio's love troubles.

UNFORTUNATELY AMONG THE FIVE OF US, THERE IS A SAVIOR OF HUMANKIND.

the five main female (and nby) characters, with layla at the center. konna and alia are to the right of her while khalida and maria are to the right of her.

this is based on a storyline in book 1 with the theme of "savior."

will be uploading most of them on their own too, but i like doing a sketch dump batch.

[j4keluver]

7 acts of love

heeseung knows you’re not a committed gamer like he is. ( “babe just one more round, i’ll sleep at 4:00 am, promise !” hee) he has multiple leauge accounts but one is specifically for you to play on. he keeps a steady ranking for you and teaches you one on one on that account without the pressure of competition. the only thing is that you can’t change the username since he’s the only one with the controls. guess you’re stuck with ‘donttouchmemybfcanfight’

believe it or not, jay is a journal fanatic. his multiple journals go from jotting grocery list to his most personal thoughts but there is a special journal that he keeps away from the eyes of anybody. it's a simple white journal with a polaroid of you taped to the top that is filled to the brim of song lyrics based on jay's fondness to you. there are little, wonky doodles of you on every page and he uses a photobooth strip of the both of you as a book mark. call him corny but god, this man loves you. who knows, this song might end up at your wedding?

jake never leaves the house without giving you a little smoochy, even when he leaves for early morning practice. in his words, 'your lips are just so addicting. i can never get enough.' (corny) when you're awake, he’ll always give you a kiss on the lips, dragging it longer than he needs to (“ you’re gonna be late-“ you “ i don’t care” *kiss* jake) when you’re asleep, it’ll be the lightest peck on the cheek or forehead. you’ll most likely still be sleeping until layla decides she wants some kisses too.

sunghoon isn’t the best with words when expressing his love for you and he knows that. he’s gotten better over the years but he’s still timid at times, feeling tounge tied at the thought of speaking up. you often fall asleep next to each other, you drifting off the sleep first. he'll turn to you, eyes turning into crescents, pure adoration flowing. he will slowly lift his hand to caress your check, so softly that it won't disturb. you with his touch being as gentle as a feather, he’ll whisper, “i love you”

the amount of photos sunoo has in his camera roll is actually insane. he takes an ungodly amount of photos of you. he doesn't delete any of them because he thinks you looks breathtaking in every picture. unless you really hate the picture and bribe with a kiss. even with that, only a select one or two get deleted. the pictures range from your date outings, you washing the dishes, to taking off your makeup. he’s run out of storage many times but refuses to delete your pictures and ends up buying more icloud.

with his spare time, jungwon can never doubt a good book. you also enjoying your selected books, you and him often wind down with some books you bought on a date. you were always used to scribbling your thoughts down on the side but your eyebrow corked when you see jungwon jotting down notes. “what are you doing?” you ask as you lean over to look. he closes the book and smiles, “nothing.” you shrug it off as jungwon continues to write how beautiful you look in this moment, attention long gone from the book. (she’s so beautiful oh me gee, hopefully she never opens this book, HER SMILE)

riki has artistic talent in a lot of aspects of his life. he becomes one with music when he dances, feeling every beat exude through his veins. his voice flows like smooth honey with lyrics. his art pieces blend in beautiful harmony to create an artwork even picasso would be proud of. he sketches you more than he would like to every admit. during class, lunch breaks, at night when he can’t sleep; he can’t help it. he knows your features like the back of his hand. every dimple, crease, texture, rosiness to your face, he never misses a detail.

[faiirytalcs]

closed: layla holms & marinette dupain-cheng ( @x-marinettedc ) location: evermore park

One of Layla's favorite things to do when the kids left school was walk through the park a few times before heading home and this time, she decided to take a short rest at one of the tables, sitting at the end of one that was already occupied. She hadn't meant to disturb the woman sitting there but when her eyes fell to the sketch book, she immediately thought about summers in Paris. She had to say something. "Are you a designer by any chance? I hope you don't mind me asking, it's been a while since I've seen sketches like those."

[womanofwords]

STEM Kids Shenanigans (Chapter 17)

Chapter 17: Paint

Yujin was hiding in a toilet cubicle. Not how she was expecting to spend her morning break. Sure, being popular was nice, but this much was overwhelming. She literally got crowd surfed down the hallway over the accidental slime incident with Melanie!

So here she was, hiding desperately in the stench of the school toilets and hoping that nobody figured out that it was her from the way that she breathed or something trivial like that.

"Yujin, get out of there," a girl's voice said. Shoot! The gig was up, and she would have to face the mob. The mob of adoring fans, admittedly, but a mob nonetheless. Yujin came out and faced . . . Layla. How had she not recognized Layla's voice?

"How did you know I was in there?" Yujin asked.

"You were monologuing out loud," Layla said.

"Dammit," Yujin cursed, blushing.

"Enough about that. Why the hell are you hiding in a toilet cubicle?"

"I don't want to be ambushed by crowds of people. It's nice, but overwhelming."

"Ah. Social anxiety?"

"Yep."

"Then I'm staying here with you."

Yujin's eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm staying here with you."

"Really?" Yujin smiled uneasily. "What if it . . . conflicts with your plans?"

Layla scoffed. "I don't have any plans. So I guess we're staying here until the bell goes."

Yujin hugged her. "Thank you," she whispered.

Layla nodded. "Sure."

(PAUSE)

"I see the troublemakers are walking together," Melanie loudly remarked, as Layla and Yujin walked into art together.

"I see you managed to wash all the orange slime out of your hair," Layla retorted.

"Don't talk to me like that," Melanie hissed.

"Don't call us troublemakers then," Layla said. "Manners are free, you know." Yujin was awestruck as Layla took her to her seat and sat her down. "I may have told Melanie that manners are free, but so is rudeness. And I am a fan of both."

"Me too," Yujin admitted.

(PAUSE)

Yujin was walking to the library to check out a book when she saw Melanie berating Angelo. "Honestly, I think the fame is going to your head, Riva," she snapped. "You're showing absolutely no respect to anybody that deserves it."

"I am literally just sitting here," Angelo said.

"Ha! You don't even care to ask what you did wrong!" Melanie snapped.

"I don't even care any more. It's probably something exaggerated, like with everything else you get people in trouble for."

"I don't get anybody into any more trouble than they deserve!" Melanie looked Angelo up and down with a smirk. "And from the looks of things, I thin you could do with some time litter picking."

"Leave him alone!" Yujin snapped.

Melanie rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's you. Why do you keep cropping up everywhere?"

"Why do you keep seeking us out?" Yujin countered. "You hate us, but you're near us all the time."

"I have to monitor troublemakers."

"But you only monitor us. You don't burst into any other club meetings."

"You're the only ones that are really suspicious." Melanie laughed nervously. "Who knows what you four do in there?"

"You should know. You break in so much it's like you're our least favourite member."

Melanie's jaw dropped. She had dealt with rude people before, but nobody had ever spoken to her in such a blatantly disrespectful manner. "I - you - ugh!" She stormed off, and Angelo breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank you," he said, smiling at her.

"Don't mention it," Yujin said, her heart racing. She was seriously developing a crush on this boy! This nerdy boy that took care of his sister and baked cookies for them and invented things for his little sister. "Hey, when't the next time that we can come over and hang out at your house?"

"Not for two weeks. I'm grounded. My parents were told about the hoverboard and I got grounded. It was going to be two months, but the teacher sounded so proud and I showed them that I had loads of safety precautions in place so I wouldn't get hurt. No workshop, no toolbox, no notebook."

Yujin's jaw dropped. "They took your notebook?"

"I sketch ideas for inventions in there. They are thorough about grounding me."

"Right. No meetings at your house until you're not grounded any more. We'll have to meet at school."

"With Melanie," Angelo groaned. "I just want to invent things in peace. Why is she making us answer to her?"

"So she can be powerful," Yujin said. "There's never any other reason than for her to be powerful. That's why she does anything."

Angelo looked thoughtful and grinned. "I wonder if we can do something about that."

(PAUSE)

Layla, Angelo, Dante and Yujin gathered at lunch the next day in a disused art room (deliberately nothing like their usual room to evade Melanie) and discussed ideas.

"This is . . . not the best," Layla said, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the smell of dust and mildew in the air.

"I know, but we have to have somewhere to talk that isn't our usual room and isn't my house," Angelo said.

"Sorry to hear about you being grounded," Dante said, fiddling with his hair.

"Not your fault. We need to be focusing on taking Melanie down a peg," Angelo said. "What can we do?"

"We should have just reported her ages ago," Dante said. In the distance, they heard screaming and cheering. "Is a fight going on or something?"

"Let's find out," Yujin said. The four went to the nearest window and saw chaos.

People were throwing what looked like paint at each other. The hallways were painted in shades of pink, red, orange, blue, yellow, green and purple. Then, as one, everyone picked one person, who looked like a speck from how high up the four were, and targeted them.

"I feel sorry for whoever everyone's throwing stuff at," Angelo said. "Let's go downstairs and see who it is."

"NO!" everyone yelled. Dante and Layla pulled him back.

"You are the smartest idiot I have ever known," Layla sighed. "You're like the stupid people in horror movies that investigate the noise in the basement. We'll just watch from here, where it's safe."

"This is amazing," Dante said. "Maybe this can end up in the Marbleton Messenger."

"Like we did," Angelo said.

The four settled into a comfortable silence while chaos ruled underneath their feet.

(PAUSE)

When the four friends went to afternoon registration, almost everyone they saw was covered in paint. Paint on their arms, legs, faces, in their hair. They looked pristine in comparison.

"Dear God, what happened to you all?" Mr Oluwatola asked.

"There was a massive paint fight," Marty said, who had purple and green smears on his face like war paint. "It was insane."

"You know what else will be insane? Cleaning the whole school!" Mr Oluwatola said. "Not to mention that poor student that was ambushed by everybody sharing a collective idea to target them!"

"Which student?" Angelo asked.

"Melanie Sainsbury," everyone chorused, giggling.

"Speaking of which, where is she?" Mr Oluwatola asked.

"Maybe she went home," Layla suggested.

"Hopefully!" Yujin blurted out.

And that was when Melanie came in, dripping with paint.

"Not a word, nitwits," she growled, as she took her seat. A loud squelch was heard as she lowered herself onto it. Angelo's jaw had dropped.

"I have never seen that much paint on a person before," he whispered to Yujin.

"Me neither," Yujin whispered back.

"Yujin Moon, Angelo Riva, I would appreciate some quiet as I try to process this incredibly stupid situation," Mr Oluwatola said. A few people giggled, and they both turned red.

"Aww, you look so cute," Dante teased. Angelo swore under his breath.

"Shut up," Yujin snapped.

(PAUSE)

Even her dad noticed the crush she was developing on the Italian. "So, that boy with the curly hair seems nice," he said, as they walked to the car.

"Appa!" Yujin hissed.

"He can't hear you," he dismissed. "He is very polite and nice. Plays well with his little sister."

And he bakes cookies and knows how to sew and he's cute, Yujin thought, smiling as she got into the front passenger seat. Angelo Riva is a serious catch.

Korean translation

Appa: Dad

To read the other parts of this fic, see Masterlist.

[kragggon]

" Okay! So! I was lucky enough yesterday to actually get myself into the Phonan Zoo and finally do a proper entry on these guys!

Behold!! The Wendigo! These guys are so cool but I'm getting ahead of myself.

Okay okay so, the Wendigo are a species of Amorphous Arcfauna that live in the far FAAR north of Phona, way up in the mountains and the slim as hell trees that are there.

They are these Semi-transparent oozes that take the vague shape of a humanoid looking figure, and they are massive -- They can easily get well over 20' ft if they stretch themselves to the maximum. But they're usually just about 12'5'' ft.

Now don't get too concerned, they are actually super peaceful guys, hell I even managed to feed one back at the Zoo (His name is Wen and he's absolutely adorable) And that is honestly because well -- They just don't eat people at all. Well Living ones anyway. They are the ultimate scavengers really, they are just these massive blobs that crawl across the tundra munching on any bone and mushrooms and whatever else that nature left for them.

Hell they are actually way more afraid of us than we are of them, half the time when you encounter one of these guys in the wild they are way more likely to just goop their way outta there.

BUT, don't corner them.

No seriously don't, you'll probably die. Wendigos don't really like to keep sharp things inside their bodies, so they instead keep that kind of stuff outside of their bodies, which means a lot of sharp teeth and claws at the end of their stalks to swing at people.

But to be fair, you'd have to be pretty empty in the head to not notice them, chances are you'll probably smell them before you see them, and even if you don't, trust me -- They'll notice you way quicker than you will to them. They have a sharp sense of smell, so unless you're going against the wind, you'll probably hard pressed to meet them.

I actually had the pleasure to ask a Telmeshian Human about these guys, since apperently they are way more common in the northlands than the south here. But from what I understand, the Telmeshians believe that the Wendigo were cursed men that ate the flesh of their comrades. As punishment -- Zhouthrax, God of Mortals decided to curse them with having no legs, no arms, and to forever wear the skull of those who they ate.

Its a pretty rad story. It's also a bit fascinating to hear Telmeshian folklore of such gentle creatures -- Because despite their supposed gruesome origins, they actually treat them very well up there. Giving them food, taking care of their young and even keeping a couple of them as pets. ( Which is apperently really not recommended if you ask any biologist, but I won't lie after taking care a bit of Wen I kinda want to see if I can get one. )

I asked on why they treated them so well despite the story wording them like monsters. And he kinda just shrugged at me and went:

" Well, those people were forced to make a choice that would keep them alive. Fate wasn't kind to them, and the Woodsie Lord was uncompromising in his judgment. The least we can do is at least give them a little bit more comfort for a crime none of them wanted to commit. "

It's kinda heart-warming really. But I dunno if I would eat the flesh of anyone even if I was stuck in a frozen tundra. Then again, I can't judge too much, Telmeshian culture is way different than what we got here in Phona.

[sallteas]

some cooldown sketches of layla from the dark element series by jennifer l. armentrout!

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

Ohhhhh

I almost had to have a second suitcase JUST for my stuffed animals as a kid

Always had to bring my own pillow (altho everyone in my family does this)

Only my most comfortable clothes

oh....OH..........I tend to overpack for trips bc when I was a child being autistic & having no control over my environment meant that if I didn't pack enough reading material/the right items for my constantly-changing sensory needs, I would spend the duration of family vacation in traumatizing discomfort. holy shit my therapist will be hearing about this

[80pairsofcrocs]

baby scarab || 26

anon - What if reader got a pet like a baby duck, maybe one baby duck lost his momma and just started following her when she was heading home from work and she just decided okay you’re coming home with me

~~~

@spideyscottage - what if baby scarab meets taweret and she mentions something about baby scarab’s biological parents

~~~

anon - hello! i am really loving your baby scarab series! and if you’re still accepting requests for the series, I was wondering if for your next future chapter it could be funny?? If that’s alright with you? I was wondering if the reader starts talking in a British accent and the moon buys are just like “wtf?” But the reader doesn’t notice until the boys mention it and then just tells them casually like “oh it’s because I hang around Steven to much” You can ignore this if it’s not a good idea and if it is not in the direction that you want your next chapter to go but i’d love to see it! <3

~~~

A/N : this chapter is going to be all over the place. bear with me :)

masterlist - marvel masterlist - series masterlist

A/N : oh yeah. its taweret time {ALSO THANKS TO @badgerdryad FOR THE VINE IDEA}

please enjoy, and don't be shy if you want to be in the taglist, just ask <3, sorry for the long wait

pairings : steven grant x (platonic)reader, marc spector x (platonic) reader, khonshu x (platonic)reader, jake lockley x (platonic)reader, layla el faouly x (platonic)reader

TW : medicine (pills), language, spidey stuff, marc being marc, mentions of violence, making fun of steven(?). let me know if i missed anything

~~~

you really didn’t think marc would let you go to work.

but, here you are. he walked you there of course, and expressed that he was still mad at the fact that you deliberately disobeyed him- and he didn’t let you out of his sight until he very hesitantly left you at the cafe.

he understood- they all understood why you left to stop a robbery. they would have done the same.

though they are adults and can literally do pretty much whatever they want, they would’ve done the same.

thinking realistically, they wouldn’t care as much about your safety since they know damn well you can take care of yourself perfectly fine.

but ever since the incident they didn’t want to take any chances.

marc especially.

he’s lost so much in his life, and he couldn’t live with himself if he lost you too.

you’re broken from your thoughts when the bell rings, signaling another customer.

you were surprised to see a familiar face.

“hey, stranger” she greets, leaning on the counter.

“how’re you doing, evie?” you smile back, and notice a new pin on her backpack she always carried around.

a couple things you learned about her- she makes sure to always carry a sketch book and pens with her.

she claimed it was in case she came across some animals or something and wanted to sketch them to remember them.

“i’m doing alright” she sighs. “can i get my usual to go?” she asks politely and you nod, getting to work.

evie’s usual was a strawberry frappe. it suited her honestly, plus it matched the new pin you noticed, which happened to be an enamel frog with a strawberry hat.

you smile to yourself and pop a lid on the finished drink, sliding it over to evie and handing her a straw.

“that’ll be 4.28” you say, and she gives you the appropriate money, while you give her the appropriate change in return.

“have a nice day, evie” you wave as she starts walking backwards towards the door.

“you too, y/n” she smiles, and just like that she’s already gone.

you sigh and wait for almost ten minutes for the lunch rush to start, that taking a lot out of you.

it was very busy today- it being summer so all the tourists were in town.

you just lean your chin on your fist, waiting for the rush to start.

~~~

it was just the average day at work, some of your usuals came in and you made small talk with them before they left.

now you were getting ready to leave.

early. and you didn’t tell anyone that you got off work early.

you wanted to show marc that you could walk to and from work by yourself just fine.

so that’s what you’re going to do.

you switch positions with one of the other baristas, her waving to you as you pick up your light weight jacket and head out the door, you waving back.

as soon as you step out, you feel more like yourself.

it was normal for you to be doing things alone all these years. you were grateful for the guys wanting to make sure you were safe of course, but sometimes it was a bit much.

you were already about a quarter of the way home, when you feel something hit your ankle, making you stop.

you look down and see a small duck, and it was looking up at you.

you look around to make sure you weren’t going to be in anyones way, and then you crouch down next to it, slowly to not scare it away.

you’d never been approached by a duck before, especially on the sidewalk, where the pond is about five minutes away.

you tilt your head at the small creature, and it makes a noise at you.

you smile at it and reach a careful hand out, and it almost immediately bumps it’s beak into it.

you chuckle softly and stand back up, making the duck confused.

“go back home, your moms probably looking for you” you tell it as if it understands what you’re saying.

it just makes another noise as you begin to walk away.

you turn a corner after a minute when you feel the same duck ram into your ankle again.

‘it’s probably because i spilled strawberry syrup on myself’ you nod to yourself.

yes, you’re not perfect. you may have spilled a little bit of strawberry syrup on your shirt, leaving a light purple stain.

it’ll wash out, of course, but you’re pretty sure that the duck can smell it.

you bend down to let the duck touch your hand again before sighing.

you could either let it follow you home, try to leave him here to possibly get ran over by a car, or carry it home, feed it and bring it back to the pond.

you picked the obvious choice and gently let the top of the ducks head, and it closed it’s eyes for a second.

“you want to come home with me?” you ask it, getting no clear answer as it keeps rubbing against you.

you purse your lips and unfold your jacket from your arm, carefully bringing it around the duck, so that if it didn’t want to be picked up it could leave.

it didn’t, in fact when you did pick it up carefully, it made another noise and snuggled it’s small head into your shirt.

you smile at the duck, cuddling it to your chest and beginning your walk home again.

the duck was surprisingly calm, letting you carry it around. you happily ignored the stares you got from people passing you on the sidewalk.

i mean, who wouldn’t stare at a girl smiling to herself while carrying a duck around in her coat?

you did eventually get to the apartment complex, getting even more weird looks from people in the lobby as you got into the elevator.

you clicked your floors button and think about if marc is going to lose his shit when you get home.

and by home i mean his flat. since he refuses to let you go to your own place by yourself.

well, both of the apartments are homes to you, it’s just been.. off since the incident.

you purse your lips, getting off the elevator once it dings, and slowly making your way to steven, marc, and jakes door.

you dig into your pocket for the key, trying your hardest to stay quiet but fail as the lock clicks rather loudly.

you curse to yourself and readjust the duck in your arms, opening the door and covering most of the ducks face with your jacket so whoever was fronting couldn’t see it right away.

you quietly close the door after taking the key out and locking it, hearing footsteps coming from the kitchen.

you could tell it was steven by the surprised look on his face and by his posture.

“y/n? you didn’t tell us you were leaving early” he starts, coming closer to you.

“marc would’ve-“

“yeah, i know but i can walk home myself” you shrug and right at that moment, the duck under your coat decides to quack.

steven makes a face and looks down to the bundled coat in your arms.

“did your coat just quack?” he asks, pointing to it as you shake your head.

“no you’re just hearing things” you start. “you know, because you’re old” you shrug again and steven gives you a look.

“i’m not that old” he sighs, looking back to your coat.

“let me see what’s in your coat” he says, crossing his arms.

“there’s nothing in it” you say back and he tilts his head at you.

“there’s not?” he hums and you continue nodding.

“so if i..” he trails off, poking the jacket lightly, making the duck inside of it quack again.

steven takes a breath and runs a hand through his hair, you looking up at him nervously.

“y/n”

“it followed me” you blurt out. “i just wanted to feed it and then drop it off at the pond” you elaborate and steven chuckles.

“are you sure you didn’t just want a pet? i mean, you have been hinting at that for a little while” he says and you wince.

it was true. you’d been subtly hinting that you wanted a pet. like a cat or a dog or something.

they all caught on of course, and subtly told you that having a pet right now wasn’t the best time.

but it still didn’t stop you from trying to convince them.

steven looks back at you and smiles. “let me see it, then” he says gently and you slowly bring the jacket off the ducks face.

it looks at steven and then back at you.

“he’s a handsome little bugger, isn’t he?” he chuckles, and you smile.

“how do you know it’s a ‘he’?” you ask, and steven reaches a hand out towards the duck.

“the grey feathers around his eyes, females don’t have those” he says and you snort.

“nerd” you mutter and steven scoffs.

“he followed me because i smell like strawberries” you tell steven and he shakes his head.

“he’s not staying the night, we’re taking him back before dinner” you hear marc finally speak.

you didn’t know if he was mad that you didn’t call, you’re just hoping he’d let it go.

“why not?” you ask with a pout present on your face.

“because he has a family” steven cuts in, and you glare at him while he walks to the fridge.

“but i can be his new family” you argue and steven pulls out a small bowl of strawberries.

“you can’t just bring a duck here and declare it to be your family” steven says back, cutting up some of the strawberries as you walk to stand across the counter from him, the duck interested in the food.

“hypocrite” you state, getting a look from steven.

“that’s not the same” he tells you and you pet the duck while you think of what to say.

“it kind of is”

“yeah, kind of. but not really” he shrugs, pushing the plate of cut up strawberries towards you so that you could feed the duck.

you let the little guy loose on the counter, where he immediately starts eating the red fruit, making you smile.

“i still don’t understand why i can’t get a pet” you pipe up, and steven gives you a sad smile.

“it’s bad timing, and i think we need to focus on more important things” marc interrupts, and you turn to make your sad face at him.

“don’t do that” he says and you switch to a quick glare.

“what about jake? he’s been quiet” you say and you hear a groan from marc.

“because his opinion doesn’t matter” marc answers.

“yes it does, puta”

it gets quiet for a second. “i sadly agree with the worm and the other guy” jake says and you make a face, going to pet the duck again.

“though she does have a point about you being a hypocrite” jake says again, and you smugly smiles at steven.

“see?” you pause. “i’m always right” you say, scoffing to yourself while the duck stops eating to waddle around on the counter.

you and steven both watch him walk around, before he sits down and closes his eyes after ruffling his feathers.

you sigh again and look at marc, who was in the reflection of the metal knife steven was using to cut the strawberries.

“i’m sorry i didn’t call” you whisper to him and he purses his lips.

“you know what?” he starts. “it’s perfectly fine” he says and you stand surprised.

that’s not what you expected to say at all.

“i know i’ve been a bit much lately. i know you can take care of yourself” he tells you, and you respond with a small smile.

“i get it.” you pause. “i’m scared of losing you guys too” you say quietly and all three of them look to you.

after you said that, they realized how dumb they were. they didn’t even take your feelings into consideration while all they were thinking of was protecting you.

they didn’t think about the fact that they go out on missions while you sit at home by yourself, praying that they’ll all come home safe.

they all feel pretty stupid right about now.

well, that’s men for you.

“okay kid, i’ll stop being-“

“clingy?”

“..sure. and i speak for all of us when i say that i’m sorry” he says and you furrow your brows.

“we know you can handle yourself just fine, but we didn’t even think about if you worried about us too” marc finishes, and you nod.

you didn’t say anything, and neither did anyone else, you just stared ahead, focusing on the sound of the duck beside you breathing.

“it’s just.. you said you’d try to make it so that nothing happened” you said referring to the incident.

marc noticed you rubbing your hand over the arm where the scars were, which made him feel worse.

“i know what i said. i just.. we just couldn’t stop worrying about if something could happen” marc tells you and you nod once.

“you know you don’t have to worry about me” you state, all three of them nodding.

“enough of this, you had a surprise for the pequeña dama, didn’t you?” jake cuts in, interrupting the tense atmosphere.

you furrow your eyebrows as steven smiles excitedly at you. “how would you feel about going to layla’s for supper?” he asks, and you grin.

“i’d love that, i like her more than you guys anyways” you fake yawn and look away from steven and any reflective surfaces.

“yeah, love you too, y/n” steven starts. “listen, we aren’t going to be there long, because i know you’ve been staying up late- and you need sleep” 

you scoff. “again with the hypocrisy” you mutter.

“hey, cut it out with the attitude” steven starts. “now, you’ve fed your duck, now let’s go walk him back to the pond before we go” he says and you groan, waking the duck.

“i wanna keep him” you say. “i was going to name him howard and i was gonna buy him a hat” you whine, but steven comes over to put a hand on your shoulder.

“well, maybe in time you can get an even better pet. and you can buy it a hat then” steven starts.

“but for now, we have to return the duck back to its family” he says sadly and you nod, picking up the duck in your coat again.

you notice a switch, and you know exactly who it is when he snatched his hat off the back of one of the chairs nearby.

“do you have everything you need?” jake asks you and you nod, yanking the clip on tie off the collar of your shirt and leaving it on the counter.

“aw, no tie?” he teases and you scoff, unlocking the door once you get to it, and leaving jake behind to catch up.

you feel sad about not being able to keep the duck. but you knew that the right thing to do was take it back to the pond so he could.. be a duck.

jake caught up to you, locking the door as you consistently press the close door button in the elevator, jake having slid in right at the last second.

“nice try” he says and you roll your eyes, the elevator dinging while you get off.

you and jake walk side by side, the pond not being too far away which means you’re already approaching it without too much of a walk.

you two eventually get to the muddy edges of the pond, to which you put the duck down and watch it stare up at you.

“i’m sorry. we’re together in another life, howard” you say dramatically, and the duck turns to hop in the water, other ducks floating around in the middle.

you watch solemnly as howard swims towards the other ones before turning around to leave, jake being confused that you didn’t try to jump in to get him back.

it just seemed like a thing you’d do.

“sorry for your loss” jake says once you guys get back on the sidewalk to go to the car.

“he will be remembered” you respond, both of you sharing a laugh.

 the walk to the car was silent, but it was a comfortable silence. well, excusing the cars driving by and people talking when they passed you.

when you two got to the car, marc was the one to start it, claiming to be the better driver.

you put your seatbelt on as marc pulls out of the parking at the side of the road, driving in the direction of laylas place.

you set your jacket on the ground and put your feet on the dashboard, slouching in your seat.

“hey, get your feet off that” marc tells you so you do so, leaning your elbow on the mid console, drumming your fingers on it.

you close your eyes and listen to the engine of the car, or anything else outside that any normal person wouldn’t hear.

you’re broken from that when the car stops and marc lets out a breath.

“traffic?” you mutter, marc nodding.

“don’t sound too disappointed” marc says sarcastically.

you look around and see an angry looking man staring at you two from the car next to you, to which you glare back.

“he looks like his face was molested by a penguin” you say in an over exaggerated british accent.

marc looks at you in confusion, and then back to the road when the cars start moving again.

another car passes you guys and to that, you mutter “fucking wank stain”, still using the accent.

“are you mocking me?” steven asks you from the rear view mirror and you shake your head with a smile.

“you know, people are dying of starvation all over the planet” you start, marc stopping the car once he gets stuck behind more traffic.

“like africa, asia..” you trail off, then moving both your hands to flip off all the cars in front of you.

“the fucking m-25” you grit out, accent still being used.

“can you calm down?” marc asks you and you chuckle, making him confused again.

“you know, people think that all british people do is drink tea and eat crumpets and talk about harry potter all day, but that’s not true” you say, and steven gives you a look from the mirror again.

“we sit in fucking traffic! going 2 miles an hour!” you exclaim, trying to hold in your laughter.

“okay- what’s going on?” marc asks you, the traffic finally moving forwards.

“why are you using an accent?” he asks again.

“oh, i’ve just been around steven too much” you wave him off, leaning back in your seat.

“are we there yet?” you ask and marc shakes his head.

a minute later.

“what about now?” another head shake.

two minutes later.

“are we-“

“i’m going to throw you out of this car” marc threatens and you chuckle.

~~~

a half hour later.

you didn’t say much the rest of the drive, neither did any of the guys, but you had your ‘tic tac’ to keep you busy.

you were actually excited to see layla again. especially at her place, you always wondered how she had it decorated.

you wondered if she had any cool plants, or if she was an artist, or maybe even enjoyed baking as much as steven did.

marc pulls the car into a parking space beside a small house.

the houses on this road were close, maybe about ten feet apart from each other.

marc stopped the car, taking the keys out and looking to you. “you ready?” he asks and you nod, both of you getting out of the car.

you two walk up the steps and he knocks on the door, you hearing footsteps coming from inside.

the door clicks, and layla peaks her head out, smiling when she sees your familiar faces.

“hey guys, come in” she opens the door wider and you both step in, and you’re overtaken by the smell of cinnamon.

“how’ve you been?” layla asks you, putting an arm around your shoulder, you turning behind you to give a smug look to marc.

you look back to layla. “i’ve been good.” you nod, and marc comes up to the other side of layla.

“and you?” he asks her, and she smiles at him. 

“better now that you’re here” she responds to him in a quieter voice, taking her hand off you to stick it in her pocket.

you snort, earning the attention of both the adults. 

“hey, you don’t get the right to laugh after i caught you almost kissing that boy a couple weeks ago” marc says and you glare at him, layla gasping dramatically.

“you interrupted it?” layla asks marc and he nods. “well technically jake did but-“

“come on, she’s young and in love, let her do what she wants” you raise an eyebrow at that.

“i’m not- it’s not love i don’t even know if he likes me like that” you mumble, kicking the ground as layla nods.

“jake only interrupted because he doesn’t want you to get your feelings hurt” marc tells you and you scoff.

“he won’t. but if he does i’ll just kick him in the shins” you shrug, layla chuckling.

“that’s my girl” marc smiles.

~~~

it was a simple dinner, really.

turns out, layla is an amazing cook and you now want to replace steven with her.

you’re kidding, but if you could always have both of them at the same time it’d be heaven.

layla is also starting to learn more about egyptian culture, and the gods.

she also told you that she wants to take you on a trip to cairo, claiming that they have amazing food there.

you obviously are in love with that idea, so you took her up on the offer, planning to leave marc behind.

that was also a joke. 

you all played uno again. multiple times.

you won every time of course, because you’re just that good.

no money was beg this time though, due to marc being a weenie and being too scared to lose more money to a child.

it was already getting kind of late, and now you were all just idly talking in laylas living room, the source of the cinnamon being a candle that was lit on the coffee table.

you were sat in between marc and the side of the couch, layla on the other side of him.

you were staring at the candle flickering when you sense something behind you, so you look behind you in surprise.

it was the hippo again- taweret.

“hey, you good?” marc asks, not being able to see the goddess.

you nod, seeing the hippo wave to you, smiling.

you wave back and that’s when marc gets confused. “taweret.” you say and he understands.

“khonshus been talking about you” taweret tells you and you furrow your brows.

“what’s she saying?” marc asks, and taweret giggles.

“i guess i should show myself so that they can understand” she moves from behind you to in front of all three of you, then now seeing her too.

“like i was saying, khonshu talks about you quite a lot, young y/l/n” the hippo states and you still have confusion written on your face.

“he was right about your eyes as well, just like your mother” she gushes and you gasp softly, marc and layla listening intently.

“wait wait wait- did you know her?” you ask and taweret nods.

“i helped her into the field of reeds” she confirms and you nod, pursing your lips.

“lovely woman, she was. unlike the man she married” she mutters the last part under her breath.

you didn’t say anything at first, while marc and layla look at you to make sure you’re okay.

“why’d she marry him?” you shake your head, and your mouth felt dry.

“that man wasn’t always corrupted by ammit, they did love each other dearly” taweret shook her head and you nodded.

“was she happy?” you blurt out. “before he was.. corrupted?” you elaborate and taweret sends you a small smile.

“she was. she loved what she did and would never regret a thing she did in her life.” she pauses. “including sacrificing herself for you” she finishes quietly and you smile up at her.

“thank you” you say quietly and the hippo just laughs and nods once.

“oh, it’s no big deal” she waves you off and you look to layla and marc, who were holding hands and looking at you as well.

“you alright, kid?” marc asks and you nod.

“i just.. i needed to know if she was at least happy” you sigh and lean over so that your chin was now resting on marc’s shoulder.

marc chuckles as layla mimics the action, wrapping an arm around both of you. 

“this is nice” he states. “‘m here with my two favorite girls” he says and you sigh again, looking to where taweret and khonshu were now staring at the three of you in interest.

you ignored it and closed your eyes for a moment, just taking in the moment.

marc was genuinely happy at the moment.

everything was going great right now- well except for the fact that you threw a fit about not being able to keep a duck- but other than that it was great.

steven and jake were happy as well, they were all just glad to have both you and layla in their lives.

and of course, you were honored to be one of marc’s favorite girls.

to be honest, he couldn’t realy pick favorites between the two of you, since he loved you both in different ways.

layla being his girlfriend, and you being his surrogate daughter.

you just couldn’t get over that you were one of his favorite people in his life.

and the feeling was returned.

he was your favorite- they were all equally number one on the list, layla sharing that role as well.

you were their favorites, and they were all yours.

the love really just goes all around, doesn’t it?

it should.

because you’re all a family.

taglist ---

@alexloveskili @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression @thebiggestsimpshrimp @guyinachair27 @astrobuzzsstuff @mooonlight-and-stars @moonlighting87 @mateihavenoidea @inactive-things @alondrashultz @femalemarvelself @queenthorin1 @haileymorelikestupid @jvdethirlwall @justtiredandvibing @winterfrostsarmy @themapoftinyperfectthings @littlebird101 @atzlena @httpslinow @arrowurboat @m-brekker @lifeandbandmembers-blog @adamcarlsenslvr @violet-19999 @seninjakitey @bestgirlpip @panic-in-the-multiverse @in-between-the-cafes @branolagar @bl6o6dy @annoyingmarvelreader @bee-a-cool-kid @buzzitsbeee @wintergirlsoilder2 @crow-carcass @you-bloody-shank @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @magnificentcreatorpenguin @50shadesofcrocs @rayrlupin

[yikesitskennawrites]

Transitions- Chapter Two: Tea With The Neighbor

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Pairings: Steven Grant x (platonic) Reader, Marc Spector x (platonic) Reader, Jake Lockley x (platonic) Reader, Layla El-Faouly x (platonic) Reader

---

Whenever you were bored being cooped up in your flat, your mind wandered. You tried to stay away from reflecting on the past, on your old life and your dead parents, so you usually focused on thoughts of work and how to make extra cash without it being too sketchy. But, ever since the incident in the elevator with your neighbor, you got invested in the life of your odd neighbor. You imagined that he was a drug addict, and the familiarity of the D.A.R.E campaigns and the whole assemblies your high-school had for anti-drug use showed that these people had terrible lives and would do anything to get the drugs. So, with that background, you imagined that your strange neighbor lived in squalor. 

You thought that his apartment would be severely neglected and trashed, maybe infested with cockroaches. So, when your neighbor opened the door to his flat, you were a bit surprised when you saw the apartment wasn't exactly what you imagined it to be. It was messy, but it was an organized mess. Stacks of Egyptology books and notes were strewn across any surface that wasn't the floor. The dining table was cluttered on one end with more books and papers, a single spot was open for seating. In the center of the room was a huge fish tank, the bright illuminance caught your attention, a small orange fish swam in the center of the tank. Your neighbor held the door open for you as you entered his flat, and he shut it behind you. You walked the short distance to the tank and saw a single goldfish with two fins. 

“That’s Gus the Second,” your neighbor says in a British accent. You glance over your shoulder towards him, he was taking off his gray jacket and hanging it up on a hook near the door. Before he strode in your direction and stopped next to you, the two of you stared at the goldfish for a moment in silence before you ask, “What happened to the first?” 

“Went to the Field of Reeds I suppose,” he shrugs. 

“What?” 

“It's like heaven or hell or whatever. The afterlife of eternal peace.”

“Oh,” was all you said. You didn’t know much about your neighbor but he didn't strike you as a religious man. You walk towards the stacks of books on the table and bend down a bit to read the titles on the spine of the book. All of them were about Egyptian culture and history. The papers scattered across the surface of the table had neat handwriting. Briefly, your eyes scanned a page of notes about the god named Anubis. The god of death, on the right side of the page there was a well drawn sketch of the god, its head was of a dog and the rest of the body looked human. 

“You’re a historian?” you ask. Your neighbor crossed the room and looked down at the papers cluttered on his table.

“No, I just had an interest in the Egyptian gods,” he says, “I used to work in the gift shop at the museum downtown, but I got fired for breaking the toilets.” 

“You just had a bad trip?” 

“What?”

“I thought you were a drug addict but there's no sign of drug use. Did you just have a bad trip and break the toilets?” You ask, your neighbor stares at you in near disbelief before shaking his head. 

“You thought I did drugs?”

“Well, yeah. You were screaming your head off in the elevator a couple weeks ago.” You say, you place your hand on your hip as you wait for him to respond. He stares at you and you don't break eye contact. You add, “You also disappeared for a while, I saw you get carried out of your apartment in handcuffs. Did you go to rehab or something because I haven't seen you since.”

“Bloody hell,” he mumbles and lets out a disbelieving laugh. “The whole building must think I’m mental.” You shrug.

“You’d fit right at home in America.” You say as you squint at him, noticing for the first time today that he had a tan. He laughs at your statement, his hands clutching his head in embarrassment. You turn your head to your left and let your eyes wander his apartment before you felt satisfied enough that this wasn't a place that an addict lived. 

“I’ll make us some tea,” he says before walking to the small kitchen nook and turning on the sink faucet. He runs his hands underneath the water for a minute before scrubbing his face with his hands. You assumed he was washing the blood off of him before he was going to make some tea to help settle both of your nerves. 

“Feel free to take a seat.” He adds, you shrug off your jacket and place it on the back of the chair before sitting down. You cross your legs as you watch him snatch the kettle off of the stove top and fill it with water from the sink faucet before placing it back onto the stove. He reaches into his cupboard and pulls out a box of tea bags and places it down onto the counter. He then leans against the counter, crossing his arms and looks at you. You both stare at each other, this time his stares feel like he's observing you rather than thinking of what to say to fill the silence. 

For a moment, you thought that you insulted him with your questions and he's trying to not be too upset with it but as soon as the question began to form in your mind, he asked with an American accent this time, “Do you feel better?” You did feel better, you felt more like yourself then you did during your mugging, your hand still kind of stings though. You glance down at your fist and notice some bruises forming on your knuckles. 

“I do,” you say and trail your gaze back to him, the question was on the tip of your tongue but you had a more important thought form in your mind. Was the mugger dead? You didn't see him breathing but that was because your neighbor blocked your view. 

 “Did you kill him?” You ask quietly. Your heart pounded against your chest as you waited for his answer.

“No, just knocked him out.” He says, you hum. You suppose he wouldn't have confirmed that he killed the guy because that would make him a murderer and he wouldn’t want to make you more upset. You don’t want to be associated with a murderer, the police would arrest you and they might look more into the life you created. They might realize that you are a teenager from America with dead parents. Everything that you built for yourself over the past year would be all for nothing. 

“I’m sorry if I insulted you with my questions,” you say. He blinks and nods slowly. 

“All is forgiven,” he simply says. You wait a moment to see if he will add anything but nothing comes out of his mouth. You both silently wait for the other to speak. The silence didn't feel uncomfortable but you definitely felt a bit tense. You were sitting in your strange neighbors apartment, who happened to be at the right place and the right time to save you from the mugger, and who you never spoke to up until fifteen minutes ago. Your parents taught you to never go into strangers' homes or cars and yet here you were going against exactly that. Did you have a death wish or did you just not care anymore?

“What’s your name, kid?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You tell him your name and he introduces himself as Marc. It would have been nice to meet Marc underneath any other circumstance but unfortunately you didn’t have the opportunity for that. The kettle began to scream from the water being boiled and Marc turned his attention to that. He pours the liquid into two mugs and places one tea bag into each cup before carrying them to the table. 

“I don’t know how you like your tea,” he says with a British accent this time. His posture was slightly slouched and he looked more anxious than he was moments ago. You smile in thanks. You weren’t much of a tea drinker but you were raised to be respectful and kind to people who offered food that you didn't care for. Don’t be picky, your parents told you. Marc pushes some papers and books to the side, clearing a spot for him to sit down. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments as you blew on your mug to help it cool down faster. The silence seemed to stretch on as you played with the string of the tea bag. You wrapped it around your index finger as questions about Marc flooded your mind. 

Finally, after some brief hesitation you ask, “What's with the accent change?” He looked a little surprised at the question, his brown eyes were wide as he glanced from his drink to you. Your cheeks flushed as you rethought back to how you phrased the question, it did sound a bit rude didn’t it? 

“I’m sorry if I sounded rude,” you say, a sheepish smile beginning to spread across your face. “It’s just that I noticed that you speak with an American accent and a British one and I just was wondering why.” He sipped his tea which has steam still rising from it. You watched him quietly as his eyes went to the fishtank and he stared at it for a few moments. 

“I know that, Marc.” He says, you blink as he begins to have a conversation with himself. “Well, someone was bound to find out about it sooner or later.” 

Maybe you were right about the drugs, maybe he was using and this was the beginning of one of the drug trips. Your eyes shifted to the steaming tea that you have yet to drink. Did he put something in your drink while you were too busy with your own thoughts to notice? Your parents warned you not to take anything from strangers and yet, you accepted a cup of tea. His sigh and movement of him pinching his nose in your peripheral vision caught your attention. 

“I’m Steven Grant,” He says, he lifted his hand as a handshake and you hesitantly took it. His grip was loose and awkward, you thought that he would have a firmer handshake by the way that he carried himself but you were wrong. He lets go of your hand and shoots you a comforting smile, but you didn’t feel very comforted by it. You felt a bit anxious actually. 

“Not many people know this- just our wife, well ex-wife- I didn’t know I was married honestly,” He begins to ramble and you shift in your seat, your mind racing with excuses to tell him to get the hell out of his apartment. His face falters as he glares at the fish tank once more, was he glaring at the fish?

“I’m getting to it,” He says to the tank before taking a deep breath and continuing, “We have dissociative identity disorder and if you don’t mind we would like you to keep quiet about it. Y’know so, the whole bloody building doesn’t think we’re mental.” He looked nervous as he finished his statement. You knew a little about the disorder, mainly from YouTube recommendations of psychological disorders, but you were a bit educated on it. Honestly, this made a hell of a lot more sense about your strange neighbor and it comforted you a bit to have this knowledge about them. It made you feel a bit more comfortable knowing they weren’t under the influence of drugs. 

“Okay,” you say. He looked surprised at your calmness. You add, “I’m not going to tell anyone because it’s not my business to tell and besides I don’t have many friends. So, your secret is safe with me.” Steven looked a bit relieved and he let out a laugh. You ask, “So, when you talk to the fish tank you’re talking to Marc?” 

“Yeah, but it’s a reflective surface, really. Mirrors, hub caps, forks…” Steven trails off and you hum in response. He looks back to the tank and frowns, “Marc says that you look pretty young.”

“I should be flattered that you think I look younger than I actually am,” You joke. You felt way less anxious than you were moments ago. The switch between Steven and Marc was subtle. First the obvious was the accents, you were slowly realizing that Marc spoke with an American accent and Steven spoke in a British one. The second was the posture, Steven sat in a slouched position while Marc had a more straightened spine. And the third, was the expressions they wore on their face. Marc seemed more hardened while Steven was soft and kind of relaxed. Those were just three new things you noticed about your neighbor, you were nosey after all. 

"How old are you?" Marc asks, you unraveled the tea bag string from your finger and wrapped your hands around the mug instead. The metallic taste from biting your cheek earlier was still in your mouth and it didn’t taste pleasant. Marc and Steven trusted you enough to tell you their secret and they did beat up your mugger and saved you from anything else that could have happened. Maybe, you should return that trust and tell them your own secret. It would probably be smart to make sure someone else knew that you were a teenager anyways. 

"Papers say I'm eighteen." You say without looking at him. In your perhevial, you see him give you a hard look. You lift the cup to your lips and take a sip of the tea. It tasted like lemon and raspberries even with it stinging your tongue from the heat. You add, "I'm sixteen, turning seventeen this year." 

"Jesus, kid." Marc rubs his palm down his face. He was surprised that you were able to get away with acting like an adult for this long. He asks, "You've been living here for about six months, right?” You were a bit surprised that he noticed your existence over the last half of the year, you don’t think you told them about how long you’ve moved to London. 

"A year," You correct him and he rubs his face with his hand. "You just moved in about six months ago." It was his turn to show his surprise. 

“You’ve been keeping tabs on us, kid?” 

“There’s not much else to do. Besides, I only ever really began when you or Steven was screaming bloody murder at something I couldn’t see.” You admit sheepishly. You wanted to ask him about it but it felt like the wrong time to do so, maybe later. 

“You went through a lot of effort of forging documents and flying across the Atlantic sea to live in London,” Marc points out, “Why go through all that effort? What are you running from?”

"Who said I'm running?" 

“No teen goes through changing their birth date and flies over sea just to live in London.” 

“I’m not running from the law or anything,” You say. He gives you a skeptical look and you roll your eyes at it. What gives him the right to question you? He was a sketchy person, he definitely had something to hide. You feel yourself getting defensive the longer he stares at you as if you were some puzzle he was trying to solve. 

“I noticed that you were screaming your head off at something I couldn’t see, that same night you were out late and came back around two in the morning just to disappear for a week and come back here with a tan and sand outside your door.” You say, letting go of the mug and crossing your arms instead. His expression doesn’t change and for a moment you felt a little regretful of being defensive towards the man who saved you. But, you had to keep in mind that he was a stranger nonetheless. He had no right being in your business just like you had no right being in his. 

“Where are your parents?” Steven asks, the wrinkles on his forehead were smoothed out and his features were more relaxed. He gives you a smile and adds, “You’re a kid who just went through something traumatic and we just want to know that you’re going to be okay.” His eyes were soft and you felt a little guilty about what you said but you still felt like you were in the right. 

“I will be,” You say. He pursed his lips but didn't push you for any more information and you were glad about it. He slouches a bit as he takes a sip of his tea and gestures to your cup. 

“Is it good?” He asks. You pick up your mug and take a drink of the liquid, it was cool enough that it didn't burn your tongue.

“It does,” you say after swallowing, “Thank you, Steven.” The two of you sat in silence, neither of you quite knowing what to say. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed that the time was nearing a quarter after nine, your time spent in your neighbors apartment was coming to an end. Soon, you’d be back in your apartment and your plan for dinner was to eat peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon since your groceries were ruined and lying next to the unconscious man in the alley. You swallow the rest of your drink and stand up from your chair, the wood scraping on the floor as your legs push it back. Steven stood up with you, immediately towering over you due to his height. He looked like he was struggling to come up with something to say so you beat him to it. 

“Thank you Steven and Marc for making sure I’m okay,” You say, the words fell out of your mouth awkwardly as you grabbed your coat from the back of the chair. You looked at the man as you hugged your coat to your chest, “I will see you around, I guess.” You walk towards the door and Steven calls your name which makes you pause in your steps and turn towards him. 

“Shut it, Marc,” Steven says before directing a kind look in your direction, “Feel free to visit anytime you’d like, yeah?” You nod slowly and thank him once again before exiting his apartment and walking down the hall to your own flat. The lights in the hallway were flickering, this time you noticed it was a bit more aggressive. Was there a storm brewing and it was going to cause a power outage? You wondered as your keys unlocked your door and you pushed it open to an empty home. 

Moonlight filtered through the window, it was a cloudless night, there wasn't a sign for a storm in sight. You have yet to buy proper curtains, instead you bought blankets from the thrift store and tacked it to the wall as makeshift curtains. You flicked on the light and shut the door behind you, making sure it was bolted shut before you tossed your jacket onto the kitchen counter. Grabbing a spoon on top of the drying towel on the counter and opening the cabinet, you grabbed the jar of peanut butter before hopping onto the counter and unscrewing the lid. Your spoon dug into the creamy food before you began to eat it. 

The lights were flickering in your apartment, and if it wasn’t for seeing them flicker in the hallway you would have thought that you forgot to pay your electricity bill. You were on your third spoonful when your mind began to wander over the events of today. You were lucky that your neighbor saved you and nothing else happened to you. Even though some stuff about your neighbor made sense, you were still caught onto the incident in the elevator a couple weeks ago. What was Steven and Marc screaming at? Where did they go for the last week, somewhere obviously with sun and sand, and London doesn't offer much of the first one. 

You struggled to swallow your dinner as it stuck to the roof of your mouth, it was just your luck that the power went out at that moment. Slowly, your eyes adjust to the darkness as you finally get the last of the peanut butter down your throat. Setting your spoon into the sink next to you, you hop off the counter. You needed a flashlight, lucky for you your phone has one and you knew it was in your jacket pocket. You patted the space next to you for your jacket, your fingers brushed against the jean fabric before you pulled it towards you and began to feel around for the pockets. The moonlight helped your search a little, you carefully walked closer to the window on the living room side of your apartment so the light from outside would be more helpful. You were still patting the fabric of your jacket when movement caught your eye, you paused and looked up towards the opposite side of the room where the door to the hallway was. 

Something was standing there that shouldn't be there. You had nothing over by the door that could be making that figure. You weren’t sure what you were seeing, but with little moonlight flooding into your flat you could see that it was tall, its head nearly brushed against your ceiling. The shoulders of it were wide and it was holding onto something with a crescent shape at the top of it. You knew nothing could be there, that it was just your eyes tricking you into believing something was there. The mind was a dick that way, but still your heart skipped a beat as you stared at whatever was there. The pit in your stomach tightened and your hands began to shake from fear. 

Slowly, as if it would notice you if you were to move any quicker, your hand patted your jacket until you found your phone. Your fingers wrapped around the cold device and you carefully pulled it out. Just as soon as the lock screen of your phone lit up with the picture of your parents, the lights flickered back to life and your eyes shot to where you saw the figure. Your heart was still pounding against your chest as you took in the room you stood in. Nothing was there. Your mind was just playing tricks on you into believing something was there, you reassured yourself. Your hand clenched tightly around your phone as your chest rose and fell with every breath you took. You just had a bored and over active imagination, you’re safe, nothing is there. 

But despite the self-reassurances and triple checking your flat for any location that someone or something could be hiding in; and making sure the door was bolted shut four times that night. You laid wide awake on your couch, so sure that something was in your apartment with you.

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Complications and Solutions: Chapter 9

Summary: Steven, Marc, and Jake are learning how to work together and respect one another. Gotta start somewhere. Where does the relationship with Layla stand now?

Pairings: Marc x Layla. Steven x Layla. Jake x Layla.

Warnings: Food. They eat. Mild sexual language. Kissing. A Bad pun.

Word Count: 3686

Start at the beginning with Chapter One: HERE

Previous chapter: HERE

---

Jake stared at the white board that was now hanging on the wall. There was a small cup attached to the side filled with multiple colored markers. 

A note in dark blue had been written across the board in Steven’s quick but fancy handwriting. 

Our communication board. Please leave important info here like appointments or dates or grocery items. Put the rest in the journal. 

- Steven

Under that was a simple response in black marker sketched out by Marc’s heavy hand. 

Fine. 

Jake picked up a red marker and held it up to the board. He hesitated then sighed and simply wrote: O.K. 

He could imagine Steven’s frown at seeing these two short responses. He ran a hand through his hair then added: We need a haircut please. Just a trim.

There. A start. 

Now what was this journal business? 

He glanced around and saw three notebooks sitting on the kitchen counter with a pen. Each one had a name written across the cover. 

He opened the one with his own name and stared at the front page. It was a letter to him from Steven. 

I want us to talk, but I understand that sometimes we can’t. We can work on that, but maybe it will take time. Till we can all share the same space and talk and agree on things together, we can leave notes for each other personally. 

Thank you for watching out for us. I don’t know how long you have been here, and if you ever watched over me or if you just kept your eyes on Marc, but you are my hero. 

You aren’t alone anymore. I can watch over us all too. You don’t have to tell me our past or the things that happened or even explain yourself. Let me offer you help sometimes. I can offer you emotional support or talk us out of a situation. Please don’t overlook me and my abilities. Let us work as a team. Let me get to know you too. 

Jake ran his fingers over the ink and felt the traces of the person that had written it. He had watched Marc all of his life. Now and then he had taken a peak at Steven, but he had never really paid attention. Steven’s life was controlled and mundane and never required a quick step in to save them or stop harm. 

Jake suddenly realized that he had been overlooking Steven. Overlooking his importance to the system as a whole and not just in helping to calm Marc down when he was melting down. 

“Lo siento…” Jake sighed and turned the page. He made a promise to try to talk to Steven later. 

On the next page he saw Marc’s handwriting. It was short and he imagined Marc reluctantly being forced to write something by Steven. 

Hey. Thanks for all the saves. Sorry I’m such a shit. Maybe try talking to me now and then instead of just knocking me out. I can fight. I can take hits. I’m not as fragile as you think.  

Jake sighed. Marc could take the hits. He wished Marc didn’t have that special talent, but the man could take the worst beating of his life and stay standing. 

Jake hesitated then picked up Marc’s notebook. He put pen to paper then wished he had Steven’s ability to communicate. What did he want to tell him? 

You are the single most difficult person I have ever met. We share a lot. I learned to look out for you because I respect you.

He groaned and closed the book. This was going to be difficult. He would try for Steven’s sake, but it would just be easier to start talking to them. 

He wasn’t used to letting them sit near the front when he was out. It often made him nervous to know they were watching. He had spent so long acting on his own and covering his tracks. 

In fact, the first time Steven had spoken up and commented to him while he was out he had startled so hard that he had dropped everything. He knew that the first time Marc sat near the front with him he was not going to like it. 

It was hard to learn to share. 

Speaking of sharing, he heard the sound of the front door unlocking and he had to take a moment to remember not to immediately throw someone else to the front. 

“I’m back!” Layla held up a bag of food. “They were out of that appetizer you like so I got extra breadsticks.” She paused and looked at him and he could see her processing as she tried to figure out who was with her. He waited a moment, expecting her face to fall as she realized it was not Marc or Steven. Instead she smiled. 

“You found the new communication station. Steven spent all morning fussing with it. He wanted to put up more decorations but Marc didn’t want to get fancy.” She set the bags on the counter and started to dig out the food containers. 

Jake set the pen down and eyed the containers. “It is a start. Perhaps better than making big changes and then being upset about them later. What are we eating?” 

Layla gave Jake a sheepish look and set out a box for him. “Steven ordered. He really wanted falafel. Is that okay?” 

Jake shrugged. “I’m sure it’s fine. Steven will probably switch in soon anyways. He’s always near the front when you show up.” Jake glanced inward and acknowledged the man in the back trying to pretend like he wasn’t there. 

“Do you always know who will switch in and out?” She started to unpack the food and set things out on plates. 

Jake moved to help her, keeping an eye inward. “Not always. You get a general feel for who is closest and can get a pretty good idea that they will take front. Sometimes if everyone is close then it comes as a surprise.” 

“But you can control it. You personally, I mean.” She glanced up at him. “Since it’s like your job, from what I gathered.” She blushed a little and it made Jake smile. 

She wanted to know so much. He had at first been suspicious. Others had once been interested in how it all worked too, and they had labeled it unnatural and tried to kill him with pills and injections and other things. 

Not Layla. Her interest was because she genuinely wanted to know how to support them. What to expect and how to settle into her own life around it. She wanted to know how to tell them apart. She wanted to know when it was okay to ask and when it was too hard for them to deal with it. 

“I have a bit more control over it than the other two do. I can’t control it all the time, though. If someone is in front and does not want to give up front, I can’t always pull them. If I’m in front and they want it, they could potentially pull me, or at least make it very difficult.” He tried a piece of falafel. 

“Do you like it?” She smiled. 

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the falafel. “Hmn? I like the flavors. Maybe not the texture so much.” 

“That’s okay. It can be a bit much if you aren’t used to it.” She laughed and looked at him for a moment as she sorted her own plate out, mixing sauces and loading up a pita. “What do you like to do for fun?” 

Good question. Steven chimed in. Where do you always go so late at night? 

Jake raised an eyebrow at that. Steven didn’t know how to keep his commentary to himself. He was always muttering about things or providing narration. It was hard enough for him to keep things to himself when he was in control of the body, but when he was inside things just tended to spill out of him. 

“I like to drive.” He shrugged. “I find it relaxing. I also enjoy dancing. There is a place not too far from here that has good music.” 

“You dance?” Layla’s eyebrows shot up. A grin slowly spread across her face. “Steven has two left feet and Marc just stands there and sways side to side. Do you really dance?” 

Jake gave her a sly smile. “I am light and fast on my feet. I don’t just use it to dodge bullets.” 

“Can I go dancing with you someday?” She instantly looked down, cheeks red in embarrassment. “I just… I’m maybe not very good but I always enjoyed clubbing when I was younger. I snuck into my fair share of concerts and clubs.” 

“Steven is scandalized by your rebellious past.” Jake ate a bit of the rice and found the flavor to be far more to his liking. “I would love to take you. Perhaps tonight if you are free…” 

“Tell Steven there’s a lot about my past that he would find scandalous.” She smirked. “I’m free. Do you want to add it to your new calendar over there? So the others don’t forget and get you all invested in something else?” 

You’re in for a treat. Layla used to sneak into punk rock clubs and mosh. Tell her to wear the red thing. Marc’s voice startled him and he dropped his fork. 

“Wear the red thing?” Jake mumbled. 

Layla looked at him in concern for a moment then blushed so red it spread to her ears. “I…I’m not wearing that in public. Those days are over and I’m pretty sure that got tossed out years ago.” She paused then looked at him shyly. “Is…Is Marc telling you about that? Can you share pictures or memories?” 

Jake looked away. “We can. I’m requesting that he doesn’t.”

Can I see? Steven perked up. 

“No. Those are between Marc and Layla.” Jake took a big bite out of the falafel and chewed it stubbornly. 

Layla relaxed a little. “Jake the gentleman.” 

Jake felt a gentle nudge that was almost a question. Expecting Steven, he was surprised to find Marc there asking for control. 

He hesitated then looked up at Layla. “Give us a second.” 

Switching out with Marc never went easily and often left them disoriented or with a nasty headache. 

Jake stepped back and Marc was in. There was only the briefest of moments where Marc blinked and glanced around, before he focused in on Layla and grinned. 

“We should get you a new little red thing. I loved seeing you in it.” Marc glanced down at the food and started to assemble it the way it was meant to be eaten. “Like this, buddy. Takes away from the dryness.” 

Jake watched as Marc poured on the sauce and mixed everything in the rice. He was still doubtful but maybe it was an acquired taste. 

Layla gave Marc a look. “The number of times I put it on, I think I made it out of the house once. You never let me wear it longer than an hour.” 

“It’s not my fault that you’re so sexy.” Marc reached out and lay a hand on hers. She took his hand and squeezed it gently. 

“As much as I love you, I think those days are over. Besides, I have Steven and Jake to think about now. They might not appreciate those sorts of things.” She smirked. 

Steven took front so hard that he practically stumbled over himself. “Mnhno! No! I appreciate those sorts of things. You are… You are absolutely lovely and stunning. If you want…” 

Layla laughed and Steven blushed bright red. “The red thing can be for Marc. I think I’d like to find our own special something.” 

Steven nodded eagerly. “Of course, love.” He looked down at the food and smiled. “Jake says you can wear whatever you want to the club.” He started to eat eagerly. 

“Are you all talking now?” She nibbled at her meal. 

Steven paused and Jake glanced to the side where Marc was hovering. It was pretty common for Marc to be to the side when Steven was out. Jake slowly put down his own wall where he often hid from the others. I’m still here.

Steven grinned. “Yeah. We’re all here. I think we’re going to try all hanging out today. See what it feels like. Might get a little loud in here.” He tapped his head. He instantly looked haughty. “Maybe not for me. I’m the only one apparently with any opinions.” 

He chewed and Jake and Marc couldn’t help but grin to themselves. Steven always had opinions. Marc had come to find them endearing and expected them. Jake was starting to find them comforting. 

Layla nodded, deep in thought. “Will you do me a favor?” She looked into their eyes and it was almost like she could see all three of them there, looking back at her.

“Of course.” They all answered and the accents jumbled together briefly. 

 “Can I hang out with you all too?” She took their hand and gave a small squeeze. 

Jake took front easily without a fight. “Of course, hermosa.” He looked at their hands for a moment. “Maybe we can get some practice in before tonight…” 

Her face lit up and Jake couldn’t help but stare. She was beautiful. He’d had no trouble noticing it before, but now there was something different there. 

“I’m a little out of practice.” She got up and moved to slip her house slippers off. 

Jake went to Steven’s old record player and selected something he had once hidden in the back. “Is it okay if it’s a bit passionate? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the club gets a little tight.” 

She smiled at him. “If it’s okay with you, I think I can handle it. Plenty of dance partners are not actually lovers, you know.” 

He nodded and laughed. “Oye, idiotas. Pay attention, maybe you can take her dancing too someday. Show her real passion.” He mumbled to the two watching with rapt attention. 

The music started slow then built to a passionate salsa. Jake was light and fast on his feet, sure footed in every movement. A far cry from Marc’s heavy steps and Steven’s stumbling. 

He pulled Layla close, his focus fully on her as they moved and spun, dipped and slid hands across curves. His touch was light and as she gazed into his eyes she was dazzled by the smile that she found there. Was this the first time she had seen Jake smile? Seen him truly let go and be himself? 

When the song ended, Jake laughed. “Steven requests a turn. Perhaps something slower.” 

Switching out the song, Steven turned to Layla and took her hand. “May I have this dance?” 

“Of course.” She pulled him close and rested her head on his shoulder as they slow danced, gently rocking from foot to foot in a circle. Nothing fancy but every bit as intimate. 

When the song ended, he gently spun her and dipped her low and confidently. His eyes sparkled. “We share more than memories sometimes.” 

“Is that so?” She grinned up at him, happy to see his pleased smile as he let her back up. “I think I remember some of my own moves.” 

She changed out the music to something that used to blast across the clubs in her wilder days. 

Turning, she already knew she’d find Marc there. “Remember our style?” She teased. 

“We aren’t going to end up making out in the bathroom, are we? Cause those are the only moves I seem to remember.” Marc crossed his arms. 

Layla stuck her tongue out at him playfully and snagged his arm. “Come on, sour puss. Let me take care of you.” She spun him, taking the lead and pulling him close. 

She could see him struggling not to smile as she guided him around, shaking hips and on one occasion sliding her hips to his teasingly before she bent him back into a dip. 

He burst into laughter as he looked up at her, sweating and struggling to hold him up from hitting the floor. He grinned and went dead weight on her, letting them both crash to the floor as he pulled her down into a kiss. 

“Mnh. Now this is the type of dancing I can do.” He smirked. “Scandalous.” 

She kissed his forehead and sat on him. “I’m not putting on a show for the other two. But you remember those moves for later, Marc.” She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I seem to recall a few positions from that club bathroom I wouldn’t mind repeating someday.” 

Marc groaned and flopped back. “You’re going to embarrass me in front of Jake and Steven.” 

“I’m sure Steven and I will have our own moves someday.” She smirked. “Being in a library could be very sexy.” 

Steven stared up at her with wide eyes, trying to look utterly shocked and not at all interested. “I would never!” 

She kissed him and smiled as he leaned into it. Pulling back, she gazed down at him lovingly. “I would never desanctify your library, Steven.” 

He blushed and lightly placed his hands on her hips. “Maybe… Maybe the reference section is a little…sexy…Sometimes… Just a little…” 

“The reference sex-tion?” She bit her lower lip with a grin. 

“Ugh. Get off.” Marc made a face at her. “That was terrible.”

Layla laughed and shifted to get off them when the hands on her hips shifted and tightened, stilling her. 

She looked down and found Jake looking up at her. The look on his face was one of curiosity. Something that needed and wanted to know the answer to a question that hadn’t been asked. 

He looked her over, taking her in fully for possibly the first time with new eyes. She held still, her heart fluttering hard in her chest as he slid his hands down her outer thighs then slowly reached up and brushed over her shoulders, pulling her down. 

His lips brushed over hers lightly, hesitant and asking. She responded, letting her lips press to his in a featherlight kiss. 

Jake slowly slid a hand to her back and pulled her closer, his other hand moving to the back of her head, fingers sliding into her hair as he breathed across her lips then captured them in an exploratory kiss that sent shivers down her spine. 

It was the first time any commentary from Steven went silent. Almost as if everyone were holding their breath in this one moment. 

When he at last pulled back, Layla was left leaning over him breathing hard and feeling her every sense alight. Shyly, she looked down at him, half expecting to find him gone with Marc of Steven laying there in confusion. 

Instead, she found Jake still looking up at her, his eyes clear and a small smile on his lips. “Sorry.” He shifted to sit up, letting her gently slide off him. “I thought that… You just looked so beautiful there. I wanted to…” 

“You wanted to see if it was something you wanted too?” She gave him a slightly guarded look. 

He glanced at her. “If it was something I could have.” 

“You don’t have to.” She touched her lips, still feeling the gentle contact there. “If it’s not for you… I have the other two. If you never want to, I’m okay with that. I’m okay with you just the way you are.” 

He reached out and touched her hand gently, slowly lacing his fingers with hers. “I think maybe more than friends… But I cannot say to what extent. I just know…” He searched inside for the right word. Turning to the other two, still holding their breath and watching with wide eyes, he asked for help. 

Steven, the crafter of words and negotiations, stepped forward but did not take full seat. They blended and Jake understood what he had been missing out on by keeping Steven at arms length this whole time. 

“What we….he means… He loves you. You’re more beautiful to him than the night sky and he could gaze at you all night, lost in your wonders. We trust you. We all trust you more than anyone. He wants to know you more than anything but he doesn’t know how to show it.” Steven smiled and shrugged before stepping back again. 

Jake swallowed and gave her a shy smile. “Basically that.” 

Layla pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him tightly and leaning into him fully, nearly knocking them back again. “This. This is how. This is everything I could ever want from you, Jake. You never have to give me more than this.” She clung to him tightly as emotions rushed through her. “Dancing with you, smiling, being happy. Even just letting them love you and me. Friends or lovers or boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t care what the title is. All I want is to be happy with you.” 

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “Mi amore.” He flushed. “Thank you.” 

God you’re so sappy. Marc gave a playful nudge to Steven. 

Maybe if you tried it now and then. Steven nudged back, pleased with himself. 

Gracias. Jake nudged them both. 

Layla pulled back from the hug, her eyes red. “Ugh.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I’m a mess. I’m going to get cleaned up then we are going to finish lunch. If I’m going dancing tonight I’m going to need to find something nice.” 

Jake got up and smirked. “I will make sure the body looks nice. Lucky for you that I know how to make us look nice.” 

He paused at the communication board. Mustache. Yes or No? 

He made a tally mark under yes then moved to sit back down to eat. 

Layla smirked and grabbed one of the colorful markers and added a mark under yes.