#and i honestly am too tired to properly bother with it

[evil-city]

Day 162 of making low effort Des doodles until New World Of Steam releases

I am straight up not having a good time

[mammonsrockstargf]

a/n: hi fellas, i have hypersomnia, which basically just means i fall asleep a lot so here’s the brothers with a very sleepy mc.

At first, the brothers are kind of confused. Demons don’t need as much sleep as humans and they’re baffled by your excessive sleeping. Do all humans sleep so much? Why are you always flaring your teeth at them? (They later learn that this is called yawning.)

Lucifer initially thinks you’re lazy and it honestly bothers him. Simultaneously you remind him of a certain brother, so he also lets many things you do slide. He'll just sigh when you fall asleep 45 minutes into one of his lectures. “I think they understood my point,” he says, before turning to Mammon and continuing his lesson for a good two hours. As you get closer, he understands that you aren't lazy and he even lets you sleep in his office at R.A.D. whenever you need it.

One late evening you trudge into his office, blanket in hand. He looks at you with a raised brow. "Bed, now. You haven't slept properly in like 3 days," you say, while pointing your finger threateningly at him. Much to his own surprise, he finds himself in his bed with you snuggling into his side. He supposes you kind of complete each other in that way, where he sleeps too little, you sleep too much.

The first time you fall asleep during one of your hangouts with Mammon he’s annoyed. He lets you sleep it out because you just look too cute when you’re sleeping, but when you wake up he’s crossing his arms and pouting. “Am I really that boring, huh?” Luckily, we all know the great Mammon can never stay mad with you for too long, so he warms up to you again within an hour or so. If you want you can always speed up the process significantly by giving him kisses or a big hug. It works every single time.

Once he realizes you don’t fall asleep because of him, but because you’re just so damn tired, he stops getting bothered by it. Instead, he just tugs you in, covering you in blankets. He'll even scold his brothers if they're being too loud around you. This just causes them to make fun of him, but always at a lower noise level.

Leviathan is also hurt at first, especially because you fell asleep during an anime marathon. He’s a bit harder to make happy again. He’s absolutely convinced it has something to do with him. No matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t believe you until one day when you fall asleep in the middle of a conversation with Mammon. The sight makes him laugh so hard, he almost falls over.

After that, he doesn’t mind anymore. After all, if you fall asleep around Mammon, then it's probably you who's the problem, not him. He lets you sleep with your head in his lap. He’ll even tread his fingers through your hair, but he’ll never admit that to you when you’re awake. Once you wake up again he’s happy to give you a recap of what you missed in the episode, plus an analysis of the dialogue and the hidden meanings of certain scenes.

Satan doesn’t mind at first, because he likes how it bothers Lucifer. He even helps you get away with it. When you fall asleep during class, he’ll put a book in front of you so the teacher can’t see and he’ll answer the question for you if you’re called on. He even begins to write notes for you. Later it just becomes a habit of his, he does it for you without thinking.

If he’s reading aloud for you and you fall asleep, a smile will tug at his lips and he’ll just continue reading for you. Because of you, he begins researching human sleeping patterns. After he reads that certain foods can make you more energized, he begins to carry fruits and nuts with him, which he offers you whenever you get sleepy.

Asmodeus thinks beauty sleep is very important. It’s only natural that someone as beautiful as you should sleep a lot. Besides that, he’s probably the one who wakes you up from your sleep the most. Too much sleep can be bad for you as well! Besides that, he can't wait for you to wake up to share the insane gossip he just heard. You need to hear it now!

Like with Lucifer, you remind Beelzebub of Belphegor. A lot. His chest hurts when he finds you sleeping in the living room and he carries you to bed. When you fall asleep on his shoulder, he pats your head. He likes just looking at you when you sleep. Not in a creepy way, you just look so peaceful. It soothes the ache in his chest.

If you get too tired while you're out on a trip or assignment, Beel will often offer to piggyback you. Beel is a big guy, he could carry Diavolo around if he wanted to. With you on his back, he barely even registers your weight. His arms hook around your legs and sometimes his fingers will dig into your thighs. He likes the way you wrap your arms around his neck and the way he can feel your breath on his ear, while you whisper things to him. Most of all he likes when you fall asleep and he can hear your soft breathing.

Once you become friends with Belphegor, he’s excited to have a sleeping buddy. You come up to the attic to have your midday nap with him and he immediately opens his arms for you. “I’m serious, Belphie, only one hour,” you say, while setting the alarm on your D.D.D. “You know I can’t sleep for any longer than that.” Belphegor just nods sleepily and traps you in his arms. Once you're asleep, he grabs your phone and turns off the alarm.

When Beel comes to wake you up, saying it’s time for dinner, Belphie just laughs when you slap him lightly and complain that you slept for three hours. After that, you refuse to nap with him anymore until he swears that he won’t mess with your alarm again.

One time you mentioned that you have a hard time waking up in the mornings. The constant night of the Devildom is really messing with your brain. That very same day, a new bed lamp is ordered for you. One of those that imitate the sunrise in the morning, slowly lighting up your room as you wake up. You’re a lot more energetic in the mornings after that, a sight that makes all of the brothers smile your way at breakfast.

thanks for reading! you can find my other stuff here. <3

[allthenamesithinkofaretaken]

Through the void

Wally Darling/ F! Reader

(Platonic or Romantic)

Hurt/ comfort

Summary: Wally wakes up in the void and sees (Y/n) buried in her own sadness, comfort ensues.

It’s a bit self-indulgent, and not the fic I promised to post, I know. The wedding fic will have to wait as I am currently in a bit of a mood (i don’t know what to call it, I’m just honestly tired all the time and everything feels like it sucks type of mood and I can’t do things properly) which is why I tried writing this to try and get back in a good mood. Also, it’ll be my birthday on May 7! Which is exciting because even I didn’t think I’d live this long (lmao) but anyways, onto the story!]

He woke up in a place he didn’t expect to.

Instead of the comfort and warmth of his bed inside of his well kept bedroom, he lay on the cold floor of nothingness with the sound of static filling his ears, the sound piercing through his eardrums in a way that it hurt, making his head throb and his fingers curl in on his fists as the pain began to erupt in his head in waves. Lifting his closed fists, he presses the base of his palm against his ears, muffling the sounds of static as he shut his eyes in hopes that it would go away, that it would all fade and he’d be back in his bed, hidden under the covers with Home’s windows open and purposefully letting the sound of the neighborhood in his room in hopes to wake him up.

But none of that came.

Instead, the more he stayed curled in on himself on his spot, the more he could make out the cries and sniffles of someone through the void, getting numb to the sound of static as time passed. If time even existed here. Or if the static was just growing quieter and quieter, and he was just too dumb to realize it.

When it had been bearable enough to remove his hands from his ears, he managed enough energy to push himself up off the ‘floor’ (if he could call it that. It was a blank slate that seemed to just hold him up, there was nothing really below him. It was as if an invisible force was pushing him upwards). The cries had become more apparent, though they had soon fallen into hushed whimpers and sniffles as he made his way towards the noise and saw the familiar sight of his neighbor curled up on the floor, her knees pressed against her chest as she wrapped her arms around them.

“Neighbor..?” He called out, his own voice sounding foreign to him. She seemed to hear him, though, turning her head to face him where he was able to clearly see the tears that ran down her cheeks.

“Hey, Wally,” She gave a small forced smile at him, lips quivering as she kept them pulled upwards. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

He takes a seat beside her, crossing his legs over the other and watching as she wipes the mess away on her face, tucking her hair back and pulling away any of the strands that stuck to her face.

“I didn’t mean to bother you, I thought no one could hear me cry in here,” she made a wave to the darkness that surrounded them, and his chest tightened at the look of pain that crossed her face. “I’m just bringing out some frustration, you don’t need to stay here with me.”

“What’s bothering you, neighbor?” He asks, letting himself lean against her and feeling the warmth that radiated off her body, a contrast to the coldness that wrapped around them like an unforgiving storm.

The static had dulled now, Wally realized. Was she the one to cause all that?

Her breath hitched as she tried to speak, and he could spot the tears once again beginning to brim her eyes. He places a small hand on her back, letting her take a moment to gather her words and calm herself down, rubbing gentle circles against her back like how he remembers his friends do to each other all the time while comforting them.

He hoped he was doing it right. The sight of his new neighbor beside him, in tears, brought an unfamiliar twist in his stomach and a clenching in his chest that he didn’t quite like, and the pain in her voice only doubled that feeling.

“I couldn’t—” she paused, as if to rethink her words, letting the tears flow freely down her cheeks, the look of annoyance crossing her face from having just wiped the tears away, and yet here they were again, making more of a mess in front of Wally, of all people. “—I don’t—” she choked on a sob and to his surprise, she let out a weak laugh, hands coming up to rub at her face in frustration.

“—I’m sorry, I can’t put anything into words right now.” She apologizes, and he leans his head against her shoulder, feeling the way her body shook with every intake of breath.

“It’s alright, neighbor,” he hums, shutting his eyes and finally basking in the comforting hush of the static. “I have trouble putting my emotions into words too. It’s not really an easy task.”

“Right?” He was happy to hear the slight tilt of joy in her voice, though there was still that shakiness of her words, there was still that hint of happiness that made his stomach flip. “I’ve never really done this before.”

“Like what?” He tilted his head to the side, trying his best to look up at her through her hands that rubbed incessantly at her eyes, as if doing so would make them stop the tears that kept from overflowing and pouring down her cheeks. “Cry?”

“No,” she gave a weak chuckle, pulling her hands back and then letting out an exhausted sigh push through her lips. “Talk.” She paused, then looked down at him, their eyes meeting as she gave a gentle smile. “I’ve never let myself talk to anyone about my problems before.”

“Barnaby told me once that talking to people helps in making you feel better,” He added, bringing both his hands in front of him and looking at the felt that covered his palms.

“I’ve heard that it does,” She smiled, pausing to lean her head against his own, and Wally leans against her as well. “But it doesn’t make it any easier to tell others. What if they hurt you more? What if they use what you say against you?”

“None of our friends would do that to you, neighbor.” He had to admit, he was a little bit hurt at her implications, and he gave her hand a slight squeeze, not even realizing he’d begun holding it in the first place.

“No, of course you wouldn’t,” She gives him a reassuring smile, seeing the flash of hurt that crossed his face. “I’m not talking about you, or the rest of the neighborhood.”

Oh.

“Are you talking about the people on the other side?” He asked, though he already knew that answer to the question. She gave a weak nod, and he hummed. “Well,” he starts, slow as he seems to think of what to say next. “They’re not here right now.”

She squeezed his hand in reply, a small laugh escaping her. Ever so persistent, she thought, but there were no hard feelings. She knew that he was only trying to make her feel better.

“No, they aren’t.”

“Do you want to talk about it, then?”

“I do,” She hums, closing her eyes as she lets the silence and Wally’s presence try to pull the sadness away, to pull away the walls she’s learnt to build around herself for once and actually let someone in. But the thought alone made her skin crawl, made her thoughts yell and scream at her to run and never come back. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

Wally senses the way her shoulders uncomfortably tensed underneath him, and he momentarily pulls away to be able to get a proper look at the way she avoided looking at him.

“It’s alright, neighbor,” Wally cups her cheek, the feel of his soft palm against her skin making her heart swell and cheeks burn, eyes wide as she looks down at Wally who looks up at her with the most gentle smile she’s seen someone give, looking at her eyes with the same sort of gentleness she’s only seen and read in love stories. “You don’t have to tell me right now,” he pulls his hand away, much to her slight dismay, the warmth of his palm being replaced with the coldness of their surroundings as he goes back to leaning his head against her shoulder. “But I’ll be right here when you’re ready.”

“Someday, maybe.” She replied after a moment of thinking, a small smile tugging up her lips. It was going to be easier said than done, she knew that much. It was difficult even trying to let someone see her cry like this, the thought alone made her want to curl in on herself and die, but for them, she was willing to try.

“Alright then,” Wally hummed, closing his eyes and basking in the now deafening silence that filled the void. “There’s no rush. We all need to go at our own pace.”

She couldn’t help the weak chuckle that escaped her at that, leaning her head back against Wally’s as she shut her eyes and letting them rest, feeling the burn of her eyelids as she closed them after crying so much.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Wally.”

[fruitcoops]

Falling for Forever

Two for two on deadlines, baby! Ignore the fact that it’s been 11 months. This fic put me through the absolute wringer and now I get to stand on it and witch-cackle in victory. Almost 11k words of physical, mental, emotional, and...all those other types of healing. Bon appetit, babes! Character credit goes to @lumosinlove, to whom I owe my heart and soul for building this universe.

TW for past injury/ memory loss, working through trauma

Part One: What You Have, What You Hate (the amnesia fic)

Part Two: Sirius Love Yourself and Remus Get Therapy, Electric Boogaloo

It just wasn’t fair.

Sirius was fine. Honestly, genuinely, from the bottom of his heart—he was fine. Sure, some days his head hurt more than others. Sometimes he’d wonder where he put his phone when it was still in his hand, or enter a room and forget why he went there in the first place, but those weren’t new occurrences. He could walk and talk and remember just about everything from his life, with the notable exception of the ten minutes before the hit.

But Remus hadn’t slept properly in days, and Coach wouldn’t let him back out on the ice, and the whole damn thing just reeked of pity he didn’t want. Pity he didn’t need.

Remus’ hands flickered over him, tucking and retucking the sheets until Sirius caught his wrists and pressed a kiss to each pulse point. His broad shoulders sagged. “I’m being a bother again, aren’t I,” Remus muttered. He shook his head without waiting for a response. “Fuck, I am, I’m sorry.”

“You’re not being a bother.”

“No, I totally am—”

“You’re not,” Sirius repeated. The shadows under Remus’ eyes lightened every day, but still lingered. He looked threadbare, his voice thin, like someone had taken an eraser to his edges. He held Sirius tighter at night than he ever had before. The worried crease between his brows smoothed when Sirius pulled him down to sit on the mattress with a small smile. “Lay down, I’m cold.”

Tension had been holding Remus up like a second skeleton for days now, ever since they had been discharged from the hospital and promptly collapsed into bed for ten hours. Sirius had only seen it release him in deep sleep—a fleeting event at best. It was like the hospital had followed them home and seeped into the walls, staining Remus’ vision until they were right back where they started.

Remus turned out the lamp and curled into his usual spot against Sirius’ chest, shuffling around until he was comfortable; Sirius splayed a hand between his shoulder blades and tucked his nose into soft curls. Of all the aftershocks he had prepared himself for, the fatigue had snuck up on them both. “Bonne nuit, mon coeur,” he whispered.

“Night, baby.” Lips brushed the peak of Sirius’ cheek before Remus snuggled up once more.

Kiss me, and I’ll know, Sirius had said into the inch of space between them on a paper-thin hospital pillow. And Remus had, because he was made of everything light and good and kind in the world. It had been six days since they came home; two weeks since the hit. That remained the only time Remus had kissed him on the mouth. Sirius closed his eyes against the ache in his chest and readied himself to try and rest.

--

That first night home had been distilled bliss. They showered together—showered, dear god how Sirius had missed that—and Remus had washed his hair and the spots he couldn’t reach with reverent hands. They were both so, so tired from the endless discharge paperwork and so, so silently afraid to step away from each other for more than a few seconds. Remus was shaky, but happy. Contented. Solid in Sirius’ arms when they finally laid in their own bed after days upon days. They spooned the whole night and into the morning, neither budging an inch.

“We should eat,” Remus had sighed when the sun was finally too high to ignore. His hand moved in slow strokes, tracing from Sirius’ hand to his elbow and back again, just to touch. The intimacy of the movement settled something deep inside them both if his drowsy smile was anything to go by.

They stayed in bed for another hour in comfortable silence before their empty stomachs won out. Even in the kitchen, Sirius had hugged Remus from behind with his chin propped on a well-muscled shoulder to watch him cook. “Mon coeur,” he murmured into the shirt that had once been his. The smell of the hospital was long gone and the fabric was soft. “Mon loup, mon amour.”

He had trailed his mouth along the curve of Remus’ neck and held him close. The frayed edges began to ease.

The routine came easily. Nothing else did, so Sirius had to be a little grateful for it. They left social media to its conspiring and only spoke to family, face-to-face on the doctor’s orders. Leo meal-prepped like a madman; they could hardly keep Dumo out of the house; Lily brought Harry over in an obvious ploy to distract Sirius while their husbands fixed the leaky faucet, though he wasn’t offended by their caution. If it were James on the injured list, he would have swaddled him in bubble wrap at the first opportunity.

“Hey.” A kiss feathered Sirius’ temple and he looked up from his crossword, blinking back the memories. Remus perched on the table with a smile he couldn’t help but mirror, clad in a sweater that brought out the hearth-warm brown in his eyes.

“Bonjour,” he managed, a little breathless.

“Wanna go for a walk?”

“Really?” The doctors’ definition of his permitted ‘minimal exercise’ amounted to literally walking up and down the stairs—even a wander around the block was pushing his luck. Sirius had tried extraordinarily hard not to be jealous when Remus took Hattie out every few hours so she didn’t destroy their couch pillows with excess bursts of energy, but it felt like he was a toddler in time-out. “A real walk?”

“A real walk,” Remus confirmed. He ran his fingers through the hair above Sirius’ ears and Sirius nuzzled into it with a kiss to his palm. That touch had kept him grounded at his lowest point. He knew better than to take it for granted, now.

“What about a run?” he asked, cracking a grin at the eye-roll it earned him.

And Remus laughed. The sound sent butterflies careening through his stomach; it hadn’t been absent since his fall, but it had been…well, a little rare, if he was being honest. More rare than his mostly-reliable memory told him it should be. Remus was joy incarnate, but he had been so tired lately. It was good to see him shine again, even for a moment.

Sirius pulled him in by the sleeve and kissed the corner of his mouth, tasting the last bits of humor that lingered there. Not the lips. Not until Remus was ready. “I love you.”

Remus turned until their foreheads rested together and their noses bumped. He was smiling softly. “Love you, too.”

--

“Baby?”

Sirius made a noise of acknowledgement, but didn’t budge. His hands were warm in his pockets, and the sun was hot on his windburned face. Hattie’s collar jingled; he smiled when her nose pushed into his thigh and Remus’ arm looped through his own. “Hey. Good run?”

“That hydrangea was a real threat to our safety.”

Sirius grinned and opened his eyes to kiss the top of Remus’ head. Fresh air seeped into his blood, replacing the stale sludge he had been dragging around all week. Finally, he felt human. “I’m sure it was.”

“Excuse me?”

They both startled, stepping apart. “Yes?” Remus said, his tone curious but a little tense. “Can we help you?”

A young man shifted from foot to foot, as if he couldn’t quite believe they had acknowledged him. It seemed whatever (certainly invasive) question he was going to ask had become stuck in his throat. Sirius arched a brow and saw him swallow hard. “Are you—are you okay?” the young man finally got out.

There it is. Sirius forced a smile and knew it came out tight by the sudden regret on the other man’s face. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“You’re sure?”

I’d be a lot more sure if you fucked off and let me enjoy my walk. “Very sure,” he promised.

The young man’s dark eyes flickered between them before settling on Sirius’ forehead. His beanie covered the small bandage, but that didn’t seem to dissuade him from staring. “You were in the hospital for, like…a while.”

“Just a few days,” Remus assured him. Sirius felt a light squeeze on his hand and returned it in a silent request; a gust of wind snuck down the back of his coat and raised goosebumps along his arms.

“Will you play at the next game?”

Sirius exhaled slowly through his nose as something bitter crawled up and stained his teeth. “We’re waiting on the go-ahead from the doctors,” Remus said placatingly. “Better safe than sorry. Thanks for your concern, though. Enjoy the weather.”

They were walking before the man could open his mouth again—Remus’ knuckles were white on Hattie’s leash and she had to trot to keep up with them, her fluffy tail bobbing happily. Sirius ground his back teeth so hard they squeaked. “Remus—”

“Don’t,” Remus murmured, clear and clipped. “Don’t go there, baby, it’s not worth it.”

“I need to play.” He did. He needed to play. He needed to not sit at home for another week, two weeks, a month, and pretend he was alright with it. Six days were manageable. Six more would send him over the edge. If he had to spend another beautiful afternoon cooped up in the house...

“You’ll play when you’re ready.”

“I am ready.”

Remus stopped cold, jostling both him and Hattie. He took a fortifying breath, mouth pressed into an unhappy line. “Please don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Sirius, just—don’t. You know I hate being the bad guy with this kind of thing.”

Sirius looked away. He did know that. He had seen how miserable Remus was when he had to bully Sirius into doing his exercises when his ribs were broken, how it had killed him when Sirius couldn’t put his fatal fucking pride aside for two seconds to heal. Guilt made his stomach squirm. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “But I—I need to play.”

“I know.” Remus’ eyes found his own then, gloved hands wrapping around Sirius’ wrists with something like desperation. “Believe me, I get it and I’m sorry and this has got to be the worst feeling. But this is different than your ribs, okay? We can’t afford to backslide. This isn’t some sort of—fucking punishment, I promise.”

God, he hated spoiling perfectly nice days because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. His winter clothes made his skin prickle. “I feel fine, Re.”

“But you’re not.” Remus turned Sirius’ face back with a touch to his jaw and he went willingly, even though he wanted to see anything but the hurt in Remus’ eyes. Since when was he so terrible at listening? “Not yet. We’ll start here and work our way up. I won’t talk to the press about it after games. You don’t owe people like him a thing. Don’t make this harder for yourself by letting them get under your skin.”

Sirius took a deep breath. The steam of his exhale clouded the curls spilling out from under Remus’ hat. He had known this would happen the second someone asked about his health—it was his rookie season all over again, shooting pucks in the basement because he didn’t know what else to do. Remus deserved better than what Sirius had done to himself. “Let’s do another loop around the park.”

--

Remus had cried the third night. The days were easy; they could cuddle and cook and Remus would read to him while he napped, still drained from a week of hospitalization. They could watch one TV episode every evening and got permission to throw their diet plans out the window to enjoy some treats in celebration.

At two o’clock in the morning, Remus had bolted upright in bed and shaken Sirius awake, rattling off an endless stream of questions that Sirius couldn’t respond to. Not because he didn’t know the answers, but because he had been unconscious about four seconds prior and was still technically concussed.

“Non,” he had mumbled, grappling against waking and batting sleepily at the thing holding his shoulders.

A strangled sob had answered and Remus’ touch disappeared like he was touching hot coals. By the time Sirius registered enough of the world to attempt reassurance, all he could do was hold Remus and silently curse himself. Do you know me? Remus had asked. Sirius had given him the one wrong answer. Done the one wrong movement.

It was three o’clock when Remus finally let sleep take him again, slumping into Sirius’ side with tears drying on his face. Sirius laid them down and watched light play over the ceiling from the street. When Remus woke again at nine, he didn’t say a word about the nightmare, just turned into the hollow of Sirius’ neck and let his hand rest above his heart. Though Remus slept fitfully over the following nights, he hadn’t cried again.

They were working on it.

--

“Out.”

“But I—”

“Out,” Leo repeated, making a shooing motion with his spatula. Sirius muttered something under his breath and trekked back into the living room with a last kiss to his husband’s cheek, working up a scowl like he was getting paid for it.

“Impressive,” Remus remarked around a mouthful of chips from his seat on the counter; his gaze lingered on Sirius’ retreating back while Leo poured sauce over the stuffed pasta and popped the whole pan in the oven.

Leo set a timer, wiped his hands on his pants, then cast one more look out the kitchen door to make sure their respective boys were out of sight before turning to Remus with his arms crossed. “What’s up?”

Remus’ chewing slowed. “Just…having chips.”

“Loops.”

“Did you want some?”

Stubborn bastard. Leo pushed himself onto the counter next to Remus and gave him a look his mother would be proud of. “What’s going on? I’m worried about you, man.”

But rather than throwing the chips aside and spilling his heart out—not that Leo was expecting it from Remus ‘Brick Wall’ Lupin, though a guy could dream—Remus closed his eyes and exhaled long and slow. “You are the third person to say that in 24 hours, Knutty. I’m good. If I wasn’t, I would talk to someone about it.”

“See, if you had ever done that even once in your life, I would believe you.”

“I’m doing great,” Remus insisted. Leo wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. “Sirius is home, he’s healing, he’s making progress, we’re fine.”

The distant look in his eyes was gone, but something in his face was still too heavy. Leo hadn’t heard him crack a joke or seen a real smile all day. He chewed the inside of his lip and raised his eyebrows, and watched Remus’ resolve crumble. “I didn’t ask about Sirius, Re,” he said. “I asked about you.”

“I’m not the one who had amnesia.”

“No, you’re the one whose husband had amnesia, and that’s pretty fucking traumatic.” Remus shoved another handful of chips into his mouth with an unhappy crunch; Leo hesitated for a moment, then shuffled closer until their sides touched. Remus tensed. “I’m not trying to push you, but I need you to know that I’m here and I want to talk when you’re ready. I can’t imagine how hard the last couple weeks have been.”

He had tried, the night he went to get Regulus. Every part of him felt full of pure energy—every red light had made him twitchy as the events of the day replayed in his head on constant loop. But picturing himself in Remus’ shoes, and Finn or Logan shoving him away from their bedside with a stay the hell away from me or that fragile, frightened confusion...that had taken the wind right out of his sails. He nearly turned around to go home then and there.

“It sucks.” Remus didn’t look away from the oven timer. “That’s kind of all there is to it, you know? It happened. It sucks. We’re working on it.”

Leo nudged him, just a little. A single crack in Remus’ careful walls was progress. “It does suck,” he agreed. “Have you been alone yet?”

“I mean, yeah, you guys are the first visitors in a couple—”

“Have you been alone yet?” Leo repeated.

Remus was quiet for a few seconds, then swallowed hard. “I fixed the faucet with James, but I can’t…I can’t. I don’t think either of us can right now.”

“Okay.”

Remus’ eyes flickered up to him. “Okay?”

“I’m not a therapist.” Leo shrugged one shoulder and tried for a smile. “I’m your friend. Yes, I’m worried, but I’m not going to force you to do shit right now. I’m going to make dinner for you and a cake and then you’re going to tell me what you need a hand with so you can focus on dealing with this instead of, like, cleaning your windows.”

The kitchen was starting to smell like manicotti, cheesy and warm and full of tomato. Remus set the chips down and tucked his hands under his legs with a shake of his head. Ever so slightly, he leaned into Leo. Success. “I wish this never happened.”

Leo sighed. “Me, too.”

“I wish I had caught him in time.”

“I was closer than you were.” The guilt had been so raw at first, but it was scabbing over. Dwelling on the past wouldn’t fix the present. “Are you mad at me?”

“Fuck, no.”

“There was nothing we could’ve done fast enough, Re.”

Remus scrubbed his hands down his face, then linked them at the back of his neck. “I need to talk to Heather.”

Relief crashed over Leo in a tidal wave; he took Remus by the shoulders and pulled him in for a brief, fierce hug that drew an ‘ope’ of surprise out of him. “I really didn’t want to bring it up but yes, you do, and I will drive you there myself if you want.”

Remus laughed weakly, but didn’t try to pull away. “Is it bad that I want to lay on the floor for at least twelve hours?”

“I might suggest the couch instead, for the sake of your old-man joints.”

“Watch it, Knut.”

“Keep that up and you’re not getting extra sauce.” It was an empty threat and they both knew it, but it was worth it for Remus’ snort of amusement. Leo squeezed him in a quick pulse. “Fuck, dude, I missed you.”

Leo felt some of the iceberg-sized worry slough away at the tentative press of Remus’ hands on his back. In the other room, Logan and Sirius were already laughing. “Will you hide some of the manicotti so I can reheat it later?” Remus mumbled.

“There’s a whole pan in the back of the fridge behind your gross coconut water.”

“The kind Sirius hates?”

“Pre-cisely.”

“You’re a godsend.”

“I get that a lot.”

--

Lily sipped her tea with the same energy as a wolf watching a lame, juicy rabbit from across a riverbank. When Remus said as much, she cracked a smile. “Just thinking.”

“Huh, there’s a first.”

“Fuck you, too.” He felt a light kick to his shin under the table and feigned injury, just to watch her face scrunch in a snort. “Spoke to the hubs.”

“Yours or mine?”

“The less hot one.”

“And how is Pots today?”

“Looking DILF-ier every minute. That man needs another baby. But actually, Re, I think you and Sirius should talk.”

He raised his brows. “Is that so?”

“Sounds like somebody has been squishing all those gross, nasty feelings back into the little box he just got them out of.”

“Oh, Jesus, it is not that bad—”

He jumped when Lily touched the back of his hand. Something knowing had overtaken the laughter on her face. “Remus, you need to talk to someone.”

“I’m seeing Heather on Thursday.”

“Good.” She set her teacup down and took his hand between both of her own, twisting his ring. “I’m worried about you.”

“Take a number.”

“Can you stop for, like, two seconds and let me try to help? I’m bad at this. Have some mercy.”

Something wriggled with discomfort inside him, but he put his cup on the table. “Lils…”

“Calm down, we’re not here to therapize each other. We’re here to have fun and watch bad TV and you’re going to let me paint your nails later. But—” She held her hand up when he made a face. “But first, I’m going to do my job as your best friend and tell you that some people think the patented Remus Lupin Avoidance Tactic isn’t going to work with this extraordinarily terrible event.”

“What people?”

“You know what people.”

Unfortunately, he did. Sirius, Talker, Leo, Lily…the side effect of a supportive family was having all kinds of people up in his business. Even more unfortunately, they were probably right. “Leo talked to me,” he admitted. “It helped. And I really am going to see Heather, and I’m going to try to—I don’t know, let go a little.”

Lily laced their fingers together the way he had done for her the night she found out about Harry. Her next breath came out less steady. “That means you have to let us take care of you, okay? Even if you’re busy taking care of Sirius. He’s got medical experts to do the heavy lifting. You’ve got Remus experts.”

“Lily, I’m not the injured one,” he said quietly.

“This hurt you, too.” The green of her eyes looked a little misty before she glanced away. “Holy shit, Remus, this hurt all of us, but I don’t ever want to watch you hurt like that again. I love Sirius to death but he’s got stuff to work through that you can’t fix. If you’re so worried about helping, then please let us help you.”

“I can’t ask that.”

“That’s why I’m offering.”

An exhale got stuck in his chest and he coughed lightly; Lily tilted her head back with a sniffle. Christ on a crutch, this whole vulnerability thing is harder than it sounds. “Leo made us dinner the other night. Talker and I are going skating on Saturday. I’m trying.”

“I know,” she said. “I know you are. But if it had been James that fell, and I was the one in your spot, what would you do?”

I wouldn’t leave your side. He started to answer, then faltered. Lily’s mouth turned down at the corner. “Oh, shit,” he said thickly. Across the table, Lily nodded. “Oh—I have been awful to you.”

“No, no, no, I’m not mad.” The pressure of her hands on his own increased, like she was trying to push it into him.

“I’m scared.” His voice wobbled and he blew out a sharp breath. In the blur of his vision, their hands were the same vague lump. How could he be so self-absorbed? How could he push them all away without even knowing it? He opened and closed his mouth. I need help. I need help. It was right there, but all that came out was, “Lily.”

She tugged on his sleeve; in the space between breaths, they were hugging. Her breaths hitched under his hands a few times before calming, and Remus shut his eyes tight and held her closer. I hurt you. I’m sorry. He knew she wouldn’t accept an apology. That didn’t mean he couldn’t think it with all his heart. Somehow, she would hear it.

“All you have to do is let us be there,” she rasped, pulling away to hold him at arms’ length with a light shake. “We want to. You’re scared and that’s fine and nobody is angry with you. Just talk to us. Talk to Sirius.”

He nodded mutely. When Lily brought him close again, he didn’t pretend he needed anything else.

--

The isolation was what killed him most. They were given no privacy—fuck the media and fuck the inventor of cell phone cameras, motherfuckers the lot of them—and so Sirius saw it all. Everything he didn’t remember. Everything he had tried to forget. Remus, pale and frightened with Sirius’ blood on his fingers. Remus, unable to let go of his hand when the medics pulled Sirius onto the stretcher until James pried him off. Remus, tucked in on himself in the lobby outside Sirius’ room looking like he had been flayed inside out.

So he understood. He got it. The trauma, the pain. What he didn’t understand was why Remus wouldn’t let him in anymore.

It hurt a little (a lot) to hear Remus rustling around and know he wouldn’t get a kiss even if he asked. And when he did ask, his request would be met with a wan smile and a brush of lips to his cheek, chin, forehead, everywhere but his lips. There was love in those touches—he could feel it radiating—but the reckless abandon was gone.

It was like Remus wanted to melt into the walls. It was like he wanted to melt and leave Sirius behind entirely.

God, it was always him, wasn’t it? Always his fault. Everything that went wrong in Sirius’ life would track right back around in an endless circle to the laundry list of wrong decisions. The ache of knowing Remus didn’t want him anymore was constant and painful like a broken ankle, but the absolute fucking terror of being shut out was a killstroke Sirius had never wanted to imagine.

He didn’t like the person he was before Remus. He didn’t want to know what would happen if the frosted front was permanent. How could he be real and solid when the one thing that reminded him he was alright was…

Was not alright. So deeply not alright in every curve and angle of his body. Sirius wasn’t foolish enough to think Remus would willingly talk about his feelings, especially at a time like this, but some silly, devoted part of him had thought Remus would at least try. He had mentioned something similar (if kinder) to Lily over crepes and hot chocolate, and a funny expression had come over her face. She had touched his wrist and smiled, but a troubled shadow remained through the rest of their lunch.

When Remus came home after their day together and said, “I asked for help” before anything else, he knew that shadow had found its mark.

“You did?”

“I did.” Remus took his time with his winter layers, hanging and folding each one with unusual care. “Lily and I had a good talk.”

“That’s—”

“I haven’t been fair to you, and I’m sorry.”

Sirius blinked. Lily, what did you do? “… for what?”

“I’ve been all over the place.” His words were coming just a touch too fast.  Remus’ hands were cool on his face, but his lips were warm when he left a kiss on each of Sirius’ cheeks, like he had been biting them again. “I was trying to do too much for you, and I should have backed off. We both needed some space to process.”

“Um. D’accord.” He kissed Remus’ forehead and felt him melt. His shoulders relaxed. His hands came to rest on Sirius’ hips. Sirius left another tentative kiss by his temple; he would take every bit of affection he could get. “Is everything okay?”

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Remus repeated.

“I—no, I heard that part.” Sirius rubbed his back carefully. Remus had grown thinner over the month, though from stress or distraction, he wasn’t sure. The notches of his spine ran in a ladder beneath Sirius’ fingertips as he gathered him closer. Perhaps Lily had succeeded where he had failed. “You’ve done more than I could have asked for, loup.” More than I deserved. Yet Remus wasn’t pulling away from him, wasn’t showing the slightest sign of discomfort under his hands. “I picked up some zucchini. And made a cake.”

Remus made a faint noise of interest where his face was pressed close to Sirius’ collarbone.

“It’s chocolate.”

That got him a pleased mumble.

Sirius risked a kiss to the top of his head and got a happy sigh in return. “Come cook with me. We’ll talk. Tell me about Lily.”

Remus blinked slowly when they parted; the nervous buzz of energy had trickled to a hum. “What about Lily?” he asked. “You just had lunch together.”

Did she tell you I moped about you? “Ouais, but you talk about other things.” He left his hand on the small of Remus’ back as they crossed the short distance to the kitchen and found no protest. Perhaps it was time for a bigger question. “You look better, mon coeur. It seems like she helped.”

Tension twitched against his palm before settling down again. Remus stretched his arms out with a groan, then went for the cutting board drawer. “She did,” he admitted after a moment. “I was—yeah, no, she helped a lot. There was a lot happening in my head that I didn’t have words for.”

“I know the feeling,” Sirius half-laughed, passing him a knife. This was good. This was progress. Before the fall, they cooked together every night. His body knew the motions even if his thoughts were a whirlwind. Remus knocked their temples together lightly. Next step. “Like what?”

“What?”

“What didn’t you have words for?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder and began slicing the stems from the zucchini. “Just…stuff. Oh, you found really good ones.”

“I’m glad.” Sirius watched him work in silence for a few seconds, stirring olive oil in a pan with no heat under it. Remus didn’t appear to notice. “Re?”

“Mmm?”

“Were you angry with me?”

“Oh, god, no.” Remus jerked his head up, his brows pitching. Something in Sirius’ expression must have given him away, because his gaze softened. “I was just scared, I think. It’s been a lot.”

“Tell me about it,” he joked.

But Remus didn’t laugh. His cheeks flushed and he turned back to the zucchini with an uncomfortable cough. Fuck. Remus tugged his lower lip between his teeth, worrying at it in a tic Sirius had been trying so hard to break him of. “I couldn’t help you. At the rink, I mean.” The knife accentuated each word with a clack. “But I could help here, and so I was trying too hard. That’s kind of my—um, that’s kind of my default.”

“Je sais,” Sirius said quietly.

“So, I’m sorry for spiraling into you when other people know how to help better.” Remus let out a shaky laugh. “God, this is hard. I’m trying to be brave about it.”

“You were brave for me.” The words were gentler than expected. The chop-chop-chop of the knife slowed, and stopped. “You stayed in a hospital for three days. You were brave for me.”

A wobbly slice of zucchini fell on the cutting board. There was a slight tremor in Remus’ hand, now. “I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“You were brave,” Sirius repeated. He reached out and stopped the knife, folding Remus’ fingers into his own. “I can’t imagine what that was like. Thank you.”

His shoulders shuddered. He still didn’t look up. The tremor had spread to his arms, fine and delicate under his sweater. “I would do it all again.”

“I know.” Remus sniffed at that, pressing his sleeve under his nose as if he could hide it from Sirius. A droplet hit the edge of the cutting board, staining the wood. “Mon loup.”

“For you, I would do it all again.”

“Remus,” he murmured, turning him by the shoulders until he could see Remus’ bottom lip quivering despite the turn of his handsome face. A noise caught in Remus’ throat when Sirius cupped his jaw and brushed the pad of his thumb over one damp cheek. “Re, I need you to talk to me.”

“I can’t do it,” he choked out with a slight shake of his head. “Not without you. I wouldn’t want to.”

And, fuck, if that didn’t just carve at something deep in Sirius’ insides. Remus couldn’t even look at him, his gaze somewhere between the cabinet and the floor, hidden under his too-long hair that was just starting to curl.

His next breath was almost a wheeze. “I can’t do this without you.”

“Yes, you can.” Sirius gave his arms a light squeeze. Remus was strong and solid and more grounded than anyone he knew.

The sniffs came faster, his chest hitching over and over until it became a constant shiver; he swayed forward, hands slipping from Sirius’ elbows to grip the back of his shirt like it was the only thing holding Remus on Earth, his face pressed flush to Sirius’ chest as tears began to soak through it. Sirius caught him. Held him. He tucked his face against the side of Remus’ head and let him leave all that heavy burden in his arms for just a moment longer.

“I could,” Remus admitted, so miserable Sirius had to close his eyes. “Fuck, Sirius, I could, but I would hate every second of it.”

It should be impossible to feel heartbreak for something that never happened. And yet.

Sirius shifted to rest his chin on Remus’ head while sobs turned silent in the sleeve of his shirt. He would give anything to take that pain away. His fame, his money, anything in the world—whatever it took to make sure Remus never had to wonder if he would have to keep going alone. Sirius would be dead before he left him. But he supposed that was exactly what Remus feared most.

“You don’t have to.” He whispered the promise into the soft golden hair above Remus’ ear like the greatest truth. “You don’t have to, I swear. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, and I want you, and I care about you, and I’ll never leave you.”

The big talk could come later. He was more than willing to wait.

--

Remus woke in the middle of the night to the blankets shifting and a familiar weight absent from his side. Rather than giving in to immediate panic (a far-too-frequent habit, though he hated to admit it), he reached out with a sleep-slurred question and felt around blindly until Sirius’ hand caught him. “I’m here,” Sirius said with a laugh in his voice and a kiss to his wrist. Remus hummed. Of course he was. Sirius had never left him before. “Re?”

“Mhmm?” he managed, slotting himself into Sirius’ side and throwing a leg over his thigh. He was warm and wonderful.

Sirius was quiet for a bit, idly toying with Remus’ hair. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“Kiss you all the time.”

“On the lips.”

Ah, yes. Exhibit number 204 in the inventory of Remus’ weird hangups in the wake of terrible things. He was endlessly grateful for Leo and Lily—their talks had let him begin to classify the experience as actual trauma rather than dismissing himself more—but it still made him frown into Sirius’ shirt. The truth, while necessary, wouldn’t be pleasant.

“ ’m scared,” he said at last.

The hand in his hair slowed. “You’re scared… of kissing me?”

He finally blinked one eye open and checked the clock. Hours left until dawn, because they had never been able to have serious conversations in daylight. He stretched, bidding the dregs of drowsiness goodbye before he moved his head to the pillow and met Sirius’ troubled expression. Oh, god, I lost him. The words had ripped from him as he knelt on the cold floor of the hospital, disoriented and shattered, his world coming down in pieces. He had never thought it was possible, and that made it hurt even more.

Remus sighed through his nose and kissed the closest bit of Sirius he could reach. “It brought you back to me.” Kiss me, and I’ll know. “I’m still afraid it’ll take you away.”

Sirius stared at him for a long moment. “You know I was flirting with you, ouais? At the hospital. With the kiss thing.”

“I know, baby,” Remus laughed, a little bubble of happiness sliding all the way into his heart. He had missed their talks. “You were very smooth. But…I don’t know, it stuck with me. I know it doesn’t make sense. I want to kiss you all the time, and every time I try, I think about seeing you in that bed.”

Sirius’ palm nearly covered his whole cheek as he cradled Remus’ face, guiding him in to brush their noses together. “How about this bed?” he said, low and just for Remus to hear. “This is a good bed.”

Remus’ heart skipped a beat. Sirius’ lips were so close they were practically touching; he was comfortable and safe, and the hospital was far in the past. He knew what Sirius’ lips would feel like against his own, how his breath would catch after the first press. Kissing Sirius was a part of life and he loved it with his whole heart.

“You don’t have to,” Sirius whispered. Remus could feel the shape of the words on his own mouth and closed his eyes. “Re, you don’t have to, but I love you and I want you to know you’ll never lose me.”

A shuddering breath left him. He was afraid. But he could be brave at the same time.

Sirius’ breath caught when their lips met and Remus squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, feeling the rough scratch of stubble on his palm when he guided Sirius’ chin down for a better angle. His lips were as chapped and full as he remembered; his smile was just as sweet. Sirius let him roll them over until Remus could hover above him, supported by one elbow because he couldn’t bear to break contact now that it was in his hands again. “Re—”

Remus made a small noise and kissed him harder. No words. Nothing to take them out of this. Sirius curled a hand around his wrist and held it, his thumb rubbing circles over Remus’ pulse. It wasn’t until his lungs began to burn that he leaned back, lips sore and heart racing. “I love you,” he said around the emotion clogging every attempt at speech. A few weeks ago, that kind of kiss would have been nothing but a habit. “Sirius, you don’t even know how much I love you.”

“I know—”

“You don’t.” The memory of bright fluorescent lights bleeding in from the hall pushed at the back of his mind. His whole body tingled. When he licked his lips, he could taste Sirius’ chapstick. “I know you love me because you tell me and we spend time together and you hold me so close, but I don’t know how to tell you so that you understand.”

Sirius’ hands smoothed along his heaving sides. “I know you love me, Re. Have a little faith.”

“I have so much faith in you.” The air didn’t burn with antiseptic; their sheets were washed with plain laundry soap. “I would do anything for you. I love you so much.”

A tumble of soothing French followed and Remus sank into it, letting himself be guided back down and hugged. “This is important, so I need you to listen,” Sirius said with a scattering of kisses to his jaw. Remus forced himself to open his eyes. He would listen. He would do that for Sirius, whose gaze was determined, but not angry. Never angry. “I love you. I always have. I loved you from the second I woke up in that hospital room, even though it scared the shit out of me.”

Sirius had feared him in the hospital, had shoved him back. Get away from me.

“Please look at me.” He found Sirius again in the darkness. His calm eyes, his gentle mouth. “I’ve never doubted your love, Re. I can feel it in everything you do.”

“I try really hard,” he said, far too honestly. Sirius’ hand smoothed down his spine and Remus pressed into him. He wanted—he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Even being held was overwhelming. Another kiss might make him pass out.

“I know.” Sirius’ voice was heavy. “I’m sorry if I made you think anything else.”

Remus shook his head. He never wanted to leave their bed. “It’s just been a lot.”

“It has. I’m so grateful for you, Re.” Lips touched his forehead. “Mon amour.”

My love. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered. “Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

“You can take your time,” Sirius said with another peck to his cheek that made him burn. “With kisses, and with—with everything.”

Hmm, no, please knock me out with your magic lips. “Can I have a goodnight kiss?”

“Ouais, mon vœu.” Sirius didn’t even try to mask the relief in his voice as Remus tilted his head up; his hand was steady under Remus’ chin when it dipped at the delicate kiss. “Fais de beaux rêves.”

He moved to pull away, but Remus chased his mouth and caught him for another. Sirius was right—this was a good bed. The sheets were familiar, the light a soft glow. It was home. They kissed at home.

He left one on the corner of Sirius’ mouth for good measure before settling back down with an arm over his ribs. The bundle of anxiety he had been carrying since they came home felt lighter. “Goodnight,” he sighed, vibrating in every limb. “I love you.”

--

Sirius knew it would feel good to be back on the ice, but he had never imagined it would feel like this. The puck found the flat of his stick just like he knew it would; the carbon fiber flexed, he squared his shoulders, and the whoosh of it sinking into the net brought nothing but joy to his whole body. Remus was right, per usual—hockey was love.

He took a wide, lazy loop while everyone else fucked around, chirping each other or fencing with their sticks or boxing, gloveless and playful. The ice was smooth under his skates; he let it carry him wherever it wanted and watched spirals form in his wake. His pads fit like a second skin, grounding him with their weight. Even his mouthguard settled just right over his teeth.

“Someone’s having a good day,” James teased, smacking the backs of his thighs as he passed. Sirius grinned, deliriously happy, and let James drag him into a hug; they collided with a familiar thump of pads. “Man, is it good to have you back out here.”

“It’s good to be back.” Five weeks was by far the longest Sirius had ever gone without skating. Even in the summers, he would find a rink or head to the basement when he got the itch. Mid-season, that number was down in the hours. His skates were home. He was finally settled in his skin.

“This captain shit is hard,” James laughed when they parted, eyes bright behind his contacts. “I’ve been doing it for a month, and I’m done.”

“Five years,” Sirius reminded him.

“I know, you fuckin’ hockey mutant.”

Sirius stole a puck out from under Finn and snapped it to James, who caught it with ease. All it took was a twitch of his brow and the game was on, keep-away across the ice with rules they both knew by heart. The cold air burned his face when he picked up speed; James’ crossovers were even better than they had been when they last played together, and Sirius smiled. A month of being captain had done him good.

The shrill chirp of Arthur’s whistle stabbed all the way to the base of his skull and nearly sent him flying into James’ back mid-dive. “Fuck—”

“Easy,” James grunted beneath his weight when he caught him. Concern had replaced the excitement on his face. “Hey, you okay?”

“I—yeah, I’m fine.” Sirius blinked and shook his head. Weird. He hadn’t had so much as a headache in two weeks, but already he could feel a faint throbbing behind his eye. He shook his head again and stood up straight, pointedly ignoring the worried looks several teammates were shooting him. He was fine. He was healed.

“I posted the schedule by the bench,” Arthur called, the whistle hanging innocently around his neck once again. “We’re doing fundamentals today, okay? Nailing down the basics is a strength of this team, so I want you to put a hundred percent of your effort into the technicalities. Save any fancy tricks for the scrimmage at the end.”

Sirius smiled to himself. He excelled at fundamentals, and if he knew Coach, those basic exercises would fall right into his wheelhouse. He wasn’t stupid—obviously it was Arthur’s way of saying ‘welcome back’, but Sirius wasn’t about to complain about a chance to show off a little and shake the rust away.

Passing drills? Easy.

Net accuracy? Piece of cake.

Puck handling? Sirius had more than enough trophies sitting at home to do it in his sleep.

He reveled in returning to the routine that had built his entire life. His stick was an extension of his arms and his skates added those few inches of height for the perspective he had been missing, always a bit too short to see things through the right frame until he was back where he belonged. His muscles burned just right; the gloomy fog lurking in the back of his head lifted under the bright lights of his favorite place.

Someone bumped his back just as he was (reluctantly) heading to the bench for a water break, and arms wound around his waist. “Hi,” Sirius laughed as momentum carried them forward.

“Hey.” Remus gave him a squeeze, then ducked under his arm. He was flushed with happiness. Sirius’ heart tripped over itself. “How’re you feeling?”

“So good.” His whole face hurt from smiling and he cast a look around at the perfect chaos. “So, so good.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Got a little wobbly earlier with James. Everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” Sirius assured him, tilting Remus’ face up for a kiss on his button nose. But it was for fun, now. They had been allowed more than enough time to figure out their issues, both at home with each other and alone with Heather. Impossibly, he felt better around Remus after a month of recovery than he ever had before. “I’ll tell you if I start feeling bad, but this is good. I needed it.”

“I know you did, baby.”

They made their way back to the bench together, hips bumping with each out of sync step until their skates were on solid ground again and Sirius let himself fall into the mess of his friends without hesitation. Shoulders jostled, elbows knocked—he was at peace. “Good to have you back out there, Cap,” Kasey said with a grin and a clap to his upper arm. “Needed someone who could give me a run for my money.”

“Hey!” Logan complained.

A hand caught Sirius by the scruff and he went willingly into Dumo’s side hug, nudging their temples together. “Thought you could take a break and come back just as strong, eh?”

Sirius grinned. “You know it.”

Dumo tsked and shoved him away by the forehead. “Remus! Five weeks, and you haven’t tamed the ego on this one?”

“Not nearly enough time,” Remus countered with a wink that made Sirius’ stomach flip. “I barely managed to keep him in bed, you think I was paying attention to the real elephant in the room?”

“Yeah, I bet you kept him in bed!” Finn wolf-whistled, earning himself a squirt to the face from Remus’ waterbottle. The conversation devolved rapidly into hollering and playful jabs from all sides, and Sirius gave as good as he got.

Then the whistle blew again, and black spots of pain danced in his vision.

He rubbed the corner of his forehead with the heel of his hand for some relief and felt the textured skin of his new scar pull. He frowned.

“Baby?” The guys were still loud as they flooded back onto the ice—he must have missed Arthur’s instructions, he never missed instructions—but Remus’ voice was barely above a murmur. “Sirius, you okay?”

“Ouais.” The spots faded out. The pain had been quick and sharp, like lightning. “It’s—yeah, I’m good. The whistle startled me.”

Remus had his PT face on, though, and Sirius’ heart sank. He wasn’t getting out of this one easily. “Your head’s bugging you?”

Before the fall and everything that came after it, he might have lied. He might have continued to tell Remus he was fine despite obviously not being fine, and Remus would have let him, but he would’ve been upset and it would take them days to work it out. Hell, six weeks ago Sirius would have cut every corner he found to get back into hockey as fast as possible. And because Remus loved him, because Remus was so goddamn committed to making sure he was happy, he would’ve been able to get away with a lot more before someone called him on his bullshit.

That was six weeks ago. That was before the fall.

“It’s hurting a little,” he admitted. “But only when the whistle blows, and only for a moment. We’ll check it out when we get home. I feel really good for the scrimmage, though.”

Remus nodded hesitantly, then leaned up and kissed his cheek. A frown touched his mouth. “Talk to Layla after practice?”

“I will,” Sirius promised.

And that was that. Honesty, an easy promise to keep, and they were good again. They had both learned over the first few stages of recovery that a lack of communication to salvage one good moment wasn’t worth the inevitable Jenga tower of problems later. Sirius didn’t have to be afraid Remus would leave him over an imperfection, and Remus didn’t have to fear Sirius feeling suffocated by him.

It was such a breath of fresh air.

He lined up across from Dumo, bracing for the puck drop as adrenaline dripped through him and focused his vision. He won the face-off in one quick swipe of his stick and passed it to James, who caught it just like the last million times they had done it.

“Open!” he shouted as the opposing defense closed in on James and Finn. The puck was a blur he knew well, easy to catch, easy to carry. He slipped past Olli and dodged Dumo’s attempted poke-check; Sirius couldn’t stop grinning. His body remembered everything it was supposed to.

He snagged a goal in the first period and two assists in the second. It wasn’t until they were well into the third period that he realized he hadn’t taken a single check.

At first, he wrote it off as a scrimmage courtesy—no checks meant a severely reduced risk of injury. But it lingered in his thoughts and dragged his gaze to spots he normally wouldn’t put that much attention in; Logan colliding with everyone but Sirius, Nado and Kuny’s play-fight, Remus’ quick hits that always shocked the puck from the opponent. Not even one of them came close to Sirius.

He called for the puck again and made a break for the net; Logan was on his ass in a second, but he didn’t make a move to try and steal it away. Sirius extended his stick a couple inches. Nothing. He did it again, giving Logan the perfect opportunity to snatch it away if he just bumped Sirius a little.

“Are you going to take it or not?” he snapped as they swerved around Dumo.

Logan immediately looked guilty. “I…”

Sirius ground his teeth and knocked the puck to James, who attempted a shot he didn’t even try and follow. If they weren’t going to play fair, he didn’t want to play at all. “What the fuck are you doing, Logan?”

“Playing defense.”

“I practically handed it to you!”

“Well, fuck you, too!” Logan said waspishly.

The throbbing behind Sirius’ eye had started again. He wanted to break his stick in frustration, but he didn’t know if he could do it. There were angles and force and—and his head was killing him for the first time in weeks. The others were gathering in little huddles around them. He fixed Logan with a glare. “Why didn’t you take it?”

“It’s a scrimmage!”

“So hit me!”

“I’m not going to hit you!”

Sirius almost had him now. “You’ve hit me before! Split my fucking lip, too!”

“I’m not going to hit you!”

“I can take it, Logan!”

“Well, I’m not willing to fucking risk it!”

They were close enough to each other by then that Sirius watched Logan’s anger dissolve into instant regret in excruciating detail. The rink was dead silent. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered. The rest of them had the nerve to look surprised when he turned. Surprised and ashamed. “Is anyone here a doctor?”

Skates shuffled, tentative and awkward.

“Have any of you seen my medical information over the past month? Any treatment plans? Anything?” They huddled together like a pack of kicked puppies. Sirius took a deep breath. He was their friend, but he was their captain, too. He had their respect. He wasn’t about to lose it over one injury. “I don’t need you to worry about me. I need you to trust me. I know it’s my first practice back, but I know my body. I don’t need special treatment and I don’t want it.”

James raised his head; where shame tinted the faces of their friends, it found no home with him. “We’re worried. That’s it. It’s not worth the risk right now.”

“I don’t—” Sirius cut himself off before he could say something he regretted and pressed a hand over his eyes. Deep breaths. “Jesus, Pots, did you tell them to do this?”

“It was me.” His heart sank as Arthur leaned on the boards, unapologetic. “I told them to be gentle. You’re a great player and a good man, and I’m not going to risk your health in the first few practices.”

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. “It was a concussion. One concussion.”

“A concussion that had you in the hospital for close to a week and needed a month of recovery.” Arthur met his gaze and did not flinch. “You’re the captain of my team. I need you in top form, and I’m willing to make a little extra time to get you there. This team will not succeed if you throw yourself back in and get hurt again right away. Understood?”

His mouthguard squeaked between his teeth. Sirius looked down. “Yes, coach.”

Arthur tapped his clipboard against the boards. “Good. Scrimmage is over, boys. Do some cooldowns and then get stretching. Sirius, come talk to me when you’re done.”

Someone caught his elbow when he went to skate to the bench. “I’m not sorry,” Logan said, his jaw set. “I know you’re pissed, but I’m not sorry.”

Sirius sighed through his nose. “Yeah, I know.”

Back to the beginning, then.

--

“I know I’m the prettiest person on this team, but don’t look at me. Look at the light.”

Sirius squinted into Layla’s small flashlight; she passed it in front of his eyes a few more times before clicking it off. “All good?”

“Fine and dandy,” she said. “You said your head was hurting?”

“Just with the whistle.”

“Then, yeah, that sounds like normal stuff to me.” She shrugged one shoulder and offered an encouraging smile. “Your concussion is healing really well. Your focus was good, your pupils look normal, and light sensitivity seemed low. The auditory stuff is just taking a little longer to settle. How long until you’re allowed to play again?”

Sirius held down a grimace. “Three to six more weeks.”

“Sounds about right,” Layla said, apparently unbothered. “It’s good to have that much leeway, Cap. The noise sensitivity should wear off in a week or two, which means you’ll have plenty of time to get back on your feet at a hundred percent and play your best. If it doesn’t, come talk to me and we’ll fix it.”

“Yeah.” Paper pilled under his fingers as he picked at it. Six weeks would put them right on the doorstep of the games-that-must-not-be-named; he wasn’t exactly looking forward to being thrown into high-stakes competition right off the bat.

The exam table crinkled when Layla sat next to him. She was quiet for a moment, then patted his knee. “You’ll be okay. This is the kind of thing that shouldn’t bug you once you rest and recover. In a way, it’s better than your ankle.”

Sirius smiled wryly. He liked Layla—she had the same lovable good humor and unrelenting optimism in the face of injury as her predecessor. “I think most things are better than a broken ankle,” he noted.

“True.” She bumped his shoulder. “No more moping, Cap. You’ll be out there in no time.”

--

“Flashlight to the left. Okay, good. Give me the flat screwdriver.” Something clinked, then clattered, resulting in a satisfied hum. “Black tape. You looked excellent at practice today.”

“Thanks,” Sirius mumbled. He rummaged in the battered canvas bag until something vaguely tape-textured hooked his finger. “Uh, this one is white.”

“The black kind should be in the side pocket next to the box cutter.” Dumo hummed again when he pressed the correct roll into his open palm. “Merci. Your footwork was especially good.”

“My footwork is always good.”

“I know,” he chuckled. Several more bolts (nuts? Sirius still couldn’t remember which were which) fell into the pan by his thigh like silver sprinkles. “Coach seemed impressed.”

Sirius arched a wry brow, even though Dumo couldn’t see him. “Coach was just surprised I didn’t fall on my face.”

“Non, he was very happy to see you—”

“He told everyone to go easy on me.”

“What, like you wouldn’t do the same if it had been Remus? Or Logan? Or me?” Sirius winced at the thought; with a squeak of wheels and a slight groan, Dumo scooted out from under the washing machine and gave him a look. “I know today was frustrating, but you can’t expect us to beat you up this soon.”

“It’s been a month.” He was well-aware of the slight whine in his voice, and judging by Dumo’s amused huff, he wasn’t alone.

“For you, maybe. Felt like years to the rest of us.” The nut-bolt-screws were cold when Sirius rolled them between his fingertips, scowling. Dumo patted his arm with a grease-streaked hand and began sliding back under the machine. “Give it time, mon fils. They just want you back safe and sound.”

“They need me back for the play—”

“Non,” Dumo interrupted.

“They do!”

Dumo muttered something under his breath before looking up at him again. “Sirius. Come on.”

“James said he had a bad time as captain.”

“Oui, because he missed you. He did great. You should be proud of him.” A screwdriver gently poked him on the kneecap. “This is not about hockey. This is about friends.”

Sirius set the pan aside and stretched out on the concrete floor. His legs ached from being crossed for so long. There were cobwebs between the cupboards and the ceiling, even with the cold weather. “It’s hard for me, sometimes.”

Dumo made an understanding noise and turned back to the screws.

“Falling was embarrassing.” It was so much easier to talk about like this. Heather was a godsend, but the words came easier in French and the soft noise of the garage was far more soothing than a blue room with a suede couch. “It’s like—who even does that? I was tired. That’s it. Now everyone is upset.”

“I disagree with the last part, but okay.”

“Remus is upset.”

“Since when do you count Remus with ‘everyone’?”

He saw Dumo grin at the ensuing silence and covered his face with a groan, letting his head fall back on the cold floor. “God, fine, I’m being mean again and nobody is actually mad at me.”

“Atta boy. Hand over the white tape.”

--

It got better. Sirius got better. He had daily visits with Layla—they both had a laugh about old habits die hard, but still they laughed—and his weekly appointments with Heather had finally begun to veer back to their usual conversations. Aren’t you bored of my shitty childhood by now? Sirius had teased when they made it thirty minutes without discussing his head.

Heather had scoffed at him and whacked him lightly with a pillow. As if I’d be sad to see you this happy. Don’t even think about more head wounds, puck boy. We’re getting to the root of that next.

Slowly, he admitted that he had been sick when it happened. (It seemed Kasey hadn’t spilled his secret, after all). He told her about the chattering teeth and the brain fog that set in that morning; about the fatigue that had piled onto him until he couldn’t even make it through the gate and had to let it win. He told her about the overwhelming feeling that it was all his fault and that everyone would hate him for taking a break.

The world hates me when I’m good and hates me when I’m bad.

They’re wrong for that.

That had made him smile. Heather rarely spoke in absolutes. I know, he answered honestly. She hadn’t pushed him on it, and he liked to think she even believed him.

Remus was laughing again, moonlight in darkness. The good snacks began to disappear from the pantry once more—Sirius couldn’t be mad about it, no matter how often he considered billing Talker for their monthly groceries. Every bag of chips he never got to taste meant Remus would come home and kiss him and ramble about the day like the most adorable runaway train in the world. “I love you, I love you, I love you” smushed into his cheeks, forehead, lips.

His boys carried them to the playoffs with ruthless focus. His pads still fit and the whistle was on his side. And when he was ready, so fucking ready it made his veins hot, Remus pulled him into the break room with a wicked grin that made him thank every cosmic moment that gave him pregame rituals. He would take every bit of luck he could get. The crowd roaring for him deserved it all.

It came in the dusk of the evening, when the blustering winds had calmed and Sirius’ mind felt quiet at last. It was the relief of a wound freshly bandaged—there was no burn of newness, and yet no itch of a scab. It was just a wide, soft couch and a chest rising and falling beneath his hand. Remus kissed his forehead and let it linger like a dream. “Oh, I love you.”

Sirius breathed in, and out. A single spritz of cologne. Lavender shampoo. “You said you couldn’t do this without me,” he said, keeping his voice low. Remus hummed his agreement. He lifted his head slightly, into the gentle pressure of Remus’ hand in his hair. An auburn brow arched in a silent question; he traced the shape of it with his thumb. “You think I can do any of this without you, loup?”

Remus’ mouth curved in a half-smile. “You can do a lot without me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“That’s where we always end up, eh?”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[thegoober010]

HELLO! PAW PRINT ANON IS BACK!

I ABSOLUTELY ADORED THE ONESHOT!!! IM GOING INSANE ITS SO GOOD!!!

I have a bit of a different request this time! (It’s not Mettaton, I know, shocking.)

Could you do some Sans x reader headcanons? Preferably hurt/comfort if thats alright :33

IF IM SENDING TOO MANY REQUESTS PLEASEEE DO SAY SO!! I DONT WANNA OVERWORK YOU!!!

-🐾

AAAAAA IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT <333!!!

AND ITS TOTALLY FINE PAW PRINT ANON MWEHEHHE DW I LOVE DOING REQUESTS <333!!! AND OMG ITS NOTR METTATON RELATED!!!?!??!? shocking!!! absolutely BAFFLING!!

JKJK LMAO OFC I CAN DO THIS :)!! IT WOULD BE HELPFUL FOR NESXT TIME BTW LIKE WHAT TYPE OF HURT LIKE IF THE READER GOT INTO A FIGHT WITH THEM OR MAYBE THEY NEED COMFORT AFTER A BREAKUP OR IF THEY NEED COMFORT AFTER RELAPSING, AN ED, OR SUM THATD BE HELPFUL FOR NEXT TIME BTW <33!! IMA JUST DO IT THAT THEY HAD A BAD DAY AT WORK TODAY THE READER WORKS AT LIKE GRILBYS OR SUM TEEHEE

SANS X READER HERE WE GOOO 🗣🗣🗣

TW/CW -> None really- Just a depressed reader!

word count -> 1k/1164! I didnt write as much on this post sorry!! im pretty tired rn its 1:15 am where im at rn LMAOOO

"Are you alright?"

Fuck your life, you just came back to the house after a long, grueling, shitty shift. You were so tired you almost collapsed onto the snow before you even made it home. You just wished it was peaceful for once, that you didn't feel burnt out, overwhelmed all the time, you just wanted to sleep and never wake up, maybe then you wouldn't feel so tired. As you opened the door you placed your bag on the couch and made your way to San's room, who was not only your best friend but your boyfriend as well. He always helped you, even though you didn't particularly enjoy talking about your feelings to him especially on nights like this he was always there for you, always making sure you were okay and took care of yourself and had a good rest after these long days. You mumbled to yourself as you opened the door to his room until you realized. "Fuck he's not here." You grumbled. You rubbed your temple as you sat on his bed, you were stressed and you needed him. Why can't he just be there for you? Why does he always have to be off somewhere else and then appear late whenever you need him. It pissed you off even more, you knew you were thinking irrationally, he was always there for you it's only a few times where he can't be and is busy, you were just too stressed to think properly though, too stressed to even think about anything else besides how badly you just need someone to help you out right now. You crawled on top of his bed, covering yourself with the blanket. The shift was honestly terrible, many customers were overly rude at Grilby's today, mostly newcomers, and it was so damn busy you couldn't really do much about those people/monsters, you were so frustrated by all the orders and all the insults thrown your way, in fact you got way less tips than usual which caused you to be even more upset, money wasn't much of a problem but come on! Tears swelled up in your eyes from all the built up frustration from not just this shift, but all the past shifts that were almost the exact same situation, you hated working on those days and how underemployed that place was because you had to work twice as hard due to that as well.

After a good 10 minutes of you laying on the bed, muttering to yourself about all the stuff that happened and about how much you just needed someone for once and crying silently, you heard the door creak open. You wiped away your tears quickly with the blanket, shifting slightly and pretending to fall asleep. You knew it was sans and if he sees you like this he'd ask, and you don't want to bother him with any of your problems. "I know you're not asleep." Sans said walking up to you, he sat on the bed near you. "What happened?" he asked. You let out a sigh as you hugged the blanket tighter. "I don't want to talk about it." You grumbled, your tone annoyed with a hint of sadness. Sans stared at you for a bit before fixing your hair. "Are you sure? I mean you've been coming home more upset than usual, is work alright? Anything happening?" Sans questioned, his tone of voice growing more concerned. You furrowed your brows as you could feel the corners of your eyes sweet up with tears once more. You covered yourself with the blanket, not even daring to look at Sans. "Stop it, just STOP. I told you I'm fine! You don't have to pry into every little detail of my life I just want you here with me I don't want you digging into this I told you I'm fine, I just wanted you here with me, fuck." you yelled at first, calming your voice down as to not wake up Papyrus and to try to calm yourself down. Your voice cracks, you didn't really mean to come off as rude, you're just tired, you don't want him to get worried or to try and fix your problems, you just want him there with you, to give you a hug or just give you comforting words, you don't want him prying too much into this, you don't want him getting worried.

Sans seemed taken aback by your remark. He stayed quiet for a bit before nodding, he understood how you felt. Everyone has different ways they deal with this situation and how they want others to react, some want others to pry into their life and try to help solve their problems, others just want them to be there with them during this but not get too involved in the situation and many other things, everyone reacts differently to this much stress. Of course he was a bit shocked and to be honest a little hurt by your words but he knows you're just stressed and don't mean to be rude. He truly does understand, he knows how you feel, so he will be there for you. "You're obviously not fine, but I understand you don't want me to be involved in the situation, you just want me to be there for you, I understand." Sans replied, he gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder before laying with you on the bed. He let out a long sigh as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Take some deep breathes, that usually helps with stress, and make sure to sleep well." Sans said, you nodded. "Come on, let's take a few deep breathes." Sans said, you rolled your eyes but it does usually help. You did as he said and took a few small and quick deep breathes, trying to make the tension in your body disappear and just try to relax. "Feeling any better?" Sans asked, you shook your head no which caused him to chuckle a bit. "Yeah I kinda thought so. Deep breathes won't immediately make you feel bette but it helps with tension, for now just rest, cry if you want, I'm here for you alright... I won't judge you for being emotional okay. I love you too much for that." Sans said giving a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You nodded, you turned your head to face him and give him a small smile. "I appreciate that.." you muttered, he gives you a quick nod. "No need to do that, just rest, I'm here for you. No matter what happens remember that okay, I'll always be here for you." Sans replied, he wrapped an arms around you, pulling you closer. You let out a soft sigh as you moved closer to him, you closed your tired eyes and felt yourself slowly start to fall asleep in his arms. He kept his arm wrapped around you and watched you slowly fall asleep.

"Sleep well, I'm here, okay."

[markantonys]

Conversation on Twitter on how book Moiraine and Rand's antagonism and distrust despite needing each other is what keeps them from just being Gandalf and Frodo 2.0 and because the show made Moiraine the viewpoint character in s1 they just made Rand and Moiraine's relationship like Gandalf and Frodo's but like... They are antagonistic towards each other in s1. In s2 they argue too. And s3 it very likely could take a nose dive again. I do think the show toned down the antagonism a bit but the main difference is that I think show Rand respects her but I don't think he trusts her

has anyone in the world ever watched wotshow and thought to themselves "wow, moiraine and rand remind me so much of gandalf and frodo"????? in the early episodes of s1 MAYBE (in the exact same way that somebody reading EOTW might think so) but by the end of s2 the whole vibe of the characters & of the dynamic as well as the things moiraine is mentoring rand on and the goals they're trying to accomplish, all of that is so vastly different from gandalf and frodo - in large part BECAUSE they made moiraine a viewpoint character and fleshed her out as more than just the mysterious wizard mentor figure. and even the simple fact of the mentor being a woman (and a gay woman at that) and the mentee being a man is enough of a twist on standard same-gender mentor-mentee fantasy dynamics that you honestly barely even need to change anything else to make it feel fresh (tho ofc the books & show do change plenty of other stuff as well). i've seen a number of show-onlys list "wise wizard mentor being a woman instead of a man" as an initial unique selling point that got them to tune into the show, so clearly they aren't feeling that this mentorship dynamic is trite and tired and same-y.

ostensibly, an argument like this is concerned about show-onlys; readers already know what rand & moiraine's dynamic is like, so if a reader is arguing that the show made it too similar to gandalf & frodo, that means their concern, ostensibly, is that someone who does NOT already know anything about the dynamic wouldn't find it engaging. of course, this subset of readers doesn't actually give a shit about show-onlys' opinions or about the show catering to them and being accessible and enjoyable to them, but ostensibly, this take is worried about the dynamic being able to engage viewers who don't have any book context or knowledge and know only what the show has shown them.

in which case, i'm gonna need readers to actually bother talking to show-onlys and finding out what they think about stuff before making arguments like this, because i highly doubt any show-only is out there thinking that moiraine & rand's dynamic is boring because it's too similar to gandalf & frodo. genuinely, so many bad reader show-takes would be solved if they actually engaged with show-onlys (and show-onlys of a broader spectrum than just "wlw twitter who would jump in a lake if moiraine told them to") and took their input as indicative of how the show is doing at portraying xyz, because so many of the things they complain about the show not conveying properly are things that do, in fact, come across perfectly well to show-onlys. but this take feels less like "i'm genuinely concerned that the moiraine-rand dynamic in the show is not engaging to those who have no prior knowledge of what their dynamic is like" and more like "i've been mad about moiraine being bumped up to primary character level for 3 years and am making up new reasons to explain why it's bad because everybody else has stopped listening to me shouting about the original reasons"

[yandere--stuck]

SNORPY MY BELOVEDD!!!

I am kinda begging for some Snorpy hc please,,, if ya want,,,!!!

I hope these are good! :D

---

💛 Though he was slow to warm up to you at first, your eagerness to help and Chandlo's faith in you cemented yourself as a friend in the Grumpus' eyes. Not to mention that you seemed genuinely helpful and caring toward him. It wasnt often that he'd meet someone who either didnt label him as weird or brush off his paranoia. But, you were so kind and friendly, it made it easy for him to let down his walls... And as such, it's only right that he places a tracking device on you! He's just looking out for you, after all. That's what friends do! This way, he'll be able to locate you no matter where you were and listen in to see if you were in any danger. Goodness knows that some Bugsnax could be rather aggressive, not to mention the looming threat of The Grumpinati around every corner! And if Wiggle's assertions about the Queen of Bugsnax were taken as truth, that makes your safety take even further presidence, what with how much you run around the island. And… Well, Snorpy would be lying if he said that getting another chance to hug you wasn't at least part of why he wanted to bug you. You did feel so warm… And it felt so nice to have you in his arms. So nice, in fact, that he forgot to come up with an excuse, only brought back to reality by the sound of your voice and you squirming out of his hold. He blurted out a goodbye and then quickly scurried off, thankful his fur hid his blush.

📍With you now properly bugged, Snorpy spends his time monitoring your location and listening in on you. A lot of his time. He loves listening to the sound of your voice, talking to yourself or to the bugsnax (cooing to them to come closer to a trap or shouting at them to come back when they run away), it's music to his ears! He finds that listening to you eases his worries and quells his anxiety. Honestly, he could listen to you endlessly and probably never tire of it. However, one thing that did bother him was whenever any of the others would talk to you or ask for favors. The thought of the others talking to you… It made Snorpy bare his teeth in frustration and anger. Couldn't they just leave you alone? This was his and your time together!... Even if you weren't actually aware of it. As much as he had grown to consider the other Snaxburg residents, you didn't know them as well as he did! You needed to be more careful! What if someone with ill intentions tried to trick you and you took it at face value? Snorpy had to be there to protect you! So, of course, the most reasonable and best course of action would be to creep into your hut at night to watch over you as you sleep and place cameras all over your room.

💛 Speaking of cameras, he loved saving and taking pictures of you. If he weren't so paranoid over potential blackmail, he'd ask Beffica to take more pictures of you from better angles in exchange for some Snakpods. After all, is that not what good researchers do? This is just research, yes. That's all. He's far too terrified of being exposed, though (even if he's doing nothing wrong, not at all), so his growing stash of pictures from inside your hut and audio logs of your voice will have to do. He's looked and listened to them over and over, so many times, that your words and visage are surely burned into his mind forever… And oddly, the thought makes Snorpy feel so at peace. Usually, even at his happiest, Snorpy still has to constantly fight back the urge to worry or overthink, but with you, all his neuroses just melt away. The feeling is so relieving, so calming, that he can't imagine going back to that, can't imagine losing you. He doesn't ever want to feel like he did without you ever again.

📍So, to say he freaks out when you and the others head for The Isle of Bigsnax, that would be an understatement. He can barely control his breathing. He's near inconsolable, none of the remaining Grumpuses either want to or are able to comfort him. Can't talk to you, can't see you, can't hear you, can't know if you're alright or not. How is he supposed to survive? If- if something happened to you, he didn't know what he'd do! How could he go on?! One of the few friends he had, someone he cared about, someone he needed, gone! For three days, he goes without you. For three days, he is a shell of himself. For three night, he sneaks out in the dark to your hut and sleeps in your beds, curling up in your blanket, trying to take in your scent and imagine your warmth as if you were there with him. Maybe it makes him a bad person, but he couldn't care less about what happened to Shelda, or Dr. Lottablog, or even Floofty. As long as you and Chandlo came back safe and sound, that's all that mattered. The moment you dock back on Simmering Springs, you and Chandlo are practically tackled by Snorpy. The yellow grumpus almost refuses to part from you the rest of your stay on the island, either begging you to stay in Snaxburg instead of exploring the island or reluctantly letting you leave while making you promise him you won't be hurt.

💛 Taking advantage of his time with you and to continue his "research", Snorpy asks you at length about your interests, your life, your likes and dislikes, your opinions on the others in town (and if you have an affinity for anyone in particular, heh). It's only right! After all, hadn't you questioned him in the same manner? He's just trying to be a good friend. He hangs on to your every word, eyes shining with delight, urging you continue or extrapolate further. With each session and piece of information revealed, he'll record it in his notes word-for-word through audio playback. He even makes another conspiracy board all dedicated to you! Well, Snorpy thinks of it as less of a conspiracy board and more of a shrine to you. However, his delight at getting closer to you is soon replaced with grief and terror as the island begins falling apart. The bugsnax begins to attack and he barely holds himself together as he and Chandlo defend the town and themselves. You had run off with Filbo and Eggabell to who knows where! They couldn't protect you like he can! He's only calmed when he sees you and Filbo running toward the ship they had all piled into to flee the island, the both of you clambering on just as the ship takes off. In your desperation, you had lost your footing and tripped right into Snorpy's arms. The sheer relief and warmth and love the Grumpus felt was overwhelming, Snorpy nearly crying as he held you safe in his arms. Soft purrs rumbled in his chest as he held you. He would never let you go again. Never.

📍It really was such a shame that all his research had been destroyed after the fall of Snaktooth. Snorpy was never one to take defeat easily, though. His devotion to you made restoring his notes a breeze. And you inviting him over to his house made bugging your abode all the more easier - not to mention making maps of the floor plan and sneaking some keepsakes that he was sure you wouldn't miss. Fret not, though! He'd return them, eventually, when he moved in! It only made sense. Now that you were back on the mainland, the threat of The Grumpinati was even more present than before! You were something special, and The Grumpinati and any loathsome interloper were sure to see that. It was up to Snorpy to protect you. After getting your schedule down to a T, his plan could begin. He'd sneak in at night, having a copy of your key made without your knowing. He'd tie you up in your sleep (holding back from hugging or Cuddling you again) to keep you safe and restrained for the time being. Then, He'd be quick and quiet as he moved in his stuff to cement the move. There. It was perfect. You were finally safe. Snorpy was here to protect and take care of you forever. Just as you protected and soothed him just by being you, by being his friend. Because he could tell - you loved him. Just as much as he loved you.

[minetteskvareninova]

Minette watches Medici, part 18 (The Ten)

-*sigh* Do I have to? You know the drill. The writing is poor, there's too much exposition, Lorenzo is Gary Stu, the show worships the ground Medici family walks on, Riario is a villain with little nuance or charisma... Man. I am so tired of this show, you can't even imagine.

-First I'd like to note that there are a lot of things where I have to just nod along and be like "sounds legit", particularly when it comes to war tactics. I am not a military history person, what can I say. I absolutely do not understand that shit.

-Riario isn't exactly endearing himself to me. Oh, he thinks he's cute with his requests to turn over one's own dagger. Oh, he folds after one well articulated argument from his wife and possibly the sight of her not even that well showcased tits. Oh, he still acts aggressively towards her while admitting her arguments are valid because he's an insecure manbaby. Oh, instead of shanking Lorenzo en route to the country villa, he sends the assassins to said villa to massacre the whole family, because that's totally necessary. I remain unamused.

-On the other hand, I cherish every appearance from Caterina Sforza, not because she's that great of a character, but because the historical person was pretty dope and Rose Williams is insanely hot. I still hope she'll do at least something cool in the remaining episodes.

-The attack on the villa was laaame! Five minutes of cheap tension and action that makes an average Michael Bay flick look coherent. I am still baffled where the dudes that helped out Lorenzo came from and how many there actually were.

-Equally eyeroll-inducing is Bernardi, whose sole purpose seems to be acting as the bad angel on Lorenzo's shoulder. I mean, at least he has an interesting personality and the decency to be subtle in his relative villainy, but still. He steals some of the moral ambiguity from Lorenzo, and I for one think that's an unforgivable crime. I still don't know what to make of his crush on Lucrezia T, let's just wait and see where they are going with this...

-Speaking of Lucrezias - Lucrezia D came back... Only to ineffectually appeal to her husband (who apparently STILL has no idea she's been banging Lorenzo in the past?) and also inadvertently make Clarice jealous by, like, talking to Lorenzo. I am living off of scraps here, people. Doesn't help that Clarice isn't doing anything that interesting either, like yeah, her charitable activities are cool and all, but that's basically it as far as her character goes so far.

-Giulio leaves me kinda cold. I still don't get what this boy's deal is, other than him being sad and feeling like he doesn't belong. What I mean is that he's a character that has the potential to be interesting, but the show so far doesn't bother developing him. I do hope that we get more of him bonding with Carlo, though. That could be fun.

-Obligatory Leonardo da Vinci cameo! Yay! *deep sigh* Well, at least they portray him in a semi-interesting way and try to showcase his unconventional opinions. Still, this kind of cameo makes me greatly appreciate the complex characterization of Sandro Boticelli. Honestly, Sandro in general is slowly growing on me as a character, the whole "raised by the Medici" nonsense notwithstanding.

-Lorenzo's Ivan the Terrible gambit was admittedly pretty clever, even if it did reek of a man who just absolutely cannot stand that he's not getting his way, which again would be a nice character flaw if it was intentional, but it isn't, so again, fuck this godforsaken Gary Stu. I can't even properly enjoy how much he suffers in this episode, because so does the rest of his family, including my baby Clarice. For shame. And oh God not again the shit with "maintaining the republic"... *sigh* Okay, I ranted about that all the damn time in the previous Minette watches Medici instalments, let's move on.

-Bianca cameo! Yay! ...I would say if I gave a shit about Bianca, or if she did something interesting, but I don't and she doesn't, so. Her lame husband isn't anywhere to be seen, presumably because he's running around Middle Earth trying to fuck Morfydd Clarke.

-People, I really want to say something positive about this episode, but every one of my opinions that isn't outright hateful comes off kinda half-hearted. I am so, so sorry.

-The one thing I like so far was Savonarola's story, which is surprisingly nuanced and relatively well-written (even if the whole "keeping an infected man in my own apartments" thing is a bit dumb). Even if I am still a bit butthurt over the absence of Pico della Mirandolla. Again, where the fuck is humanism in this renaissance and humanism show?

[laughyoudrecognize]

I have thick, long hair and it has naturally loose curls that are too heavy to curl properly now and theoretically I could have god tier hair but like... why? My routine is to use Pantene shampoo snd conditioner on the daily. And I was worried I was ripping out too much hair with my brush so I got fancy and use a wide tooth comb now. I am constantly being told tips on how to maintian my hair better but what's the point? If it looks decent now, why put all this extra work in an experiment for years to find the right products to make it slightly better?

Honestly though!! It’s too exhausting figuring out what tips are legit and honestly I’m too tired for this. I’m just gonna shampoo and condition and call it a day! None of it makes sense because they all contradict each other! Tbh I truly think even if I did all the things my hair would still be meh, so why bother?

[antivanruffles]

For the Valentine’s Day 💋 (y’all already know which pairing I’m gonna choose lol) so maybe we can get some Cassaric + 39 or 7! Whichever you want, I just love the way you write them 🥹💕

7. I know we're fighting but come here (swoons) 39. Shushing them in the middle of kissing to make them stop talking.

Eyyy, why not both? 😏

_________________________________

The whole thing had gotten so blown out of proportion. It had started with a disagreement that had evolved into an argument which then promptly devolved into a fight.  

Varric couldn't even remember what started it, exactly, only that it had turned into them both airing all the little things that had been annoying them recently until they were left feeling defensive and raw. And she'd only just gotten back from her most recent errand for the Seekers. It seemed a pity to waste all their energy on fighting about stupid shit. They could have a real talk about the shit bothering them later. Much later. 

He found her sulking in the library, which at least was better than the armory. Less access to sharp pointy things. She was nestled by the fire, with a ridiculously plush blanket thrown over her legs that Bran had probably procured for her at one point or another. A book lay open on her lap, but he could see her idly flipping through the pages which meant she wasn't actually reading it. The jut of her lip looked suspiciously like a pout which meant she was moping. 

It also meant he could defuse the situation. 

Varric approached cautiously because he was still likely the last person she wanted to see at the moment. 

"Seeker--"

"No, Varric. I am still mad at you. Go away." 

Her tone lacked any real heat, so Varric took that as a good sign. He stopped by the fireplace, a few feet from her. She was now dangerously close to full on pouting, and that meant she was tired. He was too, honestly. They'd spent the better part of an hour going round and round again before she'd finally stormed off. 

"I'm not here to fight, Cassandra. We can fight later if you really want to, but for now why don't we put aside the petty shit so I can welcome you home properly. Seeing as I never got the chance before."

She didn't acknowledge him, only went back to flipping through her book even through it was obvious she wasn't reading it. Or she had learned to read at the speed of light. Which, he wouldn't put past her, but still. Since she hadn't told him to leave again he decided to press his luck. He crept closer to her, soft footed and slow. 

He stopped beside the chair, waited for just a moment, and then reached out to take her hand in his. "I know we're fighting, but I am glad you're back." Varric lifted her hand up and pressed a warm kiss to the inside of her wrist. 

"You are not winning me over that easily, dwarf." She narrowed her eyes in warning, and amusement. 

"But I can win you over?" He grinned. 

"I did not say that!" 

"Didn't have to." Varric bent his head slightly and hid his laugh against her skin. Then he looked up to meet her gaze again, and noted that her eyes were far lighter than they had been. "Just, c'mere?" 

He tugged gently on her hand to get her to lean forward. She gave in and sat up, letting herself be pulled toward him until their faces were inches apart. Varric cupped her cheek and placed a soft kiss against her lips. He might have said she hummed in appreciation at the contact, but he wasn't going to push his luck and mention it. 

"Hi, welcome back," he said instead. 

"Hi," she whispered. Her eyes were as soft as her smile, but then she seemed to remember herself and frowned at him. "Do not think this means I have forgotten our--"

"Yeah, yeah, you can yell at me tomorrow." He slid his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck and tugged her forward in order to kiss her fully. And to effectively shut her up. "For now," he said between kisses, "just let me show you how much I've missed you." 

[c3p-mo]

.

so I most likely have MS

It could be just something else wrong with my brain or spinal cord still can't be properly seen until late Jan, probably can't get the MRI until Feb but the current symptoms and ones from previous years add up to been having it

optic neuritis and uhthoff’s syndrome is the name for what I've been dealing with since July and it's only now somewhat getting 'better'. I can see much better for much longer but still have blindness nonstop and the daily headaches. For the last two weeks I couldn't be on a phone or see a screen for longer than 5 mins without pain and nonstop flashes. Can't even read too long or my eyes just stop functioning. It's a strange thing to experience. And it's the usual first sign of MS.

I also had a small bad fall last month and it was bad enough that I have a complete ACL tear, so surgery is pending. Seeing the doc about it hopefully soon to gauge time frame

I spent all of November on the couch cuz I can't walk and see properly. I really couldn't do anything but it kinda helped in a way. I'm spitballing that one of my "most likely is MS" triggers is stress, so once my partner came back and I'm not physically alone anymore I withdrew from... everything really.

Logged out of everything, muted and disabled anything with a notification, friends unfortunately (whichever ones I think I have left). But in general I really needed to hit pause, questionable that this was a way to go about it but I do feel less stressed a bit. I mean I have to be slow atm with my leg, it literally hurts to try and play games/be on PC and phone, also too broke to do anything but checkout books at the library(which I like to do anyways) so can't do much; my vision has definitely improved better in the last few weeks than the last four months so tiny lining? I'm honestly only here now cuz I 1. forgot insomnia meds and 2. can watch a stream and touch a keyboard without a painful headache after so long and 3. Can actually SEE

I'm rambling at this point and only for myself really. I just finally feel like myself again for the first time in a very long and newest personal lowest year in my life. I'm so exhausted that I can't even bother with wanting to die atm. Almost funny that my brain is trying to do that for me anyways lol. But I know this one normal moment is brief. i think my headspace will be much better as my appt gets closer and i might get back to my online presence with it but for now I'm still thinking about staying off things help.

I am still very tired of trying to be 'normal' and of trying to function through it all. I'm tired of deteriorating every passing year and masking all the chronic pain with no valid name but now I'm closer to some proper and correct reason for it all. At the very least I can get handicap parking privilege and a true medical weed pass. Maybe an eyepatch would look good on me? Using mobility aids with less guilt? Idk

comforting prospects in hard times

[leopardom]

man what a week

it started like shit with that anon on Monday that sent me into a full breakdown and insecurity crisis

same thing continued on Tuesday and even though i thought getting my hands on my new (refurbished because bitch is not a millionaire) phone would help a bit, it didn’t. and i also got my period and had to go work with the cramps killing me

i slept all day on Wednesday because i was so damn tired both physically and mentally and when i was awake all i did was to cry

on Thursday another wave of insecurity crashed on me and i started questioning the stage of my depression because things lately are not good

and today i thought that work would be the most tiring thing but it wasn’t. all day i’m thinking about everything and nothing at all and wow what a great time to feel like i’m bothering every single soul on earth with my existence. i went to a gig earlier tonight and i thought it would kinda lift my spirits but it didn’t. i was late, i forgot my earplugs home and now my left ear hurts and is ringing, i was all by myself in a crowd full of 40+ year old metalheads and got extremely alert and uncomfortable from a point on so i left after the second support act. and on my way home i realised that the mic on my new refurbished phone is faulty and so is probably the camera and i wanna cry. and all the overthinking about the phone led to me overthinking about everything regarding my life and my choices and my luck etc etc and honestly i just wanna off myself

and to top it all i also came to the realisation that maybe i will need to change therapist because the form of therapy i’m on now has given me everything possible and i feel like i need to dig deeper in myself and my current therapist doesn’t specialise in that type of therapy. and even the thought of changing therapists is exhausting and it’s already draining me.

and now i’m sure my depression worsened again and i’m probably at the stage i was right before getting on meds. and i’m ashamed. i shouldn’t be, but i am. because i was doing better and now i’m to rock bottom again. and i’m alone and i’m scared and i just need someone to hug me and help me or whatever. i don’t want to be like that. i want to be happier, i want to be less insecure and more confident. i want to be someone people will look at and not immediately think “oh poor her” or any sort of thought similar to that. this is gonna sound stupid af, but i also wanna be luckier in life. because life is throwing me so much shit that i can’t handle properly and i feel helpless. and i’m tired

why am i writing this here and not on a journal or something? i don’t know. maybe i wish someone will read it and relate. or tell me things will be alright. maybe i write it here because my irls are too busy with their own lives i’m just afraid to open up to any of them anymore. maybe i write it here because if i regret it later it’s easier to delete a tumblr post than make a sheet of paper disappear forever

[invisiblegarters]

Be My Favorite Ep 11

Last Week: Pear was too decent for anyone in this show, Kwan finally figured out Not is the worst, Kawi and Pisaeng did the do.

This week: my frustration with tumblr is reaching a boiling point, I don't know why I'm even bothering with this when literally no one will even see it. But I truck on because at this point it's habit.

Joy.

Oh interesting, parent meeting about the kiddos. I wonder sometimes if the reason that PIsaeng and Pear were getting married in an alt timeline (at least one of them) is because of these two, but at least in the current one they both seem fairly willing to let their kids be.

And once again, Pear is way nicer than I would be. Mom was selfish. The end. I do get feeling trapped by a life you don't want, but did she not make the decision to be married and have a child? And then she made that child suffer so that she could go off and achieve her dreams, and then had the gall to thank her, to not apologize or appear to feel any remorse for just exiting her life.

But.

But it's probably better for Pear in the long run if she can let go of the bitterness. So for her sake, I'm glad.

Kwan just delete those pics and move on, babe. Not's not worth all this.

So I guess they were going for nerves last week. Clumsily done. So tired of the blushing maiden thing in general, honestly. Can we please retire it forever along with the crazy ex faen trope? Can we please, please, please stop sending the message that one person in the relationship has to be shy and reserved and scared of sex while the other pushes them forward? It's so fucking detrimental, and it just feeds into this idea that to be a "good" girl (or the bottom in BL, because it's always the bottom isn't it? sigh) you can't actually desire sex, can't want it, or you can want it but you also have to pretend not to because good girls don't (but I do). And I'm so so tired of it. SO tired. People have enough hang ups about sex all on their own without media reinforcing this bullshit.

Last week I said that I would hesitantly trust this show with an asexual storyline. I want to take that back now. My trust is revoked, you couldn't handle it properly, show. There's literally nothing wrong with being hesitant about sleeping with someone for the first time (or not wanting to sleep with anyone at all), but there's a way to do it and this show...did not.

Well that theory that the old man is future!Kawi is certainly looking more correct. How else would he know to show up and scold him.

I know how you can get rich, Kawi. Be Pisaeng's sugar baby.

Okay sir, hush your face about in-depth analysis. I am feeling very called out right now.

Yesss thank you dude. It's like with dad. Kawi couldn't prevent his death because he was always going to go. Dad's death is a fixed point. But what Kawi could do - what he finally did do - was fix his relationship with him. He opened up, he told his dad he loves him, he did the work.

Alrighty so we're flashbacking through the rest of college now? This is weird, especially after going through everything else so slowly (if they fast fowarded through a Not redemption I will throw the most massive fit (and for once be glad for this stupid shadowban, since then no one will see the massive tantrum)). If you've done all you meant to why are you not going back to the future (heh) Kawi?

Why is he still asking this question?

And now we're montaging through living together. This ep is turning into the Oprah of montages - and you get a montage! And you get a montage. This makes me more certain than ever that Pisaeng has been doing his own time traveling. The domesticity is cute though.

Pear and Kwan arrived to Christmas together! Still shipping it even though I know it won't come true. Sigh. At least Not isn't at the table. For a hot second I thought he was, that Pear was hugging him, and I almost lost it. But nope, it was Kawi lol. I was about to throw down with this show.

Do NOT test me show I am not in the mood.

Fifteenth time's the charm, eh, Pearmei? Granted it's not like you know that since you don't remember all the timelines, but still.

Me the second I see Pisaeng pulling out those pills: are they gonna kill him off? Would they do that?

Why is this where my brain goes? I mean, it was instant. Just, BOOM are they killing Pisaeng.

Ah, the good old wipe them down when they're sick trope. Good times.

"Do you think I'll die?" Pffft, me and Pisaeng are on the same wavelength. But also maybe don't tease Kawi like that the dude has several issues around his loved ones dying okay. Don't make him pull out that music box, Pisaeng.

HAHAHA is that the first grey hair oh noooo! Fun fact: my sis found her first one when she was like 22. She was not best pleased.

Oh no all this joking about Pisaeng dying but is it going to be Kawi instead? And why do I keep expecting death? People get ill, self.

Ugh, yes, the harsh realities of having no rights regarding the partner you've lived with for years - rights that would be given by default to a straight couple. God I hate it, but I'm happy to see this drum being banged. Because it should be.

Poor Pisaeng. So maybe he didn't travel in time before, but he sure as hell is going to now, because I think Kawi is actually going to die. Or Pisaeng is going to be so terrified of it happening that he can't help himself. But to change it or to make sure it never happens by cutting himself off from Kawi before it can? And then staying in the closet, going abroad, marrying Pear?

Because I truly think that he'd lock them all into a shitty future just to save Kawi's life.

Well at least he tells Kawi what happened.

Have to say, the end part saved this ep for me. I don't know if it's just that I'm already kind of pissed off (thanks tumblr!) or if this ep just started off rough, but I was not feeling it at the beginning. I really want to like this show all the way through. Please don't screw it up in the final hour. Please.

[justablah56]

I wrote a thing :)

read it on Ao3 here

Sooo, have this little analogical roommates au that I decided to make up for this one specific oneshot (unless people like this au and want me to write more for it) !! Little bit of context, in this au all the sides are roommates, don't ask me how it works unless you want my very specific way that it looks and works out in my head so there's that. I'm just writing about these two gay dumbasses because them <3 :)

There's no trigger warnings for this fic, it's all fluff today. and for a bit of mostly irrelevant info, I have decided that Logan gets to be 5' 4 and Virgil gets to be 6' 5. because fuck you, tall Virgil and short Logan rights. also Virgil is definitely a tummy appreciator, and Logan just happens to have a tummy, I don't make the rules. and as per usual in my fics, Virgil uses they/them pronouns :)

Logan woke up groggy and exhausted. He had stayed up probably a little too late last night, and now his brain wouldn't even give him the mercy of sleeping in. Rather, it had woken him up earlier than normal. 4:03 in the morning to be exact, having gone to sleep not even 2 hours previously. 

In summary, Logan was miserable. He even tried to go back to sleep, but after 27 minutes it was evident that it wasn't going to happen, so he decided it was about time he actually woke up.

He got up, slipping his glasses on, but not bothering to put on a shirt or change out of his baggy grey sweatpants. After all, it wasn't like anyone else was going to be awake this early.

He left his room for the kitchen to make some coffee for himself with the hopes that it would give him the energy to function properly.

After his coffee was done, he sat himself down on one of the chairs in front of the counter. Zoning out and just barely aware of anything else that was happening around him other than the steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

His mug was half empty before he really started to gain consciousness, and he noticed that there was something on the chair he was sitting on. He really only noticed since the chair, which usually was quite uncomfortable honestly, was now... not uncomfortable?

Whatever it was, it was pretty warm. And soft. And it smelled quite nice now that he thought about it. 

He was still tired enough that this didn't register to his sleep deprived brain as anything important enough to divert actual thought into. So, of course, he continued drinking his coffee and just enjoying the comforting smell, feeling relaxed and content. 

Virgil on the other hand, woke up that morning, feeling... off. They weren't sure exactly why. Well, that wasn't particularly unusual, being anxiety they often felt like something was wrong. But hey, if it was anything important they were sure they'd figure it out.

They got up out of bed, and then they realized what was wrong. Their hoodie was not hanging up where they always made sure to put it before bed. Fuck, this was not good. Not only were they going to be cold all day, but they wouldn't have their hoodie. And that also meant that they'd have to ask the others if any of them had seen it.

Well, wait a minute, no it didn't. They could find it themself. They always woke up earlier than everyone else, so maybe, just maybe, they'd be able to find it before anyone else woke up. It was still only 5 am, so they had two-to-three hours before anyone else was due to wake up, assuming everyone else didn't suddenly decide to differentiate from their usual schedule.

They would start with their room obviously, it was the most likely place after all, and then they would check the living room, and they could work it out after that. It was unlikely that it was anywhere else, really. There weren't a lot of places they was comfortable taking his hoodie off.

Well, they might as well start looking, it's not like the hoodie would find itself.

It wasn't until Logan had finished his coffee 30 minutes later that his brain finally caught up to his unusually comfortable chair and decided to actually look and see what he was sitting on. He turned back to see... Virgil's jacket?

What was that doing here? Virgil never went anywhere without their jacket, it was unlike them to just leave it lying around. They must've just forgotten it. Somehow. Virgil never just forgot their hoodie, Logan had never even seen them without it on! Something must've happened.

Well... Virgil would likely want to know where their jacket was when they woke up, so Logan should keep it on him, right? It was purely so that Virgil could get their hoodie back as quickly as possible. Obviously. 

And therefore, it would only make sense for him to just wear it, then he wouldn't misplace it and he could just give it to Virgil once they woke up! Yes, that's what he would do, it was a perfectly great plan with no alternative motives. Of course.

Logan sighed. Well, there was no point in attempting to reason himself into believing that there was a decent reason he wanted to put on the hoodie, he knew why (though hed never admit it, of course) and he also knew he was going to do it anyway, so there was no point trying to give it an explanation. 

He slipped the hoodie over his shoulders was immediately struck by how warm it was. Virgil must've had some sort of heating mechanism in it to keep it that way if it was still warm after being left out all night (presumably). That thought was immediately followed by how good it smelled. It didn't really have a discernable smell, other than just... Virgil.

No no. None of that. Just because he didn't have the optimum amount of sleep didn't mean he had to get all... feelings-y. So the next reasonable thing to do was continue with his morning routine. After all, waking up early doesn't mean he gets to mess up his whole schedule. Meaning that he had to get up from the counter to continue with his morning routine. 

He dragged himself out of the chair, not bothering to zip up the jacket, but he did bother pulling the sleeve over his hand and bringing it to his nose to get another smell of the hoodie. Of Virgil. No. Stop. It didn't have anything to do with it smelling like Virgil specifically, it just smelled good. Virgil just (objectively) smelled good! It's an objective fact that Logan has no biases toward. Obviously. 

The next thing he realized upon getting up from his chair was how big Virgil's hoodie was on him. Virgil already liked wearing large clothes, not to mention the fact that they were by no means short, standing a good foot or so taller than Logan himself. So putting those facts together meant that the hoodie went just above his knees, effectively keeping his bare torso warm (which was the only reason his face was red, thank you very much).

He then rinsed out his coffee mug, and started some toast. After all, breakfast was an important part of one's day. He really should've started it when he started his coffee like he did normally, but given that normally he didn't only get 2 hours of sleep, he felt he had at least a bit of leeway. 

A few minutes later his toast popped up and Logan got the jelly out to put on it. He rolled up the sleeves on Virgil's jacket, it would do no good to get jelly on their jacket of course, and quickly prepared his little breakfast.

After he finished the slice of toast he made a quick stop by his room for a book to read for the next hour or so. Seeing as most of today's schedule depended on the others being able to help, he might as well use this free time to do something he actually enjoys.

He settled himself on the couch against one of the armrests and began to read.

Fuck. Virgil had spent the last hour checking every nook and cranny of their room and, lo and behold, their hoodie was nowhere to be found. Which meant, that they now had to go outside their room to search for it, with only one more hour to check the rest of the mindscape before everyone was supposed to wake up.

Well. They'd better hurry then. They pulled a shirt on, and slipped out their door towards the commons. 

The sight they were met with as they reached the top of the stairs was enough to stop them in their tracks.

Right there. On the couch. Was Logan. Wearing their hoodie. Now, if it had been literally anyone else, Virgil would undoubtedly be at least a bit upset, but when it came to Logan, all they could do was stare as they felt their face heat up. 

Logan was curled up leaning against the arm of the couch, one hoodie-concealed hand pressed to his face, the other holding his book open. And as if just the sight of Logan drowning in their hoodie wasn't enough to leave them a gay mess, he didn't have a shirt on. 

At this point in time Virgil would like to pride themself on not passing out, because it was then that Logan seemed to deem it time to stop reading. He put in his bookmark and proceeded to stretch his arms up over his head, closing his eyes and yawning as Virgil's hoodie slipped over his bare chest.

Virgil's eyes went wide and were immediately drawn to the small pouch that was Logan's stomach. Goddamn it- why did Logan have to be so fucking cute and why did Virgil have to be so fucking gay.

It was then that Logan relaxed his arms and opened his eyes. Which wasn't the best thing when Virgil was currently standing completely and utterly still, enamored with just Logan, within Logan's vision field now that he wasn't focused on his book.

After Logan had finished a couple chapters, he decided that he should probably actually go get dressed. After all, he couldn't just wait for everyone else to wake up and see him half naked in Virgil's hoodie, he had a reputation. And now that he was properly awake, he probably shouldn't be wearing Virgil's hoodie whenever they decided to wake up, they were awfully touchy with their hoodie.

However, it appeared that he was just a bit too late- for as he stretched in preparation for getting up, he looked up to see who else? But Virgil themself standing at the top of the stairs, face red, eyes wide, and staring directly at Logan. 

Well, not directly. Not his eyes, anyway. No, Virgil's eyes were focused, quite intently he might add, on Logan's stomach. 

Logan immediately flushed and went to cover his bare torso with the hoodie, only to remember that the hoodie belonged to the very person right in front of him, struggling to get out of the hoodie to give it to them.

Logan looked back up to see Virgil's eyes had flicked up to Logan's as soon as Logan had moved to cover himself.

"Sh-shit sorry- I was- I was going to give it back when you woke up, I swear-" Logan began to stutter out.

It was then that they interrupted him with their own apology, "No- fuck- I, I - I didn't mean to- to stare or anything I just-"

They brought their hands up to cover their steadily reddening face as they quickly glanced away from him again, pointedly looking at the wall behind him.

After just a few moments of awkward (and very gay) silence and avoided eye contact from both of them,

"Erm- Virgil. You could- W- Would you like to have your hoodie back?" Logan asked hesitantly, beginning to take off the jacket, assuming their answer.

"Oh! Um," Virgil's gaze landed back on Logan's for a moment, "Yes? Well- no- you actually look really fucking cute in my hoodie and ohmyfuck I don't know why I just said that-" they rushed the last bit out, sounding absolutely mortified at what Logan was pretty sure they had just confessed.

Logan froze, "Y- Wait. What? I- You. think I'm cute?"

Virgil once again removed their hands from their still blazing face, "Er- Yes? I mean, have you seen yourself? Anyone who doesn't think you're cute is either blind or lying, so-" 

"Virgil." Logan started, gaining some hidden confidence from god knows where as he took a few steps towards the stairs that Virgil was still standing atop. Perhaps he had been embolden by Virgil's words, or maybe it was just that Virgil had been the one to say them, but regardless whatever his brain decided to do with this newfound confidence, it was likely going to end up being overly blunt.

Virgil looked down at him, now looking a bit confused along with their flushed face. "Um. Yes, Logan?" they asked.

Logan stepped up the rest of the stairs until he had reached the top. "Kiss me?" he asked, looking up and hesitantly reaching for Virgil's hand.

Virgil froze, face going blank for a moment just long enough for Logan to doubt his ability to assess the current situation, before breaking out into a grin and answering with a "God yes." as they grabbed Logan's hand in one of theirs and wrapped their other arm around Logan as they leaned far enough down to press their lips against his own.

[truly-morgan]

[Kinktober 2021: Cock Warming (18+)]

SongXue | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 04-10-2021

Day 4: B̷i̷m̷b̷o̷f̷i̷c̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ / [CockWarming] / C̷o̷l̷l̷a̷r̷i̷n̷g̷

Song lan has a report due tomorrow, but of course, Xue Yang cannot wait until he's done to be horny. So, he finds a middle ground.

====

Xue Yang started wriggling a bit again until he yelps and moaned when a hand landed on his butt with a slap, making him stop again as he buried his face into Song Lan neck again. “Stop moving around or I cannot work properly” he warned him.

“But you’ve been working on this for the past hour” xy whined, moving his ass again to get some friction only for a sharper slap to land on his ass, a quiet “behave” being murmured in his ear.

“If you could stop distracting me every five minutes, I could finish my report” sl pointed out as he kept typing on his computer. Really, he was not the one who started all this, he had made it pretty clear to xy that he would be busy for the next couple of hours because he had an important and sudden report due the next day.

Yet, of course, he couldn’t behave. 

Xy had instead started to tease him, distracting him from what he was supposed to do, trying to get his attention. After thirty minutes sl simply got tired of this, pulling xy onto his lap the next time he was close to him trying to tease him. “If you are so hungry for my cock, why don’t you sit on it until I can properly fuck you until you cannot think anymore?” he asked, knowing it was a deal when he saw the illumination in xy eyes.

It took seconds before xy was stripped from the little clothes he still had one, freeing sl already half harden cock. He strokes it to full erection before taking a seat in sl’s lap, facing towards him so he could hug his large torso and reset on his shoulder.

Xy thought sl had finally accepted because he was nearly done, how wrong he had been of assuming so. What felt like hours had passed and he was still warming his lover’s cock. His own erection would come and go, sometimes teased by himself until he was punished with a slap on the ass again, other times because when he would move around a bit simply to sit more comfortably it would make the dick inside him brush against his sweet spot (which also gained him punishing slaps on the butt).

So, he had been sitting there for the past two hours, warming sl cock which was filling him, which was a rather nice feeling. But xy was starting to lose the last of his patience and he couldn’t even move away because sl was blocking him here (and honestly, he didn’t want to test if sl would refuse him his deserved fuck if he did).

“song-ge” he whined against his neck, kissing it and purposefully leaving marks on it. He continued his task of ruining his neck, until he suddenly grabbed at sl when the chair moves out of nowhere.

He looked up at sl surprised and confused. “I am done,” sl said, clearly looking like he too couldn’t fully keep going after xy was around him all this time.

Xy yelped a bit when he was lifted up (but still with sl sheathed deep in him) before nearly being slammed against the wall, his legs wrapping around his waist quickly. “Finally,” he said with a moan as sl started to trust quickly and deep in him.

It felt so good finally getting properly fuck after Cock warming him for so long. Maybe xy would plan to bother sl again for him to let him do the same again.

====

(xy is one impatient little gremlin 🤭 everything to drive sl horny even when he has important work

dropping it early today because I have shit to do all day )

Original - AO3

[hashtag-xolo]

Do you have any other favorite dog breeds apart from xolos and how do they differ from them?

Oh yes, yes I do. I will divide this by breeds I like that I've met substantially in person and breeds I am deeply interested in but have yet to handle myself or meet.

So the ones I've met and love in no particular order:

Standard poodles - the least graceful and elegant symbols of refinery I've ever met. I love their personalities. Similarly picky palates as xolos, similarly intelligent and easily bored. Similarly Velcro. The difference is a xolo must be touching you but doesn't have to be involved in the activity whereas a poodle must be doing the activity too or else why bother with doing it is not focused on the poodle? Poodles overall are less dog selective than xolos and typically lower prey drive. Poodles prefer brain games more than xolos do.

Rhodesian Ridgeback: love the Ridgeback dogs. Love their temperament, love that they can be an absolute couch potato at times. Love that they're more aloof but not aggressive with strangers just because I am an introvert and I prefer my dogs not want to say hi to everyone. I love that they are very one person dogs like xolos are.

Chihuahuas: I love tiny companion dog. Good for snuggles. Compact for travel. So sweet and affectionate. Love tiny dogs. Honestly the biggest difference is a properly socialized Chihuahua is much less aloof than a xolo is in general. Chihuahua dogs need less activity than a xolo especially a younger one needs. Overall easier to tire out and be a couch potato than a xolo.

No personal experience but dogs I love in concept so far:

Schnauzers: I love terrier temperament. I love schnauzer temperament. I would love a standard or giant schnauzer okay. Tough as nails relentless dogs yes please. Love the look. Not as fond of coat texture. But love the temperament.

Irish Water Spaniels: smart, driven, loyal. Sound like a less socially driven poodle or golden and I love the idea. Similarly known for being clownish and mischievous like a xolo.

Honorable mention:

Malinois: there's a part of me that really desperately wants to experience getting to raise, train, and work a malinois for the intensity of the breed. But the coat is a no go with my fiance because we really need no shedding dogs