#excessive use of exclamation marks

[arsynnotarson]

excessive use of exclamation marks below

I LOVE TRANSIDS!!!!!! I LOVE TRANSIDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ANTIS CAN SUCK MY DICK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YALL!!!!!!!!! GROUP HUG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKK!!!!!

[risingashescomic]

Hello everyone!

Rising Ashes is getting a Comic Dub! I can't take any credit for this as it was Zero who approached me asking for permission to create it. I'm super excited to see this project! I never thought that this comic would get dubbed, but now it's happening!

Right now, they're having a casting call for voice actors and video editors! The link for that is here if you're interested in auditioning! The deadline is January 27th.

[silvrash-797]

Intro post!

I had one of these, but it got buried 🫤

Welcome! You can call me Ash, Silv, or any other variation on my username.

I live in the Treehouse as part of the Hurricane family! My mom is @/milkyplier and my twin sister is @/theecholegend

@guildknight-03 and I are parents of three! They get mentioned on here frequently enough that they have their own tag: #kid quotes. Their nicknames (affectionately given by Milkyplier) are Birdie (6yo girl), Ember (4yo girl) and Leaf (8-month-old boy)

I write! The tag is #SilvrAsh writes. It's all LOZ and Linked Universe fanfiction, and I cross-post here and on my ao3

Febuwhump 2024 Masterpost

Febuwhump 2025 Masterpost

Current project(s): Gloomstruck (Whumptober 2024 fic), Febuwhump 2025 prompt list

Shameless plug time! My husband also writes! Check out his series Hunter's Resolve if you like Monster Hunter self-insert fics!

(Infrequently) I draw! You can find anything I draw under the tag #SilvrAsh draws

I do a lot of reblogging, and the occasional original post. For organizational purposes, the funny things I want to show my family are tagged either #show them later or #🤣🤣🤣. Original posts are under #Ash speaks

My ask box is open, but be advised that there is likely to be a several week turnaround because my brain is short-staffed 🫠 and forgets it exists XD

Please refrain from sending NSFW content. Otherwise, welcome new friends, and enjoy!

[seylaaurora]

On the rewatch the good omens season 2 ending is still killing me

THEY ARE ON THE SAME PAGE! They love each other and want to spend the rest of time with each other!

They are both presenting their version of a happy ending for the both of them to each other! And they're not seeing it!!!

[sga-owns-my-soul]

hey i heard you like to hype people up! im putting my art stuff in a new store and im really nervous about it and could use some hype 😊

!!!!!!!!! omg anon holy shit that's so cool!!!!!!!! i'm so proud of you that's amazing!!!!! i hope people love your art (which i'm sure they will) and that you sell lots of art!!!!! good luck, you're gonna absolutely crush it!!!!!!

(and even if you don't sell much or anything that's still okay bc it's huge that you're putting your stuff in a store!!! that's so cool and i'm so proud of you!!!!! it takes so much work to do something like that and you should be so proud of yourself for putting yourself out there!!!!!)

[trashburgersblair]

For the mech asks, 18, 19, and 12!

!!!

12. It's hard to pick just one, so I'll list a few favorites (these are all fun romantic or otherwise) Jonny and Ashes, Raphaella and Ivy, and prison mechs!

18. Raphaella la Cognitzi! I love her voice so much, I love how it switches from deep to high

19. This is one is a mix between raphaella and ashes. They are both so!!! Raphaella voice and general unethical science shenanigans are just goles. And Ashes! Just Ashes! They are gorgeous and aaaaaa!

[1tspcinnamon]

arabic authors use punctuation consistently and in a way that makes sense challenge (impossible)

[fwrails]

hot girls love excessively using exclamation marks !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[umamaki]

FUCK THIS CLUB UP ! sylus x reader

PROLOGUE. wc 0.4k

series masterlist

It’s dusk when you spot the flyer on the wet sidewalk below your feet. It would’ve been hard to miss; the image of bright red heels in the background and the currency symbols that littered the page, despite having been soaked by the mornings rain, miraculously stood out.

You should’ve kept walking home. You had already stayed late, worked overtime. It’s probably the fourth day in a row that you've done so, but you can’t say for sure. You’d lost count of it all. 

The diner itself already had been shitty long before you began working there. The food is dry and the drinks are flat. Now you know it for its shitty hours and shitty pay. You know that the circles under your eyes are from its customers and the never-ending itch on your arms are from its cheap uniform. 

But it was still a job, and at the only place that would take someone with an essentially empty resume. It had never dawned on you to leave the one thing that allowed you to keep the lights on at home. 

You should’ve kept walking home, but there’s something alluring about what you’re being offered. There’s an address printed below the advertisement header and no additional information.

EXOTIC DANCERS WANTED!!! NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED!!!

The exclamation marks seemed a excessive, sure. But fuck. You could really use the money. 

Other ads are scattered around where you stood. It’s almost laughable that you had picked up the one request for an exotic dancer out of all those that were looking for a dog walker or algebra tutor. 

It has to be a trap. This is how people get killed. 

Even still, your curiosity defeats your reluctance to give in.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you type in the address. Fortunately, it’s only a seven minute walk to get there. Unfortunately, it’s only a seven minute walk to get there. Plenty of time to think about what the hell you could be getting yourself into. 

You could still continue home instead, but it’s not like there’s anything to do there. Nothing to eat. 

The fridge would be as empty as it was when you checked it this morning and you don’t need to check your bank account to know that it follows the same fate. 

It’s only seven minutes. So you memorize the route and turn off your phone.

[bratbarzal]

OR, and feel free to skip, obviously!!!

“c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” with Poppy and Nico pre-On Your Side?

✩‧₊˚ bratbarzal's valentines event!˚₊‧✩

4. “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.” WITH PRE OYS NICO AND POPPY THE DREAM REQUEST!!!! ILYSM FOR THIS

"You don't look like you're dying," Poppy hears the hum of a low voice muse, all too lost in her work until she looks up from her computer to see those familiar dark eyes gleaming back at her from across her desk.

She smiles up at Nico, tight lipped and guilty at the sight of the slight pants of breath he is taking - obviously having run over from wherever else in the Rock he might have been.

Sending an SOS text with thirteen exclamation marks might have been a little excessive, but it had felt necessary at the time - and hey, he might have even broken some sort of world record, she only sent it a few minutes ago.

"Hi," she says, tone sweet and smile even sweeter, now. "Thanks for coming."

"You can't abuse SOS texts, Poppy," he huffs, lowering himself onto the edge of her desk, "If you did that in the military, you'd be dishonourably discharged."

"Good thing we're not in the military, then."

"Speak for yourself," he grumbles.

"You're hardly G.I. Joe, Nico." Poppy scoffs, "We both know you really did your service to get pictures for your dating apps."

"You're the one who told me to use them," he leans over to flick at her shoulder playfully, "What do you want?"

She wants to immediately rid herself of the thoughts of him in those photos - looking all official and handsome, but unfortunately it isn't that easy. "Uhh," she drags out while she tries to get her momentum back, shifting awkwardly in her spinny chair in the middle of her cubby and telling herself that friends don't think of friends in uniform like that. "I need a favour."

"And you had to give me a heart attack to ask for it?"

"I thought you were the embodiment of physical health?" she chimes back, shaking her head to get it back in the game, "Doesn't matter, you're not distracting me again. You know Michael, the guy who's office that is," Poppy points to the office in the corner - one of the nicest on the floor, with a window in the corner and it's own private bathroom. "He handed in his resignation this morning, and Elaine is dividing his projects out to all us lowly cubby losers."

"You're not a cubby loser-,"

"I am, and I'm okay with it, because I have a way out."

"Let me guess, I'm your way out?"

"Let's not get an ego about it," she scoffs, "But yes. One of his projects is Hockey In New Jersey, you know with all the cute kids? And I want it. And if I can go to her and tell her I convinced the team captain to get involved, then I'm a shoe in for it. Which means I'm a shoe in for that prime piece of real estate in the corner over there."

"I see," he hums, lips twisting as he watches the passion for her job consume her - sees the determination in her eyes, and the unwavering confidence that the 13 foot by 13 foot space on the other side of the floor will be hers.

"So the favour is that you agree to come with me to one of the rinks next Thursday, and we do a bunch of cool sessions and get some really great photos for the website," she gestures with her hands as if trying to guide him through the concept, and the amusement never shifts from his gaze, "And I know that it's technically your day off, and the last thing you probably want is to be in work mode, especially around a bunch of kids, but-,"

"Poppy," Nico chuckles, cutting her off with a quick press of his hand to her forearm, the touch startling her into immediate silence, staring at him with her mouth agape, "It's fine, I'll do it."

"Really?" She asks, to which he just nods in return, a soft smile like it's really no skin off his back to agree. "I was about to offer to bribe Jess to stay away from you for all other media activity for the next month."

"C'mon," he snorts, "Like I need an excuse to spend time with you. This can be my Valentines present for this year." He shrugs, like the concept of the two of them exchanging gifts for Valentines Day of all holidays is no big deal. Like that's something that just friends do.

Poppy hadn't even realised that next Thursday is Valentines Day, a flush suddenly rising up her neck as she thinks about the implications - but he hadn't seemed too disturbed by the idea, so probably best not to bring it up.

"We get each other presents for Valentines, now?" She leans onto her elbows on her desk, looking up at him as he gives one of those slow smiles back, cheeks dimpling and lips stretching softly.

"I've been getting you Valentines presents for the last two years, Mohn," he twists a little from his position atop the edge of her desk - the movement causing the pens in her pot to rattle, and Poppy can see one of her co-workers looking over from the corner of her eye. She can't wait to get this project out of the way - to solidify herself on the team enough that she's entrusted with her own office, because meet-ups like this with Nico are hard when there's little to no privacy.

"I think I'd know if we were exchanging gifts, Nico." she scoffs.

"I didn't say exchanging," he mimics her fondly, "I said I've been getting them for you."

She frowns, trying to think back to the previous couple of years, and anything Nico might have given her around this time.

She usually spends Valentines with her girls - she hasn't really had a serious boyfriend in a while, especially not one that stays around for the holidays - and the only thing she can think of is the heart-shaped heating pad Nia had given her last year.

Nico picks a pen from Poppy's pot and taps it against the side of her mug, the one that says I Heart NJ that she keeps in the office and drinks out of every day. The mug that Nico had brought her a drink of tea in last year when she was a little under the weather, and she had been using ever since.

"Shut up, this was a Valentines gift?" she gasps, lowering her voice so she doesn't garner the attention of Mr Nosey-Pants across the room.

"It has a heart on it, doesn't it?"

Poppy frowns then, staring down at the mug. She didn't even know it was technically from him - just thought it was something he had brought over and she had subsequently claimed as her own.

And now she feels bad - thinking he's been sneaking her gifts this whole time and she's never even spared a thought to getting him anything back.

"We're gonna have to take it in turns now," she huffs, not liking that he has been making an effort to do something for her and she hasn't been doing the same, "Next year, I'm gonna give you the biggest and best Valentines present you've ever gotten in your life, to make up for the years I missed."

"I look forward to it, Mohn." he laughs, lowly, his cheeks dimpling and dark eyes gleaming back at her, nudging at her ankle to shift her attention back from where it had fallen to his smile before he says, "What was it you were saying about no media activity, again?"

[knotst3r1l3]

OK FCUCK HERE.IT IS THE THING THE THING HERE'S THE FTHING..F DAVID. Dave,.......... so sad i cant ,,,,,, in tags btw....

curse these wretched organs vro what the Fuck man !!!!!!!

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

ur my fav writer on heree <33333  could I request Agatha x female reader with they starting as a friends-with-benefits type of relationship

Both fall in love with each other but think they are not reciprocated. Agatha, despite appearing confidence, is afraid of rejection and ruining the relationship that keeps her close to reader so she doesn’t say anything until in one of her “dates” someone flirts with reader and Agatha gets jealous and marks territory.

They discuss and confess their feelings for each other and formalize their relationship and smutty. Can the request have fingering, oral and Agatha using a magic strap? Also: Agatha VERY excited because it’s her first time having sex as an official couple 

💋

pairing: agatha harkness x fem!reader

summary: friends-with-benefits to lovers

content warnings: ooh boy where do i start. smut obvi, choking, jealousy, possessiveness, hickeys, fingering, cunnilingus, strap-on, subspace. oh and a scene where reader gets anxious in a public setting. low-key angst at the beginning, but it gets better!

word count: 6k+

masterlist

A/N: thanks for the request!! i hope u like it hehe, i had fun and wrote more that i thought i would. ur so sweet, thank you! <3

Photo Cred: Me

Mine

Kicking off your shoes, you leaned against your front door, sighing in relief as you took your bag off your shoulders. Blinking in the dim lighting and realizing you’d probably forgotten to leave a lamp on, you stumbled towards the kitchen. Setting your bag down on the counter, you pulled your phone out and sent a quick text to your neighbor as you opened the fridge. 

‘Heyyy, my boss is being a huge dickwad atm. Wanna come over? I could use some stress relief, if ya know what I mean ;)’

Seeing that your neighbor had read your text, you looked up. Squinting slightly against the warm refrigerator light, your eyebrows steadily rose as you took stock of the contents.  Staring in disbelief at your barren fridge, you shot off another text. 

‘Bring food, I forgot to go shopping. Again.’

Closing the fridge, you grabbed a corkscrew as you pulled a bottle of wine from your pantry. Hopping onto the counter, you prepared two glasses while you waited, rubbing at your temples to get rid of the dull ache you’d had ever since your boss had opened his mouth this morning. The sound of a notification rang through your silent kitchen, and you smiled slightly as you read the text from your neighbor. 

‘On My Way!’

Then, another text appeared straight after. 

‘You have to show me how to get rid of that stupid auto correct. I do not use exclamation points.’

Smiling, you sent a text letting her know that the door was unlocked before hopping down from the counter and getting out two plates. While you absentmindedly prepared the table for a late dinner, you found yourself getting more and more excited with every second that passed. 

Honestly, how could you not. Agatha Harkness was the single most interesting person you'd ever met. With her endearing dark curls and piercing dark blue eyes, you’d developed a crush almost immediately. It must have been the way she grasped your hand firmly at the block barbeque, introducing herself with a raspy voice and teasing lilt, that had you giving up your body to her that same night. 

Ever since that warm summer evening, you’d been casually seeing her. It was mainly sex, and as smitten as you were with her, Agatha most definitely did not see you the same way. How could she? You were a twenty-two year old girl with a job you hated and no idea how to take care of yourself, and Agatha was a confident forty-three year old woman with a stable job, extensive hobbies, and rich tastes. 

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts and willing the stupid smile off your face at the sound of your front door opening, you leaned as casually as you could against the counter. Even in the dim lighting of your kitchen, Agatha looked like she’d just walked a runway. 

Okay, maybe that was excessive. But the dark dress slacks that hugged her hips, and the tucked in blouse that showed plenty of cleavage was definitely attractive. You could smell her lavender perfume wafting over to you as she set a paper bag full of food on your counter, and you let your eyes slide slowly up her body as she turned towards you. 

“My eyes are up here, sweet cheeks.” Agatha had a slight smirk on her face as she watched the way you shivered at her words. 

You let your eyes wander up to her face, feeling like she could see your very thoughts as those blue eyes pierced yours. Smiling, you made your way towards her as she reached for your waist. “Sorry, I’m just enjoying the view.”

Chuckling slightly, Agatha spun you around quickly, pressing your back against the counter as she laid her hands on either side of you. Thoroughly trapped between her and the counter, you took the opportunity to roll your hips into hers, smiling widely at her suppressed groan. 

Needy lips found yours, Agatha’s teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You let your mind drift, your shoulders relaxing for the first time that day as you let Agatha dominate the kiss. She pulled away far too soon for your liking, and you couldn’t help the pout that appeared on your face as you wrapped your arms around her waist. 

“Come on, I need to make you some food if you’re going to have enough energy for what I have planned later.” Agatha ended her sentence with a wink, pulling away from your grasp as your eyes went wide. She pulled out various food ingredients as you went to the sink and washed your hands, stealing one last final kiss from you before she turned her attention to the food. 

Giving you a few vegetables to cut up, Agatha pulled your hair into a ponytail for you, returning to the stove and shooting you an inquisitive look. “Tell me all about your asshole boss.”

—

You sat back, finally finishing your long winded rant about your overbearing boss. You stabbed the last piece of pasta on your plate, bringing the fork to your mouth as Agatha watched. She brought her glass of wine to her lips, processing the last ten minutes of your rambling. 

It had been hard for her to focus, truly, you just looked so perfect in the dim but warm lighting of your kitchen. She kept finding herself looking at the perfect curve of your neck, and the way your hair fell over your shoulders as you waved your hands to prove a point. The way your eyes bore into hers as you waited for a response wasn’t helping, and she gulped down the rest of her drink quickly. 

“Well, at this point you’ve got to be firm with your boundaries, hon,” She started, bringing her fingers to circle the rim of her wine glass as your eyes followed the movement. “I know that’s difficult, but your boss won’t ever learn to respect you if you don't communicate your boundaries with him.”

Nodding, you let out a noise of agreement, cracking your neck slightly as you eyed your computer bag. Agatha followed your line of sight, before turning back to you and raising an eyebrow. “Are you seriously considering working right now?”

Scoffing slightly, you stood up and gathered up the dishes. As you moved to grab Agatha’s plate, you leaned over until her eyes were level with your chest. You’d unbuttoned your shirt slightly, and you smiled victoriously when her eyes locked on your purple bra. 

“And what if I am?” You whispered, your lips grazing her ear as you watched her fingers twitch slightly around her empty wine glass. 

Washing the dishes quickly, you could sense movement behind you as you placed the last plate on the drying rack. Turning, your mouth fell open at the sight of Agatha’s nude chest. Her fingers were toying with her belt as she placed her top and bra into the bag she’d brought with her. 

“Still thinking about work?” 

You felt your mouth go dry, your mind blanking as she sauntered up to you. Her fingers hooked in your belt loops, pulling you backwards towards your couch. Crossing the living room, your eyes remained on her chest as your hands wrapped around her neck.

The back of your knees met the couch, and Agatha partially pushed you down, positioning you until you were laying down. Slowly removing your shirt, button by button, she leaned down and let her lips graze your neck before murmuring, “You have a lot on your mind, today, I can practically see your brain overworking itself. Be a good girl and let me fuck all those thoughts right out of your pretty head.”

A low moan escaped you, and you felt yourself sink into the comfortable lavender-scented haze that you'd grown used to. Something about Agatha just felt safe, and while you were with her you felt that you could give her control. 

Agatha controlled your body, mind, and heart. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A hand cupped your cheek, and your eyes refocused to see blue eyes looking down on you with concern. “Is that alright, hon?” 

Blinking, you smiled, wrapping your hands around Agatha’s waist as you pulled her body flush against yours. “Yes, I just slipped into subspace for a second.”

Blue eyes darkened, and the hand on your cheek slid down to wrap around your throat as Agatha’s lips met yours. She whispered in between kissing you, “Good. That’s what I’m here for. You just let me have control for a little while, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

A whine left your throat, and Agatha gently grasped your wrists with her hand and held them above your head. Pressing them into the couch cushion, she wordlessly ordered you to stay put, before she was ripping off your bra and leaving marks all over your chest. 

You let your body go limp, your brain floating away as you breathed heavily beneath her. It just felt so good. The smell of Agatha’s perfume, her hands running over your waist as her lips sucked bruises into your skin. You felt her lips move up to your collarbone, squirming slightly as you opened your eyes. 

“Agatha.” Your voice was slightly hard, but breathy. 

A hum of acknowledgement sounded out, and you fought the urge to move your hands as her lips steadily made their way towards your neck. Your mind rose out of the haze it was in, sharpening when her teeth grazed a sensitive spot at the base of your throat. 

Pushing Agatha back by her shoulders, your lips parted at the hungry look in her eyes. She leaned in, her tongue swiping over her lips before a firm hand on her sternum stopped her. 

“No visible marks.” Your voice was cold, reminding her of the rules you both had agreed on. Agatha’s face dropped slightly, her hands stilling around your waist as your eyes flitted between her eyes and lips. 

“Fine.” Agatha said, her tone short. 

She could have kicked herself, of course you wouldn’t want anyone to know about this. You were a young woman with all the opportunities in the world, well-spoken and gentle with the brightest smile. Anyone could have you, could love you. Agatha reminded herself that she wasn’t special, at least not to you, as she slowly lowered you back against the couch, your hands digging into her hair. 

To her, you were a bright burning star. The only light she had, and although you threatened to burn her from the inside out, with your teasing smiles and glossy eyes, she couldn't help but get sucked into your orbit. It was a never ending dance, the two of you. Getting close enough to feel the scorching heat that guaranteed to consume her heart and soul, then pulling away before the feeling could grow into something that promised longevity. 

Your lips found hers, and they tasted like forgiveness. 

Agatha let herself get lost in you, in your high-pitched moans that washed over her, and the way your fingers tightened in her hair when she finally took your aching nipple between her lips. Your hips rose to meet hers, grinding your pelvis against hers as she groaned into your soft skin. 

The haze returned, thicker than before. Agatha’s lips were soft yet rough, lulling you into a state of bliss. Your clothes were off before you could process the action, your skin sliding against Agatha’s as she murmured praises into your ear. 

Her fingers entered you, and you saw stars. They curled, and your eyes rolled back. Agatha was there to catch you, bringing you down with soft words and firm hands that promised to mold you into something beautiful. 

When she eventually left for the night, promising to text you when she arrived home, you felt something empty settle in your chest. Shrugging it off, you smiled down at your phone as the notification sound rang. 

‘Dinner on me, this Friday? There’s a new restaurant I’ve been wanting to try.’

Biting your lip, you set your phone down as you turned on the shower. Inspecting your nude body, you ran your fingers over the marks Agatha had left on your chest. Your eyes rose slightly, imagining what some of those marks would look like on your neck. You shook your head, it would do no good to fantasize about things you couldn’t have. Picking up your phone, you responded. 

‘Sure! That sounds an awful lot like a date tho…’

You stepped into the shower, sighing as the hot water hit your aching muscles. Letting your mind drift, you started planning your outfit, knowing that you’d cave to Agatha’s request. 

Your phone buzzed, your eyes snapping open at the sound, your heart racing slightly. You paused, getting a grip and deciding to make her wait. Rubbing conditioner onto the ends of your hair, you glanced over at your phone, sitting innocently on the counter. Fuck it. 

Getting out of the shower, rinsing your hair and suds of soap off your body, you picked up your phone with damp fingers. 

‘It’s not a date, hon. It’s a nice dinner between two friends.’

You scoffed, something dropping in your chest as you reread the text. 

‘If you say so.’

Dropping the phone onto your bed, you wrapped your hair in a towel, pulling your laptop out. Scrolling, you found the latest email from your boss, asking you to complete a task before the next morning. Remembering what Agatha had told you, you composed an email of your own. 

‘Good evening, I will no longer respond to messages outside of my regular work hours. If there is a problem with this, please feel free to bring it up to our Human Resources department. I will see you tomorrow, Y/N Y/L/N.’

Sending it, you felt a shred of self respect enter your body as a proud feeling wormed its way into your heart. It reminded you of Agatha, and you closed your laptop before reaching for your phone. 

‘I do, I’ll pick you up at 6.’

Looks like you had an outfit to pick out.

—

You felt your heart drop as low as your bank statement as Agatha pulled up to the restaurant. You recognized the name, and knew that this was way too expensive to accept. 

“Agatha,” You began, your eyes wide as you took in the decorative entranceway. 

A hand on your thigh stopped more words from escaping your mouth, your mind scrambling for a solution. You looked down, admiring the short nails on Agatha’s long fingers as she tightened her grip, before raising your eyes to her own. 

“Let me take care of you.” Agatha said, her tone leaving no room for arguments. She could see your mind at war with itself, your lips parting as an argument sprung to your tongue. Before you could get any words out, she leaned in and kissed you. It was a short kiss, no more than two seconds, but it left you silent and wanting more. 

Elegant eyebrows rose, Agatha waiting for your response. Your eyes flicked down, resting on her lips. “Okay.”

At your resigned whisper, Agatha smiled widely. She quickly swept you out of your seat, her pace quick but leisurely as she ushered you inside, her hand resting on the small of your back. 

Your eyes were wide as you looked around the restaurant, taking in the chandelier and dark mahogany of the walls as the soft chatter of the patrons reached your ears. Although it was a rule to not touch each other in public, you ignored it in favor of leaning further into Agatha’s side, feeling slightly overwhelmed. 

A nice looking man approached the two of you, his uniform neatly pressed as he ushered for you to follow. He led you to a more secluded area of the restaurant, as per your reservation, and you felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Agatha meticulously planning this out. 

Pulling the chair out for you, Agatha let her eyes roam down the front of your dress as you sat down. Leaning in, she let her lips just barely graze your ear, “You look wonderful, by the way.”

A blush made its way onto your face, and a tendril of heat erupted in your core at the low tone. Picking up the menu to give your hands something to do, you felt your fingers shake as your eyes landed on the price tags for each item. 

Murmuring a wine selection to the hovering waiter, Agatha watched as your eyes rapidly scanned the paper in front of you. The man quickly left, and she sat back in her seat as she waited for your eyes to meet hers. 

“This feels like a date.” You said, your voice trembling slightly as you gingerly put down the menu. Looking up, you felt a small tendril of hope worm its way into your heart. Agatha’s blue eyes didn’t look quite as piercing in the dark atmosphere of your secluded corner, instead holding something unmistakably warm in them as she looked at you. 

“Would you like this to be a date?” Agatha simply asked, raising a single brow. 

You froze, the hope in your chest wrapping around your heart and squeezing. You willed your mouth to start working and respond, but all you could manage were a few blinks. Agatha sighed slightly, her eyes dropping from your face as she ran her fingers over her own menu. 

“Remember, this is on me. Don’t worry about the prices, hon.” Her voice was still low, but had lost its slight raspiness that you’d grown fond of. 

Before you could say anything in return, your mind and heart still waging a war against each other, the waiter returned. The silence stretched as he poured the wine, Agatha motioning for him to leave the bottle. Speaking softly, she ordered before turning to look at you. 

“And what would you like?” The waiter asked, his tone professional as you floundered. 

Panicking slightly, your fingers gripped the menu as you tried to skim the different options. The words started blurring together, and you felt your neck heat up at the expectant silence. You felt out of place, longing for a quiet bar with no manners to be seen, rather than this expensive restaurant that had dozens of rules you weren’t aware of. 

A cool hand placed itself on your trembling fingers, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Agatha’s eyes as she ordered for you. The ringing in your ears grew louder as your heartbeat raced, and your eyes darted towards the restrooms. Taking a steadying breath, your eyes fell to Agatha’s hand, curled around your fingers as you clenched the menu.

The sound of a throat clearing caused your eyes to snap up, landing on the waiter's outstretched hand as he glanced at your menu. You smiled apologetically, watching him eye the slightly crumpled paper as you handed it to him. He walked away, and you sank into your seat. 

“Breathe for me.” Agatha’s voice washed over you, unraveling the tight knot in your chest as you took a few measured breaths. You looked anywhere but her eyes, annoyed with yourself and a bit embarrassed. The only other time she’d seen you like this was when she fucked you in a public bathroom, and you had panicked when someone knocked on the door. 

Shaking that thought out of your head, you laughed awkwardly as you reached for your wine. Taking a sip and frowning at the way your fingers trembled around the glass, you kept your head ducked as you looked at Agatha through your lashes. 

The expression on her face could only be described as soft, and you lifted your chin as the last oily remnants of shame left you. Taking a larger mouthful of wine, you prayed for your nerves to dissipate as the alcohol hit your bloodstream. 

“Nervous?” The raspiness was back, and you couldn’t help the way your lips parted. You watched her eyes flick downwards, studying the color of your lipstick briefly before shooting back up towards your eyes. 

Offering a tight lipped smile, you attempted to shake off your nerves. You could enjoy a nice dinner with your neighbor. Your really hot neighbor. Fuck. You took another sip of your wine. 

“Just feeling a little out of my element.” You said, feeling a pleasant buzz settle underneath your skin. You let the rest of the restaurant fade into a low thrum, your attention solely focused on Agatha’s lips as she tasted the wine in front of her. Her fingers curled around the glass, and your mouth watered slightly as you remembered the way it felt to suck on them after she’d fucked you dumb. 

Agatha asked you a question, something about your boss, and you let the conversation take your nerves away. You barely even noticed the waiter returning with your food, so caught up in the way Agatha laughed slightly at your lame attempt at a joke. Her lips quirked up, her features softening as she stifled another laugh. 

Digging into your food, you thanked her for selecting an option for you. You couldn’t quite name what was in front of you, but it was delicious. You let your eyes close slightly, savoring the taste in your mouth as you slowly removed your spoon. You realized that Agatha had gone quiet, and looked at her inquisitively. 

Dark blue eyes stared at you in a way that could only be described as hungry. Her fingers had tightened around her silverware, the whites of her knuckles bleeding through as her gaze locked onto the spoon still between your lips. 

You smiled, finally catching on. Slowly, you dragged the spoon past your lips before using the tip of your tongue to clean it off. Your smile widened at the sound of Agatha sucking in a sharp breath, her jaw working. 

Digging into your food once more, you slowly lifted the spoon to your lips. Agatha’s eyes snapped to yours. 

“Don’t do that.” Her words were practically hissed, her eyes bouncing between your lips and eyes. Her pupils were slightly blown, the blue of her eyes reduced to mere slivers as she watched you slip the spoon between your lips. 

Swallowing, and deciding to take mercy on her, you set your spoon down and tilted your head as you observed the rigid posture of the woman across from you. 

“Do what?” You asked, your tone innocent even as a smirk graced your lips. Taking another sip of your wine, you watched Agatha’s fingers loosen their grip on her silverware. She flexed them slightly, looking around briefly before a hard look appeared in her eyes. 

“Don’t tease me,” She murmured, her eyes dark as she watched your lips part at her words. “Although, that’s what you want. Isn’t it?”

“I-” You felt a rush of heat at your core, your underwear dampening slightly at the flood of arousal that coursed through you. 

“You want me to watch you, the way that you pretend to be innocent while you tease me with your fingers and lips and eyes that practically beg me to fuck you. Isn’t that right?” Agatha’s eyes were dark, boring into you as you sucked in a breath. She slowly lifted her wine, sipping as you tried to control your quickly overheating body. 

The waiter returned. You despaired. 

You felt the weight of Agatha’s stare as she paid the waiter, leaving a generous tip that had him glowing. She pulled your chair out for you, leading you from the restaurant with a much firmer hold around your waist. You find yourself leaning into the touch, blaming the wine you’d gulped down for your lack of rule-following. 

“Oh my gosh! Hey!” A chipper voice startles you out of the daze you were in, and you pull away from Agatha, ignoring the look she sends you as you search for the owner of the voice. Looking around you spot your coworker waving at you from down the street.

“Hey,” You start, forgetting her name. You cough awkwardly as she approaches, nudging Agatha in the side when you catch her staring daggers at the woman. “How are you?”

Your coworker launches into a rambling rendition of her past week, her enthusiasm not dimming even as Agatha turns stony beside you. You nod along, missing the way Agatha’s eyes watch as your coworker grasps your forearms when she laughs. 

Watchful eyes take note of your coworkers hands as they hold onto you, as they playfully slap your shoulder when you offer a lame joke in response to her never-ending chatter. Agatha feels the churning jealousy in her chest rise to an inferno when your coworker pulls you into a tight hug. Her hands linger around your waist a little too long for Agatha’s liking, and she offers a tight lipped smile as the girl waves goodbye. 

You turn, your face frozen in an awkward grimace as you make eye contact with Agatha. She has an unreadable look in her eyes, and you wonder what it is as she turns you and starts walking towards her car. 

She’d parked a few blocks away, and her strides are long and purposeful as her hand tightens further on the small of your back. You struggle to keep up, your mind bouncing between Agatha’s splayed fingers burning through your dress and her stony expression. It’s all very confusing, and you tug at her shirt to draw her attention. 

“Ok what’s going on, becau-” 

You’re cut off by Agatha’s hands pushing you backwards, into an alley and up against the wall. Her hands are rough, palming your hips as she presses herself against your front, your breaths intermingling. Your eyes dart down, watching her lips part. You practically tremble from anticipation, and you close your eyes as she leans towards you. 

Soft lips meet your neck, and your eyes fly open in surprise as a strangled gasp leaves your throat. Your hand moves up, tangling in her hair as those soft lips are replaced with sharp teeth. 

Pleasure courses through you as she marks your neck, her lips never quite lifting off your skin as she sucks dark bruises along the sides of your throat. Her hands are still on your hips, pressing you into the wall in a harsh grip as her heaving chest presses against your own. 

You’re about to remind her that you’re in public, that anyone could walk by and see the two of you, when a single, growled word causes your mind to blank. 

“Mine.”

At the low moan that rips itself from your throat, Agatha pulls away, her eyes dark as she takes in the state of your neck. A smirk forms on her face, and before you can catch your breath, she’s pulling you away from the wall and walking quicker than before towards her car. 

You remain quiet, processing the last few minutes as she pulls onto the street. Her hand makes its way towards your thigh, and you blink in confusion. She never touched you in public like that, so what changed now?

Agatha’s fingers squeezed your thigh in an almost possessive manner, and your eyes widened as you came to a realization. “Do you see me as more than just a hot neighbor you like to fuck sometimes?” 

You’re staring at her now, your own feelings looming and threatening to overwhelm you. Praying that your infatuation is reciprocated, you gently touch the fingers on your thigh, waiting until Agatha glanced over at you. 

Her eyes are nervous, wide, and filled with the same emotions you see in the mirror everytime the two of you separate for the night. You can sense her hesitance, and you turn her palm over to lace your fingers with hers. 

“Because I see you as so much more than that.” Your words are whispered, Agatha’s eyes widening slightly at your confession. She diverts her focus from the road, her eyes taking you in as an unmistakable feeling of joy spreads through her chest. Turning back, she bites her lip as a slow smile spreads across her face. 

The fingers intertwined with your own squeeze tighter, and you smile as you watch the emotions flit across Agatha’s face. Excitement and hope being the main two. She wears a small smile for the remainder of the car ride, her fingers squeezing yours as she stroked the back of your hand with her thumb. 

Pulling into her driveway, Agatha practically forces you out of the car, her hands hot around your waist as you enter her home. As soon as you’re through the door, she shuts it and presses you firmly against the cool wood. 

“So,” You begin, slightly breathless as her lips resume marking your neck. “Does this mean you also feel strongly about me?” 

Agatha's eyes are warm as she pulls away to look at you. Her fingers run gently over your flushed cheek, her smile wide as she responds. “Of course I do.” 

You sense a slight hesitancy from her, and gently grasp her chin when she looks away from you. Her eyes are wide, tears starting to fill them. 

“I don’t want to scare you off.” Agatha says, her voice trembling. 

Pulling away from the door, you pull Agatha along as you search for her bedroom. Offering a gentle smile, you push her onto the bed before straddling her lap. Pulling her face into your cupped hands, you place a gentle kiss on her lips before whispering, “Tell me, I promise you won’t scare me off.”

Agatha’s eyes are earnest, her hands trembling as they clutch the fabric around your hips.  “I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you. The desperate, aching kind of love. The kind there’s no coming back from. The kind there’s no way out of. The kind that’s going to be the death of me one day.”

Your lips part, your eyes crinkling in a smile as you look at her. You can’t quite find the right words, so you press your lips against hers, attempting to convey the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. It goes unsaid, instead felt through your frenzied lips that you feel the exact same way. 

The kisses turn passionate, slower than you normally kiss Agatha. Her brain apparently starts to work again, turning lustful as her hands claw at the hem of your dress. You break the kiss laughing slightly as you help her take the soft fabric off. 

Your hands undo the buttons of her shirt as she hurriedly removes her jacket from her shoulders. Your dress lands somewhere on the floor, Agatha’s lips reattaching themselves to your neck and moving over the newly exposed skin towards your chest. 

As soon as you felt those sinful lips against your chest, you let out a gasp, the sound spurring Agatha into further action. Your fingers scramble, losing their grip on her infuriatingly small buttons as you close your eyes, lost in the feeling of Agatha’s teeth sucking your nipple between them. 

Agatha pulls away, her pupils blown as she takes you in. A flush is spreading down your chest, your hips rolling slightly as your fingers flex against her stomach. In an instant, she flips you until your back meets the bed, a soft grunt escaping your lips as you open your eyes in confusion. 

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.” Agatha husks, her hands running all over your body. She pulls your underwear off in one smooth motion, before removing her own shirt. 

“But, we’ve been fucking for a while.” You say, your eyes glued to the lacy bra that Agatha reveals as she drops her shirt on the floor. Humming, she smiles as she slowly leans in to nuzzle against your neck. 

“This time is different,” Agatha’s words are quiet, and you nod immediately, knowing exactly what she means. At the feeling of your nod, Agatha leaves a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck as you squirm slightly. She slowly works her way down your body, leaving kisses on every inch of exposed skin as you feel your mind go hazy. 

Upon reaching the apex of your thighs, and admiring the slick juices leaking from you, Agatha removes her hands from where they were pinning your hips down. Your hips automatically start moving, rutting into the air as you search for some sort of friction. 

“Let’s play a little game.” Agatha mutters, watching your eyes light up at the idea. She reaches up, tangling her fingers with yours and pressing your conjoined hands into the mattress. ��If you can come without my help, I’ll give you a reward.”

Your glassy eyes stare at her, not quite comprehending her words. At the confusion etched across your face, Agatha smirks, before dropping her face to your dripping pussy and sticking out her tongue. At the feeling of her strong muscle against you, your hips jerk and you understand what she meant. 

Agatha doesn’t move, her tongue still firmly against you as you grind against her face. Your back arches as you thrust harder, your orgasm nearing as Agatha squeezes your hands tighter. 

Stars erupt behind your eyes, and you can almost feel your consciousness drift off among the galaxies as your muscles tense and release. Agatha helps you ride out your high, her tongue swiping through your folds and collecting your cum as your hips stutter beneath her ministrations. 

“Fuck,” Agatha groans. You think it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. 

Long fingers enter you, curling just right and coaxing forth the blazing arousal that had threatened to dissipate after your orgasm. You can feel your back arching, your hips thrusting in time with each stroke of Agatha’s fingers as your mind sinks further into that comfortable lavender-scented haze. 

“More.” You gasp, and Agatha wonders if you’ve realized what you're begging for. 

Practically slamming her fingers into your slick pussy, Agatha kneels, getting into a better position to fuck you. You moan, your throat slightly scratchy as you feel your arousal climb. Agatha watches your eyes roll back, your pleas becoming incoherent as your second orgasm washes over you. 

You moan, your hips stilling as you twitch from aftershocks. You vaguely feel Agatha pull her fingers from you, your eyes closed as you clutch the comforter beneath you. You can feel her pull away from you, the bed shifting as she moves off of it. Opening your eyes, you fight the haze that settles over your mind as you peer around the room for her. 

Agatha turns around, her eyes catching yours before your gaze moves further down. Her hand is slowly pumping over a deep purple strap-on, and you feel another wave of arousal rise as you weakly attempt to close your legs. 

Blue eyes narrow, and Agatha makes her way to the bed in a few, quick strides. Kneeling in front of your partially closed legs, she digs her nails into your inner thigh as she wrenches them open again. 

“Do not do that again.” Her voice is harsh, and you can’t stop the low moan that leaves you. “I’m giving you what you wanted.” She leans down, her lips now rough as she kisses over the dark hickeys she’d made earlier that night. Her hand replaces her lips, gripping your throat tightly as she moves her lips to your ear. 

“More.”

You can’t stop the throaty moan that leaves you, the sensations becoming overwhelming in an instant as your arousal skyrockets. You close your eyes again, feeling the warning squeeze against your throat, Agatha’s nails dragging down your taunt stomach, and the tip of the strap-on that she’s teasing your entrance with. 

In one quick movement, Agatha buries the strap into you, her own moan mixing with yours as your eyes snap open. There’s a burning sensation at your core, and as Agatha starts thrusting roughly into you, it melts into a white-hot pleasure. 

Your hands flail, not quite knowing what to do as your mind is thrown headfirst into the lavender-scented subspace you’ve grown so fond of. You can hear the slap of Agatha’s thighs hitting you with every thrust, her hand tight around your throat while the other grips your hip. Her pupils are blown, her eyes watching your face as your lips part and incoherent mumbles escape you. 

Agatha is so engrossed with watching your face, the way it scrunches up slightly when your orgasm is approaching, that she almost misses the soft words you say. 

“I love you.” Your eyes are sparkling, gazing up at her with so much emotion in them, Agatha feels her hips stutter slightly. You repeat it, a giddy smile appearing on your face, and Agatha just about loses her mind. 

Hips snapping roughly, the sound of Agatha’s strap fucking into you fills the room, your moans growing louder with each passing second. Blue eyes watch you come undone, your body spasming and tensing as a powerful orgasm rips through you. She watches, gently guiding you down, as a piece of herself she didn’t know was missing clicked back into place when your eyes bore into hers. 

You’re brought down with soothing words and praises, Agatha’s hands soft as they run over your trembling form. You barely feel her remove her strap, a warm feeling overtaking your chest as you watch her eyes sparkle in the dim lighting of her room. 

Laying down, Agatha wraps an arm around you as you roll over, burying your face into her chest. She hums softly, tracing circles on your upper back as you let your mind leisurely emerge from the subspace it was deeply entrenched in. 

“So,” You say, your eyes dropping as a wave of tiredness washes over you. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

“Of course, my love.” Agatha says gently, running her fingers over your face as you finally succumb to sleep. How could she say anything else? She’d been in love with you since the moment she’d laid eyes on you. You were the one dazzlingly bright light in her life, the mere thought of you bringing a sense of peace and contentment. She’d be a fool to let you go. In a few short words, she let the scorching heat of you draw her in, not caring if she burned in the process of loving you. “Of course.”

[techav]

On Catastrophic Failures

After working through a silly design mistake and then having to reverse engineer my own project to make up for my own bad habits, my 68030 homebrew computer was running great. Better than ever, in fact — I finally had it running stable at 50MHz. It was absolutely flying.

The only thing keeping the machine from running faster was my 8-port serial card, which really needed another wait state to surpass the 50MHz mark. Luckily, I had designed the board with this need in mind and had included a jumper to select between 0 to 3 wait states. Unfortunately I had missed a single exclamation point in the logic equations for that wait state generator and so the signals were inverted. Not to worry — it's reprogrammable. I just need to add the missing mark, recompile, and re-burn the chip.

And that's when everything went wrong.

All I did was swap out the logic chip for the serial card, why won't the computer boot anymore? I haven't even changed the jumper setting yet. Swapping that chip shouldn't have affected anything else.

... It's not booting even with the serial card disconnected.

Out comes the oscilloscope. Reset is good, but nothing else is moving. All the bus signals are holding steady instead of doing their jobs.

Lower the clock speed; still nothing. Double-, triple-check power supply and bus connections; still nothing. Check the clock pin on the CPU ... nothing.

There's no clock signal on the CPU, so it can't do anything.

A quirk of this design, coming from my limited knowledge when I first started building it, is that the bus control CPLD drives the CPU clock, not the oscillator directly (the original intent was to divide the bus clock for the CPU — something that was more common in the 8-bit era). If there is no CPU clock something must be wrong with the CPLD.

That CPLD seems awfully warm.

I pulled the CPLD and dropped it in my programmer. ATMISP reported that the chip was not blank. That meant it was at least responding to some JTAG queries. I tried erasing the chip and it reported success. I tried reflashing my bus controller configuration. It failed verification every time. Nothing left to do but pull it and try another chip.

That's when I noticed not only was it getting quite hot, but it was drawing enough current that the LED on my programming adapter wasn't even lit. Something in that chip had shorted and was causing excessive current draw. Luckily I have some spares. New chip burns without any problems. Drop in into the main board and success — we have clock and bus signals!

But it's still not booting.

Out comes the oscilloscope again. Address strobes are working as expected. Cycle termination is happening as expected. ROM read & enable strobes are working as expected. RAM and the on-board serial port are never getting selected.

Time for the logic analyzer. After working through bus signals 16 at a time, I finally got to the point where I was watching enough of the address bus to see what it was loading.

The CPU was stuck in an odd loop. It would load the initial stack pointer & reset vector as normal, then start fetching & executing instructions. But before it had even finished fetching the second instruction, it would go back to loading the reset vector, then start again with fetching & executing instructions. Then it would go back to the beginning with loading the initial stack pointer & reset vector, and just continue on in this fashion endlessly.

There is nothing I'm aware of in the documentation that describes this behavior. It is possible to halt the CPU on startup by trying to use a misaligned stack pointer or reset vector, but it's not indicating a halt.

Thoroughly stumped, I turned to Discord for help. One user, [arminius97] had encountered something similar with the 68020 that ultimately required replacing the CPU. Another user well-versed in the 68030, [transistorfet], helped me walk through possibilities, and ultimately we came to the conclusion that something is very wrong with this CPU.

So something burned up my CPLD and my CPU.

I have one other 68030 CPU — a full-featured ceramic-package chip rated for 25MHz (it was my plastic-package 40MHz 68EC030 that failed). Time to swap chips around and see what happens.

A memory error.

It was running code! But it was also consistently reporting a memory error on startup at address 0x00000084. Always the same location, always the same bad byte. So I swapped around SRAM chips. The error followed. I have a bad memory chip.

So that's a CPLD, a CPU, and an SRAM chip that all failed at the same time.

This is quite a setback, especially because it had been running better than ever before. I don't even have any spare 4mbit SRAM chips I can test with. Repairs will be expensive.

Perhaps this is a good time to spring for some 15ns or faster SRAM and run with no wait states for main memory. Or perhaps I could finally finish building & testing the 72-pin SIMM board I assembled for this machine years ago.

I plan on exhibiting this build running the multi-user BASIC setup this June at VCFSW, so I do have a bit of a ticking clock to get it up and running again. I'm sure I'll figure something out.

[pavedinashes-if]

I just remembered my question!

So could you please elaborate on the ROs major pet peeves besides MC just existing for L and Alex. 🤣💀

* Sigh * Mkay.... Did I answer this before? Or was it for my other IF? I'm confused... Consider this the newest facts... Sam - overuse of phone F - sloppy ketchup pouring N - crumbs in butter Fr - not replacing the toilet paper roll Xavier - leaving dishes in the sink Alex - Tapping sounds, toiletpaper orientation Dr. M - cutting in line Sparks - slow walkers L - uneven walking rhythms P - bad manners, unnecessary "reply all" emails D - overuse of phone, being late, slurping, bad manners, misaligned objects, airplane clappers, using excessive exclamation marks, using speakerphone in public

[resident-gay-bitch]

Remus loves books, he loves reading so much and Sirius knows this. He knows this so well because half the time when he wants Remus to look at him, and pay attention to him, Remus simply just won’t because he’s so bloody, infuriatingly, adorably invested in whatever book it is he’s reading.

It doesn’t even matter the genre, Sirius has learnt, nor that it’s fictional or otherwise. Just words on yellowing pages, with cracked spines and a warm smell emanating from within, that’s what Remus loves. He likes to escape there, to lose focus, time, and reality. And Sirius respects it.

He used to love reading himself, when he was younger. His favorite books were fantasy action. He got lost in the tales and strange lands, imagining himself as the noble hero, saving lives and running off into the sunset on a noble steed, or perhaps even with a lover.

He’s lost the knack for it these days, mostly. Sometimes he still picks up a book to read, if it really captivates him. Or if it’s so painstakingly good that Remus, rather than just expressing that it was enjoyable to read and outlining the basic plot, rambles about it for ages. Especially if he goes back and reads it a second time over, taking a quill to the pages, underlining his favorite phrases, adding exclamation marks for emphasis, and writing out every thought he has about it.

Sirius always reads those, but mostly for Remus’ input. And mostly so he can sit there and listen to Remus talk about it again, and get so brilliantly excited when Sirius agrees that particular characters sucked, or when they disagree about how certain plot points were brilliant, or how painstakingly heartbreaking the use of symbolism added so much depth to the entire book.

Sirius has two large bookshelves in his room. Both of them he’s built himself because he refuses to let Effie and Flea spend any extra money on him, and he himself doesn’t want to spend money on bookshelves when he can just make them. He also made Remus one, when he first learnt just how much Remus likes to read, when he first moved in with James. He’s still very proud of it to this day.

Point is, he has two large bookshelves, and they’re each only half full of books. There are other things on them, taking up the space. Such as his record collection, which is excessive now, and brilliant, and takes up a lot of space. It’s also riddled with gadgets, and thingamabobs, and dust collectors, and whatsits, as well as little things he’s tinkered.

He’s building himself another shelf at the moment, this one will have a stained glass door- so, more of a cabinet, he supposes. It’s made especially for his records, measured to fit the height and width of them perfectly with just a little wiggle room. That, once it’s done, will clear out plenty of space on his bookshelf for more books.

He’ll build himself another shelf or two, he thinks. Ones to mount one the wall, a place to keep all his little things that don’t really have a place, other than randomly on his bookshelves. He wants to leave as much room as possible.

Because, see, Sirius doesn’t read much. And the books he does read are already found on his shelf, or Remus’, because he borrows them.

But Remus reads a lot. He’s always looking for new books, everywhere he goes. Sirius can’t count the times he’s been pulled into random stores just to look at books for hours, only for Remus to walk out empty handed.

Because Remus doesn’t have the money for books. He never has. Maybe a few, here and there, cheep ones that is, from second hand stores. And on his birthday and Christmas his parents spoil him by picking out a couple of big ones.

But Remus’ money is saved for things other than books.

That hasn’t been much of an issue, because there are libraries. He spends a lot of time in the library at Hogwarts, when they’re there. And over the breaks, he spends it in the library by his house. And he borrows books from Sirius, and James, and Lily, and Peter, and Mary, and Marlene too.

But the thing is, Remus is running out of books. And sure, he’s happy to read the non fictional books, ones about the history of magic, or life in the trenches of the First Muggle World War, or how to bake cakes, or the biography of Salazar Slytherin, or whatever the hell else he can find. But nothing captivates him the way a good story can.

He needs tales to escape in between the more boring stuff. Remus never raves about the non-fiction. Sure, he tells Sirius random facts when he finds them out, or puts his new knowledge to use. But the novelty of a made up world excites him.

Sirius likes to watch Remus read fiction. He likes to watch Remus shift in his chair and tense his shoulders, he likes to watch blush bloom over Remus’ cheeks with a giddy smile as his eyes twinkle and lock onto the page. He also likes when he hears Remus’ sharp gasps, and gets to look up to find him sitting in the most awkward, on edge positions as he fixedly reads, and watches as tears begin to roll down Remus’ cheeks and dance over freckles.

He mostly likes when Remus smiles at his page, sure and familiar, a knowing look in his eye that makes him glimmer right before he looks up to try and find Sirius in the room, and blush immediately when he does before tucking his face back into the pages. Sirius likes that one the best, because he knows, whatever Remus read, it made him think of Sirius. He especially likes when Remus scribbles something on the page right after, or just dog ears the corner so he’ll never loose the page.

Sirius really likes when Remus finds a good story, and Remus clearly also likes when he finds a good Story. Remus doesn’t have the funds to by himself stories and has read his way through the entirety of his local libraries fictional section, as well as everything on Sirius’ own shelf twice.

But Sirius does have the funds for books. He has part of the inheritance his uncle Alphard left when he died, he has his weekly allowance from the Potters, as does James, and he has money saved up from working in Mrs Florence’ garden across the road all summer.

So he goes out, and buys books, and hopes Remus hasn’t read them.

He gets home, and puts them on his own shelf, because the last time Sirius bought a book for Remus just simply because he wanted to, Remus slapped him with the book, made his knee buckle with his cane, and told Sirius to never spend his money on him again.

So naturally, Sirius stole him a book, and Remus hit him twelve times with the new book, called him a stupid fucking idiot, and made him promise to never do it again.

He then promptly went and read the book, and made a note at the very back that Sirius was the one who got it for him, with a star placed by his name, thinking Sirius wouldn’t notice. Because Sirius would never snoop through Remus’ bookshelf when he’s not looking to try and read whatever annotations from Remus’ brain he could, hoping to find one that Remus made after doing his adorable glance and thinking of Sirius. No, no he’d never do that, Remus, he promises.

So Sirius buys himself books, ones that wouldn’t look too out of place sitting on his shelves, ones he doesn’t recognise Remus ever holding (though, that doesn’t mean much as Remus reads at the pace of a race car, Sirius is sure there’s a new book in his hand each time Sirius looks up), and prays Remus will like them. He thinks he will. He likes most books.

Sirius just hopes he makes annotations in them before he remembers they’re not his books, and puts them back on Sirius’ shelf to find.

So Sirius stacks them on his shelf, and waits for Remus to take the bait.

The first time Remus comes into his room once they’re there, he clearly notices, but doesn’t comment. So Sirius goes out to buy another.

The second time, he makes a comment, asking if Sirius ever actually reads the books he carelessly spends money on, and nothing else.

So Sirius buys another book, and begins to read the one with the most interesting cover. He makes sure the spine is cracked, the pages withered, and a crease on the cover from bending it wrong.

Remus notices it, the next time he visits, and asks if Sirius enjoyed it. He didn’t mind it, but he tells Remus he really liked the character named Liam (who reminds him vividly of Remus), and recommends it. Remus takes it home. Sirius rambles to James about how brilliantly smart his plan is for hours.

The next time Remus comes around, he returns the book. It’s in a similar state to when Sirius had last seen it, besides a few extra wrinkles on the spine, and creased pages. Sirius smiles and admires it for a while once Remus has left, with another book, another one Sirius made himself read, he didn’t like that one at all.

Naturally, Remus really enjoyed that one. They argue about it for a while, and Remus tosses the book at Sirius with a laugh, and Sirius resists the urge to throw himself back at Remus.

James and Peter go out in the sun, but Remus’ hip is bad that day, so Sirius stays inside with him. He sits and watches Remus read, it’s one of his own books, one he’s read at least four times before. He’s got a pen between his teeth that he keeps pulling out to scribble things down before placing it back.

Sirius wishes he were a pen.

Remus finishes his book and whines about it for a while, because he doesn’t have another, and he can’t stand to go outside. So Sirius gets up, grabs a book, and plops it in Remus’ lap. Remus blushes. It’s some muggle book, it’s about magic folk, and fairies, and a really cool protagonist with long black hair and tattoos and a winning grin.

He’s not even shy when he tells Remus he bought it so he could read about himself. Remus lightly thwacks him with his cane and tells Sirius to fuck off.

Sirius sits on the bed, and grabs Remus’ discarded book, and opens it up to page one. Already there, marked in blurry ink on the first page reads: this is what it feels like to have a star wish on you, right back. Sirius smiles, and begins to read, mostly for Remus’ annotations, but the book is good no less. It’s about doomed love, written through the metaphore of the night sky, and unsettling undertones of cannibalalistic desire, all wrapped up in one neat little bow that ties itself off with an accidental murder suicide.

Honestly, Sirius understands why Remus likes it now. He’s heard Remus talk about it in great detail before but bloody hell, it’s good. And Remus’ annotations make it better.

“Bloody-fuck.” Remus gasps, catching Sirius off guard. He sticks his head up and wonders how on earth Remus had gotten to the “bloody-fuck” part of the story yet, that’s over halfway through, and they’ve only been reading for twenty minuets.

“What’s the issue?” Sirius asks.

“Do you have an eraser?” Remus asks, “A magic one, for ink? Can’t use my wand.”

“Erm, no…” Sirius mutters. He knows Flea has one in his office, and he’s allowed to go get it if he ever needs, knowing it sits in the top left drawer, right by the paperclips. But he doesn’t say that, not yet.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Remus mumbles, “I forgot it wasn’t- I just… I still had the pen in my mouth.”

Sirius feels his heart race, “Remus, did you… write in my book?”

Remus looks so ashamed, and he holds up the neat pages and flips through all that he’s read, and… yeah, there’s a lot in there already. Scribbled lines, phrases, exclamation points, question marks, little stars drawn everywhere.

Sirius feels himself fall a little harder in love, “You can write in my book.” He mutters and swallows, “You can write in all of my books, whatever you like. It doesn’t matter, I probably won’t read most of them anyway.” Sirius lies. If they have Remus’ annotations he certainly will.

“Why would you buy them then?”

Sirius shrugged, “I had empty space on my bookshelf… I like having them there. Besides, I could read them, you know, I just… usually don’t.”

Remus snickers and shakes his head, “You’re strange- like a dragon. You’re a dragon that hoards treasure. Your treasure is books.”

Wrong, Sirius thinks, my treasure is you.

“A dragon.” Sirius mutters, “Do you fear me, Remus, a big mighty dragon?”

Remus scoffs and turns back to the book, “You’re such a small dragon you don’t even have the ability to fly.”

Sirius throws his pillow at Remus’ head. Remus laughs, flipping Sirius off, which only spurs him on.

Sirius promptly jumps off the bed and changes to Padfoot midway through the air, landing right on the arm of the chair Remus occupies before crawling all over him.

“Get off me, you stupid mutt!” Remus laughs, tacking Padfoot away, “You’re going to rip the book.”

Padfoot only barks and wags his tail high in the air.

Remus laughs again, sticking his good leg out where Sirius now sits on the ground, he uses it to pet Sirius’ side as he fixes his hair and book.

Padfoot tilts his head up at Remus, tongue hanging out of his mouth, as he watches.

“I can really write in it?”

Padfoot scoots closer, licking Remus’ knee.

Remus snickers and shoes him away, “You’re so gross, Padfoot. Your dog slobber stinks, you know that?”

Padfoot barks, resting his paw on top of Remus’ hand for a moment.

“Fine.” Remus breaths, “But you can write in mine too, that means.”

Sirius will be, he knows it.

Padfoot, however, watches Remus go back to reading, too invested to pay him any mind now. He plucks the pen from his ear and starts making more marks. Padfoot rests his head on Remus’ knee, and mindlessly, Remus reaches out to pet him.

That’s how James and Peter find them, two hours later. Remus deeply concentrated, halfway through his book, and Padfoot looking up at him like he hung the sky. James teases Sirius mercilessly about it later.

Over the week, Sirius reads. He reads Remus’ book, the one he left behind so Sirius could finish reading. And Sirius takes a red inked pen, because one time Remus said Sirius looks good in the colour red, and makes his own annotations. There aren’t many, as there isn’t much room left and Remus has basically said it all, but he underlines the things he likes, and draws wonky little circles half shaded in by the things that make him think of Remus (they’re supposed to be moons, and he hopes Remus won’t be able to tell at first, because the first wonky circle is placed right next to the phrase: nothing consumes her they way the need to taste his skin on her tongue does-).

The next time Sirius sees Remus, they’re at the Lupins. He brought Remus’ book with his own red annotations, and two other books, one about space, and one about a dog that dies.

He’s almost at the end of the one where the dog dies, and it’s honeslty devastating. It’s bound to make Remus sad. So very, very sad.

They sit on Remus’ bed, Remus up by the headboard, and Sirius himself laying over the foot on his stomach, a pillow tucked under his chin.

He’s crying, down to the last pages of his book, his heart being ripped out of his chest as he reads. When he started crying, Remus silently extended his legs and crossed them, letting his heels sit on the small of Sirius’ back. Because Remus is brilliant, and he knows Sirius likes to be touched when he’s sad.

He closes his book with a sigh, buries his face in the pillow, and screams. Remus laughs.

“You have to read this, Moony. It’s devastating.” Sirius sobs.

“If you insist.” Remus agrees, still reading his book.

“The dog dies!” Sirius rolls onto his side to look at him, “He dies, Remus, isn’t that horrible. I mean- it was bad enough for me, I can’t imagine what it would be like for you.”

Remus glances up over his book at raises an eyebrow at Sirius.

“You know…” Sirius sniffles, rubbing his nose before waving his hand through the air, “Because I’m a dog, and you won’t be able to stop thinking about me, and losing me, and-“

A pillow was thrown at his head so hard it shoved him back. But Sirius loves the dramatics, so he takes it further, and rolls until he topples off the end of the bed and groans about betrayal. Remus pretends not to listen, Remus continues to read. Sirius wants to give him the world.

Sirius eventually gets up and selects a book off of Remus’ shelf, admiring his own handiwork for a moment. He flicks the book open, and finds no annotations, so he puts it back. He grabs another, finds the same, and repeats.

“What are you looking for?” Remus asks.

Unashamedly, Sirius tells him, “One with your thoughts written out. Those are my favourites.” He picks up another, sifts through, and puts it back.

He turns when Remus is quiet for a while, he’s grinning, like he expects to find Remus with his head in his book, so distracted he didn’t hear. But he’s not.

Remus is blushing, and he’s looking at Sirius so curiously.

“I like your thoughts.” Sirius clears his throat, “You’re smart, they’re interesting. Besides, I hate not knowing what’s going to happen, you always manage to make correct predictions, so good at picking up clues.”

Remus smiles and ducks his head before reaching out and grabbing a book off his bedside. He tosses it at Sirius, “That one’s a children’s novel. It’s about a frog. I’ve annotated it seven times.”

“Brilliant.” Sirius grins, plopping himself back down on his bed and opening the book, “I love frogs.”

Remus laughs, a quiet laugh, embarrassed and bashful. They both continue to read. Sirius pulls out his pen and scribbles a red, wonky circle when the frog finds himself in love.

Four weeks later, and Sirius and Remus have been swapping books back and forth in trade. Remus takes his pick of whatever is on Sirius’ shelf, or whatever he’s “accidentally” left at Remus’ place, and in turn, Sirius reads whatever books Remus has annotated. Eventually, he begins to read his own, purely for Remus’ annotations.

Remus never fails to leave annotations, and Sirius leaves them right back.

One time, Sirius even worked up the courage to write annotations in one of his own books before handing it off for Remus to read, just in hopes of Remus liking them too.

He does. He circles Sirius’ annotations with his own black ink, and adds little stars in random places, and he even goes so far as to argue with Sirius in the margins.

This week, they meet at the movies with James and Peter. As they wait in the popcorn line together, Sirius hands him two books. One of Remus’ own that he’s returning, and one from his collection. He read it, another book about love. There was a line about reliability, and loyalty, and pure, blinding admiration, even in petty fights and bickering, and Sirius took a bold step and wrote: This reminds me of us.

Remus returns the book about a fierce dragon, and slaps a new one in his hands about a man driven to murder by his untidy roommate, “Maybe you’ll learn something from this one, hmm?”

Sirius didn’t get it until the book was done, and he had read every snarky remark aimed right at Sirius that Remus wrote, including the note at the end that requested Sirius keep his mess to his corner of the room before Remus is driven to a murderous fate. Sirius laughed so hard James came rushing into the room out of pure concern.

The next time they exchanged books, Sirius gave him one titled The Picture of Dorian Grey. Remus had already read it. Sirius scoffed, knowing this would happen sooner or later. However, when Sirius moved to put it back in his bag, Remus snatched it away. He only borrowed it last time, so now he could write his annotations, which excited him. It excited Sirius too.

“I have a strange one for you.” Remus said, handing it over nervously, “I… I’ve read this one a lot.”

“Okay?” Sirius asked, taking it slowly, looking at the cover, so withered he couldn’t clearly make out the image.

Remus swallowed, “It’s really one of my favorites.”

“I can’t wait, then.” Sirius grinned, flicking through it quickly and seeing almost no room to leave his own messages.

Remus nodded, “Just… just beware, okay?”

“Okay, Remus, I’ve got it.” Sirius snickered, wiggling the book like a fan, “What, has it got like, wild kinky sex in it. Does this book delve into your deepest desires, Remus? Does it make you feel sexy?” Sirius teases.

Remus swallows and turns his gaze away.

Sirius’ jaw goes slack, “Oh, my Merlin- I… it does.”

Remus blush’s, “Look- it’s not like that, it’s just-“ He mumbles, hiding his head in his hands, “Yes, there is a sex scene in it, near the end. It’s very long, and very detailed. But that’s not- I’m not trying to be weird, okay? I’d prefer to not give you a sexy book-“

Sirius snickers, “I was only teasing, Remus, it’s fine. Is that the weird bit? The long, sensual sex scene?”

“Mostly… it’s… well, I suppose it’s everything that leads up to it.” Remus swallows.

“Got it.” Sirius nods, and because he’s his own worst enemy, he asks, “Do you get off to it?”

Remus’ front door promptly slams in his face, and no matter how hard he knocks, or laughs, or pretends he’s joking, Remus does not open the door.

Sirius goes home, and he very pointedly does not pick up the book. He’s too nervous now. To nervous to read about this sex scene in Remus’ most favorite book and wonder if he’s ever… Sirius flops face down into his pillow and goes to annoy James instead.

When they meet up to swap back, Sirius still hasn’t read the book yet. He makes up an excuse, telling Remus he hasn’t been focused enough to read something important. Remus doesn’t seem to believe him, he seems so disappointed. He gives Sirius back The Picture Of Dorian Gray and barely talks for the remainder of their time spent together.

When Sirius gets home, he flips through Remus’ annotations, reading them all, and having to do a double take at one. Sure, there are plenty of snide comments about Sirius’ good looks, comparing him to Dorian and making theories on how Sirius must be in a similar situation. But there’s one that makes Sirius’ heart race: I’m annoyed at you. This entire fucking book Dorian’s been described as the most beautiful fucking man on earth and the only face I can fucking picture is yours you bloody idiot. Stop being beautiful, please? It’s detrimental to my sanity.

Sirius’ breath hitched in his throat. He ran to James, immediately, crashing into his room and jumping on the bed, not even caring he’s just interrupted James with his shirt off in a very compromising position with Lily. He doesn’t even care that she’s there.

“Look at this, James, read-“

“Really, Sirius? Now?”

“I’m sorry, Prongs, but you’ve got your happy ending so I don’t care- look.” Sirius shoves the page in his face, “What does this mean?”

James shoves on his glasses and gives Lily an apologetic glance before reading, “What the fuck do you think it means, Sirius?”

“I don’t know.” Sirius breathes, running his fingers over the black ink, “It could mean anything-“

“Sirius!” James laughed, flinging his hands into the air, “It means exactly whatever the hell your heart thinks it means, probably.”

Sirius glares and James and turns to Lily, “You’re smart, what do-“

“Might I remind you, Remus is my best friend, Sirius?” Lily smirked, “So no, I won’t be saying anything, and if you’re smart, you’ll know that’s enough. And I warn you, I will be telling him about this.”

Sirius swallowed and glared at her, “Shit.”

“Shit in deed, Romeo.” She giggled, “Go away please.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed, crawling off the bed, “Not too loud, please.”

James tossed a pillow at him.

“Hey, Sirius?” Lily asked, catching his attention, “You should read his book.”

“Right.” Sirius swallows, and very pointedly does not do that. He goes to make dinner with Effie and Flea, and ask them questions about it instead. They just say the same things James did, and they’re old and happy and very in love, so he actually trusts that.

That night, he lies in bed, a lamp over his shoulder, and he learns extactly why Remus seemed so nervous to share this book. Especially about the sex part, which was… well, it was really sexy. Like, so sexy. Sirius didn’t think anything could ever get that sexy. All he could think about whilst reading was Remus, and how badly he wanted to do those things to Remus, and how he wanted Remus to do those things to him. It was terrible, really.

So good, and so terrible, and so delightfully strange to read about. Because, in the start, the main character was engaged to a very wonderful woman. But by the end, he had left her. He left her because he loved a man. Two men in love. Remus’ favorite book was gay, with so many annotations about his own experiences, with a gay sex scene, with annotations about how much Remus liked the sex scene.

And most of all…

Sirius knew exactly what a lot of those annotations meant. Because around them were little stars. Within them they used “he” and “him” and terms of longing and yearning and… and then it got to a point midway through the book where things changed.

Remus stopped writing things like: I think of him. He’s more beautiful. I’m scared to lose him too.

Instead, he just used one word. One word scribbled everywhere. Beside so many different phrases, with different intentions and different feelings. One word that shattered it all, and that word was: Sirius.

Beside the phrase, he’s so beautiful, I hate him.

Beside the phrase, I miss him, I never got to have him but I miss him, no less.

Beside the phrase, kissing the expanse of his throat is something I think about often, no thought could be as beautifully filthy as mine when he’s around.

Beside the phase, I love him.

“Wakey, wake- oh, you’re up love. Are you alright, I’ve never seen you up with the sun before.” Effie teases as she walks into his room.

Sirius turns to her, eyes blinking. They’re red rimmed from crying. He didn’t realise it was morning. He still has the book in his lap, open to the last page where there’s a message. It’s an apology, and then that apology is taken right back and replaced with a heart.

“I didn’t sleep.” He muttered.

“Oh…” Effie mutters when she sees the state of him, “My darling boy, are you-“

“I have to go.” Sirius whispers.

“What?” She asks.

“I have to go.” Sirius says with more urgency, and he scrambles to his feet and makes a run for it.

“Shoes, dear!” Effie calls, and Sirius runs right back. He stuffs his feet in his slippers and runs off again, “Teeth!”

Sirius races back and hurriedly brushes his teeth. She calls for him again to change his clothes and eat when he tries to leave again, but he doesn’t bother. He just grabs the book and runs, tying not to slip in his slippers.

“Where’s he going?” James asked, standing his his doorway.

“Im not sure.” Effie said, “He’s still in his pyjamas. All he had was a book-“

“A blue one?” James asked.

Effie nodded. James rapt his knuckles on the doorframe and ducked his head inside, “Lily, he’s doing it!”

“Oh, yes!” She shouts back.

James gets a slap on the back of his head, “Did you sneak your girlfriend in over night, James Fleaumont Potter?”

James goes red, “Erm… no?”

Sirius is rushing. He couldn’t get Elvendork up and running, she still needs a few more tweaks. So he’s running there instead. All the way to Remus’ at who knows what time of morning.

When he gets there, he’s panting. He knocks on the door, but there’s no answer.

Lyall is probably at work, Hope is probably tending to her garden out back, and Remus is no doubt still sleeping. He’s worse than Sirius, he’ll sleep until something wakes him up, meaning he’ll sleep through till the next morning if nothing does.

Sirius doesn’t wait, he’s around the corner and shoving open Remus’ window, and hauling himself in before he can even think about it.

The desk that usually sits under Remus’ window is not there. So when Sirius dives in head first, expecting to catch himself on a desk, he’s rather shocked to come toppling down to the floor face first.

He groans, splayed out there on the ground, looking at the roof.

“What… the fuck?” He hears Remus mutter, and he pokes his head up to find that Remus is in the process of rearranging his room.

Sirius furrows his brow and looks at the time, “Why the fuck are you up and active at seven ten in the morning?” He runs his face and sits up, “Why are you rearranging your room?”

“I was stressed.” Remus swallowed, “Didn’t sleep.”

“Why?” Sirius groaned, his nose hurts, so he pokes it, which doesn’t help.

“Lily said you read what I wrote about you in Dorian Gray… called me, said you were asking what it meant.”

“Yeah, uhm- ow.” Sirius poked his face again.

“Don’t do that.” Remus grumbled, reaching for his cane and walking over to help Sirius up.

“Sorry.” Sirius yawns, his lack of sleep catching up to him.

“Why are you up?” Remus asked, “You don’t do anything before nine if you don’t have too.”

Sirius smiles, Remus knows him so well, “Didn’t sleep either.”

“Why not?” Remus hummed, casually leaning on his cane in that suave way he does. James doesn’t think it’s suave, he tells Sirius it’s just normal, but Sirius knows better than James. He’s blinded by love, of course he knows better than James.

“Was reading.” Sirius swallowed, holding up the book and wiggling it in his hands, “Uh… I made some annotations back… where they fit.”

Yeah, basically just Remus’ name right beside his own, everywhere, and lots of little moons. He even underlined one very sexy line in the dirty scene that really made him think of Remus, and drew and arrow pointing to it, and wrote both of their names with a heart around them.

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, taking the book when Sirius handed it back.

They were both blushing.

“Go on, open it.” Sirius mumbled, nodding for encouragement.

So slowly, tentatively, Remus did. He opened the book, midway through, and found his name, and little moons, and a million hearts scribbled everywhere there was space.

Remus dropped the book.

Sirius leant down to pick it up, because he’s always willing to do things for Remus. He always will be. He buys books with all the money he’s meant to be saving, to put them on his own shelf, so that Remus might browse and find something he likes. He just wants to please Remus. To make him happy. To make his life a little simpler.

“Oh, careful, it’s on the brink of falling-“ As Sirius stood back up with it, Remus kissed him. Very quick and very short but very on the lips, “apart.” Sirius squeezed out, “Oh.”

“Oh.” Remus muttered.

“Well…” Sirius swallowed, walking past Remus to put the book down on the desk. Because Sirius is respectful of Remus’ things, always has been, and what he wants to do to Remus right now is probably not very respectful. He turns back, and he grabs him, with everything he has, “You’re mine now.”

“Oh…” Remus mumbled as Sirius kissed him, pulling him down onto the bed, careful to help take the weight off Remus’ hip. Because he’s always thinking of Remus like that.

He lays them down, the way that makes Remus most comfortable, and he presses tight against him, and he kisses Remus with all the strength, and love, and devotion he has.

Sirius never stops buying books, and Remus pretends he never figures out what Sirius is doing. And in their own little house, when they buy one a few years later, Sirius fills a whole room with bookshelves just for Remus, and fills them until they’re overflowing.

He never gets tired of watching Remus read. And he never gets tired of seeing his own name written down in the margins of whatever love story Remus just finished reading.

★ ★ ★

This came to me in a dream. I don’t even know why. It was a vision and I just had to write it so… enjoy?

Also, I just had the image of the Ben Barnes fancast edits using the Dorian Grey clips in my head whilst writing this so I had to reference it. I’m pretty sure canonically Dorian doesn’t even look remotely like Sirius, and honeslty, that just makes Remus’ pining even more pathetic lamo.

Also, none of these books (besides Dorian) referenced are real. I wrote this between 2-4 am so I really had no brain cells left that could use real references lol. This was just fun.

If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it here <3

Wonderful Wolfstar lovers who were interested: @lemongrass77777 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lapassemirroir

[justali-anne]

I love how loud Papyrus is, like, everyone agrees that Papyrus is LOUD AS HELL for obvious reasons. He's always described as loud. THAT'S PAPYRUS!!! The ALL CAPS motherclucker who uses EXCLAMATION MARKS to an excessive degree!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Everything he says, everything he does, it's at MAX VOLUME, 24/7, 365... ¼.

Although, I rarely see Sans described as the opposite. He always uses lowercase (except for a few specific circumstances), and he's implied to have an accent. Sometimes I like to imagine his voice being kind of quiet and mumbly to contrast Papyrus' loud, clear voice.

Speak up, Sans.