#explodes. too much affection

[sunspot-ship]

11 and 13 for how would they say it f/o ask... :3

wraghh these ones are cute 🥺 thank you for sending an ask <333!!

11. "I like your company."

he always drags me out to go places/shopping, or he asks me to do a few chores with him because "it'd be so much more fun if we were doing together!" and it is <33

13. "You're important to me."

he's very different from me in that I can't imagine he would hold back anything he thinks, he's always just saying what's on his mind thoughtlessly. I think he would say exactly this just casually in the middle of a conversation, or as he's saying goodbye when I go somewhere ("stay safe, I'll miss you :)") and it would make my brain bluescreen probably. like...you can't just say stuff like that with no warning!!

[mossy-paws]

Subspace doodles (PHIGHTING! Mermaid au)

so I was thinking more about the PHIGHTING mermaid au I’m doing and. What if subspaces’ gas- instead of being like actual gas, was polluted oil? I think that could make for a really cool trope if I ever were to redesign him for it :3!

For the design notes in specific:

When out of control, his “gas” takes the form of polluted oil, in control (as in wearing his mask and tank) it gets filtered into something akin to toxic brine (in which long exposure to can cause a lot of issues, specifically different types of shock, breathing issues, etc). Although the brine isn’t too dangerous to be around in small amounts, it can be harmful over time.

for those wondering what ACTUAL brine water (or more specifically brine pools) are, it’s pretty much a large accumulation of highly concentrated saltwater (which usually is around 10 times saltier then the ocean surrounding it) For most sea animals this brine means instant death due to the fact that is has no oxygen in it as well as the high saline levels.

(Im hyper fixating again can you tell)

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Does my secret problem with object-head characters explain why I like Dr.Strangeglove so much

[shakingparadigm]

Hello it's the anon who said about the Ivan collar thing 😭. I come with some little brainrots.

Mizi sang "Black Sorrow" as a solo cover for unrequited love, with Sua being dead.

But the cover made me think. What if somehow Sua, in a way, is the Till to Mizi's Ivan. What if Sua, even if she loves Mizi back, never really fully indulged in it.

Specially in "My Clematis" where Mizi regarded Sua as a god, all I can imagine is Sua who always kept a perfect image in front of everyone including Mizi. Sua who never really showed her vulnerability to Mizi even though the other girl bared her entire heart. Just the idea that she somewhat kept a mask of pretend, letting Mizi be as blissful as it can be before the inevitable.

Aka tragic Yuri breaking my heart that Sua had to keep her own planned death a secret from her beloved because of one (and only) little selfish wish, which is to let Mizi live.

(Also sorry for spamming asks this frequently! I've been going through ALNST hyperfixations and your blog have a great humor.)

DONT EVER BE SORRY FOR SPAMMING ASKS! they make me really happy! Thank you so much! Sorry it takes me a while to answer them sometimes, my brains been pretty messy as of late, and I keep losing track of time.

That's a really interesting perspective to see it from. Regarding their relationship as a whole, I actually think it was the opposite. Sua only ever opened up to Mizi, and to everyone else she was timid and closed off. That was one of the reasons why their bond was so strong, they clung to each other. Sua retreats into herself, avoiding others in an attempt to protect her soft-hearted feelings, only sticking to Mizi because she loved and trusted her most. Mizi loved Sua like a dog because she was a cure for her loneliness back when Mizi felt isolated and afraid of being away from her home. They gave each other everything, which is why the thought of Mizi dying filled Sua with so much anguish that she'd rather die herself.

But if we're talking about the few weeks leading up to the first round of ALNST (you probably meant this, my bad) then definitely. She spent the last of her life counting down the hours, putting on a brave face and trying to make the remainder of her time with Mizi the best it could possibly be. I assume it was Mizi that proposed a tie. Sua played along, or maybe even believed in it at first, because ALIEN STAGE was something that they both looked forward to their whole lives, something that was held over their heads like a reward instead of the death sentence it actually was. Sua most likely started planning her death after she realized the possible consequences. The thing is, according to the MiziSua interview, a tie had never happened before in ALIEN STAGE. Which means that we don't know what happens if a tie actually does occur. It seems unlikely that ALIEN STAGE, which derives its stakes from the deaths of the contestants, would let both go forward thanks to a tie. I mean, if that happened, then everyone else would just decide to tie in order to keep each other alive, and where's the fun in a deathless season? Where's the stakes in that? It goes against everything ALIEN STAGE is built on. If a tie did happen, they most likely would have forced a situation where one of them would have to die anyway. It just lengthens the process and makes it more complicated. I like to think that, at some point, Sua realized this. If they tie, there's no guarantee that they both stay alive. In a tie situation, they might even randomly pick the contestant to be eliminated. The circumstances are uncertain and unpredictable, and within those hypotheticals Mizi dying is always an option. But if Sua adjusts her own performance level without Mizi knowing, she can ensure that the only person who has to die is herself. As stated before, Sua is soft-hearted. Her blank demeanor is indeed a mask for overwhelming feelings that lie beneath the surface. Mizi worships Sua, but Sua loves Mizi an incredible amount too. She must have loved her so much that Ivan, an exceedingly observant asshole (affectionate), picked up on it and was able to discern her intentions. Ivan criticizes Sua for choosing to sacrifice herself, calling her out for "playing hero", but most importantly, accusing her of dying only because she herself cannot handle the pain of losing someone she loves. She cannot fathom living a life where Mizi is dead, so she "runs away" from it by any means possible. He accuses her of being a hypocrite because the future that pains her to think about is one that she is about to inflict on her beloved. Is it an act of love or an act of selfishness? Is Ivan twisting her genuinely pure intentions and chastising her into believing that it makes her a bad person? Despite being hit with this crisis and crying over it, Sua decides to sacrifice herself anyway. And her happy mask was so impressive that Mizi failed to notice she was digging her own grave.

Sua not "indulging" in her love for Mizi is actually really interesting, and I can see how it can come off that way because Mizi is much more affectionate. But I actually think otherwise!

I think it's not really that she refused to indulge in her love, rather she indulged in it so much that she died to ensure she'd never have to live without it.

[smalltimidbean]

i agree with 🎂 anon, you're awesome and I always look forward to your posts!

YOU CAN'T FOLLOW UP NICE THINGS WITH MORE NICE THINGS!!! (silly!!!)

That is very nice of you to say, and it makes me very happy, so thank you!!!

[sunnyemiii]

Do NOT update me on that bitch unless he is DEAD (or doing so terribly it’s comical)

[hawnks]

I have a soft spot for jealous leads, mcs who aren’t charming or well liked, or even necessarily nice. I bet on losing dogs type characters. Rat girls and losers. More of that in stories, please <3

[sunny-prongs]

Reg' doesn't know how to ask for attention so when he want it he just stand close to the person he want attention from until they give it to him

Also when the say person start to give a bit too much affection he panic and run away while acting like he never wanted affection at all which everyone know is false

[seafoam-taide]

my freak wife

[avatarofwar]

i saw you talk about wolf a few times from sekiro and was wondering if you'd want to share more of your thoughts on him or sekiro as a whole, the game really interests me compared to other dark souls games so i wanted to ask

sorry for the late reply but oh boy do I have thoughts abt wolf. trying not to spoil the game, so I'm gonna refrain from talking about the story. might go into just restating known things about the game, but I'd much rather play it safe and not spoil the story

before going to that. the game is very much different from dark souls (setting wise, while taking place in a fictional country it is in a historical setting. I cannot comment on the setting properly bc I don't know much about the time period, however), most notably in the combat (primarily shifting from a dodge-centric playstyle to a parry-centric playstyle (significantly easier than dark souls/elden ring parrying, however), with dodges having significantly shorter i-frames and being very unreliable for dodging attacks). it's very different but something I really enjoy, even if I'm not as good as I am at typical soulsborne combat. it's really fun when you get the hang of it, and while I might not be The Best at it (which is mostly bc of how different it is from soulsborne games, so ofc I'm not as good at is as I am at the other fromsoft games I've played), it's something I can still enjoy

a huge thing about sekiro is the difference in how the story is told. in soulsborne games the story is something you have to figure out; progressing through the main path doesn't give you enough to piece everything together if you don't read any lore. with sekiro, however, the story is significantly more obvious, on account of the playable character having unique ties to the world and its characters, rather than going the soulsborne route of being one of many people (wording hard, but the chosen undead for example is no one special, just one of many undead trying to link the flame). it's a very different method of storytelling, but is still something really good. for as much as I adore having to actively hunt down lore and story in soulsborne games, it's also great experiencing story through natural game progression

wolf is also canonically disabled (loses his left arm at the start of the game) and has a really fucking cool prosthetic that is a whole part of the combat system (even though I personally keep forgetting to use it). so good for him. he deserves a prosthetic that can have deadly weaponry attached to it. like a mini-flamethrower. he deserves a mini-flamethrower, as a treat.

putting the wolf thoughts beneath a read more because this is getting long and I might spoil some stuff (mostly relationship with another character, I'll try to refrain from story spoilers. also spoilers in general, but there might be some), and he has definitely become a blorbo (additionally, content warning for abuse)

first of all. wolf makes me want to throw myself off a cliff and I mean this in the most positive way ever. he is great and I love him but man he needs so much fucking therapy and he doesn't even realise it (therapy probably doesn't exist in that time period, but besides the point). he is very much traumatised and has been heavily shaped by it and doesn't even know it.

prior to the events of the game (I forgot how long ago it was) he was orphaned by war and got taken in by owl, a shinobi and also a piece of fucking garbage. owl raises wolf to be a shinobi under the iron code, with the number one rule being loyalty to his father (owl), with his master (kuro, the divine heir) a close second (and also to give his life for his master if necessary. which is also a whole other thing to get into).

owl is very explicitly abusive. he raises wolf as a tool rather than a person, and that upbringing severely affects wolf as a character - he is an incredibly capable shinobi, but lacks any skills other than that; he does not know how to be a proper person, he is a loyal wolf, but he does not know how to be anything other than that. hell, without spoiling too much about the context, there is a cutscene in which owl actively attempts to guilt trip wolf, going as far as using fake tears (saying anything specific is very spoilery. this isn't even the only horrid thing he's done, but I'm trying to refrain from too many spoilers).

wolf canonically does not value himself without anyone to serve (we see this at the beginning of the game, as events prior to the start of the game not yet known about leads him to believe he has no one to serve, and thus no purpose, so he isolates himself from the world in a well for 3 years). while he does have compassion for others (most notable example being concern over victims of dragonrot), he starts off the game driven primarily by duty. he is loyal to a fault, willing to do anything for kuro, but also valuing his service to kuro more than himself (cannot remember the exact wording, but when kuro expresses concern for how many times wolf has died for him, wolf states that it does not matter as it was in service to him).

there's also the fact that wolf canonically eats uncooked rice and genuinely doesn't know - as a fully grown adult - you are supposed to cook it, which is... genuinely something awful if you truly think about it and what more it implies about his upbringing especially considering it's one of the most basic things you could learn how to make (just... says a lot about owl if you seriously think about it).

he is a loyal wolf, but he doesn't know how to be more than that. he doesn't know how to just... exist for himself, to be his own person separate of his duty and he doesn't even recognise just how fucked up it is, because how could he, when he was shaped into this as a child, when his own father wanted him to be nothing more than a tool to use.

I could say a lot more about his relationships with other characters (that are actually good people) and how it just. makes me lose my mind, but this post is almost 1k words. so, simply put, kuro genuinely caring about him makes me so fucking emotional, especially bc of owl; his father might be horrible and an abuser, he might not know how to be more than he was raised, but at the very least he can serve someone who actively cares about him and his wellbeing.

[icewindandboringhorror]

... how am I meant to get any sort of restful sleep when it's like 85F indoors in my bedroom at NIGHT .. hhhhhhhhhhhhhh

[omegamoo]

found some of my essays from a world history class i took... you know the essays you spend two nights prepping and panicking for and then scramble to write during the bell period... well i found one about the universal nature of war in response to a class project and What the Fuck was I On when writing that. What The Fuck

[livie-ee]

fuck why cant i study for the exams im supposed to study

[ourceliumnetwork]

what i wouldn't give to be able to consistently breathe through even like one of my nostrils

[colouredbyd]

The Boy Is Mine

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

summary: you’re quiet by nature, content in the background—until someone pushes too far. When a girl flirts with Remus, something shifts. With one kiss and a quiet claim, you remind everyone exactly who he ( and Sirius) belong to.

warnings: possessiveness, jealousy, strong language, suggestive content, heated kiss, and public displays of affection.

wc: 3.4k

a/n: i need both Remus and Sirius at the same damn time.

masterlist

You’ve never been the loudest in the room.

You don’t need to be. Not when Sirius is tossing his head back laughing beside you, all glittering chaos and charm, or when Remus leans in close, voice low and deliberate, like every word he says is meant only for you.

They fill the space so effortlessly—Sirius with his magnetic presence, Remus with his quiet gravity—and you find yourself fitting between them like a breath between heartbeats. Steady, constant and soft.

You like watching more than speaking. Not out of shyness exactly, but because you enjoy observing—feeling everything. It’s the way Remus’s thumb circles over your knee under the table without him even realizing. The way Sirius always saves you the last bite, even when he swears he won’t. You don’t need to be loud to be loved here.

They know you. They’ve always known you.

Sirius, who pulls you into the middle of the common room and spins you in dizzy circles until you’re breathless with laughter. Remus, who presses his nose into your hair when the world feels too sharp and mumbles poetry against your skin. 

Between the two of them, you’ve never had to shout to be heard. They listen in the silence. They love you in the quiet.

But sometimes, even the quiet hums with something fierce.

And today, it’s starting to burn.

The loud music thumps through the walls, pulsing in your veins, but all you can hear is Remus’s voice rising above the chatter of the party. He’s talking to a girl, one whose name doesn’t matter.

because you’re already irritated.

Sirius is speaking beside you—his voice low and animated, probably bantering with James about something as thrillingly idiotic as who cheated in the last round of Exploding Snap—but the words barely register. They fade into the background like the bass of the music humming through the party, the way laughter spills and drips from every corner of the Gryffindor common room like syrup.

You’re curled up beside him on the leather couch, soft and familiar, half draped across his lap like you belong there, because you do. His palm is warm against your skin, fingers lazy as they trace circles over your thigh, an unconscious kind of touch that says mine without needing the word.

But your attention isn’t on Sirius.

It’s fixed—razor sharp and unblinking—on the girl across the room.

She’s all lip gloss and bright laughter, the kind of girl who doesn’t walk into a room so much as glitter through it. Her blouse is buttoned just low enough to draw the eye, her skirt just short enough to be a statement. She leans in closer to Remus like she’s in a slow-motion daydream, twirling a strand of hair around her finger as she giggles at something he said.

Except Remus isn’t laughing.

He’s smiling, but you know that smile. It’s the strained one. The tight-lipped, please-don’t-make-this-weird smile he gives when someone crosses the line and he’s too damn kind to push them away.

And she—well. She’s not backing off.

Your fingers tighten around the stem of your glass. Not enough to shatter it, but enough to feel it, to ground yourself before the rising tide inside you gets too high. The jealousy doesn’t burn. No, it doesn’t scream or sputter like some childish tantrum. It’s quiet. Sharp. Ice in your veins, snow behind your ribs. It’s precise.

You watch her touch his arm, watch her eyes flutter and her voice pitch just so. You watch Remus stand there with all that quiet discomfort in his shoulders and all that unnecessary politeness keeping him rooted in place.

And something inside you shifts.

You’re not the loud one at these parties. You’re not the girl who shouts or struts or demands. You’re the one who stays curled up in the lap of a boy with stardust in his smile, sipping your drink while the chaos unfurls around you. You’re the calm in their storm, the softness they return to.

But not tonight.

Because tonight, someone is trying to touch what’s yours.

And whether Remus knows it yet or not, whether that girl ever figures out just how royally she’s miscalculated, one thing is already certain.

You are about to stop being the quiet one.

“Moony’s got his fan club going tonight, huh?” Sirius says, his tone casual, his fingers playing with a loose thread on the hem of your sleeve. “I swear, every time he talks to a girl, she looks like she’s ready to devour him.”

You hum, an absent sound, not really acknowledging him. Your gaze stays fixed on Remus and that damn girl, the way she’s tossing her hair back and laughing too loudly.

“You okay, dove?” His voice drops a little, his fingers tracing the line of your spine with a slow, deliberate motion.

You want to lie. You want to say it’s fine, that you’re just tired or distracted, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you give a small shake of your head, the fluttering in your chest too strong to ignore.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, a little too quickly. “Just… thinking.”

Sirius’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t push. He knows you well enough to sense when you need space, but tonight, there’s something different. The energy in the room feels electric, like it’s just waiting for a spark.

Remus laughs again from across the room, and this time, the girl reaches up to touch his arm, her fingers trailing lightly along his sleeve. The sight, the sound, the way her body leans just a little too close to his, sends a pang of something sharp through you. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her lean in, her lips too close to his ear as she whispers something.

Your fingers grip the edge of the couch, your nails digging into the fabric. You feel like you’re going to snap at any moment, and you’re so sick of it.

Sirius seems to notice the shift in the air. His hand halts on your back, and he turns his head toward Remus and the girl, then back to you. His expression softens, understanding settling in. He leans forward, his voice low as he speaks, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“Love, I think we’ve reached a new level here,” he says, voice laced with something almost teasing. “You’ve been staring at him for ages now.”

You swallow hard, trying to keep the fluttering in your chest under control. “I’m not staring,” you say, but even you can hear the edge in your voice.

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh? ‘Cause I think you’ve definitely been staring. You want me to go over there and break it up?”

“No,” you snap, a little too quickly, and then you freeze, realizing just how harsh you sound. You soften your tone, but the words still feel like they’re cutting you open. “I… I don’t know.”

Sirius doesn’t push you, but he watches you carefully, his lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

You shift uncomfortably, your gaze returning to Remus and the girl. It’s like a magnet pulling you in, the way she laughs again, her hand resting on his shoulder now, fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

The thought makes you want to scream.

You watch the girl lean in closer, her breath light against his ear as she says something you can’t hear, but you can see it in the way her lashes flutter and her lips curl. It’s an obvious flirtation, the kind of thing that would make anyone else swoon, but you just feel your stomach twist in knots. Remus gives a tight, polite smile, the one he always does when he’s too kind to be rude, but you know that smile too well. It’s a mask, a shield, and you can see right through it. He’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t stop her.

The touch lingers. And Remus—sweet, gentle, infuriating Remus—doesn’t stop her.

He doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t step back. He doesn’t even glance in your direction.

And maybe that’s the worst part.

Maybe he’s just being polite. Maybe he’s too soft-spoken for his own good. Maybe he thinks you don’t mind, that you’re tucked up on the couch beside Sirius, warm and safe and unbothered. Maybe he’s forgotten that while you may be quiet, you’re not blind.

But oh, you care.

You care enough that your drink is forgotten in your hand, the condensation sliding over your fingers like cold sweat. You care enough that your jaw clenches tight, the muscle ticking with a quiet fury that pulses behind your ribs. There’s a pressure building in your chest, a weight that has nothing to do with insecurity and everything to do with possession.

You’ve always known what’s yours.

And Remus?

He is yours.

The room around you begins to blur, voices fading into background noise, like someone’s turned the volume down on the rest of the party. The flickering firelight, the chatter of students, the low buzz of magical music—all of it dulls. All you can see is the way she’s looking at him, lips parted in a practiced little smile, eyes batting as if she’s never had to work hard for attention in her life.

You hear her laugh—sharp and high and entirely insincere—and it cuts through you like a blade. Remus chuckles along with her, and it’s that sound, that soft little sound of his, that makes something in your spine snap straight. His eyes catch the light just right, that familiar glint of mischief and charm you’ve seen a thousand times when he’s teasing you softly beneath the covers, and it stings more than you’d like to admit.

And suddenly, you are no longer the quiet girl curled in the corner.

You are no longer the soft one who waits patiently for your boys to come home to you.

You are standing up, not with a shout or a dramatic flourish, but with a kind of cold certainty, like the sea deciding to rise. Sirius shifts beside you instinctively, his hand brushing your back as he senses the change in the air, his voice dipping with curiosity.

“Love?” he says quietly, brows raising. “Everything alright?”

You don’t answer. Not yet.

Because your eyes are still locked on the girl in the too-tight blouse and the too-pretty smile and the entirely wrong assumption that she has any right to touch your Remus like she belongs there.

She doesn’t.

And she’s about to learn exactly why.

It never felt like you needed to compete for Remus’s attention. He had always been yours in that quiet, unspoken way—his careful gestures, the soft smiles he gave you when no one was looking, the way he always made sure you were okay, even when you didn’t ask. You had a bond, something deeper than words. But now, watching him allow her to invade that space, something inside you snaps.

She’s leaning into him like he’s already hers, one manicured hand lingering on his forearm, like she doesn’t see the slight pullback in his posture. Like she doesn’t notice the way his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Sirius’s hand slips off your thigh, stunned. “Where’re you going?”

“To get what’s mine.” you say, and your voice is soft, sultry, but it slices through the noise like a blade.

James chokes on his drink. Lily turns, eyebrows lifting as she watches you stalk forward, hips swaying, jumper slouching off one bare shoulder. You hear someone mutter, “Bloody hell.” and you don’t even need to look to know Marlene is probably grinning like a wolf.

The girl is still touching Remus. Still laughing.

You don’t give her the chance to speak. You don’t give him a moment to explain, or to blink, or to pretend he doesn’t feel the air shift as you close the distance between you like a storm cloaked in silk.

Your fingers slip beneath the hem of his jumper, curl tightly into the soft wool, and tug. Hard. Hard enough that he stumbles forward, just one step, just enough to crash into your gravity.

His eyes find yours, startled and wide, and for a heartbeat he forgets where he is. The party, the music, the girl whose perfume is still clinging to the air around him—all of it vanishes the moment your lips catch his.

It is not a kiss built from politeness or affection. It is not the kind of thing meant for privacy or delicacy.

This kiss is war.

It’s bruising and slow and devastating, like a spell whispered in the middle of a battlefield. Your hand tangles in his curls and tugs, just enough to make him gasp into your mouth. Your other hand slides down to his belt, fingers brushing over the buckle, teasing with the lightest hint of promise. You tilt your head to deepen it, your lips parting just slightly, just enough to taste him.

He groans, low and helpless, the sound caught between your mouths, and you smile against him, smug and sinful.

When you finally pull away, his lips are pink and glistening and parted like he’s about to say something but hasn’t figured out what language he speaks anymore. His hands are still hovering at your hips, and his chest is rising with uneven breath, eyes clouded with something that’s definitely not confusion.

You turn to the girl, and she looks like she’s just witnessed something religious and blasphemous at the same time. Her mouth is hanging open. Her expression is frozen in that awkward no-man’s-land between horror and disbelief.

“Oh,” you say sweetly, voice thick with honey and venom, “were you still talking? Only he seems a bit busy now.”

She blinks. Opens her mouth. Closes it. You don’t give her time to think. You trail your fingers down the front of Remus’s chest, slowly, like you’re remembering the way his body feels under your hands and enjoying every second of it. You play with the collar of his shirt, letting your nails drag across the fabric, soft and sure.

Your eyes never leave hers.

“I mean,” you go on, voice quieter now, conversational in a way that is somehow even more intimidating, “I don’t blame you. Honestly. Look at him. He’s got that whole clever boy thing going on, right? The kind of boy who knows all the answers in class and still somehow makes you want to climb into his lap and ruin his concentration. And don’t even get me started on that body—tall and lean and unfair, and the scars…” you let your fingers trail over his chest again, nails teasing the fabric, “Body built like a sin under those clothes, too bad only me and Sirius get to see it though.” 

A grin spreads across your face, wide and wicked like a cheshire cat.

Remus lets out a sound that’s definitely not family friendly and buries his face in your neck for a second, either to breathe you in or to hide the fact that he might actually combust.

James lets out a strangled sound from across the room. “What the actual hell is going on?”

Lily is watching with wide, fascinated eyes, looking between you and the girl like she’s witnessing a lioness dismantle a bunny in slow motion. Marlene, from her spot near the fireplace, raises her drink in silent toast and mutters, “Finally.”

You lean in close to Remus, pressing your lips to the shell of his ear. “But here’s the thing,” you whisper, just loud enough for the girl to still hear. 

“He’s mine.”

Then you pull back and look her dead in the eye, your gaze soft but lethal.

“And I don’t share.”

The girl blinks once. Twice. Then turns with all the grace of someone trying not to run.

Remus just stares at you for a long moment, breathless, hands still planted on your waist like he’s afraid to let go in case the earth tilts and he floats away.

“What the hell just happened?” he asks, voice low, rough, and wrecked.

Sirius appears beside you like smoke, sliding his arm around your waist as he grins like you’ve hung the bloody stars for him.

The girl’s mouth parts, clearly searching for a clever retort, something sharp or self-righteous or maybe even pathetic to claw her dignity back from the floor where you left it. But the words never come. Her lips tremble like she’s buffering. You don’t give her the chance to reboot.

Instead, with calm that borders on cruelty, you turn back to Remus and brush your lips against the corner of his mouth. Not a full kiss this time, but something quieter, more dangerous. A period at the end of a sentence she was never invited to read. 

You feel the way he freezes for just a moment, breath hitching as your fingers slide up to rest at the base of his throat, just enough pressure to remind him—and everyone watching—exactly who he belongs to.

The common room is stunned into silence. Even the portrait hole seems to creak softer, like the whole castle is holding its breath.

And then James, bless his nosy little soul, practically falls off the arm of the couch. He stares at you with something like religious awe, eyes as wide as Galleons, hand clutching his drink like a lifeline.

“That,” he says reverently, voice cracking with disbelief, “was the hottest thing I have ever witnessed. And I saw Sirius in a crop top once.”

Sirius doesn’t even bother to pretend he’s unaffected. He slumps back against the couch, one hand dragging through his hair like he’s trying to keep his brain from melting. His grin is crooked and wild, like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“Merlin’s tits,” he says, almost reverent. “I think I’m in love. Again.”

Lily, sitting upright with her legs crossed like she’s hosting a panel discussion, blinks slowly. Her jaw is slightly ajar, her drink forgotten on the floor.

“Did she just… flirt and threaten simultaneously?” she asks, clearly reevaluating everything she thought she knew about you.

Marlene doesn’t even bother to hide her grin. She claps once, loud and delighted, and leans forward with sparkling eyes.

“Oh, I love her,” she announces with glee. “Someone give that girl a crown and a throne and maybe a leather corset. She just out-Slytherined the entire House.”

You don’t look away from Remus. He’s still breathless, a little dazed, his lips parted like he’s forgotten how to speak. His hands are at your waist now, gripping softly like he needs to touch you just to make sure you’re real.

You lean in, voice velvet-sweet, and say, “Now Remmy, were you going to let her keep touching you or should I start hexing?”

Sirius, meanwhile, is leaning back like a man thoroughly entertained, one arm draped across Remus’ shoulder with a love-sick gaze in his eyes.

Remus just blinks for a moment, his mouth parted, completely undone. Then a sound escapes him, surprised and delighted, something between a laugh and a groan, like you’ve just knocked the wind out of him in the best way.

“I think I’m in love with you all over again,” he says, a little dazed.

And then Sirius leans over, as if conjured by the heat of the moment, slipping in behind you like gravity itself gave him no choice. His hands slide over your hips, warm and certain, like they’ve always belonged there. He leans in until his mouth brushes your neck, breath hot and voice lower than sin.

“That,” he murmurs, lips grazing your skin, “was art. You’ve officially ruined me. I’ll never recover.”

You shrug, casual as anything, but your pulse is thundering and your eyes are glowing and the adrenaline is still singing in your bones like an aria. “Good,” you say simply, and it lands like a spell.

The common room hasn’t even recovered. Conversations haven’t resumed. Heads are still tilted in your direction like they’re not quite sure what just happened, if they witnessed a declaration or a detonation. And maybe it was both. You were the quiet girl. The sweet one. The one with gentle touches and soft smiles who moved like a secret in a room full of noise.

But tonight? Tonight, they watched you stand like you were carved from something divine, watched you kiss Remus like he was yours and always had been, watched you claim your place not as an afterthought, but as a force of nature wrapped in wool and confidence.

And Remus? He’s still holding your waist like he might never let go. Sirius looks like he’d fight anyone who even breathes in your direction the wrong way.

Together, they look ready to tear the world apart if it means keeping you. And somehow, the quiet girl has become the storm they’d die for

[dragonpyre]

Fav thing about 9-1-1 are the character quirks

The captain is basically a five star chef. This doesn't affect the plot at all, he just really loves cooking

The senior paramedic loves karaoke. He snagged his hot wife this way

Second paramedic could have been a doctor. She decided not to cuz she loves her bestie too much

The bisexual boy is probably suicidal. This is never addressed

The bisexual's bestie has repressed every emotion ever known to man. This explodes in his face very impressively