#this is honestly just dialogue

[sunshinemayhem]

second chances - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 807

“Sirius, can we talk?” Remus makes an aborted motion at Sirius’s retreating back. James and Peter have already left, and transfiguration doesn't start for another thirty minutes. It’s the best time to have this conversation.

Sirius pauses, then raises an eyebrow, leaning against the door. His face is unreadable.

Remus nods. He’s grateful, at least, that Sirius hasn’t ignored him. “I’m sorry,” he says, unconsciously twisting the hem of his shirt.

Silence.

Remus takes a deep breath. This is harder than expected, but he promised himself he’d stop running away. He looks up, meeting Sirius’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, “I screwed up. I didn’t think of how I was hurting you. I.. I was afraid. I was so afraid of losing you –of losing what we had– that I chose to break my own heart before you could do it.” In the back of his head, he questions the Sorting Hat’s sanity for the millionth time.

Remus continues, “It’s not an excuse. I really am sorry.” He swallows. “I’m also sorry that I’m here now, putting you in this position, wanting to make up after I recklessly tore us apart.” He laughs, an ugly thing. “Merlin, I’m a selfish bastard, aren’t I? I’m sorry.” He’s long given up on eye contact. Remus stares at the ground, refusing to blink. He takes a deep breath.

“I.. I think I’m in love with you.” Remus thinks he hears a hitch in Sirius’s throat, but he can’t be sure. The next part is difficult, but it needs to be said. He owes it to the years of friendship between them.

His words come out faster. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I get it. Really, I do. I’m a pessimist, I’m flawed, I get in my own head. I’m trying, but I’m not perfect. And- And if you’d rather stay friends, I’ll be okay. Well, not okay but I’ll be fine-” Now it was Remus’s breath hitching. He blinks, then ducks his head, swiping his arm against his eyes. He’s humiliated himself enough.

There’s silence again, but Remus has finished his daily quota of courage. “I guess that’s all I had to say.” he shuffles his feet, lifts his head, looking anywhere but Sirius. He laughs once, bitter. “You know, I’d really appreciate a response.”

It’s quiet. Remus swallows. “I guess silence is an answer.” He screws his face up, willing himself not to cry. He really had fucked up, hadn’t he? He wonders if he’ll be okay.

“You-” He stops. He wants Sirius to leave. He starts again, “You’ll have to give me some time to deal with it, you understa-” Warm hands cup his face, and his words get stuck in his throat. They gently guide him to look forward, and Remus’s eyes widen as he realizes that Sirius –Sirius, who’d rather be humiliated publicly by Snape than cry– has puffy, red eyes. He still looks gorgeous, the git.

“Don’t cry, Moony.” he croaks, voice cracking after being silent for so long. Remus feels him gently cup his cheek, wiping away tears. Oh. He hadn’t realized that he was crying. He guesses willpower can only do so much. He feels exhausted, suddenly. 

Sirius is still talking, words tumbling over each other, frenetic. “You shouldn’t ever be sad. Never, never, never–” he cuts himself off. “You deserve to be happy. Always.”

Remus looks away, his face still being held hostage by the tenderness in Sirius’s movements. He can’t be comforted. What Sirius isn’t saying cuts like a sharp edge. He can feel acid at the back of his throat, and curses himself for expecting a different answer.

“Look at me,” Sirius says, his voice gentle. It rarely is, and Remus can’t fight it.

“I think I’m in love with you too.” Remus is caught off guard. There’s no way to misinterpret that. The voices in his head can’t contest it. 

“Don’t ever say that you’re not enough.” His voice is steady now. “I’m definitely more flawed than you are. I’m cruel, I’m superficial, I have too many trust issues.” Remus’s eyebrows draw together. He doesn’t agree, but his mouth has decided that that’s enough words for today. Sirius understands, like always. They’d always been like that, having conversations with glances, not needing words. In hindsight, that had become a bad thing when they’d stopped communicating. 

“Shh, let me finish. I’m sorry too. I didn’t know you were feeling like this. I noticed that you were acting differently, but I was too afraid that you were having second thoughts about me. I wanted to pretend everything was alright so that it didn’t end. ” Remus, again, wants to interrupt, but he’s stopped by Sirius’s earnest stare.

Sirius leans in. “I’m selfish too,” he whispers, “how about we try again?”

And just like that, Remus dares to hope.

[expelliarmus]

[beif0ngs]

everyone on tumblr @Buggy the 🤡 right now 

[khalliys]

We're not so different, you and I. Part 1, Part2

From Critical Role C2 E92: Home Is Where the Heart Is

[gen-toon]

[blackjackkent]

I've lived in this cess-pit longer than you've been alive. We can compare stinks, if you would like?

[xiewho]

obsessed with their dynamic actually

based on this post

[yasmeensh]

Zelda 2 Link my beloved

[essektheylyss]

Fearne had, in true Fearne fashion, wrapped herself like a personal pashmina around Dorian, which left Orym to curl into his chest.

They had slept this way dozens of times before. Fearne’s blackened fingers wrapped tightly around his forearm as she snored loudly into Dorian’s ear. Orym’s head rested on Dorian’s bicep, his arms folded together between them, and his bare feet were gingerly resting upon Dorian’s thighs just above the knees, as Dorian had coiled enough to let Fearne’s fuzzy leg stretch over his hip. They were exhausted, and this was familiar, and he should’ve been fast asleep.

But Orym’s mind buzzed.

Fearne had always been a strong source of heat, but now she was a furnace, and even without covers it was too warm. But Fearne was not the reason why Orym’s skin burned where it met Dorian’s.

He was a fucking grown man. He was fully capable of admitting that.

Admitting it didn’t change it.

Neither did it change his awareness that Dorian had been too still for the past hour, his breath too precise and measured to be natural as it fell upon Orym’s hair. Orym was not going to presume that the cause of this was the same thing afflicting him; there were plenty of other reasons Dorian would be lying awake tonight.

“My family will find your brother,” he murmured finally, and Dorian’s breath wavered for just an instant before he regained his composure and returned to his measured, singer’s breathing. It was so slight that no one else could’ve noticed it, but Orym noticed. “You said there’s a body— the Tempest can bring him back, or Fearne, honestly—“

“I know,” Dorian answered, and this too was so faint that no one but Orym could’ve heard. “I know,” he said again, as though this one was only to appease himself.

“Do you think… do you think any of Opal is still in there?”

“I don’t know. I could barely tell what was in there—“ he cut himself off. “I couldn’t even help my brother. I think Fy’ra Rai might’ve… she must’ve seen something. I hope so,” he added, inhaling, trying to capture an airy tone that he didn’t fully manage. “The Spider Queen doesn’t deserve her. She doesn’t deserve anything.”

Orym had nothing to say to this. He hadn’t cared what the gods did or didn’t deserve in weeks, but now he could see the vein of fury that sharpened Dorian’s edges. It didn’t frighten him the way it had frightened him months ago, when things had been simpler, when there was not a war to be fought. It simply saddened him. “I’m so sorry about Opal,” he said, after the silence had lingered. “But I’m,” he breathed out a single dark laugh at himself, his selfishness, “I’m real glad it wasn’t you.”

Dorian’s laugh matched his own. “I suppose that is a silver lining.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Orym admitted. It was easier to keep his voice from cracking at a whisper. “I’ve thought about seeing you again so many times— I wish the circumstances were better—“

“I’m here,” Dorian said, for the second time today. “The circumstances tried very hard to make even that impossible, but— I’m here.”

Orym pulled his arm gently out of Fearne’s grasp and raised his hand to Dorian’s cheek. It was too dark to see the tinge of lavender against his skin, but Orym could feel the warmth bloom beneath his fingers. He still couldn’t bring himself to attribute his friend’s insomnia to anything so self-serving as his own, but perhaps it was one factor.

He pulled his hand back. Was there a flash of disappointment in Dorian’s eyes? He couldn’t tell in the dark. But he brushed his fingers together, drawing upon the wellspring of life within the ground beneath this hastily-erected encampment. The Hellcatch looked like a barren wasteland to most, but that life was still present even here.

Perhaps not now, but after a rainy season, the valley would bloom with wildflowers. The seeds waited in the earth for their time to sprout. Life went on, even in the darkest of places.

He produced a small stalk of life from his hands, and held out the tiny bundle of forget-me-nots to Dorian.

He should’ve said that they were for Cyrus, to remember him by. He wanted to say that they were for Dorian himself, that a day hadn’t gone by that he hadn’t thought of him. He didn’t speak at all as Dorian’s hand wrapped around Orym’s, pinching the stem beneath his fingers but not letting go.

“Orym,” Dorian breathed, looking from the flowers to his face. Then a strange expression came over his face, a wrinkle of consternation as he stared into the middle distance. “Fearne, are you braiding my hair?”

Orym lifted his head an inch to peer past Dorian’s ear. He had noticed that the snoring had stopped, but he’d been too caught up in the conversation to process it. Fearne’s wide eyes stared back with perfect innocence, her hands indeed weaving Dorian’s hair into a loose braid.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” she whispered quickly. “I’m totally not here.”

When Orym dropped his head back to Dorian’s arm, he was met with a crooked smile. It was not meant to be disarming, but it disarmed him anyway.

“Just like old times, eh?” he said, but his hand was still around Orym’s.

Carefully, Orym moved to tuck the flower behind Dorian’s ear, bringing both of their hands with him, and then laced their fingers together instead. “No,” he said, and tucked his head so that his brow rested against Dorian’s chin, and pressed their entwined hands to his lips. “But I think that’s okay.”

[arttsuka]

Can u draw Jedidiah and Octavius having a movie night using Larry's phone please 🙏??

I love your art sm!

Aww, thank you ♡

What movie are they watching? (Pretend there is something on that phone screen pls)

[parasitoidism]

He really is so funny this gay little thing drinking a 100 yen mystery sludge drink at a shithole bar in the demon infested hell world that exists underneath his house and he’s like excuse me sir.. a napkin? May I please have a napkin for my little samurai face… unbelievable. You drink the pissy shitty special and just wipe your chin off with your sleeve like everyone else in Tokyo. There’s 100 devils outside. Get real

[sorunort]

(You are bound to the Universe's will the same way the moon is bound to this planet, the same way the planet is bound to the sun, the same way a puppet is bound it's strings!!!!!!)

top ten pieces of dialogue ive screencapped because of how normal it is and how normal it made me feel

[anna-scribbles]

what a shame, i can see it all now that we’re through

- firearm by lizzy mcalpine

(chapter 5 of call it even is making me feel bonkers insane. thank u @sha-nwa)

[lunarcloak]

Not enough people are talking about this. No, I don't mean the Rinsagi breakup or Rivalry breakup or whatever.

I mean this.

All those jokes about Rin and Isagi being the same... Because their expressions, when confronted with such a sheer, impossibly high gap in ability are the exact same. Really, this particular football maneuver is not rare. It has happened plenty of times.

But only Rin and Isagi have reacted this way to bring overthrown in such a callous, effortless manner.

And not to mention, Rin himself. The words he's heard come from Sae, every time this happens to him. "What have you been doing in Japan? You'll never be able to surpass me. "

"With such a lukewarm existence... You're a failure of a rival. "

Even when he's trying to beat Sae, he cannot help but be Sae. Learn from Sae. Acknowledge Sae. And he sees himself in Isagi, just as Isagi sees himself in Rin. The pages after this are of Isagi acknowledging that, while their drives and reasons may be different, they are both MORE than willing to put everything. EVERYTHING. On the line.

The same blood runs in their veins. And Isagi and Rin are absolutely delightful rivals.

[zebracakesarecopingmechanisms]

“Oh but listening to mario noises for an hour would be so annoying!”

have you ever played any mario game in your life.

[pokimoko]

Why fight people when your time can be better spent bantering?