#‘remus it’s a good thing you have a mustache | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dufferpuffer · 5 months ago

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Dude, I need someone to simp over David Thewlis with and I have no one to go to. I have a feeling I know your opinion about David Thewlis as Remus Lupin (and I think it's a positive one? correct me if I'm wrong, I know some people don't think he did the character justice).

To be honest, I don't think the movies did his character justice, but I think David Thewlis was THE cast for him. The movies made him too soft, too gentle, too perfect. Book Remus is a lot more polarized than that. For every soft quality, he has a YIKES counterpart that is never shown in the movies. The only time we truly see this "yikes" counterpart is the Shrieking Shack scene when he smirks menacingly at Sirius and you think he's a villain. David pulled that off really good. I saw the movie before reading the book (I was a young kid at that time and PoA was too much to read for me) and I felt cheated, I suddenly didn't think I could trust him anymore.

The thing David Thewlis pulled off best, imo, is the fatherly quality of Remus. I know, Remus is a pathetic man with an avoidant personality, but we can't deny he is fatherly. And I feel that, no matter what movie I watch with David in it, the fatherly vibes just radiate from him. In a way I am glad it is like that in the movies because I use PoA as a coping mechanism in life. Stressed? PoA. Sad? PoA. Crisis? PoA. David absolutely nailed the comfy professor aura. Everything about him in PoA is inviting, it draws you in. His voice, his smile, the way he carries himself, his quiet strength. Who could've done it better? I love him.

Enjoy this young David Thewlis edit that I'm obsessed with. Cheers my tumblr friend <3

https://www.tiktok.com/@.dearlupin/video/7410813583577091334

David Threwlis is a fucking GEM and the PERFECT pick for the character in every aspect, yes. I can't think of how anyone could actually think otherwise. He looks perfect and acts perfect.

To the point where I would actually be happy if he played Remus AGAIN for the TV series or whatever - even though he looks so much older. Play up the fact he looks 'older than his age' or do some makeup, I dunno, I don't care. I would be alright with it.

I don't think any of the movies do anyone justice, TBH - ignoring the fact that of course things will have to be trimmed and simplified. I think most people agree though that the way they chose to do so was destructive and missed the point of the overarching story.

OotP and HBP were enjoyable as individual movies - but cut out so, so much that it damages the series as a whole. OotP especially should have been two movies, to REALLY get to know the Order Members, the adult world harry desperately wants to enter - revisit Lupin and Sirius, get attached to the real Moody - set up Tonks... maybe end the first one with Dumbledore leaving...?

But some actors pulled through wonderfully with the limited time they were given to portray their role, Alan Rickman of course being one - and I think David Threwlis is an underrated other. He did fucking BEAUTIFULLY and it made up for imo a half-assed performance from Gary Oldman as Sirius. He has perfect aesthetic and his fatherly moments with Harry were gorgeous... but most of the time he felt like his heart wasn't in it.

Remus, in the movies, HAD to be soft... but always carry a touch of coldness. A comfortable room but the heater isn't on. A cup of tea but you're asked to leave right after. Gentle eyes that pierce. Slightly odd expressions that feel kind, but also... off. He nailed that. Absolutely. That softness that makes you want to cozy up close, but a constant distance that makes you wonder why. Also the mustache was absolute genius. If only they gave him greys...

THIS LOOK? Underrated. SO MUCH PACKED INTO IT. Displeasure, surprise, 'oh shit im in danger' - but then forced innocence, a bit of weariness, a cheeky idea...

How he came out of the darkness, too - Snape specifically calling Lupin to show him the map was meaningful in the books, but Remus walking out of the pitch black was symbolic in the movies. It was a decent change. THIS is when I felt a 'Hm...' about Remus. (I saw it as an adult though, first time last year. I had no idea I'd love him so much.)

I LOVVEEEE going on and on about Remus being a wet tissue paper - because he is so often mischaracterized in so many different ways... but he IS good. He IS strong, compassionate, wise, clever... Fatherly. He will put himself aside to comfort someone in need. He just can't do that for himself. He will punish himself for the things he is gentle with in others.

"His voice, his smile, the way he carries himself, his quiet strength. Who could've done it better? I love him." YEAHYEAHYEAH David can pack layers of depth into every movement he makes. His little head bobbles, the ways his eyes pin on something and stare, his control of exactly how he smiles... ITS SO GOOD AHH

Normally a link to tiktok earns an instant vaporization but you get a pass aight I wont kill you God he's so wonky looking, look at him, he is delightful, I am going to spread him on toast with my vegemite

#hp #david threwlis #remus lupin #love you remus #remus my beloved

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futurewriter2000 · 2 years ago

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Warm Enough

A/N: Spent all day writing this with some distractions in between but I love it! LOVE IT! I still got it.

REQUEST: Post!Azkaban Sirius is really burned out with Grimmauld Place but he absolutely refuses to go outside in the snow no matter how many jackets he has on bc the cold reminds him of the dementors in Azkaban and reader helps him work through it.

(REQUESTS ARE CLOSED)

He slept... and slept... and slept...

The curtains were covering the little light that was trying to make way to that darkened room- the room that never changed, not one thing was moved since he left it. His desk was covered in papers from his Hogwarts days, some awful written essays about potions for Professor Slughorn and there were drawings of werewolves, vampires, ghouls and charicature of Remus and Peter from their boy ages. Peter had overly large eyes and thick glasses stuck on him, mustache and some pimples, meanwhile Remus had large ears, awfully crooked nose and half missing teeth. It was funny back then because James and Sirius both drew that together during Arithmancy class. James had a talent for drawing, everybody that knew him knew that and Sirius, growing up by his side, managed to pick that up as well. Never good as James... in anything... James was always better. So why was it that it had to be James the one that was murdered and not him. Sirius would give anything to have switched places. James would handle all of this so much better than he did.

Sirius’ sides were hurting from laying in the bed but it was as if the gravity was pulling him into the matress. His pillow felt uncomfortable though and so did every position he tried to fall back asleep. He hasn’t looked much around his room since he came back. He hasn’t noticed the past, whteher that was a conscious decision or sub-conscious. All he ever saw was his bed that always seemed to pull him into slumber. Why he woke up? The dreams started to turn into nightmares. Memories would hunt him, sometimes good memories from his boy days and sometimes memories from his 20′s- those he would suppose to enjoy the most. He didn’t. He spent it in the cold and darkness, that was why the bed was so inviting. It was warm, so warm and comforting.

He heard a knock on the door and a head peered through. He lifted his head a bit, only to see the shape or the little sign to know who it was.

“May I come in?” said the voice.

He wailed quietly and shuffled himself amont the silk sheets. Maybe he did despise his family but at least they bought silk.

“I will take that as a yes.” the person shuffled in the room and closed the door. “Blimey, Sirius. What are you- a vampire?” the curtains broke open and there was more light in the room, shining over every piece of furniture that hid in the dark for all these years. The person opened the door widely and the freezing, sharp cold burst in against the skin, causing the reaction of goosebumps.

“I’d like to sleep.”

“It’s three pm.”

“I’ll get up at four.” he shuffled his head in the sheets as the cold reached his nose far too quick.”

He could feel the infamous glare- the one only you could make to make him quirk a smile. You crossed your arms over and smirked.

“So this is your room.” you let go of the hold and let your hands roam free over the furniture. “It does match your personality quite well- OH! A pony bike!” you laughed and made your way to it. Blue and a bit dusty but it would still probably work if you tried it.

He peeked through the sheets and started to watch you wander.

For some odd reason, you wore pink shirt and a black trainer. He’s not used to you wearing such light colours, especially pink. You were more of a moddy, dark teenager as he remembered, just like most of them were. Your figure was womanly, curves in all the right places and your hands- your whole body moved so delicatly, elegantly over his room.

You came over his desk and saw the drawings hiddent underneath the paper.

‘James’ - you thought and smiled as you saw his usual drawing style. Your smile widened at the sight of the charicatures. You didn’t want to open this theme though. Not in front of him. Not when he slept for so long in the darkness of his own home. You knew this subject always opened a wound in him- a wound that resulted in fury and revenge.

“Cannot believe you still have Slughorn’s paper.” you grabbed it and started reading it, laughing midway. “And it’s horrible.” you laughed and he rolled his eyes, laying on his back.

“Well, I despised Potions and that man was all about Snape and Lily being the best of the best of his favorite, perfect little apprentices.” he mocked and you laughed, making his way towards him.

You laid on the bed next to him, placing your arms on top of his chest as you did almost 20 years ago. The two of you never dated but you both were in the same friendgroup. Back then you found him quite childish and annoying but you’ve always cared about him. It was a bit sad there was only three of you left... four if you count the rat Peter.

He smiled at the sight. He never told you that back then but whenever you did that, drunk or not, he always felt such a rush of heat rush his body. His heart would go into a whole new world of high rollercoaster rides and Merlin, the face you made- the look you gave him with those glimmering eyes- the glimmer that never seemed to go away throughout the years. He felt himself sweat onto his perfect silk and the cold never seemed too cooling enough to bring down his tempeture.

“I miss those times sometimes.” you said, looking into his eyes as he gazed into yours.

“Yeah... I never imagined it would en up like this, you know?”

“There can still be a happy ending, you know?” you said, drawing circles on his chest but he hated that because it made him arouse and so he put his hand on top of yours to stop. “Sorry.” you said. “I forgot.” You knew he hated that, you just thought it was because he hated it in general, not the real reason behind it.

There was a moment of silence and for the longest of time, he wanted to ask you this quiestion. “Did you believe it?”

You lied down next to him, staring at the ceiling. “Believe what?”

“That I did it.”

You knew it was going to be something among those lines but you were going to answer it truthfully. “I didn’t...at first. I couldn’t- it didn’t make any sense to me. From all the years I have known you, I just couldn’t put your personality and that action together.” you paused and looked at him. The two of you were so close, in his bed and that made you not only nervous but extremely, beaucoup nervous.

“And then?” he asked, watching every facial movement you made.

“I had to... somehow believe it.” you sat up from the guilt, even though he didn’t blame you for one bit. He believed he killed them too, if he was truly honest with himself... but he wasn’t. “Somebody had to take the blame and after years, I had to point at somebody because I was still so mad that they died. Especially when I saw Harry on the news- something inside of me just exploded. I was angry because there was logic fighting with me and the need to blame somebody for it. Peter was supposed to be dead, you know? And everything led to you. So either I was going to get crazy for not believing it or I should just accept it and have peace.” you turned back to him and he was smiling a bit. Shocked, you furrowed your eyebrows and asked: “What?”

“You’re just so funny when you care what I think.” he sat up as well, feelig the pain in his legs burn from all the lying around. Yet it was too cold for him and he had to close the windows. He had to.

“You laugh but I felt so guilty when Remus told me the truth. It was the shock all over again.” you walked behind him. “I don’t understand why didn’t you just tell us the truth?”

“Would that have made any difference?” he said as he turned around from the window only to find you standing close to him... too close. “James was dead. Lily was dead and like you said- all evidence pointed to me. If nothing I was guilty of attempted murder.” he started to walk out of the room, you following.

“It would have made all the difference in the world.” you started to raise your voice a bit and he noticed that, bringing up his hot-headed temper.

“I really don’t want to talk about that, right now, (y/n).” he gritted his teeth.

“Well, not talking about it won’t make it go away.”

“I know that.” he turned towards the kitchen.”

“It would have made a difference to Harry, to Remus- to me!” you started to shout as he burst into the kitchen and you right behind him.

He opened the cupboards quite aggressively and you could see he was a bit furious.

You wanted to be furious- you did. You wanted to explode and make a whole mess about it but you knew... that wouldn’t bring you any satisfaction. It would only make chaos.

You could see it in his eyes- those angry, feisty dark grey eyes that you shouldn’t make a storm out of rain, so you took a deep breath in and put your hand on top of his. “I’m sorry.” you said softly and you could feel his hand relax, the veins on top of his slim fingers disappear back into its depths and his eyes soften.

He closed one of the cupboards and leaned onto the counter.

“I just don’t like to get reminded of my mistakes, (y/n). That’s all.” he said, looking at you through those dark curls of his that fell in front of him. “Don’t you think I know what I did? And every day I was reminded in that cell... every day of those 12 years.” he let out a pitiful laugh, turning around to lean his backside on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest. “You lot kept me alive.” he continued to smile. “And you also made me fall in the darkest corners of my soul.” his smile now faded. “I was trapped in that stupid cell, filled with rage and revenge and you were out there living your best lives- living your twenties how we talked about we would.” he sighed, trying not to look at you but you made him do it by standing in front of him. He wanted to continue but you already wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. He let go of his arm hold and wrapped his arms around your torso, sighing and nuzzling close into your neck.

“Should we go for a walk?” you whispered into his shoulder and he gently pulled away, looking down into your eyes. “To breathe- to clear your head?” you smiled but he only moved away and moved his head sideways as a no.

“I don’t really want to.” he walked towards the fridge to get some milk. “Plus everybody would recognise me.”

“I know this path in the back- it’s really nice and brings a lot of solitude. It’s quite enchanted now that it’s all covered in a white coat.”

But that didn’t convince him.

“I don’t really want the cold.” he poured the milk into a cup and put the cup into microwave.

“Why don’t you just heat it on the stove? It’s faster.” you judged immediately.

“It’s faster in the microwave.”

“It’s faster on the stove.”

“But the milk gets all burnt on the bottom.”

“You pour a bit of water on the bottom.”

“Too much work.”

“You’re too much work.” you now bickered and he laughed. “Anyways, it’s snowing and you just put the jacket on- come on.”

“No jacket would be enough to keep me warm- even if I turned into a bear- I won’t.” he stood next to the microwave, crossing his arms again and you mimicking him.

“You’ve been stuck in here for too long. Don’t be a lazy sod and go for a walk.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Are you afraid of little snowflake?” you started to tease. “Will it wet your perfect curls? Newsflash, they’ll start to fall off soon anyway.”

“Oi! Don’t mess with receeding hairline- alright.” he started to comb his hair. “Our genes are strong.”

“Not all genes make it.”

“Oh, sod off.” he waved his hand in front of you and pulled the cup out. “You’re just jealous of it.”

“It’s overrated.” you mocked and he chuckled.

“Come on, I’m serious.” you leaned on the counter in front of him, pleading with your eyes. “It’s just a little snow. We used to love it.”

He kept his eyes on yours and he could feel his knees giving into it more than his soul did. No... that was a lie. His soul would succumb to you, especially when you acted like that.

Almost though.

“It’s not the snow that bothers me.” he mumbled and walked past you, into the living room.

Again, you followed him. “Then what is it?”

You couldn’t figure it out. Nothing really happened. James and Lily died on the end of October and nobody’s birthday was in January that you know of... so what is it.

“I just don’t like the cold.” he sat down and turned on the TV, sipping on his choco.

“It’s not even that cold. It’s barely 8 degrees. It’s not even on zero.” you rolled your eyes and sat down beside him.

“If you want to go, then go. I’m not.” he started to speak with a sharper tone.

You sat there, speechless. You really didn’t understand this man. You knew he wasn’t the same man as he was 12 years ago but there was something in Sirius that always screamed adventure. He wasn’t an introvert and he wasn’t the one that would hate to go outside. If you could find him anywhere in Hogwarts, it was definitely outside. So it made you sad to see him like this. See somebody so down... but you won’t force him to go out either. It doesn’t feel right.

“I just wanted to make you feel better.” you mumbled as you got up and left the living room.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t because of all the tears that were gathering in your eyes. It felt such a big rush of emotions climbing up from the bottomless you threw them all these years ago. It felt like grief... but not for James and Lily and the other friends you lost in that war. It was for Sirius because that day, you lost him too and you felt so much love inside of you that you had nowhere to give. Yes, he was imprisoned for 12 years and he must have suffered the loss but did that mean that your problems, your grief, your importance was less worthy than his because your problems were smaller than his. You went through a lot after Sirius was imprisoned. The hours of questioning, the terror in those nights that followed, insomnia, anxiety attacks, tears of loss- losing one person by one- counting down the days of when this is all going to be over. He may have been imprisoned, far away from all of that- he didn’t get to see others slip away slowly and he didn’t have family that fought in those.

You wiped the tears away from your eyes and washed your hands, opening the doors widely before seeing him appear in front with an apologetic look in his eyes.

You couldn’t, however. Not when your thoughts and emotions were raging inside of you. The bells of the past rang so loudly in your head that you pushed past him and walked into your room.

He followed.

You couldn’t say anything. There was something squeezing your heart so tightly right now that you only faced away from him, towards the white snow in front of you, a window glass seperating the two of you. Tears wanted so badly to climb up but you fought them with all your might. He won’t see you cry. He just won’t.

But he knew. He knew you were upset and he knew why. You could have stayed in your apartment, enjoying your normal life, going to work, watering plants if you had any, going out with your friends, working on your hobbies... and you’re throwing all that away to spend your days with him, closed up in this house and trying to give him any feeling of normal you can. Hell, he should be even thankful that you decided to speak to him. You were always the toughest in the friend group, yet somehow the most understanding one.

“It was cold there...” he started, sitting down on your bed and watching you face him your back. “And at first I didn’t mind it. I felt like I deserved it. I felt like I killed them all.” he said. “I didn’t know what was happening outside those walls and I preffered it that way. James was dead and he was the only thing I kept thinking about. I didn’t think about Lily or Harry or anybody really. James was always so much more than my best friend and I loved him- God, I loved him... even if he was so much better than me in every possible way, I couldn’t envy him because I loved him so much. He was everything I had. His parents were gone and then he was gone and without him... I just couldn’t function properly.” he looked up at you but you didn’t move, he could only see your reflection in the mirror, looking back at him. “And at first, the revenge, the fury inside of me was keeping me warm so the cold didn’t really matter but when that faded away, I could feel my toes freeze up. I walked up and down the cell, every day. Eight thousand steps every day... a few jumping jacks to get my blood pumping if I had any energy inside me left but it only lasted around 20 minutes. Then cold hit... again.” he said and suddenly, he could feel you sit beside him and the way your cherry blossom lotion made its way into his nostrils.

He didn’t dare to look at you. Not now when he was so vulnerable. The only thing he could do was look at your hand and wanting its warm touch to give him comfort as it always did... but it didn’t. It was just there... in his vision... so far away. Touch his arm, his thigh, his hair... anything- he wants it so badly when all his emotions are in chaos.

He looked away, gathering his thoughts. “I could deal with Dementors for a while as well but that didn’t last either. There were some days, months even, especially in the winter when the food was hard, tasteless and... well, cold... not much of it either. I started to lose my energy to do those walks or jumping jacks or to move a muscle. I laid there on that bed and tried to warm myself with all the clothes and blankets I could muster. I was weak and Dementors... it’s like they smell you and he came and I was sleeping when I felt it. I was so confused and-and-” he lost his train of thoughts as his eyes moved left and right on the ground as if he still couldn’t believe he let himself get caught like that.

Then there it was. That warmth, right between his lats, down his spine to his toes and up to his arms. It was like a relief and he could finally look at you, looking back at him with tear-filled eyes and a comforting smile- the one that he adored so much. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” you said and he smiled, tears dripping down as he grabbed your face between his palm and leaned his forehead on yours.

“Oh, no!” he smiled so brightly and looking at you. “I want to tell you what I did next.” he said and put your hands into his, kissing the top of it and making you smile. “When you want a Dementor to leave you alone, you had to think of your happy memories and if I tried to think of James, I could only think of the grief and the pain his death left on me. And I thought so hard to think of something happy and I thought of you.” he leaned his chin on top of your hands and watched you with a smile, eyes gilstening from all the tears that continued to fall. He was in too deep now. “Whenever you walked into the room it was always lighter, wasn’t it? Everybody loved you and the way you bickered with James- it was the most funniest thing in the world. He simply adored you though- everybody did because you were this light in everybody’s lives. People came to you like magnets and you sort of ran away from them sometimes.” he laughed and you laughed with him.

“It was a gift I didn’t really like.”

“But you accepted them anyway.” he continued. “And besides James, you were the only one that could make me say things out loud- whenever I had any girl problems or army- I could tell you the most random things I thought in the middle of the day because you were so easy to talk to- so accepting of everybody and everything but you still had your boundaries. You were the one people came to when they needed something because no matter what, you had it and you didn’t judge us for it. And I remembered that day we got wasted with Remus in our room and you would lay down on me like you do, look at me with your eyes and I would just fall in love all over again with you- every time. That day and the day you looked at me in your black skirt and white shirt underneath the blazer. And another day when you would just lay your head on my shoulder and I would tell you to sod off but when you did it, it was the best thing.” you laughed a bit because you knew it was true. You liked to flirt with all the boys in the friend group but it was always innocent, except with Sirius because he was the one that was always single and the two of you would always mess around. You knew the two of you liked each other but it never felt right at the time.

“You fancied me.” you gooed at him and he smiled.

“I still do.” he brought your hands closer to his chest. “Back then it really felt like a casual fancy but the dementor left and I could find myself on the ground smiling at the memory of you- then it hit me. I need to know what happened to you and there was nobody there to tell me what- so I stayed hopeful that please, not you. And it was a horrible thought to have but I prayed and I wished that if I ever get out of here, you would still be alive.”

“And I am.” you smiled.

“You are. It was one of the first things I checked before I ran for Harry.” he laughed, thinking back. “You were out with a friend and laughing so much with her- and she was quite funny.”

“You stalker.” you fooled around and he laughed.

“I was for a bit but I couldn’t face you back then... and I couldn’t face cold again because I spend 12 years in that tempeture, shivering and surviving- felt as if it was the second version of Hell nobody mentioned before... and every winter since I just... I can’t face it.”

You watched his head fall back down and you knew you had to understand him... but you also understood fear and fear was not real.

“You’re not there anymore.” you said. “You’re here and if you continue to think that this cold is the same cold as it was in Azkaban, then you are still stuck there.” you continued as he watched. “And I’m here... not Dementors or any other prisoner- me.” it was your turn to place your palms underneath hsi jaw and scrunch your nose. “And my torture is different. I can bring you out and shove your face into the snow just like I did every time.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, James shoved your face into the snow.”

“That’s debatable. It has been a long time, your memory must be foggy.”

“I think I can remember (y/n) the Snowman.”

“Turning mean now, aren’t we?”

He only laughed.

“And you know what... if you get cold I’ll be right there to bring you back into your warm home.”

He smiled, seeing so much of you in this entire moment that the two of you shared and it clicked, just like it clicked all these years before... “I think you are my warm home.”

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders era #maruaders imagine #marauders imagines #james potter #remus lupin

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naminethewriter · 3 months ago

Text

Thank You for Finding Me

Chapter Three: Talking It Out

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

@intrulogicalweek

Story Summary: Logan didn’t date or really had any friends but when this strange guy asks him out while complimenting his posterior, he can’t help but be intrigued.

Content Warnings: Rage room, Discussions of Unhappy Childhood

~~*~~

For around twenty minutes, Logan just let himself feel and destroy. Every time he felt dismissed by his parents bubbled up again and he first threw more plates before Remus put the metal bat in his hand again and pointed him to the tv.

It was a very old model that resembled the one his parents had during his childhood. He hadn’t been allowed to watch any program that his parents hadn’t approved of. They all watched the news together. It wasn’t the worst, but it did bring up a new flood of unpleasant memories. The isolation he felt at school when all his classmates talked about their favorite shows or games he wasn’t allowed to own.

The bat had shattered the screen on the first hit.

Eventually Remus handed him the sledgehammer. It had made it all the more satisfying.

Despite Logan’s new state fueled by the desire to destroy, he was always aware of where Remus was in the room and ensured he wasn’t caught up in his anger even slightly. Though Remus kept himself out of the way just fine, cheering Logan on as he himself kicked the chairs into splinters.

Logan let the sledgehammer fall to the ground when he was done. His arms ached and he was out of breath, but he hadn’t felt so light in a long, long time. He stumbled back to the door and leaned against it. He would have sat down if the ground wasn’t covered with glass and plastic shards and wooden splinters.

“You good?” Remus asked, breaking a chair leg over his thigh.

“Yes. I think my arms will be sore tomorrow, but I feel great. I think I am done for today, however.”

“Yeah, that tracks. You just experienced a lot at once. How about we grab a drink and talk about it? Letting anger out like this is great, but I feel like I just made you realize a lot of trauma and you can’t really process that without talking about it. Though I’m also okay if you have someone else in mind you’d rather do that with. Just wanted to offer.”

Logan was pretty sure that was the first time he saw Remus flustered. His cheeks were a bit red, and he scratched at his mustache.

“No, a drink with you sounds lovely. I would like to learn more about you, too.”

“Good! Great! Let’s go.”

Logan chuckled lightly, the expression on Remus’ face was precious in his opinion. It seemed like sincerity disarmed him rather quickly.

They returned to the dressing room and put all the equipment back where they took it from. On their way out, Amanda smiled.

“Had fun?”

“Fuck yeah! You should’ve seen him take apart that tv, it was so hot.”

Amanda rolled her eyes fondly and clicked a few things on her computer.

“There’s your total. Thank you for your patronage.”

Remus tapped his card against the reader and winked at her.

“See ya soon!”

“I don’t doubt it!” she called after them as Remus once again held open the door for Logan.

“How regularly do you come here?”

“Couple times a month, usually. Got a membership, so I get a nice discount.”

“And how are they supplied with the items?”

“Well, some are donations from customers, some are from deals they have with other stores like this one.” Remus pointed to the electronics store that Logan noticed on their way in. “They basically accept old electronics and take them apart to see what they can still use and give the rest downstairs. The tv you went ham on probably had some hardware taken out of it prior. And then there’s junkyards that are willing to give them things too.”

“Very interesting. On to another matter, however, what kind of drinks were you imagining? I am driving, so I cannot drink alcohol.” Logan usually came to work by bike, but he hadn’t known for how long Remus’ planned activities would last, so he figured taking the car was the safer option.

“That’s cool. I’m not really into spontaneous drinking either. I was more thinking coffee or sodas or something.”

“I would like a coffee,” Logan agreed. “And I would like to pay for it.”

“Sounds good.”

They walked in comfortable silence to a nearby coffee shop and both selected their drinks. Remus asked if they wanted to sit down but Logan found he now had a lot of nervous energy he wanted to walk off. So instead, they made their way to the nearby park.

“How would you like to talk about it?” Remus eventually asked. “Should I ask questions? Do you wanna talk and I just let you ramble?” He waved his hand around in an ‘et cetera’ motion and Logan smiled, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

“I would like to hear about your thoughts, actually. What were you thinking about when you hit that shelf for example?”

“Well, mostly work stuff. I’m a teacher and some of my colleagues are annoying. Nothing major but it’s been frustrating recently.”

“I am surprised. You don’t strike me as someone who’d want to be a teacher.”

Remus chuckled.

“You’re not the only one. But it’s been on my mind since my school days actually. It’s probably easy to imagine that I had my struggles. I was hella smart, but I had an ‘attitude problem’ according to most of my teachers. Made it hard to enjoy learning when they criticized me for every small thing. Felt like no one was on my side for the most part. So, I decided I wanted to become a teacher and be on the side of kids like me who didn’t fit in easily. And I think that’s working out rather well.”

“That’s wonderful, Remus.”

“Thank you! When I told my parents about it, I think I changed their view of me quite a bit.”

“How so?”

“Well, they always favored Roman over me. Not sure if they were all that aware of it but I sure felt it. They didn’t like the way I dressed all that much or that I started dyeing my hair. They didn’t interfere or anything, but they’d make comments. And they believed the teachers when they accused me of starting fights and talking back for no reason. When I enrolled in college for my teaching degree was the point where they realized that I was serious about the whole thing, I think. They’ve been a lot kinder to me since.”

“What about your brother?” Logan asked. He was very curious how similar the brothers were to each other.

“We didn’t share a lot of classes in high school, so he couldn’t really say one way or the other. He was there for me when it mattered but he also had a lot of friends and after-school activities, so he was out a lot. We went to the same college though. It was a lot of fun. He lives a few hours away now and I kinda miss him. Not that I would ever tell him that.”

“I see…”

“You good?” Remus asked quietly. They passed an empty bench and Remus gestured at it as if to ask if they wanted to sit down. Logan nodded and let himself sink onto the wood. The sun danced through the leaves of a nearby tree, and he took a deep breath.

“Yes. I was just wondering what it would have been like if I had a sibling. My parents told me when I asked if I would get one, that they only needed me to inherit their assets. Another child would just complicate things.”

“That sounds harsh.” Remus had sprawled out on the bench, his arms slung over the backrest and his back melted against the wood. In contrast, Logan maintained his upright posture, just how his mother had taught him.

“Maybe. I already knew that I was born for a purpose, so I wasn’t all that surprised. When my grandfather heard about it though, he was furious.”

“He sounds like he was a cool guy.”

“He was more open than my parents, but he still wasn’t that different. He had raised my father after all. Until he retired, I rarely met him. It was afterwards when he had time that he started to care. He agreed with my parents that knowledge was the most important thing and made sure that I had the best education I could have but he also said that all that knowledge was worthless if it wasn’t used to lead the life I wanted to live. That’s why he got my parents to let him take care of me. He wanted me to make my own choices, that’s all. If I wanted to read a novel instead of a philosophy book, then that was fine by him. But emotional expression wasn’t something he excelled at either. None of them had much appreciation for the arts either.”

“Ouch. Artistic expression was a big thing in my family. Ro does theater and writing. I do more drawing and sculpting. Mom’s a dancer and dad can play so many instruments, it’s crazy. But yeah, no wonder you had so much repressed anger. That sounds like one bleak childhood.”

“It wasn’t all bad. Like I said, I enjoyed playing the piano. And sometimes my mother would do a jigsaw puzzle with me. It wasn’t much but she’d smile at me when we’d finish one. Father and I read together. They got me a DS and the Professor Layton games when I explained to them that it included a lot of puzzles. They praised and rewarded me when I got good grades. Grandfather even got my father to agree to foregoing his inheritance so that I could have it all. I can be a librarian and not worry about expenses. I know they cared for me in some ways.”

Silence hung between them for a moment and Logan watched the steam rise from his coffee cup. He took a sip, and it tasted just right.

“I’m glad you can do what you want now. But you went through a lot to get here and I’m proud of you for making it. You’ve worked hard.”

The sincerity in Remus’ words brought tears to Logan’s eyes.

“Thank you. I’m proud of you, too. You looked at your hardships and decided to make sure the same thing wouldn’t happen to other children. That’s wonderful.”

“Thanks, Lolo. That means a lot.”

They smiled at each other and the world seemed just a little bit brighter.

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brandstifter-sys · 4 months ago

Text

The Great Bitchin Bake-Off

Chapter 1: It's a Piece of Cake (Ao3)

Word Count: 3311

Rating: T

Characters: Roman, Remus

Warnings: Brotherly shenanigans, innuendo, blood, Remus has OCD

Roman and Remus have no internet, no cookbooks, and they have to make breakfast for everyone in the mindscape. Rather than work together, the creativitwins just have to make it a competition, if only so there's something edible in the end

---

This was the worst possible thing that could happen! Thomas was camping and away from the internet, and Roman and Remus were tasked with making cinnamon rolls for breakfast, as well as eggs and sausage, but those things were easy to prepare.

“Where is it?!” Roman groaned as he scoured the cabinets. Patton had to have a cookbook somewhere around there! Remus was sitting on the stovetop, watching his brother tear the kitchen apart.

“You know where it isn't!” he chirped, being as unhelpful as possible.

Roman's shoulders tensed and he said, “Then go check his room, or Janus' room! We don't have all night!”

“It's already 3 in the morning, we clearly did have all night!” Remus jeered and jumped off the stove.

“Will you just—”

“Check their rooms for a third time? Ask Harlot's Web if he has it again? Scour the entire Imagination?” Remus asked dramatically, gesticulating like the prince, before he smacked his hands on the stove and laughed, “Of course not!”

“Then what do you propose we do?” Roman hissed and spun on his heels to face the grinning duke. He absolutely loathed that sharp, twisted smile and the chaos it invited.

“Wing it! What good is being Creativity if we can't get creative!”

Roman sputtered and gawked at him as he skipped to the cabinets. Remus was all too happy gathering an assortment of dry ingredients that would coat his arguably plain clothes in white. There was no way this walking disaster could simply “wing it” with anything food related—the man ate cockroaches!

“Working with you with a recipe is already more struggle than it's worth—I refuse to let you poison the others because you just had to be Eris incarnate!”

Remus pouted at him and let his head drop over his shoulder. The unamused glare would have been disorienting for anyone other than Roman, but he was used to it.

“At least I would poison them on purpose,” he scoffed, “You would manage it whether you want to or not, if you manage to make something worth eating.”

Those were fighting words. Roman could see the impish smile fighting to unfurl below that infuriating mustache. There was no way he could let Remus get away with affronting his pride in such a crude manner!

“In that case, leave and I will prove that I am capable!” the prince huffed and crossed his arms. A mistake on his part.

“Prove this!”

Slap

Roman yelped as a small square packet hit him in the face. That bastard was trying his limited patience. And what was worse, he was all too familiar with the size and shape of the packet. Knowing Remus…

"Was that a condom!?" Roman shrieked and whacked the packet away from his face. Remus howled with laughter. Of course he would be so crass!

"That's dry yeast!! Way to prove you can't get laid Mr. Romance!" Remus wheezed, and set his ingredients on the counter.

Roman fumed and stole forward, forcefully usurping the dry ingredients. He brought them to a different counter, the one with the stand mixer and seethed.

“H—Hey! Wait a sec! You really want to poison your friends?” Remus gasped.

“If I did, I’d leave the baking to you. And that is what I refuse to do.”

“Now, I can take a hit, but you can't bake for shit. So gimme that flour back—Thank you!” Remus jeered and snatched the bag of flour while Roman was distracted by the limerick. He was such a prissy poet, he would have to analyze every syllable before moving on.

Remus set the flour on the counter and pulled a large bowl and a measuring cup from the cabinets. He was able to pour a different packet of yeast into the bowl before Roman finished analyzing the poem.

It was only when he skipped to the sink and turned on the water that Roman snapped out of it.

“How dare you distract me with poetry!” he snapped and balled his fists at his sides.

“Easily!” the duke jeered and stuck his hand under the tap. It had to be warm if he wanted things to work. And he would wash his hands, mainly because it would show Roman he was serious and set on baking. He was not about to leave everyone without a decent breakfast!

Roman was sputtering more nonsense. Remus knew he was not going to convince the prissy princey to let him handle this, and if Roman didn't want to work with him, there was another way.

“If you're so desperate to prove me right, the oven is big enough for two batches,” Remus taunted and conjured a bar of soap—one he wasn't allergic to.

Roman seethed. He would prove that pest wrong! He would create the most perfect cinnamon rolls ever! And he would have Remus' disgusting batch to amplify his greatness.

By the time he snapped out of his personal moment, Roman realized that Remus was no longer paying him any mind. The microwave was running and the idiot was bent over at the waist, staring at his bowl that he covered with a towel.

“Wakey wakey my little babies!” Remus cooed, “It's time for you to get bakey-ed!”

“What on earth—?”

“I have to activate my yeast—I threw the instant at you, so you don't have to worry your pissy little head off! You know getting anxious brings out the spider!” Remus jeered and wiggled his butt for emphasis.

Roman could pretend he was not grateful. He knew the sheer horror of waking Virgil suddenly, and he was not about to be the cause of such a threat.

“If that's how you feel, you won't mind ceding the stand mixer,” he said and picked up his yeast packet from the floor.

“Yeah, you need a fighting chance!” Remus laughed as the microwave dinged. He bounced on his heels, dancing to a song in his head, set off by the beeping. Roman did not want to know what that song was.

Roman willed his hands clean and emptied his yeast into the bowl on the stand mixer. Since he really had no idea what he was doing, he took the measuring cup by the sink and filled it partially with warm water.

“It’s a piece of cake to bake a pretty cake,” Remus sang to himself, catching Roman off guard, “If the way is hazy!”

Roman rolled his eyes and added the water to his bowl. Surely he could start adding his other wet ingredients while Remus reminisced over a children's show. Was there milk in cinnamon roll dough? There was about to be! And of course eggs. The last time he tried baking without them was a disaster!

He rushed to the fridge and pulled out the milk and eggs, careful not to drop them. A prince was not born to clean. And he was such a fortunate prince, setting down both ingredients before anything could startle him.

“Then you'll have a—Break it down bitch! Lemme see you back it up!” Remus switched from singing to quiet shouting.

Roman watched, completely flabbergasted as his idiot brother twerked and lowered himself toward the floor, still shouting:

“Drop that ass down low and pick that motherfucker up!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Roman scoffed.

“Obviously I'm waiting for my yeasty babies to wake up!” Remus laughed and straightened his legs, “And singing a classic song to time it!”

“A classic?”

“Don't tell me you never heard ‘Cooking by the Book (A Lil Bigger Mix)’ before!” Remus laughed, only to realize that Roman had certainly not. This uncultured swine!

“I don’t need to be familiar with a meme like that,” Roman scoffed and stole the sugar from Remus' counter.

“Boo you whore!” Remus jeered, “Or should I say ‘priss’ instead? A whore would know the difference between a yeast packet and a condom!”

Roman’s face decided to match his sash as he set the sugar down and turned on the mixer. He kept grumbling to himself as he added two eggs, some milk, and some sugar, accidentally spilling some milk on the floor—a humble mistake that wouldn't ruin his creation. Remus decided not to comment on his lack of measurements. Roman wanted to do this without his help, so Remus wouldn’t offer. And he wouldn’t sabotage his brother either, not that he needed to.

What Remus would do was make some tasty cinnamon rolls! He peeked under the towel and saw a lovely little foam on the top of the mixture, which meant he could get to work!

Without much thought, he stole the sugar and pulled out a measuring cup. He was not about to let his OCD act up if he could help it. He always liked to bake when his thoughts were too loud, since it was soothing and ritualistic. Roman had no idea how much experience Remus had, but he was about to get a glimpse.

Once he was satisfied with the amount of sugar in his cup, Remus pulled out a rubber spatula. He was careful, slowly pouring in the sweet crystals and mixing them in the yeast goo. Roman caught sight of him and a pang of dread filled him.

Roman was supposed to be the good Creativity. Something as sweet and adored as cinnamon rolls should have fallen under his domain! How dare Remus look like he knew what he was doing!

Sabotage was so petty and underhanded, something Janus would do, so naturally Roman was repulsed by the idea. And sorely tempted. But he was better than that! He would just move things around, where they belong. If Remus forgot about them with that scatterbrain of his, it was his own fault.

The duke was busy getting his stuff from the microwave when Roman gathered the eggs and milk. He paused when he saw the contents of the Pyrex measuring cup in Remus' hand.

“Is that milk?”

“Yup!” Remus laughed as he began adding it to his bowl, stirring it in with grace.

“Cow's milk?” Roman pressed suspiciously

“Yeah.”

“Why is it yellow, and with that clearish layer on top?”

“Butter,” Remus shrugged, too focused on his task. Roman’s face blanched. How could he forget about butter!?

With the milk and eggs in hand he moved to get to the fridge to get butter.

At least that was his plan.

Eek!

His foot slipped out from under him, thanks to his spill, and he fell on his back. All of the eggs escaped the carton and splattered on and around him, coating him in goop and shells. The milk, fortunately, was closed and did not spill.

Remus glanced over his shoulder and sighed, “Did you do that on purpose?”

“What? Why would I fall and willingly ruin my jacket with raw eggs? I'm not some saboteur with a pain kink, like you!” Roman snapped and got up. He could at least put away the milk and get some butter with some dignity.

“I haven't done anything to ruin your rolls, Pissbaby,” Remus scoffed, “You did it all yourself. And now I don't have chicken eggs! They're the most essential part of any baked good! And oviposition! And cockatrice eggs are terrible for baking!”

“Figure your own shit out,” Roman huffed and put the milk away. He went to the sink and tried to wash off his face and as much of his hair as he could.

Remus tapped his chin with his knuckle. He needed the binding power of eggs, but without eggs. He made dog biscuits for his puppies, Winnie, Sarah, and Mary, and all his other critters, without eggs. He always used blood for his babies, maybe he could get away with it this time. There was only one way to find out!

Remus summoned an ornate glass jug filled with a deep red liquid. He held it up and swirled it, eyeing it closely. Yeah, he could work with this.

Roman could not. He dried his face with a paper towel and gawked at the jug. There was no way he was seeing what he thought he saw. Remus was deranged and feral, but he wouldn't actually put something so vile in his cinnamon rolls when he was trying to prove he could make something edible, if not better than Roman’s.

“What is that?”

“Huh?” Remus paused and looked at Roman curiously, “This is pig blood—It’s already been boiled to hell and back, so it's safe to eat—I wouldn't feed my sweet little babies anything dangerous, so it won't be dangerous for anyone else!”

“It's—It’s actually blood,” Roman gawked, only capable of focusing on that detail.

“Yup!” Remus laughed as he measured out the amount he needed. He was not going to waste any of his preciously purified resource on cowards like his brother!

Roman, for all of his disgust, suddenly felt much more confident about his own dough. He pulled his shoulders back with pride and pulled a stick of butter from the fridge. This was child’s play!

Remus paid him no mind as he microwaved his butter. The duke was in the zone. With all of his wet ingredients mixed, he was ready to add a pinch of salt and a fuck ton of flour. So he set that bowl aside and pulled out another one, just to make his life a little easier.

He busted out a dry measuring cup and carefully scooped out some flour. He made sure it was packed carefully and leveled before dumping it into the clean bowl. He repeated the process a couple times until he was satisfied.

Roman pulled his melted butter from the microwave and tried not to laugh. Remus' dish was ruined already, yet he was still trying, foolishly whisking his flour. How admirable, yet so futile!

Roman poured his butter into the mixing bowl and let it incorporate. While that happened, he stole the flour from Remus and tried to be a good sport.

Remus knew Roman was fighting off laughter with his petty snickers. He could laugh all he wanted. Whisking his flour was less tedious than sifting it in some doohickey! And it was easier to mix sifted flour by hand!

Not that Roman was going to sift his flour at all. Remus watched with bated breath as Roman poured it in, straight from the bag. Without turning off the mixer. The disaster looming over the prince was too good to miss!

The cloud of white particulates exploded in Roman’s face and flour spilled out around the bowl. Roman stumbled back and miraculously set the bag of flour on the counter without much more mess.

Of course, while Roman had some restraint when it came to laughter, Remus did not. He keeled over, cackling at Roman as he tried to dust off his face. The poor prince still had some water on his skin from washing off the egg, and the flour soaked it up into a gummy mess.

“If you want Elizabethan makeup, use lead like a good cosplayer!” Remus wheezed, “Or are you trying to be a clown? You don’t need makeup for that!”

“If I wanted to look like a clown I would grow a mustache!” Roman snapped and rubbed the flour off his eyes.

“You’d look hot for once if you did!” Remus wheezed and dipped his finger in his wet ingredients.

Roman was far too irate to notice that slight movement. And he only got more irate when Remus bopped him on the nose and beamed.

“Now you really look like a clown!”

Roman's eye twitched when he realized what Remus had done.

“You revolting cretin!” he snapped and shoved Remus away from him. Remus laughed and got back to work. He could have his fun later. He had a task to complete!

“You're the one who got covered in salmonella!” he jeered and slowly added a third of his flour to his wet ingredients.

“You put blood on my face!”

“Purified blood, milk, butter, water, and yeast!” Remus corrected and mixed his dough, “Safer than anything in your bowl!”

Roman grumbled under his breath and checked his dough. The flour was mixed in but he would need more. He poured more in, much more carefully, lest he waste more.

By the time he was satisfied with his dough, Remus was done mixing his monstrosity and setting up the counter to knead it. Roman would probably have to knead his dough as well.

But first he would have to come to terms with the fact that Remus' dough looked like someone's insides as he scooped it from the bowl. Roman watched in abject horror as Remus slapped his reddened dough on the floured counter. He began to knead it roughly, slapping it with glee. The worst part was his grunting.

"You close? You close?" he gasped with a twisted grin, as if he would get a response.

"Yeah, you're a bad bad boy," he said and slapped his dough a couple times, "You close?"

Roman wished he could be anywhere else, doing anything else. He was really set on proving this perverted lunatic wrong, enough to endure this idiotic display.

“You know you need to knead that, right?” Remus asked when he realized Roman was just gawking at him.

“Are you finished practicing for your next pornographic film?” Roman huffed and crossed his arms. He hated how filthy his jacket was.

Remus laughed and shook his head. It was better for his thoughts if he didn’t get suggestive with only Roman there. He got back to kneading his dough, digging the heel of his palms into it.

“Where's the money, Lebowski?!” he shouted as he continued to work. Roman could live with that.

There was plenty of flour left on the counter from his mistake, so he simply plopped his dough on the counter and got to work. He was not pleased with how sticky his dough was, clinging to his fingers. Remus' wasn't sticking to his!

What was worse, Remus finished kneading his dough before Roman could get it into a single mass. Roman growled to himself and got to work, ignoring the world around him. That was the perfect chance for Remus to strike.

The duke conjured a pair of rubber gloves that completely covered his arms, and he stole Roman's bowl and mixing paddle. Granted they joined the two bowls he used, and the measuring cups, and the tiny bowl Roman used for his butter, so it wasn't sabotage. He just needed to wash the dishes.

Remus was either very quick or Roman was struggling a lot, because he got all of the dishes done and even got the two bowls he had used greased for the next step.

“Well, Pissy,” Remus said and set one of the bowls by Roman, “It's time to cover these and let them rise for like an hour or so!”

“Why are you helping me?”

“Because I feel like it,” he shrugged, “And you really need any excuse to shower and change faster!”

Roman really couldn't deny that. He was a hot mess, and princes were supposed to slay. So he chucked his dough into the bowl before sinking out without his usual flourish.

Remus took pity on him and covered his bowl with a warm, damp towel. Roman would absolutely need help whether he wanted it or not. He was so fortunate that he had a brother who didn't want to win because of his own stubborn stupidity.

Once he was done covering his own dough he pulled out three sticks of butter to soften for the filling. Then Remus left the kitchen to get his hand mixer, since he would need it if Roman refused to share the stand mixer. He knew his brother all too well. But he would show that prince what happens when pride clouds the mind.

(2)(3)

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #food mention tw #sex mention tw #blood mention tw #ocd mention #might as well post it here too i guess #sandyscribed

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 1 year ago

Text

Starved

*materializes into existence*

Hey :D

[beware, this is long]

Idk if you're doing prompts rn (if not, that's okay; remember to take care of yourself). But if you are, may I request some Creativitwins h/c? – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat [i'm not putting the whole req here just cause she LONG]

Read on Ao3

Warnings: starvation, intrusive thoughts, panic attacks, body horror (sort of), nightmares

Pairings: none

Word Count: 4250

For Remus, tending to the nightmare realm is just another chore. Eldritch monstrosities, terrifying landscapes, that's just how it is.

But when a new destination appears one night as he's going about his rounds, well, he has to stop in to investigate. What he finds is a horrifying town that has an almost cult-like relationship with hunger. One of the Sides, clearly, suffers from a particularly terrible strain of intrusive thoughts, but who?

"I mean, it just makes sense, really."

Roman snarls, throwing himself against the invisible barrier, but it shimmers mockingly as he's forced to claw and screech in vain, soundless behind its impassable force. On the other side, close enough that he could reach out and touch him—so close, so fucking close—Remus smiles.

"Of course," Logan says softly, reaching out to cup Remus's face as though he's precious, "the Creativity unbound by the shackles of expectation, what else could we hope for?"

"And the passion!" Patton claps his hands, each one making the barrier thunder against Roman's palms. "Where else are we going to find someone with this much drive and motivation?"

"I know, maybe we'll actually see finished products once in a while," Virgil snickers, playfully elbowing Remus in the ribs as a dagger lodges itself in Roman's side.

He howls in pain, still scrabbling at the wall, but it's no use; Remus isn't even looking at him anymore, no one is, they're all too focused on each other, on how perfect Remus fits in now that they're stopping to look at it, and that's what he wants, that's good, he missed his brother so much, he wants him back, he wants him back, he just wants—he wants—

But he's a fool, and he didn't specify that he's selfish enough to want to keep both things.

And now, as he watches Remus pulled into Patton's arms, as he watches Logan smile gently and ruffle his hair, as he watches Virgil grin and rub his hands together gleefully, as he watches Janus turn to look at him—

Janus stares at him through the barrier, a smirk playing on his lips. But it's not a cruel smirk, not a malicious smile, it's the crooked smile every hero has just as they deliver the last quip of the movie.

"Oh, Roman," he whispers, even as his words ring in Roman's ears, "thank god you don't have a mustache."

Roman wakes up.

He's shaking. He's burning under the sheet. He's panting like he's run for his life. He's frozen. He can't move. Why should he move? The barrier will stop him. Wait, no, that's when he's asleep. He's not asleep anymore. He's not, is he? He's so cold. He's so hot. He's so scared.

God, he's so scared.

But why is he so scared? Is it the fact that Remus was accepted? How awful is he, to be scared of that? To be scared that if they find out how wonderful Remus truly is—and he is, Remus is so, so, so wonderful, he is and Roman loves him—that they'll want to keep Remus and get rid of him? That's awful of him! He's not supposed to be scared of his brother being accepted, he's supposed to look forward to it! He's not—he's not—

He's crying, isn't he? That's why he's still shaking. He's scared. He's scared and he's awful and he's crying, why is he crying? What right does he have to cry? Crying is for people who are hurting and deserve comfort. What comfort does he deserve? Because his Imagination conjured up some horrifying reality for him, so horrifying that he got to watch his brother finally get the love and acceptance he deserves and the natural consequences of it? What right does he have to demand comfort after that? He doesn't. He should stop crying. He should stop. Right now.

Oh, god, he can't stop crying.

He's still hurting. His chest is still burning. Why can't he breathe properly? This is stupid; if he's going to be as selfish and needy as he is, he should at least be breathing properly. He can't pretend to be anything other than helpless, can he, that he would steal the air from others' lungs and then not have the decency to breathe it properly? How cruel of him. How unjust of him. How awful he must be.

He should be locked behind a barrier. He should be pushed far away from everyone else. Then he couldn't hurt them. Then his hurt would only hurt him. Then he could be as messy and needy and selfish as he had to be and he would only cause himself pain. That was right. That was better. He should—he should have—should he have realized this years ago? How awful he is, how much he deserves to be put behind a barrier?

The room is closing in. The walls are getting closer. His bed is shrinking. The blankets are pressing him down into the floor, he can't breathe, he can't breathe, he can't breathe—

He can't hear anything. Oh, god, has it happened already? No, no, he wasn't ready—he was just thinking about it, that didn't mean he wanted to go right now—no, he wants one last chance to say goodbye, he's sorry, he's sorry, he's so sorry—

It's so cold.

***

Remus whistles under his breath as he steers the little rudder on the wooden dinghy, around the desecrated shell of some great eldritch beast. He gives the scale an absentminded pat as he drifts by, resolving to come back and check on it later. Perusing his nightmare gallery never did get old, but as far as dreams went, there were certainly better ones to be had. After all, hardly anyone wants to go to work as soon as they fall asleep.

"Win some, lose some," he remarks to the bear cub sitting in the bottom of the boat next to him. The bear cub growls low in its throat and gnaws on a spare bone. "Atta boy."

As he turns to go back towards the mainland, he catches sight of something rising up out of the water to his left. Looking over, he blinks in surprise to see a skeletal forest framing a new mouth of the river, long and jagged shadows reaching out over the water's surface. Frowning, he steers the boat over there, watching as the trees coalesce to form the silhouette of a starving bear. His bear cub lets out a low snuffling noise and shifts closer to his leg. He rubs its head and frowns as they drift under the bear's snarling mouth.

"Do you know what this is?" The bear cub huffs. "Huh. Me neither."

Surprisingly enough, the river ends at a seemingly normal dock. Well, normal for everyone else, in here, that's a little strange. Crowds mill about, each talking gruffly to their immediate neighbor, and someone throws Remus a small rope to tie off his dinghy. He does, the bear cub lingering close to his heels as he starts to walk into the town. Thankfully, he's not in his costume, but a set of plainclothes that he quickly shuffles around to hide the eldritch goo.

The air swirls with a strange miasma, not quite visible enough to put his finger on, but—there's something here. A feeling, almost, a terrible energy that permeates everything he can see. Most wear some sort of face covering, a scarf pulled up over their mouths, or hats worn so low he can only see glimpses of their chin. Those that don't are haggard, bone-weary, with eyes sunken and pulsating deep within their sockets. He can see what should be market stalls hanging their striped banners, but nothing looks to be on sale.

"Good thinking," he hears a raspy voice to his side, and he turns to see a crew of urchins smirking and huffing at him, "having a cub for you, or you for the cub."

His cub—he looks down to see where the cub should've been only to see it's wandered off, sniffing at something, and now whining and growling as a group of long-fingered strangers inch towards it, their mouths open. He whistles sharply and the cub turns tail and runs back to him, gnawing gently on his pants leg.

"Stay close," he bids under his breath as they keep walking, "I don't know what's going on here."

He keeps walking. The bustling streets fade quickly into tiny alleyways, each blocked off by a different makeshift wall that looks like it's designed to be lifted back and forth, a strange gate of sorts. Big, bulky things, the kind that would take at least two strong people to lift. He glances around at the twig-thin limbs and skeletal muscles he can see of the few people that aren't wearing big coats and proper clothes. As he nears one, he frowns. It's made of what looks to be old hide, bound and lashed together with something, but what could possibly be—

A low moaning and the murmur of a crowd.

He turns again, his cub at his side, looking for the source of the commotion. Down the main street a ways, at the mouth of presumably another alley, he sees a group of people peering at something. With one hand tangled in the fur at the cub's neck, he walks over and shoulders his way in to see what's so fascinating.

His eyes widen.

An old man, an old man, who looks barely alive save for the hysterical zeal in his eyes, is hobbling after something rolling along the ground. Every time he's about to pick it up, one of the men in some sort of uniform comes up and kicks it further away from him. The thing rolls through all manner of filth and still the old man hobbles after it. A sick sort of fascination takes hold of Remus's stomach—he should put a stop to this, shouldn't he?—but he finds himself paralyzed, only able to hold his bear cub close.

As the man continues to hobble, he lets go of his cloak. His ribs stand out starkly, each vertebra of his spine clearly visible, and someone in the crowd quickly snatches it up, hoarding it to their chest as a few squabble for it until the uniformed man barks at them to settle down. The man hobbles on, undeterred.

Another shadow lengthens on the ground.

Remus is one of the few that turn to look.

Another man, tall and whip-thin, with an ashen-gray face and monstrous dignity, walks slowly after the pair. His coat, fasted together with large gold buttons down the length of him, flutters in the breeze as though he would blow away at any moment. His hands, the same ashen color as his face, clasp in front of him. A gold signet ring gleams from his finger.

Who, Remus thinks as he clutches the bear cub, who has the sense to be utterly silent, the fuck do you think you are?

"Do you see," the man whispers, his voice picking through the crowd as a centipede picks through the undergrowth on the forest floor, "how desperate we become if we are slaves to our hunger?"

The man in uniform kicks the thing through a puddle that Remus is going to believe is water. The older man still hobbles after it.

"How low our standards become, how quickly we become nothing but beasts, savage and primitive? And how unhappy we are…" The gold signet ring catches another flash of light. "And we are never sated once we give into the need to feed."

The old man finally catches the thing. It drips and cracks with who knows what and still he shoves it in his mouth as though it were the finest feast in all the land. As the crumbs and sludge drip down his face, Remus realizes that it once might have passed for bread.

"And look," says the man as the old figure lets out a howl of despair, "it is never worth the price it takes to feed it."

For even that short hobble seems to have sapped the last of the life force from the old man's wheezing lungs and he keels over right there, still moaning and twitching as the bread rolls limply away from his hands. The uniformed man stands over the corpse and raises a whistle to his lips.

"We are the masters of our own hunger," drones that fucking whisper as many-limbed shadows materialize from the other end of the alley, "until it becomes master of us."

The crowd turns away in shocked horror as the spider-shadow-demon beasts fall upon the corpse. Remus watches the man impassively observing it, idly toying with that fucking golden ring. Then, as if Remus were invisible, he turns and walks back into the crowd, the beasts scuttling after him.

"So," Remus murmurs to the bear cub who was thankfully too short to see any of that, "that was fucking weird."

This isn't one of his. Obviously, because then he would've known what the fuck to expect. As it stands, he can only drift to a somewhat abandoned corner and stare around, trying to discern who this might belong to.

Hunger, that was clearly a theme here. Starvation, almost, given how little food there seems to be and how everyone keeps looking at his bear cub. But a culturally enforced starvation, given by the weird cult vibes of the creepy dude with the ring—a religious figure, maybe? And some nonsense about being masters of hunger, so clearly there was prestige given to being hungry but not giving into it. Those who outwardly expressed their hunger being shamed—well, shamed and humiliated and executed for it.

The bear cub whimpers and Remus crouches down, letting it snuffle into his neck as he strokes its shoulder. A cart drives by with a fancy-looking crest on one side and he squints to make out 'By the Grace of N. Schaumburg' as it passes.

"That must be creepy dude," he murmurs as the bear cub growls, "yeah? What do we think, who's hungry?"

He looks around again. Despite the fact that it's pretty mild weather, everyone's bundled up as though it were the dead of winter. Those that don't wear thick heavy coats huddle together, shivering, mindless mumbling coming from the groups. If he listens closely enough, he can just make out the words, but they don't make any sense.

The bear cub whuffs and tugs on his sleeve.

"What?"

The cub sniffs at a piece of paper blown closer to them. Remus picks it up. It's a pamphlet of some sort with the same crest, announcing an earlier enforced curfew. On the back is a short verse.

Selfishly feed and forever go hungry.

Free and unshackled by hunger are we.

Feeding the beast is an endless task.

Embrace the hunger and be free at last.

"Free from what," Remus whispers to the cub as he finishes reading, "having a body with needs?"

The cub just whines. Remus rubs its head and pockets the pamphlet, standing up slowly and looking around. Okay, so definitely shame associated with needing to feed, something about trying and failing to sate the hunger only leading to it growing, okay…definitely more guilt flying around here than he'd like but they were raised Catholic, so that's not completely unbelievable…

"You there." The uniformed man from before jerks his head at the cub. "What's with the animal?"

"'S my emotional support bear."

The man frowns. "Your what?"

"Nasty business," Remus says instead, nodding toward where the corpse used to be, "does that happen often in this part of town?"

"Not as often as it used to, population's getting better. Since Schaumburg came out with the pills instead of the rations it's been easier to keep the worst of them down." The man glances behind him. "Still. There'll always be a few of them."

"Is that why the new curfew's been enacted?"

"Well, it always gets worse at night, you know. That's when all the rational thought leaves these people and they start scrabbling about for something to feed on. Makes it easier to manage if they're all already indoors, you see."

Okay, so something about not being around others at night, okay, who do we know that's been skipping out of things lately?

"And I've never seen him around either," Remus says, lowering his voice a bit as he nods toward the direction that creepy dude went off in, "is that normal around here too?"

"Oh, Schaumburg doesn't normally come out—" bingo— "but with all the panic about that cold front last night, well…I guess he thought it was necessary."

Cold front last night, cold front last night…what happened last night?

It was movie night last night. Did someone get freaked out by the movie? But it was The Sea Beast, it had cleared everyone's trigger list, everyone had enjoyed it, was that the problem? Or was it something else?

"Now, you seem like a nice enough man—" Remus tries not to take offense, this seems like a good thing in this case— "so I'll just let you off with a word to the wise: get that bear of yours registered with an approved tag or someone's liable to tear it apart, you hear?"

Remus just nods as the official turns away. He looks down at his cub, who's all but cuddling his leg, and glances around.

Several people hug their cloaks or bags close to their chests. A few more stand so close their arms are near around each other as the carts and wagons drive by. A parent tucks their child into a fold of their coat. He remembers the feeling of being snuggled on the couch and how cold it had been when he got up to get a drink. He pulls out the pamphlet and looks closely at the crest, fingers tracing an upside-down crown with teeth mangling the metal.

As if on cue, he hears Roman scream.

***

Virgil huffs, turning over in bed. Remus must be busy tonight; his mouth's been filled with bitter-tasting grossness all evening. Every now and again he gets this awful roaring emptiness in his stomach and he just wants to sleep. He's almost ready to storm down there and tell him to knock whatever he's doing off, it can wait until tomorrow, when he suddenly hears someone scream.

That's…not what Remus's screams sound like.

***

Remus shakes himself awake, grabs his trusty teddy bear, and sinks right into Roman's room. Immediately he's prying Roman's hands away from his face, letting out these soothing little noises and trying to get his attention.

"Hey, hey, Roro, shh, shh, it's okay, c'mere." Roman gasps and shakes and Remus leans in to kiss his forehead. "Hey, hey, c'mon, Ro-Bro, it's just me. It's just me, hey, can you look at me?"

"Re?"

"Yeah, Roro, it's just me, it's just me. Hey, you're doing so good, can you listen to my voice? Just listen to me, I'm right here, we're in your room, we're safe, you're safe, we're all okay." He nudges the teddy bear into Roman's lap and nuzzles it under Roman's chin. "See? All good."

Roman's hands are shaking and in the distance, Remus hears the echo of Schaumburg's voice. He growls and reaches out, taking Roman's hands and looping them around his neck, pulling his brother into a cuddle.

"Hey, Roro, you stay right here with me. Can you do that? Can you hold onto me?"

"It's so cold, Re—it's so—so cold—"

"Shh, it's okay, you can be warm now. I'm warm, right?"

"You're so warm—how are you so warm—"

"Come steal all my warmth, okay? Come steal all of it, it's all for you, I'm gonna give it to you." Remus tucks Roman's head under his chin and rocks him slightly back and forth. "There, there you go, shh, shh, it's okay, Roro."

"I'm sorry," Roman gasps out and Remus's chest aches, "I'm sorry, I'm awful, I'm so sorry!"

"You're not awful, Roro. Nope, no disagreeing," he says softly as Roman opens his mouth to protest, "you're not awful. You had a really fucked up nightmare and your intrusive thoughts are way too loud but you're not awful."

Roman freezes. "You—you saw it?"

"I didn't see your nightmare, no, but I—your intrusive thoughts made a place in my nightmare realm and I saw that."

"I'm so sorry—"

"Hey," Remus murmurs, pulling him back enough to cup his face and make him look at his eyes, "don't apologize for the shit your brain does, okay? You're safe here with me. I'm gonna be right here, okay? I got you."

To his dismay, Roman's lower lip trembles and big tears bubble at the corners of his eyes again. "B-but I—"

"Roman?" That's Virgil's voice, why the fuck is he—oh, right, panic. "Princey?"

"Hey, shh," Remus soothes as Roman tries to hide in the lea of him, "hey, it's okay. I won't let him hurt you."

"Remus? Is that you?"

"Yeah. What do you want?"

"I heard the scream, I've been feeling his panic—look, I don't wanna shout through the door, can I come in?"

"Can he?" Roman takes a little too long to nod but he does. "Yeah, Virgil, get in here."

Virgil slips through the door and takes one look at Remus hovering protectively over his brother and immediately changes into the softest hoodie and sweatpants he has. He crouches down so it's easier for Roman to look at him and his voice drops to a low rumble.

"Hey, Princey," he says gently as Roman turns to look at him, "seems like you're having a real rough time right now, can I come help?"

"S-sorry."

"It's okay, bud, I'm not mad. You're gonna be okay. I just wanna help."

"I won't let him hurt you," Remus whispers, rubbing his back, "you're safe here."

It takes another long moment, but Roman slowly reaches out a hand and Virgil takes it, letting Roman draw him onto the bed. He joins Remus in rubbing up and down Roman's back, gently carding his fingers through his hair.

"Hey, Princey," he murmurs, still speaking softly, "you have a bad dream? Yeah? You wanna talk about it?"

Roman shakes his head.

"Can I ask Remus what's going on? Yeah? Thanks, bud."

Remus sighs, letting Roman cuddle into him. "He's not been having a good time recently, what with…everything going on. I think Patton and Janus blowing up about selfish stuff got into his head and Logan's whole…deal about rising above what he calls 'base' needs isn't helping."

"…yeah, shit, that sounds—that's not great."

"And, you know, being insulted and belittled every time he opens his mouth isn't helping either," Remus adds, glaring at Virgil as he winces.

"I know. I—fuck."

"Yeah. So be really fucking careful right now."

"Hey, Roman," Virgil calls softly, giving Roman the gentlest shake to get his attention, "hey, Princey, can you look at me for a second?"

Roman's head peeks out and Virgil smiles, reaching out to wipe a tear from his cheek.

"Hey, there, bud. You're okay. Was what Remus said right, are you—is shit a little too much right now?" Roman nods. "You want some reassurance, or do you just want us to be here?"

"'M sorry," Roman mumbles, "'m not—'m not trying to be needy."

"You're not being needy, Princey, you're upset and you want to be comforted. That's not needy."

"Or selfish either," Remus says when fucking Schaumburg starts whispering again, "you're allowed to want things and have them. That's not something to be ashamed of or feel guilty for."

"Shit," he hears Virgil mutter under his breath before there's another set of arms around Roman, "no, Princey, you're not bad for wanting things. Is this—I'm sorry I didn't realize it sooner. I shouldn't have left you alone for movie night last night either."

Right. Right, everyone else had cuddled up on the couch and Roman had arrived later when there was no room—fuck, Roro, I'm so sorry.

"It's okay, bud, you're okay. You're okay, you're safe, we're not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry," Roman cries out, hiding his face in the teddy bear, "I'm not—I'm trying, I'm trying, but it's so cold, I'm sorry—"

"Don't be sorry for wanting," Remus scolds lightly, glancing at Virgil who nods and starts gathering the blankets, "you're allowed to want things. And you just had a nightmare, that's an automatic you-get-cuddles-now. We can figure everything else out tomorrow, okay?"

Finally, finally Roman sniffles and looks up at both of them. "You guys really don't mind?"

"Nope!"

"Nah," Virgil says, ruffling his hair, "come cuddle, Princey."

As they all start to get ready to fall back asleep, Remus makes eye contact with Virgil. Virgil nods as Roman starts to doze—poor Roro, he must be so tired—and they close their eyes together.

***

Remus's bear cub growls lightly at Virgil as they reappear in the abandoned corner, but he pats its head. "He's a friend, it's okay."

"Yeesh," Virgil mutters, looking around, "this whole place feels like panic attack, is it always like this?"

"Roman's just really not having a good time right now. Just be glad you weren't here earlier."

"You know what, I'm not even gonna ask." Virgil takes a deep breath and tugs a little on his jacket, glancing around. "So! What's the plan?"

"I'm feeling like some anti-government arson and a side of political assassination, how about you?"

"Let's go start a riot."

The bear cub growls, swelling and growing until it's the size of a nearby wagon and Remus grins.

We gotcha, Roro. Sweet dreams.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#sanders sides #roman sanders #roman angst #virgil sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #dragonbabbles #fic

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noblest-roman-of-them-all · 8 months ago

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Happy Birthday, Remus!

Don't tell Roman this, but I was more prepared for your birthday than his this year. His totally caught me off guard, but I was ready for yours. I was going to do this cute casual cosplay with my necklace that has your emblem and even some fun make up. Then I woke up this morning and puked my guts up so. There's always next year, I suppose. Anyway, it's been a bit of a wild year since I last wrote to you. I started a new job, found some cool rocks, got into Paganism, partially dislocated my shoulder a few times. It's been wild. Oh! I also bought fishnets! That gets it's own sentence because I bought them specifically because of your skirt look.

I've been working on doing things that are me happy this year. Especially experimenting with clothing and makeup. I also bought that green lipstick I've been wanting for years and started regularly wearing black lipstick because of your skirt look.

You've inspired me to be braver in so many ways, but especially when it comes to my appearance. I'm going to be so real with you, as a mostly femme presenting person, as someone raised and socialized as female, I have spent a lot of time feeling insecure or down right icky about the little bit of facial hair I recieved from my Mexican genetics. (It's a tiny mustache, let's be honest. It's the world's smallest mustache that the vast majority of people probably don't notice, but actually is slightly darker than your run of the mill peach fuzz and I have been teased for.) And I've even come to being okay with that most days. Especially as I've allowed myself to lean into my gender-fluidity. It kinda makes me feel cool some days and it reminds me of you. (I've even considered the hack of darkening it with mascara, but I haven't been that brave yet.)

You've helped me grow a lot as a person, Remus. I've talked about the appearance thing a lot, but even with my writing. I'm allowing myself to write some gritty things and be blunt and forward about them instead of hiding them behind implication and euphemism. And I'm actually planning on posting them that way, which is huge for me.

This year has been an absolute journey and I am so grateful that I have had your example to walk me through it. I'm finding myself again, Remus, and that's with a lot of thanks to you. I still have a long ways to go, like, so much. But I think we all do. Life is a journey and we don't ever really stop growing. And I feel better for having grown to be a little more like you.

Happy Birthday, Remus, I hope it's been a good one, you deserve it. And thank you so, so much.

And thank you to @thatsthat24 for creating and sharing this wonderful choas incarnate with all of us. I truly would be a different person without him.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #birthday and thank you letters #happy birthday remus

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ask-the-t-sanders-sides · 9 months ago

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ERC ENDING: Remus' POV

[TW: this part features violence and swearing, if this triggers you, please skip this part, its not more important than your health.]

enjoy :] <3 (you can find all the other parts on #arcend on this blog)

"love the new outfit, bro" i try to be friendly

He is trying to copy me, right? Next thing he'll try to grow a mustache! I wont let it happen

"yeah.. i didn't really pick it myself, you know?" Wait what??

Okay maybe i wont have to kill him, GREAT!!

"why did it even happen? You're the prince guy" maybe he'll have an answer

"i dont know.. i hate it... Like- im supposed to be the good guy, the hero, THE KNIGHT IN SHINING ARMOR. But... But im not.." oh shit is he crying?? Shit fuck damnit

Okay who do i have to kill?

Oop- loud footsteps!! Is it the snake boi? Can i finally stab? HeheheheheheheheHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!!!!!

oh no its just Virgil... And Patton? What in the name of the rat boiz is this fuck doing here???

"what is HE doing here?!" Roman stop shouting you stupid bitch, this will make things worse

"Hes with us now" Virgil... Why are you protecting him? He literally helped Janus kill me and Logan! Are you out of your fucking mind?

"Yeah right!! He probably used his snake friend to poison your mind too. Re, get them OUT OF HERE." Roman's eyes are glowing green, didn't know he could do that. Nice.

Wait yes!! I can stab!

HAHAHAHA TIME FOR REVENGE YOU FUCKING TRAITORS.

where's my- there we go. Morningstar in hand, lets stab these fuckers the way Janus stabbed me.

Im going to spill their guts all over Logan's floor. Sorry not sorry, Lo.

Im going to watch as the blood runs down their-

"cookies! And we can watch some movies, i-if you'd like" Patton you stupid fu- ARE THESE CHOCOLATE COOKIES?! OMG OMFG YES!! IDC WHO YOU ARE I WANT THESE FUCKING COOKIES

Im taking them, im reaching my hand over and im grabbing them.

Nomnomnom oh fuck yeah! I love chocolate cookies so fucking much

"can we please calm down and just Hang out angst free for once? And its me saying this, you know its too much when the embodiment of angst tells you it's too angsty" Virgil is breaking my peace >:( I'd stab him if it didn't mean blood on my cookies

Roman sighs and oh shhhhiiiiittttt... Im supposed to kill Patton- back to th-

"fine" Roman what- you know what who am i to complain? I get free cookies!!!!!!!

I wonder how many of these i cant shove in my mouth at the same time...

Oh oh wait we're leaving right the tv is in the living room

What movie should we watch? I think we should watch a horror movie, fits the vibes

Lets sit here, i hate sitting on that thing- couch- that-

Oh wait i cant reach the cookies D:

Oh nvm lmao i have creativity magic :3

I wonder where Logan and Cronus are...

#ts sides #tss #tss rp #rp #sander sides #ts remus #remus sanders #tss remus #just remus stuff #arcend #thomas sanders #Thomas and Friends #sanders asides #ATTSS

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rataticaisdreaming · 2 years ago

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Pawton played chapter 2 of Sally Face today! can you guess who wasn't normal about it? 💙✨ enjoy my favorite moments in the order they happened!

not him starting by saying: "excuse me, a little frog in my throat, a little Lilypadton in my throat!" 🐸

his favorite way to say hello is: "hewwo!" 🥺 baby...

wise words i live by: "when in doubt, deny it out"

"Logan is the puzzle man, he should be playing this game" i would love to see a Logan gaming livestream!

Janus taught Patton that "moi" means "Patton" in french 💀

Pat being excited at seeing a mustached man "look at that little Remus in the corner!" 💚

Patton being thankful Kenny censored himself. according to him, if you play games with Roman or Virge, you don't have to care about cursing. only with Pat you shouldn't curse, which is a sweet thing to remember <3

it was extremely nice to hear Patton say that the bad things that happened in your childhood weren't your fault 🥺💙✨

Virgil or Logan always look around for security cameras, because "they are watching us", every time they go out. dad wasn't sure who exactly does it, probably both.

Kenny, stuffie Patton and Patton headbanging to Sanity's Fall gives me life!

"we found our Virgil", Patton says as he talks to an old woman who is wishing for death to take her already 💀

Logan and Patton agree that David Tennant is always a treasure to have! Logan probably loved him as the tenth doctor in Doctor Who and Patton loved season 2 of Good Omens <3

"dark misunderstood individual" was Patton's view on Virgil when he first met him, he was fascinated by the purp man 💜

"i'm a gaming dad! :D" him 🥺💙✨

"for frick's sake! i'm very angry right now >:(" look at this puppy failing to express anger.

Patton always makes sure Thomas gets a cookie! 💙🌈

the things that Patton does with each side: he loves cooking with Logan 💙 watching YouTube with Virgil 💜 playing roleplay games with Roman ❤️ enjoying quiet times with Janus 💛 and he doesn't hang out with Remus that much 💚

the flinching and hiding behind his hands with each jumpscare broke my heart! 😭💔

"God doesn't care about us," Patton immediately covers his mouth horrified that he had to read that in-game line.

"i can't do this, i can't..." he was covering the screen with his hand, not wanting to watch a heavy scene. while he was laughing at himself for saying dark things he never gets the chance to say, he was genuinely distressed with the heavy stuff :(

"do you want your therapy plushie?" asks Kenny, giving Patton a Winnie the Pooh pillow plushie to hug and feel better after such a wild experience 🧸💙

this was such a sweet experience and i'm looking forward to the next chapters of Sally Face! can't wait for Pat to play the insanity that is chapter 5 ✨

#he is my entire world 🥺💙✨#anniversary video bloopers coming out on patreon!#sanders sides #thomas sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders

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swifty-fox · 10 months ago

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mmmmm gimme that 18 and 22

18. from that one WIP thats no plot just vibes

all my MOTA fic is plot but ive got an old wolfstar supernatural murder mystery i abandoned

Remus is dreaming. Or at least he thinks he is.

It’s the type of dream where he can feel the tips of his fingers and the weight on his chest and every single molar in his jaw. The type of dream where dread and horror and fear sit in his lungs and prevent him from drawing breath.

He is buried alive.

He can feel the rich fertile earth covering his body, taste the clay and silt in his mouth. Crawling, desperate, hungry things slither over his body. He can hear the sounds of their chewing in his ears and he wants to scream only if he opens his mouth that will let them in. His flesh rots, his eyeballs melt out of his skull. The skin around his lips turns wizened and desiccated, peeling back from his teeth like the pages of a book.

Remus is bones, is decay, the worms feed on his decomposition and snakes slither through the latticework of his sternum. He breathes, and his lungs fill with mushrooms and soft nesting things. Butterflies alight on his corpse and sip the sweetly soured decaying flesh. There is a buzzing in his mouth, a soft wet bumblebee struggling to get out.

He opens his mouth. Mud fills his throat. The bee ceases her noise and a giant black spider emerges, scuttling past his lips and into the forest.

His parents are screaming his name, screaming for him. To run. To fight.

Fight it, fight it Remus, you have to fight it.

Remus opens his mouth. He opens his mouth and the spider escapes. He opens his mouth and the hungry things come pouring in, devouring him from the inside out. He opens his mouth and screams.

There is a bird who sits on a tower. With beady eyes so clever. Who sees the curling petal. Of every single flower.

A boy is staring at him. A boy with blue eyes and blue lips and blue, bruised, dead skin. His palms are stained and his body is bare, dehydrated and loose-limbed like a porcelain doll torn from its stand. He smiles at Remus with bloody, perfect teeth.

22. that is so blissfully indulgent

me hwne Gale angst and also he loves John

Gale takes a deep breath to compose himself, tucks the jagged angry edges of himself back to face inwards. “You said you would write.”

He glances up at Bucky and it's the other man who averts his gaze this time, face paling. He sits down heavily across from Buck and rubs a hand across his mustache, still avoiding eye contact.

“I meant to.” He finally says then laughs sharp and bitter, “I musta put pen to paper a thousand times. But I- well. The words just wouldn’t come. Figured eventually I might as well drive out and fetch you back with me.”

Gale's anger stutters and then goes out completely, leaving him hollow. Of course, of course he wasn't the only one with memories that nipped at his heels. And John, the man that he was, had decided to do something about it for the both of them. Who shouldered a sixteen hour drive because of course a letter wasn’t good enough, he’d already chased Buck into the heart of enemy territory, what were a few state lines?

“John Egan,” Buck drawls, “always to the rescue.” Bucky laughs, a genuine noise that sounds so foreign in the cold bare kitchen.

John was fake on the surface and all real underneath. Real bravery and real heart, a man who jumps on an armed German guard to save his friend. Who volunteered on the next mission out all because his friend had been shot down. And Gale, well he was just the opposite wasn't he? All real on the thin top layer and below that nothing much of substance. A good soldier, a good leader; good at being a man in all the ways that garnered approval and respect. He honed it to perfection, perfect responses full of bravado, not too harsh but not too intimate either. But below that…there was very little to behold. No matter how many times the other guys told him, he told himself, there would always be the fact that John faced down armed guards and Buck ran

#swiftytalks #ask games

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pencilpat · 1 year ago

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Sanders Sides: College AU

Part two of this AU! Here are the character sheets for everyone. Both Logan & Janus are transfem in this AU. Prequel, Part 1

Featuring queerplatonic logince and implied future dukeceit!

Janus and Remus have some realizations about each other as they begin to settle into sharing a space. Roman attempts a confession again, with much more success. Virgil and Patton are doing well, and enjoying pulling the strings behind getting their friends together.

3,970 words

CW: brief mention of ableism from a parent, character living in poverty, swearing

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Janus leans against her wall, pinching her eyebrows with a sigh. “So, a whole coffee shop right at your disposal wasn’t enough?”

Remus barely acknowledges her, simply continuing to set up the coffee maker he purchased while she was at school, humming to himself.

“Remus, I don’t even drink coffee. How do you expect this to be of use to me? In my apartment.”

“Ah please, it’s fine! If anything, I’ll just take it with me when I leave!”

“Yeah. Leave.” She pans her gaze over what once was her living room, however small and crappy it was. It’s now covered in folded piles of Remus’s clothing and miscellaneous junk. Sighing, she stumbles out of her crutches to rest them by the door, pressing her weight on the kitchen counter. “Remus…” she begins, but doesn’t even know what to say.

Hell, this is just as strange and surreal as it was last night when she got the text. Remus looks different, older, and healthier, with significantly more piercings and obscene tattoos. She can’t tell if he did them himself or got them done, but they do suit his ‘quirky’ nature. The wisp of a mustache above his lip is now filled out and curled. Him being entirely shirtless when she got home was also a surprise. When he said he needed a place to sleep she had assumed he would be sleeping here and not much else. It makes sense that the twin’s shitty parents got rid of Remus eventually, and the thought makes her pinch her lips together tightly. She observes him working to screw tiny screws into plastic, ashamed as she finds herself eyeing his lean muscular build. She scoffs at herself and walks the rest of the way over. It's just Remus, same idiot as he was in high school – she knows him and how to handle his eccentricity.

“Remus, the instructions call for the bigger screw for that hole-“

“Oh, I bet they do!” Remus chuckles, standing up with his hands on his hips to glare at the machine like it purposefully caused him to pick up the wrong screw. “Everyone’s always looking for a bigger screw aren’t they,” he says, this dramatic, pouting lilt coating the words. She snorts out a small laugh, a sound that seems uncharacteristic for her, yet one that Remus always used to draw forth.

“I’m sure they are with you, maybe,” she says in mock sympathy. Remus stands up straight and gasps at her, mockingly offended.

“Are you only good for witty quips or are you gonna help me build this thing?”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Huh, makes sense you don’t have the energy to help then!” Remus sticks his tongue out at her and goes back to his fiddling. She laughs breathily, and walks along the walls to her bedroom, overwhelmed.

She drops against her bed like a sack, muscles aching from a day of walking. She lays against her pillows and listens to her own breathing rasp slightly. Living with the mildew is taking its toll as well, she assumes. She blindly fumbles on her bedside table for the familiar feel of her over-the-counter pain medicine, taking two dry. Too tired to get a drink. Too tired to get up much more at all for the day, most likely.

Ah, but she does have to. She groans. Bananaconda, curse you and your feeding schedule, she grits her teeth, cursing her beloved pet for being so beloved. Her snake’s cage takes up and entire wall of her room pretty much, always present in her mind. She’s one of her main joys in life though, and God damn her if she doesn’t take better care of Banana than herself. She sits up again, giving herself a moment before pulling herself up fully to standing, stumbling over to the minifridge full of mice.

Bananaconda eats very willingly, thankfully, making her life slightly easier in its turmoil. She made sure to stroke her scales gently for a moment a bit before feeding her as well. Anyone who says snakes don’t thrive on affection is an idiot in her eyes. Janus sighs, watching the monthly lump of food slip along her pet’s belly. “I’m jealous of you, baby. If only I could sleep that much.” She laughs at her own murmured words, and half-stumbles half-crawls back to bed.

She’s resolved to study in the morning already when there’s a knock on her door. She hides her face in her pillow and groans. Loudly.

“Janus! There’s a whole horror movie marathon on! Remember watching all those old things? You should come watch!” Before she can say anything, her doorknob is turning. At the very least Remus has the decency to have his eyes covered as he opens the door, but he was seemingly too excited to talk through a door.

“Remus, I’m… very tired right now.”

“Huh? It’s only like 7!”

“Remus, please.” She holds up a hand, trying to pause him. “I… I can’t even get up right now, let alone get to the living room. I’d prefer to rest.”

“Oh.” Remus pauses, blinking behind his hand. “Well, I just know you used to love them a lot. I saw you lookin’ all sad and figured it might cheer you up?”

“Even if I do want to… I can’t get up, ok? I’m sorry, I know it’s annoying and inconvenient and whatever else, I’ve heard it before-“

“Why don’t I just carry you!”

Now that does pause her. “Remus, what?”

“Y’know, pick you up! Er, if you’re decent and all.”

“Yes, I’m decent.”

Remus immediately uncovers his eyes, still seemingly slightly disappointed as she says it. “I can carry you out here! You’re not heavy!”

“What, am I going to grow extra arms to hold on or something?” She can’t help laughing. She’s a grown woman only a few inches shorter than him – he can’t be serious.

He most definitely is, she realizes, as he steps over and begins putting his arms under her legs and back. She lets out a tiny yelp, and is up in the air before she knows it. Thank god the room is dark, because her entire face goes half dark half pink with flush. “Remus!”

Remus just cackles, and starts carrying her into the living room. The lights are also off out here, and she sees in the light of the TV screen that her cabinets have been scoured as there are packets of hot cocoa on the counter along with two mugs. Remus sets her on the pull-out bed with surprising gentleness, and she sees the beginning of the first Scream playing already. Remus goes to the kitchen and comes back with a cream yellow mug held out to her, steam glimmering in the TV light. She accepts it, still a bit breathless. Remus crawls over the bed, careful with his own mug of coffee – coffee, at 7 pm, she notes – and settles beside her. Their backs are pressed onto the backing cushions of the sofa.

She watches his face, glowing excitedly as he blows on his mug. He looks enraptured by a movie she knows he’s seen at least 6 times. It’s bizarrely cute to her, and she refocuses her gaze onto the movie, though not really watching. Was he always like this? She finds it hard to remember. She doesn’t remember being so… taken with him? She used to find him more of an annoying side-piece to the friendship with Virgil and Roman – a jester to their catty monarchy - though he was genuinely good to her and enjoyed being around her. She glances again at his brown eyes, seeming slightly red when lit up. He’s laughing through the first kill of the film, that high pitched cackle he’s always done. She supposes neither of them really knew what it was like to have people enjoy being around you before that little group.

She can’t help a light chuff of a laugh at herself, taking a drink of hot cocoa. What is she thinking about right now? It’s just Remus, that dumb kid from her high school. Any amount of loneliness on her part wouldn’t be a fair reason to tug at his heart, anyways.

Janus does enjoy the cocoa, and the movies – well, the three of them she makes it through. Remus made sure she was laughing and made as many inappropriate jokes as he could. He noticed her drifting to sleep as it got fully dark outside, and didn’t interrupt her, letting her fall to sleep. Her cocoa was fully drunk, and he lets her just… rest, for a while. He’s not an idiot, he did notice how exhausted she looked from the moment she opened the door. His eyes glance away from The Bride of Chucky onto her crutches. She didn’t have those in high school. Flitting back over to her face, Remus sighs out a low breath. Three years is longer than he thought, truly.

The molded apartment and impoverished conditions aren’t… new, for her, either. Virgil brought up to him once, during a panic attack, noticing Janus living in her car through most of the time they’d known her. Of course, himself and his brother were too rich and privileged to notice something like that. He glares at the television spitefully. If he had known, if she had ever mentioned it, if, if, if. Whatever. It’s unchangeable, and now he’s also cut off from that money and lifestyle. Turns out rich actors aren’t fond of ‘schizo’ sons. He shakes his head out from the thoughts as the marathon’s end title pops up, downs the last of his coffee, and then crawls off the bed. It doesn’t feel right to physically move her, so he sets the two blankets and pillow down on the kitchen floor and resolves to sleep there. Faces flit at him from the shadows of a new environment, but he's too at peace to feel distress.

“Heh, night Janus,” he whispers into the silent room. “Enjoy the bed.”

---

Apparently 9 pm on a Friday was the best Logan could manage, as their texts show, and Roman is chugging coffee just in case. Patton and Virgil will not stop being lovebirds in the living room, and Roman seethes over his mug at them from the chair across from the sofa.

“Geeze, Rom, if you glare any harder you might actually put holes in us,” Virgil chuckles, sitting up just slightly, laying against Patton’s chest and stomach. This only makes Roman glare harder at him, and Virgil rolls his eyes. “Roman, dude, it’s ok. We have the plan remember? Subtly clearing out once she gets here?”

“You could just go now!” Roman whines, very loudly.

Patton giggles at him. “Roman, c’mon, you know she thinks it’s a friendly hang out! She would be confused if it’s just you when she gets here.”

Roman groans, but he knows they’re right. It feels… icky? Just weird, to do to her, but if Patton thinks she’ll be ok with it, he trusts their advice. Roman takes a large drink of lukewarm coffee and pulls out his phone again. He is still in dress pants, his black gloves, and a slightly undone blouse despite Virgil and Patton having chosen to be in pyjamas. Casual elegance is always his expectation for himself, even when a cutie isn’t due over any minute. His phone has yet to show any signs of Logan getting any closer though.

Only a few minutes later, it seems Logan just doesn’t announce her arrival. Roman lets out a startled squeal as a knock comes on the door. He instinctively hides behind his hands for a moment, and Virgil laughs at him. He huffs and stands up to open it to her, coaxing his cheeks to lose their flush. He pulls the door open with a smile, and finds her standing calmly, dressed in a simple black polo shirt and jeans, the porch lights glinting off her piercings. Shockingly it’s the most casual he’s ever seen her, and he’s caught staring at her. The undone top button may as well be pornography as far as her usual attire is concerned.

She clears her throat. “Roman? Are you ok?”

He stands up straight, nodding. “Yeah- Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Why don’t you come in.” He bows to the side and gives her room to enter. She raises and eyebrow and smiles just slightly and his unnecessary grandiosity. Logan walks inside, already knowing where the living room is due to visiting Patton here once or twice. Roman trails behind her, brushing at his white streak of hair, tucking it behind his ear. He tries to watch her move without actually staring, her light and poised way of walking enrapturing him as always.

“Hello Patton, hello Virgil,” she waves as she walks in, settling on one of the other free chairs that doesn’t have Roman’s cup on the table beside.

“I made coffee if you would like a cup? I even let it cool so I can put some ice in it!”

“That’s very kind, Roman, thank you.”

Roman smiles, proud of himself, and practically skips to the kitchen to get her a glass. Virgil turns his head to look at her, picking up the remote to turn off whatever gameshow was on previously. He switches to Netflix and smiles. “Going for the classic Doctor Who tonight, L? Or did you have anything new you wanted to check out?”

“I actually have not watched any of Doctor 12, my studies really picked up before I could get that far.”

“Actually shocking you haven’t seen Matt Smith yet,” Virgil teases. Logan raises her eyebrows at him with a playful smile. “Just saying, you’re a nerd for this show, I figured you would have seen literally everything it has to offer.”

“Eh, school has always been top priority, even if it means not doing much else.”

“Still, you should schedule in a free day, or something. Just like, a day for doing things for fun.”

Logan seems to consider it, touching her chin. “That is true, doing things for enjoyment is a necessary part of life – it’s just difficult to fit it in, what with work and school taking up almost every day I have.” She shrugs, closing her eyes with a sigh.

“You need something fun, Lo!” Patton calls, obviously already sleepy based on their voice. “Even if it’s a silly show or just going out to eat instead of… well, eating oatmeal for every meal.”

“I like oatmeal,” she retorts, sitting up slightly and crossing her arms.

“You like other things too, though!”

She sighs and nods, conceding. “You’re right, Patton. Other foods can be enjoyable.”

Virgil and Patton exchange a glance as Roman reenters the room. “Y’know, me and Pat are busy most of the week too, but Roman has pretty light courses – you two should go get dinner some time.”

“Oh! Why yes, Virge, that does sound lovely!” Roman hands her the cold caffeine and she smiles in thanks. Their hands touch slightly, and Roman rushes back to the other chair to try hiding the way his face darkens.

“Mm, very well. Getting food is an acceptable activity to lose time on, considering I would need to eat either way.”

“And I will be paying, of course!” Roman touches his chest as it puffs out proudly.

“Roman, I make my own money, I assure you I can-“

“Ugh, just let me do something nice for you!” he says, a bit too aggressively. Paton giggles at him and hides their face against Virgil. “You deserve someone to treat you, Logan.”

Logan sighs, not fully grasping the reason he wants to, but supposing that it won’t hurt. “Alright, Roman, if you insist. We can alternate who pays.”

Roman’s mouth shuts, and he tries not to look annoyed at Logan’s refusal to be spoiled. Patton and Virgil certainly never complain, considering his incredibly large allowance from his parents. Even with all the clothing he buys, it would still be difficult to spend $7,000 monthly without friends to support. He chooses to gripe in silence though, as Virgil turns on Doctor Who and the title theme sounds its sci-fi score through the room. Roman glances over at Logan again, pleased to see a relaxed grin on her lips as she drinks coffee.

They all relax through the first four episodes of the season, Logan occasionally asking for clarification on the emotional themes and Patton in return requesting clarification on the scientific themes. Roman makes occasional compliments to certain shot framing and lighting choices, and Virgil remains mostly silent.

After the end of the fourth episode, Virgil yawns exaggeratedly. “Well, L, I think me and Patton are going to head to bed, but since you don’t work until like 2 tomorrow, you and Roman should stay up and keep watching. If needed you can stay over, too, you know the couches rock.”

Logan smirks slightly. “Yes, the couches are quite comfortable. Very well, you two. Rest well, remember to brush your teeth.”

“If the couches are so nice, perhaps we should slide over onto that one now that they’ve cleared off!” Roman declares as the couple disappears down the hall to the bedrooms. Logan hums in agreement and they both move over. Their coffees are gone, and Roman finds himself with nothing to fidget with. He ends up picking at the leg of his pants and tapping his foot, barely able to pay attention to the show. How could he when she’s right there, breathing and shifting so close to him? He tries sneaking his hand closer to her own, trying to build tension. She doesn’t seem to notice, focused on the show.

Roman takes a breath, and fully slides his hand over to rest on top of hers. She immediately begins to pull it away, turning to glance at him. “Do you need something, Roman?”

“U-uh- Nothing, no! Your… hands… just look soft?”

She pauses, tilting her head at him. “Soft?”

Roman is screaming curses at himself in his head, but he tries to smile casually through it. “Y-yes! They look,” he picks one up gently, lightly running his gloved fingers over the back of her hand, “really smooth, and your fingers are very long and thin… They are quite dainty.”

“Um. Thank you, Roman.” Logan seems taken aback; her face confused. “Why do you bring it up?”

Roman meets her eyes, her light blue ones clear enough to hold his reflection, and a small sigh leaves him. “I don’t know. All of you has always looked quite soft to me. Truthfully… I think about it probably a bit too often.” He smiles bashfully, glancing down away from her eyes. “I think about you a bit too often.”

Logan tries to piece together what he’s talking about in her mind. Thinks about her? Her being soft? It’s not tracking with her – Roman thinking of her often doesn’t seem like a characteristic she would expect. “What do you mean by that, Roman?”

“I- I mean,” Roman glances up to her face again, something passionate and soft filling his features. “What I mean is that- is that I like you, Logan.”

“I like you too, Roman, you’re an excellent friend.”

“No! No, as- as more than that. I like you in ways beyond friendship.”

Logan blinks rapidly, mouth falling open slightly. “Oh- Goodness, Roman- I’m sorry, I- I don’t- I’m not exactly interested in romance. With anyone, not just you in particular.”

“Ah. Oh.” Roman chews at his lip awkwardly. Of course she wouldn’t be. It makes sense given how romantically illiterate she is. “I mean… we don’t necessarily have to be romantic?” he proposes.

“What do you mean?”

Roman licks his lips, sighing, trying to put his words in order. “What I mean is, while I do like you as more than a friend, that doesn’t necessarily mean we have to be romantic partners!”

“How so?”

“Well- There are other types of attraction! Like how I’m mostly homoromantic, but sexually I don’t have much preference at all!”

“So… you are implying we would only be sexual?”

“Er, well no! Not necessarily. Oh, goshdarnit, words can be hard. There’s more than just romance and sex too! Like, even though you are feminine in your gender and not my typical type, aesthetically I find you incredibly beautiful! And- and I picture you erotically or sensually quite often as well.”

It’s Logan’s turn to go pink, glancing away to process her thoughts. Before Roman mentioned experiencing these feelings, she hadn’t thought to consider him in that way at all. But she quickly glances him over again, his dark skin with light markings glowing in the television lights and his perfect, slightly long hair. His golden jewelry and greenish eyes, filled with hope and warmth as he looks at her. Perhaps she gets what he means by aesthetic beauty.

Logan breathes in slowly, and fully meets his gaze once again. “Well, Roman- I suppose- I mean, I understand your thoughts. You are also a very attractive person.” Doctor Who is nothing but background noise now, their gazes locked solely on each other. Roman is clinging to every word she speaks, holding her hand in his own trembling ones. “If it would make you happy, I would… be willing to attempt non-romantic partnership. I need to do further research on this whole subject of attraction, I think. There seems to be more to it than I realized.” Logan touches her chin. “What do you call a partnership like this? I don’t know, ‘non-romantic partner’ seems a mouth full.”

Roman tries to tamper down the joy for a moment to properly explain the topic to her - it’s rare he’s the one to teach Logan something. “Well, in queer spaces most of the time they call it a ‘queerplatonic’ or ‘queererotic’ relationship.”

“That is also a mouthful.”

“Hence why they shorten it! ‘QPR’, ‘QPP’- er, as in ‘queerplatonic partnership’.”

Logan hums, seeming to rotate the words over in her mind. “Very well. I suppose, then, that you are my queerplatonic partner.”

Roman grins at her widely, his slightly crooked teeth shining in the low light. She smiles back, a bit shocked with herself. Roman squeezes her hand, and chuckles. “Er, for boundary reasons- Am I allowed to kiss you?”

Logan can’t help a single sharp syllable of an embarrassed laugh slipping out of her, her face blushing deeper. “Sure, Roman, if it’s quick. I’m not very big on physical affection most times.”

Roman nods, and plants a quick respectful kiss on her cheek, giggling at himself. “This is so stupid- I’m being so awkward, I’m sorry!”

“It’s quite alright, I also feel awkward.”

“I can tell, nerd, your face is so bright it’s shining.”

Logan looks away, adjusting her glasses on her nose. “You don’t look much better, frankly.”

They meet eyes again, exchanging tiny smiles. “I suppose those dinner plans are a definite now, hm?”

“I suppose they are.”

“Want to finish watching this stupid nerd show?”

“Of course I do.”

“Can I cuddle you during it?”

“Of course you can.”

Roman and Logan lay against each other, their bodies warm with embarrassment. Logan lets herself get so wrapped up that she does end up having to stay the night for time’s sake, and Roman leaves her to rest on the sofa for the night with one more quick, flushed kiss. Logan curls into the throw blanket and lets a geeky smile fully fill her face in the cover of darkness. She doesn’t know how she got here, with a careless, dramatic theatre major of all things. Logically they’ll be incompatible, right? She doesn’t know.

What Logan does know is that Roman’s confession felt right, in some way – like it was meant to happen. And the brief kisses certainly didn’t feel bad either. She falls asleep warmly, with no idea what the future might hold for the first time in years.

#logince #dukeceit #sanders sides #college au #sanders sides au #tss au #janus sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #my writing #sanders sides fanfic #tss fanfic

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the-duke-of-nuts · 2 years ago

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The Florist and The Tattoo Artist

Day 1: Tattoo Shop/Florist @dukexietyweek

Author’s Note: It’s Spooky Gays week bbs! You all remember last year when I said I'd write a fic to this exact prompt based on my post? Of course you do! I of course did not write it yet B U T don't scroll away just yet I promise there's something. I've written a little snippet (I say snippet as if it isn't literally half of one of the chapters) on one of the scenes that happen in the story but I made sure to write in a way where you don’t really need the whole fic to understand what’s going on. With that being said enjoy I guess!

Summary: Pretty much just Remus coming up with a tattoo design for Virgil and asking him out on a date.

Pairing: Dukexiety

Word Count: 1018

Warnings: Food Mention, I guess Remus mentioning his ass I don't know there's not really much here so I think just those should be fine

"Y'know for a tattoo artist I'd expect you to have at least one." Virgil commented as he started watering the beautifully grown plants in the shop. "Oh I do I gave myself a tentacle sword one on the right side of my ass." Remus answered casually. "How did- Y'know what I don't wanna know." The tattoo artist cackled at seeing Virgil shake off the impressive yet disturbing thought.

"Trust me I'm gonna get more soon. So what about you, have you ever thought about getting a tatt?"

"I mean... I wouldn't mind getting one I just don't know of what." The florist shrugged as he finished watering the plants and walked back to the counter. "Well for starters where do you want it?" Remus asked. Virgil thought about it for a moment. Despite the florist's appearance he never thought that far ahead about where'd he even get a tattoo let alone hoped for one in the first place but knowing the tattoo artist, the mustached man would probably come up with a big or possibly suggestive kind of design for him so he went the safe route.

"I don't know probably like..." Virgil started rolling down his sleeve and pushed his wristbands and bracelets out of the way and pointed to his wrist and forearm. "On my wrist or forearm or somewhere around there." "Hmm..." Remus suddenly took Virgil's arm and started lightly tracing the design he had in mind on the emo's wrist area. The florist fought back from shivering at the touch already knowing the smug words that would come out of the tattoo artist's mouth if he did or looked back up and saw how much he was blushing but luckily Remus was still distracted with figuring out the design.

How did we get to this... One moment we're working across from each other and I'm trying to kick you out of here as much as possible on the daily and next thing I know I can't get enough of your stupid flirting...

"Got it."

Virgil immediately snapped out of his thoughts once he heard Remus speak again. "I think something like a stormcloud with patches on your wrist would look good. Something like... OOH! Do you have any paper?" Virgil looked under the counter and found his sketchbook and handed it to Remus with a pencil. The florist mentally hoped and prayed the tattoo artist didn't carelessy flip the pages too fast and see the drawing of him on the very last page.

If he asks or says anything just tell him it's Freddie Mercury but edgy.

But Virgil instantly relaxed when Remus thankfully started sketching the design on the first empty page he spotted which was in the middle of the book.

Remus was known to be fast with his sketches but he made sure everything was detailed and perfect to the point where he didn't even need to use the eraser. After a minute or two Remus finally finished the drawing and looked at it satisfied. "Like this."

Once the tattoo artist flipped the sketchbook over to reveal the design, Virgil stared at it amazed. When Remus said a stormcloud with patches he certainly delivered. It was so detailed that the emo even immediately knew what colors he wanted it all to be.

"Woah holy shit that actually looks pretty badass!" "Thank you! I tend to give only the best for my Muses~" Remus winked smirking as he put the sketchbook back down.

Wink at me with those damn pretty eyes one more fucking time and I'll give you something to be smug about

Virgil cleared his throat blushing. "I'll think about it." "Cool just let me know and I'll give it to you for free." The florist went wide eyed at hearing that. Normally people would be grateful for not having to pay for a tattoo but the thought of Remus possibly needing the money one day just didn't sit right with Virgil.

"What? Ree no no no I can't but what if-"

"No butts except yours getting the tatt for free Vee Vee!" Remus booped Virgil's nose to which the florist sighed defeated trying to swat the tattoo artist's hand away. "Fine." Virgil playfully huffed and crossed his arms looking away. "Good..." Remus suddenly smirked. "Fair warning though tatt's on the wrist hurt like a bitch but I'll gladly hold your hand if you need me to~" He teased wiggling his eyebrows. "Shut up." A flustered Virgil playfully hit a cackling Remus' shoulder.

"But if you really wanna pay me back I'll also take a date as a form of payment~"

"Not that I'm immediately saying yes or anything but what did you have in mind?"

"There's an Italian restaurant down the street... I know how much you love pizza and bread sticks~" Remus took Virgil's hand and kissed it smirking as the emo's face became even redder.

Can you stop making me wanna fucking kiss you for 10 seconds!?

"Alright fine you had me at the pizza and bread sticks." Virgil said not letting go of Remus' hand. The tattoo artist beamed at hearing that. "Really? Well how does tonight after we both close sound?" Virgil couldn't help but smile at Remus' eagerness. He missed seeing that pretty spark of excitement in the tattoo artist's eyes. "I'd like that." "Yes!" Remus fist pumped whispering victoriously to himself.

"You won't be disappointed-"

The tattoo artist was cut off by his phone alarm ringing to which he dramatically sighed and turned it off.

"Looks like my lunch break is over... Meet back outside of here later?"

"Sounds good."

Remus smiled at the approval and before he could turn away and leave Virgil tugged him back to him and kissed his cheek causing him to freeze and blush. "Now go before I change my mind and you mess up your schedule and if you do, that won't be on the lips tonight." Virgil teased. "Yes Sir~" Remus smirked and quickly ran out of the shop and back to his job. Virgil chuckled and shook his head.

I'm in love with a dork.

#dukexietyweek2023 #dukexiety #virgil #virgil sanders #remus #remus sanders #ts virgil #ts remus #sanders sides #thomas sanders #dukey writes

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