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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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Ready, Rough and Unromantic | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley has a rough day at work, he knows the only thing that will make him feel better is his wife. But will you let him dominate you? Will you let him use you just how he needs to? He shouldn't have been surprised by your answer or your response to him.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, rough smut, dominant smut

Length: 2500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"I am so proud of you, Roo," you whispered, kissing his neck and zipping up his flight suit. It was early, the sun was just peeking through the bedroom curtains, but you were up helping him get ready for the first day of his duties.

Bradley would be spending the week as an assistant instructor at Top Gun. Few people would appreciate what an honor this was, but you understood it implicitly. You hadn't yet bothered to dress for the day, but you decided to wake up early to wish him luck.

He ran his fingers along your soft skin, completely bare for him except for your glasses and wedding rings, as he said, "I always want to make you proud, Baby Girl."

When Bradley tipped his head down to kiss your cheek, you giggled. The sound went right to the part of his brain that controlled his unbridled desire for you. All he had to do was squeeze your bare hip with his big hand, and you looked up into his eyes.

"Do we have time?" you asked softly before you bit your lip.

He kind of shrugged and grunted, but you were already lowering the zipper of his flight suit all the way down. Bradley let you take the lead on this one, and when you dropped to your knees, he was not disappointed.

The way you wrapped your pretty lips around his cock... yeah, there would always be time for that. "You're so fucking good," he groaned as you took him deep, and he hit the back of your throat. You sucked on him until you were gagging, then you pulled him out as a strand of your saliva dripped onto your tits.

"This is for good luck," you told him before you tilted your head and sucked on his balls until he was pulling on your hair a little rough.

"Oh," he groaned. "My wife doesn't mess around." His words were deep and gruff compared to the long, soft moans you made as your tongue swirled up the length of his cock.

You kissed the tip of him, whispered, "I love you," and then you gave him absolutely filthy head until he was cumming all over you. Your hollowed cheeks and warm hands had him fucking your face until cum dripped out of the corners of your lips. And when he spurted onto your glasses a second later, your giggle returned.

Bradley loved the sight of it enough that he wanted to make a mess with you later on when he had more time. Coat your glasses up real good. Maybe help you lick them clean.

"Fuck," he growled. "I need to leave, Sweetheart." Bradley pulled you to your feet and placed a soft slap to your ass. You kissed him hard one time, and he promised he'd take care of you later.

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"Tally, tally!" called one of the younger recruits into the radio. But his teammate and wingman left him hanging long enough that Bradley got himself quickly into position. A few seconds later, Bradley got tone on him and eliminated him.

He was feeling great, and when the team landed along with Bradley, he took some time to show them where they went wrong and how they could improve. "As soon as you hesitate, it's over," he informed them, knowing very well that he had learned that lesson himself not terribly long ago.

The recruits filed back inside for lunch while Bradley joined Maverick and the other teachers to go over the plans for the afternoon. Honestly, he was having a great day, and when he was told he'd be taking another team up in the afternoon, he was looking forward to it.

But he must have been distracted. Or maybe he was the one who hesitated this time. Because as soon as Bradley managed to fly the two seater Super Hornet into a corner, he heard tone lock onto his own aircraft.

He had been outmaneuvered by a twenty five year old student.

Bradley landed his aircraft in a state of shocked silence, barely managing to communicate with the tower. He was mortified. And of course, as soon as he walked into the tower, everyone knew about it.

"It happens," Mav told him. "It was your first day instructing. You'll nail their asses to the wall tomorrow."

But Bradley could see the looks on the students' faces. He could practically hear Nat's voice through her text message.

Are you fucking kidding me, Rooster? They took you out?

He wasn't even sure how she heard about it from the simulation classroom. But seemingly everyone knew. It took everything inside him to keep his shoulders squared and his voice calm. Because inside he wanted to rage. He wanted back up in the air. He wanted to meticulously pick off every single other aircraft one at a time until he didn't feel like a joke anymore.

And that made him feel like maybe he wasn't ready to be an instructor yet.

"Fuck," he growled, slamming his locker door closed later. Absolutely nobody messed with him in the locker room. Nobody would even look at him. He was surrounded by dead silence everywhere he went.

As he stormed out to his Bronco, his skin was crawling with the burning need to prove himself. To dominate his surroundings. When he started up the engine, he took a few deep breaths that did nothing to calm the rising temperature of his humiliation. The blazing desire to conquer. Overpower. Defeat.

He needed to get home to you. Somehow he knew you were the only thing that would make him feel better.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, he was practically panting. You were already home from work. This was good. When he opened the front door, he called out, "Where are you?" His voice was raspy. His body was too hot.

"In the kitchen, Roo!" you replied. "Come tell me all about your day!"

You had taken your boots and socks off, but you were still in your uniform with your hair pulled back in a tight bun. And you were up on the kitchen counter changing the lightbulb that he had noticed kept flickering. This kind of shit was his job to take care of around the house. You shouldn't have to be up on the counter like this.

But as soon as he really looked at you, his cock throbbed with need. You looked at him over your shoulder as you finished with the new bulb. "What's wrong?" you asked softly, slightly alarmed. You must have seen the look in his eyes. He had never looked at you like this before.

Bradley knew you could make him feel better. If you let him do it. If you'd let him take his day out on you.

He snagged you off the counter and into his arms as you squealed, but you quickly gaped at him as he carried you to the bedroom.

"Bradley?" you whispered, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and searching his face.

He tossed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you, not bothering to remove his boots. You were silent, eyes wide and lips softly parted as he let you have his body weight. Your gaze was on his lips like you were expecting him to kiss you and be your sweet husband like he usually was.

"No," he growled, and your eyes darted up to his. You looked needy and uncertain. Bradley could tell you wanted to ask him what was going on. But then he read your last name on your nametag, annoyed that it didn't say Bradshaw yet. Very gently, he removed it, snapped it in half, and threw it across the room. Then he unbuttoned your shirt without a word and pushed it open wide.

Your nipples were straining against your black lace bra. You were very subtly rubbing yourself up against his hard cock. Your pupils were dilated. You wanted to get fucked.

"I hate your fucking name tag. Okay?" he asked, voice gruff as he wrapped his hand around the front of your neck. "I hate it."

You bit your lip and whispered, "You had a bad day."

"You told me you were going to get a new name tag," he grunted, pressing his hard cock against your thigh. "You said you submitted the paperwork for your name change."

"I did." Your voice was so needy. Bradley shoved his thumb into your mouth and watched as you opened wide and licked him.

"Get a new fucking name tag. And leave the light bulbs for me to change."

"I will," you said again with your mouth full of his thumb.

"Shut up," he growled, and your eyes went so wide as you moaned. "I'm not in the fucking mood. And I'm not going to be sweet. Not right now. I'm going to fuck you so hard, you cry. Use your pussy exactly how I want to."

You moaned around his thumb again.

"Tell me that's what you want," he demanded. You nodded your head, and he withdrew his thumb. "Fucking say it."

"I want it." Your voice was breathy but sure, and Bradley was going to dominate you until your tears and whining made him feel better. Because there was always only you who could fix him.

He practically ripped open the front of your khaki uniform pants to get to you. Bradley yanked the fabric down your legs and sent your pants across the room to meet your broken name tag. Tiny, black lace panties cut low on your hips. He could see your tattoo. He could tell you were wet through the fabric.

"You look like a little slut," he informed you. He watched you bite your lip as your back arched off the bed. "You shouldn't be this excited about being manhandled." Then the scrap of black lace met the same fate as your pants and the name tag.

Bradley had to commend you. You kept your mouth shut as he unzipped his flight suit, lowering the sleeves and pulling his cock free. You were silent as he rubbed himself through your wet slit. You didn't make a noise as he slowly slid himself inside your dripping wet pussy until he bottomed out. And only the softest sound escaped your lips as Bradley wrapped his big hands around your hips and lifted you slightly off the bed.

But you screamed when he held you in place, your ass in midair, and fucked you like you were his own personal toy. He slammed into your pussy with short, rough strokes. It was, in so many ways, the dirtiest thing he had ever done to you. And it felt to fucking good, Bradley could cum inside you right now. But your screams had him going harder, wanting to enjoy this feeling of control for as long as possible.

"Louder," he told you. But he didn't really even need to say anything as he tightened his grip on your flesh and fucked you until tears leaked from your eyes. Your cries filled the room, so loud his ears were ringing from it.

He withdrew from your body and let you fall to the bed. You were scrambling now, reaching for him. Looking up at him with tears in your eyes like you needed him to kiss you.

He flipped you onto your belly before ramming his cock inside you again. Your hands were all balled up in the pillowcase as you cried out against the bedding. The rapid slap slap slapping noise of his body dominating yours was one of the prettiest things he had ever heard. The way you were letting him calm his nerves and soothe his ego, well if he hadn't already married you, he'd do it today.

He palmed you softly before laying a solid smack right to the round of your ass. You moaned and sucked in a deep breath as he leaned down and put his lips next to your ear. "Tell me you want me to stop."

You shook your head and turned to look back at him, eyes red with tears. "Keep going," you hiccupped. "Please."

Bradley pushed your face back down into the pillow as you gasped and cried for him. He pumped his hips hard, grabbing at your thighs and your backside. Then he wrapped his forearm underneath you and pulled you up until you were on your knees for him. And how he had the perfect view of your body as you took him, full hilt, like a champ. You gorgeous pussy grabbed at him with each stroke, and Bradley spit on you where you were joined, making everything wetter.

"You like this, don't you?" he asked as you moaned and whimpered. "Huh? You actually fucking like this." He was so close as he spanked you just to feel you clench around him. "You fucking slut."

He pressed his lips to your ear again and slipped his hand up to shove his fingers into your mouth. You were moaning and slobbering all over his hand, crying into the pillow.

"You're perfect," Bradley growled as he filled you up with his cum. He fucked you with jerky strokes, pushing his load deeper and deeper until he guided you down flat on your belly with his hand on your ass. You were half crushed under his body weight, kitten licking his fingers when he realized he felt so good. So much calmer. You made everything better just like he knew you would.

But now he was slightly concerned that he had taken it too far, even with your permission. As he kissed along the back of your neck and ran his fingers softly up your arm, he whispered, "Are you okay, Baby Girl?"

Your voice was still a little watery with tears as you said, "I won't be able to walk tomorrow. And now I need to update my to-do list so I remember to order a new name tag. But that was hot. Do you feel better?"

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms and buried his nose against your skin. He felt perfect. "So much better. Thank you."

He helped you to your feet with the promise of a bubble bath. Then he assured you he could figure out how to make something for dinner. After he picked up all of the discarded clothing, he threw your name tag in the bathroom trash can while you sank down into the tub.

"I have an extra name tag in my office, you know," you told him with an eye roll and a smirk.

"I know," he replied, bending to kiss your nose. "And I have an extra one in my locker. You can have it. We can match. It'll be cute." And now all he could think about was you wearing his last name on your khaki uniform every day.

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Okay, yes...okay, yep. That happened. Stay tuned for the upcoming (4th!) series with Roo and BG called Always Ever Only You! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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mythicalviper-fr · 2 years ago

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FR Skin Contests and You (and Me)

Let’s talk about festival skin contests.

This post will be 1) about win conditions 2) my breakdown on my wins/losses. Before we start, please know a lot of this is guesswork, and based on my own perspective. Still, I hope this will be useful for some people ^^

***August/888 and I (but August mostly as it’s his idea) will be hosting an event encouraging new artists to join festival contests on 8/8. It will have a lot of tips and references to help get you started, so please keep an eye out!

When it comes to skin contests, people generally enter for one of three reasons: 1) for fun 2) because it’s seen as a milestone of skinmaking, or 3) out of a desire to push yourself to the limit knowing you’ll regret it like a Sunday hangover– but I hope that’s just me.

In my two years of participating in skin contests, I’ve seen a lot of artists join with a lot of excitement, only to give up or drop out because they aren’t winning. Some blame it on skill, others blame it on the staff, and some blame it on fellow competitors.

Here’s what I will say: like any contest, winning the festival skin contest is based on a combination of luck, knowledge, and skill. Just like any contest, there is a strategy to it and there are win conditions that you have to fulfill if you want a chance at winning. Some artists find these win conditions quickly and are able to adapt and cultivate the skill needed to pull off a win. Some are aware of these win conditions but do not yet have the skill to pull off a win. And some aren’t aware at all. A loss is usually (but not always) a result of not fulfilling those win conditions, or not fulfilling them as much as another artist.

So, let’s talk about these win conditions.

The Biggest Win Condition: Breed Variety

In my opinion, the biggest factor that makes or breaks an entry is breed variety. Over the past ten years, there's been a consistent trend of staff picking one winner per breed/pose, though there are occasional outliers (most recently, two Aether M for Brightshine, but previously also Undertide M and Spiral M). This means whenever you submit a skin, you’re competing against artists that also submitted the same breed/pose.

For those who aren’t aware, breed variety has been dropping in contests, along with the number of submissions. The result is that there are very few submissions for less popular breeds. Take a look at Brightshine 2023 - the majority of the submissions were Aethers. But even if there ended up being three Aether wins, that meant none of the other Aether skins made it in.

I want to explain this with numbers. Say Aethers (M&F) made up 60% of the Brightshine 2023 submissions but could only make it into 2 or 3/16 of the winning slots. That’s 60% of the submissions eliminated from making it into the remaining 13/16 slots. Where would the other 13/16 skins come from, if staff were to stick to their trend of 1 breed/pose skin per festival? The flight breeds - Imp and PC might take up 4 more slots. But that’s still 9/16 slots that need winners and only 30% of the submissions to pick from. Additionally, ancients will generally make up at least 40% of the winning submissions, if not 50%. That’s why having 100 submissions might mean there aren’t a lot of winners the staff could pick, and why there weren’t any Fae skins for Starfall 2022 or Spiral M skins for Mistral 2023.

I tested this theory with F Ridgeback submissions. I mainly focused on three breed/poses that I saw as the least submitted - F Noc, F Bog, and F Ridgeback. I went with Ridgeback because it was the base I liked the most. The result? Out of the 22 contests I’ve entered, I won 5 with F Ridgeback. That’s a 25% win rate with one breed/pose alone. If we factor in wins I’ve had with these three poses combined, that’s 8 wins or a 36% win rate.

Drawing on an unpopular breed/pose is a good way to make sure you don’t have too many competitors (and also show some of the more unpopular breeds some love). This is particularly true if you’re a newer artist like I was. I started doing art in June 2021, so I knew there was no chance I could outcompete better artists on the same breed/pose.

Of course, choosing the right breed will not always net you a win - you still need good skin composition and skills to catch the staff’s attention, which is what we’re going to talk about next.

Statutory Win Conditions: Flight Themes & Colors

When it comes to making a skin for a festival contest, I always recommend people look at the apparel, lore, and familiars for that flight, because these items are usually the closest to what’s canonically considered a flight’s aesthetic. A lot of the entries I’ve seen win are based off of the fest fams or match a fest apparel.

There are exceptions. The game aspect of the Lightning Flight isn’t canon, but we’ve had hivemind and gaming skins win. Why? Maybe that contest only had a total of 12-15 breed/poses submitted, maybe it was just the best executed skin for that breed/pose, maybe a staff member just really liked it. However, generally winners will match the flight’s canon aesthetic.

The trend of skin contest winners also suggest a favoring of elements that are placed on the dragon’s wings and head (leaves, vines, fairy/insect wings, gears), or accent/tattoo-like effects that involve gradient, sparkles, or abstract smoke (see 888’s 2023 brightshine win). Skin compositions that are balanced (elements throughout the body, as opposed to just one part of the body) see a higher win rate. Skins that have lower accent coverage tend to see higher win rates when they’re gradients/accents (linings on the dragon, runic/circuit effects) or when they’re concentrated on an easily noticeable/central part of the body (like the wings, or the dragon’s back).

In the end, knowing what to draw really comes down to research and knowledge. Before each contest I would review all the past winning entries and try to glean what staff did or didn’t pick. I noticed that staff didn’t tend to pick whiteout or body morph skins, and they tend to pick skins with higher coverage. I also checked past festival winners to see the color theme for each contest. There are some contests during which colors that aren’t necessarily the flight’s colors are still picked, and there are contests that haven’t seen a festival skin which didn’t match the flight’s colors. Like any contest, there’s always going to be a small bit of luck involved.

Ultimately, while I can’t speak for the staff, I do think there are win conditions that need to be fulfilled. You need to have a basic level of art skill. You need knowledge on skin composition and colors. Then, of course, you need to know which breed/pose to choose.

I hope my analysis helps a little when you’re entering your next contest, or that it made for an interesting read. If you just came here for general tips and tricks, that’s all I have for you - you can also scroll all the way down to see my final thoughts on contests. But generally, just keep trying different things, doing your research, and making sure you’re sticking to the flight theme.

For people who want it, here’s my breakdown on each series of contests that I’ve entered, and reasons why I think I won or lost.

Personal Analysis - Brightshine 2021-Brightshine 2023

I’m a very competitive person and more importantly, I love to compete. So the moment I found myself capable of making skins, festivals were on my radar. I studied what previous artists did, what techniques and designs seem to win the most. What skills did I need and what skins caught the judges' eyes? More importantly, what bases did I feel confident with and could perform the best on? As soon as I felt like I understood the contest, I entered Brightshine 2021 with about 2 weeks’ worth of art experience.

Then I proceeded to lose four contests in a row.

So, what happened?

Brightshine 2021 (loss)

Sometimes unearthing your old art is like watching an old video of yourself in your cringey teenager phase. But knowing why you lost is important in understanding how you can win (and what to absolutely not do again).

For Brightshine 2021, I submitted a Guard F design with two recolors. At the time I only had the skill to draw lanterns and filigree, so I went “that’s Light enough” and did exactly that. Although I would say my theme was (kind of) on point, it was my execution that was lacking:

Issue No. 1: Colors. In review of previous Light winners there’s a umber/gold palette or gold/sunlight palette that appears to be the meta. There have also been cases of red or purple winning even though they aren’t used in official Light items, and some rainbow entries. While one of my recolors followed this scheme, it fell short because–

Issue No. 2: Composition. Skin composition is the balance of elements and how well each element pulls their weight in a piece of art. In my Brightshine 2021 entry, most of the base was left bare. Artists like August are really good at skin comp where their entire piece looks tied together; mine was far from that.

Issue No. 3: Quality. If you compare my Brightshine 2021 submission to my 2023 one, you’ll see what I mean. My art style relies on rendering, or applying lighting and shadows, to bring out each element. Basically I need rendering in order to win. This isn’t necessarily a requirement for you; some artists do lineless, others do painterly, and others don’t render at all, but overall the art style should have a specific level of quality that rendering brought out in my art.

In short: wrong colors, bad lineart, skill issue, no skin comp - overall it was a piece of art not even its creator could love. (I tossed the psd in the recycling bin and hit delete. Except looking in the database now apparently I printed it, so now I have to live with the shame of its existence.)

There is one takeaway that I got. By the time the contest ended there were no other Guard F entries. I realized then that had my art been better, with the breed/pose’s lack of competition, I could’ve had a shot at winning the contest.

Thundercrack 2021 (loss)

Alright, 2021 Myth thinks, I’ve learned my lesson from Brightshine. The skin composition was not good. That means I should put more stuff on the base and I’m sure to win!

Have you ever just looked in the mirror and realized you, yes you, are the most punchable thing in the world?

In all fairness, the skin comp of my TCC entry did improve. Like Brightshine, I did a single design with two recolors on an unpopular breed. Improvements I made: additional elements to the skin aside from the one big element on the wing, and a color palette that matched the flight. Of course, I wished my theme of hivemind/code also matched the flight aesthetic, but just like my love life, the only thing my submission matched with was loss and disappointment.

Issue No. 1: Design. Upon reviewing past winners, very few featured fake apparel or clothing. As mentioned previously, staff do not appear to favor whiteout or body morph skins, and prefer elements that adhere to the dragon (like wings) or add to the dragon (like bones/feathers).

Issue No 2: Technology. For my entry, the circuit patterning on the wings did not take resizing well. I drew this on a 750x750 canvas and the resizing blended the many circuit lines into a single line. This isn’t a program issue. It was a lack of understanding of how resizing works.

Issue No 3: And we’re still here with my biggest problem: skill issue. Art is not a skill you learn in two months. I did learn to render, but not well enough. I wasn’t good enough. Yet.

Starfall 2021 (loss)

So… fun fact! During all of this I was writing my thesis. As in, I was writing my thesis after not writing my thesis for a year. It was stressful. I don’t have much to say about this contest because I did this skin as a meme for the sole reason that somewhere in my 3 am sleep deprived brain I thought “Emergency Portal-col” was hilarious.

I did not expect to win and I didn’t. Still, I did notice more and more that certain breeds just weren’t submitted for contests. Ridgeback F, I noticed, had anywhere from 0 to 1 submission for each contest while M pose generally had 0. Same for Nocturnes.

Riot of Rot 2021 (loss)

By this time, 2021 Myth had given up on the “one big element + some other accessories” idea. It hadn’t worked for Light or Lightning and it wasn’t going to work. So I thought, what if I just went for the accessory elements? My ROR skin featured the spider lily, smoke, and sparkles. I also started experimenting with dark gradients on the limbs of the dragon, which I’d noticed in winning fest entries.

Gradients and sparkles help with skin composition. Especially if you’re a newer artist who can’t pull off more complicated effects. Oftentimes a skin looks empty in certain parts, but adding elements to those parts would make things look messier. That’s where gradients/sparkles come in. However, I lost because:

Issue No 1: Composition again. While my elements tied together well, I had no main attraction other than the empty void that was the center of the Ridgeback wing. I essentially did a background scene and didn’t add a main character for it. This made me think that maybe my “one big element” skin comp idea was still worth a shot, but I needed a different take.

Issue No 2: Aaaand skill issue again.I was still bad at rendering, and sometimes skill is just why you lose. Not because you don’t have good ideas or because your execution was bad, but because you do not yet have the skills to defeat your competitors. You can do a really good looking skin, but if someone else in the contest did an even better looking skin on the breed/pose, then you’re not going to win.

Gala 2021 (win)

Losing four times in a row was pretty discouraging. But here’s another important element to skin contests: consistency. The frequency of your submissions should result in a win so long as you fulfill all of the other win conditions such as good composition, understanding of the theme, and the basic level of art skill required to win.

For the Gala, I realized that wings would be the best big element to put on a base while tying in all of the other elements. This is probably the most complicated skin I’d worked on at that time. But because I’d learned minimal rendering, because my skin composition was actually good, and there was no competition for Ridgeback F, I won. For the very first time.

Trickmurk 2021 - Starfall 2022 (6 wins 2 losses - 12 skin designs submitted total)

Here, I’d found my strategy. As long as I kept to the theme and made sure my skin comp and rendering was good, I would win. Especially because I had no competition. Again, breed variety is a huge issue in skin contests, because people - particularly the really skilled artists - are more likely to go for a breed that they like or is popular. As a newer artist, I was well aware that there was a 100% chance I’d lose if I tried to fight anyone for the same breed/pose. (And part of knowing the win conditions is also knowing artists you definitely are not winning against.)

3/6 of my wins during this time was F Ridgeback. The others were: F Coatl, which had no competition during Trickmurk, and F Nocturne, which had no competition during Wind and Arcane’s fests (but competed against my will to live because this is a terrible base to work on).

But relying on unpopular breed advantage was about as reliable as internet connection in a college dorm. 3/6 of my wins were ridgeback but that meant all of my losses were also ridgeback. On top of that, the number of Ridgeback submissions peaked at one point to 5-6. I was still winning, because I had the skill to beat my competitors. But I had to up my game. My skins had to be more elaborate, closer to the theme. I began submitting two designs per competition, which was… going to be a problem for me later.

The idea behind submitting two designs per competition is simple. Instead of just relying on one unpopular breed/pose to net you the win, now you have two shots at winning.

My goal that I’d made during this time was to either win 11 in a row or to win once for each holiday. This was to keep my motivation. Keep in mind I was also writing my thesis, so I really needed a goal to go towards, especially when I committed to doing two designs per contest.

(I defended my thesis successfully in May 2022 and graduated with high honors!)

ROR 2022 - Brightshine 2023 (7 wins 1 loss - 16 skin designs submitted total)

Here’s where I found another niche in the skin contests. Flight-breeds. These are breeds that belong to each element and surprisingly - they don’t actually get that many submissions. Seeing Starfall 2022’s skin turnout as an Arcanite was tough. When it came to reviewing Starfall 2022, anyone would’ve won as long as they submitted a good quality Fae skin that didn’t break the rules or stray too far from the theme and had a skin composition that the staff liked.

I decided to put my theory to the test with Earth, Ice, Wind, Water, and Nature. Are you surprised there were only three Snap F submissions for Earth, one Tun M for Ice, two SDM for Wind, and something like two Undertide F entries for Water? I was. Especially with Undertides because the breed had been released only five months ago. By noticing the flight-breed meta, and having the time, skill, and experience to make skins for those breeds that fit the criteria, I was able to win.

At this time I started straying away from my “one big element + smaller accessories” composition. My art had gotten better so I was able to expand my designs. Wavecrest 2023 was the biggest show of that, and I’m really proud of my entries for that contest. It was essentially a turning point in my art style… but it did take a lot more time and effort. From that point on, my skins were hitting 90+ layers and taking me at least two weeks to draw.

The last skin contest I entered with that art style was Brightshine 2023. By the time the contest ended, I was pretty sure winning would take a miracle or a relationship with god that I did not have. The competition for Imp M was difficult, and I was pitting my submission against artists who had far more experience and skill. I had some hope for my Ridge F entry, but again, relying on unpopular breed advantage is, well. Not reliable.

I lost. It was crushing, because not only did that mean I lost Brightshine three years in a row, Brightshine was the last contest I needed to win to fulfill either one of my goals: winning 11 in a row or win once for each elemental holiday. However, losses happen and it sucks, but it’s not the end of the world. I simply lost to a much better artist, and I am okay with that.

Final Thoughts

Heart-to-heart time.

I know some people become discouraged because they don’t think they have the skill, or they compare themselves to other artists. I felt discouraged for the same reason. After losing so many contests in 2021, I thought I would never improve. I would never be as good as artists that started long before me, or even some that started after me but learned so much faster.

I still think that’s true. I have a long way to go and I may never catch up to these other artists. But here’s the thing about art: it’s a skill that constantly evolves and you cannot see that evolution unless you keep trying. And you need to keep trying if you want to win, because you aren’t going to without reaching the right skill level.

The hardest truth about competitions is that you can’t expect to win just because you tried. If everyone could win just by participating – that contest isn’t worth winning. There are no stakes so there is no value. But when you put in a lot of effort and time, and you win? That win is something that will stay with you. That is a worthwhile win - because it was hard and because you lost so many times.

Sure, the staff could let everyone who enters win. Maybe winners should be judged solely on participation. Maybe that would make more people happy. But would you really be happy to win, knowing there’s no chance of losing? At that point, would being a festival contest winner mean anything?

In the end, a contest is supposed to be fun. Throw everything I’ve said out the window if that’s made contests un-fun for you. Most, MOST importantly, you should join the competition because you enjoy it. If you’re joining just to win, and you take losses very hard, and participation becomes a chore - then that is never going to be worth the toll on your mental health.

Take it from someone who took it too seriously. Drawing two skin designs monthly was taxing (remember it was taking me at least 2 weeks per design), and by Nature 2023 I had severe burnout. When Brightshine rolled around, I sat down for 11 hours to finish my Imp entry, because I knew I wouldn’t have time for art later. By the time I finished, I was running on about five hours of sleep and a very unhealthy attachment to caffeine.

Then, three days before Brightshine, I was diagnosed with tendonitis.

I started feeling discomfort in my arms/wrist since March, hence why I stopped releasing public skins. But this is effectively the worst arm related injury I’ve had, and while drawing is not the main cause, doing so for 11 hours straight didn’t help. My left arm has minor pain. My right arm is swollen and in a brace. This could’ve been avoided by taking breaks and doing exercises. But the lack of proper precaution led to injury. (And yes, I drew my Bogsneak TCC 2023 entry with a mouse for this reason. I could not use my tablet pen so… circle and line tool it was. But I had fun ^^)

I hope my analysis of the contests will be of some use to you. But please do not hurt yourself, mentally or physically, in competing. UMA artists make around 3kg per run of skin, so if you are entering contests for the prize, that’s not the best use of your time and energy. When it comes down to it, you are going to be doing free art for the site, and that is never worth injuring yourself for.

As a final note, thank you to the FR staff for allowing artists to participate in the site. My art experience is purely derived from skins and contests have encouraged me to improve myself. Thank you also to my friends who cheered me on along the way, the many wonderful artists who gave me tips on line weight, coloring, and rendering. And of course, many thanks to August for being the best cheerleader I could have. I would not have made it to Brightshine without him as a competitor and fellow artist.

(However nothing you do will make me like Gaolers and that is a hill I will die on.)

Happy almost-Flameforger’s everyone! Here’s to the next fest cycle.

#flightrising #flight rising #flight rising skins #fr skins and accents #fr fest #skins and accents

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only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are · 3 months ago

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Redwood Psychiatric Institute - Part 6

MASTERLIST - PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4 - PART 5

CWs: THIS IS A HEAVY ONE PLEASE READ THESE AND PROCEED WITH CAUTION - medical gaslighting, ECT mentions, disordered eating, forced NG tube (nasogastric) intubation, description of forced intubation, IV cannula, forced drugging

"I know you're lying to me." James ground out.

"James, you are ill. You are schizophrenic, and you have trouble telling reality from hallucination. I am your doctor, and I know what is best for you. And right now, what's best is for you to continue your treatments here."

"No, no, none of this is can be real, I'm - my name isn't James, it's- it's-" James stuttered. His hand trembled in the straight jacket he had been restrained in. "Why, why can't I remember?" His unruly dark hair obscured his wide eyes, pupils dilated from the medications.

"You're making things worse for yourself, James. Take a deep breath, and take some more medications. It'll make you feel much better." Doctor Wilson held out a wax paper cup filled with pills.

James shook his head as he backed into the padded wall of his room. "No, get them away from me. AWAY!" He began to scream, and realising he was trapped there rendered his flight instinct inert, he began to rock back and forth on his heels in a desperate attempt to soothe himself.

"James. Calm down. You are being dramatic. You need to take a deep breath."

James began to attempt to tear himself free from the straight jacket to no avail, letting out a frustrated animalistic cry.

"Why-"

"You can take a nice long nap and calm down." Doctor Wilson put the cup down, realising James wasn't going to let himself be soothed easily. The doctor instead pulled a hypodermic syringe out, and the boy began to scream.

"Can I have some assistance?" He called to the orderlies standing outside the cell. They rushed in, effortlessly pinning James to the floor. The orderlies pulled James' pants down to allow the Doctor access to his patient's bottom. Doctor Wilson swiftly jabbed the hypodermic into the muscle, earning him an indignant cry.

"No.. no.." James stuttered, as they pulled away from him. He attempted to pull himself to his feet, but tripped over himself, the drug already leaving him unsteady and out of it.

"Sh, my boy." Doctor Wilson soothed, helping his patient onto the bed. "You can rest now."

James eyelids, with his pupils blown wide, slowly drifted shut as he slumped over on the bed.

----

When James awoke, he decided to make a plan. He didn't trust Doctor Wilson anymore. There were gaps in his memory, and things that just didn't make sense.

And he was sure that his name wasn't really James - but what was it then?

He started by figuring out how to stop his meds. The nurses would check that he had taken them. He started crushing one or two in the side of his jaw, and swallowing the rest. The crushed pills were small enough that they weren't super noticeable, and as long as the nurses didn't see whole pills leftover. Once they left, he'd spit out the crushed tablets. Eliminating one or two of the medications certainly help to clear up his fatigue and drowsiness, but he had other symptoms instead - headaches, fevers, sore eyes. He just had to deal with it. He needed to stop the medication more.

Then, he stopped eating. Just in case the food was also drugged. But he also did it as a protest. He wanted to show Doctor Wilson that he was still in control. It started with a sausage here, some oatmeal there. He would just cut down gradually, and one one would notice until it was too late.

----

"For the last time James, eat up." The orderly, Dan, sighed as the boy pushed his tray away from him.

"'Mm not hungry." James muttered.

"You're being stubborn. You haven't eaten in 4 days. Eat up, or I'll have no choice but to call Doctor Wilson."

James didn't look up. "Don't care."

"Fine. I give up." The orderly picked up the walkie talkie hanging from his white scrubs. "Doctor Wilson, James is refusing to eat again and he's refusing meds."

"Take him to Treatment Room 2. I'll meet you there." The Doctor commanded.

The burly orderly bent down and scooped up James in one arm.

"Dan, please, please don't do this!" James began to sob.

He screamed and kicked, but he was a fairly scrawny young man, and with the lack of food, he was no match for the orderly, who dragged him down the hall with ease.

"Here." The orderly tapped his keycard on the door reader, and pushed the door open, revealing an exam table reminiscent of a dentist's chair. He place James onto the table, and began to strap him using the standard medical restraints, straps at his forehead, wrists, chest, hips, legs and ankles.

"Let me go!!" James screamed, fighting against the restraints with all the strength he had left. "You can't do this!!"

"I'm sorry buddy. It's for your own good." The orderly patted his forehead.

Doctor Wilson stepped into the room and locked eyes with James. Dan immediately backed away, planting himself in the corner of the room.

To the doctor, Jamess looked absolutely feral, his eyes red raw from crying and sleep deprivation, his hair greasy and unkempt, and his frame thin and wiry.

"Oh James, I was so hoping it wouldn't come to this." Doctor Wilson tutted, as he walked up the exam chair. He tilted James' chin, examining the boy's face closer. "You're sneaking off your meds, too." He said - a statement, not a question. "You had been doing so well.. All that progress we've achieved. Gone."

Doctor Wilson sighed, then nodded to the orderly, who began to set up a cart with medical tools and devices. Both men snapped on nitrile gloves and then pulled on medical masks.

"What are you doing?" James asked in a high-pitched tone, clearly frightened.

"Getting you back to health, my boy." Doctor Wilson smiled sadly behind the mask. "Clearly you can't be trusted to do the right thing for yourself."

Dan unpackaged a sterile butterfly needle, which he passed to the Doctor. The orderly wiped down James' elbow with an alcohol wipe, then tied a rubber band above the area. Doctor Wilson brought the needle to James' vein, and the boy whimpered.

"Relax James, you're in good hands." Doctor Wilson hushed, before sliding the needle into the vein.

It smarted, and James winced, looking away as a drop of blood bubbled up from the wound. The Doctor removed the needle and replaced it with tubing, setting up an IV which he hooked to a bag of solution on a stand. James looked to the bag as the solution began to drip through the tubing into his vein.

"What's in there?" He asked weakly.

The Doctor ignored him, and instead began to pull more tubing out from packaging. He held it up and measured it in front of James' face, who squirmed uncomfortably against the strap across his forehead. The Doctor then covered the tip in some kind of gel, held the tube under James' left nostril, and before he could react, the tube was being shoved up his nostril.

Shocked, James began to try to wrest his head away, but the restraints held tight, even as the tube slid further and further up his nose, down the back of his throat, and further, further down. James couldn't help but cough and gag on the tubing, the foreign sensation awfully unwelcome in his system. Even when he thought it couldn't possibly go any further, it did. Finally, finally, it was over. He drew in choked, panicked breaths through his mouth as his body was wracked with silent gasping sobs.

"All done." Doctor Wilson said, his voice void of any care or emotion for his patient. The orderly stepped up and helped the doctor tape the other end of the tube against James' cheek, then attached the tubing to a container sitting on the IV pole, which was filled with an odd liquid. Before long, the liquid began to trickle through the tube and down his nostril. He shuddered at the horrible sensation of the cold liquid sliding down the tube, straight into his stomach.

Doctor Wilson then adjusted the settings on the IV. "Get some sleep. You'll need it."

The Doctor left. Dan stayed for a moment, making sure the Doctor was out of sight before he bent down to whisper in James' ear. "I'm sorry it had to come to that. But you left me with no choice.." He wiped a tear from James' cheek. "Get your rest while you can."

Dan stood, and with a sad sigh, shut the door behind him as he left the room.

----

James was left in silence. He stared up at the cieling, the odd tear slipping down his cheek, James felt his head becoming cloudy. His limbs felt light, as though they weren't tethered to his body anymore. He was floating. His eyelids however, were heavy as lead. The longer he stared, the harder it was to stay awake, and before long, his consciousness faded and he slipped into darkness.

"How are you feeling, James?"Doctor Wilson greeted as he stepped into the room.

James lifted his head slowly to look up. His limbs felt less sluggish than they had several days ago, but the feeding tube had begun to disperse the liquid down his throat and his stomach churned at the uncomfortable sensation. James mumbled incoherently, a single tear slid down his cheek.

Doctor Wilson ran a hand through James's hair, sighing softly. "Oh, James. This is what happens when you don't behave. We are doing what is best for you. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you."

----

James sat in Doctor Wilson's office, his eyes spaced out and staring distantly into the wall.

"James." Everything was fuzzy, blurry. His head pounded. And something was slipping down his chin. Was that-

"Wipe that off his face, please."

An orderly bent into his face, and wiped his chin, then stood up. James didn't even twitch.

"James. Are you with us?"

"Huh?" James finally responded, though there was no physical response.

"You're feeling better, aren't you? No delusions?" Doctor Wilson asked.

Taglist:

"Iambetter..." James slurred.

"Good."

------

PREVIOUS - NEXT

Taglist: @jazatronasmr @onthishamsterwheel @bumpthumpwhump @bloodsweatandpotato @whatiswhump @jancameforthewhump @dream-whump @ratking-whump @inkstainsonmyhands12 @halsteadshaw13 @sparrowsage @sowhumpful @whatwhumpcomments @caspersdelusion @everythingsscary

#whump community #whumpblr #medical whump #noncon drugging #whump fics #pyschiatric hospital whump #asylum whump #medcore #forced psychiatric treatment whump #forced medical care #forced drugging #forced sedation whump #redwood psychiatric #forced intubation whump #eating disoder trigger warning #disordered eating mention #nasogastric tube whump #whump

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jjungkookislife · 1 year ago

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Quarterly Fic Rec List 2023 #4

Hello! This is the last list of 2023! These are the wonderful fics I ended my year with! I hope you enjoy them! If anyone would like to be removed from this list; please let me know! As always each of these fics has its own content warnings, and most, if not all are 18+ so Minors Do Not Interact!

Seokjin

daydream @joonie-beanie

summary: Your literature professor has a bit of a…gift. A gift that let’s him see other peoples thoughts when he wants to. And despite the fact that he warns his class openly about this gift, one day you forget, and find yourself in a bit of pickle when Kim Seokjin reads your mind, and finds you imagining some not so school appropriate scenarios…involving him.

pink panther @gimmesumsuga

summary: The one where your boss, Kim Seokjin, tries to show you how beautiful you are

9 months to fall in love @floralseokjin

summary: It seems like everyone around you is either already in love, or in the process of falling, and while normally you couldn’t give a damn, finding out the co-worker you’ve had a teensy crush on is dating someone else at the office seems to sucker punch you right in the gut. It’s stupid, and you’re irritated at yourself, but you can’t seem to shake out of the funk you’ve fallen face first in. Feeling lonely and heartsore, and mad for no reason, during drinks with your best friend you spot a man at the bar. Tequila confident, you make your way over to the stranger, and successfully one thing leads to another. The next morning you leave before he’s woken up, feeling satisfied in one way, but still as discontented as ever. Telling yourself it was an inebriated mistake, you quickly try to forget about it. Only, three weeks later that night comes back to haunt you – in a very unescapable way…

dream come true @sugaurora

summary: Since your brother had warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to safely fantasize about him in your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re also not about to complain.

whole @yoongiphoria

Yoongi

can't afford love @dollfaceksj

summary: Your childhood dream of having 2 children in a big house with a blooming marriage by this point in time has been eliminated the moment divorce came knocking at your door. With only one child and finding yourself back at square one, you ask your ex-husband—Min Yoongi—if he’d be down to fulfill 1 of these 3 things on your childhood’s bucket-list. And no, it’s not giving you a big house.

u suck !! @kithtaehyung

summary: Jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume.

three tangerines ^

summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

broken pt. 1 ^

summary: chilling conversations prolong things even further… until everything goes to hell.

ghostface killers @gimmethatagustd

summary: You’ve had your eyes set on Yoongi for as long as you can remember. What you didn’t know is that he’s had his eyes on you, too.

red & white @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: you and yoongi have something to share this holiday

Hoseok

spookie coochie @gimmethatagustd

summary: The only monster Hoseok wishes you were interested in finding this Halloween season is his monster c–

drink champagne in my airplane @bangtanintotheroom

summary: Your friend Hoseok decided to use his excessive wealth for good and take the both of you on a much-needed vacation. The flight was meant to be relaxing until he broke out one of his most expensive bottles of champagne.

a holly, jolly crisis @kpopfanfictrash

summary: At this time last year, you thought you had it all. A kick-ass screenwriting job for the hottest TV show in LA, an actor boyfriend whose career was taking off and an affordable apartment with not one, but two bathrooms. Fast-forward to now and you’re single, soon-to-be jobless and searching for a way to scrape together January rent. Everything seems to be falling apart, which was why you told your family you weren’t coming home for the holidays. Enter your little sister, Sara, who recently became engaged to her boyfriend, Yoongi and needs you home to celebrate. The biggest problem? Returning home means you’ll be forced to face everything and everyone you left behind, including Yoongi’s best man – and your ex-best friend, Hoseok.

12 lays of christmas @minisugakoobies

summary: Your brother’s best friend Hoseok really likes your cookies

it's a promise @sahmfanficbts

arranged marriage au

Namjoon

close, closer, closest @augustbutwinter

summary: you know your soulmate is close, but you haven’t met them yet. every day your counter goes up when you pass that one station. until one day it doesn’t.

make an effort @7ndipity

summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

a word from our sponsors @ugh-yoongi

summary: you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it.

Jimin

cloud nine @suga-kookiemonster

summary: “he’s here again,” viv whispers. “you know who. the hot guy who’s totally into you.” and he is hot--devastatingly hot enough that you know he can’t actually be into you, because the universe simply doesn’t work that way. that still doesn’t stop your heart from pounding when he smiles at you from across the room.

menace @eoieopda

summary: Far and away the worst of your brother’s friends, you added Park Jimin’s presence in your life to the long list of grievances you held against Seokjin. Too bad you can’t keep your hands off him.

crescent bound @parkhabits

summary: One night you’re having the best hookup of your life and the next you’re being told that the little mark on your neck is more than just a hickey and that Park Jimin was more than you expected too.

the dark side of the moon @dovechim

summary: falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes.

a remedy for mondays ^

summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

heavy petting @kittae

summary: Your boyfriend is not just a cat hybrid, he’s also very needy! When you come home from work and you expect him to be all over you, you’re fairly disappointed to find he prefers a nap over some well-deserved quality time. You’ll make sure to pay him back for that.

the devil in his details @johobi

summary: Evil comes in many forms. In this instance, it’s a 5′8″ pretty-boy with an even prettier dick. And you’re the form you want him to come in.

me, you, and this thing we have between us @boymeetsweevil

summary: You’re pregnant and jimin is…happy about it

devil's advocate @7cypher

summary: You had met the devil on a hot summer day. He had shown up in a red polo, red cap, and white sneakers on his feet. That day, you had invited your devil into your home and he hasn’t left since.

no strings @kpopfanfictrash

summary: It started off as such a simple question. How to know if you’re bad in bed? Of course when you asked, you didn’t imagine Jimin would actually answer.

the ten days of ex-mas @kpopfanfictrash

summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling. Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Taehyung

midnight @sailoryooons

summary: Taehyung loves being your prince charming, even if it means trying to find where you’ve wandered off to in the middle of a Halloween party without your shoes.

the holi-date @kpopfanfictrash

summary: When your ex-boyfriend becomes engaged to his new girlfriend at your annual Holiday party, you admittedly are not in the best place. Which explains why you down six shots of alcohol, enthusiastically drop it low on the dance floor and – oh, yeah – tell everyone you are also dating someone. The only problem? You are obviously not. Good thing your neighbor happens to be cute and in need of a ride to work every morning.

of lace and lust @hobidreams

summary: friendship rule number one: don’t imagine how amazing your best friend’s cock would feel inside you. except that’s all you can think about after accidentally discovering taehyung’s kink for panties. specifically, the lacy ones you’re so fond of wearing.

hush @suga-kookiemonster

summary: four seats, five bodies. “careful, sweetheart,” he breathes into the shell of your ear, hands tightening over your waist in warning. you lick your lips, pausing just long enough to ponder: what if you don’t want to be careful?

rotten angelcake @inkedtae

summary: she’s as sweet as angelcake; he likes her honeyed rotten. this is a series following the complicated relationship between a sugar baby, sugar daddy and his corruption kink.

sausade @kimvvantae

summary: no one is born to be alone and no one can be complete in oneself - that’s why, in this world, every person has a pair, someone that complements their soul in every aspect. you, however, are an exception to the rule, for the mark on your wrist indicates that your pair has passed away way before you were born.

kinda hot @kimnjss

summary: you’ve always been cute, soft, tiny in taehyung’s eyes. but that’s changing one night when you’re accidentally sending him a naughty picture. forcing him to realize, maybe his best friend is kinda… hot?

Jungkook

jungkook drabble @euphoricfilter

summary: obsessed gf m/c and equally as obsessed boyfriend jungkook. he’s the light of her life, and she’s the reason he smiles

blessed with a curse @sweetestofchaos

summary: When your company throws a mandatory Halloween party, you aren’t thrilled. You’re even less thrilled when a delusional coworker ruins the party and places a curse on everyone because her crush, the resident werewolf, Jeon Jungkook, rejected them.

seasons don't fear the reaper @augustbutwinter

summary: life is short, they say. one day everyone meets their death, they say. how often can you meet yours before he takes you with him?

because i love you ch. 13 @readyplayerhobi

summary: According to society, Jeon Jungkook should not be with you. He should be with a younger, hotter and thinner girl instead of wasting his time on you. It’s a good thing Jungkook doesn’t care what society thinks then.

a holiday snowdown @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The Inn on the Hill is in trouble. Or that's what your boss, Namjoon, says during the last-minute All Staff holiday meeting he calls. You need money, and you need money fast, or his parents are planning to sell the resort. When no one can think of an easy solution, Namjoon proposes his parents' idea: a weeklong social media blitz with a celebrity guest. The celebrity? None other than Jungkook Jeon himself: two-time Olympic gold medalist, world-class snowboarder and the nation's sweetheart. What's the problem? You happen to have met Jungkook Jeon before, and sincerely hoped you'd never see him again.

all grown up @btsgotjams27

summary: A family reunion brings back the young boy you grew up with. Though he wasn’t the doe-eyed boy you once knew, he stood in front of you all grown up.

this is us ^

summary: you start to fall hard for jungkook.

OT7/Multiple Members

carnival of terror ch. 2 @theharrowing

summary: The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

the gentlemen @honeymoonjin

summary: Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

of storms and vampires @wishesunderthestars

summary: During the worst storm you have witnessed in your life, a bat crashes on your window. When you bring it inside your cottage to take care of it, you realize it isn’t simply a bat but a baby vampire. Your past has come back to haunt you because Jungkook’s sire is no one else but Min Yoongi, who you had left behind when you disappeared five years ago.

oh, little red @jincherie

summary: You knew they warned you about that path for a reason, you knew you shouldn’t take it as a shortcut. You knew, but you were running late, and you did it anyway. Oh, little red, just what have you gotten yourself into?

Ateez

Seonghwa

let me keep you warm @sweetestofchaos 💜

summary: “Are you cold?” “A little bit but I’ll be okay.” “Come here, let’s get you all warmed up.”

#jjungkookislife fic rec list #jjungkookislife fic rec masterlist #jjungkookislife fic recs

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writer-in-theory · 1 year ago

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you're gonna go far, love — spencer reid.

“I’ve been ready for you to come home for so long that I didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone.” —Noah Kahan (Orange Juice)

Summary: After Spencer relapses, he takes the first flight out of Virginia with no plan other than to get a fresh start. Or, my take on where he was for Evolution. Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gn!Reader (not the focus, but it's there) Category: Hurt/Comfort WC: 2k Content Warnings: Discussions of relapse, Mentions of alcohol, Slight spoiler for the ending of Evolution S1 (despite the fact I still haven't finished it myself) Notes: This is for the New Beginnings challenge hosted by @imagining-in-the-margins and based on a prompt from @foxy-eva , so thank you so much to you lovely people. This fic comes 2 years after my last CM fic, and a few months since I've written anything at all, so thank you for the inspiration 💜

Spencer booked the first flight out of Virginia five days after it happened.

The person at the counter may have said the destination, but it floated straight past his ears and was carried far away. Within hours, everything he’d spent the past two decades building was left thirty thousand feet below him.

Emily would be hurt. Everyone would be, as each of them heard the news as they one-by-one came into the office tomorrow. But it would be Emily, who was the first to notice the cracks in his once carefully crafted facade all those years ago, who would feel the most betrayed by his sudden escape.

You should’ve at least said goodbye.

It was what Spencer had been most upset by when Emily had faked her death. After everything they’d been through together, after all of the joy they brought into each others’ incredibly stressful lives, all Spencer had needed was the chance to say goodbye and know that she was out there, somewhere, happy.

Hopefully, she’d understand why he had to leave now, though.

Everyone in the BAU had figured out by now that the Spencer Reid who walked out of prison was not the same as the one who’d first stepped into it. Some piece of him—and even now, he wasn’t sure how large that piece was—had been laid bare and morphed beyond even his own recognition. The loss of that part of him ached in the way that losing a loved one did, that sharp stabbing sort of ache that would appear so suddenly that he didn’t know how to handle it.

There was no way to explain it to the rest of the team, though, no matter how supportive they tried to be. The fact was that none of them had ever nor would ever go through what he exactly had, and for not the first time in his life, Spencer began to feel like a rip current was sweeping him away from the steadiness of shore.

It wasn’t until he was far enough away from shore that he couldn’t see the relief of the sands that his mind recalled that he’d been prescribed painkillers several months prior.

It wasn’t the same as what Tobias Hankel had given him so many years ago, nor was it the alternatives he’d managed to find in the months after, but it was devastatingly similar enough that he’d tried to convince the emergency room doctor not to order it in the first place. ‘Pick it up anyway, just in case. No one can recover from a gunshot wound without pain relief.’

He’d almost flushed the amber bottle’s contents the day he’d gotten them, but the bone-deep feeling that had eased with time but never truly gone away kept him from fully eliminating that option from his life. Why should one thing that had happened to him years ago deny him proper pain relief now, should he need it? So they’d sat untouched, locked away in his gun safe for months.

Until five days ago.

After well over a decade in recovery, Spencer knew this was always a possibility. He’d seen friends go through the same thing and had been there to support them in whatever ways he could because no matter how many times it happened the initial feelings of shock, shame, and overbearing grief could be just as overwhelming as the first.

A day after, when he’d woken up and realized just what had occurred, Spencer had walked himself to the nearest NA meeting. Like he was on auto-pilot, he moved through every piece of advice he had gathered through the years—the stories of success and the stories of forced learning serving as guides to him. It wasn’t the first time Spencer had relapsed (a word that still struck fear in him to even think about), nor would it likely be the last time he was forced to confront this part of his past.

Still, this was the first time Spencer walked out of the building, packed a bag, and made a silent escape from the city he called home. There was something different about this time, though he had no idea where to even begin considering the specifics of why.

He ended up in Cincinnati, Ohio.

In all the years he’d been with the BAU, they’d never once been called there. It was like every other city Spencer had been in in many ways—the buildings towering above him as he walked, the river that bordered the city mirroring the home he’d just left, even down to the FBI headquarters that was quiet now in the middle of the night. Still, he couldn’t help but feel as though it were completely separate from everything he’d known before, because the melancholy Spencer had been sitting in for the last five days had suddenly turned comforting amongst the atmosphere of the city.

He ended up in a bar, of all places. It was the kind that only served nonalcoholic drinks, the kind of place where people like him could sit without feeling outside of the norm. Music was playing softly in the background, and though it was busy there was only a gentle rumble of conversation in the room.

“You’re staring at that glass like it’ll kill you. It’s safe, Scout’s honor.” The teasing voice surprised Spencer out of the careful contemplation he’d fallen into. It came from the bartender, who was busying themselves with wiping down a few glasses, stood just on the other side of the bar in front of him.

“You know, that only works if you were actually a scout,” Spencer returned, though raised the glass to his lips after. It was sweet—a little too sweet by his standards, though it was a comfort now after the week he’d had.

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” the bartender said back. They looked comfortable here, like this sober bar were an extension of their own home. At one time, the BAU office had been the same for him. “You look like you could use a friendly face, and that just happens to be my favorite part of the job.”

“Part of the job…?”

“Oh you know, bartenders are the therapists for the lonely, or something like that.” They were comfortable, and more open to an effective stranger than Spencer ever thought possible. It was refreshing in a way, to be able to talk with them without having to worry about what case information he could get out of them. It wasn’t often, anymore, that he could relax and talk to someone just to talk to them. “What brings you to the Queen City?”

“I moved here,” Spencer answered automatically, looking down sheepishly at his glass before adding, “today, actually.”

“Oh, congrats then. New job?”

“More like a new start.”

It was quiet for only a moment before the bartender asked in a softer voice, “How long had it been?”

Spencer almost asked them what they meant, until he met their gaze. They had their full attention on him now, glasses left abandoned on the inner part of the bar. They’d been kind from the start, but the look they gave him now was the sort of pure understanding that made Spencer realize all at once what they were referring to.

“How did you know?”

The bartender sighed, though there was no sadness to it at all. They pulled something from their pocket, sliding it gently across the bar so Spencer could see. A metallic chip was place between them, silver on the outside and filled in with a green-blue color and a “V” engraved in the middle of it. It was different from the ones he’d used, but he recognized the meaning of it all the same.

“I opened this place because the day I relapsed, five years ago now, I’d had nowhere to go after. There wasn’t anywhere people like us could go and relax without having to answer the tough questions, like why I drank orange juice instead of ‘what all the other adults were drinking’. It seemed silly at the time, but I think I was just looking for somewhere I could feel normal.”

“My family were the ones who helped me get sober, and sometimes they still forget and will ask me why I’m not drinking.” Spencer returned the sentiment with a light laugh. He loved everyone in the BAU, and even though it had only been a few days he already missed them terribly, but it was nice to have someone there who understood what he was feeling, what he was going through now.

“Exactly!” The bartender said, following Spencer’s lead and letting out a laugh of their own. “Though I can’t say I ever moved to a new city because of it.”

“It was the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done,” Spencer admitted. “I…really needed a fresh start. I needed somewhere noone knew who I was, somewhere I could get a completely different job and…I don’t know, figure out who I am.”

The bartender nodded. “Sounds about right. This family you left behind, are you gonna go back to them?”

“Eventually. We’ve worked together for so many years. I spent more time with them than I’ve actually ever spent alone, and I think I just need…”

“Something new,” the bartender finished, “I’m starting to catch on. What d’you think you’ll do?”

“I’ve always loved teaching. Maybe that?”

“You know, I have some friends who work at UC. Depending on what you wanted to teach, I could see if they could get you an interview.”

“Just like that?” Spencer asked, wondering only briefly if there was going to be a catch somewhere down the line.

The bartender shrugged. “Why not? I never up and moved cities, but I’m no stranger to new beginnings.”

“I wouldn’t recommend moving cities without thinking it through,” Spencer laughed then. “I have no plan for what comes next.”

“Do you have somewhere to stay, at least?”

Spencer only winced, which he was sure was answer enough for them. He was expecting some kind of sympathetic response, but he never expected the bartender to shrug again and say, “Well, how about I be a little impulsive too. I’ve been looking for a new roommate, why don’t you stay tonight and see how it goes?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure. You seem decent enough not to be some secret axe-murderer or something.”

Oh, the irony.

Spencer didn’t really know this person except for the limited conversation they’d had so far. It would’ve been safer, and probably smarter, for him to just find a hotel room for the night and come up with a plan later. But something was telling him that he should agree, that there was something more to this person that he wanted to get to know.

So not for the first time that day, Spencer trusted his gut and nodded. “Okay, let’s try it.”

It wasn’t a fix for everything. The changes would come slowly, so slowly that sometimes Spencer himself wouldn’t even notice them happening. It would take time to get to a place where Spencer felt okay again, and a large help in that ended up being his new roommate who seemed to just get him in more ways than one. As time went by, Cincinnati truly began to feel like home.

And two years after he’d left, when Spencer turned on the news and saw the BAU standing before a large crowd as they announced they’d finally caught the serial killer behind the shipping container murders, he finally felt the string tugging him back in the direction of Quantico.

His home was there in Cincinnati, with the person who’d become a friend and even more in the last two years and the professor job that he came to love, but Spencer knew—beyond a shadow of a doubt—that it was time to see his family again, too.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst

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tenebrius-excellium · 9 days ago

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I was just looking at your reverse Httyd AU, and I LOVE IT!!! I have a few questions:

Would Toothless still be named toothless, despite by the whole “biting off hiccup’s leg” thing?

How would Stoic find out he was alive?

Will Stoic ever find hiccup?

Does hiccup stay on Berk forever or eventually take off with Toothless?

What happens to the red death? Do the raids continue?

What’s the general conflict?

I seriously adore this take on Httyd, and I’d love to hear more about it!

Dude you assume I have thought this out??? T_T hahahaaha

No anyway hiiiii and thank you so much for these questions!!! They are fantastic! So the general idea was just that Hiccup and Toothless would switch injuries during the first movie (Hiccup loses his leg at the start, Toothless his tail at the end) and I haven't had the time to really dive into how that would change the entire dynamic of the film. Your questions are a great way to explore that, I believe, so let's get into it!?

1. Yeah Toothless would still be named Toothless. I'd like it to remain sort of ambiguous how Hiccup lost the leg - we don't know whether Toothless ripped it off or if it happened through some other traumatic force, like a fall, or if it was crushed by a rock. All I know is that Hiccup and Toothless VIOLENTLY collide in the woods. And you know the number that Toothless' killing blasts can do on a landscape. I assume the same indirect fault level that Hiccup had with Toothless' tail - Toothless wanted to eliminate the threat and thought he killed his enemy, or at least he scared Hiccup off enough to never come back, if he survived... only to discover that yes, the boy did in fact survive, with a heavy injury that will still end him if left untreated, and Toothless must come to terms with his role in the pain and suffering he caused. Hiccup must move from the role of a direct combat enemy to a wounded kid who needs support. Hiccup will need a fire to cauterize his leg, and to keep warm since I imagine there is a lot of rain on Berk. That will be Toothless' first chance to offer some help. But to approach Hiccup, he must drop his weapons first (like Hiccup had to drop his knife) and one of the things the Night Fury can do to show that he is not trying to be a threat anymore is to retract his teeth.

2. + 3. + 4. + 5. Yeah Stoick would find out that his son is alive. I'm not yet sure if Hiccup stays in the cove the entire time. I don't believe he would. Let's say he stays there for the duration that there are edible fish in the cove's little pond. But he can't climb out of the hole by himself, and he'll run out of food down there. So it's up to Toothless to help him move. Toothless might bring him fish from the sea at first, but it'll become too dangerous to openly fly around the island of Berk without being spotted by human sentries. So it will be Toothless who, seeing Hiccup's desire to leave, will grab him one day and move him to a remote cliff or something that's closer to the ocean, so he can catch fish and feed Hiccup there. This is where their friendship will blossom - Hiccup will learn to train Terrible Terrors, and Toothless and him will develop a closer physical bond while Hiccup heals. Toothless can't return Hiccup to the village himself, else he will be killed. Hiccup understands that, but he still thinks about how he can regain mobility and go back. He'll build a prosthetic leg for himself, tying it with straps of his clothing, and one day, while he is chilling on Toothless' back, Toothless will just walk off the cliff and show Hiccup the joys of flight.

Without Berk's resources, it will take Hiccup longer to master staying on Toothless' back. But eventually, he'll learn about the patterns of the dragon raids. Returning to the cove to perhaps grab something that he left behind there, Astrid will find him. The romantic flight and the discovery of the dragons' nest follow. Astrid promises not to give Toothcup's location away. Given that it's HER who won at dragon training in Hiccup's absence though, she is now expected to kill the Monstrous Nightmare in the kill ring finale. And knowing what she knows, she can't go through with it, prompting the discovery of Hiccup and Toothless. Toothless gives himself up willingly so that Hiccup can return home.

After that, the movie is basically "back to normal": Stoick uses Toothless to lead him to the dragon nest, Hiccup follows with the gang and they take down the Red Death. Toothless assumes the main part, since he is not limited by his tail. He can protect Hiccup better and outsmart the Red Death. After the fall, it's Hiccup who first gains consciousness before Toothless, and insists on taking him back to Berk so he can build him a prosthetic tail. Dragons come to live on Berk, and it's the same happy ending overall.

6. The general conflict would be slightly different having Hiccup's and Toothless' roles reversed. Some of the main differences are:

Toothless isn't part of a community in the way Hiccup is. Remember how no other dragon came to look for tailless Toothless. Toothless was abandoned because he was a lone cat, whereas Stoick would launch multiple search parties for Hiccup. So that would definitely create a different dynamic for the story.

It would be difficult to write this as a story where Toothless doesn't create the impression of keeping Hiccup "captive". There needs to be an immediate attempt to return Hiccup to the village but either Hiccup is still too sick to travel or it'll be too dangerous for Toothless, so it has to be impossible for a time. A quick Google search reveals that a below-the-knee amputation takes at least a month or two to heal. Prior to that, Hiccup cannot possibly think to put weight on a home-made prosthetic. So it'll take him an entire summer to learn how to walk again, just like it took several weeks for Toothcup to perfect their flying. Toothless isn't as physically integral to Hiccup's recovery as Hiccup was to the dragon's... Hiccup will build his own walking aid, and Toothless will "only" be there to provide food, shelter, and comfort. But on the other hand, this will give a better opportunity to gain some fascinating insight into the social order of dragons, as Hiccup will only be interacting with animals for a time.

It would be Toothless taking responsibility for the raids originating from his own nest. In the og movie, it's Hiccup who calls his father out for "killing thousands of them", and it's Stoick who sails out to end the conflict once and for all. In the reversed version, Toothless would have to decide to confront his own for "killing hundreds of them" and defeat the unrepentant and greedy dragon queen.

It would be harder to facilitate Hiccup's "discovery" without laying the blame on Astrid specifically. Perhaps Toothless finally brings Hiccup home after all, knowing fully well that he is walking into a death trap for himself.

The other themes, like of interspecies prejudices and unrelenting friendship betwee unlikely characters, could stay the same.

So, this isn't a hard outline, and there are lots of other ways that this idea can be played. If anyone feels inspired or has a better idea, PLEASE SHARE IT WITH ME; I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR ABOUT IT.

I wanna make sure that this stays a movie that feels as much like og Httyd without losing any of the beautiful message. This is not an AU where Hiccup leaves indefinitely or becomes a dragon hermit like Valka... it's not supposed to be about becoming a hero or about revenge or about proving someone wrong, but about dragons and humans overcoming their differences. It's not the vigilante AU and not Damsel (2024) with Millie Bobbie Brown. The attempt is to tell the exact same Httyd story with the same morals, but reversed roles. Since Hiccup and Toothless have different traits and personalities though, it's interesting to think about what could replace what.

Feel free to hit me up with more ideas or headcanons, seriously.

Thank you for the ask!

Cheers

Reddie

#httyd #httyd au #reverse httyd au #wherethekitethought #wherethekiteflies #ask #asks #httyd fandom #theratlivinginyourcouchcushions #hiccup #toothless #toothcup

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theengineerspost · 12 days ago

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8 Different Types of Helicopters and Their Uses

1. Single Rotor Helicopter:

A single-rotor helicopter has one main rotor for lift and thrust and a smaller tail rotor for counteracting torque. It is the most common design, known for simplicity and efficiency in most flight conditions. Examples include the Bell 206 and Robinson R44.

2. Tandem Rotor Helicopter:

Tandem rotor helicopters have two main rotors mounted at opposite fuselage ends, rotating in opposite directions to counteract torque. This design allows for a higher payload capacity. Examples include the CH-47 Chinook.

3. Coaxial Helicopter:

Coaxial helicopters have two main rotors mounted on the same axis but rotating in opposite directions. This eliminates the need for a tail rotor and improves stability, efficiency, and maneuverability. The Kamov Ka-52 is a well-known example.

4. Compound Helicopter:

Compound helicopters combine rotor systems with other propulsion methods, such as fixed wings or auxiliary propellers, to improve speed and efficiency. Examples include the Sikorsky X2 and Eurocopter X3.

5. Tilt Rotor Helicopter:

Tiltrotor aircraft can transition between vertical lift (like a helicopter) and forward flight (like an airplane) by tilting their rotors. They are faster and more versatile. The V-22 Osprey is a prominent example.

6. Intermeshing Rotor Helicopter:

These helicopters have two rotors that intermesh at an angle, eliminating the need for a tail rotor and providing excellent lift. The Kaman K-MAX is a key example.

7. Electric Helicopter:

Electric helicopters use electric motors powered by batteries, offering quieter operation and zero emissions. They are typically used for training or short-distance transport.

8. Military Attack Helicopter:

Designed for combat, these helicopters are heavily armed with missiles, rockets, and guns. They excel in ground attack and support roles. The AH-64 Apache is a leading example.

#helicopter #navy #air force #army #world war ii #aviacion #automotive #automobile #electric vehicles #aircraft #globe #steps

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duckyjokes · 11 days ago

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I think we, as a society, need to eliminate the idea that exercise is something inherently freeing or comforting or whatever the fuck.

Yeah, I know, I know, exercise is good for people, exercise is healthy for people, exercise this, exercise that, blah blah blah.

The problem is, sometimes it isn't. In fact, for plenty of people, exercising specific part of their body is uncomfortable, painful, and can worsen symptoms.

I went on a field trip today. I can't do stairs, especially really long staircases, it worsens my back pain and my legs are really weak. But I had to walk up and back down 3 flights of stairs today. I was out of breath, standing hurt, everything genuinely sucked and a teacher looked at me and said "but don't you feel better? Now that you did it, don't you feel refreshed?" No. I didn't. I was trying not to fall over.

Exercise isn't always some beautiful, healthy experience that leaves people feeling wonderful and refreshed. It can be, but it's not inherently and we should stop treating it like it fixes all problems.

#actually disabled #disabled #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #chronic illness #i kinda wish i cussed her out #or flipped her off #or just something #but yeah exercise isn't always great #and we need to be more understanding of people that can't do it #disabilties #disability

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lumosinlove · 1 year ago

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Vaincre

May Part Six

cw: mentions of past injury

They lost game five.

Maybe, Remus thought, they had expected the Rangers to be hurting. Their footing unsure. After Archer, Remus knew he felt shaken. It was an accident. The phrase rang in his mind, complete with Archer’s face—and, even worse, Leo’s face. Heartbroken.

Remus had thought, more than once, that Logan would be off his game because of Finn.

But the Lions had been the ones feeling thrown. Sirius had stolen two goals, but one was overturned for being off-side. They missed Finn in the lineup badly. Kasey was hurting in the net. Leo had swapped in for the third period and was obviously hurting in an entirely different way. He had hardly looked at Logan on the ice and Remus hadn’t seen them say goodbye before the Lions’ flight back home to Gryffindor. He had simply slipped right out of the visitor’s locker room and onto the bus for the airport.

It should have been a complete spiral. They were facing elimination tomorrow. Their summer could begin right then, too early for anyone’s taste. Sirius should have been silent with his shoulders up to his ears. But Sirius still seemed…locked in. Captain mode, Thomas had dubbed it. It came with an exaggerated salute every time that made his stud diamond earrings flash. It still made Remus do a double-take every time he saw Sirius smile. Every time he caught him humming while loading the dishwasher or getting ready for bed in their shared hotel room. Maybe it was that they were both exhausted. Worried, too, about Finn, or about making it—that vague feeling that one was never quite doing enough.

Still. He felt some pride in seeing Sirius like that.

There existed an odd liminal space where Sirius wasn’t his. Not his fiancé, not his boyfriend. Not the man he kissed good morning, or showered with, or watched fold his laundry oh-so carefully. Not the one he’d mostly taught how to cook or the one who stole the covers ‘on accident.’ There was a space where Sirius was his captain, and only his captain.

These past few days were closer to that space than anything else. At home, they moved around each other in their own, focused routines, but Remus didn’t mind. At night, Sirius’ arms were tight around his waist. Sleepy kisses to his shoulder. It was a season balance that they were only going to get better at—and wasn’t that a strange thought. This year had felt like a dream, and it still struck Remus each time he remembered that he didn’t need to wake up.

The weight room smelled like sweat and metal and Remus let out a breath as Thomas spotted the bar back to rest.

“Shit, Looper. New PR, boy.” Thomas grinned at him upside-down.

Remus ducked the bar and sat up, using the hem of his shirt to wipe sweat off his face. “Somethings up with Leo and Logan.”

Thomas came around the bench with his arms crossed and an incredulous look on his face. “Maybe you missed the part where Leo’s ex slammed Finn’s head against the ice.”

Remus tried to side-step that mental image and stood to help him release the clips. “Why would that make them stop talking?”

“How do we know if they’re talking? Tremz lives in a different city and, let me tell you, FaceTime hits different when you’re in love.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “They didn’t even look at each other in New York.”

Thomas looked like he wanted to argue, but they both knew he couldn’t. They’d both been there each time Logan came into the Lions’ room to take Leo and Finn into his arms, win or lose. It hadn’t happened last game.

“Gotta be tough,” Thomas said more quietly. “First Tremzy now Harz. Maybe it’s just Leo sorting through it all. Plus…”

He darted a look towards Kasey on the bikes. Remus had realized the other day that he braced himself every time Kasey opened his mouth in the locker room. He’d been waiting to hear the word retirement for so long that it hardly felt like a secret anymore, just an unspoken fact. These kind of things were felt by a team. An energy shift. A change in the heart of it all.

“Team dinner tonight,” Thomas said. “We’ll sit Knut between us, see if we can’t—”

“He’s not going,” Remus said.

“Why-huh?”

“Says he wants to be there for Finn at home. Logan flies in later today, so.”

Thomas clicked his tongue. “No, man. Boyfriends are killer and all, but sometimes you need you friends.” He stuck two fingers into his mouth and let out a sharp whistle across the room. “Knut! Get over here.”

Leo looked up, settling the dumbbells he was curling near his feet, sweat gleaming across his bare chest. “What?”

Thomas gave an impatient jump. “Get over here, Cub.”

Leo still looked confused when he stopped beside them, eyeing Remus who was sliding his weights off the bar.

“You’re coming to team dinner,” Thomas said firmly, and when Leo opened his mouth to protest, Thomas jabbed a finger into his chest. “No, I’m pulling rank. You’re coming to team dinner.”

“Jesus, T,” Leo rubbed over his chest. “Ow. No, because Finn—”

“Has been very well looked after by his mommy, if I’m not mistaken, and will be very well taken care of by Logan, too. Meanwhile, you will be with us letting that weight of the world off of your stupidly toned shoulders.” Thomas slapped Sirius’ chest, who had walked up beside Remus. “Isn’t that right, Captain?” Thomas saluted.

“Quoi?” Sirius said. His fingers had started rubbing softly below the hem of Remus’ tank top. Remus bit back a smile.

“Leo is coming to team dinner,” Remus said. “Right? We’re going to drive him and he can leave his car here at the rink overnight and we’re going to buy him a drink or two.”

“Uh.” Sirius nodded when Remus did. “Ouais. Yes. True? Was this not true before?”

Thomas took Remus’ place on the bench press with a sigh. “You gotta get better at pulling rank, Cap.”

Sirius sent him an unimpressed look, then patted Leo on the shoulder. “We would like if you came to dinner.”

Remus knew Leo would have probably melted at that at one time in his life, but standing there now he just looked conflicted. Worried. It was enough to make Sirius glance at Remus.

“Not if you really don’t want to,” Sirius added softly, and in French.

“I do,” Leo said quickly. “I just…No, yeah. I do. Logan…Logan’s got it.”

“I mean, he’s done it before, right?” Thomas said. “Twice.”

Leo’s expression crumpled a little more, but he nodded and ducked away back towards his weights.

“What the hell?” Thomas whispered.

“He’s worried,” Sirius said. “Give him a break.”

Thomas scoffed. “I’m helping.”

“And I’m pulling rank,” Sirius said with raised eyebrows. “Give him a break.” Sirius turned his eyes on Remus. “And you, come with me.”

Thomas looked up from where he’d laid down on the bench. “That’s my spotter, Black!”

Sirius just threw an arm around Remus’ waist, settling it low on his back—very low. “That’s my fiancé. Rank.”

“Fucking hell,” Thomas sighed. “Warn me next time I create a monster.”

Evgeni stepped up behind Thomas’ bar, flipping his hat backwards. “I spot.”

Thomas looked mildly horrified. “Dude, you never catch it when I tell you to.”

“Work hard,” Evgeni said sagely. “Do better than you think.”

“Whatever, Yoda.”

“I am force.”

Remus reached behind him and tugged at Sirius’ wrist when his touch got more insistent, but Sirius only used the leverage to spin him around completely.

“Can I help you?” Remus asked.

Sirius’ eyes did that thing Remus liked—the very boyfriend thing, no salute required. They flit over the room behind Remus, almost playfully, before settling back on his own. Remus knew he was either about to get a secret, or blush.

“You look good right now, that’s all.”

This. This right here was the anti-spiral. Had they lost a game five like that on enemy ice a year ago, Sirius might have broken his stick. Yet here they stood.

“Thanks, baby.”

Sirius just tilted his head at him, smile slight, then asked, “What are you doing right now?”

“Well, breaking records.” Remus brought a hand around Sirius’ waist when he began walking them towards a bench press of their own. “Spot you?”

Sirius hesitated. “Uh, ouais.” He lay back on the bench and looked up at Remus upside-down. “You got a new PR?”

“Sure did.” Remus watched Sirius grip the bar of the weight and drew in a slow breath. It made his wrist bones flex with the strong cords of muscles over his forearms.

It had been good at home between them. Balanced. Focused.

Quiet.

“Ready?” he asked Sirius.

Maybe a little too quiet with Regulus in the house. Remus had watched Sirius’ bare back through the bathroom doorway that morning, muscles moving gently as he went about getting ready.

Sirius flexed his fingers around the bar twice, a little superstition of his, and Remus darted his eyes up to the room. He couldn’t get hard in the weight room. It didn’t matter how quiet home was or how busy life was.

Remus glanced towards Leo. It occurred to him then that he’d never seen him without Logan or Finn. At least, not here. Not within the team. He hardly looked up from his workout. Checked his form in the wall mirror a few times, smiled at something Olli or Jackson said, but that was all. Remus frowned. Maybe it felt as weird as it looked for him to be alone.

“I could die on your watch right now?” Sirius’ slightly strained voice said from beneath him.

“Oh,” Remus replied distractedly, and took the bar from his hands easily. “Sorry.” He settled it in the racks.

“What—non, I didn’t mean—I was half way through a set! I was joking.”

“Hm?” Remus looked down at him. “Oh. Shit, sorry.” He reached down to touch Sirius’ cheek, laughing a little. “Sorry, here.”

Sirius shook his head. “Non.”

“Non?”

Sirius’ smile was slow and secret. “I have something better in mind.”

Remus drew in another breath and reached forward to settle a hand over Sirius’ on the bar. Without another word, Sirius ducked out from the bench press and was off striding out of the room, only turning once for a last look at Remus.

James stopped on his way over to the water bottles and looked after Sirius, then at Remus.

“You know what you two are?” James said, stretching a resistance band between his hands and very nearly smacking himself in the face with it. “Subtle. Yep. That’s the word I would choose.”

Remus, at another time, would have cared. Now though, they were facing elimination from the play-offs, and he didn’t have enough fingers on his hands to count the amount of people he was currently worried about. And things had been…quiet at home.

“Thanks, James,” Remus said, then patted the weights. “Bench is all yours.”

Cabin and crew, please prepare for landing, came the pilot’s voice overhead, and Logan looked up from the iPad that Luke was holding between the two of them. It had Sirius’ line on it, with Finn, and the only reason it didn’t hurt to watch was because he would see Finn in less than an hour.

“Why did that feel like forever?” Logan rubbed at his eyes. Maybe he’d slept a little. He couldn’t tell. There was one thought in his mind. LeoLeoLeoLeoLeo.

“Because you get a little desperate when you’re excited,” Luke replied, then nearly dodged Logan’s well-aimed knock to his head.

“How’s he doing?” Luke asked. “Finn.”

Logan thunked his head back against the plane seat. “I don’t like seeing him quiet and hurt. I don’t like it when he pretends to be all right, but at least if he can pretend, then he’s not as bad as he was.”

Luke looked like he was thinking about laughing at him again, but the look ended up boarding impressed instead. “Man. That’s a lot to figure out.”

Logan looked down at his phone. The background was lit up, Finn and Leo smushed together in bed, laughing. He stroked a thumb over Leo’s smile. “I like figuring them out. Even if I get it wrong…” Logan trailed off. “Sometimes.”

Their row was a bit of a mess. Headphones hanging from the jack, a stack of plastic cups that had once held ginger-ale and coke. The discarded containers of their take-out lunch and the crumpled bag of left over chips they’d been sharing.

“I just want to see him,” Logan said. In truth, it felt like more than a want. He thought he might die if he didn’t get his hands on Finn soon. And Leo…

He closed his eyes at the thought of Leo.

“Wanna talk about it?” Luke asked softly.

Logan shook his head. He supposed he hadn’t been very subtle, staring into the empty visitor’s locker room like he had after game five, but he didn’t have the words. Not yet.

“Non,” Logan said. His voice sounded scratchy to himself. “Thanks.”

“Lucas.”

When Logan looked again, Saint was leaning against the seat in front of them, his curly hair tucked away beneath a blue backwards hat.

Luke’s posture relaxed at the sight of him. It always did. His shoulders lowered, knees spread a little, fingers reaching behind him to rub at the back of his neck and the star tattoo there. Logan was still waiting to hear what it meant.

“That’s not actually my full name and you know it,” Luke said.

Saint ignored him. “Will I be seeing you tonight?”

“We did say we were grabbing dinner, so…” Luke smiled a little.

Saint’s eyes darted to Logan, then away. “Is that what we’re doing now? Grabbing dinner.”

Slowly, Logan watched Luke’s smile falter. “Seb, I…”

Seb. Logan had only heard that a handful of times now, too. No one called Saint by his real name, Sebastian. Luke did, though. When he was really celebrating on the ice, gloved hand cupping Saint’s goalie mask and tilting their foreheads together. Fuck, Seb, gorgeous game. Logan had heard it in softer settings, too. Late night, at Luke’s apartment, when they thought he was still in the kitchen. Seb…stay tonight. Will you?

Saint just looked at Luke, hip against the plane seat, and Logan felt a familiar squirming in his stomach, even if it was second-hand this time.

What if I said I wanted to spend the night with you, Logan? What if I said that? What if my night would be good with you in it?

This look of Saint’s was one of a boy who had been waiting on an answer for a while. And Luke’s was one of a boy who was trying hard, trying with everything in him, to give one.

“Well,” Luke said haltingly. “Let’s go to dinner. Like we said.”

So precisely put. Kind. Careful. Nervous.

Saint rolled his eyes, but he put a hand on Luke’s shoulder as he passed them by. “Tonight, then.”

Logan looked away. He pretended to tidy up the floor beneath them. Cups, wrappers, crumbs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luke look between their seats to the row behind them. It was empty. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his eyes, then spoke.

“You know,” Luke said softly. “Don’t you?”

Logan straightened. He crumpled a chocolate wrapper in his fist.

“I don’t know anything. Not if you don’t want me to.”

“But I do,” Luke said. Even with how clean the admission was, Logan could see that it was hard. The familiar struggle flickered right through his eyes. Luke wet his lips, checked around him again, then looked back at Logan. “I…I do want you to know.”

Grabbing dinner. How many times had he and Finn and Leo said that to each other before actually taking each other to dinner? It sounded the same, but it wasn’t.

“Then, yeah,” Logan said. “Ouais, I know.”

Luke nodded. He looked at the screen in front of him, showing the icon of their plane on the electronic map.

Logan tried desperately to think what to say, but, then again, maybe that’s what Luke was doing, too. Leo would have known.

“I know…” It’s hard. It’s so hard, but it’s so wonderful when—

“Think they’ll call Archer back up?” Luke hardly seemed to want the answer to his own question. He looked mournfully down the aisle where Saint had retreated. “He played well besides…you know.”

Logan cursed himself. He’d have to be quicker. More sure. He’d have to be those things if he wanted to help.

“I don’t want to win with Archer.” Logan gave his head a sharp shake. “To be honest. I don’t want him to get any credit for how young he is and how much he’s done. And I don’t care if that’s too personal.” The coaching staff’s reprimand still tasted bitter in Logan’s mouth.

“Right,” Luke said. He was distracted. He needed Logan to talk.

“I think…Je…Uh, quand—” Logan looked out the window and closed one eye, thinking. “You know, uh, c’est la—Have you been to Low Moon? Best ramen in the city. Really, Leo and I love the spicy one and that’s really saying something that we both think something spicy is good. Usually he hates it if I like it because it’s not enough—”

“I’m taking him out to dinner,” Luke said suddenly. Soft, but not quite as under his breath as before. He looked over at Logan. “I’m taking Seb out to dinner. Tonight.”

Logan was startled to find his throat thick.

“Good,” Logan said firmly. He offered Luke a small, sure smile. “It will be so, so good.”

Remus’ plan was already half gone. It had been something about fast, and quiet, and pinning Sirius against the equipment closet shelves. Something about Regulus always being in the house, and them not having much time, and wanting to see that look on Sirius’ face that was entirely his, no captain in sight. Something stupid like making Sirius come when anyone could walk in at any moment and anyone could hear.

But Sirius was kissing him slow now, taking his time, and feeling up Remus’ ass like he had absolutely nothing better to do. He kept the kisses sloppy, little nips to Remus’ lip, probably too much tongue than Remus should actually be enjoying, but he was. He knew that Sirius liked it this way sometimes. Especially when everything was so figured out. So in routine. It was making them both hard in their shorts, and Remus knew they should probably do something about that if they were going to make it through this without any embarrassing encounters.

He had come in here wanting that look in Sirius’ eyes that put him at sea with only Sirius’ hands to save him. It was his very own color blue. He wanted to watch Sirius have to lean against him, and feel that fine tremor that started in the muscles of his lower back. He wanted the shadow of Sirius’ shoulders arching around him when he came. It made Remus feel completely covered, hidden from the rest of the world.

Sirius had a smile in his voice when he spoke next. He leaned back, hardly at all, and pressed a thumb into Remus’ bottom lip. “I know we should be quick but…” He leaned in again, thumb sliding down to hold Remus’ chin, and Remus had to wrap his arms around Sirius’ neck to keep himself steady.

“You’re—” Remus had to catch his breath. He reached between them, he needed to feel. He tugged at Sirius’ waistband. He was hot and silky to the touch. Remus looked at the shine smeared across his stomach, the way Sirius had to catch himself against the shelf behind them. The way he had to spread his legs, the slit of his cock giving way to shining drips of want.

Sirius ducked down to press their foreheads together. Outside, Remus heard someone pass them by in the hallway.

“Shit,” Remus whispered against Sirius’ mouth. He felt it when they both started laughing, breathlessly.

“I love you,” Sirius whispered. His hand was gentle, a little cool, when he reached for Remus, tugging the front of his shorts down. God, he had had these shorts in college and now Sirius was—

Remus tried to stay quiet, tried to stop smiling, but laughed more when Sirius’ next kiss was more to his teeth than his lips. “Shh—hm…”

Sirius had hitched one of Remus’ thighs up around his waist and brought their hips together. He looked like he did when he was actually fucking Remus. Sweat on his temples, eyes so soft Remus could have died. He thought for a moment maybe they could—but no, too much time. Not enough time. But Sirius’ hand was still on his ass, fingers tight and digging in, and he lined the two of them up perfectly. Sirius’ cock looked so ready that Remus’ mouth watered. His t-shirt was done for, white stains smearing over the dark hem.

“I’m—” Remus breathed. His voice sounded shaky in the silent, muted room. Something was rattling on the shelf behind him—metal?—and he could hear the music blasting from the weights room—something country sounding with, thank God, heavy bass. Sirius’ fingers slipped down an inch. “Sirius…”

Maybe it was his thigh being up like that. Maybe it was Sirius still smiling into their next kiss, or the drag of the play-off scruff, dark on his cheeks and chin, against the sensitive skin of Remus’ neck.

“Re,” Sirius whispered. Remus, with his hands locked on his shoulders, could feel his muscles working. “Fuck…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Remus chanted, tilting his head back. “Yes, yes…”

“Shh…” Sirius whispered and then he was kissing him again, swallowing the sound Remus made as he spilled between them. “Re, Re…”

They were heat against heat when Sirius tipped over right after him, and there it was. That tremor. That ocean that held just the two of them. Just Sirius. Just his boy, crushed against him, all warmth, and all that was those cool, rain water eyes.

They listened to the music down the hall as they caught their breath. Someone had gotten tired of country obviously, and what sounded like Thomas’ sugary pop was blasting now.

“I don’t know—” Remus swallowed around a dry throat. “No idea how long we’ve been here.”

“Probably too long…” Sirius kissed his throat like he had no plans of moving, and Remus pressed a hand to the coarse beard across his cheek.

“Hm…” Remus thought maybe he was going to fall asleep, right here in this dark, smelly closet. “It’s still going to be light outside when we leave though. If we can even make it to the showers without…Jesus, we’re dumb.”

Sirius grinned. “I would say I’m going to take you out to dinner now, but…”

“Can’t,” Remus said. He had the most wild urge to jump straight into Sirius’ arms though. “We have a team to take care of.”

Logan had his face tilted up into the shower’s hot spray, letting it wash the airplane from his skin, when the fogged up glass door opened.

“Non. I told you—” The words were hardly out of Logan’s mouth before he even turned, but Finn was already inside, sling left behind on the bathroom floor along with all of his clothes.

“For five minutes,” Finn groaned. He had his bad arm cradled protectively against his chest. “I missed you.”

“You’re supposed to be resting,” Logan said, pushing wet hair out of his eyes. “That means still.” When Finn just shuffled right under the spray and up against his chest, Logan couldn’t help but laugh and rub a gentle hand up and down his side. “Who’s the puppy now? I said I’d be right back.”

“Yeah,” Finn said simply, and cradled Logan’s jaw with his free hand to kiss his other cheek. “Thing is, I’ve had enough distance from you to last a couple lifetimes.”

Logan clicked his tongue but leaned forward to kiss right over Finn’s collarbone. “You’re bad.” Then, what was it Finn was always saying? “Low blow.”

Finn just pushed his face into Logan’s neck with a pleased, rumbling sound. He was warm in the way that Logan associated with him being hurt. A little too warm, like his entire body turned all of its multitudes of attention on itself. Okay, it made Logan think. Five minutes.

“Sit, then,” he said.

There was a little stone-tiled alcove in their shower wall, and Finn only complained a little at how cold it was when Logan eased him down. He tucked his good hand under his injured arm’s elbow for support and ignored Logan’s pointed look.

“Hm,” Logan said. “What could be supporting your arm, I wonder?”

“Hm, what should I do while I’m sitting?” Finn asked with a smile, eyes low on Logan’s stomach.

“Not that,” Logan said.

“Yes.” He leaned forward and kissed over a dark mole on Logan’s stomach.

“Non, doctor says—”

Finn just ducked lower and kissed the tattoo on Logan’s hip. “What doctor?”

Logan cupped the back of Finn’s head gently and tried to will the heat in his stomach away. This was new. Never had he ever had a concussed Finn in his arms and going for sex. “Harz.”

Finn looked up at him, steam curling the parts of his hair that were still half-dry. “It feels like it’s been decades. Between this and the play-offs…”

Now that Logan was considering it, Finn was sporting a semi, fattening against his thigh. He felt Finn’s hand on his hip slid a little lower over his ass.

“Lo.”

“You shouldn’t have come in here,” Logan sighed.

“Light exercise within 72 hours,” Finn recited the doctors words. “Helps speed up recovery.”

Logan laughed and watched Finn’s eyes light up with it. “This is light exercise?”

Finn grinned. “As light as it gets.”

“Shoulder.”

“Minimal movement helps speed up recovery. I want you.” Finn leaned forward to rest his forehead against Logan’s stomach, then nuzzled against it. “I missed you.”

Logan closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy, for a moment, the hot water down his back and the feeling of Finn’s mouth against his skin. He had another set of months to look forward to of not being able to get the image of Finn’s hurting eyes out of his mind. It happened like this every time. Seeing Finn hurt scared him, a true and unforgiving nightmare.

He wanted Finn. God, did he ever. He was gone for the way Finn seemed so like himself. Those first few days had been hell, an unwanted flashback.

He knelt on a knee and rubbed his hands slowly up and down Finn’s thighs, watching the way Finn smiled at him.

“Really?” Finn said softly. “Thanks, baby.”

“I missed you, too,” Logan said, looking between his brown eyes. “I missed your jokes and your eyes and the way you walk around the house.” He cupped Finn’s elbow. “But if you think I’m letting you sit on hard stone right now and do this, you’re insane—C’est fou.”

“Foo-who?” Finn sighed. He jerked a chin towards Logan’s knees. “Trickery.” He reached out to tangle one hand’s fingers in Logan’s wet hair. “Viens ici.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “How hard did you hit your head again?”

Finn just smiled against his lips when Logan leaned forward for a kiss. “Knocked some French right into it, I guess.”

“Shh…” Logan laughed into the word and pushed up on his knees to kiss him gently again. “I’m tucking you in bed.”

“You can take me to bed after this, for sure.”

“Put your sling on.” Logan kissed the corner of his mouth and got back to his feet. “Do you want me to wash your hair?”

Finn leaned forward and pressed his teeth into the muscle of Logan’s stomach.

“I’m just gonna take that as a yes. Ow.”

Finn bit harder.

Logan could have run his hands through Finn’s hair forever. Thick red strands that he’d spent years looking at—soaked through by rain, drying in the sun, curling and coarse from salt water, stuck to his skin from sweat.

God, did Logan want him.

“Shut up,” Logan whispered, a little nonsensically, at the sight of Finn’s brown eyes looking up at him. Finn grinned like he knew.

“You are a beautiful boy,” Finn said. “Hot fucking damn, I’m a lucky one. You, Le…”

Logan combed his hair out of his face. His eyes were bright. Clear. He looked all right. Still, Logan flinched through lingering glimpses of his body on the ice. It hadn’t been like that the other times. Not the first, when he’d dropped against him on the bus home. Not the second, when he’d gotten himself off the ice and into the locker room on his own, to scared to try and hide it.

“What did I do in a past life to deserve you two?” Finn asked softly.

Logan passed his thumb over the freckles on his cheek, the familiar pattern of darker ones on the left side of his nose and under his eye. One, two, three, four.

“What did you do?” Logan repeated. “Make drinks.” Finn was kissing his tattoo again, wet darts of his tongue stroking Logan’s skin. Logan let his head tip back, he couldn’t look for too long. “Make trouble…”

“And?” Finn asked. He was drawing a palm up Logan’s inner thigh.

Logan hissed a breath in through his teeth and reached for something to hold onto. His eyes flashed open when Finn’s body flinched away from his touch and Finn cried out.

“Oh…” Logan yanked his hand away from Finn’s shoulder. “Finn—”

“It’s okay.” Finn was hunched in on himself a little, eyes closed and holding his shoulder. “I’m good, I’m good.”

“Non,” Logan said with finality. He shut the shower off. “Non, non, non. Deslolé, sorry, sorry, Rouge, Rouge…” Logan bent to kiss the opposite side of Finn’s neck, avoiding the shoulder any way he could. “Desolé, mon coeur, sorry—”

“Lo, I’m good, I’m fine. Surprised me.” Finn put a hand on the back of Logan’s neck, rubbing gently. “I’m good, baby.”

Logan just pressed his nose gently against Finn’s jaw, then pulled back to look him in the eye. “Sling.” He raised his eyebrows. “Dinner. Bed.”

When Finn just sent him a mournful look, made almost sweet by the way the shower had plastered his bangs against his forehead, Logan kissed him softly on the mouth. “Rouge. Let me.”

Finn let him rub a towel through his hair. He let Logan sit him on the edge of the bed and then help him into a soft pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt—Leo’s, he requested. A big, worn out summer camp one. It was a bad memory, doing everything by dim light like this, but Finn looked good in the soft glow anyway.

“You look like you do in that bookstore you love,” Logan said as he gently loosened the sling to accommodate the thicker fabric. “The small one. In New York.”

“I do?”

Logan stroked Finn’s hair out of his face. He hadn’t been wearing his glasses. There was no point. Logan missed them. “Mhm.”

“What does that even mean?”

Honestly, Logan didn’t really know how to explain it to him. He didn’t know it beyond the feeling of soft, looking at me, warm hands.

When he leaned down and brushed a kiss over Finn’s mouth, Finn wrapped an arm around his hips and scooped him right into his straddling his lap.

“Harz,” Logan complained, but he did it right against Finn’s mouth so it probably lost some heat.

“Hey,” Finn said. “Don’t tell me I can’t handle even this.”

Logan snorted out a laugh when Finn’s fingers squeezed. “You need your medicine.”

“Ooh, you gonna give it to me?”

Logan nodded, and cupped the back of Finn’s head, touching their foreheads together. Finally, he felt Finn relax. When he risked a glance, Finn had his eyes closed.

“Missed you,” Finn said softly.

It took Logan back to that first day, getting him home from the hospital. It hurts, Finn had whispered to him in the darkness—a thunderous admission. He’d slept hard that night, barely moving from his place against Logan’s chest.

And no matter how much Logan tried to pull him close, Leo had been distant, claiming he was just tired. He’d kissed Finn’s forehead, squeezed Logan’s hand, then rolled over, his back facing them. It twisted Logan’s heart all up, just thinking about it.

Logan settled him and Finn on the couch to scroll through Grubhub, keeping the TV off. Finn looked happier with the sling taking the weight of his arm and his night round of medication for his head.

“Soup,” Finn said when he saw Logan’s phone screen—Logan jerked it away from his eyes.

“No screens.”

“Fine, fine, but Le made me soup. It’s in the fridge.”

“Baby, I love you,” Logan said. “But I need more than soup.”

“Ugh. I miss being, like, full-on hungry.” Finn pushed his good shoulder up against Logan’s. “You’ve never called me baby this much in your life.”

Logan slid his eyes over to him. “So you’ve said. Taco’s? Or do you just want soup?”

“Soup,” Finn said—not the best of signs in Logan’s book. The second Finn requested a bagel and lox he’d feel ten times lighter. Though, Leo’s soup did smell like heaven.

“D’accord. I’m gonna put my order in then I’ll heat it up for you.”

“I can do it—”

“Non,” Logan said. He clicked his phone off and kissed Finn’s temple. “Let me.”

“I’ll come with you,” Finn said the second Logan got up.

He turned around and laughed. “Harz. Did you follow your mom around?”

“No,” Finn said. “Those days I mostly just slept.” He went to push himself up from the couch, but he must have moved something wrong—shoulder, head—because he cursed, eyes squeezing shut, and he rested his head back against the cushions.

Logan sat down, reaching out a hand to his thigh. “Rouge—”

“I’ve been exhausted and in pain and tired of both,” Finn sighed. “There. I admit it. I’m sick of sitting still, I’m sick of being cooped up away from the light, I miss you both so much it’s insane, I drive myself insane, and I’m sick of…” He cut off, a frustrated pink to his cheeks and neck. He stared at the blank TV, as if there was a game playing. “I want to be out there. I don’t like listening on the radio.”

“I know,” Logan said. “I know you do. But you’ll be able to come to a game soon—”

“I want to be on the ice. Helping. We lost the last game and…God, I’m sick of you not being on my team and—and you and Le are fighting.”

Maybe Logan should have seen that last one coming.

Maybe those words had been hovering in the room, in the apartment. A tight, thick feeling of unrest that had kept him staring at his ceiling most of last night and on the plane.

He didn’t like the look of those words on Finn’s face. Bitter as the aftertaste of the pills he had to swallow.

“Aren’t you?” Finn asked quietly.

“Non,” Logan said uncertainly. “We…”

Was it so real as that? A fight? He couldn’t stand the idea of Leo going through practice all day, sitting at a restaurant somewhere downtown, mad at him.

“He won’t say what happened,” Finn said. “He won’t say something’s wrong at all, but there is.”

Logan swallowed. “We…” Words clogged up his throat.

“I’ve told him over and over again that this isn’t his fault,” Finn said. “And for a while I thought that was it, but it’s more like…I don’t know. It’s more like…”

“I maybe, um.” Logan paused. “I maybe got a little protective…that first night.”

“From Leo?”

“Non, of course not, I…I don’t know, Finn. I don’t know. I didn’t mean to, I just—you were so—I don’t know.”

“No one is still telling me what the fuck happened—”

“I don’t know.”

“Is it me?”

Logan pressed a hand over his eyes, groaning. “Finn. Non. Of course not. Just let me get our food.”

“Tremz…”

“Look, I’m starving.” Logan pushed his hands through his hair. “And I need to think how to say it, d’accord, so—I’m getting our food.”

He didn’t want to leave Finn on the couch like that, staring after him. He waited for footsteps, Finn’s socks on the floor, following him like he promised. But when he had ordered and peeked back into the living room, Finn had his eyes closed.

Remus loved the beginning of team dinners. They rarely hopped around from place to place, not when it was all of them. More often than not, they booked out the third floor of the Golden Lion bar. Remus could still see Sirius at his first one, standing across the room, a rookie, guarded, unwilling to even accept a drink. Even then, he had been so beautiful.

Everyone stood around high-top tables and the bar, helping themselves to the chips and salsa or mozzarella sticks passed around by waiters, ice cold beers sliding across the bar. The scene made Remus feel a little like he used to, as the PT. He could stand more towards the edges of the room, only just on the outside of things near the stairs, and look in.

Sirius and James were talking to Regulus near the far end of the bar. Regulus rolled his eyes at something Sirius said and James threw his head back, laughing. The brothers looked similar to Remus in their gray t-shirts. Regulus looked like he had taken back up with the gym, and Remus watched James pluck at his t-shirt like he had noticed, too.

Evgeni was being firmly told off of a shot of vodka by Jackson and Layla, who was standing back to back with Cole—and Remus swore he saw their fingers brush sometimes whenever one of them put their hand down.

Pascal had Celeste cornered against the bar with a soft smile on his face and one hand on her waist. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek and she said something that made him duck his forehead her her shoulder and laugh.

And Leo. Remus could tell, almost just by the way he was slowly stirring his gin and tonic, that Leo was missing his boys. Even as he laughed at something Thomas was saying to him and Cole, he kept brushing a thumb over a back pocket where his phone was.

Remus took a sip of his beer and turned to Lily. “I don’t know why but it’s really bothering me. The Cubs thing.”

Lily looked up from the chip in her hand, dangerously cradling too much salsa. “Lupin, you can’t go worrying about everyone else the second you’re not on the rocks yourself. It’s Leo. It’s Leo and Logan and Finn—Jesus, I’ve seen the way they treat each other. I’m surprised they don’t use all that money to build monuments to worship at.”

“Yeah,” Remus said absently, frowning at the back of Leo’s head.

“I’m surprised you and Black don’t build monuments,” Lily mumbled, then put the whole chip in her mouth.

“Sirius’ would be to slap shots.”

“Mm, pretty sure it’d be to you.”

Remus leaned back against the dark-wood bar and grinned. “Huh. Yeah, it would be.” He held up his hand with his ring on it. “Aren’t offerings the beginning?”

Lily slapped his chest. “Okay, that joke’s over now. Get that thing out of my face before it catches light and blinds me.”

Remus just turned his hand to look at it himself. The stupid big rock had grown on him—as if, some how, Sirius had known it would. He loved slipping it back on after practice. He even didn’t mind the Instagram account dedicated to Remus-Ring-Sightings that Thomas had shown him.

“We’re here!” came Natalie’s voice right behind them. She finished walking up the stairs and spun on her heels, flashing Remus her red-bottomed boots. “Hello Remus Lupin, we brought a soldier behind enemy lines.”

“Oh?” Remus asked.

Kasey followed her, smiling slightly, and behind him came Alex.

“Oh, boo,” Thomas yelled. “Wrong O’Hara!”

“Get lost in big city, Ranger?” Evgeni called out.

“What can I say?” Alex grinned. “I was promised whiskey.”

Remus laughed, sharing an eye-roll with Kasey. He was holding tightly to Alex’s hand, and Alex didn’t let go even when Leo walked up to hug him.

“How’s my baby brother?” Alex said, keeping a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Not smothered by my mother?”

Leo pretended to think on it. “Don’t think so.”

“Surely Logan, then.”

Leo’s smile wavered. “No. They’re good. Lo’s there now. Got home after I left for here.”

Alex nodded. “Well, guess he’s done it before. Knows his way around the I’m fine’s and I can do it’s and It doesn’t hurt’s.”

Remus saw Leo’s throat move around a swallow. “Yeah. He does.”

Lily got taken up by Natalie (and her boots) and Remus was left to settle back again and watch. Sirius was talking with his hands, replying to something Kasey had said, and then pushing his palm through his hair in the way he did when he was really loose. Not worried about seeming too much, too loud, taking up too much space. Remus smiled watching him smile. He wasn’t sure what he wanted more, to steal him away into another hidden corner or to take him out to dinner, just the two of them. He wanted to trace the way he rubbed at the beard he was growing for the play-offs. He wanted to tangle his fingers in his hair.

“Hey, heart-eyes.”

Remus blinked and looked up at Leo, who took a bar stool for himself.

“Hey yourself.” Remus gave himself a little shake. “Hey, it’s hard not to. You get it.”

“Oh, I get it.” Leo glanced Alex’s way. “But wrong O’Hara.”

“Ha.” Remus grinned. “Yours is doing okay?”

When Leo let out a long sigh, Remus clinked their glasses together apologetically. “Sorry, you’re probably so sick of being asked that. I can ask him myself.”

“No, no…” Leo took the lime off of the edge of his glass. It had been squeezed already and was dry between his fingers. “No, it’s not that.”

Remus wondered where Thomas had gone off to. Noelle was with Natalie and Lily. He’d wanted to be here for this.

“We—T and I…” Remus shrugged. “We’d noticed you’d been a little…down. And I mean, understandably, but…you and Logan sort of…”

Leo huffed. “Stop wincing at me, Loops. I’ll tell you if you want.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink, crunching ice between his teeth. “If I even know what to tell.”

Remus frowned. “What does that mean, Knutty?”

Leo’s jaw worked as he let the ice melt in his mouth, blue eyes down. Remus stayed quiet, though part of him was dying to guess, to try and help.

“I’ve always thought that I’d feel their history more than I do,” Leo finally said. “More than I ever have. I’ve always been a little surprised by it. By how little I feel…you know. Like I wasn’t there. Because I wasn’t, I wasn’t there. And it doesn’t actually come up, honestly. Until…”

“The concussion brought it up?”

“Yeah. A little.” Leo looked down. “I don’t know, I think Lo’s just sort of in the mode of feeling guilty about the other times, when Finn got hit in college and he couldn’t…”

“I guess that makes sense.”

Leo’s smile was sad. “It all makes sense, and I’ve got it all figured out. That’s how I always am. I get it, and I can say it. That doesn’t always make it better.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah. No, I see. It’s still there. And you haven’t said anything to Logan?”

“I don’t know if it’s fair of me to.” He looked over at Remus. “Re, we’ve never…we’ve never fought before. And the worst part is, I’m not even sure if that’s what we’re doing or if I’m just being stupid and, like, stubborn or something. Or just childish. Or selfish?” Leo shook his head. “And I just can’t stop thinking about the night it happened. We brought him home—”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Alex threw his arms around them both. “Which one of you is gonna buy me a drink before me and Tremblay wha-hip your asses next game?”

Leo, to his credit, did a pretty good job of dredging up a smile.

“Not me. Goalie privilege.”

Alex pushed his bottom lip out. “Kase never told me about that one. I think you made that up.”

“Oh, it exists,” Leo said, then ducked out from Alex’s arm. “I’m sure of it.”

Remus sighed, watching Leo go. “Hazard, I was getting somewhere.”

“What do you mean?” Alex looked at Leo over his shoulder. “I thought we were cheering him up. That’s what Walker just said.”

“Well—yeah.” Remus shook his head. Leo, maybe, didn’t need another person on his case. “Yeah. All right, so I guess I’m buying. What’ll it be?”

Finn was on the very edge of their bed, on top of all the covers like he had barely lay down before falling asleep. His injured arm was cradled protectively against his chest in its sling. Leo checked the time on his watch. He couldn’t have been out for more than a few minutes since Logan and him had finished bringing all their things inside. He glanced behind him from his place in the bedroom doorway, listening to Logan doing something in the kitchen. Probably leaving every single cupboard open in the way he always did. Finn would usually be out there bothering him. Lo, whiskey? We could share.

Leo knew where that came from. He knew all the stories. The roof. OKN House. But he didn’t know. He never cleaned up Logan’s knee when he cut himself climbing back through the window from that roof perch. He’d never watched the sunset from up there. He’d never passed a bottle of whiskey back and forth with them beneath the pink and orange sky.

He knelt beside the bed, bringing his face close to Finn’s, and reached out to push the hair out of Finn’s eyes.

He’d never done this. He’d never seen such a soft Finn. A needy Finn, too exhausted to hold himself together. It was different than the hurt, desperate Finn that he’d seen when Logan first went to New York. That one had been wound so tightly that he was bound to fly apart. This one was all loose sadness and helpless pain.

“Howdy,” Finn whispered without opening his eyes. His voice cracked with exhaustion. “Butter.”

“Hi,” Leo said. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

“Come to think of it, I’m not,” Finn mumbled. “You have practice?”

“No, honey,” Leo said.

“Oh. Wait, what time is it?”

“It’s really late,” Leo said. “Don’t worry, you can sleep.”

“Good. Hmm, good, that’s good.”

A moment later, he was asleep. Leo frowned, reaching up to smooth his thumb over a crease between Finn’s eyebrows. He watched Finn’s eyelashes flutter a little across his cheeks before trying to decide how to get him comfortable. He was too hot, his shirt sticking to him. No sooner had Leo reached for the hem than did Finn suck in a breath, half-waking.

“Lo?” Finn mumbled sleepily, reaching a hand out to blindly grasp at Leo’s shirt.

Leo bit his lip, looking towards the living room where Logan was. “Oh. No. No, it’s Leo, Harz. But I can get him—”

But Finn grabbed onto his arm and opened his eyes. The honey-brown looked so, so tired. “No. Stay, Le. Sorry, I was still half asleep. Hi, baby.”

“Hi,” Leo whispered. “You want to get out of your clothes, sweetheart? Get under the covers?”

“What?” Finn asked. “Oh, sure. What time is it? Do I…Wait, I’m getting dressed?”

“Let me help you,” Leo said.

He got at Finn’s shoes first, slipping them off while Finn lay back on the bed. Next came his sweatpants.

“Okay,” Leo said. Finn eased himself up with his good hand, and Leo could hardly stand the slight shake in the muscle of his forearm.

“I think I can do it,” Finn said.

“Okay.” Leo knelt between his knees, ready, as Finn gingerly took his sling off before pulling his t-shirt up and over his head—one arm first, head out, to be eased off his shoulder. Leo helped him out of his sweatpants. He blinked down at Leo when he was done.

“You know…” Finn put his good hand on Leo’s cheek. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”

“We don’t have to talk about that now. You need to rest—”

“You know this isn’t your fault,” Finn said again. “Leo.”

Leo closed his eyes. He pressed a kiss to Finn’s palm and then rose to go to their dresser. “Which t-shirt?”

“Yours,” Finn said softly. “Your Saints one.”

Leo looked back at him. He looked sad, worried. The opposite of rest. He was holding his arm protectively, cradled against his chest, but he seemed to forget for a moment. He went to reach out and then flinched, sucking air in through his teeth.

Leo grabbed the shirt and pants quickly and shut the drawer. “You need to lay down and put that sling back on.”

“Not until you tell me you don’t think this is your fault.” Finn blinked up at him as Leo gently eased a t-shirt over his head, his sling over it. It mussed his hair in a way that made Leo want to lay right down and curl into his side.

“Lay back,” Leo said shakily. “Sweetheart—”

Finn held onto his wrist even as Leo managed to get him to lay on his back, head propped against the pillows. “No, you’re about to cry, I can see it. I can see it.”

“And I really don’t want to,” Leo whispered.

“Lay down,” Finn said. “Lay down with me.”

Leo put a hand on Finn’s cheek. He took Finn’s fingers off of his wrist and Finn let his head sink into the pillow.

“Le?” Logan said from the doorway. He was holding a bowl and Leo could smell that it was chicken broth. Leo frowned.

“Did you bring in the bag of medicine from the doctor?” Logan asked.

“I—yeah,” Leo said. He stepped back from the bed. “It’s in the hall.”

Logan sat on the edge of Finn’s bed and set the soup down. Finn’s eyes had slipped closed, but they opened again at the weight at his side. “Mon rouge, drink a bit of this, d’accord? Just a little.”

Leo stared at Logan’s back. Had that been a request that he go get it? He took a step back, waiting for Logan to look at him, but he only set the broth down at the request of a protesting Finn and, when Finn put an arm around his back, leaned over him.

Leo watched as Finn just blinked up at Logan and gave a weak shrug with his good shoulder.

Logan brushed a finger over the skin under Finn’s eye. “You’re so tired, Rouge.” The kiss he let rest against Finn’s mouth was the softest thing Leo had ever seen. “It’s okay.”

“Lo.” Finn let his head sink into his pillow and closed his eyes.

“Tell me,” Logan whispered. “Tell me how to help.” He brushed their noses together, back and forth, back and forth, feather-light.

“I love you,” Logan whispered.

“Love you,” Finn said, barely, a little slurred from exhaustion. “It hurts.”

That admission, from Finn, was almost terrifying.

The guilt welled up so fast that Leo had to take a step backwards. He went to the kitchen—every cupboard open, a little soup spilled on the counter. Can knocked over, can opener splayed out. It was a mess, it was the mess Logan usually made, but it felt ten times worse just then. Ten times bigger.

“Did you get his medicine?” Logan’s voice came from behind him, brushing past Leo and going over to the bags in the entry hall. “He should take it before he really falls asleep.”

Leo turned, watching him rummage through their things.

“You made soup,” Leo said.

“Ouais, it’s always the only thing he’ll touch,” Logan said without looking up.

Leo nodded wordlessly. He thought about going over to the stove. Cleaning up. His feet didn’t move.

“Quoi?” Logan passed him by, headed to the fridge. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Why was he?

“I don’t know,” Leo heard himself say. “Just that if there was one thing I…”

Logan had yanked open the refrigerator but paused, a water bottle in hand.

“What?” Logan asked. He looked surprised by Leo’s tone. It had come out harsh. Angry.

Leo looked down, a little embarrassed. Wishing he could take it back. “Nothing.”

“Leo—”

“If there was one thing I could have done right tonight, that was probably it,” Leo said in a rush. He sighed, motioning to the stove. “Like, okay, you’ve done all of this before but I…”

He suddenly didn’t even have the energy to finish the sentence. He wanted to crawl into bed. He wanted to listen to Finn’s even breathing. He wanted the image of him with his eyes closed against the ice out of his head.

“Le.” Logan looked down at the water and medicine. “I’m—I didn’t…”

“He needs the pain killers before he sleeps,” Leo said. “You should give them to him.”

Leo shut the door to their apartment and shut his eyes against the memory. He didn’t like this lumpy ball of guilt, misplaced, overworked, and unguided. It was dark except for the hall’s night light, and he imagined that he could hear Logan and Finn sleeping. Synced breathing and body heat.

The bedroom door was open, but he forced himself to go right to the shower. He took his time. Let himself cry a little. Let himself be angry at Jack, angry at himself.

Angry at Logan.

The team dinner had distracted him, but Kasey brought a new round of what felt like grief. He’d really thought Kasey was going to make the announcement tonight. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could’ve taken it tonight, hearing Kasey go.

His own mind rang between his ears, so muddled that, if asked, he wouldn’t have been able to put a name to the feeling. He wouldn’t have been able to say if it sprung from the ever looming possibility of losing Kasey, or the general pressure of the game, or the past of Finn and Logan that he would never know the half of.

It was his own fault, letting all these hopeless and irrational feelings stir up now of all times. The soup didn’t matter, it wasn’t anyone’s fault. He couldn’t have known Jack would do this. His mind skipped around, but it always landed in the same place. He just wanted Finn to be okay. He wanted his loud laugh, dancing around the kitchen, pausing with his hands on Leo’s hips. Back in the locker room. Coming home from a run and bringing him coffee in bed. Good morning, rise and shine, sunshine.

Toweling off his hair, he came into the dark bedroom. Finn’s head was on Logan’s chest, sleeping on his side without the sling. He was passed out hard, his mouth open a little. Logan was pulling gentle fingers through his red hair and watching Leo through the dim light.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” Leo whispered.

Logan just open his free arm. “Ici.”

Leo hesitated. He knew his blocked up nose would give him away. He turned to hang the towel over the ajar door, then walked into one of the closets. “One sec.”

He grabbed for a pair of pajama paints and, on second thought, a long-sleeved shirt. He didn’t feel being exposed anywhere. He felt too shivery, too wound up. He wished one of Logan or Finn’s sweatshirts would pull easily over his hands.

Logan was still waiting with patient green eyes when he emerged. He’d propped himself up on a pillow a little, but Finn had hardly moved. Logan opened up his arm again, insistent.

Leo lay down beside him, but Logan didn’t have it.

“Non, ici.” Logan pulled until Leo’s head was on his chest, too, a mirror to Finn. He kissed Leo’s hair once, twice. The third time, his lips stayed and Leo nearly closed his eyes. Finn looked peaceful, this close up. He was holding himself tight, just a little, as if the discomfort didn’t dissipate even in sleep. His hair was damp, like he had showered. Come to think of it, Logan’s was, too. Maybe they’d had theirs together. And he’d just cried through his own.

“Was dinner good?” Logan whispered. Leo felt the words against his skin. He nodded, but he didn’t think he could speak.

“Good.” Logan rubbed Leo’s back in silence for a few moments. Leo felt him draw in a long, slow breath. “Good…”

Finn seemed to have felt the disturbance, too, because he cleared his throat and rolled onto his back. They both looked to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt himself. The pillows he’d been sleeping with along his bad side to keep him from rolling onto his shoulder were still in place.

“Does he look okay?” Leo whispered, eyes darting over the sling.

“Ouais.” Logan, his arm free, rolled towards Leo until his leg was over Leo’s hip and his arm drawn tight around his back. They were face to face now and Leo got a ticklish face full of curls when Logan bent to kiss his neck, then his chin, then a quick peck to his mouth. He said nothing, though, and Leo wasn’t sure if this was just Logan being Logan, or some sort of apology. Leo wasn’t even sure he wanted an apology. He didn’t want Logan to feel like he’d done anything wrong. He wanted this weight on his chest gone.

“Reg was there?” Logan asked. At Leo’s confused look he said, “Saw some pictures on Natalie’s instagram.”

“Oh. Yeah.” It had been nice, being with friends and not just on the rink. He felt like the last week had been consumed by a fog of worry and hurt. Being away from Finn, hearing his voice on the phone, weak and tired sounding.

Him and Logan feeling awkward in New York.

Leo leaving without saying goodbye.

He regretted that. He really regretted that. He’d hated himself all the way home.

He should be saying sorry to Logan. About getting mad about the soup, about being quiet, about leaving.

Logan was all tensed up in his arms. Worried. Trying to test the waters without jumping in. Trying to gauge Leo.

Logan’s heart was going a mile a minute beneath Leo’s fist and Leo couldn’t help it. He lay his palm over his chest and rubbed his thumb over the pounding.

Logan drew in a breath. “Le…Desolé.” Logan pressed his forehead against Leo’s sighing. “I’m so sorry, mon amour. I’m a mess, and—and I love you. And I’m a mess, this is hard and…”

Something in Leo loosened.

“The soup thing was stupid of me,” Logan continued. “And I didn’t mean to ignore you and…” Logan pressed harder, his whispers shaky. “This scares me. So bad. And I know it’s not just me, but I…I didn’t get to take care of him the last times. Not like I really wanted, and part of me just—jumped for it. I needed to know I could do it, I think. Do it the right way.”

So, all this quiet, all this tension in Logan’s muscles, had been him trying to gather the words.

“Mais—but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you can. Of course you can.” Logan pulled back some to look at him. “None of this is your fault, okay? And I’m so sorry.”

The right words. The English words. Leo should have known.

“Me too,” Leo said. “I didn’t mean to snap at you that night and… I hated myself for leaving New York like that the second it did it.”

Logan shook his head. He drew a thumb over Leo’s lip and Leo felt it shake, just a little. “I should have come sooner.”

“I should have waited for you. God, I…” Leo worried he had lost them that game and now they were facing elimination and—

And then Finn was moving again, pushing a hand over Logan’s arm in his sleep until Logan fell back onto his back so Finn could settle on his chest again. He sighed in his sleep, mouth open. Leo looked up at Logan and they both smiled a little. This time, Leo settled his head on Logan’s chest without needing to be told. Logan put a hand in both their hair.

“I really feel like I…” Leo looked for the words, too. “I rely on him to be…”

“Happy,” Logan nodded. “Je sais, I know.”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “But is that good of me? I…Just—not even just happy, but like, solid and upbeat and…joking, making me laugh. And then when he’s not it…like something is wrong. Really wrong.”

Logan took his time answering. Leo leaned into the feeling of his fingers stroking through his hair. Finn’s breathing was gentle. Peaceful. He seemed so content, resting against Logan, ear over his heart. Letting himself be held.

“The first time,” Logan finally began. “I hadn’t even known him that long. But it was so weird. I couldn’t figure out why I was so scared every time he didn’t smile.”

“Mhm,” Leo said softly. He wanted more. He wanted to hear.

“We slept like this every night,” Logan whispered. Leo felt him shift, mouth and nose against Finn’s hair. “I was so terrified someone would see us, but I never moved. Not once. I think that’s the only time I never backed down. Or backed out. Maybe both.”

Leo pressed a kiss to Logan’s chest through his t-shirt.

“He would only eat this one canned soup and only if we put, like, so much pepper in it. Knutty, it was insane. You would have hated how much pepper. Only pepper.”

Leo smiled a little. “He does like pepper.”

“It was kind of freaky, like he couldn’t taste it otherwise or something. But he said it just cleared his nose up so I was like, okay. He loves your soup. I tried to get some, like, sushi delivery into him or something and he wasn’t having it.”

Leo smiled. “He’s gonna get so sick of it.”

“Non, don’t think so.” Logan’s thumb was making small tracks across his neck. “And he couldn’t read or anything, like his homework. So I read to him.”

Leo smiled. “He’s the reader.”

“He interrupted all the time. It’s like going inside his mind. It’s—the only thing better I can think of is watching you two read.”

Finn sighed in his sleep like he’d heard. Leo touched the curl of his fingers poking out of the sling. “Did he fight you then? Trying to take care of him.”

“Not for the first couple days,” Logan said, then his chest rose and fell with a sigh of his own. “But once he starts feeling better its harder. Like tonight. Followed me everywhere.”

Leo turned his head up to Logan and smiled softly. “He did that to me, too. Followed me right into the shower and—”

Logan darted a mocking little glare towards Finn. “Oh, he tried that on you, too?”

“Almost gave in, to be honest.”

Logan grinned and leaned a little closer. “Would’ve like to see that. But same. Took me a bit to realize how badly he needed to lie down.”

“Good thing we’re Harzy-whisperers,” Leo whispered against his lips.

Logan’s laugh was quiet and his kiss was tender. “Finn-fluent.”

Finn made a sound, a little hum followed by a soft snort.

“Ouais, Harz,” Logan whispered. “Your blowjob efforts failed.”

Leo suppressed a laugh and reached up for Logan’s jaw, turning him down into another kiss. Logan’s mouth was soft, a little sleepy maybe, but he opened Leo’s lips gently and squeezed him closer by his shoulders.

“I love you,” Leo whispered. “And I…I like hearing about it. The two of you, before me.”

“It doesn’t compare to the three of us,” Logan said.

“I know. I just don’t want you to think I don’t know that, I just felt…I felt like I would never live up to it for a moment.”

Logan’s brow knit. His skin and eyes took on the darkness. He lit it up, blue and green, and for a moment Leo was lost.Like this, Leo could almost imagine it. Knowing Logan back then. Knowing Finn. Having even more time than he would already be given. He was selfish for those years.

“He used to leave his backpack unzipped,” Logan said. He pet a hand through Finn’s hair and it was almost fond.

Leo smiled. “Oh no.”

“He would probably get all the way to class like that if I didn’t tell him every time. Shit falling out behind him.”

It was a sweet image, Logan catching Finn’s things. It was always Fall when Leo imagined them there, he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because of the sweatshirts they wore around the apartment, the maroon color, or the idea of school, just something that started in September.

“He’s never late for anything,” Leo whispered.

Logan smiled. “Not now, maybe. I used to wake up to him banging his hip on the dresser every morning while he rushed around.”

Leo reached down and put a hand on Finn’s waist, dipped a little with the way he was curved against Logan. “He still does that.”

“And you already know about our bagel place,” Logan said. “And his insane order.”

“It’s not so insane,” Leo said. “Plenty of people like capers that much.”

“Ouais,” Logan said. “But I only know one.”

Leo’s laugh was too loud for the time, and he turned his head into Logan’s chest.

“Là, take over for a second,” Logan said. “I’ve had to pee for two hours.”

“Hurry back.”

Logan eased Finn off of his shoulder with kisses and plenty of pillows, and Leo slid over into the warm spot left behind by him until Finn’s cheek rested against his chest instead.

“Hm…” Finn pressed his nose against Leo’s neck. By the kiss he placed there, Leo was sure Finn thought he was Logan still but he enjoyed it anyway.

“If I’m here, will you fall asleep okay?” Finn mumbled. When Leo hesitated in replying, Finn pressed his cheek harder against his chest. “Can I sleep here, Le?”

“Oh. Oh, yeah,” Leo said, throat tight. “Of course, sweetheart.” He pressed his nose into Finn’s hair. “Of course you can.”

“Did the boats leave?”

Leo arched a brow. “Uh. What?”

“I gave them the money,” Finn mumbled. “No one ran to the top.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t… What?”

But Finn didn’t reply, just breathed out, fast asleep.

Logan came back in, switching off the bathroom light.

“Did he used to talk in his sleep?” Leo whispered.

Logan paused with a knee on the bed. “Non. Did he just?”

Leo tried not to laugh, nodding. “Something about boats and money.”

Logan made a half-bewildered noise and lay down against Leo’s side. “There’s a lot going on in that brain.”

“There is,” Leo said. He had Finn’s head on one shoulder, Logan’s on the other. The game might’ve been tomorrow, but he’d reclaimed his prizes tonight.

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