#this fic is so special in my heart <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[horsegirlwarcrimes]

Alright, you have answered me again (SY gets two daemons sounds extremely interesting! The "what the fuck happened to Shen Qingqiu" Peak Lord meeting in this AU is going to have some shit to talk about, huh!) so now I'm moving on to the next in my list of WIPs I'm really super curious about - Scooby Gang Juniors? Juniors fics are so fun what shenanigans are they getting into?

auw im literally dead u r so kind ( ;´ - `;)♡

scooby gang juniors, actual title some 'Never Love An Anchor' lyrics bc thats the theme song of this fic, is actually the first longfic i ever started writing! it has also been a WIP for mmm. four years or so. i started writing it right after watching the untamed for the first time in 2019 lmao, but never finished it because at that point id never written ANYTHING as long as it was gearing up to be (the outline is 20k). i hope to finally finish it and post it some time soon, probs after WINR and the ZZL&YQY fics are done. its probs some of my fav writing ive ever done but never shared with anyone haha

summary: Wei Wuxian may have drafted a ritual for willingly bringing someone back from the dead somewhere in his madness in the caves of the Burial Mounds, but if he did it was never found. In the absence of a convenient literal ghost from the past to help exact his revenge, Nie Huaisang turns to the next best thing: his old friend's son.

Meanwhile, Lan Sizhui finds a man buried deep underground with soft, familiar eyes.

[Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Ouyang Zizhen, and Wen Ning go on a life changing field trip, dodge their worried parents, and dig up some corpses, in approximately that order.]

“When I realized how deeply affected by the Yiling Patriarch Hanguang-Jun was, I began to realize where this slip in righteousness had come from. You see, while I and the rest of the cultivation world believed that Lan Wangji had been in secluded cultivation for three years to move to a new level in his cultivation, or because he had been wounded fighting the Yiling Patriarch, the truth is much the opposite. Hanguang-Jun was in seclusion as punishment, for siding with the Yiling Patriarch at the Siege of the Burial Mounds. All along, these famed enemies had secretly been allied.”  Jin Guangyao shook his head, expression deeply sympathetic even as the cultivators of the room began to turn to Hanguang-Jun. Hands went to swords, only remaining undrawn due to the thick tension in the room that had yet to break. Hanguang-Jun stood immovable through it all, flawless as jade and cold as ice.  “I believe the Yiling Patriarch must have altered his mind, and had been using his demonic arts to corrupt him as far back as the Sunshot campaign. Now, with the feared patriarch dead, it seems this would no longer be such an issue. But Wei Wuxian left one final plan even after his death, a fail-safe to bring ruin to the cultivation world once again even when he was long gone, and he entrusted that plan to Hanguang-Jun before his death.”  At last, his eyes met Sizhui’s again. Sizhui’s mouth tasted electric, the buzz of the room crashing into him in waves even as it narrowed just to himself, his uncle at his back, his father, and the man before him. He inhaled through his nose and straightened, perfect Lan posture and the ribbon on his forehead proudly on display. He narrowed his eyes back at Jin Guanyao and did not drop his gaze. Jin Guangyao smiled, a flicker of amusement, before he regained his expression of earnest concern to address the crowd.  “I found proof in the records of the Wen work camps, and writings recovered from the Nightless City. You see, Lan Sizhui, ward of Hanguang-Jun and First Disciple of Gusu Lan, was neither a war orphan nor a poorly concealed bastard, but instead a child smuggled out of the Burial Mounds before the siege.”  Jin Guangyao swept a sleeve over Sizhui’s group.  “Honored cultivators, I stand before you to reveal the surviving heir of the Qishan Wen Sect. Called Lan Sizhui but born Wen Yuan, the son of Wen Xu and his first concubine. Cousin of the Ghost General, and former ward of the Yiling Patriarch, already beginning the work of reviving the Wen and overwhelming the righteous sects with demonic cultivators.”  In the chaos, only one voice cut so bitingly through the noise. Calm and cold and sure, Sizhui latched onto it with all his heart. Anything to avoid looking behind him, at the friends he had lied to.  “So you admit it.” Said Hanguang-Jun, unmoving from his spot amidst the Lan. Jin Guangyao blinked wide eyes at him.  “I’m sorry?”  Hanguang-Jun stepped forward. Even with his name being almost literally dragged through the mud, cultivators still parted around him with automatic deference.  “You admit you knew children were being tortured, in your work camps.” 

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

I CAN'T CLOSE MY EYES ALONE ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; arguing with satoru is always exhausting. bitter and spiteful, you leave him in the bedroom and go find another place to sleep; your couch would be the obvious choice, but where’s the fun in that?

word count; 4.2k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, f!reader (he calls you ’stubborn girl’ n ’pretty girl’ but other than that it’s gn!!), toru and reader have a fight, reader sleeps in the bathtub (don’t ask it came to me in a vision), hurt/comfort, he's doing his best :<, fluff!!

a/n; smth abt …. arguing w satoru gojo ……. idk why the concept has possessed me in the way that it has i just think hurt/comfort w toru is <33

okay, so maybe this wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had.

in your defense, you weren’t exactly thinking straight; fueled by spite, eager to get far away, and admittedly a little curious as to how it would feel, the decision was made almost purely on impulse. and stupidity, probably.

it’s not comfortable at all.

maybe it could be. maybe if you had just a couple more pillows, a fluffier blanket with a cozier texture. maybe if you had something soft to put beneath you, another blanket or a comforter or — whatever. maybe if you had a warm cup of tea to drink. maybe if you had something warm to hug to sleep. 

or someone.

(aw, what’s wrong? can’t sleep without me after all, huh?)

— nope. you are not going back there. 

just the thought of how smug he’d get makes you bite the inside of your cheek, increasing your already growing frustrations. in desperate search of a more comfortable position, you nuzzle further into the pillow, but nothing works.

your limbs feel stiff, and your bones can’t seem to relax, a discomforting numbness seeping into your spine. and it’s cold. the feeling of porcelain against your skin keeps you tossing and turning, akin to an icy winter breeze, caressing the apple of your cheek. 

still, there’s simply no other option. under absolutely no circumstances can you turn back now. not when you’ve come this far, when you can almost begin to sense an inkling of sleep’s familiar call, the drowsy flutter of your eyelashes.

it takes time, and perseverance — but eventually, the road to sleep does seem to brighten on the horizon. crawling closer and closer, lulling you into its embrace, while all you can do is lie there. completely at its mercy, exhaustion ghosting your subconscious, eyelids ripe with fatigue. 

slowly but surely, your consciousness begins to fade. tenderly, soothingly, like a curtain over your eyes being slowly unveiled. you can almost taste it, on the tip of your tongue; sleep is only a moment away.

soon, you’ll fall into that cozy abyss. and then you’ll open your eyes, and the morning sun will greet you. it’ll be a new day, a better day.

so you keep your eyes closed, and sink a little further into the plush of your pillow, and —

the light flickers on.

in the state you’re in, tiptoeing on the edge between dreams and reality, so tantalizingly close to falling asleep, the brightness is positively grating. even through your shut eyes, it invades your senses — a glow so irritating it’s startling. the bathroom lights mock you with their shine, illuminating your figure, curled up in the tiny bathtub. 

the whine you let out is involuntary, coaxed out from deep within your throat, as the uncomfortable sensation rouses you from your would-be slumber.

satoru raises an unimpressed eyebrow, where he stands by the door.

chest bare, wearing only a flimsy pair of sleeping shorts, he looks at you with tired eyes. exasperation painted onto his dishevelled features. then he clicks his tongue, voice raspy and rich with fatigue.

”you’re ridiculous.”

the judgemental tilt of his voice only makes the annoyance in your veins bubble up once more, just when it was finally about to dwindle. eyes squeezed shut to escape the burn of the artificial light, you let out a sharp wince, burrowing your face deeper into the pillow. 

”turn it off!”

ignoring your angry plea, satoru makes his way over to you. with long, slow strides, vaguely uncoordinated steps. just a little clumsy. he plops down on the edge of the bathtub, and gazes down at you.

you’re lying on your side, arms wrapped around a fluffy cushion, knees against your chest. under the illumination of the bathroom lights, he can see you clearly; messy hair that he yearns to ruffle, a crease between your brows that he yearns to smooth away.

you look awfully uncomfortable, to no one’s surprise. he isn’t sure what else you were expecting. 

despite the sting of the bright lights, you force your eyes open — only to give satoru a halfhearted glare, an attempt at appearing intimidating. though you somehow doubt it’ll work.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, satoru tilts his head. soft locks of white hair follow the movement, falling over his eyes, a little more tousled than usual. like he’s been tossing and turning, sprawled out on the bedroom mattress.

and, just like you suspected, the dirty look you send his way doesn’t seem to scare him off. not even in the slightest. if anything, you think you catch a flicker of lazy amusement dancing through his eyes. and it irks you, it does — an itch beneath your skin, a taste of irritation on your tongue.

because satoru is looking at you like you’re somehow in the wrong, here, like you’re the one acting out. as if he isn’t the reason you’re here in the first place.

at this point, you barely even remember what the fight was about. too sleep-deprived to recall it properly, too stressed to make a genuine attempt. all you remember is getting ready for bed, and the familiar sensation of frustration prickling your skin. you remember his pretty little grin, his teasing remarks and refusal to take you seriously.

remember the way he laughed, when you told him what was bothering you; the crinkle of his eyes, the warmth of his hands reaching over to squish your cheeks. a little patronizing.

(there was no malicious intent behind it, that much you know. he probably just wanted to lighten the mood. but it irked you, all the same. hurt you, maybe. just a little bit.)

then you remember storming out. grabbing a blanket and pillow and telling him to sleep on his own, if that’s how he was going to be. the words felt cold as they left your mouth, little breathy icicles. and then you left.

which is why you’re here, right now. curled up in your goddamn bathtub, for some reason that still escapes you, trying desperately to get even a wink of sleep without your boyfriend there to help.

and that’s also why satoru is here, back a tad slouched as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, looking at you like you’re some misbehaving cat. blinking slowly, drowsily, dragged down by the fatigue clinging to his eyelashes. 

(he can’t sleep, either.)

”you’re really gonna sleep in there?” he sighs, after a moment’s pause. any honest concern in his voice is almost entirely overshadowed by the sense of admonition that follows it.

a scoff falls from your lips, sharp like a razorblade. ”yes,” you deadpan, shifting to lie on your stomach, hiding away from his insistent view. ”i was sleeping just fine before you barged in here.”

satoru shoots you a look, thoroughly unimpressed, entirely unconvinced of your blatant lie. ”you’re being dumb,” he huffs. ”at least sleep on the couch.”

”i don’t wanna hear that from you,” comes a hiss, low and disgruntled. a growing irritation. ”and i’m comfortable where i am.”

another dissatisfied huff. why are you being so irrational? he just doesn’t get it. scrambling for excuses, satoru tries his hand at another tactic. 

”you’ll hurt your back.”

another little scoff. oh, so now he suddenly cares? you can’t believe him. 

”so what?”

a moment passes. satoru bites his lip, teeth sinking softly into the flesh; a little pang of ache, but it’s nothing compared to the twist of discomfort in his chest. you’re making this more difficult than it has to be, he thinks. always so stubborn. 

what is he supposed to say? how is he supposed to convince you to come back to bed, when you’re already so set on denying him?

god, he’s tired. he just wants to sleep, close his jaded eyes. just wants to not have to think, for a couple hours, curled up with the only person who makes him feel safe. just wants to dream in soft shapes.

but if you aren’t there, then…

a deep sigh. weary, annoyed. ”c’mon,” he coaxes, blinking sluggishly. ”you know you won’t be able to fall asleep without me. can’t we just make up already?”

your nails dig into the fabric of your blanket. every word he says only seems to deepen the sense of irritation plaguing your sleep-deprived mind.

it makes you want to shut him out, bury your head in the soft sheets and forget about everything else. he keeps acting like you’re just overreacting, like you wanted to have an argument. like he wasn’t the one who made you upset and then laughed at you about it. 

”i don’t need you to fall asleep,” you grumble, muffled by the pillow in your grasp, arms tightening around it. nuzzling deeper into the soft velvet comfort.

satoru’s fingers twitch, as if urging him to pull you close. he almost glares at the cushion in your arms, that you’re hugging so fondly, putting all your body weight on — snuggling into it in search of comfort and warmth.

(that should be his chest.)

the gears in his head turn, slowly and mechanically, as he brings a hand up to card through his hair.

satoru hates seeing you so upset, so far away from him. having to watch you close yourself off, not allowing him to be near, soothe you and take care of you. kiss all your worries away. that’s all he wants to do, everything he needs to keep himself whole, to keep himself from being devoured by an exhaustion he’s lived with for as long as he can remember.

a strong frustration gnaws at his conscience. a certain desperation.

a big, heavy sigh leaves his lips. it bounces off the walls of the bathroom, the white tiles and shiny mirror, as he drags it out. almost childishly. then he’s angling his body to face you properly, big hands resting on his knees, a determined gaze set on your figure.

”look, i’m sorry,” he starts, rigid and earnest. blinking once, twice, chasing away the drowsy weight of his eyelids. ”i shouldn’t have laughed.”

your ears perk up.

shifting to your side as if hoping to hear him better, you peek up at him through half-lidded eyes. almost in disbelief, a kind of hope sprouting in the corners of your dilated pupils.

is he genuinely going to apologize, you wonder? admit that he was in the wrong? does he actually feel bad?

a moment passes. slow, drawn out, until satoru’s voice spills into the air again.

”there. i apologized,” he exhales, a little gruff. annoyed. ”now will you please just come to bed?”

…

wow. 

okay, nevermind. you hope the ceiling fan falls on him.

beneath your skin, a mellow kind of anger bubbles up, blood slowly coming to a boiling point. he’s not sorry at all. of course he isn’t. you were stupid to think he’d actually give you a sincere apology, stupid to think he’d do the one thing that would actually make you want to fall back into his comforting embrace. stupid, stupid. 

clenching your teeth, nails digging into the velvet fabric of the pillow, your eyelids flutter shut once more. only this time, you don’t plan on opening them again — at least not until morning comes. not until you see the sunkissed tiles of the bathroom, until the ache inside your chest has passed.

”satoru,” you enunciate, frigid and final. ”just let me sleep. we can talk tomorrow.” a beat. the tiniest grumble resounds from your lips, tinged with exhaustion. ”i’m too tired for this.”

under his breath, satoru winces. that palpable fatigue in your words sends a tremor running through his chest, discomforting, a shiver of his heart. you won’t look at him anymore, and the hint of finality in your tone makes him feel slightly dejected.

god, he’s awful at this. sincerity has never been his strong suit. he’s gotten better, lately, but it’s still so very foreign.

he didn’t mean to make you angry, didn’t mean to upset you. didn’t mean for the lilt of his voice to make his apology sound insincere. but that’s still what happened.

and satoru isn’t quite sure what to do. 

he’s tired. eyes heavy with lost sleep, glimpses of would-be nightmares he knows he’d have were he to fall asleep right now. an anxious lump has long since formed in the back of his throat, and he misses you. misses your presence, your warmth. misses the feeling of having you close, the knowledge that you haven’t left yet.

(without you, he can’t —)

a sigh. soft, and resigned, flowing from his lips.

the inner turmoil in satoru’s mind begins to fade, slowly but surely, smoothed away by the sight of you. bundled up in a blanket too small to cover you properly, lying in that cold and cramped bathtub, discomfort evident in your features. sadness dripping from the bitter words you grace him with.

so out of reach, too far for him to follow, a boundary he wants to cross more than anything. but something about that meek expression makes him falter, makes his heart twist and turn inside his ribcage.

(he knows that you’re tired, too.)

so satoru swallows his pride.

the words are spoken in a whisper, hushed, through a voice so low you wouldn’t hear it if the silence of the bathroom wasn’t so suffocating. a soft lilt of his voice, bare and raw. meek, in a way that makes him want to crawl under a rock and die. but it’s there, and he lets you hear it; that soft little truth.

”… i can’t sleep without you.”

satoru doesn’t look at you. his confession rings in your ears, laced together with a softness you’ve come to associate with warm spring mornings and rooms so dark you can’t see his face. moments in which satoru feels safe. safe enough to be sincere.

— inevitably, your heart begins to soften.

(he’s trying. it’s difficult for him, but he’s really trying. sincerity and honesty are things that have been used against him all his life, so it’s no wonder he’d be scared.)

it’s very hard to stay mad at him, when he sounds like that. when his words come out sounding a little too much like a plea, a silent call for help. 

with hesitance, you allow your eyes to flutter open, shifting a little to get a better look at him. he’s there, staring into space — the man you’ve grown to love so dearly. his tousled white hair, those slightly forlorn eyes. the vague darkness beneath them, slightly puffy skin. that tired, tired expression. 

satoru taps the edge of the tub with the pads of his fingers, absentmindedly. index finger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over.

then, at last, he meets your gaze. and you think he swallows down a gulp, before smiling — it’s a pretty smile, somewhat tiny. a little sheepish, but awfully sincere. awfully satoru.

he tilts his head, gazing into your eyes with a tenderness that melts your heart to the marrow.

”… please?”

a second passes. then two. 

soft and melodic, your heartbeat resounds in your ears, akin to a lullaby. like the call of a siren, coaxing you into giving in. and you’re weak, you realize, so very weak. just a smile and a tilt of his head, and you’re rendered utterly helpless. 

(he’s just too pretty.)

without fully realizing it yourself, you’ve begun to move, dragging yourself up with sluggish motions. blanket still draped over your shoulders, and pillow snug against your chest, you blink. drowsily, slowly. a little meekly. 

and satoru brightens.

it’s visible, in the way he physically perks up, back straightening, smile finally reaching his aquamarine eyes. a blend between hope and affection sprouts in them, slathered over with something honeyed.

a soft grin blooms on his lips, and he opens his arms wide — silently beckoning you to fall into his embrace. a raspy coo tiptoes on his tongue. 

”c’mere.”

before you can make a move to do so, satoru leans over. scooping you up with ease, as if you weigh absolutely nothing, tucking you into his warm embrace. smothering you in his cushiony chest.

almost instinctively, your arms go to wrap around his neck, cheek smushed against the warm skin of his shoulder. if you strain your ears, you think you can hear the soft patter of his heartbeat. he smells of the tiramisu you ate before going to bed, and just a hint of expensive cologne. he smells of comfort.

satoru is soft, and warm, and everything you need right now. lulling you back into that cozy, sleepy state. your very own personal dose of melanin.

with a big palm on the small of your back, satoru keeps you pressed up against his chest, as if you could change your mind and try to escape at any moment. he stands up, still holding you, and hikes your legs around his waist. breathing out a satisfied hum, before turning on his heel.

satoru smiles, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. ”let’s get you back to bed, baby.”

after turning the bathroom lights off, he begins to walk to your shared bedroom, still carrying you with one arm. always so strong and reliable. you know for a fact that he’s not going to drop you, so you opt to close your tired eyes; stretching out your limbs, lazily, releasing a quiet yawn that makes his lips curl up.

despite your lingering frustration, you find yourself nuzzling into the crook of his neck — and satoru coos, so painfully soft that you barely even hear it. the restlessness inside his own chest washed away, by the familairity of your body against his.

and before you know it, he’s dropped you down on the mattress. gently, but still enough to make you feel a little jostled, so close to falling asleep in his arms. he drags the blanket up to cover you, tucking you in; this one is bigger, with a fluffier texture, enough to cover you both with ease.

smiling softly at the sight of you all cozy, content in the knowledge that you’re finally comfortable, satoru crawls beneath the blanket and takes his rightful place beside you. eyes crinkled at the corners, rich with affection.

two strong arms reach around your waist, to pull you flush against him, until your head meets his chest and you can hear the soft thrumming of his heartstrings. then he sighs, in pure bliss, thoroughly content. melting into your embrace, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head, nuzzling into the warmth that seeps from your body to his.

he runs his big hands down your back, affectionately, rubbing circles into your skin. coaxing you into melting a little, too.

”see, isn’t this much better?” he smiles, a little cheeky. such a tease.

”… the bathtub was fine.”

a chuckle rumbles through his chest, rich with fondness. his hand goes to card through your hair, nimble fingers smoothing down your scalp and running through the soft strands. every touch gentle, full of care. every word soaked in a syrupy sweetness.

”stubborn girl.”

despite your best wishes, you’re too tired to bite back the blissful sigh that leaves your lips. a part of you still wants to protest, to push him away —

but then you start leaning into his touch. helpless to his warm hands, his soothing voice. satoru is just a little too good at making you melt. so good that you finally begin to let your guard down, nuzzling into his bare skin, sinking a little further into the mattress. 

and satoru stifles a coo. 

”honestly,” he sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. ”sleeping in the bathtub… you’re so silly.”

before you have a chance to respond, he’s pulling back — ever so slightly, just to get a better look at your face. arms looped around his neck, you blink up at him with droopy eyes, and he can’t resist the dopey grin that sneaks its way onto his lips. doesn’t even begin to try, when you look so unbearably sweet.

unable to stop himself, he broaches the distance between you, leaning close to kiss the top of your nose. and you squeeze your eyes shut at the gesture, face scrunching up, but it only makes him chuckle. smiling, honey-sweet, he admires your sleepy pout. soaks up every soft little grumble that slips from your lips.

his hand comes to cradle your cheek, thumb smoothing down your cheekbone. just gazing at you, taking you in, every single contour of your face. there is only adoration in his eyes. something silently delighted, that seeps into his words, his raspy voice.

”my pretty, pretty girl.”

a heat rushes to your cheeks. looking up at him, into those lovesick eyes, you can’t help but grow flustered.

he looks so content.

all you manage is a weak furrow of your brows, pressing a palm against his bare skin. softly, as if pushing him away, forehead meeting his chest with a soft bonk. hiding away, so he won’t see how much his words affect you.

”lemme sleep, toru…” you mumble, stifling a yawn.

unfortunately, your boyfriend is not one to give in so easily. before long, his fingertips are trailing across the skin of your jaw, coaxing you into lifting your chin. and you’re too sleepy to resist — practically melting, as he begins to smear openmouthed kisses all over your face. all you can do is close your eyes, attempting to ignore the sound of his exaggerated mwahs, frowning in a silent disapproval that you know you don’t actually mean.

satoru notices it, though. he always does.

”you still mad at me, baby?” he asks, in a way that sounds a little like he’s cooing at you. there’s a teasing tilt to his voice, but it’s also a genuine question. your frown deepens.

averting your gaze with a soft huff, even as he cradles your jaw with his slender fingers, a pout plays at your lips. under his kind eyes, you feel just a bit meek — recalling your argument from before. absentmindedly, you fidget with the waistband of his shorts, hoping to ease your nerves.

despite your valiant efforts to direct your vocal cords in a different direction, the voice that spills from your lips comes out sounding just a tad hurt.

”… you never take me seriously.”

satoru’s eyes soften.

his smile falters, by a hair, a brief stilling of movement. subtle, but hard not to pick up on. there’s a certain sense of shame in his irises, a genuine guilt stirring his heartstrings; several discomforting sensations, gnawing at the bones of his ribcage.

(you look so small.)

two hands reach out to cup your cheeks, big and warm. swallowing up your whole face. and before you can react, satoru leans in to press a sweet, chaste kiss against your lips. he tastes like tiramisu. 

”’m sorry. we can talk about it tomorrow, okay?” he hums, and you can tell that he means it. ”i promise that i’ll take you seriously. for real, this time.”

as you look into those eyes of his, blue and soft around the edges, the last of your frustration is finally washed away. with a meek downward glance, and a faint nod, satoru relaxes — releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. relieved at your silent forgiveness.

tomorrow, he’ll definitely make it up to you. he’ll hear you out, without opening his big mouth, or trying to skirt around any emotions that make him feel even slightly uncomfortable. smoothing a big palm down your back, he hopes you feel it as a silent apology. 

for now, he’ll just hold you. he’ll hold you, and kiss all your worries away, and keep you comfy and warm. that’s his duty. the only one he’d willingly choose, the only weight on his shoulders that never feels even a little bit suffocating. the only one he wouldn’t cast away, if given the chance.

nuzzling back into the safety of his collarbone, your heartbeat settles into a drowsy rhythm, slow and serene. satoru squeezes you in a tight hug, reassuring. comforting.

he can be a handful, and a little insensitive, but you love him a lot. you can’t imagine not loving him. 

”… goodnight, toru,” you whisper. ready to give into sleep’s call, at last.

satoru smiles. you can hear it in his voice, sweet and silky, a soft curl of his lips. ”goodnight, honey,” he presses a kiss against your shoulder. warm, his breath on your skin. ”i love you.”

a yawn escapes your throat. ”love you too…” you mumble, sleepily. that one soft truth, before your consciousness fades.

and satoru’s smile only grows. hopelessly, inevitably, in the same way his hands can’t help but to bring you closer. until your heart is flush against his own, and he swears he can feel your heartbeats synchronize.

finally, with those three little words, satoru should be able to go to sleep. drifting off, he can only hope you’ll still be in his arms by the time he awakens.

(then again; you always are, aren’t you?)

[callistoscope]

harvey’s one and only kink is being loved. Tenderly.

[tyrasanege]

Fan made comic cover for first chapter of Wobbly Hearts by @ninja-knox-ur-sox-off

without tittle

only hand

My reaction when I first saw Wobbly Hearts

Me: huh, just another fic but with my favorite headcanon about Kai. Probable isn't that bad, and author will not take seriously about read problems.

Me fue minutes later

Me: oh...

[b-o-e]

silly lil wally things :) Wally Darling x Reader

this is a list of my wally fics. these can be read as oneshots, although they are also written to be readable as a series, including specific nods towards prior fics and such. although it is not necessary, it is highly recommended to read them in the following order. enjoy!!

snorrrk mimimi - When you wake up in the morning, something is different…

paint me like one of your french girls - You weren’t the best painter, nor were you the best at picking up hints…

alone with you - You and Wally sneak away for a breath of fresh air, providing the perfect opportunity to try to get your feelings off your chest.

the plan - Wally, desperate to get you to pick up on his feelings for you, sits down to try and sort out a plan with his wingmen.

late night confessions - The phone ringing late at night allows opportunity to come knocking.

sleepy phone call - You find yourself unable to fall asleep, leading you to call Wally in the late hours of the night.

promise - Wally convinces you to sleep over for the night.

kiss farewell - After a night spent at Wally's, he walks you home.

town gossip - News spread quickly about you and Wally, but what actually are you?

first date - Wally asks you out in a date, but little does he know.

alone with you, take two - Jealousy isn’t a frequent feeling for Wally, but sometimes, things get on his nerves.

(done.)

these can also all be found on my ao3.

I have a ko-fi as well, if you would like to support me!!

thank you so much to everyone for your support on my works so far. i truly, deeply appreciate everything. it means the world to me, as do you <3 have a wonderful day!!

Posted Tuesday, May 9, 2023, at 10:16 PM

[binarybitex]

old cardboard castles art master post!! 📢

here's david standing in the doorway from this specific snippet. he's feeling......... guilty. scared, maybe.

some promos i did. i might redraw the first one in my current style, i like that its a polaroid to fit with david's picture taking knack.

when i first started releasing chapters, i did these scene mockups in the style of the actual show. the purple sketchy one is an unfinished redraw from 2023 :]

a max turnaround, trying to stay true to the shows style ofc. max and his walmart leather jacket lmaooo

this one is literally based off ONE fucking line in the entire thing. i just thought it was cutie patootie

and lastly, the cover for the print edition i did for christmas 2021. i loved how these turned out, but it's a shame they didn't print out this well!! oh well, it was a lovely learning experience.

[gomzdrawfr]

me, staring at my shelf then at my google doc:

"would it be weird if Price owns like, a volkswagen type 2 truck and use that to bring em to fishing..."

[iluvchick3nz]

I swear someone asked for a fic about the first time the Cubs saw each other cry, BUT I THINK I DELETED IT I AM SO SO SO SORRY!! :(((( However, I still wrote it, so whoever it was, here is my gift to you. Giving you a big virtual hug!!

There are some canon times we do see them cry, so I took some liberty with this. So these are SOME of the first moments we see them cry with one another, as I have imagined them.

Side note, it was REALLY hard to come up with something that would make Finn really upset. I feel like, for him to cry, something needs to really rock his boat (like Logan getting traded), sooooo... I made him sick. Sorry, Harzy, I guess. He is not very good at being sick.

Enjooooy!!!! All credits to @lumosinlove <3

Mid-April 2019

The bar was a bit loud, Logan thought, even for a Friday night. There was a rowdy group of people on the other side of the room, and the bass of whatever was on the jukebox was pounding in his skull, making his jaw tingle. It was a rare Friday night out, their last one before the playoffs, and Logan was committed to enjoying himself. He took a sip of his rum and coke, eyeing Leo where he was talking with Thomas and Remus over at a high top. His blonde curls were stuck with sweat to his forehead, his cheeks flushed in the same way they did on the ice, in the gym- in bed, Logan now knew. 

Living with him and Finn was like living a dream every day of his life. While they couldn't be together in public quite yet, they could be together at home, in the apartment they shared that smelled like the three of them, with Leo's pristine kitchen and Finn's overflowing bookshelf. He scanned their corner, looking for a familiar shade of red, when he felt an arm come across his shoulders.

“Hey, you,” Finn said. His gesture was platonic, but he said everything Logan needed to know with his eyes. The corners of which, Logan noticed, were a bit strained. “How we doing?”

Logan nodded, brow furrowed. “Good. Rouge, you okay?”

Finn bit the inside of his cheek, gripping Logan's shoulder harder. “Yeah, feeling- feeling a bit dizzy, though.”

Logan turned, grabbing Finn's biceps to get a good look at him. “Merde, rouge, you're pale.”

Finn winked, but it wasn't convincing. “You already knew that, Lo.”

Logan made a noise in his throat. “Non, you're really pale.” He pressed his palm to Finn's forehead. “And hot, fuck. You have a fever.”

“No, I'm fine, I-”

“Non, Fish, we've gotta go home.” He turned to face away briefly. “Leo!”

Leo turned abruptly, his bright smile falling as he saw Logan's expression. He excused himself, then came over hurriedly. “What's wrong?”

Logan stepped aside to allow him to look at Finn. “Rouge has a fever.”

Leo immediately put his own palm to Finn's forehead, wincing as their skin connected. “Shit, Harz, you're burning. Does your stomach hurt?””

Finn rolled his eyes. “Only a little-”

“What'd you have to drink? Did you eat anything funny?”

Finn huffed. “I had one beer, and lunch at the rink and you cooked me dinner. I swear, I'm fine!”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “Spring flu is going around. Kuny was out with it last week, remember? We should go home.”

“But it's our last night out before the playoffs, and-”

“Ah,” Leo said, in a very good impression of his mother. “I don't want to hear it.” He took Finn under his arm and steered him towards the door. “Let's go. Time to go home.”

They called out their goodbyes over their shoulders, Remus narrowing his eyes, concerned. “All good?”

Logan shrugged. “Rouge doesn't feel so good. We're taking him home.”

“Let me and Coach know, okay Tremz? Trainer's orders.”

Logan smiled. “Ouais, promise.” He clapped Remus on the back. “Night, Loops.”

“Drive safe.”

They walked out to the car, Leo reaching into Finn’s front pocket to get the keys. Finn huffed out a sigh but dutifully sat himself in the backseat, head lolling to lean against the cool window. Logan furrowed his eyebrows at Leo from the passenger side, but Leo just shrugged. So he had no idea then, either.

They rode in silence, letting Finn rest his eyes, Leo with his hand on Logan's thigh and drumming with his fingers. Logan took his hand and played with the digits, eyes flashing to Finn in the side view mirror. His gray T-shirt was a little damp with sweat around the neckline and he looked uncomfortable. Logan frowned as Leo turned into their parking garage, the change in tempo rousing Finn from his sleep. He blinked, then winced, placing a hand on his stomach. Something was wrong.

As soon as Leo had the car in park, Logan hopped out to open Finn's door and give him a hand. Finn, despite being in obvious pain, attempted a smirk. “Chivalry is not dead after all.”

Logan just raised his eyebrows. Finn sighed, but took Logan's hand. 

“When did you start feeling sick, honey?” Leo asked as they made their way to the elevator.

Finn's hand gripped Logan's hard. “I don't know, this afternoon? I felt a little dehydrated at practice this morning, I guess, but that was all before we took our nap after lunch.”

Leo bit the inside of his cheek as the door opened. “Come here. Let's go get a thermometer.”

Inside their apartment, Logan settled Finn on the couch and went to get him some water while Leo went to their bathroom. When he came back with a glass, Finn had slumped back into the cushions, breathing a little ragged. Leo put a hand on his forehead and coaxed him into opening his mouth, slipping the metal probe under his tongue. When it beeped, Leo squinted at the little screen and his eyes widened. “Shit, Fish.”

“Quoi?” Logan asked worriedly.

Leo turned the thermometer so he could see. “A hundred and two. Geez, Finn, that's high.”

Logan gripped Leo's forearm. “Hospital?”

Leo shook his head, placing a cooling hand on Finn's temple. “Not unless it lasts a few days, or gets to a hundred and three.” He kissed the skin just beside Finn's eye. “How you feeling, sweetheart?”

Finn groaned. “Sick. Feel really sick.” He curled around himself a bit. “Tummy hurts.”

“Okay,” Leo said. “I'll get you some ginger ale, some ibuprofen, and a pillow and blanket. Lo, can you take him to shower? I think he should sleep out here.”

Logan nodded, lifting Finn from under his arms. Finn whined out, but Logan gently shushed him as he guided him to their bathroom. He helped them both brush their teeth, then Finn shivered as Logan undressed him, his skin covered in goosebumps and a little sensitive. 

“Rouge, hot or cold?”

“Hot,” Finn said. His brown eyes were a bit glassy. “Please.”

Logan got the shower up to temperature and helped Finn under the spray, immediately going to wash his sweaty hair and body. He wanted him in dry clothes and under blankets as soon as possible, and Finn didn't look like he could stand up much longer. 

“Mon rouge,” Logan whispered, kissing his cheek. “What's wrong?”

Finn fell forward with his head on Logan's shoulder. “I feel so shit.”

Logan kissed his neck repeatedly, carding his fingers through his thick waves. “Why didn't you tell us?”

“Don't know,” Finn said, pressing harder into Logan's hold. “Didn't want to stop you from going out.”

Logan backed them out of the shower and wrapped Finn in a towel. “Non, you could never disappoint us.” He stood on his toes and kissed Finn's forehead firmly. “I would rather stay here with you than go out. Le, too.” Finn just nodded, obviously too tired to argue. Logan wrapped him up tighter in the towel and tugged him to their bedroom. He dressed them in boxers only before going back to the living room. “Le?”

“Here,” Leo said. He smiled gently, opening his arms for Finn to fall into. “Hi, sweetheart. Got you some ginger ale, okay? I'm going to go have a shower, then I'll sit here with you.”

Finn made an affirmative noise, and Logan watched as he let himself be tucked under the blankets Leo had put out, propped against a few spare pillows from their closet. Leo handed him a cup with a straw and kissed his forehead before turning to Logan.

“Ça va?” Logan asked as Leo cupped his jaw. 

“Ouais,” Leo whispered. “I'll stay out with him for a while, okay, honey? You should get some sleep.”

Logan pinched his eyebrows together. “Non, je-”

Leo interrupted him with a kiss and a soft smile. “No, it's better if one of us sleeps. He'll need space to let the fever run its course, too, so we can't snuggle him on the couch anyways.” Leo shrugged. “Besides, it's not like I will sleep a lot regardless.” At Logan's noise of dissent, Leo laughed breathily and shushed him, pulling Logan closer. “One problem at a time, sweetheart.” He kissed Logan again and wrapped him in a hug. “Go say goodnight and go to bed, please. I love you.”

“Je t'aime.”

With a last peck, Leo walked to their bathroom. Logan sighed, watching his back for a brief moment before turning back to Finn, who was blinking up at him with big eyes. Logan knelt by his head, and brushed his hair out of his face. “Salut, mon rouge.”

“Mm,” Finn sighed. He closed his eyes and breathed heavily. “Love you.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Finn sighed again and then his breathing evened out. Logan kissed his temple in a lingering press of his lips before quietly standing and walking towards their bedroom. With a last look at Finn and at the bathroom door, he crawled into bed, big and lonely without either of his boys, and laid down to try and sleep.

***

“Okay, it's okay, honey. Let's go to the bathroom.”

Logan jerked awake at the sound of Leo's voice through their open bedroom doorway. He heard a thump, then two sets of footsteps, and a groan from Finn down the hallway. Logan sprung out of bed, jogging quickly to watch just in time as Finn threw up in the toilet.

“There you go, baby,” Leo said, rubbing a hand up and down Finn's sweaty back. 

Finn reached up with a tired hand to flush the liquid away, head bent over the seat. He let out a groan and wilted a bit, Leo scooting behind him to support his weight with an arm around Finn's stomach. He was sweating profusely and shaking, face paler than it had been.

“Fuck,” Finn said. 

“Oh, mon coeur.” Logan knelt beside them. “Feel better?”

Finn shook his head. “Uh uh.”

Logan tisked. “Want water?”

That made Finn gulp. “No. Gonna be sick again.” 

“Shit,” Leo said. He reached another hand around to brush Finn's hair out of his eyes. “Don't try and force it down, honey, that'll make worse.”

And with that, Finn bent his head over the toilet once more as his stomach convulsed. “Ugh.”

Logan pressed the lever on the toilet this time, allowing Finn to sink back into Leo again. 

“Okay?” Leo asked.

“No.” Finn's breath hitched. “Le.”

“Sh, sh, I know.” Leo adjusted them, bracketing Finn with his legs and allowing him to sit curled against his chest. He pressed a hard kiss to the side of Finn's head. “I know, it hurts. I think your fever is breaking at the same time. But it's okay, baby, we got you.”

Finn let out a noise and Logan realized he was crying. Logan reached out to rub his arm. “Rouge.”

“I'm sorry,” Finn said wetly. He peeked out at Logan with one teary eye. “I'm sorry, it just really hurts.”

“Sh, sh,” Leo said again. He brushed Finn's cheeks with his thumbs. “Don't be sorry, Fish. It sucks to be sick.”

“It's not just that,” Finn sniffled, tears now flowing freely down his freckles. “It-it's that I've been feeling like shit for hours, and my head hurts, and my stomach hurts, and we have the playoffs soon, and I ruined our night out-”

“Whoa,” Logan interrupted. He took one of Finn's hands and kissed it. “Mon amour, I told you that you didn't ruin anything.”

Leo turned to look at Finn, too. “You're worried about ruining our night out?”

Finn's bottom lip was poking out and quivering as he nodded. “Yeah.”

Leo let out an oh and wrapped him tighter in his arms. Finn clung to his biceps. “Oh, honey, no, you didn't ruin anything.” He tucked his nose into Finn's hair. “And in terms of the playoffs, we still have a few days. That means you can rest, it's probably just a stomach bug. You'll be good as new in no time, sweetheart.”

“Ouais, rouge,” Logan agreed. He leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “We just want you better.”

Finn groaned again. “I feel so sick.” He looked up at Leo. “I'm sorry, peanut, this is not-” His breath hitched with another round of tears. “This is not very sexy.”

Leo laughed, which just made Finn cry harder into his shoulder. He kissed Finn's head. “Oh, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I laughed, it's not funny.”

“No it's not.”

Leo wrapped him up fully. “It's not very sexy, no. But I love you.”

Finn let out a strangled noise, then abruptly turn his wet face around and threw up another time into the basin. He moaned. “I just want to be better.”

Leo supported him still with a hand low on his stomach and Logan rubbed his back. “I know, mon chou,” Logan said. 

“It still hurts, why does it still hurt?” Finn cried, before vomiting once more.

“Geez,” Leo said. “You think that's all?”

“Ugh,” Finn groaned. He flushed a final time, then fell back, letting out an oof and a sniffle. “I think so. I still feel really sick.”

Logan clucked his tongue and pressed his hand to Finn's forehead. “Still warm, rouge.”

“Why don't you brush your teeth, honey,” Leo said, rubbing his hands up and down Finn's heaving ribs. “I'll get you some ginger ale again.”

Finn wiped his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”

Leo kissed his cheek, then lifted Finn under his arms to help him stand. Logan took his weight, then Leo was gone back to the kitchen, and the two of them were stood in front of the mirror. Logan rested his lips to Finn’s shoulder and played with his fingers while Finn brushed his teeth. He had a bit more color, but was still sweaty and shaky.

“Are you cold, mon amour?” Logan asked once Finn was done rinsing his mouth. 

Finn touched their foreheads together. “I don't know. Now I am, but on the couch I was hot.”

“It's the fever,” Leo said as he appeared in the doorway. “I think it's still breaking.” He winced. “Not ideal when you're also throwing up.”

Finn took the ginger ale. “Thank you, peanut.”

“You're welcome, sweetheart.”

“Allez,” Logan said. “Let's go sit.” He kissed Finn's wet cheek, then Leo's. “We can sleep.”

Leo pursed his lips. “But we can't-”

Logan kissed him on the mouth. “I'll hold you in the chair so you can sleep, mon coeur. Then Finn has his own space, but we can be there.”

Leo traced a finger down his cheek, then kissed his nose. “Okay.” He turned to Finn. “Sound good?”

To their surprise, Finn grin and winked. “Got my own nursing staff.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Merde. Only you say dirty things while sick.”

Finn huffed out a chuckle, but wobbled a bit, spilling some ginger ale. “Whoops.”

Leo sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, sweetheart. Bed time.”

Logan let Leo tuck Finn in while he went to get more pillows and blankets. After they each gave Finn a kiss on the forehead, Logan sat in their leather chair and reclined it, pulling the lever for the foot rest. He fluffed a pillow behind him and opened his arm with a look to Leo. “Ici, soleil.”

Leo climbed in gingerly, careful not to put too much weight on the footrest, then settled onto Logan's chest with a sigh. His feet hung off the end, but he didn't seem to care. Logan tugged the blanket over both of them. “Ça va?”

Leo nodded into his chest and kissed his collarbone. “You sure you'll be able to sleep like this?”

“Of course,” Logan said. He squeezed Leo to him. “With you, always.”

“Mm.” Leo shifted slightly, burrowing his nose into Logan's neck and peeking out at Finn's sleeping form. “Hope he's okay.”

“I'm sure he will be, soleil.” Logan kissed his forehead softly. “Je t'aime.”

“Love you,” Leo said. He yawned, making his face look like that of a puppy, and Logan pinched his button nose as it scrunched up. “Hey.”

Logan nuzzled their noses together and kissed his lips lightly. “Love you, love you, love you.” He sighed. “Bonne nuit, mon amour.”

Leo let out a breath, and between one moment and the next, they were both asleep.

***

Mid-March 2019

Logan’s hands shook slightly as he held his cell phone, his mother’s contact staring up at him. It was a picture of the two of them in Nice during the summer when Logan had been about seven. He was wet and sandy, his hair short and spiky like he'd liked at that age. He and his maman were both facing the camera, his skinny arms reaching up to wrap around her neck. He'd always loved physical affection, and was a frequent snuggler with all his family members, but with his mother especially when he was younger. They were both laughing in the photo. The fading sunset reflected against his mother’s dark hair and made her skin golden. Logan thumbed over her face- he had her eyes.

“Fuck,” he whispered, dropping his cell phone on Leo and Finn’s apartment floor. “Merde.”

“Lo?” came Leo's voice from the bedroom. He stepped out, curls damp from their post-run shower and in shorts and Finn's sweatshirt. “You okay?”

Logan just looked at him. Leo made a soft noise, coming over to the couch and tucking Logan under his arm. Logan pulled the Saints sweatshirt sleeves over his hands and snuggled into Leo's side.

“What's wrong?” Leo asked in French.

“I can't do it.”

“What can't you do?”

“Call my parents.”

Leo looked down at him, brow furrowed. “What?”

Logan sighed. “I want to tell them. About us.”

Leo pulled him closer, dipping his nose into Logan's hair. “You don't have to do anything you don't want, d'accord? I haven't said anything to my mama and dad yet, either. That's for after you move in.”

“Je sais,” Logan whispered. “I just- I can't keep it in anymore.” He carded his hands through Leo's hair. “My sisters know, and Finn's family knows, and I can't keep it in any longer.” He pulled Leo down for a kiss. “I want to tell them about you.”

Leo's eyes widened slightly. “Me?”

Logan nodded firmly. “Ouais. They won't be surprised by Finn.” He kissed Leo again. “I want to tell them about you, too. You're so amazing, mon coeur.”

Leo smiled against his mouth. “I like it when you say things like that.”

“Quoi?”

“When you tell us, directly, what you want from us, what you like about us.”

Logan smiled back. “I do like you.”

“I sure hope so.” Leo kissed him once more. “I'm sure it'll be okay, Lo. Your mother already loves me.”

Logan snorted. “All mothers love you.”

Leo shrugged. “It's my disposition.” He nuzzled their noses. “But I know it's scary.”

Reality came crashing back in. Logan bit his lip, staring down at his phone on the hardwood. “It's just…” He looked back up to Leo. “What if they don't love me anymore?”

Leo looked alarmed. “What?” 

Tears pressed at the edge of his vision. “They didn't ask for this. And it- it will make their life harder, and I don't want that.”

Leo pulled back to sit up straight, and Logan felt cold. “Their life harder? Sweetheart, it's about you. It's about us, and I- what matters is Finn loves you, and I-”

Logan's heart jolted. They hadn't said that to each other yet.

Leo shook his head. “I'm here for you. I want you, Lo. That's what matters. Are you- are you sure you want to do this?”

Logan sucked in an alarmed breath, meeting Leo's eyes. “Mon coeur, I want you more than anything. And I'm- I'm not ashamed, I'm just…” His voice felt weak. He blinked and tears fell.“I'm scared.”

Leo deflated. “Oh, honey.” He wrapped Logan up close, and Logan let out a sob into his chest. “Sh, sh, it's okay. It's okay, sweetheart, it's- Finn!”

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here, please?”

Finn also appeared from the bedroom, grinning and freshly showered like Logan and Leo and in Logan's high school hockey sweatshirt and boxers. “What's-” His face fell. “Shit.” He hurried over to kneel in front of them and cupped Logan's calves. “Baby, what happened?”

Logan tried to answer, but his voice caught, and he turned to bury his face into Leo's forearm.

That made Finn more alarmed, eyes wide. “Logan, Lo, baby, what's going on?” He looked to Leo. “Peanut?”

Leo's voice was tight as he spoke. “He- he tried to call his maman. To tell his parents about… well…”

“Us?”

“Yeah.”

Finn ran his hands up and down Logan's thighs. Logan peeked out through his eyelashes, expecting some sort of panic or frustration, but all he caught a glimpse of was Finn's soft gaze before he pressed a kiss to Logan's forehead. “Oh, baby. I'm so sorry.” He brushed Logan's hair out of is eyes. “Are you nervous?”

“Ouais,” Logan said hoarsely. He leaned into the touch of Finn's hands. “Ouais, I'm nervous.”

Finn hauled himself up to Logan's other side, an arm thrown over Logan’s torso, gripping Leo's where they criss-crossed. “How about we stay with you when you call them, baby? We're right here.”

“He's right,” Leo agreed. He kissed Logan's head. “We’re always right here, sweetheart.”

Finn dipped to whisper in his ear. “Love you.”

Logan kissed his cheek, then Leo's, and bent to pick up his phone. He unlocked it, still on his mother's contact. Leo gave him an encouraging smile, Finn a small squeeze, and he took a deep breath. His mother picked up on the second ring.

“Salut, mon ange! Ça va?”

“Ouais, maman,” he sighed. “Ça va.” He took a look at Finn. He'd probably be itching to know what they were saying, but Logan needed to speak French if he was going to get through this conversation. He'd tell him after. “I have something to tell you. Is dad there?”

He could imagine his mother's eyebrows, dark and full, furrowed in worry. “Is everything okay?”

“Ouais, it's good news. I hope it's good news.”

“Give me a moment, sweetheart. Marius!” A beat of silence. “It's Logan!” There was some rustling, then her voice sounded far away. “You're on speaker phone.”

“Salut, Lolo,” his dad said. “All good?”

Logan took a deep breath. He reached up to take Leo's hand that was pressed over his heart and squeezed. “I have- I have something to tell you.” 

“What is it?” His father's voice sounded worried.

He looked to Finn, who thumbed his damp cheek. “I-I'm seeing someone.” He turned to Leo, who was watching him with soft blue eyes. “Someones.”

“Quoi?” his mother asked. “What do you mean-”

“It’s Finn and Leo. Both. Both of them.”

He heard two sharp inhales, then a soft noise from his dad. “Oh, Logan…”

“Ouais,” Logan said. He was crying again. “I-I'm so sorry, I-”

“Now what would you have to be sorry for?” Iva said. She laughed, and it was teary. “You've been in love with Finn since the first day you met him. And Leo… well, he's so good to you, I adore him.”

Despite it all, that made Logan laugh. “That's what he said.”

He could imagine her smile. “It's true. He's an angel.”

“Ouais, he is.” He bounced his leg nervously. “Papa?”

“Sorry,” his dad said gruffly. “I'm just- I'm so proud of you, mon fil.” His voice made Logan cry all over again. “We love you so much.”

“I love you,” Logan replied. 

“Do you love them?”

His father's question made Logan jerk his head up. First, he found Finn's eyes, loving and caring, almost jewel-like. Then he turned to Leo. He and Finn had a plan to tell him they loved him, and while it hadn't been said out loud, Logan already felt it deep within his bones. He may have fallen in love with Finn O'Hara years ago, in a shit-hole Harvard frat house, but he fell in love with Leo Knut the first time Leo had ordered them both sundaes and tea on the road, when they had talked about missing home and Logan, missing Finn like an ache even if he was right in front of him, had for the first time in a while felt a sense of peace, of home, in Leo’s blue eyes. They knew him wholly, completely, without so much as uttering a word, and Logan never felt more seen than when he was in Leo's arms.

“Ouais,” he said to his parents. “I do.”

“Are you happy?”

“Ouais. I'm so happy.”

“Then that's all we could ever ask for,” his father replied. 

“Thank you for telling us, sweetheart.”

“Ouais, maman. Thank you for listening.” He took a shaky breath. “And- the team knows, and the girls know, but we're… we're not ready for it to be public yet.”

He could imagine his mother shaking her head gently. “Whenever you're ready, Lolo. We'll be right here for you.”

“We love you,” his father said. “Bonne nuit, mon ange.”

“Bonne nuit.”

Logan ended the call, staring at his phone for a second before bursting into tears.

“Sh, sh, honey, it's okay,” Leo hushed. He cradled Logan to his chest. “It's going to all be okay.”

“Non, non,” Logan said. He sat up, wiping his eyes. “They're okay. They're okay with it.”

Finn's wide grin filled his vision. “That's so great, baby.” He cupped Logan's cheek and kissed him hard. “What'd you tell them?”

Logan sniffled. “That, um. That we are together and that- that the world doesn't know yet, but the team does, and that-” He looked into Finn's eyes. His own welled up again, and he blinked a few tears down his cheeks. “That I'm happy.” He turned and kissed Leo. “We're happy.”

Leo smiled against his lips. “The happiest.”

Logan flopped back against him and opened his arms for Finn to give him a hug. “Can I stay here tonight?”

Finn kissed his cheek. “Of course you can. You're moving in in a few weeks.”

Logan groaned. “But that's so far away.”

“It's the best time for it, sweetheart,” Leo said, pulling Logan slightly into his lap. “We've got two days off after the regular season ends.” He made a raspberry noise against Logan's neck, making Logan giggle. “Plus, we need to give the Dumais kids some time to process.”

Finn whistled lowly under his breath. “Yikes, yeah. We're gonna be public enemy number one after stealing their Frenchie from them.”

Logan hit the back of his head lightly, then pulled him in for a kiss. “Don't talk about my children that way.”

Leo snorted. “They're not yours.”

“Katie is.”

“Well, fine, fine,” Leo sighed. He gave Logan's temple one last kiss before moving to stand. “I'm starving after that run. How about some burritos? I've got some meat, and I can make spicy rice and pico and guac.”

Logan smiled as he shifted over to let Leo out. “Merci, soleil.”

Leo kissed them each on the lips briefly before sauntering into the kitchen, whistling. Logan watched Finn’s eyes follow him. When he turned back to Logan, he smiled widely. “Hi, baby-baby. Feel better?”

Logan nodded, but he remained serious. He brought their faces closer. “I love you.” He played with Finn's hair briefly. “The day I move in I want to tell Leo we love him,” he whispered.

Finn's smile grew so big it scrunched his nose and the corners of his eyes. “Yeah?”

Logan smiled, too. “Ouais.”

Finn wiggled excitedly. “Yay. Yay, yay, yay!” he whisper-shouted. “We can get that cake he likes from down the road, and we can light candles, and I'll put on that jazz record-”

Logan kissed him, unable to direct his eagerness anywhere else. He was flushed with just the thought. “Ouais, yes, yes, yes.”

Finn just laughed and leaned into kiss Logan once more. 

***

End of March, 2019 (this takes place after Ch. 17 of SW)

Lorgan sat down on one of the kitchen barstools heavily with a sigh. He loved team dinners, he loved the Dumais, but he did like coming home to his own space. Or, not his own space but his-and-Finn's-and-Leo's space. An adult space. A home, one that they were making together.

It had been only a few days since moving in, a few days since telling Leo he loved him (We, he could hear Finn's voice say. We told him we love him.), and already he couldn't imagine existing in the same space as anyone else. It was bliss, it was home, it was love and pleasure so heady that Logan almost couldn't contain his joy and neediness. In fact, that seemed like a pretty good idea. Finn was in the shower; Leo was texting his parents, but maybe Logan could drag him away with a few kisses and join Finn underneath the spray, all steamy and glistening, and-

Logan sucked in a breath, already hot at the thought, and went to their bedroom. 

He put on a smile, biting his lip in a way he hoped was sexy enough for Leo to want to kiss him (not that it was hard), and leaned against the bedroom door. Leo was sat on the mattress, all tall and nicely dressed from dinner, and looking intently at his phone. 

Logan wanted to kiss him so badly. “Le?”

“Hm?” When Leo looked up, his eyes were wet and his face flushed.

Logan stiffened and pushed off the wall. “Merde,” he said. He went to stand in between Leo’s legs and cupped his round face. “Peanut, what's wrong?”

Leo blinked, pulling back to wipe at his face. “Sorry. Sorry, sweetheart, I'm okay.”

“Non,” Logan protested gently. Leo watched him as he walked around to the other side of the bed and crawled over to settle against the pillows by Leo's left side. He sat up, stretched out his arm, and tugged Leo until he fell against his chest. “Mon soleil, can you tell me?”

Leo swung his legs onto the bed to lie down fully, bringing a hand up to hold Logan's bicep. “I watched Sirius’ interview. From the game.”

“Okay,” Logan whispered into his hair. He kissed Leo's temple, letting him collect his thoughts.

“What he said,” Leo continued. “About- about loving the game and finding someone who allowed him to love the game and love outside of the game. About Remus, it- I don't know, it just made me sad.”

Logan made a noise of dissent and squeezed Leo harder. “Why would it make you sad, mon coeur?”

Leo’s breath was shaky. “Because it- because so many people reacted so horribly, and now all he does is answer questions about it. I'm- I'm so proud of them, and so grateful that there are openly gay people in hockey, but it-” Leo's voice turned high pitched, and Logan felt as his body hitched with a sob.

“Mon soleil,” Logan whispered, hugging Leo tightly. “Sh, c'est bien, I've got you.”

“Nobody should have to do that,” Leo cried softly. “I don't want to do that.”

Logan felt his heart break and his body stiffen. He knew Leo wasn't shy about his identity, not in the way Logan was. They were still figuring this dynamic out, the three of them, and had agreed to wait a while, but Logan couldn't help but wonder if Leo would have chosen to have done something differently if he hadn't gotten together with the two of them. If he would have already come out, however subtly. 

Finn chose that moment to walk through the door, a towel hanging from his hips. He entered with his usual swagger, but stopped upon seeing Logan and Leo. “Shit,” he said. “Give me two seconds.”

He threw the towel on the floor and rummaged quickly for a pair of boxers, then came to lie beside them on the bed. “What's happening? Leo, what's wrong?”

Leo sniffled, leaning into Finn's hand that was smoothing back his hair. “I watched Sirius’ interview. After the game.” A few more tears fell down his cheek and Finn wiped them away. “I don't like watching him have to defend himself and Remus, or- or just answer questions about it.” He ducked down into Logan's chest. “He's good at hockey. People seem to forget that now, sometimes.”

Finn glanced at Logan with knowing eyes, then looked back down to Leo. “Do you- do you think about that, sweetheart? Having to answer questions about it?”

Leo nodded, his eyes welling up again. “Mmhm.” He snuggled closer in Logan's arms. “I'm not ashamed of who I am. I just wish that it wasn't a given that I'll have to  talk to reporters about it. To defend it.” His lips wobbled a bit. “I'm good at hockey.”

Finn bent his head to press kisses to Leo's cheeks. “You're so good, nutter butter,” he whispered. “And you're so beautiful, and gentle, and kind.” Every descriptor seemed to make Leo cry harder, but Finn just kissed the tears away. “You're so much more than just your sexuality, baby. And you're everything to us. Right, Lo?”

Logan nodded hurriedly, kissing Leo's head repeatedly. “Ouais, mon soleil. We meant it when we said we loved you. You're everything.”

Finn made a noise in agreement. “We love you so much. We talk about it all the time.”

“You do?” Leo asked, almost timid.

Finn kissed him slowly. “Of course we do. And we will only come out whenever we are all ready. And we will do it in such a way that we avoid as much questioning as possible.” He had a fierce glint in his eye. “I will defend you both if I have to, but I will not let anyone tell me loving you is wrong.” He looked between them both. “It is the most right thing that I've ever felt.”

Leo nodded against Logan's chest and Logan held him tighter. It wasn't often that he was the one holding one of his boys like this, and he loved the weight of Leo's body on top of his. He vowed to do it more often. 

“I love you,” Leo whispered tearily “I love you so much.”

“Love you,” Logan said, kissing Leo's temple in bursts. “Love you, love you, love you. Now, soleil-” He sat up slightly, jostling Leo a little bit. “-I was going to come in here and ask to go give rouge a sexy surprise in the shower-”

Finn's eyebrows shot up. 

Logan rolled his eyes playfully. “-but I think it's best we go to bed.” He tilted Leo's face to the side to kiss him lightly. “Let's take a shower. I want to wash the day off of me, then we can cuddle.”

Leo bit his lip around a small smile. His eyes were still a bit wet, but the tears made his baby blues crystal clear. “I could be persuaded into a sexy surprise.”

Logan felt heat stir in his belly. “Ouais?”

Leo nodded. “Ouais. It makes me all hot when you tell me you love me.” He made to sit up, then turned to Finn and winked. “We'll be right back, sweetheart.”

“Fuck that,’ Finn blurted out. He shot up and scurried around the bed, grasping Leo by the hips and kissing him as he nudged him out through the doorway. “I'm joining.”

Leo laughed in between the wet kisses Finn was pressing to his mouth. “You just- hm, Finn- you just showered, honey.”

“I literally said I don't care. I'll shower after, if you want, too. Just no sexy showering without me.” Finn held out a hand to Logan. “Chop chop, Tremblay, sexy shower time.”

Logan shook his head fondly and flushed, allowing himself to be pulled off the bed, pulled out of their bedroom, pulled out of his clothes, pulled into the steamy shower, and pulled off the edge, in free-fall and forever- forever- in love. This, he thought as his boyfriends’ bodies blanketed his own, their laughs in his ear and their mouths against his skin, was what a home should feel like.

[angelmichelangelo]

hi hi!! love your writing sm!! and i was wondering if you had any fic idea between 2012 leo and mikey! i feel like their bond as oldest and youngest brothers is really sweet 🥺

thank you! hope you enjoy, thanks for the prompt! :)

x

Mutagenic goo rains down from the dark sky in thick splatters. Leo’s breath is ice cold in his chest as he takes desperate heaves to swallow it down. 

The remains of the Mega Shredder lay still across the long stretch of road, unmoving and in pieces, there’s a faint trill rattling around in Leo’s head. 

He lifts himself up off the floor. His limbs feel like lead.

He makes a disjointed reach for one of his katana’s. There’s a lone nunchuck laying beside it.

Where’s Mikey? His heart slams into his chest in a second. Where’s—

Donnie and Raph have appeared in front of him. How they managed to reach him in such succession, he neither asks or cares. They look furious. 

“You took him with you,” Raph seethes. His sai’s wink at him where he’s got them in tight grasps at his sides. “You took our little brother with you on your suicide mission.”

Leo tries to speak — tries to defend himself that Mikey insisted he come with! But words fail him, sticking in the bottom of his gut, he tries to twist away to catch a glimpse of his youngest brother but Donnie is catching his wrist with his hand and forcing him towards him.

“It’s your fault!” He more or less growls at him, like a wounded animal. His entire face knits itself together with unbridled anger. “It’s all your fault!”

Leo’s chest grows tight. His legs seem to be buckling from beneath him, certain that the only thing keeping him upright is Don’s iron grip on his arm still.

“What will you tell Splinter?” Raph spits. When Leo looks towards him there’s a wet, glossy sheen clouding dark, fierce green eyes. “How will you tell him about what you’ve done?”

Leo chokes on the words that won’t come, replaced with hot, burning bile instead that’s creeping up his throat, he whines instead and then —

A scream. Loud and shrill and all three brothers are turning so fast they all nearly lose balance, and it’s April, crouched over a familiar, unmoving shape and…

“Don’t look.” Casey is here too now. He looks… haunted. “It’s not good.” 

Leo tries to scream. But nothing comes. His throat is raw and burning, but no noise is able to escape him.

Leo wakes with a start, his heart crawling back down his chest again, he feels it pounding across the inside of his plastron. 

His palms are slick with sweat as he rips his blanket off his legs, swinging them over the bed he steadies him as he stands.

It… it was just a nightmare.

The dark corners of his room slowly come more into focus as his eyes adjust to the night. He quickly regains himself by pointing out the details that he knows:

His Space Heroes poster that’s tacked up on the far wall, a little creased and torn after finding it in the middle of an old, outdated magazine. 

The old martial arts book that Splinter gifted him long ago; the spine cracked from overuse and the bookmark that’s wedged two thirds of the way in.

This is his room. His eyes slide towards his nightstand where his lamp stands. Flicking it to life, a small explosion of orange hue lights up his corner of the room, illuminating the framed photo that stands there beside it.

He swallows thickly.

It’s an old photo, taken when they were maybe around twelve years old, growing into themselves still evident in the bulk of their shells and the muscle lean, Mikey takes up most of the frame with his wide, toothy smile and bright eyes and Leo feels his chest clinch.

His nightmare was exactly just that. Something sour tickles the back of his throat. But it had almost not just been a nightmare. Today it had very nearly become a reality.

The bitterness refuses to budge even when he swallows again, so he moves from his room towards the kitchen in refuge of water. He stops short when he notes the figure standing at the fridge before he can get there first. “Oh.” Mikey says shortly as he whips around. He doesn’t have his mask, instead pulled around his neck loosely, this way Leo can make out the purple rings that circle his brothers eyes. The tiredness that’s etched itself deep across his boyish face. “Busted,” he grins. “Oops.” Leo sighs, dragging a hand down his face like it might rid him of his own exhaustion, he only manages a small, weak huff of a laugh. “Yeah.” He says. He moves closer, Mikey making way for him as he reaches for a bottle of water. “Why you up so late?” Mikey holds up the bag of shredded cheese in his grasp before reaching in with the other hand, bringing out a handful, he grins at him. “You won’t tell dad, will you? That I’m making a midnight snack out of his stash.” Leo snorts. “He always finds out,” he says plainly. “He has the nose for it.” He pauses. “Literally.” Mikey shrugs, having weighed up the consequences already it appeared, he tips his head back, opens his mouth and sprinkles in the cheese. Leo watches him as he unscrews the cap off his bottle. “You know cheese before bed is bad for you,” he tells his brother warningly. His own nightmare ebbs around the corners of his mind. He takes a swig of cold water like it might just wash it away entirely. Mikey hums. “Yeah.” He sets the bag down on the counter. “Couldn’t sleep anyways.” He says it like it’s so normal. He says it in a way that has Leo’s gut growing hot and cold at the same time so he puts his drink down and sucks in a breath. “Yeah, me neither,” he tells him. Two days ago, Leo truly thought he’d lost his little brother. Two days ago he’d watched a monster devour his sibling, tossing him down his gullet without care. Two days ago he’d felt a grief and rage burn so hot inside him, he could feel the after effects of it healing within him. He isn’t so sure how Mikey is here, standing before him entirely unscathed after that entire ordeal, but he isn’t going to dispute it. Still. Guilt is eating away at him like a growing parasite. He shifts from foot to foot and Mikey gives him a sideways glance because he’s always the first to notice when something is up with one of his brothers. “I need to apologize,” Leo blurts before Mikey has a chance to talk. He averts his gaze, ashamedly, staring at the bottom of the fridge instead. “For the other day.” There’s the rustle of the cheese bag where Mikey’s got it in his hold again, fingers dipping in for seconds. “Apologize?” He questions. “For what?” Hurt bubbles up in Leo’s chest like an ugly blister. He closes his eyes but all he can picture is his father’s horrified face when Leo tells him what happened. How he… how he almost got Mikey killed. “I should never have put you in danger like that. The other day, at Shredder’s lair.” His throat bobs. There’s still that awful taste lingering there. Regret, Leo thinks it might be. Regret and shame. “It was a really stupid thing to do.” “Put me in danger?” Mikey says after a beat, voice catching onto an airy laugh. Little bits of shredded cheese fall around at his feet as he waves his hand about. “Leo. I chose to go with you. You didn’t make me – if anything I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” Leo’s quick to shake his head at that notion. No. He thinks sourly. This was never his fault. Mikey sets the cheese back down again, this time to reach over and land a hand on Leo’s shoulder. 

He looks up to face him. Baby blues blink up at him. He’s still a little taller than Mikey but as he stands here in the dull light of the fridge bulb, he notes how much more he’s filled out in the past months. The shape of his arms no longer distinguished by stubborn baby fat. The way his shell seems to fit him a little more snug now (with still some space to grow because he’s always going to be the runt, but Leo would never admit that outloud to him.) This brother right here resembles nothing to the picture he has in his bedroom. He’s not a kid anymore.

“I’m okay,” he tells him, voice low and gentle. “I survived and so did you and yeah it was a little reckless what we did, but when are we never not stupid?” Leo laughs, something wet and wobbly sounding in his chest. He draws back a shaky breath. “Dude. I get it. You’re my big brother, you guys are always gonna worry about me. Nothing is gonna change that, not in this lifetime anyway.” He smiles, all soft around the edges and knowing. “But I can handle myself. If I’m doing stupid shit like getting eaten by Mega Shredder’s it’s because I did it all by myself. Not because of whatever mistakes you think you’ve made.” Leo’s heart squeezes around itself. “But–” Mikey shakes his head back at him, cutting him off swiftly. “Nuh uh.” He moves only to put the bag back in the fridge, closing it, the room quickly fills with darkness. It’s a familiar comfort. “We’re done here. So you can either go back to bed and sulk about it or…” his mouth curves upwards into a slight grin. “Or we can totally watch the Space Hero’s made for TV movie with the subtitles on until one of us falls asleep.” He gives Leo a pointed look. “Your choice, bro.” And truth be told, Leo doesn’t like sulking all that much. Not when he’s doing it alone, that is. So he follows his brother into the pit where there’s already an array of blankets and Mikey’s found the VHS tape in mere minutes, sniffing it out like a bloodhound and they watch their movie on mute as Mikey grows heavy against him, eyes drooping shut, Leo doesn’t nudge him awake or remind him he needs his eyes open to watch the subtitles. Mikey might be right. He’s old enough to make his own choices, whether they’re good or bad. It was just part of growing up; Leo knows he’s had his fair share of bad decisions in his lifetime already. His little brother wasn’t a baby anymore. He was a fully fledged ninja – he’d proven that time and time again and yet–

Leo carefully reaches over his sleeping sibling to drape one of the discarded blankets over his form. Mikey doesn’t stir and Leo feels his heart pinch. And yet. He was always going to be his littlest brother still. No matter how big and brave he got – that was one thing remaining unchanging. 

[wildsaltair]

screencap from a lost deleted scene from Gladiator, in which Maximus cradles the little statues of his family (which he carries with him everywhere including battle!) after nearly dying in Germania

[tetzoro]

You're halfway through folding laundry when two familiar hands cover over your eyes. The smell of sweat, metal and sake washes over you and you can't help but roll your eyes behind the hands as you drawl out,

“Goodness, who could it be?”

There's a slight rumble from the chest behind your head as it pulls you to it, though the hands don't move from their spot.

You give an over-exaggerated sigh before snickering out, “Okay Franky, you got-”

“Franky?! You kiddin’ me?!”

You laugh outright at the outburst, knowing it confused and infuriated your poor green haired lover all the same. Your hands drop the shirt you were folding and gently cover over the larger ones, pulling them from your eyes as you lean back into Zoros broad chest properly.

“Why the surprise?” You question, curiosity in your eyes as his steel grey one stares back down at you. An annoying tint of pink covers his cheeks as he mutters, “Can't surprise my pretty girl? Damn.” He then smirks slightly, a joking tone dancing on his lips as he presses a quick kiss to your temple as he murmurs against your skin, “Learn somethin’ new about you every damn day.”

You chuckle again, though you press a kiss of your own to each of his palms. “You trying to surprise me because it's my birthday?”

There's a chilling silence from your lover and you look up at him with wide eyes as you ask softly, “... you know it's my birthday, right?”

Zoro blinks once, twice, before he mutters in confusion, “It's your birthday?”

You gasp and swat at him, only for his laughter to break you out of your shock as his hands grip your wrist gently. “Don't be stupid, of course I know it's your birthday.” He's quick to press a few chaste kisses to your wrist before holding your palm to his cheek.

“I got somethin’ for you. You gonna come open your gift or you gonna fold laundry all damn day?”

You grin and roll your eyes again before giving another sigh, this time with a wide shrug as you tease back, “Well, I guess your gift is more important than some laundry…”

Zoro chuckles lowly at your joking tone, pulling you up as he stands straight, though he keeps his hand in yours the whole time.

“Good, because I worked damn hard pickin’ out something you'd actually like.”

You grin and slyly ask,

“And how much do you owe Nami for asking for her help?”

Zoro pretends to be wounded, holding his free hand over his heart as he snarks back, “Not a damn thing, thank you very much.”

You both stare at each other for a moment, your gaze disbelieving to the point it pulls a deep sigh from him a few moments later as he hangs his head slightly.

“... too much, Aims. Too damn much.”

You laugh again and pull him closer before getting on your tippy toes to press a few kisses to his jawline and the corner of his lips. “Zo, you could have got me a bottle of sake and I'd have cried. You didn't need to go all out.”

He grins slightly before snatching your lips up with his own, humming against them for a moment before he pulls away with a muttered,

“Just wait till you see. Promise you'll like it, no matter what it is?”

You grin in response with a slight nod, gushing in earnest, “Of course, Zo. You picked it out, how could I not love it?”

Zoro hums in agreement before pulling you into his arms, pressing another quick kiss to the top of your head before he jokes,

“Then stop wasting time and come open my gift.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AIMS LOVELY !!!!! I hope you don't mind the lil blurb, I saw it was your birthday and just had to write some soft Zoro for you 🥺🥺🥺💖💖💖💖 I hope your day has been as wonderful, kind and warm as you are 💖💖💖💖💖💖 ALL MY LOVE TO YOUUU !!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

mandie .. MANDIE !! you did NOT just leave me the most beautiful and wonderful gif on my little doorstep ! i can not tell you how many times i’ve read this :( i am going to give you my unhinged reactions in the tags ofc but firstly !! thank you for doing this for me, i feel so incredibly touched that you put in the time to create this for me 🥺🥺 you’re so thoughtful and i am giving you the biggest hug in existence !!!! THANK YOU !! SENDING YOU SO MUCH LOVE !!! and giving you as many smooches as you want ^___^ !

now . for the fic . rubbing my hands together like a little fly hehe. let’s see if i can keep this coherent enough, shall we ? (<- said moments before i incoherently express everything)

ft. my moodboard of emotions i felt during reading btw

[johnslittlespoon]

you're a dog (i'm your man) ch4 update !! <3

DON'T QUOTE ME ON THIS because knowing me, i could dream up a whole new scene to try and squeeze in, buttt it's looking like i'll hopefully get chapter four done by the end of this week ahhh <33 if i say it out loud surely it'll make me hold myself accountable LOL

working title and a timeline hint sorta kinda:

'How Long Do I Have Left With My Dog?'

this one has been emotion heavy (and some of those emotions are quite fitting for the month we're in lmaoo i know what you are gale cleven) and hard to write bc i'm much more a dialogue over internal thought writer, but i hope it does the boys justice and makes the timeline progression filler feel less filler–y <3

also gonna be the longest chapter yet– already passed the 5k word threshold, guessing it'll be closer to 7k oopsie. thank youuu for the patience as always while i've been a sickly victorian man on my death bed SDGKJS appreciate it so so much :')

i'm SOOO excited for what i have planned for ch5, it's motivating me to wade thru the 'less fun' (read: angst) parts of ch4 because there are some scenes coming up that i've had planned in my head since before i even decided to make this fic into anything other than a collection of dog–coded oneshots <33

there's a scene i think i briefly drabbled about here back in like. february. that will slot into ch5 (or 6 if i have to split it up again lmfao) and it's crazy to see my shit come so full circle AND TO SEE HOW LONG DOG CODED BUCKY HAS HAD ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. embarrassing truly!!! wtf. i love these boys

ok that's my little (long) updateee, thank you again for putting up with my slow updates and replies and lack of brainrot lately <3 hope ur having a lovely pride month so far!!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

do you like nanami? because i do.

nanami is the epitome of my life—my oxygen, the one that keeps me going. his words, his voice, his touch, his eyes; from his head to toe was what perfected him.

he was made with such details, such perfections, each stroke—each freckle, each pore, each crease on his skin was made with the intent of creating a man loved by all.

yes, loved by all. you love him, i love him, everyone MUST love him.

his voice; a mix of sultry and sweet, a combination like a fine sip of coffee seeping through one's tongue during an early morning. as the sun seeps through the curtains of the clouds, it brews deep into one's soul.

love nanami, our beautiful 50/50 firework, for a better life. #nanamikento'soneandonlywife

😭😭😭 least down bad nanami stan.

/LIGHTHEARTED BTWW i respect you so much anon. speak your truth!!!!!!! let them know!!!!!!!!!!! nanami is objectively the best jjk guy after suguru i think…… he would treat you so well. and his voice……. phewwwww . tsudaken the loml <33

I LOVE NANAMI he’s actually . the reason i got into jjk. 👉👈 he was my absolute favorite for a Long Time before i read the manga and everything and now :’3 he’s . well . not one of my Favorites but i love him lots!!!! i promise!!!!!! and i’m happy he has so many devoted stans <33333 nanami loves you so much anon. he told me!!!!!!!

[rotworld]

chapter 2 of the luxuria triplicate side story is up! this one is suggestive but not explicit, has some vague mentions of child abuse/neglect.

[robinsnest2111]

ohhhhhh I just thought of a Christmas version/continuation of my favourite polycrue fic of all time and honestly why didn't I think of that way sooner?????

like. perfect set up with the wintery snowy weather outside, the boys all cozy in their house/studio. the living room probably big enough to set up a Christmas tree, each of the guys having some kind of opportunity to drive a couple towns over to get presents without the recipient noticing (as evidenced by the little gift Tommy had picked out for Mick and presented to him in the 2nd chapter of the fic) and most of the non-material gifts involving all 4 of them showering each other with love and attention and lots of fucking on all available surfaces to stay on theme with the main fanfic ✌

and it could be such a lovely opportunity for Mick to reciprocate and give back all the love he's received from the other guys so far. since he's gotten comfortable with the thought that someone, let alone all 3 of his bandmates could view him as desirable and lovable in such an honest and straightforward way...

also! ugly Christmas sweaters, baking sweet treats and cooking delicious Christmas meals, watching cheesy Christmas movies, opening presents, the whole nine yards !!!

[pipperoo]

how the fuck is it already november 25th?!!?!!?

(time is so fucked up)

anyway, happy one year anniversary to my fic “if only there was more time” and posting on ao3 for the first time!

sincerely can’t believe that i’ve been writing for a year, how did that happen???