#writing thingamabobs

[somanystars]

"Well...this explains a lot."

A blinked, gun wavering for a moment before he tightened his grip. In response, B raised his hands higher, resting his palms on his head.

"What?"

"I mean. My guess was ADHD. For all the...random knowledge you've got."

"Why would that explain it?"

"Well, why do you think I know so much about mushrooms?" B asked, waving to the one "Types of Mushrooms" poster that had looked nice enough to come with him to college despite the hyper fixation fading years ago. A, astonishingly, did glance at the poster. B shrugged. "Figured you had a phase like that for lockpicking."

"How do you know about the lock picking?"

"I lock the room every night before I sleep?" B said. "Yet you're still here the next morning."

"I use my key."

"No, you don't," B said. "Switched the keys a while ago. I wanted to test my hypothesis."

Before I knew you had a gun, he didn't add.

A kept blinking at him. B could practically the cartoonish plink-plink sounds from his childhood TV shows.

"So, are you really just trained? Or do you also have ADHD?"

"Is that really your priority right now?" A demanded, waving the gun a little as if to reemphasize what he thought B should focus on.

"I mean" B began, "I guess - I thought I'd just startled you when I walked in, and once you relaxed, you'd put the gun away. I mean, I don't see how I could be your target. The only person who might want me dead is Nancy Cordez since I rejected her Valentine's Day offer. That was in like, 4th grade though. So probably not."

A cracked an incredulous smile and lowered the gun. B grinned and lowered his arms.

"So."

"So?"

"Do you have ADHD?"

A's eyes darted away. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean. I guess I suspect sometimes. I dunno."

"So that's a yes then," B said, clapping his hands together. "I knew it."

"Dude."

"What? No one else here has it. No one I've met anyways. It's nice knowing you're not the only one"

A scoffed. "Yeah. I'm great company."

"Better than nothing."

His eyes darted away again. For an assassin, he was shy as hell. Another reason to suspect ADHD rather than assassin.

Oh well. He'd still been half right.

Today you just found out your roommate with strange hobbies, like knowing how to pick a lock, knows how every puzzle and cipher by heart, or how to commit tax fraud, and so many other things, wasn't a guy with ADHD, he was an ex-assassin and now you have a gun pointed at your face

[incesthemes]

considering each episode as an allegory for sam and dean's story has done irreparable damage to my psyche. if bugs is about cursed land and if bugs is about sam and his relationship to his father, his family, then bugs is about how sam's body (his "land") has been cursed, later even confirmed to be by his ancestors just as oasis plains was cursed by its ancestors. mary sacrificed sam's body to azazel, poisoned him, sent him to the slaughter. you can't break a curse, you can only outrun it. the fact that sam and dean were stuck within the curse only solidifies the connection: they're fruitlessly fighting the literal curse while sam fights the metaphorical curse within him. it's an episode about sam and his anger at john, about dean and his loyalty to john, about how they're both wrong in different ways. it's an episode about family and ancestors and killing your children, making your lands infertile so no future generations can survive on them. it's an episode about sam.

and it comes right before home, the episode which presents with full, explicit confirmation that sam has developed psychic powers. there's evil inside him and he's scared—"what's happening to me?"—and he's uncertain about himself, his past, and his future. the episode that reveals his psychic powers is the episode they return to their childhood home, is the episode where mary's ghost makes an appearance. sam was cursed by mary and their home was made inhospitable; she forced them out like the white man forced out the euchee.

and it comes right after hook man, the episode which wraps sam's feelings of being cursed in sinful, evil, religious language, which shows his deference to the christian god, which implies there's something evil within him that's hurting the people he loves. sam is evil, sam is cursed, sam is harboring something bad within him and the way to absolve him of his sins is to pray for divine retribution and punishment, for death, because the thing inside of sam is inextricable from himself, is bound to him.

all three episodes are about family and repeating curses, the echoes of harm carrying through generations. all framed through sam's relationship to john, to his past, to the people who came before him he knows nothing about. all culminating in the revelation that sam's fears are coming true and the curse he mentioned two episodes ago is real and it's getting worse and no one knows how to stop it.

but you can't break a curse. you can only get out of the way.

[alien-ally]

i dont watch a lot of shows, but its been a while since i saw such an emotionally charged confrontation in a bl show. i believe great acting can elevate any confrontation scene (even if the conflict was contrived) but uh here, we knew this all along. we knew the pain was coming, i did, it was delicious, and braced for impact but i still am in shambles. wei lili packing random packets of food from the house for yuan, unable to focus on eating when yuan sits with that face, getting him to pass stuff just to talk to him. a resounding 'tell me, what's wrong?'. never have siblings been so real lol. also, i deeply appreciate the character of Sanpang, cause i think he's supposed to be the reflection of society, but in a far more gentler, loving way for he actually does care for both of them. lol he himself doesn't know 'what's wrong' exactly, just that something should be cause yk it's Wei Qian. also, he's far more nicer than in the novel i've heard. and not homophobic at the very least.

[tabl3]

[nebulouscoffee]

That scene between Tuvok and B'Elanna from 'Resistance' wrecks me actually... It's such a great moment for both characters (and actors, Tim Russ is SO underrated ugh) which highlights the differences between the two of them so well- yet, ultimately shows that under certain circumstances (in this case, torture) the distinctions between people... don't really matter. In an episode full of political violence, this moment is so significant, and I don't even really think I have the smarts to articulate why but I'll try lol.

TORRES: We told you already. We don't know anything about the Resistance.  AUGRIS: I've heard that many times, from many people. Take him.  (The forcefield is lowered, and Torres grabs the guard that steps through.)  TUVOK: Lieutenant, stop! That will not help either of us.  AUGRIS: He's right.

Everything about the way this scene (and the final shot where she's shoved back into her seat) is framed makes B'Elanna appear small, helpless- and embarrassed at her own helplessness- in that cell. We see her fidgeting, unable to sit down, constantly trying to break out or improvise her way out of the situation (she gets electrocuted earlier while trying to tamper with the circuitry)- it makes me wonder whether Tuvok was chosen to be tortured not because they believed he was more likely to have information, but because B'Elanna was more likely to be demoralised watching helplessly as he's dragged off. Augris's line implies that he's "broken" a great many people in the past; a tactic to instil fear and a helpless sense of inevitability in them both (torture doesn't work as a reliable way of extracting information; this is stated in dialogue in other Trek episodes such as 'Chain of Command' so the assertion here is at least not that- but what it does do is demoralise the public involved in resistances like this one.)

Later, B'Elanna is still trying to escape (do the guards know she's doing this? Are they just not intervening?) and she hears him screaming. Tuvok is someone who considers letting others witness him lose control over his exterior a huge (indecent, violating, humiliating) vulnerability, and the fact that he's the one being tortured is Not Insignificant in this context but like- it could've been the other way round. And B'Elanna knows that. It could've been her, and perhaps a small, scared part of her is relieved that it wasn't her, which is an awful way to feel (and if there's one thing B'Elanna hates, it's feeling like a coward). Also- the sheer violation of this, for B'Elanna to have witnessed him in this state, against her will- to later see him bloodied and weakened and flung in a cell, to have heard him screaming in pain- without his consent, knowing she can never un-witness it, knowing it wasn't her fault but still being put in such a situation where she has now played that role... Does this experience forcibly rewrite their respective conceptualisations of each other? Was Tuvok even thinking of her- somewhere outside, listening, worrying, blaming herself, fearing for herself, feeling ashamed, feeling so aware of him and her and the shared humiliation of this- when he was in there? Did seeing her upon coming back out change things? Could it ever change things? Did her presence, even as an outsider, whose memories of this event will always be (visually, at least) the constructs of her imagination- somehow make what happened in there real? Does her role as witness- and her memory thereby carrying some sort of legitimisation of what happened to him now, however warped and coloured by her own perspective and fears and embarrassment- make things better for Tuvok? Does it make things worse? Would he rather have endured this in secret? Would it have been better if she were a total stranger? Would it have been worse? And does any of this even matter when, for a moment, your life (your personhood, your goals, your presence) was completely reduced to what you "must endure"?

AUGRIS: We don't have to ask your friend any more questions, if you give us the answers.  TORRES: I told you I don't.  (Torres stops herself from hitting Augris, who leaves.)  TORRES: I'm sorry. I guess I always assumed that Vulcans didn't feel pain like the rest of us. That you were able to block it out somehow. Until I heard. Was that you I heard?

And the way B'Elanna's voice breaks when she asks this, as if she was still somehow hoping the answer would be no... There are complexities to this which again I don't feel like I'm smart enough to articulate, but like- yes, B'Elanna would like to hear that it wasn't him because that would mean her friend wasn't tortured "that badly", he wasn't put through "enough pain" to scream that way, and it's easier and more comfortable to think of violence (and violation) as something you can rank on a scale, and the lower on it Tuvok's experience ranks, the better! the more easy it will be for them to "move past" this! - but also, there's this element of "I want the answer to be no because that would mean I would not have been a participant in your humiliation, just some stranger's whose voice I don't have a face to put to, which is much better than having to know what you (my friend, my colleague, my respected senior officer, someone I will have to see every day on the bridge, someone I know prefers to keep vulnerabilities hidden even deeper than anyone else I know) sound like when you scream. But also... it doesn't really matter, does it...? Whatever he says, there always was still a moment- however brief- where B'Elanna heard a man screaming in agony, and thought it could've been Tuvok. And in that moment, that possibility was created. Now, it will always exist. That moment will always have happened. It will always have done something to her. It will always exist between them; an ugly, uncomfortable bond.

And this is getting into even more things I'm not smart enough to articulate, but like- it's pretty significant to me that B'Elanna is one of the few characters who never actually tries to poke Tuvok into Doing An Emotion, even normally. She doesn't consider trying to get him to crack an entertaining pastime, unlike others (and I'm sure her experiences of feeling like an outsider- always- feeling Very Visible As Klingon, play a role in this- "all they ever saw was my forehead" does not lend itself so kindly to "let's see if we can get Mr. Vulcan to smile", "why, Tuvok, it seems you've been corrupted by Human (read: default) rituals after all!"- it's a light-hearted joke for many, sure, but what if Tuvok genuinely considers the idea of smiling in the presence of others reflective of a humiliating loss of control and deeply debasing?) I think it's pretty clear from canon that he's just being himself; he's not trying to be a killjoy or trying to be mean, he's just Vulcan. And this is one of the few moments in Trek I can think of when a Vulcan's perceived "control" over their emotions is not connected with their reluctance to laugh or cry or say something sentimental, but... this. B'Elanna is shocked, she's horrified, she demands an explanation as to how he can possibly go through something like this and not feel the desire to "fight back" in a way she understands- and the way she cannot grant him the pretence of not having witnessed, here, the way she can't just shove this in a box, pretend she never heard, because she's just so fundamentally honest- and Tuvok (who is also so fundamentally honest), in a painful moment of openness, tells her exactly what his reasoning is. He lets her see. He lets her hear; on his own terms. He wants for her to understand (for her to witness?) his (very Vulcan) distinction between resistance and endurance; his understanding of endurance as its own form of resistance. Idk it's such a quietly powerful and like- devastating- moment for me... So many people try, over and over, thoughout the show, to get Tuvok to break his Vulcansona- try to make him smile, make him say tender things, make him get irritated- just to see if they can do it. Just to see if he'll ever crack. I bet B'Elanna wishes she never had.

[sword-and-lance]

Also y'know

I've also noticed I even do the "make same face as art" thing as a writer

and boy does it make writing in public kinda awkward sometimes lmao

[runekeepershymnal]

I was tagged by @heavensenthale, who shared tooth-rotting fluff, so I'm gonna go with stream of consciousness voice-messages.

Fifth: “The new season of Hachetlorette just premiered, and I don’t know how she’s gonna pick. I want to hit all these assholes with a hatchet. I mean, I want to hit a couple with one of those vintage folding metal chairs first, but same diff. Call me back or I’m gonna make a folding chair hatchet and hit you with it.”

Sixth: “I just sent you the specs for the folding chair hatchet. I’m gonna digistruct some for the next board meeting, just a heads up. Or off, whichevs.”

I'm genuinely not sure who to tag tonight; currently my hockey team is having their second date with mediocrity back to back. They broke up with mediocrity three years ago; I don't know why they're going down this road again.

If you wanna do it, then please do, consider yourself tagged, whether we're mutuals or not. I just cannot process names tonight.

@heavensenthale if you're not currently doing so, get back to work on your polygangsey fic or the puritans win.

[gold-eyes-vengeful-heart]

((Hi I swear this blog ain’t dead lmao

Runya’s just. Been INCREDIBLY bored now that he realizes that offing Legatuses isn’t actually feeling as good as he wanted it to lmao

And also Garlemald is basically dead already so he doesn’t even have that to do

So his muse has mostly just been lying around being depressed at me which isn’t exactly the most thrilling thing to write

…And then I got this one idea in my head that won’t leave me alone

But it’s semi dependent on how 6.4 goes though lmao))

[slashercult]

pick an image to find out how your future spouse is with you

reminder that not all of the messages in this reading may apply to everyone. so with that i urge you to take what resonates and leave the rest. don't force anything if it does not fit. this reading is mainly just for fun. don't forget to follow or reblog if you want to see me do more readings like this.

pile one

this person is obsessed w you, like they are in LOVE love. & i dont mean in like a creepy "they are never going to leave you alone" type of obsessed, more like you are their favorite person ever and they love hanging out w you all the time. some drake lyrics were coming thru while doing this reading: "everybody has an addiction, mine happens to be you." i feel like very rarely will this person ever not get excited to just be in your presence during your whole marriage. like i can still picture them looking at you the same way they did on your wedding day even when you're both old n grey. they also happen to be a huge romantic so it makes a lot of sense. whenever they have good news they rush to tell you bc they want you to be the first person to share their happiness with. they're overall very sweet, i don't see them being the jealous type - i think they trust you enough to be scared of you going off with some other person. and you'll never even think about anyone else when you're with them because they treat you so well.

pile two

this person's love language is deff physical touch and it'll show when you're around them. they love hugging you and being intimate and doing all that sort of stuff. they honestly do not care where you both are because nothing is going to stop them from giving you forehead kisses or hugs. they love the way that you smell, it reminds them of walks in nature and pieces from their childhood. they love teasing you as well, they're very affectionate w you. they're incredibly supportive and also humble. i see you both being on a ton of trips, particularly road trips, but normal traveling is also coming through. i feel this person may not be as outspoken ab how much they love you, like they won't outright say "i think you're the most beautiful person i know" to you but don't worry bc they definitely think that you are. they have a very unique way of showing their love and i feel that you are someone who tends to pay more attention to details than others which makes you perfect for this person because while others may overlook or misinterpret them, you see them for who they are.

pile three

this person is super fun to be around, like they have the best energy ever. & i dont mean in a "they're always the life of the party" way, more like they make even the smallest moments feel special. i feel like whenever you're having a bad day, this person knows exactly how to cheer you up without even trying. they're the kind of person who surprises you with little thingamabobs and trinkets all the time just to see you smile. like they'll randomly bring you food that you like without you even asking them. they also happen to have a great sense of humor (that's kind of subtle but you like it) so you'll always be laughing a lot together. they’re overall very supportive of you, i don’t see them being the type to criticize your dreams. you'll always feel appreciated bc they will never take you for granted. though his laid-back and relaxed personality are behaviors you see often, you know your future spouse better than anyone. they're very inspiring and honestly i feel like you both will work on a project together bc you share similar dreams (i'm seeing some sort of art form, probably like writing or smth along those lines)

thanks for reading! if you enjoyed or resonated please heart and reblog so i can do more of these readings.

[pygmi-says-hi]

writing tips - weapons! (the bladed ones)

weapons are like stupid people; they're everywhere. especially in writing!

bad joke mb guys.

Welllllll for those of you sadistic nerds who like all things sharp, shiny and dangerous, here you are!

Whether or not your character is an assassin or a casual hunter, proper knowledge and use of weapons is important knowledge for a writer! especially if your editor won't get off your ass and you need to dispose of them find a new perspective.

Now, the thing about weapons is that they can be used for many things, but have one 'correct use'. such as - a knife can be used as a nail file, scalpel, scissors, razor and a fork, but it's really only supposed to be for cutting. or stabbing.

here are guides to blades and stabbies alike.

Scythes

Scythes were originally designed for reaping grain. They are a crescent shaped thingamabob with one sharp edge and one blunter edge. The sharp is on the inside of the crescent. You might see them carried by reapers in folklore, as in the idea of 'reaping/sowing souls'.

Good uses: slicing, cleaving, swiping, one-hit kills

bad uses: stabbing, blunt force, combative fighting. the blade is curved and won't make proper contact with the flesh to really jam in there. it'll just be awkward and messy.

Rapiers (NOT THE SAME AS BROADSWORDS!) i included pics dw

this bad boy.

Double edged, very sharp, thin blade.

good for: combat, thrusting/stabbing

bad for: impact hits, leverage (as in bracing a door or using as a lever), and a defensive weapon.

Swords like broadswords

Shorter blades than rapiers, with a thicker steel and a fatter handle. Can be double or single edged - double edged are good for stabbing, single are not.

Good for: fighting, stabbing, slicing, decapitating, impalement, impact

Bad for: melee

tips on swords: swords are really fucking heavy. Like idk if you have ever held an honest-to-god sword (not the amazon ones) but they weigh so much. If your character has an injured arm, they are gonna be really slow. the fighting is gonna be sloppy af.

also, the butt of swords are fantastic for blunt force trauma!!

Garrotes

garrotes are thin, sharp wires used to strangle people. can honestly be made out of anything rope-like but are most effective when wire or coarse rope.

Good for: strangulation

Bad for: everything else. except as a shoelace idk

Pretty narrowly useful, good for close-up stuff but only work if you have good bodily leverage over the opponent. small margin of error with these.

I will make a part two. bye for now!

[the-kr8tor]

Could we get some chill fluffy writing/hcs of hobie with an S/o that likes hanging out with minimal talking? Yknow just sharing their space and feeling safe :3? ❤️❤️❤️

S'cute!! Thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF!

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You enter his workspace with a blanket trailing behind you, a thick encyclopedia-like book in the crook of your arm, and two mugs of steaming tea. The door was already open, a sign that Hobie openly invites you in. He feels your presence immediately, taking his eyes off from the contraption he's been tinkering with for hours, he senses that you want to be near him without interrupting his flow of work. To which he's most grateful for, he'd hug you if not for the high voltage tech he's handling.

“Plannin’ on stayin’, lovie?” Hobie asks, goggles fitted on his eyes, rubber gloves on his hands that he silently curses at because he can't hold you with it on— and because of the electricity coursing through his tools.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod, placing his cup on another table, safe from all his tools and thingamabobs. “Can I?”

“‘course.” You smile sweetly, leaning slightly, lips puckered up and head tilting questioningly. Hobie chuckles, and without another word, he purses his lips to meet with yours.

Your lips feel slightly tingly, you guess it's from the electricity. Nonetheless, you gladly kiss back even though it was quicker than you'd like. It's for your own good you bet as he beams up at you, goggles making him look a thousand times cuter than he already is. (which you thought was impossible at first) His brown eyes are all big and round, a sight that has you giggling and wanting to kiss him more. But alas, he has to continue working so that you have the rest of the day with him.

“I'll be there in a bit, yeah?” He whispers to you, matching your energy, and you immediately want to kiss him back for it. Fighting the urge to hold you, he returns to his work.

You nod, walking quietly to the cozy armchair that he specifically placed for you. It's a deep green colour, just looking at it brings you at peace. Laying your mug in the cup holder (which he installed for you) you wrap yourself with the blanket, perfectly tucking yourself in. With your book opened on your lap, you begin to relax whilst the soft whirs of Hobie's tools fills your ears.

You read while he works quietly, just two people living in comfortable silence. And loving each other in the same room but in different corners of it, it's love all the same.

Mug now empty, and belly fully warmed up, you're on page 210 when you feel him snuggle up to you. Hobie sits on the arm of the seat, body slightly folded to accommodate for your own; chin tucked atop your shoulder, lips brushing along your cheek. His arm finds its place wrapped along your middle, palm splayed over your stomach that he has since moved the blanket and your shirt over to feel you closer. Skin still warm, skin still making you giddy after all these years. His other hand meets with the other, fingers linking together, properly warming you up and embracing you like a burrito.

You lean close to Hobie, pulling him impossibly closer by the ribbons on his sweatpants. He chuckles against your skin, pressing a quick affectionate peck on your shoulder. You inhale his presence, he smells of steel and the green tea you've made him earlier.

For a minute, you two just sit there, you read and he watches your expression change depending on the paragraph you're reading. You suddenly sigh longingly, curious, Hobie follows your line of sight, reading it silently with you.

Hobie scoffs in place, rolling his eyes at the passage you're currently on. He points at the exact sentence that's full of pining and longing from the main character. You look at him as he points to himself right after, making a face that says ‘can’t be me, love’ and his hand gesturing a slash across his neck.

You raise an eyebrow, wordlessly saying, ‘you sure about that?’ Poking his chest, you shake your head with a smile and then you point at the same passage in the book repeatedly. ‘this was literally you, Hobie’

He shakes his head, mirroring you, ‘no, ‘m not.’

You correct him with a simple gesture that you know will have him melting into you further. And you winning the ‘argument’ Holding his cheek with one hand, thumb pressing softly on his chin, you lean forward, eyes slowly shutting close, lips reaching for his own.

Of course he'd chase your lips, especially when you flutter your eyelashes at him like that! His hands fly towards your own face, tenderly holding you close. Your lips brush along his, but before he could finally close the small distance, you move away with a smug smile. Hobie's mouth is agape, feigning offense. He follows where your finger points at the book where the main character literally did what he just did, chasing down his love interest’s lips like a thirsty man stranded in the desert.

You lovingly poke him again. ‘it’s you’

He sighs, defeated, ‘it's me.’

You're not a monster, so with all your heart, you continue what you didn't do just a moment ago. Wrapping your arms around him just like he did to you, you kiss him just like in the books you devour, you devour him also. To which Hobie clearly indulges himself in.

[takenbypeter]

Hi! Could you write a Hank McCoy x Reader fic with one of these dialogue prompts? (Whatever you feel like)

5. "God, you always make me blush so damn much." (Nicholas Hoult is always blushing so I thought it would be nice if Hank did as well)

23. "Wait...are you making pancakes? Can I help?" (He seems like the type of person who cooks)

25. "Have you been drinking enough water?" (He is a doctor)

I'm pretty sure I read every fic with him in this site and I want more.😂

Doctor’s Orders

Hank McCoy x reader

Number 25: “Have you been drinking enough water?”

(Reader is AFAB)

Hehe I couldn't decide so I did all of them, sorry it took so long, I went through like a no writing phase but I think I'm slowly returning

Sometimes you hated having a uterus. More specifically you hated it when it was that time of the month. How you hated even being born whenever that time hit and of course that was today. 

Instead of listening to your body and wallowing in pain as the cramps hit hard that morning, practically almost making you spit up your dinner from the night before, you put on your adult shoes and chose to be productive around the X-mansion as you usually did. 

Most days weren’t so bad, you’d help with the younger level kids here and there before you did some of your own training but today? Today they were rowdy for whatever reason, maybe the weather, all you knew was that you wanted this week to be done already. 

You tried your hardest to just be there, be present as you seemed to be running around all day at different peoples beck and call when all you really wanted to do was curl up and scream but of course that wasn’t like you. So you had to plaster a fake customer smile. But you could even barely do that anymore as halfway through the day you decided your body couldn’t take it anymore. So you went to the one place you knew no one would bother you. 

The labs. 

Most of the time it was just Hank in the labs and you of course didn’t want to bother him when he may be working but then again he was your boyfriend and you were in a lot of pain. So you went. 

You entered his labs slowly and peeking around the entrance, you saw that luckily he wasn’t dealing with any chemicals at the moment. 

“Thank god you’re working,” when he worked that meant everyone knew not to disturb him, well everyone but apparently you. 

His arms set down whatever thingamabob was in his hands, “please come in why don’t you?”

You did realize it was rude, “sorry,” you mumbled out as you backed up into the nearest corner and squatted down. With your knees to your stomach you instantly felt better even if only just a little. 

With your head tucked into your legs you could just feel the strange sight he most certainly had on you. “Don’t mind me…” you breathed as a big cramp just made its way, “just go about your way, I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“If you think I’m going to be able to focus while you’re scrunched up in the corner like that you’re absolutely crazy.”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice muffled.

You didn’t see it but you could tell Hank was staring at you. But he was staring at you not with disbelief more with worry. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Nothing just got my period this morning, I’ll be fine.” Typically this only happened to you on maybe the first two days and usually you just toughed it out.

Suddenly an overwhelming cramp could be felt in your lower stomach area, you groaned as you leaned forward, your knees now against the floor with your forehead touching the floor “…just give me a moment,” you said, refusing to move from that spot with your arms clutching your body. 

“Have you been drinking enough water?”

Ugh. That question wouldn’t have annoyed you if the answer was yes. But it’s not your fault everyone seemed to need your help left and right. 

“Maybe half a bottle so far,” you said. 

His mouth drops, “that’s not nearly enough.”

“Yeah yeah, thank you doctor,” you cut off, still hurting.  

You don’t pay mind to the noise you hear shuffling before you see a bottle being held out towards you. 

You reach out, taking it with a thanks. “Wait here,” he commands before he turns around. Not like I have much choice, you thought as you closed your eyes again feeling a little bit better as the cramps randomly subside for a moment. 

Pretty soon you hear Hank’s footsteps come back and you begin to hear shuffling beside you. Curious, you open your eyes and watch as he sets down a blanket beside you. Then a makeshift pillow made out of a jacket. 

He didn’t even have to say anything and you moved there willingly. You didn’t care that the floor was hard underneath, you were just glad to lie down somewhere. 

While you lay there on your side feeling like garbage he hands you a warm heating pad which you gladly take and he moves the water bottle closer to you before he takes another blanket and covers you with it. 

“Drink your water and let your body take a break,” he adds. 

Once he makes sure you’re all settled his eyes catch yours as you lay with a smile on your face. 

“What?”

“You love me,” you sing-song almost like a kid would. 

Although a grin starts to tug at one of the corners of his lips he reaches out dragging his hand down your face closing your eyes in the process as you would a departed person. 

“Get some rest.”

Your eyes open again as you watch him leave your side to return back to his work. ��He loves me,’ you teased once again in thought as you snuggled with the blanket and heating pad.

~

Dialogue Prompt #2

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: Nonsense Words

It is by no means clear how we should spell most of these words – and accordingly they tend to be omitted from dictionaries, whose focus is generally on the written language. They are nonetheless an important element in the English lexicon, providing speakers with a signal that they are unable to retrieve a lexeme – either because it has slipped their mind, or perhaps because there is a lexical gap in the language. Such nonsense words occur in many variant forms and pronunciations.

deeleebob; deeleebobber; diddleebob; diddleydo; diddleything; diddleythingy; dingus; dingdong; dingy; dooda; doodad; doohickey; gadget; geega; gewgaw; gimmick; gizmo; goodie; hootenanny; lookit; oojamaflop; thingamabob; thingamabobbit; thingamajig; thingummy; thingummybob; thingy; thingybob; whatchacallem; whatchacallit; whatchamacallit; whatever; whatsisname; whatsit; whatsits; whatnot; whosis; whosit; whosits; widget

‘Professor’ Stanley Unwin (1911–2002), British stage and film comic personality, renowned in the 1960s for the fluent neologistic style of his academic opinions: The humour cannot be totally captured by writing the words down. The comic effect depends not just on his bizarre lexical creations but on the way these are uttered deadpan using a perfectly routine conversational style.

Not all coinages have to mean something before they can achieve currency – as this example from the Walt Disney film Mary Poppins illustrates. Sung by Julie Andrews in the title role, it is probably the most famous nonsense word of the century: Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

However, it is by no means the longest nonsense word to appear in a book or script. That accolade probably belongs to James Joyce, one of whose 100-letter blends. It is one of ten linguistic thunderclaps in Finnegans Wake, symbolizing the great fall of Tim Finnegan from his ladder: Bothallchoractorschumminaroundgansumuminarumdrumstrumtruminahumptadumpwaultopoofoolooderamaunsturnup!

Source ⚜ More References: Word Lists

[alien-ally]

Kbls usually never go dark like this, that's usually jbl's realm. They ended it on a positive note, the happy ending route. But the implications are many nonetheless.

Seeing people finding the ending more tragic than happy, made me wanna type this out. i.e why i decidedly am not gonna interpret it that way. given those takes are all valid and made we view the show in a different light still.

So people are wondering if yeowoon exists in the 'real' world. If he's just a mirror made for myungha to love himself. Especially since all the characters, from yeowoon to kyunghun to sangwon seem to represent some part of myungha. his depression, isolation, reputation for being good at fighting etc. If it's all just to comfort him in his last moments. aka the 'afterlife'. However, i dont believe this. Interpreting it in this way is too tragic for me so i go for the parallel universe version of interpretation. one where, myungha is transported into an alternate timeline to have his chance at life. a world where things went differently. as we all hope and wonder sometimes 'had things gone differently’, so and so wouldn't/would have happened' etc. Although, choosing this puts me at odds with the sunbae plot as I don't like the idea of a supernatural being who possesses that sort of power. (I'm an atheist) I'd just think that yeowoon, as other people have supplied is a real person, back in myungha's original world too, just they remained strangers in that timeline. Since all the other characters seem to be here intact. (His ex., mom, grandma etc.) 

But the idea, of a friend, writing a novel to immortalize a friend, to feel through his grief and deciding to create a happy ending for him, that he himself never lived to see, quite literally makes my heart explode. All those texts. ‘i think of you, in every season, every day that comes by, but there's no day I'll get to see you' 

That shot of myungha walking into the sea, not about to jump (like yeowoon was) but directly walking into it, still clad in his funeral clothes, against that haunting midnight blue sky, might be the most evocative thing I've ever seen. This show has left me dazed, viscerally affected.

[resident-gay-bitch]

Remus loves books, he loves reading so much and Sirius knows this. He knows this so well because half the time when he wants Remus to look at him, and pay attention to him, Remus simply just won’t because he’s so bloody, infuriatingly, adorably invested in whatever book it is he’s reading.

It doesn’t even matter the genre, Sirius has learnt, nor that it’s fictional or otherwise. Just words on yellowing pages, with cracked spines and a warm smell emanating from within, that’s what Remus loves. He likes to escape there, to lose focus, time, and reality. And Sirius respects it.

He used to love reading himself, when he was younger. His favorite books were fantasy action. He got lost in the tales and strange lands, imagining himself as the noble hero, saving lives and running off into the sunset on a noble steed, or perhaps even with a lover.

He’s lost the knack for it these days, mostly. Sometimes he still picks up a book to read, if it really captivates him. Or if it’s so painstakingly good that Remus, rather than just expressing that it was enjoyable to read and outlining the basic plot, rambles about it for ages. Especially if he goes back and reads it a second time over, taking a quill to the pages, underlining his favorite phrases, adding exclamation marks for emphasis, and writing out every thought he has about it.

Sirius always reads those, but mostly for Remus’ input. And mostly so he can sit there and listen to Remus talk about it again, and get so brilliantly excited when Sirius agrees that particular characters sucked, or when they disagree about how certain plot points were brilliant, or how painstakingly heartbreaking the use of symbolism added so much depth to the entire book.

Sirius has two large bookshelves in his room. Both of them he’s built himself because he refuses to let Effie and Flea spend any extra money on him, and he himself doesn’t want to spend money on bookshelves when he can just make them. He also made Remus one, when he first learnt just how much Remus likes to read, when he first moved in with James. He’s still very proud of it to this day.

Point is, he has two large bookshelves, and they’re each only half full of books. There are other things on them, taking up the space. Such as his record collection, which is excessive now, and brilliant, and takes up a lot of space. It’s also riddled with gadgets, and thingamabobs, and dust collectors, and whatsits, as well as little things he’s tinkered.

He’s building himself another shelf at the moment, this one will have a stained glass door- so, more of a cabinet, he supposes. It’s made especially for his records, measured to fit the height and width of them perfectly with just a little wiggle room. That, once it’s done, will clear out plenty of space on his bookshelf for more books.

He’ll build himself another shelf or two, he thinks. Ones to mount one the wall, a place to keep all his little things that don’t really have a place, other than randomly on his bookshelves. He wants to leave as much room as possible.

Because, see, Sirius doesn’t read much. And the books he does read are already found on his shelf, or Remus’, because he borrows them.

But Remus reads a lot. He’s always looking for new books, everywhere he goes. Sirius can’t count the times he’s been pulled into random stores just to look at books for hours, only for Remus to walk out empty handed.

Because Remus doesn’t have the money for books. He never has. Maybe a few, here and there, cheep ones that is, from second hand stores. And on his birthday and Christmas his parents spoil him by picking out a couple of big ones.

But Remus’ money is saved for things other than books.

That hasn’t been much of an issue, because there are libraries. He spends a lot of time in the library at Hogwarts, when they’re there. And over the breaks, he spends it in the library by his house. And he borrows books from Sirius, and James, and Lily, and Peter, and Mary, and Marlene too.

But the thing is, Remus is running out of books. And sure, he’s happy to read the non fictional books, ones about the history of magic, or life in the trenches of the First Muggle World War, or how to bake cakes, or the biography of Salazar Slytherin, or whatever the hell else he can find. But nothing captivates him the way a good story can.

He needs tales to escape in between the more boring stuff. Remus never raves about the non-fiction. Sure, he tells Sirius random facts when he finds them out, or puts his new knowledge to use. But the novelty of a made up world excites him.

Sirius likes to watch Remus read fiction. He likes to watch Remus shift in his chair and tense his shoulders, he likes to watch blush bloom over Remus’ cheeks with a giddy smile as his eyes twinkle and lock onto the page. He also likes when he hears Remus’ sharp gasps, and gets to look up to find him sitting in the most awkward, on edge positions as he fixedly reads, and watches as tears begin to roll down Remus’ cheeks and dance over freckles.

He mostly likes when Remus smiles at his page, sure and familiar, a knowing look in his eye that makes him glimmer right before he looks up to try and find Sirius in the room, and blush immediately when he does before tucking his face back into the pages. Sirius likes that one the best, because he knows, whatever Remus read, it made him think of Sirius. He especially likes when Remus scribbles something on the page right after, or just dog ears the corner so he’ll never loose the page.

Sirius really likes when Remus finds a good story, and Remus clearly also likes when he finds a good Story. Remus doesn’t have the funds to by himself stories and has read his way through the entirety of his local libraries fictional section, as well as everything on Sirius’ own shelf twice.

But Sirius does have the funds for books. He has part of the inheritance his uncle Alphard left when he died, he has his weekly allowance from the Potters, as does James, and he has money saved up from working in Mrs Florence’ garden across the road all summer.

So he goes out, and buys books, and hopes Remus hasn’t read them.

He gets home, and puts them on his own shelf, because the last time Sirius bought a book for Remus just simply because he wanted to, Remus slapped him with the book, made his knee buckle with his cane, and told Sirius to never spend his money on him again.

So naturally, Sirius stole him a book, and Remus hit him twelve times with the new book, called him a stupid fucking idiot, and made him promise to never do it again.

He then promptly went and read the book, and made a note at the very back that Sirius was the one who got it for him, with a star placed by his name, thinking Sirius wouldn’t notice. Because Sirius would never snoop through Remus’ bookshelf when he’s not looking to try and read whatever annotations from Remus’ brain he could, hoping to find one that Remus made after doing his adorable glance and thinking of Sirius. No, no he’d never do that, Remus, he promises.

So Sirius buys himself books, ones that wouldn’t look too out of place sitting on his shelves, ones he doesn’t recognise Remus ever holding (though, that doesn’t mean much as Remus reads at the pace of a race car, Sirius is sure there’s a new book in his hand each time Sirius looks up), and prays Remus will like them. He thinks he will. He likes most books.

Sirius just hopes he makes annotations in them before he remembers they’re not his books, and puts them back on Sirius’ shelf to find.

So Sirius stacks them on his shelf, and waits for Remus to take the bait.

The first time Remus comes into his room once they’re there, he clearly notices, but doesn’t comment. So Sirius goes out to buy another.

The second time, he makes a comment, asking if Sirius ever actually reads the books he carelessly spends money on, and nothing else.

So Sirius buys another book, and begins to read the one with the most interesting cover. He makes sure the spine is cracked, the pages withered, and a crease on the cover from bending it wrong.

Remus notices it, the next time he visits, and asks if Sirius enjoyed it. He didn’t mind it, but he tells Remus he really liked the character named Liam (who reminds him vividly of Remus), and recommends it. Remus takes it home. Sirius rambles to James about how brilliantly smart his plan is for hours.

The next time Remus comes around, he returns the book. It’s in a similar state to when Sirius had last seen it, besides a few extra wrinkles on the spine, and creased pages. Sirius smiles and admires it for a while once Remus has left, with another book, another one Sirius made himself read, he didn’t like that one at all.

Naturally, Remus really enjoyed that one. They argue about it for a while, and Remus tosses the book at Sirius with a laugh, and Sirius resists the urge to throw himself back at Remus.

James and Peter go out in the sun, but Remus’ hip is bad that day, so Sirius stays inside with him. He sits and watches Remus read, it’s one of his own books, one he’s read at least four times before. He’s got a pen between his teeth that he keeps pulling out to scribble things down before placing it back.

Sirius wishes he were a pen.

Remus finishes his book and whines about it for a while, because he doesn’t have another, and he can’t stand to go outside. So Sirius gets up, grabs a book, and plops it in Remus’ lap. Remus blushes. It’s some muggle book, it’s about magic folk, and fairies, and a really cool protagonist with long black hair and tattoos and a winning grin.

He’s not even shy when he tells Remus he bought it so he could read about himself. Remus lightly thwacks him with his cane and tells Sirius to fuck off.

Sirius sits on the bed, and grabs Remus’ discarded book, and opens it up to page one. Already there, marked in blurry ink on the first page reads: this is what it feels like to have a star wish on you, right back. Sirius smiles, and begins to read, mostly for Remus’ annotations, but the book is good no less. It’s about doomed love, written through the metaphore of the night sky, and unsettling undertones of cannibalalistic desire, all wrapped up in one neat little bow that ties itself off with an accidental murder suicide.

Honestly, Sirius understands why Remus likes it now. He’s heard Remus talk about it in great detail before but bloody hell, it’s good. And Remus’ annotations make it better.

“Bloody-fuck.” Remus gasps, catching Sirius off guard. He sticks his head up and wonders how on earth Remus had gotten to the “bloody-fuck” part of the story yet, that’s over halfway through, and they’ve only been reading for twenty minuets.

“What’s the issue?” Sirius asks.

“Do you have an eraser?” Remus asks, “A magic one, for ink? Can’t use my wand.”

“Erm, no…” Sirius mutters. He knows Flea has one in his office, and he’s allowed to go get it if he ever needs, knowing it sits in the top left drawer, right by the paperclips. But he doesn’t say that, not yet.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Remus mumbles, “I forgot it wasn’t- I just… I still had the pen in my mouth.”

Sirius feels his heart race, “Remus, did you… write in my book?”

Remus looks so ashamed, and he holds up the neat pages and flips through all that he’s read, and… yeah, there’s a lot in there already. Scribbled lines, phrases, exclamation points, question marks, little stars drawn everywhere.

Sirius feels himself fall a little harder in love, “You can write in my book.” He mutters and swallows, “You can write in all of my books, whatever you like. It doesn’t matter, I probably won’t read most of them anyway.” Sirius lies. If they have Remus’ annotations he certainly will.

“Why would you buy them then?”

Sirius shrugged, “I had empty space on my bookshelf… I like having them there. Besides, I could read them, you know, I just… usually don’t.”

Remus snickers and shakes his head, “You’re strange- like a dragon. You’re a dragon that hoards treasure. Your treasure is books.”

Wrong, Sirius thinks, my treasure is you.

“A dragon.” Sirius mutters, “Do you fear me, Remus, a big mighty dragon?”

Remus scoffs and turns back to the book, “You’re such a small dragon you don’t even have the ability to fly.”

Sirius throws his pillow at Remus’ head. Remus laughs, flipping Sirius off, which only spurs him on.

Sirius promptly jumps off the bed and changes to Padfoot midway through the air, landing right on the arm of the chair Remus occupies before crawling all over him.

“Get off me, you stupid mutt!” Remus laughs, tacking Padfoot away, “You’re going to rip the book.”

Padfoot only barks and wags his tail high in the air.

Remus laughs again, sticking his good leg out where Sirius now sits on the ground, he uses it to pet Sirius’ side as he fixes his hair and book.

Padfoot tilts his head up at Remus, tongue hanging out of his mouth, as he watches.

“I can really write in it?”

Padfoot scoots closer, licking Remus’ knee.

Remus snickers and shoes him away, “You’re so gross, Padfoot. Your dog slobber stinks, you know that?”

Padfoot barks, resting his paw on top of Remus’ hand for a moment.

“Fine.” Remus breaths, “But you can write in mine too, that means.”

Sirius will be, he knows it.

Padfoot, however, watches Remus go back to reading, too invested to pay him any mind now. He plucks the pen from his ear and starts making more marks. Padfoot rests his head on Remus’ knee, and mindlessly, Remus reaches out to pet him.

That’s how James and Peter find them, two hours later. Remus deeply concentrated, halfway through his book, and Padfoot looking up at him like he hung the sky. James teases Sirius mercilessly about it later.

Over the week, Sirius reads. He reads Remus’ book, the one he left behind so Sirius could finish reading. And Sirius takes a red inked pen, because one time Remus said Sirius looks good in the colour red, and makes his own annotations. There aren’t many, as there isn’t much room left and Remus has basically said it all, but he underlines the things he likes, and draws wonky little circles half shaded in by the things that make him think of Remus (they’re supposed to be moons, and he hopes Remus won’t be able to tell at first, because the first wonky circle is placed right next to the phrase: nothing consumes her they way the need to taste his skin on her tongue does-).

The next time Sirius sees Remus, they’re at the Lupins. He brought Remus’ book with his own red annotations, and two other books, one about space, and one about a dog that dies.

He’s almost at the end of the one where the dog dies, and it’s honeslty devastating. It’s bound to make Remus sad. So very, very sad.

They sit on Remus’ bed, Remus up by the headboard, and Sirius himself laying over the foot on his stomach, a pillow tucked under his chin.

He’s crying, down to the last pages of his book, his heart being ripped out of his chest as he reads. When he started crying, Remus silently extended his legs and crossed them, letting his heels sit on the small of Sirius’ back. Because Remus is brilliant, and he knows Sirius likes to be touched when he’s sad.

He closes his book with a sigh, buries his face in the pillow, and screams. Remus laughs.

“You have to read this, Moony. It’s devastating.” Sirius sobs.

“If you insist.” Remus agrees, still reading his book.

“The dog dies!” Sirius rolls onto his side to look at him, “He dies, Remus, isn’t that horrible. I mean- it was bad enough for me, I can’t imagine what it would be like for you.”

Remus glances up over his book at raises an eyebrow at Sirius.

“You know…” Sirius sniffles, rubbing his nose before waving his hand through the air, “Because I’m a dog, and you won’t be able to stop thinking about me, and losing me, and-“

A pillow was thrown at his head so hard it shoved him back. But Sirius loves the dramatics, so he takes it further, and rolls until he topples off the end of the bed and groans about betrayal. Remus pretends not to listen, Remus continues to read. Sirius wants to give him the world.

Sirius eventually gets up and selects a book off of Remus’ shelf, admiring his own handiwork for a moment. He flicks the book open, and finds no annotations, so he puts it back. He grabs another, finds the same, and repeats.

“What are you looking for?” Remus asks.

Unashamedly, Sirius tells him, “One with your thoughts written out. Those are my favourites.” He picks up another, sifts through, and puts it back.

He turns when Remus is quiet for a while, he’s grinning, like he expects to find Remus with his head in his book, so distracted he didn’t hear. But he’s not.

Remus is blushing, and he’s looking at Sirius so curiously.

“I like your thoughts.” Sirius clears his throat, “You’re smart, they’re interesting. Besides, I hate not knowing what’s going to happen, you always manage to make correct predictions, so good at picking up clues.”

Remus smiles and ducks his head before reaching out and grabbing a book off his bedside. He tosses it at Sirius, “That one’s a children’s novel. It’s about a frog. I’ve annotated it seven times.”

“Brilliant.” Sirius grins, plopping himself back down on his bed and opening the book, “I love frogs.”

Remus laughs, a quiet laugh, embarrassed and bashful. They both continue to read. Sirius pulls out his pen and scribbles a red, wonky circle when the frog finds himself in love.

Four weeks later, and Sirius and Remus have been swapping books back and forth in trade. Remus takes his pick of whatever is on Sirius’ shelf, or whatever he’s “accidentally” left at Remus’ place, and in turn, Sirius reads whatever books Remus has annotated. Eventually, he begins to read his own, purely for Remus’ annotations.

Remus never fails to leave annotations, and Sirius leaves them right back.

One time, Sirius even worked up the courage to write annotations in one of his own books before handing it off for Remus to read, just in hopes of Remus liking them too.

He does. He circles Sirius’ annotations with his own black ink, and adds little stars in random places, and he even goes so far as to argue with Sirius in the margins.

This week, they meet at the movies with James and Peter. As they wait in the popcorn line together, Sirius hands him two books. One of Remus’ own that he’s returning, and one from his collection. He read it, another book about love. There was a line about reliability, and loyalty, and pure, blinding admiration, even in petty fights and bickering, and Sirius took a bold step and wrote: This reminds me of us.

Remus returns the book about a fierce dragon, and slaps a new one in his hands about a man driven to murder by his untidy roommate, “Maybe you’ll learn something from this one, hmm?”

Sirius didn’t get it until the book was done, and he had read every snarky remark aimed right at Sirius that Remus wrote, including the note at the end that requested Sirius keep his mess to his corner of the room before Remus is driven to a murderous fate. Sirius laughed so hard James came rushing into the room out of pure concern.

The next time they exchanged books, Sirius gave him one titled The Picture of Dorian Grey. Remus had already read it. Sirius scoffed, knowing this would happen sooner or later. However, when Sirius moved to put it back in his bag, Remus snatched it away. He only borrowed it last time, so now he could write his annotations, which excited him. It excited Sirius too.

“I have a strange one for you.” Remus said, handing it over nervously, “I… I’ve read this one a lot.”

“Okay?” Sirius asked, taking it slowly, looking at the cover, so withered he couldn’t clearly make out the image.

Remus swallowed, “It’s really one of my favorites.”

“I can’t wait, then.” Sirius grinned, flicking through it quickly and seeing almost no room to leave his own messages.

Remus nodded, “Just… just beware, okay?”

“Okay, Remus, I’ve got it.” Sirius snickered, wiggling the book like a fan, “What, has it got like, wild kinky sex in it. Does this book delve into your deepest desires, Remus? Does it make you feel sexy?” Sirius teases.

Remus swallows and turns his gaze away.

Sirius’ jaw goes slack, “Oh, my Merlin- I… it does.”

Remus blush’s, “Look- it’s not like that, it’s just-“ He mumbles, hiding his head in his hands, “Yes, there is a sex scene in it, near the end. It’s very long, and very detailed. But that’s not- I’m not trying to be weird, okay? I’d prefer to not give you a sexy book-“

Sirius snickers, “I was only teasing, Remus, it’s fine. Is that the weird bit? The long, sensual sex scene?”

“Mostly… it’s… well, I suppose it’s everything that leads up to it.” Remus swallows.

“Got it.” Sirius nods, and because he’s his own worst enemy, he asks, “Do you get off to it?”

Remus’ front door promptly slams in his face, and no matter how hard he knocks, or laughs, or pretends he’s joking, Remus does not open the door.

Sirius goes home, and he very pointedly does not pick up the book. He’s too nervous now. To nervous to read about this sex scene in Remus’ most favorite book and wonder if he’s ever… Sirius flops face down into his pillow and goes to annoy James instead.

When they meet up to swap back, Sirius still hasn’t read the book yet. He makes up an excuse, telling Remus he hasn’t been focused enough to read something important. Remus doesn’t seem to believe him, he seems so disappointed. He gives Sirius back The Picture Of Dorian Gray and barely talks for the remainder of their time spent together.

When Sirius gets home, he flips through Remus’ annotations, reading them all, and having to do a double take at one. Sure, there are plenty of snide comments about Sirius’ good looks, comparing him to Dorian and making theories on how Sirius must be in a similar situation. But there’s one that makes Sirius’ heart race: I’m annoyed at you. This entire fucking book Dorian’s been described as the most beautiful fucking man on earth and the only face I can fucking picture is yours you bloody idiot. Stop being beautiful, please? It’s detrimental to my sanity.

Sirius’ breath hitched in his throat. He ran to James, immediately, crashing into his room and jumping on the bed, not even caring he’s just interrupted James with his shirt off in a very compromising position with Lily. He doesn’t even care that she’s there.

“Look at this, James, read-“

“Really, Sirius? Now?”

“I’m sorry, Prongs, but you’ve got your happy ending so I don’t care- look.” Sirius shoves the page in his face, “What does this mean?”

James shoves on his glasses and gives Lily an apologetic glance before reading, “What the fuck do you think it means, Sirius?”

“I don’t know.” Sirius breathes, running his fingers over the black ink, “It could mean anything-“

“Sirius!” James laughed, flinging his hands into the air, “It means exactly whatever the hell your heart thinks it means, probably.”

Sirius glares and James and turns to Lily, “You’re smart, what do-“

“Might I remind you, Remus is my best friend, Sirius?” Lily smirked, “So no, I won’t be saying anything, and if you’re smart, you’ll know that’s enough. And I warn you, I will be telling him about this.”

Sirius swallowed and glared at her, “Shit.”

“Shit in deed, Romeo.” She giggled, “Go away please.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed, crawling off the bed, “Not too loud, please.”

James tossed a pillow at him.

“Hey, Sirius?” Lily asked, catching his attention, “You should read his book.”

“Right.” Sirius swallows, and very pointedly does not do that. He goes to make dinner with Effie and Flea, and ask them questions about it instead. They just say the same things James did, and they’re old and happy and very in love, so he actually trusts that.

That night, he lies in bed, a lamp over his shoulder, and he learns extactly why Remus seemed so nervous to share this book. Especially about the sex part, which was… well, it was really sexy. Like, so sexy. Sirius didn’t think anything could ever get that sexy. All he could think about whilst reading was Remus, and how badly he wanted to do those things to Remus, and how he wanted Remus to do those things to him. It was terrible, really.

So good, and so terrible, and so delightfully strange to read about. Because, in the start, the main character was engaged to a very wonderful woman. But by the end, he had left her. He left her because he loved a man. Two men in love. Remus’ favorite book was gay, with so many annotations about his own experiences, with a gay sex scene, with annotations about how much Remus liked the sex scene.

And most of all…

Sirius knew exactly what a lot of those annotations meant. Because around them were little stars. Within them they used “he” and “him” and terms of longing and yearning and… and then it got to a point midway through the book where things changed.

Remus stopped writing things like: I think of him. He’s more beautiful. I’m scared to lose him too.

Instead, he just used one word. One word scribbled everywhere. Beside so many different phrases, with different intentions and different feelings. One word that shattered it all, and that word was: Sirius.

Beside the phrase, he’s so beautiful, I hate him.

Beside the phrase, I miss him, I never got to have him but I miss him, no less.

Beside the phrase, kissing the expanse of his throat is something I think about often, no thought could be as beautifully filthy as mine when he’s around.

Beside the phase, I love him.

“Wakey, wake- oh, you’re up love. Are you alright, I’ve never seen you up with the sun before.” Effie teases as she walks into his room.

Sirius turns to her, eyes blinking. They’re red rimmed from crying. He didn’t realise it was morning. He still has the book in his lap, open to the last page where there’s a message. It’s an apology, and then that apology is taken right back and replaced with a heart.

“I didn’t sleep.” He muttered.

“Oh…” Effie mutters when she sees the state of him, “My darling boy, are you-“

“I have to go.” Sirius whispers.

“What?” She asks.

“I have to go.” Sirius says with more urgency, and he scrambles to his feet and makes a run for it.

“Shoes, dear!” Effie calls, and Sirius runs right back. He stuffs his feet in his slippers and runs off again, “Teeth!”

Sirius races back and hurriedly brushes his teeth. She calls for him again to change his clothes and eat when he tries to leave again, but he doesn’t bother. He just grabs the book and runs, tying not to slip in his slippers.

“Where’s he going?” James asked, standing his his doorway.

“Im not sure.” Effie said, “He’s still in his pyjamas. All he had was a book-“

“A blue one?” James asked.

Effie nodded. James rapt his knuckles on the doorframe and ducked his head inside, “Lily, he’s doing it!”

“Oh, yes!” She shouts back.

James gets a slap on the back of his head, “Did you sneak your girlfriend in over night, James Fleaumont Potter?”

James goes red, “Erm… no?”

Sirius is rushing. He couldn’t get Elvendork up and running, she still needs a few more tweaks. So he’s running there instead. All the way to Remus’ at who knows what time of morning.

When he gets there, he’s panting. He knocks on the door, but there’s no answer.

Lyall is probably at work, Hope is probably tending to her garden out back, and Remus is no doubt still sleeping. He’s worse than Sirius, he’ll sleep until something wakes him up, meaning he’ll sleep through till the next morning if nothing does.

Sirius doesn’t wait, he’s around the corner and shoving open Remus’ window, and hauling himself in before he can even think about it.

The desk that usually sits under Remus’ window is not there. So when Sirius dives in head first, expecting to catch himself on a desk, he’s rather shocked to come toppling down to the floor face first.

He groans, splayed out there on the ground, looking at the roof.

“What… the fuck?” He hears Remus mutter, and he pokes his head up to find that Remus is in the process of rearranging his room.

Sirius furrows his brow and looks at the time, “Why the fuck are you up and active at seven ten in the morning?” He runs his face and sits up, “Why are you rearranging your room?”

“I was stressed.” Remus swallowed, “Didn’t sleep.”

“Why?” Sirius groaned, his nose hurts, so he pokes it, which doesn’t help.

“Lily said you read what I wrote about you in Dorian Gray… called me, said you were asking what it meant.”

“Yeah, uhm- ow.” Sirius poked his face again.

“Don’t do that.” Remus grumbled, reaching for his cane and walking over to help Sirius up.

“Sorry.” Sirius yawns, his lack of sleep catching up to him.

“Why are you up?” Remus asked, “You don’t do anything before nine if you don’t have too.”

Sirius smiles, Remus knows him so well, “Didn’t sleep either.”

“Why not?” Remus hummed, casually leaning on his cane in that suave way he does. James doesn’t think it’s suave, he tells Sirius it’s just normal, but Sirius knows better than James. He’s blinded by love, of course he knows better than James.

“Was reading.” Sirius swallowed, holding up the book and wiggling it in his hands, “Uh… I made some annotations back… where they fit.”

Yeah, basically just Remus’ name right beside his own, everywhere, and lots of little moons. He even underlined one very sexy line in the dirty scene that really made him think of Remus, and drew and arrow pointing to it, and wrote both of their names with a heart around them.

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, taking the book when Sirius handed it back.

They were both blushing.

“Go on, open it.” Sirius mumbled, nodding for encouragement.

So slowly, tentatively, Remus did. He opened the book, midway through, and found his name, and little moons, and a million hearts scribbled everywhere there was space.

Remus dropped the book.

Sirius leant down to pick it up, because he’s always willing to do things for Remus. He always will be. He buys books with all the money he’s meant to be saving, to put them on his own shelf, so that Remus might browse and find something he likes. He just wants to please Remus. To make him happy. To make his life a little simpler.

“Oh, careful, it’s on the brink of falling-“ As Sirius stood back up with it, Remus kissed him. Very quick and very short but very on the lips, “apart.” Sirius squeezed out, “Oh.”

“Oh.” Remus muttered.

“Well…” Sirius swallowed, walking past Remus to put the book down on the desk. Because Sirius is respectful of Remus’ things, always has been, and what he wants to do to Remus right now is probably not very respectful. He turns back, and he grabs him, with everything he has, “You’re mine now.”

“Oh…” Remus mumbled as Sirius kissed him, pulling him down onto the bed, careful to help take the weight off Remus’ hip. Because he’s always thinking of Remus like that.

He lays them down, the way that makes Remus most comfortable, and he presses tight against him, and he kisses Remus with all the strength, and love, and devotion he has.

Sirius never stops buying books, and Remus pretends he never figures out what Sirius is doing. And in their own little house, when they buy one a few years later, Sirius fills a whole room with bookshelves just for Remus, and fills them until they’re overflowing.

He never gets tired of watching Remus read. And he never gets tired of seeing his own name written down in the margins of whatever love story Remus just finished reading.

★ ★ ★

This came to me in a dream. I don’t even know why. It was a vision and I just had to write it so… enjoy?

Also, I just had the image of the Ben Barnes fancast edits using the Dorian Grey clips in my head whilst writing this so I had to reference it. I’m pretty sure canonically Dorian doesn’t even look remotely like Sirius, and honeslty, that just makes Remus’ pining even more pathetic lamo.

Also, none of these books (besides Dorian) referenced are real. I wrote this between 2-4 am so I really had no brain cells left that could use real references lol. This was just fun.

If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it here <3

Wonderful Wolfstar lovers who were interested: @lemongrass77777 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lapassemirroir

[janitorboy-writing]

My Jay, Nya, Pixal, Zane, Kai, and Lloyd Headcanons about their expertise in STEM

I was struck by inspiration and I just had to write it down. It doesn't help that I'm taking a programming class and have a bunch of STEM friends and family, so I was given plenty of ideas

Please excuse any spelling and grammar mistakes. I forgot to switch my keyboard from Portuguese to english

Jay

He is good with circuits and hardware

If he had the funds and motivstion, he would have been an electrical engineer, or at least become certified as an electrician

He practically already has the experience since he always tinkered with circuits and wires as a kid

His parents would always have him fixing the toaster, fridge, TV, basically any electrical appliance at home

He never had once touched a computer program until he came across his first computer at the junkyard

After tinkering with it and booting it up, he began to mess around and trid his best to understand the programs in it

He understood a little, but he wasn't a pro at it until Pixal came along (she taught him about different programming languages and the fundamentals, and he found out he's not into programming as much as he is with messing with circuits)

He does know mechanics and car stuff thanks to his dad, but he's more interested in wires and circuits

Nya

Mechanic

She definitely has a certification as a mechanic

Thanks to Kai, she had the time to study for a technical education

She also knows enough about electrical engineering to make all the cool cars and mechs

She didn't know very much about programming but she was very interested in it

She went to the library and read outdated books on programming (the local library near their village isn't the most well funded)

Hey, at last she grasped the fundamentals even though she learned an ancient language that most programmers don't use or learn anymore

When Pixal joined the team and started to teach her about programming, she was ecstatic

Now all her inventions could be more modern!

Pixal

She is just like her dad, so robotics and computer science are her thing

She does know a bit about everything since she has an entire database in her head to glean info from

Still, programming is her favorite thing and the thing she considers herself the best at

She leaves vehicle maintenance to Nya and any circuitry to Jay

When Jay, Nya, or Zane aren't around, she handles all the things they handle even if she doesn't enjoy it as much as programming. Someone has to be there to take care of all their tech

Whenever there's a bug she can't seem to fix, she explains her code to Zane to help herself think

Zane listens and i happy to be helping his gf <3

When Zane isn't there, she talks to Nya, her bestie, instead

When neither are there, she talks to Jay

Jay only listens since he's not very experienced with programming, but he does try to help from time to time

Zane

Zane doesn't consider himself to be an expert in any tech related field

Like yeah, he knows basically everything and can do it all, but he's not very interested in them

He will fix cars or fix a line of code, but only when it's necessary or if he's asked to

Unlike the others, he doesn't spend his free time inventing or tinkering with anything

He's mostly meditating or hanging out in nature

He likes plants, like, A LOT

Plants, cooking, and animals are his expertise

He also knows a lot about herbs and tea, so he's basically the team's medic

Pixal is his medical assistant just like he is her programming assistant <3

Zane and Cole go out on walks and hikes a lot, and they drag Kai along just for fun

Kai

He knows a bit about mechanic since he sometimes helped Nya with her homework and projects

Him and Nya know exactly what they're talking about when Jya asks him to bring her the thingamabob

Kai had to teach Jay what the hell a thingamabob and a doohickey is so Jay could actually help Nya

In return, Kai learned some of Jay's weird names for tools like the thing and thingamajig

If things are really dire (like none of the team's inventors and Zane are with them) then Kai will try to fix a vehicle

50% chance of failure, 49% chance of success

The 1%? Who knows

It explodes

Lloyd

Like Kai, he knows a bit about mechanics, if not more because he spent a lot of time with Nya when he was younger and when nobody knew he was the green ninja

He has more success fixing vehicles than Kai, so Kai is always the last resort

Lloyd also knows about plants and herbs since he read about them after Wu was gone

Someone had to take care of all the plants for Wu and Zane after the merge happened

Lloyd also knows a bit of programming and electrical engineering, though it's not very useful

He could tell you what a variable is but he cannot write a program to save his life

He can tell you what XOR does, but he can't build a circuit

Due to his interest in video games, he's been trying to learn programming, but due to everything that happened in his life, he hasn't learned much

He's still trying, and that's what matters