#i don’t think anyone’s called logan hot to my face

[hollywoodxwhore]

wanted - part 6

Colson x Original Female Character x Pete

Warnings: swearing, alcohol usage

Word Count: 3774

Find parts 1-5 in my masterlist!

Pete's not even really in this part. Just Colson and tension and angst!

Pete and I haven’t talked about it.

It’s been almost two weeks since we spent the night together, and since then, it’s like nothing happened. He’s still the same sweet, friendly Pete, but he hasn’t made a single move on me. I find myself regretting ever having done anything with him. I obviously did something wrong if he hasn’t tried since. 

Machine Gun Kelly has another show tonight, this one out of town, and Alicia, Logan, and I are tagging along. We’ll be staying in a hotel, and the plan is for me to sleep on an air mattress in Alicia, Rook, Logan, and Sophie’s room. It is what it is. The fifth wheel. Always the single one.

Pete isn’t going, and I find myself feeling relieved about it. I know we’ll all go out drinking after and I don’t need my drunk self making anything worse. 

After dropping our things at the hotel, we rush to the venue. Everyone is thrilled that the band has been asked to play at a larger venue, one that required them to travel. They’ve been asked to open for another local band. It’ll be more money, too. 

Since Alicia and Logan are dating band members and I’m a close friend, we’re all allowed backstage. It’s pretty cool because it’s an actual stage and not a basement this time. There are actual places to hang out and get ready. I’m just sitting and soaking up the atmosphere when I spot a very distressed Colson. I frown, watching him for a moment before deciding to go over and see what’s going on.

“Colson, you good?” I ask. He’s tearing his hands through his hair.

“No, the fuckin’ pants I brought have a rip right in the ass,” he grumbles.

I frown, reaching for them, and sure enough, a tear right along the seam. I wince. “Can I run back to the hotel to get you another pair?” I ask.

Colson shakes his head irritably. “No. All I brought other than these is a pair of sweatpants. Too tall to borrow anyone else’s,” he says. “Fuck, I’m screwed.”

“No, you’re not,” I say. I check the tag of the pants for his size. “Where are your keys?”

Colson pats his pockets and hands them over, studying me. “Where are you going?” he asks.

“Shopping,” I say.

Relief floods his face. “Alex, thank you,” he says, putting his palms together. “I…” He pauses. “I have no cash.”

I wave him off. “Not worried about it,” I insist, already walking away. He calls after me with another thank you but I’m already hurrying out to his car and checking my phone for shopping centers. 

This man is tall. I’ll need to find a place that makes clothes for tall guys who are also skinny. I drive to a nearby mall and within 20 minutes, I have three different options. I pay and rush back to the venue. 

They’ve just finished soundcheck and Colson spots me immediately. “Did you find some?” he asks.

“Yeah, come on, you can try them on,” I say, leading the way to the changing room. I expect him to take the bag and close the door but instead, he gestures for me to go in first. 

“You have to tell me if they look good,” he says, taking the bag from me. He pauses upon looking inside, glancing up at me. “You got three?”

I nod. “Wanted you to have options.”

Colson looks at me, something like softness taking over his features. He pulls out the first pair and drops his sweats to the floor. My cheeks feel slightly hot and I do my best to completely avoid looking at him as he shimmies into the tight jeans. He zips and buttons them, then turns to face the mirror.

“What do you think?” he asks. 

“They look great,” I say honestly. “They fit you perfectly. Try on the other two just in case.” He nods and does as he’s told, but the first pair is the best. “I’ll return the others before we go home tomorrow,” I offer.

“I can do it,” Colson insists, peeling off his shirt to change into his concert shirt. First, he puts on deodorant, and it’s really hard not to stare at him, but I keep my eyes averted. “I can’t thank you enough, Alex.”

“It’s no problem,” I assure him, crossing my legs and picking at my nail polish, anything to keep my eyes off of him. 

“Are you excited for the show?” he asks, much more chatty than usual.

“Yeah, I am,” I say. “You know I think you guys are amazing.”

“It means a lot that you came,” Colson says, and when I look up, he’s looking at me, sincerity in his eyes. “You’re a good friend.” Where is this coming from?

“Of course,” I say with a shrug. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Colson hesitates before looking away from me, turning toward the mirror as he buttons up his shirt. “Is something going on with you and Pete?” he asks.

I blink in surprise. “Wh-what?” I ask.

Colson shrugs. “It just seems like maybe there is,” he says casually, but almost like he’s forcing himself to sound so casual. I flash back momentarily to Sophie’s belief that Colson likes me. I still have a hard time believing her.

I think back to the night Pete and I hooked up, to how distant he’s been since. How he hasn’t brought it up or even really talked much to me. I sit up a little straighter and watch him mess with his hair. “No,” I say finally. “There’s nothing going on with us.”

Colson meets my eyes in the mirror, his gaze almost a challenge. “Do you want there to be?” he asks.

I stare back at him, stunned. I can’t believe he’s actually asking the question. My mouth opens but I don’t say anything. And luckily, I don’t have to because Slim and Baze burst in. They pause momentarily, looking between the two of us, then immediately continue their conversation, going to grab their clothes. I take the opportunity to leave the room, keeping my head down so Colson can’t meet my eyes.

Half an hour later, Logan, Alicia, and I are in the audience, waiting for the show to start. Logan and Alicia are chattering excitedly about the show and their partners, but I stay quiet. I’m still reeling over my conversation with Colson. Why was  he asking? Couldn’t he just ask Pete, his own roommate? I wonder if he has asked Pete and if so, what Pete might have said. Yeah, we hooked up and it was bad. I don’t know how to let her down easy. Or, we hooked up and I’m totally not into her. Her body is gross. 

Luckily, the show starts, interrupting my negative thoughts, and I pour myself into supporting my friends.

After the show ends and we pack everything up, we find a local bar and get a table. It’s already almost midnight, but this is a fairly busy city, so the bars are open late. Slim disappears to the bar to order a round of shots and he returns beside a waitress carrying a large tray. 

“Tequila for everyone!” Slim says. A few of us grimace and some cheer. We all take limes and sprinkle salt on our hands as the shots are doled out around the table. We all hold up our shot glasses. 

“To our biggest show yet,” Colson says, grinning widely. He’s at his best onstage and right after he gets off. Energetic, excited, and so smiley. He’s adorable, all pink cheeks and messy hair. “To the best group of friends I could ask for. EST for life.”

“EST for life!” We all repeat the words in unison, clinking our glasses together before downing our shots. Most of us grimace, sucking hard on our limes to soothe the sharp taste of cheap tequila. 

“I got next round!” Colson announces, hurrying off to the bar. 

“It’s gonna be a loooong night,” Slim says with a laugh. 

He’s not wrong.

Within an hour, we’re all drunk. Well past it, actually. We’re wasted. We’ve created our own dance floor and we’re dancing to a bunch of songs we all loved in high school, having taken over the jukebox. Luckily, there aren’t many other people here. I’m spinning slowly, arms in the air, dancing to music that used to play at my proms and formals, and I can’t help but reminisce on all the times I was so alone while all my friends had someone.

Nothing has changed.

Sophie and Logan are kissing. Rook and Alicia are dancing and talking, all smiles and whispers. Maybe some of the others are single, but I’m the only single girl here and it makes my stomach hurt. I stumble off the dance floor, feeling a little nauseous. Fuck, I’m way drunker than I thought.

I stumble down the hall to the bathroom and push the door open, tripping inside. I turn to lock the door, but before I can, it’s being pushed open. I don’t have time to think about anything as Colson pushes inside, concern etched into his features. He’s still wearing his concert outfit, the pants I picked out for him. 

“You okay?” he asks, locking the door behind him. I back up, colliding with the wall, and sink down, pulling my knees into my chest. Tomorrow, when I’m sober, I’ll be humiliated at the fact that my chin is wobbling and tears are filling my eyes. But right now, I’m too miserable to care. 

Colson’s eyes widen a little and he drops down in front of me, putting his hands on my knees. “Hey,” he says gently, trying to meet my eyes. “Alex. Look at me?” I finally lift my watery eyes to his. His eyes are so blue, and so full of sincerity and care. I’ve never seen him like this before, and if I weren’t so goddamn miserable, I’d be enjoying seeing a new side of Colson.

A little sob chokes out of me and I clap a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes as tears squeeze down my cheeks. “Shit,” Colson mutters, and then he’s next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to pull me in. I let him pull my head to his shoulder as I cry, too drunk to stop myself. “Are you sick?” he asks.

I consider this for a second, but no, I’m not nauseous. I feel sick to my stomach, yes, but that’s a direct result of my own panic and self-pity. I’m not at risk for vomiting, so I shake my head no. Colson nods and rests his cheek on my head, hand rubbing up and down my arm slowly. 

Blessedly, I get my tears under control and I pull my head away, sniffling as I wipe my cheeks. We’re quiet for a moment, but I can feel Colson looking at me. “Sorry,” I say finally, voice small.

Colson shakes his head. “No, don’t be,” he says gently. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” I mutter, hanging my head.

“Try me,” Colson says.

I look at him then, and he seems taken aback by my sudden attention, blue eyes blinking startledly. “Why are you being so nice?” I ask bluntly.

Colson frowns, rubbing the back of his neck. He considers this for a moment, throat bobbing. “Am I…usually not nice?” he asks. I give him a look and he falters. “Okay. I know I can  be a dick sometimes. A lot of the time,” he corrects himself, shaking his head. “But you’re my friend, and you’re upset. I saw you run off the dance floor and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You don’t have to tell me.” His face has hardened slightly, and his jaw clenches as he looks away. Immediately, I feel guilty.

“I just get sick of feeling so unwanted,” I say, like word vomit, before I can stop myself. I really don’t want to be vulnerable with Colson, but I also don’t want him to leave. He lifts his eyes to mine. “It seems like all of my girlfriends have someone who’s head over heels for them and then there’s me. I just…I just don’t know what’s so wrong with me.” My lip quivers again and I look away.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Colson says, shaking his head. 

“Yes there is!” I snap, and Colson looks surprised. I throw up my hands and make a frustrated sound. “There must me because no one fucking wants me! I hook up with-” I stop myself for a second, not really wanting to admit that Pete and I hooked up. “-with a friend who I thought could be more and then he pretends it never happened. Every guy I know goes for a different girl over me. There has to be something wrong with me.”

Colson is quiet for a long time. Such a long time that I think maybe he’s done talking. I wait for him to get up and leave. But, finally, when he speaks, his voice is quiet. “Are you talking about Pete?”

My head jerks over as I meet his eyes. He’s not really asking. He knows. “Did he tell you that?” I ask tightly, jaw clenching.

Colson hesitates, then nods. “Alex, I love Pete,” he says. “I really do. But he’s got some serious mental health issues. He’s not exactly reliable. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“It’s hard not to,” I shoot back, furiously wiping at the tears that have fallen. “He shouldn’t have done anything with me if he was going to fuck off like that.”

“You’re right,” Colson agrees. “I told him that. I told him that the way he’s acting is shitty.”

I blink at him. “You did?” I ask. Colson nods. “Oh.” My voice is croaky and I clear my throat, wishing that I was less drunk. “It’s fine,” I lie, shaking my head. “It’s not like I had feelings yet, really. It just makes me think I did something wrong.”

“Trust me,” Colson says. “You didn’t.”

I huff softly and shake my head. Colson can say whatever he wants, but he’s never seen me naked, never kissed me or touched me or felt me touch him. I’m sure I’m bad at it, otherwise, Pete would’ve stayed. He wouldn’t have cut me off like this. 

“I just want to go back to the hotel,” I mumble, rubbing my face. “I have to share a room with the fucking couples.”

Colson is quiet for a second. “Come stay in my room instead,” he says, and when I look at him, he looks surprised that he offered. He swallows. “It’s just Slim and Baze. I don’t know if you know this, but Justin is seeing someone. They’re staying in a different room.”

I chew my lip. “I don’t want to impose,” I say. “I can sleep on the floor. I brought an air mattress.”

Colson shakes his head. “That would be stupid. You can sleep in the bed. With me,” he adds, studying my face. “Or I can sleep on the floor.”

“No, it’s your bed,” I insist. I take a deep breath and then nod. “Alright. I would really appreciate it. Thanks.”

Colson smiles gently and gets to his feet, offering me his hand. “Let’s get out of here,” he says. I take his hand and as he pulls me up, he wraps me in a hug. I’m surprised, but after a moment, I relax against his chest, letting my arms surround his thin waist. I close my eyes, wishing Colson could always be like this – sweet, generous, kind. I wonder when this will fade. Probably tomorrow morning when he wakes up sober beside me. But I can’t worry about that right now.

Colson rounds everyone up and we catch Ubers back to the hotel. Upstairs, I grab my bags from my original room and meet Colson outside, where he holds the door to his room open. He catches my eye and smiles as I step inside the room. 

Two queen size beds greet me, just like in my previous room, and I’m suddenly nervous about sharing a bed with Colson. Queens are pretty small for a guy of his height. I feel guilty about making him share with me. I set my bags on the floor in front of a bed and fidget.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Colson says. “Baze and Slim should be back soon, but they know I offered for you to sleep here.”

“Okay,”  I say, staring at the bed as Colson disappears into the bathroom. 

I sit on the edge of the bed and sigh, pulling my phone from my purse. No messages. I tuck it away and then search in my bag for my pajamas, laying them out on the bed. I want to shower, too. 

Baze and Slim must’ve gotten caught up at the hotel bar or something because by the time the shower turns off, they’re still nowhere to be found. I look up when Colson exits the bathroom and am shocked to find that he’s wearing nothing but a towel, slung low around his hips. 

My mouth dries out. I’ll never get tired of seeing this man shirtless. 

I try not to watch as he bends over his bag, pulling out some clothes. His hair is wet and shaggy and he looks so cute and sexy at the same time. My heart squeezes and I grab my bathroom bag and pajamas. “I’m gonna go shower, too,” I say. “Are you done in the bathroom?”

“Go for it,” Colson says without looking at me. 

I lock myself in the bathroom, shower, and brush my teeth. I feel better as soon as I’m dressed in a giant t-shirt and soft shorts. There are few things a good shower can’t fix. 

I leave the bathroom to find Colson sitting up in bed, one arm behind his head as he leans on the headboard, remote in his free hand. He’s still shirtless. He glances at me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, tucking my bathroom bag away again. I hesitate, then climb into bed beside him, sitting against the headboard, matching his posture. “Where are Slim and Baze?”

“No idea,” Colson says. “Probably out partying. They weren’t ready to come back.”

Guilt stabs at my gut. “Were you ready to come back?” I suddenly feel like I forced Colson to end his night of fun. 

“Definitely,” Colson sighs. “I’m exhausted. Those guys could go all night.”

I nod, relieved, and snuggle down into the blankets, suddenly exhausted myself. I stifle a yawn. “Thanks again for letting me stay here,” I say. 

“Of course.” Colson smiles at me. “You good?” he asks.

I nod. “Better. Thanks.”

Colson nods. He turns off the TV, then snuggles under the covers and turns off his lamp, pitching the room into darkness. We’re both quiet, the only sound being the air conditioner. 

“Hey, Alex?” Colson asks after a few moments.

“Hm?”

He’s quiet for a long moment. “Do you…do you think the band is actually good?”

I frown and shift under the covers. “Of course I do,” I say. “Why?”

“I just feel like I’ve been trying so hard,” he mutters. “I want more people to hear our music. I want someone to sign us. But either we get rejected or get no response. I just…I guess I was just wondering if you think it’s possible.”

I sigh softly. Without thinking, I reach for him, and my hand brushes his shoulder. Suddenly, his fingers are intertwining with mine, our hands resting on the bed between our heads. 

“I’m sorry it’s been so difficult, Colson,” I say. “I can imagine it’s really hard to find a place in the industry.”

“Nearly impossible unless you know someone,” he says.

“You can’t give up,” I say. “Your music is amazing and more people should hear it.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course,” I say. “Why does my opinion even matter?”

“Because,” Colson says, “I think you’re smart and you have good taste. And I knew you would be honest with me.”

I hesitate. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve listened to the album almost nonstop since I met you all,” I confess. “The lyrics, it’s all really…deep.” It almost feels like Colson is holding his breath. “Do you write all the lyrics?”

“Yes,” he says. “Slim helps sometimes, but it’s mostly me.”

“I can really relate to them,” I tell him. All the lyrics about feeling alienated, feeling like you don’t belong. I’ve found so much comfort in their music, knowing I’m not the only one who feels that way. 

“I’ve never really felt like I fit anywhere,” Colson admits. 

“Me neither,” I say quietly. “I don’t think a lot of people like me.” It’s weird, confessing all this in the dark of this hotel room.

Colson is quiet, but then, he lets go of my hand in favor of wrapping his arm around me. I let him pull me into his chest, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat at his affection. It sucks that I only get it in the darkness and privacy of a hotel room, but I’ll take what I can get with Colson. I close my eyes and subtly breathe in his scent, enjoying the feeling of his warm chest beneath my cheek. 

“Our group loves you,” he says quietly, lips close to my forehead. “The first time you came over, no one could stop talking about how funny and fun you were, and how we all needed to invite you over again.”

“That’s nice,” I say, flushing. 

“Fuck whoever has made you feel unwanted,” he says. “You’re wanted here. Okay?”

I nod, snuggling a little closer so our legs intertwine. “Thank you,” I say quietly. My eyes fly open when Colson’s warm lips press against my forehead. He leaves several kisses there, and then his hand is gently tipping my face up. His lips trek down my cheek, slow and gentle and sweet. I hold my breath, unsure if this is really even happening. 

“Alex,” he whispers, breath against my lips. I barely breathe, waiting for his lips to touch mine. I feel him lean closer, and then the hotel door beeps, signaling that it’s being unlocked. The magic is broken and Colson pulls away quickly, almost pushing me out of his arms. Stung, I roll onto my side and pretend to be asleep. 

And just like that, nothing has changed at all.

#pete davidson #colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #pete davidson fanfic #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson x pete #machine gun kelly x pete davidson

[ai-luni]

IM SORRY IM BACK BECAUSE I JUST HAD ANOTHER FEW SCENARIOS I WANTED TO SHARE WITH YOU!

If I’m annoying you please let me know. I don’t want to be a bother!! It’s just nice being able to spill all these thoughts to someone <3

How do you think Hesh would feel if you intentionally flirted with Logan to make Hesh Jealous? I feel like he would be so bothered by it and lose his composure, seeing you flirt with anyone would infuriate him but especially his brother.

Or imagine if before Hesh and you had become a thing thing, the boys were all in the bunks getting ready for lights out when Logan loudly shares how hot he thinks you are after having a few too many drinks. Keegan would sneer and look at Hesh, then send a knowing glance to Merrick as they observed the scene. Logan wouldn’t take the social cues (thank the pints of beer he drank) and kept drooling over you. “God, she’s just so- i don’t know! Hot! Have you seen her hips man?! When we fell out of the plane and into the forest, I swear she was just flaunting them in front of me! And that round ass and perky rack too—“

Hesh would be pissed. You weren’t his officially but he would swell with jealously. But Logan wouldn’t stop there. “C’mon, Keegan. You gotta be the one here who gets what I mean man. There’s no way you haven’t noticed how fucking sexy that girl is.” Merrick would scoff at him as Keegan was stiff to the bone with discomfort. Hesh’s gaze would snap to Keegan to make sure that quiet man wouldn’t say a word. Keegan mockingly threw his hands up and shook his head, rolling his eyes.

Elias would then walk into the room, shaking his head at his drunken and jealous sons. “You’re making your brother jealous, Logan. Hush up and go to bed.” Elias chuckled. Hesh’s jaw dropped open as he sputtered over his words. He couldn’t believe his father said that! Merrick, Keegan, and Logan burst out laughing (Logan more like howling louder than all the others) and Hesh just stood there flustered. As if on cue you skip through the door to the men’s quarters, peeking your head in. “Excuse me, sir. I just wanted to confirm I’m on patrol at 0600?” Her eyes shifted over the flustered men, confused as to what the dorky smiles were for. Hesh looked like he wanted to explode. “Are you okay, Hesh? Your face is red?” Then all the guys lose it, bursting out laughing. Logan spits the water he was sipping out all over the floor. Hesh was mortified.

Elias would shake his head and pat Heah on the back before following you out into the hallway. Boys will be boys.

No because literally love it! I don't have anyone I know to talk about this to so this is literally perfect. It makes me so happy that I could sorta slowly wiggling into this community whatever it is.

BUT THIS, I have thoughts.

Most of those thoughts are just sodfidsvjfsvfnjsvbf Hesh my boy but really I personally don't think Logan would be the one to make hesh embarrassed (and I'm so excited for this because it's about time this guy gets some attention), I 100% believe Kick would though.

That's right, it's Kick's debut. And I think it would make Hesh that much more jealous when it's Kick in your ear relaying information, Kick telling you where to go on mission and not him.

I really think Kick is the sassy one. He's rarely on the field or waiting for the team to make evac so he can get them out of there (he'd call it 'saving their asses') so he would run his mouth so much more. And he'd be overall more book smart than Hesh which would also tip him off.

Not saying Logan wouldn't laugh his ass off at it but I really do think he's too much of a sweetheart to throw him under the bus like that. But Kick. That little fucker. I'm Australian so literally all I can think to describe him is larrikin.

Also I know there's genuinely next to nothing about Kick so all of this is literally just me reading him for like 4 voice lines but it's my headcanon so whatever. Like that "pedal to the medal already" come on. COME ON.

Anyway.

#luniinbox

[achliegh]

The Major League

Masterlist

TW: Drinking, mentions of sex, smut, making out in a car, minor mental breakdown

Baseball Boys meeting and falling in Love

What could go wrong… ;)

Beta: @punkkkkboi

Most Characters belong to: @lumosinlovelove

Chapter 9

HoneyDukes Club, Hogwarts 2020

 Logan watches as Leo and Kuny talk animatedly on a couch in Russian together. He still has a hard time believing this blonde guy knows so many languages. Kuny has been correcting him a lot but it was so cute watching him learn. Tonight they were at their favorite club, it was a special night as well. This club puts on a night every month that is called ‘forgein night’ basically this place becomes a safe space for immigrants, they are allowed to bring plus ones but other than that it's pretty much just immigrants. He was Leo’s plus one, standing next to Kuny’s plus one. 

He and Nado were leaning against the bar facing their boys as they sipped on their drinks, Naod had a vodka cranberry and Logan had a vodka sprite, two peas in a pod. 

“So when did you and Leo get together?” Nado looks over at Logan for a minute with a small smile after watching Kuny laugh and pat Leo on the shoulder making him slosh his drink. 

“About a week ago, we haven’t really told anyone but it’s pretty obvious.” Logan is swirling his glass as he smiles at Leo who was basically glowing under Kuny’s praise and the lights. 

“Have you had sex?” 

“Not yet, I don’t think I’m ready yet.” Logan feels a bit nervous under Nado’s gaze.

“Nothing wrong with that, Kuny and I haven’t done anything sexual either.”

“You’re dating Kuny?” Logan raises an eyebrow at him. “I thought you were just friends”

“Well, we don’t have a label but we have been viciously making out over the past week so…” Nado shrugs and smiles at him. 

“The first time I ever even spoke to Leo I made out with him, it was rather angry too. After he got me out on a fucking grandslam, he stayed after to watch me run bases.”

“Hot.” Logan and Nado both snicker, taking gulps of their drinks. 

“So you haven’t done anything even slightly sexual?” Nado puts his glass on the bar and crosses his arms after tightening his bun. 

“I guess if you count me sitting in his lap when he has a boner and we have to talk about boring stuff to get it to go away. Which, on that note, in this past week he has started this weird thing.” Nado raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “He has made it so whenever we are just sitting talking somewhere, especially on a couch, he just like puts his hand on my cheek and the next thing I know I’m in his lap and we are slapping tongues.” Nado starts laughing and puts his head back before looking at Logan again. 

“He's trained you like a dog dude.” Logan stares at him for a moment then takes a slow drink of his cocktail before nodding.

“Holy shit, he has.” Nado laughs harder and pats Logan’s shoulder. 

“I find it endearing, you two must really have something strong to be able to do that.” 

“I hope so,” Logan looks back at Leo and feels a smile on his face as soon as the other man sees his eyes waving at him before being drawn back into his conversation. “He’s special for sure.”

“How big do you think his dick is?”

“Well, if his stiffy is anything to go off of the above average for sure. What about Kuny?”

“I’m hoping he’s huge.” Nado bites his lip a little while looking over to his roommate, he looks delicious in this lighting. 

“I just want Leo to know what he’s doing, I don’t want to get hurt.” 

“Why don’t you top him first? So then he kinda understands what it feels like and how to do it?”

“I have come to the conclusion that I am a bottom who has no interest in topping. I don’t know why and I don’t know if that’s selfish but… I wanna be fucked!” 

“I’m a bottom leaning switch so I get it, plus being fucked is great, less work and if you ask me it feels way better.” They watch as Cecil, Cam and Clay all go over to join Leo and Kuny. Finn walks over to Nado and Logan. Copying how they stand, he was drinking an IPA.

“What’s up?” He smiles at them, leaning over to look at Logan over the tattooed man between them. Smiling at each other, he stands back up and sighs.

“Just talking about fucking.” Nado states. Finn chokes a bit on his drink before clearing his throat and chuckling nervously. 

“What about it?”

“What is your favorite thing about Clay in bed?” He looks at the red-head and notices how pink in the face he's gotten. 

“Um, I don’t know.” 

“You've been together over a year and you don't know?” Nado raises an eyebrow at him not believing him. Something was off. 

“He's a great kisser? What about you? What's your favorite thing to do with a girl in bed?” Nado and Logan but laugh a bit unamused. 

“Neither of us have really done anything sexual with our partners.” Nado gestures towards the group of their people in front of them as they all start taking a lot of shots in time with the music. 

“Partners? You guys are dating people?!” He leans forward to look at Logan whose eyes are set on someone in front of them, he follows them… to Leo. Finn feels something burn in his stomach like he just ate fire. He leans back again, still looking at Leo he narrows his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m not dating Kuny but we are on that path. Logan and Leo just started last week, right Logan?” Nado felt as though he stepped into something he wasn’t supposed to and he wasn’t even the one to walk over! Finn and Logan were friends, he knew that much but the shift in the air made him feel like there had to be something else going on. Especially with the way Finn was glaring daggers at Leo now. 

“Yeah, I asked him out and he just about fell off the bed.” Logan laughs remembering Leo’s face in complete shock as he pulls Logan into an even tighter embrace. 

“Well… congrats.” Finn was bitter and he knew exactly why but it made him feel so many emotions at once that he couldn’t explain how he felt even if he wanted to. Looking in his glass as he swishes it back and forth he just goes quiet as Logan and Nado keep talking. 

Kuny was impressed, these Swedish people really knew how to drink. As the music kept a steady rhythm they all would take shots, some tequila some water, no one knew which shots were which. Leo and him had been talking about how Leo is studying Russian and would love to meet up sometime to have Kuny tutor him. Honestly, it sounded like fun. 

Leo introduced him to his brother and friends. He really thought Cam and Leo were the brothers at first but then it was all explained and still made no sense to him. But he didn’t mind, he was just hoping not to get alcohol poisoning and stay sober enough to make out with Nado in the back of his SUV. Speaking of Nado. 

He was beautiful, his hair was actually up in a nice way tonight, his skin tight black v-neck and ripped jeans. Ugh, he was basically salivating looking at him. You know what, he thinks it's time to go, to the car, with Nado, yum. He bids his goodbyes to his new found friends and walks up to Nado who is talking with Logan and Finn, one looking more annoyed than the other. 

“Ready to go?” He reaches past Nado to put his glass on the bar and pulls his hand back far enough to grab Nado’s as well, placing it next to his own on the bartop. Not breaking eye contact. 

“Go where?” Nado smirks at him

“How about the back of my car?” 

“I’m yours.” Nado takes his hand and basically drags him out to the gigantic black vehicle. Kuny barely has unlocked it before he is pulled into the backseat. Kuny is sat in the middle with Nado straddling him. They laugh for a second before Nado pulls him in for a riveting kiss.

Logan was laughing at how those two ‘subtly’ left and took a breath to chill out. He finishes his drink and stretches from side to side before leaning back on the bar with his elbows resting beside him. 

“Hello there.” He knows that voice, smiling he tips his head towards it.

“Hello yourself.” Leo sets his and many other glasses down before standing between Logan and Finn. He wraps his arm around Logan’s shoulder and kisses his temple. 

“You’re pretty.”

“How many shots did you take?” 

“12, I think some were water though.” Leo's accent was coming out thick enough that it was hard for Logan to understand. “We need to take Cecil and Cam home, knowing they will be trouble if we don’t. They also have a morning flight and will probably be drunk on the plane home tomorrow, not the first time they have done that either.” Leo is basically laying on Logan now, Logan is barely holding him up holding him around the chest. 

“Come on big guy, let's get you home.” Logan stumbles when he pushes off the bar, fully supporting Leo who is laughing in his ear. “You’re gonna have to help me out here.” Logan sighs in relief as Leo stands up. 

“Cam! Cecil! Kom igen!” The other two wander over to walk behind the couple, Cam and Cecil singing in Swedish to each other as they stumble over the infamous Honda Civic. Getting in the backseat they pay no attention to Leo and Logan sharing a quick kiss before Logan turns on the car and starts driving them back to Leo and Remus’ place. 

Clay walks over to Finn, plastering himself to the taller man's side and resting his head on Finn’s chest with his hand tracing circles. 

“You seem tense.” Finn wraps an arm around Clay’s shoulder and holds him a bit tight.

“Let’s go back to my place, sound good?” Clay looks up at him and smirks. 

“I have a surprise for you, a gift from Cam.” He whispers in Finn’s ear. “His parents own a successful adult toy company.” Finn meets Clay's eyes, just looking at them for a moment before they both share the same sly grin. 

As soon as they get in the door Clay is pressed against the wall chest first. Both lost their clothes at the entrance and were trying to make it to Finn’s room but they stopped short deciding the wall next to his bedroom door was a great idea. Finn was on his knees behind Clay, admiring the plug inside his boyfriend.

“You’re incredible.” He mumbles as he mumbles on the skin of Clay’s upper thigh. He slowly pulls the small silver bullet from his lover and groans as he watches it. Clay was out of breath but feeling amazing, he heard Finn stand up behind him. “Stay here for a moment.” Clay does as he’s told, watching Finn shuffle into his room before coming out with the bottle of lube they are both so familiar with. 

Finn wastes no time lubing himself up, gripping himself steady as he pushes in. Holding both of Clay’s hands over his head with his free hand. They both groan, Clays a bit shorter than his own, but he thrived on that sound. 

“You like being fucked like this? Against a wall after you’ve had a secret plug in for hours?” Finn pants in Clay’s ear, the answer he got was a nod because that seemed all Clay could muster up in a language they both understood right now. Finn kisses the side of his neck as he moves his hand that was holding himself to grip across Clay’s hips using his forearm as a brace so Clay didn’t just slam his dick into the wall. Thrusting into Clay he feels him lift his leg a little so Finn takes his arm around his hips and puts his arm under the shorterman’s raised knee. He takes that same arm and puts it back around Clay’s hips keeping his leg up as well. 

What a handful.

Finn sets a rhythm, it's forceful and deep just the way Clay likes it. He listens to the melody of his and Clay’s sounds bouncing off the walls, his hand that was holding Clay’s above his head moves to mess with one of the other man’s nipples making him jolt his back arching to take in more of Finn unintentionally. Clay's hands are pressed flat on the wall beside his head flexing his fingers against the hard surface. 

Clay was dizzy, he was feeling euphoric but all the alcohol had finally hit him making his  head feel heavy. He felt so fucking good, Finn hit perfectly on his prostate and he could swear he hear himself scream. He wanted to lean back and kiss him, he was desperate for a kiss but the way he was being held and that fact that they almost never kiss during sex made it impossible for him to do so. 

He reaches back with one hand and grabs onto a fistful of that ginger hair and yanks it forward so Finn’s face is shoved into the crook of his neck, he was getting close and Finn was two, he could feel it with those sloppy thrusts that were just so perfect. He feels Finn bite down and that sends him over the edge. Feeling his abs squeeze and his joints tense Clay cums all over Finn’s arm.

Finn pulls out and finishes on the backs of Clay’s thighs, slowly moving his arm to place Clay’s foot on the ground. Helping him turn around Clay basically collapses in his arms. Finn helps him to the bed but before they lay down he cleans them both up. First the back of Clay’s legs then having him sit on the edge of the bed while Finn wipes his arm and hands down then moving to clean the front of Clay off. 

They climb into bed after some well deserved gatorade and snuggle. Clay is resting his head on Finn’s chest as he traces over the freckles there, connecting them like constellations. He gets that funny feeling like he did a couple weeks ago the last time they had full on sex. Finn’s breathing is starting to even out as his thumb gently rubs on his upper arm. Then something comes over him, just a wave of emotion. He starts speaking when he thinks he is just saying everything in his head. 

“Du ser mig inte i ögonen för att de inte är rätt färg." He sniffles, he doesn’t know why he is getting teary but he has a feeling it's because he’s drunk. He stops tracing the pale skin and just rests his hand on Finn’s diaphragm, feeling his warmth. 

Finn wasn’t asleep, he was nearly there but then heard Clay’s rough voice and woke up a bit, keeping his eyes closed. He didn’t know what the other man was saying but he sounded sad, he never wants Clay to be sad he's too sweet for that. Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember a time when Clay was ever sad around him, he would always hide himself away and lock the door so no one could get to him. Not even Leo. 

"Rör inte mitt hår för att det är fel struktur." Clay sniffles, he hates this. He hates this feeling, its stupid. It makes him feel like a child begging for a fourth cookie when he was only allowed two to begin with. 

Finn didn’t know what was said but he tightens his arm around the smaller man. He wishes he understood…

"Du lyssnar aldrig på mig för min röst är fel ton." He feels a tear run between his cheek and Finn’s chest. Why was this happening, why now. 

Finn opens his eyes and looks down at his boyfriend, not only sees but feels that dark hands glide from his chest to the side of his ribs. Like Clay was trying to pull him closer. 

“Du älskar mig inte för att jag inte är han." Clay feels another arm wrap around him, pulling him up higher. Finn sits up taking Clay with him and pulls the curly haired man into his lap. Cradling his head to his chest with one arm and the other rubbing soothingly up and down his side.

They stay like that, Finn holding him gently like if he was a porcelain doll that might break. 

Clay felt like he would.

#leo knut #finn o'hara #sweater weather #logan tremblay #o’knutzy #lumosinlove #the major league #coast to coast #clayton bruss #remus lupin #sirius black #regulus black #thomas walker #noelle tremblay #jackson nadeau #evgenia kanaeva

[britswriting]

Desire (7)

Desire Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

Sequel to Unbroken

T/W: Body negativity (Talking down to oneself about postpartum recovery)

*Leighton's POV*

The first week without Colby had been tortures.

I was so used to the texts, and calls.. It was like I was back on Sam's birthday and it sucked.

On Colby's birthday, the day after he said he wanted to give us space, I texted him Happy Birthday, and sent him a photo of Gemma so he had one of her on his birthday, but I didn't hear back for hours.

I laid around my house feeling sorry for myself, watching the sky go from bright and sunny to dark and cloudy, not hearing back from him until way after I had gotten Gemma down to sleep.

I laid on the couch watering Master Chef when he replied back with a "Thank You" which felt like a knife in my back.

Was he really done with me?

Had I really fucked him up this bad?

Aaliyah had texted me a few times, asking how things were going, to which I asked the same.

They had finally found a house in Tennessee, and were putting an offer in and before I knew it, she was officially leaving me February 14th.

Happy fucking Valentines Day to me.

Logan was leaving towards the start of February, so we planned to do a dinner at my parents house relatively soon.

Today was January 17th, and I was currently home alone since Gabe took Gemma to his parents house, and I spent my morning sleeping, only to be awakened by a puddle of milk soaking my sleep shirt.

That was a first.

I could feel the weight and wetness when I woke up, peeling the soggy shirt off of my chest.

I pumped before my chest exploded and then took a shower, now adding laundry to my to do list.

I spent most of the day cleaning.

Around dinner time, I was sitting on our old couch, searching job listings, but due to my criminal record, I couldn't find anything.

It would be so easy to go work for a grocery store or even a retail shop, but because of my damn criminal record I was getting nowhere.

I angrily shut my laptop, tossing it to the side and took a deep breath.

I kept checking my phone, waiting for any sort of message from anyone, but only adding to my boredom, there was nothing.

It felt like everyone kept going, and I was just stuck here, trapped between these four walls as I cooked and cleaned and washed baby bottles.

I was twenty one, and my life was already a housewife changing diapers.

I mindlessly stirred my mac and cheese, staring out the kitchen window, watching the world go by.

I took the pot of mac and cheese, a hot pad under it, and sat on the couch, continuing to watch Master Chef as I pumped, not wanting a repeat of this morning.

I grabbed my phone, scrolling through the different apps, not finding any of the games to be interesting.

I saw my baby apps, one of them being my pregnancy bump app and deleted it, cleaning out my phone when I was interrupted by it ringing.

Alex's name flashed across it, and I quickly answered, desperate for any sort of attention.

"Hello?" I answered a little too quickly, setting my pot of mac and cheese on my coffee table.

"Hi! Are you busy?" She asked and I shook my head before realizing how much of an idiot I was.

"No, I'm bored out of my mind, why?"

"Good! Do you want to join my friends and I out tonight? Oh wait.. you have the baby, don't you?"

"No, baby daddy has her. Where are you going?"

"There is this new club in downtown LA and my friend knows the owner's son" She explained, now on speaker as I fixed my pump.

"I thought I was your only friend" I teased, biting my lower lip, trying to stop the smile that wanted to spread across my face.

"Ha ha" She grumbled and I giggled, reaching for the TV remote. "Are you in or?" She asked and I sighed, contemplating my choices.

"I haven't exactly been to a club.. I don't even think I have anything club worthy" I admitted, feeling bashful at the confession.

"You're twenty one and you've never been to a club?" She asked, sounding genuinely shocked which only added to my guilt complex.

I mentally sighed, reminding myself that I've never been a normal young adult, and it was fine that she was surprised by this revelation.

Yeah because I'm a recovering drug addict,

"No, I haven't. They're fun, no?" I asked and I could practically hear the excitement in her voice as she told me all about the music and the drinking and the dancing.

"I'm not the best dancer"

"Come on mama! Those hips don't lie!"

I cringed, glancing down at my pudgy tummy.

"I um.. What do you wear to the club? I still look like four months pregnant" I frowned, still disappointed in my body.

After all, I'm barely in my young adulthood, and my body was already ruined.

No guy would want me now.

"A dress, something lacy, a two piece, a crop top. Anything sexy or slutty or fun" She expressed and my forehead wrinkled as I looked down at my body.

"That's not happening" I told her bluntly and she giggled which made me roll my eyes.

"Come on, you looked hot on New Years!"

"You were drunk. I literally still look pregnant"

"Some guys dig that"

"Not helping" I grumbled.

"Text me your clothing sizes and I'll pick you out something. After all, we aren't leaving till like 10 anyway" She said and I sighed, not wanting to give her my sizes.

After some convincing, I sent her my hip and waist size, and even my bra size, reminding her I'm still nursing so it couldn't have lace fronting.

Lately due to Gemma sucking too hard at my nipples, I've had to use nipple cream and pads to soothe them.

My milk has also been a little heavy lately, hence the leaking this morning, so I also have thicker nipple pads for my nursing bras to help prevent it happening in public.

I get it's normal, but it doesn't make it any less embarrassing.

Alex told me that she was going to go out shopping and that she'd FaceTime me some options lately to get the feel for my style, which meant I was left alone once again.

I ended up eating the whole box of mac and cheese by myself whilst listening to people argue about why their food was underdone, or why their ground beef was on fire.

Around 8:30, I had just gotten off the phone with Gabe after seeing how Gemma was doing, letting him know my plans for the night, when our buzzer rang.

I let Alex up, glancing down at my ugly panda pajamas and pink fuzzy bathrobe.

To make matters worse, my hair was tossed up on top of my head, and my acne was out of control.

Definitely not getting laid tonight, let alone anyone buying me some kiddy cocktails.

"Don't look at the mess, let's just fix it" I muttered, opening the door.

"You look hot, that's annoying" She laughed and I rolled my eyes, knowing I looked anything but.

"You look hot. I look like a mom who hasn't slept in four years" I looked down at my toes, seeing they needed to be clipped.

"It seems like you haven't showered in four years either" She joked and I glared.

"I showered this morning!" I exclaimed, feeling the need to defend myself.

I may look bad, but I didn't look that bad.

"Well, what's that then? Baby puke?" She asked, pointing to my shirt.

I glanced down and frowned, "It's mac and cheese. I dropped it on myself when I was- never mind. What did you buy me? Something that will make me feel fat and ugly?" I asked and she rolled her eyes, handing me the bag.

"I know you said no lace, but it's thick padding. Just try, and if it sucks, I have other options. Whatever you don't like we can return" She said and I nodded, both of us walking to my master bedroom.

"Don't um.. mind the bottles. I haven't washed them yet" I mumbled, seeing the empty milk bottles by my nightstand.

"Didn't notice. Now come on, go try them on and then we can  figure out the hair and makeup"

I dumped the bag contents onto my bed, seeing a few different things.

"I am not wearing skin tight pleather jeans" I said immediately, already knowing that they will not be comfy with my thick thighs.

"Okay, well there's other options" She reminded me and I nodded, stifling through them.

"This is the bra?" I asked and she nodded. "It's cute, I'll give you that. I don't know if my boobs will fit though. I'm quite large in the chest area lately. I mean, I naturally have big boobs, but with breastfeeding and-" I rambled and she laughed, telling me she got it. "Sorry" I mumbled. "I haven't had human interaction in a while, didn't mean to ramble" I apologized, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed.

"Try it on" She encouraged and I frowned, not sure if I wanted to attempt to put it on and then come back out and admit the defeat of it not fitting. "Also.. try on this skirt with it. I thought the  pants could go with it, but I think this skirt is cuter" She tossed me a gray skirt and I nodded, walking over to the bathroom.

I decided not to turn towards the mirror, not wanting to see how fugly I looked right now.

I stripped from my clothes, my top loosening my messy bun, causing it to flop against my face.

I huffed, tugging the hair tie out.

I was left in granny panties, frowning at them.

Nothing makes you feel sexy like oversized underwear.

I had some thongs in my drawer, but I was too nervous to try them on and see how much I disliked them compared to my pre-pregnancy body.

My nipples were still quite dark, and looked quite raw from how often Gemma has been nursing lately.

I remember loving the way my boobs looked. Liking the size, and the way my nipples look. I even thought about getting nipple piercings at one point, but I'm glad I didn't.

I slipped on the gray skirt, seeing the elastic band going over my stomach. It seemed to hold everything into place, but I was too afraid to do the jump test.

I sat it up pretty high just to make sure everything was held into place, reaching over for the bra. I noticed how thick the padding was, and I smiled softly at the fact that she listened.

I squeezed my boobs a little, making sure nothing was going to come out as I tried this bra on just in case we had to return it, not knowing if I needed to grab a nipple pad or not.

Thankfully, nothing came out since I had just pumped, and I slipped it over my head, the back of it acting like a bralette, just it had more support under the boobs than my older bralettes.

I finally turned around in the mirror, thankful that it wasn't suffocating my chest.

With how big my boobs have been due to nursing, I struggled to find tops, even to just sleep in, that didn't feel like they were skin tight against my chest.

The worst part is if it was skin tight, and the material would rub against your sensitive nipples.

I don't think I've ever ripped a shirt off my body faster than the night I first experienced that horrid sensation.

I turned a bit in the mirror, bouncing a little to see if anything jiggled in an unattractive way. I noticed certain things move, but all I could hear in my head was Colby telling me how much he loved it.

I thankfully didn't look too bad, thanking God that this skirt really kept everything in place.

I tried not to let my eyes scan, and reminded myself that she said clubs were usually dark, much like New Years Eve.  

One thing I couldn't ignore though, were the white heads on my face.

I don't know how long I sat there picking and prodding at my face, but eventually a knock on the door caught my attention, my cheeks bright red now from being messed with.

"Sorry, I was picking at my pimples" I chuckled, opening the door, feeling the heat on my ears at the fact that I had been in the bathroom for so long.

"Holy shit, you look so good! It's definitely the one!" She complimented, scanning me. "Hm.. do you have any black shoes? Like black strappy heels?" She asked and I nodded, walking over to my closet.

We ended up finding some black heels to go with it, placing them next to the bathroom doorway, silently praying I didn't forget about them and trip on my way out.

"You said you showered earlier, right?" She asked and I nodded, "Good, then we can do your hair!" She smiled and I laughed, Alex reminding me a lot of Aaliyah the night I got ready for my date with Silas.

I wonder how he's doing. He was a really nice guy..

"Let's do lipstick last. I have to keep eating and drinking since I'm breastfeeding. Aaliyah always yelled at me for wearing away lipstick quickly" I snickered, a pain of hurt hitting my chest as I remembered she was moving away. "Wait, let me grab my water bottle before you do my hair" I quickly walked to the kitchen, filling up my gigantic water bottle.

I was definitely going to have to pee when we got there.

"I swear this thing weighs as much as my literal child" I laughed, placing the heavy bottle on my bathroom counter.

"Do you want your hair up, down... half and half?" She asked, playing with it a little bit.

"Um.. down. It hides stuff"

"What's there to hide?"

"Uh.. everything"  I let out an uncomfortable laugh, Alex shaking her head in disagreement.

"You look pretty, shut up"

"Well what do you want to do to my hair?"

"This" She murmured, moving my hair to the side and placing a soft kiss next to my ear.

"Alex" I whispered, my eyes closing as she kissed closer to my mouth.

"Tell me to stop" She whispered and I sighed, knowing I should but I really didn't want to.

"Alex, we really shouldn't"

"Yeah, but it's fun" She looked at me in the mirror.

"Yeah.. it is" I sighed, giving into her. Her hand pulled my jaw towards her, kissing me softly. "You're not drunk right now, right?" I questioned, wanting to make sure we weren't going to have a repeat of New Years Eve.

I'm all down for kissing her, but I was in no mood to go any further with her tonight.

She shook her head, kissing me again, "Mm, nope, fully sober" She murmured and I nodded, letting the kiss deepen.

~

"Yep, definitely going to regret that" I laughed, wiping some of the lipstick off the side of her mouth. "You're definitely going to need to reapply" I giggled, biting my bottom lip.

"Mm, it was worth it though, now we better hurry before we end up in bed together and not downing drinks at the club" She laughed, slapping my ass before grabbing the curling iron. "You're not into a pain kink right?" She asked and my eyes widened.

"What?!"

"I'm kidding!" She quickly said and I eyed her, not believing her.

"I don't believe you, and to answer your question. No. I do not. If you burn me with that curling iron, it's going to be shoved where the sun doesn't shine" I threatened and my jaw dropped. "Alex!" I gasped and she giggled, plugging in the curling iron.

~

"Damn, you look hot" Alex whistled and I rolled my eyes, fixing my hair.

"Not to give a double standard, but I much rather you whistle at me then some dick on the street" I chuckled, eyeing my appearance in the mirror.

"I like the way the outfit hugs your curves. You look good"

"Am I going to ruin this moment for you if I tell you I need to pump before we leave?" I asked and she laughed, shaking her head.

"Of course not! Go be a mom! Where do you pump? Do you want me to wait in the living room or?" She asked and I shrugged.

"I can pump wherever. I just need to grab the parts from the kitchen. I don't know if this would make you uncomfortable.. but I could pump whilst we do my makeup?" I suggested and Alex nodded, grabbing a black and blue bag. "I have a bra that works for pumping so I'm not just whipping out a boob at you" I chuckled, my boobs a little sore now.

"Whatever you want to do, I'm going to clean the brushes real quick" She grabbed a handful of brushes and a sponge, stepping aside so I could exit the bathroom.

When I got back, I sat down and started putting the parts together, having done this so many times I could do it in my sleep now.

"Um.. do you want me to put on a bra? Or cover?" I asked and she didn't pay attention to me, mumbling "Whatever you want" so I just unclipped my bra, connecting the pump, making sure the bottles were tight.

"How do you normally do your makeup?" Alex questioned aloud, drying her brushes.

"Um.. I'm not the best, my brother's actually better than me now" I snickered, "I'm not terrible, but I definitely am not good at like.. late night looks. I'm more of a shimmer and or natural glam type of girl. I haven't properly done my makeup since Before Gemma came. I've done some stuff for New Years and Christmas.. but it wasn't anything impressive. I like your makeup" I noted, looking at her eyeshadow and highlight.

I texted with Aaliyah whilst Alex started working on my face, letting my boobs empty the milk into bottles.

I loved how comfortable I felt with Alex.

It only felt weird for a moment to be openly pumping in front of her, but she didn't make a big deal about it as she moved around my face, putting who knows what on different areas of my skin.

It was nice.

Once we were done, I inspected her work in the mirror, feeling like a whole new woman.

Makeup was magical.

A/N: Makeup look, outfit above, black strappy heels, hair curled and down

"You're a miracle worker" I praised, turning my head a little to catch the highlight against the bathroom mirror.

"Please" She scoffed, cleaning her brushes again whilst I kept tilting my face in the mirror.

"You hid all the redness from my picking" I noted, not seeing an ounce of irritated skin.

"You keep complaining about your acne, it really isn't that bad. Yeah you have acne, but so what" She replied nonchalantly.

"Let me slip that bra back on, grab my shoes and bag, put these in the freezer, and I'm ready"

"You wanted to brush your teeth, we still need to do your lipstick. Do you have to pee?" She asked, glancing over at my water bottle.

"Oh shit. God, this is why I'm always late" I griped out of breath, quickly hurrying to the kitchen to go put the breastmilk in the freezer.

I always heard that when you forgot to do it, that it felt like the worst thing in the world to pour it down the sink.

Thankfully, that hasn't happened to me yet.

I quickly sharpied the date on it, tossing the bags into the freezer before going to find my shoes and toothbrush.

"Leigh, we're not in a rush. Honestly, the later the better. Slow down before you break an ankle" She warned and I rolled my eyes, shoving her out of the bathroom so I could pee and brush my teeth in peace.

By the time we were out the door, I was extremely out of breath.

"Are you going to make it?" She laughed, turning the key in her car.

"No" I breathed out, huffing like I just ran the hardest race of my life.

"I can see that" She giggled.

It was about a 30 minute drive to the club, so we listened to the radio and had some small conversation, but somehow we landed on the topic of Colby.

"I know this is dumb, but I'm really disappointed I didn't get to wear the outfit I planned to his party. It sucks to have missed it. He did so much for me on my birthday.. he literally.." I paused, memories flashing through my head. "He.. he flew out and hung out with my relatives.. he fit in so well. It's like he's always been there.. and it just felt so nice.. and here I am, tearing his heart into pieces right before his, and now I don't even know what he did" I frowned, leaning my head against my hand, my elbow resting on the window console.

"Colby's the guy you were sort of seeing before we met right?" Alex asked and I groaned.

"I wasn't even seeing him. It's messy. We think we like each other, but I'm not ready, and I'm worried that he's in it for the wrong reasons" I confessed.

"Honestly Leighton, it sounds like you could really use this night out. Let's go drink and party and forget about all of our problems. We both look hot as fuck, so let's go find someone to mess around with and have a good time. Forget about this Colby guy, he's a nobody now. Let's go do something we'll regret"

* * * *

What do we think of Alex?

Written on: July 8th, 9th, 10th 2022

Word Count: 3.6k

Part Eight 

#colbybrock #colbybrockimagine #colbybrockfanfiction #wattpad #colbybrockwattpad #samgolbach #samandcolby #samandcolbywriting #lesbianimagine #lesbian #pride

[marvellfashion]

For the sleepover, am I the only one who really fucks with wolverine 😳 he's so hot and like for what?

- 🤡

So you are into hairy short men... how does that make you feel?

Sleepover

#i don’t think anyone’s called logan hot to my face #wolverine lovers come defend your man!! #ask #anon #logan howlett #wolverine

[elliehase-blog]

Are we gonna do this or what?

“What happened?”

Janus looks disparagingly at the ridiculous paper hat with the inscription ‘Dunce’. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, already knowing that he will not like the answer.

“Teach punished me for being a bad boy.”

Remus shows him a wide and reckless grin, looking actually proud of that incident. He probably is.

“So Logan gained the upper hand?” Janus asks just to be sure, teeth-gnashingly.

That didn’t go according to plan. He had sent the Duke for a reason. No one could create chaos better than him. The perfect trigger. Janus knows that, relied on it. But they failed. Again.

“We have lost a battle, not the war.” Remus shrugs his shoulders, carelessly, as if this all is not a great kick in the ass.

Janus stares at him and feels his left eyelid begin to twitch angrily. He hates it when everything goes wrong and there is no one to threaten, blackmail or blow up for it. He can’t cope with that.

“It’s not that bad, Jan,” he still insists. “I gave him a hard time, you know. Bear-trap, nails in his cornflakes, a zombie in the closet... I even sang pathetically.”

When Remus says such crazy things, they always sound like they actually make sense. It’s a talent.

“Common, let me show you.” He came closer, one hand already on his shoulder.

“Remus, buddy, yet is not the time for-”

Before Janus even starts to realize what’s happening, he finds himself on a stool with a butt rubbing his lap, dangerously close to his best piece.

“...”

Remus smirks, revealing a shark-like grin. He looks a bit sexy, but only a little, and Janus is too frustrated to acknowledge that. Hidden somewhere behind shapeless clothes and puffed sleeves from the designer hell, a ridiculous moustache and centimeter-thick makeup, Remus actually has a pretty face with finely cut features and puppy eyes. Rarely does anyone get to see that, because Remus doesn’t necessarily peddle it around.

“What are you doing?” Janus hisses, sounding like a snake ready to bite.

Undeterred, Remus continues. “Giving you an example how I drove Logan crazy.”

Janus closes his eyes and exhales audibly.

“Don’t tell me...”

“Not exactly like this, but I think you get the point.” Remus turns his head in Janus’s direction and laughs. He can feel his breath gently vibrating on his scales. “And you’re hot when you’re angry.”

“No! I’m angry when I’m angry.”

That’s a lie. Or something in between.

Only Remus ever dares to call him ‘hot’ and means it, which is perhaps down to the fact that he has a twisted taste, anyway. What person with sanity and reason would find a snake face attractive?

“Get off my lap or I’ll kill you.”

“You don’t.”

“Want to bet?”

Needless to say, that Remus stays where he is. He even has the audacity to lean back and rest on Janus’s chest. This sneaky rat!

Sometimes Janus wishes that Remus wasn’t so indifferent to death threats.

“Fine,” he says and wraps his arms around him like a boa around its prey. Tight and deadly. But not as deadly to honestly harm him, though.

For a couple of seconds they remain in silence, marvellous silence, which is so damn atypical for Remus that it should worry Janus. It doesn’t, however. Janus can feel Remus’s chest gently moving with a regular breath. It’s soothing. Somehow the annoying bastard always manages to calm him down in a strange way. Janus should be concerned.

“He’s almost back, Jan. I could see the orange glim in his eyes,” Remus whispers, sounding more sincere than one would ever expect from him.

“Hm,” huffs Janus, vaguely, loosening his grip a bit. Excitement and fear suddenly fighting in his chest. Well, that’s what they hoped for. Right?

The orange side has always been somewhat uncontrollable, though. Not uncontrollable in a way like Virgil, who had unexpectedly abandoned Janus for becoming one of the good guys. Ugh.

Before Janus can think about how uncontrollable and impulsive Remus is, he already starts to bounce from one buttock to the other.

“What now?”

“I’m bored,” Remus complains.

Even though he could have freed himself from Janus’s grip long ago, he still sits on his lap, inexplicably. Well, Remus has a lot of little things about him that defy any explanation. That’s a given. On top of that, he is terribly annoying. But at least he would never betray Janus, never let him down.

“We should do something,” Remus adds impatiently.

What Janus likes about that addition is the small word ‘we’.

“You still have to demonstrate me how Logan lectured you.” Janus clears his throat. “Are we gonna do that or what?”

There's silence again. Then a strange mixture of an unreadable and mischievous grin slowly begins to spread on Remus’s face. “Okay.”

There is not much room in Janus’s life and in his thoughts. Not for other things except crazy plans and this web of deceit. Around Remus, however, there’s sometimes silence, elusive but undeniably marvellous.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanart #sanders sides fic #demus #dukeceit #janus sanders #remus sanders #date with disaster #working through intrusive thoughts

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

part v

~

cw: homophobic encounter.

~

November

November shadows, 

shade November change

November spells sweet memory, 

the season blue remains

~

“Lo!” Finn called. “Guess who just got traded to the Rags.”

Cool dread spun its way into Logan’s chest at full force. He felt the point of one of his hips knock against the counter. “Quoi?”

“Marshy and Morgs!” Finn said, and the appeared around the corner into the kitchen, red hair a mess. “Like, together. Like us.”

“These were Harvard teammates, yeah?” Leo asked, spooning sugar into Logan’s coffee.

“Like us?” Logan said. “They’re dating?”

“Oh, no,” Finn laughed. “I just meant together, like, at the same time. Around the same time, I guess I should say.”

“Wow,” Logan nodded, which prompted Finn to imitate the way he said wow, drawing out the W’s. Logan smiled, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We could visit them over the next free weekend maybe.”

“Damn, that’d be a blast to the past.”

“What are they like?” Leo asked, leaning into Logan’s side.

“You’d love Will. Will Morgan, Morgs,” Logan said. “Really level-headed, probably the nicest person I know. Marshy…”

“Percy Marshall is one crazy motherfucker,” Finn said, and poured his own cup of coffee, black.

Logan leaned into mock-whisper to Leo. “And Finn gets insane when they’re together.”

Finn shot him a look, but continued. “Best way to say it. He’ll party until the sun, he’s crazy superstitious—worse than Cap and Loops combined—and he’s also,” Finn slid onto a stool. “One of the hardest working guys you’ll ever met. Probably the hardest working.” Finn’s smile was one Logan’s favorite one, made even more so by the fact that he got to see it directed at Leo. “Until I met you, that is, Nut.”

Leo let out a pleased laugh and let Logan brush a hand through his hair. “Well, they’re in our division now. I’ll get to meet them.”

“Oh, man, we’re in for a fucking treat when we play New York next,” Finn grinned. “Gonna hit the town hard.”

Leo snorted. “You guys might.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn pressed a kiss to Leo’s cheek. “I know everyone we need to know.”

“And I can finally tell you,” Logan began. “That the first time you dragged me around New York knowing ever person you saw, I loved you.”

Finn blushed a little and let Leo pull him to settle in the V of his legs from where he was leaning back against the counter. “Well, it’ll be nice to see them.”

Logan nodded, but part of his chest pulled. He cleared his throat. “Ouais. Also…”

When he paused, Leo tapped their socked toes together encouragingly.

Logan shrugged and looked down into his coffee. He thought of Finn’s quick breaths when they took the Cup back to Harvard. He thought of kissing him in their old room. He thought of everything before. Percy and Will were a part of all of that. Not directly, maybe, but Logan knew what seeing them again would do.

“Memories,” Finn said, and Leo nudged him.

“Don’t say it for him.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Memories,” Logan agreed. “Good and bad.”

~

Remus missed the net three times in fifteen minutes, and only barely managed to keep himself from breaking his stick against the boards. He would be embarrassed afterwards if he had, but could it really be so much worse than the way that he felt now?

He accepted Thomas’ fist bump as he passed him going into the locker room and sat down heavily in his stall. The game had been close, but the Devils had won out in the end. He glanced at some of the assistant coaches, who were murmuring together. There was no guarantee it was about him, but it still felt as thought it was. Sirius was talking with Evgeni, Evgeni’s loud laugh warming up the room. Remus stripped out of his sweaty uniform quickly and was headed for the showers with a towel around his waist when someone slapped him on the back.

“It’s decided,” Logan’s accent came from beside him. He wasn’t bothering with his towel, which was slung over his bare shoulder. The fleur-de-lis tattoo on his hip—and everything else—was on full display. “Me and Talker are taking you out tonight.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean exactly?”

Logan just smiled. “No boyfriends. No hockey. We have a day off tomorrow, so no pressure. Just some drinks.”

“And some pool, maybe,” Thomas said, coming up to Remus’ other side. “What do you say, Loops? Fun, eh?”

“Okay, one of you is butt-naked right now and the other is in a three-piece suit. I’m going to say yes and shower, all right?”

Thomas gave a whoop, and Remus couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he dropped his towel in the change room and turned on the hot water. He felt like a sling-shot lately, being catapulted one way, and then in the opposite direction. He guessed he should feel thankful that his friends could pick him up like that, and he did, but another part of him caved in beneath the sheer affection.

I’m letting you down.

He scrubbed his hands through his hair, and looked over his shoulder when he felt a gentle, quick kiss against the back of his neck.

“Bonsoir,” Sirius said with a soft smile, and went to the shower head beside him.

“Hi,” Remus smiled back. “Beautiful goal tonight.”

He watched the water lace over Sirius’ tan skin, darkening his hair further as he pushed it back, away from his face. “You’re beautiful.”

“Hey, Olli,” Finn called across the showers, making Olli look over at him. “You’re fucking beautiful, man.”

Olli just squeezed shampoo into his palm. “I know that, Harzy.”

Sirius’ laugh echoed through the showers, joined by others, and Remus let it warm around him like the steam.

“Apparently Tremz and Talkie are taking me out tonight,” he said to Sirius as they walked back into the locker room.

“Tremz,” Sirius called over to him. “Ouch.”

“Pas de capitaines,” Logan waved him off and went back to looking at whatever Leo was showing him on his phone. Sirius laughed and looked back to Remus.

“Sounds perfect,” he said. “Wake me up when you come in if I’m asleep.”

“And go to bed without a kiss?” Remus glanced down at the towel slung low across Sirius’ hips, then back up to his bright silver eyes. “I’d never.”

Sirius smiled and kissed him, but Remus felt the unspoken settling between them. Sirius had stopped bringing up wanting to help with Remus’ shortcomings on the ice. Remus knew he had brought that upon himself with refusals after refusals to talk about it, but now it felt more like a thing. An object. An ugly vase in the corner of the room.

Maybe he really did need to go out tonight.

Thomas settled in his stall beside Remus. “We’re gonna go to Red’s, yeah?”

Remus nodded as he pulled his gray t-shirt over his head. He held up his dark jeans. “I can wear this, right?”

“Fuck yeah, I’m not wearing this thing,” Thomas picked at the lapel of his suit. “Noelle already screen shotted the snapchat I sent her. Why keep it on now?”

Remus just laughed. “All right, Talkie. Lead the way.”

Red’s bar was shoved up against the side of a larger block of buildings in Gryffindor. Remus glanced up, one or two stars were poking through the increasingly cooling loud cover. Inside it was warm, though. Foggy in the way some rooms get when there are lots of happy people in them. Logan had chosen a long-sleeved, dark gray cotton shirt, so thin that Remus could see each ridge of his defined muscles and his necklace, too.

“What the fuck happens when that thing gets wet?” Remus snorted, plucking at it as they waited for their drinks at the bar.

“I’ll pretend we had a fight,” Thomas said. “Throw a drink on you, find out.”

Logan just eyed them suspiciously as they leaned against the bar. “You guys are strange.”

Thomas just flagged the bartender, stretching the white material of his thin knit sweater. He ordered a whiskey, Logan a rum and coke, and Remus opted for a lighter gin and tonic. They still had a game on barely 72 hours. Not that anyone was that much of a light weight, but he didn’t want any assumptions being made, any photographs taken that could put him in a worse light than he already was.

“I know what this is, you know,” he said after Logan and Thomas’ intense COD debate had gone on too long. They both looked over at him, the picture of innocence. Remus rolled his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Media’s a bitch,” Thomas said. “That’s all this is. Hockey’s hard. You can’t help that you live with Cap, who makes it all look like a piece of cake.”

Logan laughed. “I think Cap would disagree. He stinks after games, mon dieu.”

Remus and Thomas shared a look. “And you don’t?”

“Finn likes it,” Logan smirked. “Gets him going.”

“Are you sure its the stench and not the muscles?” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

Logan waved him off. “I’m not talking about this with you two. We’re here for Loops.”

Remus groaned. “Guys…it’s not…I mean every player goes through this, right?”

They both nodded.

“Sure,” Thomas said. “But it doesn’t help that some people—“

“Assholes,” Logan amended.

“Right. It doesn’t help that some assholes don’t think you deserve to be here.”

Remus tilted his glass towards him. “Yeah.”

“We just think…” Logan began uncertainly, tongue poking out to wet his full bottom lip. “Look, I love Cap. He’s like a brother. But he’s intense. For him…sometimes hockey solves hockey.”

Remus wavered. “Yes and no.”

“We just thought you might want some other ears,” Thomas offered a smile. “I mean we can’t offer a feel good night of lovin’ to make you feel better…”

Remus snorted. “Right. You know, Talkie, that’s exactly what Sirius calls it.”

Thomas cracked up, too. “But we can offer drinks. And, you know…”

Logan raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “Ears?”

“Right,” Thomas nodded. “Look at Tremzy over here, finishing my sentences.”

Remus let his smile die down a little. “I…thanks, guys. I mean, I love talking to Sirius, but I also…he is the Captain. He’s a representation of all of us. I feel a little…” Remus took a slow breath, not sure if he was even ready for the words to come out of his mouth. “I feel a little like I’m letting him, and you all, down sometimes.”

“Aw, Loops,” Thomas said, voice softened.

“I know,” Remus sighed. “It’s just…it creeps in sometimes.”

Remus watched Logan swallow. “I get it. If there’s anything I can understand it’s guilt.”

“Tremz,” Remus said comfortingly. “I guess I should listen to my own advice here, but it’s not your fault. I can be ears, too, you know.”

“Is this…” Thomas said quietly. “Carrot?”

They both stared at him. “Carrot?”

“Code names,” Thomas whispered, even though the tables were noisy and the bar was somewhat empty.

Logan laughed a little, and nodded.

Remus waited. Logan gathered thoughts slowly, carefully. Interrupting, he’d learned while talking with Leo, tended to scatter them. He was also happy that the spotlight wasn’t entirely on him anymore.

“I found him at Harvard,” Logan began, swallowing dryly despite the drink in his hand. “And I was a mess. And then we spent that year apart, and I was a mess. And then I found him again, in Gryffindor, and I was a mess. I fell in love with Leo and I was a mess.” He looked at them, eyes pleading, then back down at his drink. “I am so, so happy now. It worked out. I can’t believe my luck. I wake up so fucking happy every morning. Every little look at them, my life with them, is incredible.”

Remus and Thomas waited some more. Thomas sent Remus a half smile across him, then leaned his cheek on his fist.

Finally, Logan finished. “But I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t a mess without them.” He closed his eyes, exhaled a frustrated breath through his nose. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah, it really does. Tremz, I get it.” He tilted his glass, making his ice cubes stir the liquid inside. “You’re someone when you’re with who you love. But you gotta be your own someone, too.”

“Ouais,” Logan was already nodded. “Right, like…Re, you’re you, no matter what. Leo, he’s the same way. Finn, too.”

Remus sighed. “I’m not so sure right now. But I think what you’re saying makes sense. Tremz, you’re allowed to want that for yourself. It’s not a slight to the boys. At all.”

Logan laughed, still laced with frustration. He rubbed at his eyes. “But I don’t even know what I’m asking for.”

Remus smiled. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve got a pretty level-headed duo in your corner. I mean, Finn’s Finn.”

Thomas snorted. “Might take him a second.”

Logan smiled and it was fond. “Yeah.”

“But Leo…” Remus snapped his fingers. “He’ll get it. They both will.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at the bar. “I’m not asking for space. I don’t want space. I don’t want anything to change I just want to stop feeling like I’ll crash and burn by myself.”

“Me too,” Remus admitted. “Maybe in a different way, but…me too.”

“I don’t know if I feel like I’m gonna crash,” Thomas said thoughtfully. “But hey, life’s tough sometimes.” He smiled and raised his glass. “Friends.”

They clinked their glasses together, laughing, the conversation turning to organizing a pick-up game in the park that weekend—if it didn’t snow. 

“Gotta use the big WC, gents,” Thomas said after a while, picking up his crutches. “Then pool?”

“Who the hell calls it that?” Remus snorted.

“Me,” Thomas called over his shoulder, politely excusing his way through the crowd with his charming smile and causing a few longing looks to follow him at his back.

Logan drained the last of his rum and coke. “You don’t feel like Cap’s putting pressure on you, do you?”

Remus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment. “God, no. No, he’s been nothing but supportive. It’s mostly me, I think. He even wants to talk about it. Sometimes I just…can’t.”

Logan nodded. “Good. No, good, I just thought I’d ask. When I first met him, he’d get like that with me sometimes. Wanting to run extra drills or talk through tape. I snapped at him for it a bit. This was before he was really who he is now.”

“Parents were lingering in him,” Remus nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

A man came to lean against the bar beside Remus, then, and Remus shot him a smile that he hoped looked friendly rather than uneasy. The guy was really in his space. He shared a look with Logan, who’s shoulders were rounded a little in alert, green eyes narrowed in on the guy.

“You’re Lupin, eh?” the man said.

Remus sighed softly, looking down at his now watery drink. He should’ve known.

“Yep,” he replied, and looked at the man. He had two friends, hovering a little ways back.

“What’s going on this season, huh?”

The worst part was that the man was smiling, as if he thought this conversation was going to go well.

“I mean, I know you’re with the Captain and all,” the man said. “But, I mean…come on. Some of us care about how the team does.”

“Excuse me?” Remus replied.

The man tilted his head, looking mockingly regretful. “It’s not just about you.”

“Okay,” Remus said, keeping his voice flat.

“What he do to get you there?” the man asked, leaning in like they were friends. “I mean, like…some type of reward, or does he already give you those at home?”

Remus flushed. “I think we’re done talking.”

At least his friends had the decency to look a little nervous.

The man narrowed his eyes. “I’m just saying.”

“Fuck off, man,” Logan said in a low tone.

“What,” he sneered. “You got yourself a boyfriend, too, Tremblay?”

Logan was on his feet then, stools screeching back, taller than the man, stronger. Remus’ arm shot out against his chest, keeping him and his balled fists back. The man’s friend stepped forward, too.

“Whoa, Mike,” one of the friends said, hesitating. “That’s not why we…that’s not what this is.”

“Oh,” Thomas scoffed, announcing himself as he made his way back to them. He somehow made his crutches and boot look threatening. “Wrong type of harassment for you, my guy?”

The fans’ eyes went large. “Talker…”

Thomas just stared at them, and Remus watched him go from Thomas Walker with his friends to Thomas Walker on the ice, defensemen. Enforcer. “Only my friends call me that. Sit down at your own table or get out.”

Thomas shouldered through them, one crutch landing briefly on Mike’s shoe, who only just bit back a groan. Thomas was all bright, sharp grin as he sat down, leaning his crutches against the bar again. He waved the bartender over, then looked at Mike who was still standing there.

“Do I have say it again for you?” Logan snarled. “Trust me, you don’t want me to.”

Logan sat down slowly as the three men backed up and turned away. Remus pressed a thankful hand to his shoulder, also meant to calm him down a bit.

“Well, that was fun,” Thomas sighed. “Jesus. We take you out to forget about it and those three show up.”

“It’s fine,” Remus said, though his heart was pounding. “I’m surprised that was the first time it happened. Had a close call at the grocery store the other day.”

“Another round?” Logan asked. “Then pool?”

“Ouais,” Remus smiled, in his best impression of Sirius.

~

Most of November passed without change. Remus felt the stagnant ball of frustration in his stomach. He and Sirius cooked together, slowly mastering more and more recipes. Remus lived for the triumphant look on Sirius’ face when a dish came out just right. He went out with Logan and Thomas, with James and Sirius, Finn and Jackson and Kasey. He never felt more at home than when he was tucked against Sirius’ side at a team dinner, watching Logan toss food into Finn’s mouth from across the table, hollering when he caught it and then ruffling an embarrassed Leo’s hair, who was shushing them.

The weather had officially turned to Gryffindor winter, biting harsher and harsher with each night. It got to the point where Marlene started bugging them all about the Christmas video—for the fans, she kept insisting. Come on guys, it’ll be fun!

Evgeni seemed to be the only one who was truly game for it.

Remus wasn’t unhappy, but the media was growing more and more aggravated with him, the fans’ patience was running thin like ice, and now Arthur had started sending him glancing looks until, finally, he pulled Remus into his office as the boys were packing up.

The ball rolled around Remus’ ribs, fighting for space with his heart, and he sat in the leather chair across from Arthur’s desk.

Arthur took off his glasses, which was a bad sign. He didn’t say anything for a long time and Remus didn’t have the courage to make him.

“I know,” Remus finally said, and then his throat choked up. “I’m…”

“I don’t want any apologies,” Arthur said. “And, God, Lupin, I didn’t bring you in here to yell at your so get that look off your face.”

Remus blinked through the scarce relief and looked down at his hands.

“Media’s being real tough, I know,” Arthur sighed. “I know. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine,” Remus said. “I’m just…it’s not connecting, I…I don’t know. Maybe I could put in more time one-on-one with one of the coaches. Or ground work with the trainers. I know we’re about to go on the road. Maybe tomorrow morning before practice.”

Arthur hesitated, then nodded. “If you’d like. But overworking yourself isn’t gonna help if that’s not the issue. Frankly, I don’t think skill is the issue. You’re a beautiful skater out there. You’re wicked fast and can misdirect hits like I’ve never seen. But…”

“No net,” Remus mumbled.

Arthur looked regretful. “No net.”

Remus nodded. “I’m working on it. I’m doing everything I can.”

“I don’t doubt that, Remus. Really. Don’t think I do. I’ll be seeing you at the Dumais Thanksgiving, yeah?” Arthur asked.

Remus nodded, spared a smile. “Of course.”

Arthur smiled back and rose. He clapped Remus on the back as he opened the door to his office again. “Good. Try and relax over the break, okay? I know it’s short, but sometimes its less work that pays off. It doesn’t always have to be more.” He looked up. “Ah, another young rascal I’ve had to say that to.”

Remus looked up to see Sirius’ smile, his dark hair curling against his neck, but otherwise tucked under a thick black winter hat. Every muscle in Remus’ body eased at the sight of him. He wanted to wrap himself up in Sirius, tuck himself inside of his winter coat and never leave.

“Cap,” Arthur gave him a nod. “See you for Turkey. Who you’ve got for the big game?”

Sirius just shrugged. “American football. Who cares?”

Arthur made a wounded noise—and another one came from Leo and Thomas down the hall as they were bundling up for the cold. Evgeni was holding Thomas’ crutches for him as Jackson helped him into his coat. Remus cracked up and took the warm palm Sirius held out. They walked down the hallway that smelled familiar and warm, under toned by the scent of carpet and cleaner that, had it been any stronger, would have been unpleasant, but it just added to the familiarity.

The garage door rattled shut behind them as Sirius unlocked their back door, letting them into their warm kitchen. Remus shook out of his coat, hanging it in the closet and rubbing his hands together. With his coat and bag, he tried to drop everything else at the door. This was his and Sirius’ space. This wasn’t a rink, or a locker room, or the press room. Theirs. The word was warmer than the heat Sirius had set to come on a half hour before they got home.

“I’m starving,” he said. “What do you feel like? I maybe want pasta.”

“I feel like you,” came the reply from behind him.

Remus’ smile was slow and he turned to see a glint in Sirius’ eye. “What is it, the cold weather? You’ve been all riled up after games lately.”

Sirius just grinned, hands squeezing Remus’ hips. “I love watching you out there.” He pressed a kiss to Remus’ cheek, his neck and his nose, between each phrase. “I love your face, I love your feet, I love your shoulders, and the way you bite the finger of your glove while you watch the game between shifts.” The kisses got considerably more heavy, lingering and accompanied by the the brush of a tongue and teeth. “I love the way you cradle a puck and the way you tape your stick. The way your hair sticks to your neck.”

Remus just smiled, eyes closed. “I’ve been playing like shit.”

“Nu-uh,” Sirius said, and Remus whined a little at the next nip, letting Sirius rock him back against the kitchen counter. “Slumps are normal. You play amazing. Just no points. Shit and slumps,” Sirius said, and Remus’ mouth went dry as he was lowering himself to his knees. “Shit and slumps are different.”

Remus let out a laugh. “Aren’t those the words to turn a guy on.”

Sirius just grinned and bit at his pants zipper. “I love you.”

“Better choice.”

Sirius carefully pulled Remus’ zipper down. “Can I? Here?”

Remus only reply was tugging Sirius’ hat free to get at his hair, the thick strands weaving between his fingers. He could already feel himself getting interested, pressing against the slip of his boxers by Sirius’ proximity alone.

“Sirius Black,” Remus sighed as Sirius nuzzled against him.  He stroked over his hair, overwhelmed with how much every part of Sirius meant to him. “I love you.”

Sirius took one of the hands Remus had in his hair by and kissed the inside of his wrist.

Remus let Sirius’ mouth fuzz his mind out, moaning softly at his hollowed out cheeks, laughing at the gentle nips to his hips and thighs. After, Sirius kissed him against the counter until both of their stomachs growled. Remus pressed his mouth against Sirius’ flushed hot cheek.

“I feel like a million bucks, thanks, baby.”

Sirius just smiled, tucking himself away.

It was true. Remus felt home. Settled. Almost as if he could forget the conversation today. Maybe even like he wanted to go down the the basement rink, just for fun, which he hadn’t felt like in a while.

“D’accord,” Remus sing-songed. “We have pasta or chicken or both.”

Sirius grinned. “Both.”

They were mostly quiet as they cooked, bumping hips, iPhone playing softly through their speakers. Remus watched the way Sirius kept his fingers carefully curled away from the knife, like Remus’ mom had taught him that summer. His tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth, the same way it did when he was carrying a puck up the ice.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sirius asked softly as Remus minced garlic.

Remus glanced over at him, then kept his eyes on his fingers, so close to the sharp blade. “Um. Coach says it’s not my fault. He says I’m playing well. It’s just…pointless.”

“C’est pas—”

“No, not like pointless, like, pointless. Like I’m not getting net.”

“Ah.”

They smiled at each other, Remus’ a little shakier.

“Yeah.”

I feel like I’m letting you down.

“I feel…” Remus began, and the words caught. “Um. I mean, it’ll get better. It has to.”

Sirius’ expression flickered, but he nodded. “Mhm.”

“Do you feel like a white sauce?” Remus asked, turning to the refrigerator. “Go well with the chicken.”

“Sure,” Sirius nodded. “Sounds perfect, mon loup.”

Remus took a long breath as he opened the refrigerator doors, maybe taking longer than necessary to find the half & half. He was angry at himself. He didn’t know why the words were sticking to the back of his throat. He didn’t want pity, he supposed. He didn’t want Sirius to feel like he had to comfort him. Remus closed his eyes.

He’d do better.

~

Leo and Finn had their shoulders pressed together, each with their own book in their hands, when Logan opened the apartment door.

“Got the cream,” Logan raised the shopping back, and Leo all but leapt from the cushions.

“Yeah you do,” Finn said without looking up.

“Thank you,” Leo slid on his socks in his rush to get to Logan. He pressed his palms to Logan’s cold cheeks, kissing him in a quick burst. “Thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Logan smiled as Leo scurried back into the kitchen to finish making his part of the the American Thanksgiving dinner Pascal was hosting.

“I can’t believe I ran out,” Leo said, stirring something on the stove.

“It’s fine, Le,” Logan said, shrugging out of his jacket and following him in. “Happy to get you whatever you need.”

Leo turned, a touched pout on his face, and Logan beat him to it this time with a slower kiss of his own. Leo tasted like the caramel he had had them all taste test earlier and Logan licked into his mouth eagerly.

“I love you, too,” Logan mumbled.

Leo’s expression softened in the way it always did when one of them said that. Maybe Logan wasn’t the only one who couldn’t believe his luck.

“Want to peel sweet potatoes?” Leo asked with a hopeful grin, and Logan laughed.

“Sure, soleil.”

Finn gasped from the couch, eyes on his book, glasses on his nose. “They kissed. I fucking knew they would.”

Leo gasped, too. “No. Harzy, spoilers, you’re faster than me.”

Logan looked between them. “Are you guys reading the same book again, like, next to each other?”

“Sorry,” Finn said, but he was gripping the book like another secret might spill out. “And yes.”

Leo pressed a peeler into his hands with another kiss, this one fast and skittering across his cheekbone.

“I love both of you,” Logan sighed as he picked up the first potato. “You’re weird.”

Finn closed his book without marking his place and heaved himself up with a groan, cracking his back. He came to sit at the bar counter across from where Logan was peeling.

“Thanks for the help, Harz,” Logan said.

“I don’t like it when my hands smell like potato.”

Leo laughed. “Sweetheart, how’d you ever survive on your own?”

“Take out,” Finn and Logan answered at the same time.

“And catering,” Finn added. “I think the NHL is used to boys who can’t cook. Marlene just slid the caterer’s card into my hand without a word.”

Leo just shook his head. “She tried the same thing on me. Honey, please.”

Logan and Finn shared a smile, both turning to gaze at Leo’s back.

“How much time do we have?” Leo asked.

“Like, two hours, babe, you’re good,” Finn said.

“Do I have time to ravish you in your glasses?” Logan asked.

Finn raised a teasing eyebrow. “Oh, these old things? You want to wear them?”

Logan dropped his peeler and walked around the counter. He spun Finn to face him on the stool and Finn’s feet hooked around his calves, holding him there. “Non.”

Finn smiled, leaning forward to nip at Logan’s bottom lip and pull.

“Tremblay, potatoes.”

Logan groaned and Finn gave his butt a firm slap as he pulled away. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

~

“Uh, hey dad,” Cole cleared his throat. “It’s me. I just um. I’m in Pascal Dumais’ house. Can you believe that? Uh, I just wanted to say…you know, happy Thanksgiving, and all that. Maybe you can come out to a game soon? Yeah…let me know, I can get you tickets. Okay. Okay, see you. Merry—or happy Thanksgiving. Yeah, okay. Bye.”

Cole sighed as he put his phone down and looked around the Dumais’ sitting room. It was tidy, with food laid out every table, ready for guests. Cole, after that phone call, already felt tired.

There was a knock on the doorframe and he turned to see Layla, smiling at him hesitantly. She held out a glass of a deep colored wine. “I thought maybe you’d want some.”

“Oh, I can’t, uh…” Cole began.

Layla snorted. “Me neither, but…” she glanced around the tall-ceilinged living room. “Who’s gonna tell? Dumo? Please.”

Cole laughed a little and took the thin stem from her fingers. “Thank you.”

Layla nodded, bending for a cheese and cracker. “That sounded a little tough. If you don’t mind me saying.”

Cole pocketed his phone. “It’s not really. Well…maybe now it is. But I don’t think of him that way, of this that way. He’s a good father.”

He sounded defensive even to himself and sighed. “When he decides to be.”

“He hard on you?” Layla asked. She took a seat on the couch and Cole glanced around before settling on the ottoman of one of the fat leather chairs. “About all this?”

“Hockey?” Cole said, then laughed. “No. No way, he doesn’t give a shit about ice hockey. My mom got me into hockey. My dad still hopes I’ll be, like, I don’t know…I don’t know what.”

Layla frowned. “It’s not like you could’ve been a money-bags doctor and chose to paint watercolors instead?”

Cole cracked a smile. “Yeah…Yeah, he sort of skipped around a lot before I actually started getting good.”

“Oh,” Layla said softly.

The doorbell rang. And then rang again and again, like someone was jamming their finger into it repeatedly.

“Tremzy!” he heard Katie shriek a moment later.

Warm voices filled the hall.

Cole rose and, after a moment, offered Layla a hand. She smiled, letting him pull her up. “It’s not as sob-story as it sounds.”

“I get it,” Layla nodded. “My older sister skipped altogether when I was little. Still don’t know why. I know it’s not the same but…”

“I’m sorry,” Cole said.

Layla just smiled, one of her bright ones, and wrapped her hand—gold rings and all—around his arm. “Come on. Shit’s about to get wild.”

“And delicious,” Cole said, turning towards the smells coming from the kitchen.

Layla laughed, and Cole wanted to hear that sound twenty more times.

#vaincre lumosinlove #wolfstar #harry potter #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #sweater weather lumosinlove #sirius black #wolfstar au #remus lupin #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #Leo x Logan x finn #Thomas walker #Cole reyes #hockey au #Harry Potter hockey au #brief smut #cw: homophobia

[captain039]

Secrets of mutation

Logan(wolverine) x reader

Warnings: Age gap, student/teacher, AOB, trauma, swearing, sexual, intimate, a little forceful, anxiety

Xmen/new mutants

AOB will be referred to second gender xD

The alarms were blaring in your ear when you woke. Startled and uncoordinated you got out of bed and looked out the door seeing no one but flashing lights, what the hell was going on?

You remember waking up in this strange place, handcuffed to a bed in some strange room filled with other empty hospital beds. You don’t remember much from before, your past blurry. A woman had come in, a tablet in hand as she scanned you with something.

“Where am I?” You asked.

“Who are you?!” You added tugging at the cuffs.

“Calm down Miss Y/n, my name is Dr Reyes, you’re at a facility” you frowned at her words.

“What facility?” You questioned.

“A facility for mutants like yourself” she said typing down something.

“You do know what mutants are yes?” You nodded to her question.

“I’m- not a mutant” you trailed off a little unsure.

“You are Y/n, a little late in showing but none the less, a mutant” she walked to your cuffs and you flinched as she unlocked them.

“What’s my mutation?” You asked rubbing your wrists.

“We have yet to figure that out” she smiled.

“I’ll show you around”

It was more of a cage for mutants than a program, you learnt after some time, the others you were with didn’t appreciate new blood apparently except Sam, Danny and Rahne. You were finding it difficult to present your power to anyone and yourself. Rahne said she could sense you differently from the others, you were unsure why though. As it became more clear you weren’t getting out you began to freak out. Your mind forcefully trying to figure out what happened before, your parents, your life? You couldn’t remember any of it, just flashes of faceless people and laughs. You got nightmares every night, something different each time, a jumble of memories perhaps. When those alarms rang though you sought nothing but freedom.

You had found the others as they looked around confused also. You all had headed outside a jet of some sort landing nearby.

“Who the hell is that?” Roberto asked.

“How are we supposed to know?!” Rahne yelled as a voice filled your head.

“It’s alright” it said as the jet opened and an old man came out on a wheelchair.

“No!” You heard Dr Reyes stumbling out as a orange bubble surrounded you. You were suffocating in it as you fell to your knees gasping for breath, desperately bashing on the force.

You had awoken to soft beeping, before it slowly picked up much like your heart beat. You looked around this feeling to familiar when someone walked in.

“You’re awake” she said as you stared at her, machine beating rapidly.

“What’s going on?!” You tugged against the tubes on you and panicked.

“Calm down” she said rushing to you quickly.

“My names Storm” she said and you frowned.

“You’re at professors Xaviers school” you frowned at her words.

“School?” You questioned looking around the high tech medical lab.

“Well above us is the school” she chuckled.

“You might know us better by the xmen” she said and you still stared.

“Took us a while to find your facility, I’m afraid you’re not the only one who was in that situation, they’re happening everywhere” she sighed sadly.

“That shield around it blocked the Professor out for a while till he got in” you laid back down, head spinning.

“Are the others ok?” You asked.

“They’re fine, getting use to the school, Magik causing some trouble but she’ll adapt” she stood by your bed.

“I-I don’t know my mutation” you mumbled.

“That’s why the professors here” she said softly as someone walked in. You sat up again seeing the old man in the chair.

“I’m not that old” he chuckled and you flushed.

“I didn’t-“ you frowned at him.

“My mutation my dear, I can hear people’s thoughts” he smiled stopping by your bed.

“Oh” you said.

“Don’t worry I won’t scope around in their unless you require me too” he chuckled you crossed your arms awkwardly.

“Bad joke I’m afraid” he said as Storm chuckled.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Um?” You said.

“Yes I’d imagine this situation is rather stressful but we are here to help” he offered a warm smile.

“I don’t know what to do- I don’t remember my past apart from waking up in that facility, nor do I know my mutation” you said.

“Yes, the facility’s, the Essex’s program give you a serum that takes away your memories of your past life, to better focus the mind” he sighed.

“As for your mutation I can help you find it” he smiled.

“Essex’s program?” You asked.

“Yes there are secret facility’s around the world, covered by the orange shield, they hold powerful mutants in there for testing, turn them into weapons with no memories” he spoke grimly, his eyes downcast.

“It’s hard for me to get through the shield without causing a big war” he sighed.

“These programs are made by the government, to test on mutants the deem powerful and dangerous and turn them into killers in the future” he looked to the woman who had a saddened face also.

“It’s hard to find you all” she said sadly.

“Terrible thing” she added.

“Come, I’ll show you around the school, lighten your mood a bit” the Professor smiled. You stood slowly thankful your clothes were still on and not some stupid hospital gown. You followed the Professor through a bright hall and into an elevator.

As the door opened again you were stunned by the house and smells. Old but clean with students walking around.

“They’re all mutants” the Professor said as you looked to each one as you walked.

“We have classes upstairs and down stairs, down the end here is the cafeteria” he pointed down the hall and you nodded.

“Back this way is the smaller kitchen and toilets along with rooms on the left side” he added pointing out each room.

“The floor below us is where you train, like for PE and fighting” he said.

“There’s a courtyard and plenty of room outside as well as in” he smiled going up the stairs.

“Professor!” You jumped as someone called.

“Ah Logan” you turned with the professor seeing the man coming towards you. You were hit with something though, an overwhelming scent and you held a hand over your nose.

“What?” The man said.

“I don’t stink that bad” he sniffed himself and you shook your head.

“No Logan I don’t think she understands our second gender” the Professor said and you frowned.

“Jesus kid” the man muttered.

“Did you need something Logan?” The Professor asked.

“Yeah that girl you found her with Magik? She’s causing a bloody mess again” he huffed hands on his hips and you perked up.

“Shall we go see your friends?” The Professor asked and you nodded. As you walked away from the man you glanced back meeting his gaze. You gulped looking away and speeding up a bit.

“Y/n!” Rahne was the first to run to you. You sighed hugging them tightly. Danny joined and you felt tears in your eyes. Sam came over too and you chuckled giving him a hug also.

“You guys ok?” You asked pulling back.

“We’re fine” Rahne said.

“How are you?” Sam asked.

“I’m ok, I think” you gulped a little glancing to the professor.

“You’ve been out a couple of days” Danny said and you frowned.

“Really?” You asked and she nodded.

“Was worried you weren’t gonna get up” you turned seeing Roberto and went to hug him.

“I get a hug?” He said in awe and you chuckled shaking your head.

“Where is your friend Magik?” The Professor asked.

“Outside in her little world” Roberto sighed.

“She hasn’t taken a liking to this place” Rahne said.

“She never liked being cooped up anyway” you shrugged.

“Y/n are you happy to stay here while I go talk to her?” The Professor asked.

“Yeah, thank you” you whispered and he smiled leaving.

You sat on the couch sighing, head hung back.

“We’re really at Professor Xaviers school” Danny said in little awe.

“The xmen” you mumbled.

“Yep” Rahne said.

“Seems strange we weren’t sent here- but then again we were in a secret program” Sam said.

“Secret program of psychos” Roberto grumbled.

“I don’t understand why I was there though” you said saddened.

“I don’t know my powers, I don’t know anything apparently” you sighed leaning your head in your hands.

“What’s the second gender?” You asked.

“You don’t know?” Roberto asked surprised.

“No” you mumbled.

“The second gender is-“ Sam stuttered on his words.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega” Rahne said and you frowned.

“I don’t understand?” You said.

“It’s a ranking system almost” Roberto spoke up.

“When you hit puberty is when you know your rank, Alphas are the-“ before Roberto could speak Danny interrupted.

“Alphas are hot headed idiots” she rolled her eyes as Roberto huffed like a child.

“Betas are in the middle class, omegas in the bottom and alphas at the top” Rahne said.

“What are you guys?” You said.

“Robertos an alpha so is Sam and Illyana, I’m a beta and so is Danny” you frowned at Rahne words.

“What am I?” You said.

“You’re an omega” Sam muttered.

“So I’m beneath you?” You questioned.

“No it- it doesn’t work like that” he sighed.

“Then how does it work?” You asked desperate.

“I can’t explain it’s always been there” Sam shrugged.

“What the hell” you mumbled sinking into to the couch more.

“I’m sure the professor can help you” Rahne held your hand as you tried to smile and nod. You didn’t know your past, your powers, your second gender? Who even were you?

Next Chapter ->

#x reader #au #aob #hugh jackman #hugh jackman x reader #Logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine #xmen #the new mutants #mutants #marvel

[fruitcoops]

Can you write a thing about the first time remus looks into the stands during a game, and he realizes that people are holding up a sign for him, or wearing his jersey? i just need him to be so loved by the lions fans

Yes, yes, YES. He deserves all the fans, every single one. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Annie is mine!

Remus still couldn’t believe it. He had already played three games with the team—as a player, a real-life, on-the-ice, paid-to-skate player—but it still felt like a dream every time he stepped into the rink. His parents had flown back home the previous day after a million and a half promises not to get hurt and to wear his mouthguard, and while Remus was used to them being gone, it felt different playing without them in the stands.

He fist-bumped Sirius on the way out of the locker room and knocked the fronts of their helmets together; his ‘captain mode’ had already taken over, but Remus still saw a smile as he passed. “Let’s go!” James whooped as the roar of the fans ahead deafened them.

Remus grinned, wild and broad, as his pulse picked up and adrenaline burned hot in his throat. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go. The ice was smooth beneath his skates, made perfect just for them—he did one loop around the goal, two, and a third before snagging a puck and lining up across from James for a quick passing game. The rhythm soothed him; his wrists relaxed. Let’s go.

Talker whacked the backs of his legs as he passed and Remus checked him lightly, earning himself a bark of laughter. “Watch it, Loops!”

“Square up, Talkie!”

“Careful, you’ve gotta set a good example for your admirers,” he teased.

Remus paused, bewildered. “What?”

Talker tilted his chin toward the row of seats to the right and Remus turned, only to stop cold as red and gold filled his vision. There were jerseys for James, Sirius, Kasey, Finn, Kuny—

And him.

Dead center in a group of kids was a young girl with two missing front teeth, jumping up and down in excitement. The bright 6 on her jersey shone like new and she waved to him with both hands. To him, as if he was some sort of hero.

Her eyes widened when she saw him watching, and though her shriek was lost in the noise of the crowd, her joy reverberated through the plexiglass. He was moving before his brain caught up to his skates; in his gloves, his hands had begun to shake. “Hi!” he called, crouching down to her level with a tentative wave.

She whipped around and grabbed a woman—her mother, perhaps—by the hand, pulling with all the strength in her body.

“Hi,” Remus said again. He was too stunned to think of anything witty.

She beamed at him and pressed both palms to the glass, speaking too fast for him to hear. He glanced up to the woman next to her. You’re her favorite, she mouthed.

“Me?” He looked back to the little girl and pointed to himself, and she nodded frantically. “I like your jersey!”

She bounced on her toes and held the front of it out for him to see; he grabbed a stray puck off the ice, nearly fumbling it in his hurry.

“One second!” He held up one finger to make sure she understood before skating as fast as he could to the bench and snagging a silver pen from the collection, yanking his glove off with his teeth and signing his name. He didn’t have an official signature or anything—sloppy cursive would have to do. He tossed the pen toward his seat, not sparing any of his racing thoughts to wonder whether it landed.

The girl lit up when he returned, and her dark eyes grew huge when she saw the puck.

“For you!” he said as loud as he could, pointing to her. He gave her a clear count of three before tossing it over the boards; she caught it, almost dropped it, then hugged it close to her chest. Her whole face folded and tears began pouring down her cheeks. Remus’ heart plummeted.

His horror must have shown on his face, because the kid’s mother waved to get his attention and shook her head with a smile. She’s happy, she said. At least, Remus hoped he was reading her lips right. The little girl stepped back to the glass and shouted ‘thank you’ loud enough that he heard her through the glass.

“You’re welcome!” Remus yelled back, giving her a thumbs-up. He gestured toward the tunnel. “Come over after the game, okay?”

The kid looked to her mother, who smiled, then turned back to Remus and nodded enthusiastically. He high-fived her through the glass and headed back to the team, still grinning like an idiot.

“Head in the game, Loops!” Logan laughed.

“She’s got my jersey,” he said, running through his drills on muscle memory, lighter than air. “Tremzy, she had my jersey.”

“Who?”

He pointed to the gang of children; his fan was still near the front, clutching her puck. “Aw, Loops,” Logan cooed. “You’ve got a secret admirer.”

“She’s got my jersey,” he repeated.

Logan’s smile turned soft and he nudged him. “You’re part of the team, remember? Always have been, always will be.”

“Part of the team,” Remus muttered absentmindedly.

“Now come on, Lightning McQueen, we need you!” Logan smacked him on the helmet and took off, cackling. Remus rolled his eyes, though he didn’t lose the floaty feeling for the rest of warmups.

-------------------------------------

They won the game. Remus broke the land-speed record showering and all but sprinted to the mouth of the tunnel, sending a silent prayer up that the kid’s mom knew where to go. Come on, come on—

There.

She was still bouncing on her toes, though it looked more like she was searching for someone. The mother saw him first, and gently turned her around; Remus tried to stay calm and collected when she gasped loud enough that he heard it ten feet away.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said, crouching down to her level.

“Hi,” she squeaked.

“What’s your name?”

“This is Annie,” her mother informed him after a moment of silence.

“Nice to meet you, Annie. Nice jersey.” Her round cheeks flushed bright pink. “Did you know you’re the very first person I’ve seen wearing my number?”

She finally blinked. “Really?”

“Yep. It made my day.”

“You’re my favorite,” she blurted.

“Thanks,” he laughed. “Not a lot of people cheer for the rookies, so that means a lot.”

“You’re the fastest one on the team, and—and my mama says you’re really smart ‘cause you were on the bench an’ I know people were mean about you on the team but I don’t think that’s fair because you and Pots and Cap are the best line ever and yeah.” The flood of words left her a little breathless. “Yeah. Oh, and six is my lucky number.”

“Mine, too. Do you play hockey?”

“I want to. I think I’m too short.”

Remus felt his heart twist a little. “Annie, I was the shortest, scrawniest kid on my team until I was seventeen. You can do whatever you want to do. Don’t let anyone tell you different, okay?”

She stared at him for a long moment, then launched herself forward and threw her arms around his neck. “Annalise!” her mother gasped.

“It’s okay,” Remus assured her, holding down a laugh as he balanced himself to gently return her hug. “My little brother does this all the time.”

“You’ve gotta win the Cup this year,” Annie said—demanded, really—as she stepped back.

“I’ll do my best,” he promised. A mob of reporters hurried down the hallway toward the locker room, and he caught several staring at them as they passed. “Alright, I think that’s my cue to go.”

“What do you say?” Annie’s mother prompted quietly.

Annie smiled at him, brighter than sunshine. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for coming to the game, and drive safe.”

“We will.”

People liked him. They liked him, he was someone’s favorite. It was an astounding thought, and he only paid half-attention to the few interview questions that went his way. Some of the hashtags he had seen were awful—many people were calling favoritism, and the number of rude DMs seemed to increase every day—but the look of pure happiness on Annie’s face when he passed her a simple puck made them insignificant.

Who cared what assholes thought when he could make someone smile like that?

“What’s on your mind?” Sirius asked as they headed home, exhausted.

Remus shook his head, unable to keep his grin off his face. “She had my jersey.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #logan tremblay #thomas walker #james potter #my fic #fanfic #lumosinlove #sweater weather #oc #coops

[delimeful]

(dont) take this the wrong way (6)

warnings: misunderstandings, trauma responses, illness

-

Patton and Roman went in circles for a moment on who should carry Logan, eventually settling on Patton, since Roman was the quicker between the two of them and they were alarmingly unsure of what the small mer was planning— or how negatively that plan would affect the little guy.

Roman couldn’t help but be a little jealous anyways at the sight of the human pressing his tiny face against the palm of Patton’s hand, still mostly unconscious despite the jostling. It was unfairly adorable, and he never got to hang out with humans that weren’t terrified or fled at the sight of him.

Logan had started off scared too, sure, but after they’d cleared that little misunderstanding up, the human had shooed him away with an itty bitty stern look.

He’d listened, of course, he certainly owed these two that much, but internally he was gleeful at how bold Logan was when hanging out with them. Maybe he’d even come back and they’d learn more of his language and he could needle the nerd into telling him more about surface life—!

But of course, that required that he get better first.

It seemed obvious now, with the feverflush to his skin and the subtle tremor even as he slept, but the signs were so tiny on him, they might not have noticed for ages yet. He was inordinately grateful that the little mer had brought it to their attention, even if it also meant learning just how lowly the little guy thought of them.

When they returned from the air room, the tiny mer hadn’t twitched from his spot, though he looked as though he wanted to vibrate right out of his skin.

Agonizingly, he only seemed to get more stressed at the sight of Patton’s cupped hands, gaze darting between them for a moment before he flitted forwards and pressed an earfin to the makeshift airseal, staying in place only long enough to catch the sound of Logan’s little raspy breaths.

Roman opened his mouth, arms sliding up to gesture, and the tiny mer shot all the way back across the room like quicksilver. He had a moment to realize that with that speed, they’d never have ‘caught’ him in the first place if he hadn’t been trapped by that net, and then he felt immensely guilty for clearly spooking the little guy.

“How about you lead the way?” he asked, trying to distract their flighty little friend before he started tearing hair out. “The exit is one cave down, we’ll follow to wherever you think is the best place.”

He was shaking his head before Roman even finished. “No, I’ll follow, you— whoever stole him, you have to take him back to that beach. You remember... right?”

Roman turned to glance at Patton, who nodded firmly. “I’ll get us started then, kiddo.”

He cradled his cupped hands to his chest and swam deeper, easily twisting through the exit tunnel into the open ocean. Roman nodded at the little mer and followed, hoping that the little guy wouldn’t just vanish.

Only a moment later, he flitted out after them, and Roman caught the desperate longing that crossed his expression for a moment at the sight of wide open terrain. It vanished after a single glance at Patton’s cargo, replaced by a grim scowl.

If it weren’t for the human, Roman had the feeling that the mer would have turned and vanished, too quick and small for them to ever see again.

Instead, he hovered carefully out of lunging reach as they traveled, watching their every move with narrowed eyes. Every unconscious twitch of Patton’s hands seemed to make him flinch in response, as though he was expecting something horrible would happen to the human at any moment.

Normally, Roman would have been quite offended about this implied slight against Patton’s character, since his friend was just about the gentlest guy he knew. With circumstances what they were, however, he remained silent. He knew that this wasn’t really a reflection on Patton, but rather someone else entirely, a phantom presence that was still haunting the small mer.

Roman let out a breath of relief when they finally resurfaced, a human beach visible nearby. Patton unfolded his hands as soon as they were above water, and they both peered nervously down at the human.

“He doesn’t look like he’s gotten any worse,” Patton murmured, angling his hands so their small tagalong could see as well. “This is fairly close to the beach I found him at!”

“It seems the early hour has served us well,” Roman added, making sure not to gesture as he usually would. “There doesn’t appear to be anyone else around. Should we set him on the beach?”

The tiny mer jolted when he realized that they were both looking to him, flitting back and forth in nervous motions. “Uh, yeah— Yes. But be careful. And make sure you put him high enough that the tide can’t drag him back.” He continued in an undertone, “With his luck, it’ll be ages before another human appears.”

“I’ll do it!” Patton announced, already pushing forwards to shallower waters. “Roman’s likely to beach himself if he goes too far inland, and that’s shore to make things difficult!”

Roman groaned, flicking his fingertips at the siren. “That was one time! One-time incidents don’t qualify for pun-based bullying!”

Patton’s muffled laughter got quieter as he shifted to lay vertically, scooting forwards until his chest was scraping the sand and his arm could extend to set Logan gently against the beach incline. Logan’s head lolled to the side, but he seemed unlikely to go anywhere, and was in plain sight of anyone passing by.

Roman glanced down at the tiny mer, who was staring over the waves at the human, finally looking a little less stiff and stressed.

Patton wiggled back until he could tread water upright again, sharing a little cheer with Roman at a successful quest. Their guest’s tension returned immediately, that little shadowed gaze snapping back onto them.

Roman and Patton exchanged a glance, uncertain of how to proceed, but before anyone could speak, they heard a small, hacking cough.

Logan was awake, just a little too late for him or Patton to say goodbye. He probably wouldn’t have understood, but it would have been nice anyhow. Roman watched as he rolled to something resembling upright, his limbs trembling weakly. He was looking back and forth, not just noticing the new decor, but searching.

Roman glanced down to the small mer, who had set his shoulders and continued looking firmly away from the beach. He sunk a little lower in the water, trying to make eye contact. “Would you like to go and say goodbye before he leaves? Or, tell him what’s going on, perhaps?”

He shook his head once, sharply, and Roman felt a little pang of sympathy at the way his ear fins kept angling back at every noise the human made.

Logan was calling out now, the same word repeated at increasing levels of urgency. “Virgil?”

The mer still refused to glance back. “I’m not breaking the deal. You upheld your half, and you’re going to keep upholding it, and I’ll uphold mine. I’m not going anywhere.”

He’d drifted closer to Roman as he spoke, but it didn’t feel like any sort of progress. He’d tucked all those extra flares and frills away, smoothing himself down as though he was calm— or resigned.

Roman glanced up at the beach, where Logan still called. As he listened, that little voice cracked midword, desperation slowly turning to despair. He moved to cup his hand underneath the little mer, his heartstrings pulling at the way he let out a slow, shaky breath and closed his eyes, even as Roman lifted him up from the ocean entirely.

Patton opened his mouth as if to speak, but Roman met his eyes and shook his head, promising with his gaze alone that he knew what he was doing. His friend glanced down at the little guy worriedly, but held his tongue.

With one strong push, Roman slid up to the beach’s edge, grimacing slightly as the water became shallower and shallower. His arms were longer than Patton’s, though, and so he had little trouble reaching over and depositing his handful of seawater & tiny mermaid directly next to Logan.

“Virgil!” the human said, relieved, and he reached out to latch onto the mer, confirming Roman’s name suspicions.

‘Virgil’ had yelped like a baby seal upon being upended onto the beach, and he was now blinking between Roman and Logan with an air of extreme bewilderment.

“Virgil,” Logan said again, now in a very different tone. He wore a tiny, furious expression as he launched into what sounded like a somewhat-feverish lecture. He also reached over and pulled the mer into a hug, confirming Roman’s ‘he had no idea Virgil was going to pull this’ suspicions.

Roman was so right about so many things today. Everyone should listen to him all the time!

He wriggled back a little, intending to give them some privacy to talk, and made absolutely no progress. Uh oh. He glanced down at the others.

“I am just a little bit, slightly, somewhat, completely beached again,” he told them, his face growing hot. “I hope you two appreciate that I did this even though Patton is absolutely never going to let me live this down.”

“Need me to reel you back in, kiddo?” Patton called, right on cue. Roman sighed, planting his face in the crook of his elbow for a moment.

“Just a moment,” he called, and then met Virgil’s wide eyes from over Logan’s shoulder. “It seems like there’s still much for you both to discuss, my undersized acquaintances. We shouldn’t stay so close to land for long, but I imagine you’ll feel better if you keep him company until someone comes for him, right?”

Logan’s brief spark of energy seemed to be flagging, but every time Virgil attempted to disengage from the hug, he clung on tighter. After a brief moment of hesitation, Virgil conceded to the clinginess and simply nodded at Roman, still half-braced for something awful.

Roman gave him his most reassuring smile. “Then that’s what you’ll do. You know where to find me or Patton, if you need us!”

“Really?” Virgil asked, hands fisting in the back of Logan’s shirt. “You’ll let me-- you’ll leave us alone? Just like that?”

Roman nodded, lips twisted in sympathy. “Just like that.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, fins flattened against the sides of his head-- and then he took a deep breath, loosened his grip just slightly, and nodded back.

#dtttww #dont take this the wrong way #my writing #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #ts patton #sanders sides #g/t #mermaid au #might edit this one later its a little short

[eliemo]

Purple Skirt

Summary: Patton and Logan look amazing in their skirts, but Virgil knows he doesn’t get the same freedom when it comes to clothing. 

TWs: past abuse, past gaslighting, self esteem issues

Notes: Thank you to @self-taught-mess​ for giving me the idea to make the skirts angsty. Sympathetic everyone. Taglist at the end

Masterpost

The first time he’d been able to even look at a skirt without wanting to throw up was when Patton had come bouncing down the stairs, looking absolutely delighted in his new suspenders skirt, and Virgil had smiled along with him without even thinking about the memories. 

He was so happy and radiant and god Virgil wished he could do the same. The idea of wearing a skirt around the mindscape, never giving it a second thought, allowing himself to be comfortable and confident like Patton could be was...amazing. 

Logan had donned a skirt a couple weeks later, wearing it as casually as any other outfit, and he’d barely batted an eye when they had all jumped up to compliment him. 

They were all so...comfortable with it. And of course they were, they were allowed to be. They deserved to be. Everyone was, except Virgil. He knew that. 

Which is why he had no idea what had possessed him to start wearing a skirt in the privacy of his own room. 

It was a horrible idea, and his hands started shaking every time he shut his door and put on the dark purple skirt, but...but he liked it. He liked wearing skirts, and the light side’s outfits had reminded him of that. 

He’d tried to wear skirts a few years ago, but the Others had very quickly shut that down, drilling into his brain how selfish and horrible it was to even consider outfits like that an option. 

Anyone else could wear a skirt. Anyone else could wear whatever they wanted. But Virgil didn’t have that right. Virgil was disgusting and useless, and he didn’t deserve that comfort. 

Besides, they looked horrible on him. He didn’t need to look any more pathetic than he already was. He’d been mocked and beaten and screamed at for forcing other people to see him like that, for thinking for a second that it had been remotely acceptable. They’d made themselves very clear, and they hadn’t stopped until Virgil had understood. Anxiety didn’t get to wear skirts. 

Now...now he knew he wouldn’t be beaten if he was caught in a skirt. He knew by now not to assume his family would hurt him, especially not over something so small. 

But he’d still be told off. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be wearing something like this, knew it was disgusting of him to even try. Patton and Logan looked amazing but Virgil was...well, Virgil. 

Still, after seeing Logan and Patton’s skirts he hadn’t been able to help himself. He was careful about it, only changing once a week at most with his door locked, always when he was sure he’d have time to himself where no one would come looking. 

The first few times, he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, taunts, hate, and repulsion echoing in his head every second the skirt was on. He hadn’t been able to keep it on for more than five minutes. 

But recently, he’d started to feel a bit more comfortable. He knew it wasn’t ok, knew better than to risk letting anyone see him, but...with no one around to tell him how disgusting he looked, he allowed himself a few glances in the mirror, and let himself keep it on for longer. 

It was comforting, freeing, and...maybe if it was anyone else, it might actually look good. 

He should have known better than to drop his guard like that.

Virgil had put his skirt on about half an hour ago, closing himself off in his room until dinner, his usual ripped jeans laid out for him to quickly slip on before heading back downstairs. 

He’d gotten too comfortable- too relaxed, lounging on his bed with his music playing and his eyes slipped shut and his head went foggy, losing track of time completely.  

“You in there, Hot Topic?” Roman’s call and gentle knocking didn’t startle Virgil like it usually would, and he groggily lifted his head from the pillow, slipping off his headphones. “Can I come in?” 

Virgil rubbed sleep from his eyes, pushed himself up on the bed, and waved a hand to unlock his door without a second thought. 

He then immediately realized his mistake as soon as the handle started to turn. Shit shit shit--

He scrambled off the bed, suddenly wide awake as his feet hit the carpeted floor, but he didn’t have a chance to get anywhere to hide before Roman was standing in the doorway, eyes going wide. 

For a split second, Virgil let himself be overtaken by dangerous, desperate hope. The light sides had pleasantly surprised him so many times already- it was ok for him to make mistakes, it was fine if he dropped something or made a loud noise or talked too much- so maybe...maybe this was ok too? 

But then Roman opened his mouth, and old instinct and far too familiar fear took over. 

“Sorry,” Virgil blurted as he shrank back, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn’t...s-sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

“Wait, what?” Roman stepped closer, and Virgil internally cursed himself for flinching. This wasn’t like last time, this wasn’t like last time. “Virgil. Why’re you sorry?” 

He shrugged, suddenly hyper aware of the way the plaid skirt hugged his waist, draping just above the knee to show off the black and white striped stockings. He found himself absently tugging at the end of the material. 

“I...I’m not--” he cut himself off when his voice grew unsteady, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “I’m not supposed to, but I- I wasn’t going to leave the room. I know I- that I can’t--” 

“Oh, Virgil of course you can.” Roman’s voice was soft, always so genuine, and this time Virgil didn’t flinch back when the Prince took another step. “You look amazing.”

Virgil’s shoulders hunched on instinct, and he scrambled to figure out if that was sarcasm in the Prince’s tone, because he’d been expecting something far more hurtful. 

“I...you don’t have to, I was just- it was stupid. I- I forgot I was wearing it, I’m sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Roman said, but his smile suddenly dropped. “Oh, Stormcloud you’re shaking.” 

Oh. Virgil hadn’t even realized how bad he’d started trembling, too scared to meet Roman’s eyes despite them radiating nothing but kindness. 

“Hey.” The Prince held out his hands, and Virgil risked a cautious glance up from the floor. “Come here?” 

Virgil let his shoulders drop, but his defenses were still raised, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, always expecting some kind of trap or trick. He still couldn’t help it. 

But he let himself close the distance between them and fall into Roman’s chest, letting out a shuddering breath as strong arms wrapped around him, gentle but secure. 

“You can wear a skirt, Virgil,” Roman said. “Did you...think I would be angry with you?” 

Virgil couldn’t bring himself to speak again just yet. All he was able to manage was a small nod against Roman’s chest. 

“Why?” he asked, voice still soft but Virgil thought there was a hint of something defensive. “I wear skirts all the time. So does Remus. And Patton and Logan have--” 

“I know.” Virgil took another small, trembling breath. “And you- you all look great. Obviously. Everyone can- everyone can wear whatever, I’m not...I just...can’t.” 

Roman pulled back slightly, but Virgil couldn’t meet his gaze. “Why not?” 

“Because I’m...I’m gross, and I shouldn’t...I can’t. Not like you guys, it’s not...it’s not allowed. It’s...probably bad for my influence over Thomas or something.. Plus I, uh- I look horrible in most things anyway, so…”

He trailed off, and his heart sank when he caught a glimpse of the look on Roman’s face. He was watching Virgil intently, head tilted slightly, eyes filled with something sad and...and angry. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” Shit, he’d been talking too long hadn’t he? He was being annoying and he was still making Roman see him like this and he probably just wanted Virgil to shut up already. “I didn’t mean to ramble, I’m sorry, I’ll change and then--” 

“I’m not upset with you,” Roman said, and Virgil quickly fell silent. “This is...just one more thing they took away from you, isn’t it?” 

Virgil shrugged, back to wrapping his arms around himself like a useless shield. He felt tears spring to the corners of his eyes, face burning hot, and he quickly blinked them away. 

“I guess,” he muttered. “They didn’t really want me to...like myself. It’s still...hard, you know? To get their voices out of my head.” 

He tried not to think about it. He tried to block out the vicious, horrible things that had been said to him every time they’d raised a fist, their words just as powerful as a punch. 

They’d hurt him so bad, and they’d worked so hard to make him hate himself as much as they hated him. 

He wasn’t going to roll over and accept that. Not anymore. He’d get better now that he had people who loved him by his side. It just...god, it was so hard sometimes.  

“I know,” Roman said, and Virgil didn’t think he’d ever heard the Prince sound so grim. “Trust me, Virgil. I know.” 

Virgil didn’t doubt that. He dug his foot into the carpet, doing what he could to remind himself that Roman wasn't upset. The prince wasn’t disgusted by him, he didn’t think he was pathetic, and he wasn’t angry that Virgil was making him look at Anxiety longer than necessary. 

“Yeah, well. Self esteem is overrated.” 

Roman laughed, but he was still staring at Virgil with something sorrowful and uncertain. “Maybe. But if it helps, I think you look absolutely stunning.” 

“What?” Virgil scoffed, even as he was sure his face was bright red by now. “N-no, I...I don’t. Look, I can just change--” 

“Virgil, have you even looked in the mirror?” Roman asked, and Virgil tried not to flinch because those words had been said to him before, just under very different circumstances. 

But Roman was suddenly taking his hands, dragging him (gently, of course) into Virgil’s bathroom, standing in front of the sink and looking in the mirror. It was something he tried to avoid as much as possible, but with the way Princey was beaming at him...for the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to be so apprehensive. 

“How long have you had this?” Roman asked, and at Virgil’s blank stare he quickly gestured to the outfit- an older black hoodie over a white shirt, black and white stockings, and the plaid purple skirt. 

“Uh...I don’t know, it’s just some clothes. The skirt is kinda new, though. I had to make a new one after my old one was…” destroyed, was really the only accurate way to put it. And they hadn’t even waited for him to take it off. Somehow he really doubted that would make Roman feel any better. “Lost. It’s...it’s pretty stupid, I know.” 

“Not at all,” Princey said, and Virgil didn’t know why he couldn’t just give in and believe him. “Just look! You’re beautiful!” 

He seemed so excited, eyes brimming with awe and eagerness, Virgil couldn’t bring himself to protest. Even when he was struck with the familiar urge to avert his gaze as soon as he came face to face with his own reflection. 

It was just...him. Nothing special, nothing particularly good, just plain, dark and brooding Anxiety. But he’d been taught, over and over and over again, to hate every little thing about himself. Just like everyone else already did. 

But that had been a lie, just like nearly everything else he’d been told. The people who mattered didn’t hate him, and they did much more than tolerate his presence. 

He just...didn’t know where to start when it came to liking anything about himself. 

Luckily, Roman already seemed to be two steps ahead of him. 

“You are not disgusting,” he said, completely catching Virgil off guard. “And I swear, if I could I would run my sword through every single person who ever put that thought in your head.” 

“Please don’t.” It came out a whisper, soft and pathetic. They’d had this talk before, countless times, but each time it sent terror shooting through his chest. “Please--” 

“I know. As much as I want to make them suffer...I would never betray your trust by doing something so selfish. It will always be up to you whether or not I go after them.” 

Virgil’s shoulders dropped, relief just as dizzying as the last few times. “Thank you.” 

“But I mean it,” Roman said. “They were so, so wrong. We think you’re wonderful, Virgil. We...we all think you’re amazing. I know you don’t see it, but- but we do. And every day you shine just a little bit brighter.” 

“Princey--” 

“Did you know Patton couldn’t stop crying that first night we found out about what happened to you? He kept it together right until you fell asleep and then he...Logan held him until he exhausted himself. And Lo was...we were all so angry.” 

Virgil couldn’t turn around, instead staring at Roman’s reflection through the mirror. “I...I’m--” 

“This isn’t a guilt thing,” Roman clarified. “I’m saying we didn’t understand. We still don’t. How someone could look at you and not see someone incredible. You’ve been through so much and we’re...I’m honored to get to meet the person you always deserved to be.” 

And, yeah Virgil was definitely going to cry now, fresh tears just replacing the ones he wiped away. But maybe that was ok, because Roman’s eyes were red and watery now too. 

“Back to the point,” Roman said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can wear what you want. Always. My only request is that you don’t outshine me.” 

Virgil snorted, even as uncertainty and apprehension still rested heavy on his chest. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Princey.” 

“Well, I stand by what I said,” Roman announced, clapping his hands together. “You look stunning. And I’m sure the others will agree. Patton will be thrilled to have another skirt-buddy. Why don’t we head down so you can--” 

“No!” 

Roman had already started for the bathroom door, stopping in his tracks and spinning back around at Virgil’s outburst. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but…

But the terror that had hit when Roman had caught him just moments before, the disgust with himself that had just been starting to dissipate a bit...all of it hit full force again at the thought of going downstairs like this. 

He wanted to. He wanted to know he could be comfortable and learn to feel ok again so bad. But he couldn’t. There was no way. 

“Virge--” 

“I can’t.” And now he was going to upset Roman, after the Prince had tried so hard to get Virgil to stop being such a coward. And now he probably was going to be angry- or disappointed at the very least. Virgil wasn’t sure which one was worse. “I’m sorry, sorry it’s just--” 

“Hey, it’s ok,” Roman said, with way more patience than Virgil deserved at this point. “I’m not going to force you out of your comfort zone, Emo. Prince’s honor. We go at your pace, and your pace only.” 

 Virgil stuffed his hands into the hoodie pockets, fighting the urge to pull up his hood. “You’re not, like...mad?” 

“I’m not mad, Virgil,” Roman assured, and smiled. “Take your time. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.” 

“Ok.” Virgil let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shaky and small, and once again he wondered what he’d done to deserve this much kindness. “Ok. I’m uh, I’m gonna change. I’ll be down for dinner soon.” 

There was no annoyance, no frustration or exasperated eyeroll. Just a nod from Roman and another gentle, understanding smile as the Prince slipped through the door and left him alone again. 

For a moment, standing in his silent bedroom with his black jeans in his hands, Virgil considered keeping the skirt on. 

He wasn’t...he wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t the selfish, horrible, grotesque villain he’d been taught to think he was. 

He had the right to say, do, and wear whatever he wanted. He was just as free to exist and express himself as anyone else in the mindscape. 

It was what his family told him, over and over and over again. And it was what he was trying desperately to begin to believe. 

But he was almost positive that if he tried to step outside right now he’d have a panic attack before he reached the bottom of the stairs. So he took another deep breath, steadied himself, and changed back into his regular jeans and oversized hoodie. 

He wasn’t going to suddenly lose the right to recover if he took his time. There wasn’t a time limit to all of this. And like Roman had said, they’d be there when he was ready.

-- 

It was another few weeks before Roman heard a knock on his door, timid and familiar enough for him to know it was Virgil before he pulled it open with a smile. 

The anxious side was standing in the hall, arms wrapped around his middle as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, shoulders hunched in a defensive stand and...oh. 

He was wearing the outfit Roman hadn’t gotten the chance to see since their talk in his room, complete with the plaid purple skirt that the Prince thought looked absolutely perfect on Virgil. 

“Good afternoon,” Roman said, fighting to sound as nonchalant as possible, all too aware of how big of a deal this was. “You heading downstairs?” 

Virgil took a minute before nodding slowly, chewing incessantly on his lip, still fidgeting in the doorway. 

“Alright,” Roman said, hoping it was at least a little encouraging. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 

He could see Virgil trying to compose himself, recognized the slow, deliberate breaths he was taking in an effort to fight against rising panic, and Roman’s heart throbbed at the watery, scared look in his eyes. 

“Could you…” Virgil trailed off, squeezing his hands into fists. “Could you come with me? Please?” 

Roman softened, and stepped into the hallway. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t until he held out a hand, letting Virgil latch onto him and squeeze as tight as he needed, that he realized just how bad the anxious side was shaking. Just like the first time Roman had seen him in the skirt. 

As nice as it looked, it was a fairly simple outfit. Roman had worn far more extravagant things, and other than excited compliments from Patton, no one really looked twice. 

He couldn’t imagine what the others had done to make Virgil so afraid of being seen in a skirt. 

But this wasn’t the time for that. Roman forcefully pushed his anger back down, and squeezed Virgil’s hand in response. He didn’t stop trembling the entire trip down the hall. 

When they reached the top of the stairs, Patton and Logan’s voices began to filter in from the living room, and Virgil suddenly stopped, breath catching in his throat, looking to Roman with wide, panicked eyes. 

“What...what if they--” 

“Nothing bad will happen to you,” Roman said. “I swear it. But we don’t have to do this today if you aren’t ready. Like I said, we go at your pace.” 

Virgil’s eyes were glued to the stairs, tense and unmoving, clutching Roman’s hand like he thought it would be ripped away at any moment. 

Roman was fully willing to stand here for hours if it meant Virgil would be comfortable, but it only took a few minutes for his breathing to even out slightly, some of the tension in his shoulders coming undone. 

“Ok,” he said softly, probably more to himself than to Roman. “Ok. I’m...I’m good. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry,” Roman promised. “Your pace, Virge. I’m here.” 

They made their way down the steps together, slow and steady, Roman letting Virgil move as fast as he wanted, stopping to take a few seconds to breathe whenever he needed. 

Logan and Patton were lounged on the couch by the time they made it to the living room, the logical side lost to the contents of the open book on his lap. 

Virgil suddenly froze in the doorway, looking up at Roman like he thought the Prince was the only thing standing in between him and certain death. 

And then Patton glanced up at the movement, and Roman couldn’t remember the last time the moral side had smiled so wide. 

“Oh my gosh! Virgil, you look so good!” 

Virgil automatically flinched against Roman’s side as Patton jumped up from the couch, but Roman could see surprise battling with doubt and confusion as he took in Patton’s happiness. 

“I...yeah?” 

And in the middle of it all, a small flicker of hope. 

“Yes!” Patton practically squealed. He rushed over to take Virgil’s hands, and Roman stepped away with one last reassuring smile. “I didn’t know you liked skirts, kiddo! You should have told me!” 

Virgil was searching Patton’s face, probably making sure there wasn’t any hint of hidden disgust in his words, before relaxing ever so slightly. “Yeah, I...wanted to try it, I guess.” 

“You look so pretty!” Patton was bouncing up and down now, Virgil’s hands still in his. “Don’t you think so, Logan?” 

Roman glanced at the logical side still seated on the couch, unsurprised to find a look of pride and quiet understanding.

“He does,” Logan agreed. “The outfit itself is aesthetically pleasing, and the colors suit you very well, Virgil. I am glad you were comfortable enough to try something new.” 

Virgil shrugged, cheeks turning a light shade of red, briefly meeting Roman’s eyes with a small, thankful smile. “It’s...it’s whatever.” 

“We should have a skirt day!” Patton announced suddenly. “Can we have a skirt day?” 

Logan raised an eyebrow. “A...skirt day?” 

“We can all wear our skirts together! Do you think we could get Janus and Remus to join us?” 

Roman chuckled, beyond relieved for the small smile now beginning to overtake Virgil’s features. “I’m sure you could, padre.” 

“Patton, it is simply an article of clothing,” Logan pointed out, completely lost. “Why do we need an entire day dedicated to wearing it?” 

“Because! It’s--” 

Patton was suddenly interrupted by Virgil suddenly wrapping his arms around the moral side, pulling him close in a tight, almost desperate embrace. 

Virgil so rarely was the one to initiate physical contact, as much as he needed it, always terrified of being seen as needy or ungrateful. From what Roman had gathered, Virgil had been told he was too disgusting to be touched in any way other than violent. 

“Oh, kiddo.” Despite his obvious surprise, Patton didn’t hesitate before hugging back. “Can you tell me what’s wrong, honey? Did I upset you?” 

Virgil shook his head, still clutching Patton’s shirt as he pulled back. Roman wanted so badly to rush over and hold him close when he realized Virgil was smiling through his tears, so clearly overwhelmed but so so relieved. 

“No- no, it’s-” he took in a shuddering breath, struggling to get a hold of himself. “I’m...thank you. I just- I love you all so much.” 

And then he was covering his mouth with his hand, crying quietly as Patton gathered him back into his arms, squeezing his eyes shut but relaxing further when the other two sides hurried to join the embrace. 

Roman couldn’t even imagine the weight that had just been lifted from Virgil’s shoulders, how rewarding acceptance without question must have felt. Especially when for him, every step forward was like climbing a mountain. 

He caught Logan sending him a questioning look, but he quickly shook his head. Later. They could talk it out later. Right now…

Right now Virgil just needed the reassurance. And Roman knew they were all more than happy to remind him they would never get tired of giving it to him. 

Taglist: @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @mygenderisidiot @a-very-gay-raccoon @dawnfire7 @cr4zyart @ray-does-stuff @whydoifeeltheneedtoorganizestuff @bunny222  @the-blue-recluse @bisexualdisaster106 @basilthefourth @snowtrashowl @thefingergunsgirl @trashtm @stubbornness-and-spite @kieraelieson @alias290 @darkch1ld @craz-ewaters @damy-02 @frogdog145 @gattonero17 @madamedraconis @stoicpanther @@love-to-read02 @that-spider-fan-over-there @thatoneloudowl @rich-flower-17 @demigodbookdragon @i-gobymanynames @wyvern-tales @spoopyseason66 @gaylotusthatexists @my-life-is-an-artistic-mess @that-one-fander @alias290 @yalltookmyurlideas @theantisocialghost @dark-strange-daughter @joylessnightsky @nova-galexa @luckymasie @stayarmy321 @starsinger @unhygienic-andy-the-anon @deathdarknessdevils @d-rizzle83 @spoonfullofcrofters @sarcasmremovedsoul @bananabread123443 @alpacadraws @nonbinaryemonugget @espepspes @awesome-and-unique-username @starshinemoonglow @honeybonesvirgil @fandertrash24 @tracingstarlight @sanders-fanders @heartwitchhouse @major-disaster-enby @a-poor-anxious-baby @franticfandomfanatic @the3rdpansexualpanda @a-flying-gay @hermitcreature @darkle-elkrad @coaltail121 @i-really-like-dragons @blagi @the-daydreamers-rebellion

#sanders sides #past abuse tw #violence mention tw #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #sides in skirts #prinxiety #moxiety #analogical #platonic lamp #fanfiction #writing #sympathetic light sides

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Dragons Can Be Nice

Prompts: Hello, first off I adore your writing, your stories are among my favorites for this fandom. I have a prompt (but you can feel free to ignore). Can you write some hurt/comfort for character!Thomas? Maybe with him getting stuck/hurt in the Imagination? - anon

Okay I’m not sure about the context but I saw an ask you answered about “what are the dragons names” or something, and I got a flashbulb image of the sides finding a bunch of baby dragons. Just a lot of fluff and baby dragons. Big happy dlampr (platonic/romantic/weird grey area) with a bunch of baby dragons. Janus bleping at the baby dragons. If in canonverse, the imagination is overrun with baby dragons and c!t has some dreams featuring baby dragons. Just. Baby dragons. - anon

*pokes head out* did someone say dragon fluff?

Read on Ao3

Warnings: mild supernatural horror, like really really mild

Pairings: this is platonic all the way down, babes

Word Count: 4481

In a lot of stories, dragons are mean. They kidnap princesses, they hoard gold, they kill knights, they destroy towns. They are evil and scary and not at all what you'd like to run into on a dark night, on your own, far away from help. Witches are very much the same. Dragon witches, then, must be the worst.

But maybe there can be nice dragons, too.

When Thomas was little, he used to spend much more time in the Imagination. Which was good! He likes seeing the things that Roman makes, Roman is really good at his job. His favorite is the big forest because the trees are so tall they look like they go on forever. Logan says they don’t and Logan is really smart but sometimes it looks that way. Roman likes leading Thomas around the forest on their adventures because then they’ll always run into the others too!

Virgil likes sitting near the caves because it’s quieter there and he can play with the rocks. Sometimes he’ll find Virgil near the river. The river wears the rocks nice and smooth and they look so shiny when they come out of the water. Sometimes if it’s really hot he can get Virgil to throw him in the water. Apparently, kids are supposed to like being thrown at things? Logan had some explanation for it but Thomas doesn’t remember.

Janus also likes being in the caves. Janus is…scary sometimes. Thomas has to think really hard when he’s around Janus. And not like how Logan is really smart and makes Thomas smarter by talking and teaching him, but Janus is…tricky. He likes Janus, but sometimes Janus makes his head hurt. He has this smile that he does that makes Thomas feel really small. Patton says Janus cares about him and he wants to believe Patton but sometimes it feels weird. He did tell Janus that one time when he accidentally got lost and started crying when he didn’t know where to go. Janus found him and smiled that smile and it made him cry more so he stopped. He was really nice when Thomas explained that he was lost and scared and cuddled him until Roman came to find him. Janus is a lot nicer after that.

Logan doesn’t always come on their adventures. Roman says that’s ‘cause Logan is boring but that’s not true! (Thomas is pretty sure Roman doesn’t actually think that Logan is boring, he just likes to say it because it makes Logan tease him back.) Logan is really cool, he knows so many things and he’s really good at what he does. When he comes on their adventures, he likes to be the royal advisor. He says that’s the person that tells the prince what to do. Or sometimes he likes to come along to observe the plants. He does experiments in his room that he doesn’t let Thomas see all the time because it’s dangerous. But he does let Thomas help! That’s always nice.

Patton stays home when they adventure most of the time unless they’re going on a picnic. Picnics days are the best days because Roman always makes sure the weather is really nice. Well, except that one time where there was a really far away thunderstorm. Logan said it was because the forest needed a drink which is fair, but the sky had turned purple and it was a bit colder. But then the sunflowers had come out and it was really pretty. But when they’re not on picnics, Patton makes dinner for them so it’s ready when they come back.

Roman has a brother! He does other things in the Imagination, Thomas doesn’t really know what. His name is Remus, and sometimes he comes to play the bad guy when Roman has an adventure. Watching them fight is really cool and it’s Thomas’s job to sneak around while Roman distracts Remus so they can trap him! Remus isn’t really a bad guy, he just likes to mess with his brother sometimes. Thomas gets it. Remus is really good at making sure Thomas is okay, even when he’s being the bad guy. Even when Thomas gets captured he’s really nice. One time he scooped Thomas up when Roman was playing prince with the villagers and carried him away to be ‘kidnapped’ except they just ate ice cream until they got stomach aches. Patton wasn’t very happy that they ruined their dinner appetites but Remus said they just filled up their dessert bellies first so it was fine.

Thomas likes going into the Imagination but he’s always supposed to be with someone. It’s normally Roman, sometimes it’s Logan, sometimes it’s Remus. They’re normally free the most and know the Imagination the best. But sometimes none of them are free and he can’t find anyone else. So he…sneaks in.

It’s fine! He doesn’t go far! He just…sometimes he wants to say hi to the villagers. They’re really nice too and they don’t tell on him when he sneaks in and he’s not supposed to be there. One time he got an entire loaf of bread all to himself and ate it in four big bites.

So he goes in the big red door and just starts walking. He knows where he’s going to get to the pond and he’s not going far. It’s just over the hill. So he walks over the hill. The grass is so green and tall here. He gets to the top of the hill and looks down.

That’s weird. The pond isn’t here.

He shrugs and starts down toward the tall grove of trees. It’s probably just inside the forest and he forgot. The trees are still really tall. So tall he can barely tell which one is the top of which trunk. He pats the trunks as he walks past, saying hello to each tree. When the trees start to grow closer together, he stops patting them, using his hands to push his way around them.

It’s getting darker. Logan says that’s because when the trees grow close together, their leaves form a layer called the canopy, which blocks out a lot of light. Thomas keeps going, frowning as it starts to get colder. Maybe he should’ve brought a jacket.

It’s really dark. Thomas is starting to wish he’d maybe not gone into the forest. Maybe he should’ve just sat on the hill where he could still see the door. But the pond can’t be that much further, he can get there. And then he won’t be scared.

Not that he’s scared!

It’s really cold too. Maybe he should’ve brought a coat. He shivers as he pushes his way around another tree. It’s getting so dark he can’t see very far in front of his face. He almost walks into a tree.

…okay, maybe he should turn around and go back.

He turns around.

And around.

And around.

The trees all look the same.

Which way did he come from?

He…he doesn’t know.

Wait, which way was he going?

Thomas spins in the darkness of the trees, searching for something to tell him where he’s supposed to go.

Something snaps.

He freezes, eyes darting around. He can’t see anything.

The forest is silent. Not even the wind makes a noise. His breathing starts to pick up.

Leaves rustle to his left. His head jerks around, straining to see. There’s nothing but the still trunks, nothing but the quiet shifting sound of twigs.

M-maybe if he just picks somewhere to go, eventually he’ll make it out of the forest. And then he can get someone to help him figure out where to go. It’s gonna be fine. He has a plan, he knows what he’s going to do.

The second he takes a step forward, something cracks loudly in the trees.

Roman said that there were big animals in the forest. Remus said there were monsters in the forest. Logan said there was no such thing as monsters.

But Logan isn’t here.

Thomas turns around and starts walking the other way. He’s not going to go toward the big sound. He’s going to go this way instead because that’s his decision, not anyone else’s. And that’s what he wants to do.

The cracking behind him gets louder.

Roman said there was something that he fights that Thomas isn’t allowed to help him fight. It’s too dangerous. It’s big.

The thing behind him sounds big.

Thomas starts walking faster.

Roman said that it wasn’t something Thomas had to worry about.

Another twig snaps and it sounds closer.

Thomas starts running.

Remus said that it was really big. Bigger than the castle Roman built. Remus said it was really scary. That it had sharp claws and big teeth and—and—

Thomas runs around the trees as the snapping and crackling get closer and closer. His chest hurts from breathing so heavily. But he can’t stop. It’s getting closer.

He wants Roman. He wants Remus. He wants someone.

Please, someone, come help.

Behind him, he hears a snarl.

“The Dragon Witch,” Remus says softly, as they wait for Roman to come rescue Thomas, “she’s nasty. Like…nastier than me nasty.”

“But you’re not nasty, Remus, not really.”

“You’re sweet, you little sewer rat, but I mean it. She’s really not nice.” Remus looks at him and Thomas scoots backward. Remus doesn’t have his pretend bad guy face on, he looks really serious. “If you ever think she might be close to you, run. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

Thomas runs.

He runs faster and harder than he ever has in his life and behind him, he thinks he can hear the slither of scales and the scrape of claws as it chases after him. He thinks he can smell the smoke curling out of its nostrils as it finds him in the forest. He thinks he can feel the hot breath of a drooling mouth on his back.

He runs.

He trips.

He falls.

No, no! No, no, no, he has to run, he has to go—he has to get out of here, the—the Dragon Witch is going to get him, he doesn’t want the Dragon Witch to get him, he—oh, why didn’t he just stay out of the Imagination?

And why did they have to watch Sleeping Beauty for movie night?

The memory of Maleficent as the giant dragon on the cliff, breathing fire at Prince Phillip as he tried to fight it off fills his head and Thomas whimpers, curling into a tight ball and pressing himself against a boulder. If he’s really quiet, maybe—maybe it won’t find him.

Fear grips his chest and he curls tighter, maybe that will keep it inside. The rock starts to hurt where it presses against his skin. It’s cold.

He thinks he can hear the Dragon Witch getting closer.

Don’t find me, don’t find me, please don’t find me.

“Thomas? Thomas, where are you?”

Thomas’s breath catches in his throat. Is that—is that Roman?

“Thomas?” It is Roman! “Thomas, it’s dark out, I need you to help me find you, where are you?”

“R-Roman?”

“Thomas!”

In a blur of red and white, Thomas sees Roman rushing out of the trees, looking frantically around for him. He stands shakily, crying out as he leans against the boulder.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Roman pants, smiling as he hurries over to him, “you’re alright, good, come here—“

“I’m—I’m sorry, Roman, I—“

“Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart, you’re okay, that’s what’s important,” Roman coos as he scoops Thomas into his arms, “come on, let’s get you back home.”

And now that Roman is here and he’s carrying Thomas there’s no way the Dragon Witch could be here. Because Roman is here and Roman will keep him safe. The fear in his chest suddenly makes him really cold. He buries his face in the crook of Roman’s neck and holds on tight, stammering out another apology as he starts to cry.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he hushes, “you’re safe now, I’ve got you. Come on, we’re almost there, the others are worried.”

He feels bad, he didn’t want to make everyone worried.

“None of that,” comes the gentle chide, “we’re always going to worry about you, you’re our Thomas. Let’s get you back safe and we’ll get you something to eat, hmm?”

“O-okay.”

He hooks his chin over Roman’s shoulder and holds on, letting the soft swaying of Roman’s walk soothe some of his fear away. Sooner than he expected, he feels the air change from the chill of the Imagination to the warmth of the apartment.

“Thank goodness, you found him.”

“Is he alright? Is he hurt?”

“Guys, be quiet, he’s tired.”

Thomas cracks an eye open and accidentally makes eye contact with Janus. He flinches away and cuddles closer to Roman.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Roman soothes, “you’re safe now.”

“He’s hurt,” Logan says softly, somewhere out of sight, “Remus, can you go get the first aid kit?”

“On it.”

“Patton, I don’t believe Thomas has eaten recently, you and Virgil—“

“We’re going.”

“We’ve got some pasta left.”

“Thomas?” Logan lays a warm hand on his back. “Can you hear me?”

Thomas nods, his cheek rubbing against the trim on Roman’s shoulder.

“Roman has to go close the door to the Imagination and I’m going to take a look at your ankle. He’s going to have to put you down, alright?”

“Janus,” Roman murmurs, “here—“

“I’ll take him.”

Thomas isn’t proud of the way he clings onto Roman tightly when he tries to set him down.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s just Janus.”

He bites his lip as Roman eases him into Janus’s arms, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t,” comes the quiet voice, as a gloved hand pats his cheek, “you’ll hurt yourself, sweetie.”

Thomas opens his eyes and Janus lifts his chin, smiling softly when he sees Thomas’s eyes are wet with tears.

“Hello, sweetie,” he murmurs, cupping his cheek and pulling him closer on his lap, “just sit with me for a moment, hmm? Logan’s going to have a look at you and then we’ll get you something to eat.”

“A-are you mad?”

Janus tilts his head. “Should we be mad?”

“I’m—I’m sorry—“

“I didn’t ask that,” he corrects softly, his hand still gentle on Thomas’s face, “I asked if we should be mad.”

Thomas gulps. “I…I went into the Imagination when I wasn’t supposed to. I did something you told me not to do.”

“You did.”

“I…I messed up.”

“You did,” he repeats, softer this time, “and then what happened?”

“I—I got lost and it was dark and it got really cold and I thought something was chasing me so I—I ran away and then I fell and it—it hurt and I—I—I’m sorry—“

“You’re scaring him, Janus,” Logan interrupts, sitting down on the other end of the couch.

“Hush, sweetie,” Janus murmurs, pressing a kiss to Thomas’s forehead and pulling him close for a cuddle, “let Logan look at your ankle.”

Logan’s warm hands are practiced as they check his leg. It hurts a little but he can still move it fine. He can’t stop looking warily at Janus, though.

“He’s not going to calm down until you tell him we aren’t mad,” Logan says patiently, wrapping an ice pack around his ankle.

“W-what?”

Janus kisses his forehead again. “No, sweetie, we’re not mad,” he says softly, “it’s true, you shouldn’t have gone in there alone, but you know that and nothing extremely bad happened.”

Thomas gulps.

Janus frowns, pulling back a little. “Thomas? Did something happen?”

“Janus, don’t scare him.”

Janus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I’m not mad, Thomas. But you should tell us what happened.”

“There,” Logan says, patting Thomas’s knee, “all better. I’m going to go put the first aid kit away, I’ll be back.”

He passes Roman on the way out. Roman smiles and comes over to crouch down next to the couch, ruffling Thomas’s hair.

“Better?”

“Mhm.”

“Then why do you still look like someone told you Disney is never making another movie?”

Thomas shifts in Janus’s arms. “I…I thought the Dragon Witch was chasing me.”

Roman inhales sharply. “The Dragon Witch?”

Thomas nods, tears brimming at the corners of his eyes again, only for Janus to pull him into a proper hug, tucking his face into the softest part of his shoulder and rubbing his back firmly.

“Shh, shh, sweetie,” he whispers, “you’re safe, it’s alright, I’m sorry, that must’ve been so scary.”

Thomas clings onto Janus and cries. Roman’s hand lands in his hair after a moment, stroking gently through the strands and scratching lightly at his scalp.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he hears, “you’re safe, you’re safe, you’re alright, we’ve got you now.”

“Was--was the Dragon With re—really after me?”

“No, sweetheart, you know I’d never let that happen to you. She’s far away, far, far away, near where Remus’s side of the Imagination is. There’s no way she would be able to get to you, sweetheart, never in a million years. We’ll keep you safe, you know we will.”

“P-promise?”

“I promise.”

Thomas holds tightly to Janus’s cloak as he turns back around to look at Roman. Roman smiles and ruffles his hair again.

“You still look afraid, sweetie,” Janus says quietly, “is there something else?”

“I jus’—the—dragons are scary,” Thomas mumbles, twisting the hem of his shirt in his hands. “I don’t…don’t wanna have nightmares.”

Roman makes a soft noise of understanding. “Dragons don’t all have to be scary,” he says softly, “there can be plenty of nice dragons too.”

“Really?”

“Sure.” He turns to see Logan coming back in. “Logan, there can be nice dragons too, right?”

Logan blinks. “Yes, theoretically, there can be both nice dragons and dragons that aren’t nice. Why do you ask?”

His gaze lands on Thomas and his face softens. Logan’s really smart.

“Ah, I see.” He comes back to sit on the couch. “Most dragon young are quite nice.”

“They are?”

“In most versions of dragon mythology,” Logan says softly, “dragons are born from eggs like most reptiles are. The mother lays her eggs in her nest, often in a cave or somewhere else dark and safe, and guards them until they hatch.”

He cups his hands together in front of him.

“Most of the pups are about this big when they’re first born and their scales still haven’t hardened yet. The scales harden after about a week, once the dragons’ body has finished solidifying.”

“Solid—what?”

“Solidifying. An egg is only so big, little one, fitting an entire dragon pup inside one is no small feat. Do you remember trying to stuff all the LEGOs back into the bag they came out of?”

“And missing like…four,” Roman huffs, “yes, Logan, we remember.”

“If the LEGOs could bend—which they can’t, so don’t ask,” Logan says, narrowing his eyes at Roman, “it would be easier. Dragon scales don’t harden fully until they’re out of the egg and they never need to go back in.”

“So…they’re…soft?”

“Smooth, perhaps, I don’t know about soft.” Logan shifts to ease a cramp in his leg. “Dragon pups are also very curious, according to most of the literature surrounding them, they love exploring. From most of the stories, they are very friendly as well.”

“See?” Roman pats his shoulder. “Nice dragons.”

“Nice dragons,” Thomas repeats, his eyes starting to droop.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, sweetie, let’s get you something to eat.”

Thomas sits at the table with everyone else, eats his food, and lets Remus scoop him up and carry him to bed once it’s clear he won’t stay awake through dessert.

“There we go,” Remus says softly, getting him tucked into bed, “all better now. Your ankle okay?”

“Mhm.” Thomas blinks sleepily up at him. “Tired.”

“Well, yeah, I bet.” Remus pats his head. “You go to sleep now, okay?”

“R-Remus?”

“What’s up, little sewer rat?”

“C-Can you stay? Just for a bit?”

Remus softens, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Still scared, huh? Hey,” he murmurs when Thomas nods, his cheeks burning, “you’re okay, it’s okay. I’ll stay. Nothing’ll get you while I’m here.”

“Promise?”

“I’m the only bad guy allowed to play with you,” Remus says firmly, “you go to sleep. I’ll keep you safe.”

Thomas closes his eyes as he feels Remus shift on the end of the bed. The weight is a comfort. And Remus is right, nothing can get him while Remus is here.

Logan’s words drift back to him as he starts to fall asleep. Little baby dragons. Curious baby dragons. Nice baby dragons.

Maybe he can dream of those.

————————————

There is a pond in the Imagination that is halfway between the border to Remus’s side and the castle on Roman’s side. The water is crystal clear and several lily pads float in the center of the water. Trees let their flower petals drift down to land in the water, sending little ripples bouncing back and forth.

In the middle of the pond one morning is a giant nest.

Roman finds it, walking through the Imagination on his way to meet with Remus. He pauses, tilts his head, and begins to call it toward him. Perhaps one of the birds accidentally forgot to secure their nest properly and it blew into the pond. As it drifts closer to him, he frowns.

This is much bigger than most bird nests, even John Feathers’s nest over on the mountains. He keeps pulling it closer until it bumps up against the shore. He crouches down and peers inside.

His eyes widen.

The inside of the nest is lined with moss, the soft green color coming through the shiny insides of egg shards strewn about the branches. They catch the light and shine brightly, almost blinding him, at least until they’re trodden upon and break up even more.

And crawling about, sniffing eagerly at the branches, the moss, the air, and his fingers, are tiny dragon pups.

One of them, a brave little one with red ridges across its brow and a golden sheen to its scales, scurries up the side of the nest and noses at his hand. He turns it over, mystified, as it begins to sniff his palm. It sets one clawed foot inside, then another, then another, until it stands perfectly in his hand. It raises its little head and chirps at him. Roman blinks and slowly lifts his hand, watching as the dragon pup chirps again, happily this time, as it spreads its wings and stretches.

“Ro-Bro! You’re late, what’re you—“ Remus’s delighted gasp comes from his left— “you found babies!”

Indeed, another one of the pups with a black streak down its wings scrambles out of the nest and scurries over the rocks to Remus, clawing its way up his pants to nibble excitedly at the white streak in his hair. Remus laughs, catching the pesky little pup around the middle and setting it on top of his head.

“I love them!”

“I can see that,” Roman chuckles, the dragon pup in his hand making the jump to his shoulder, “I think it likes you too.”

“Where did they come from?”

“I think Thomas is dreaming.” As if in confirmation, the dragon pup lets out a rumble and nuzzles his shoulder. “Yeah? Are you dreams, little ones?”

Another purr and a series of excited chirps from the nest.

“Well, we’ve gotta get the others!” And before Roman can say anything, Remus has summoned the other Sides into the Imagination. “Look!”

Patton squeals and rushes for the nest, despite Logan’s quick protest of not scaring the babies.

“They’re dreams, Logan,” Roman says quickly, “they’re harmless.”

“I see.”

Patton, of course, already has two in his lap and is cooing over them as they chirp and sing and twine together in his lap. Logan rolls his eyes fondly and squats down next to the nest. One of the dragon pups immediately scurries up and stands on its hind legs, leaning up to sniff at his nose.

“Hello,” Logan murmurs, “you’re very interesting.”

The dragon clicks back, seemingly as interested in Logan as Logan is in it. It flaps its wings a few times, hovering in the air, before landing carefully on Logan’s knee. It scratches lightly at the fabric of his jeans.

“Here…” Logan sits down as Roman bites back a smile. “There, is that better?”

The dragon chirps, waddling forward to take his tie in its mouth and tug lightly.

“That’s my tie, little one.”

Virgil hides a snort at watching Logan and the dragon pup examine each other, before his attention is caught by a tiny squeak from under the nest. He frowns, leaning down, expression softening when he sees a dragon pup hiding out of sight.

“Hey, there, bud,” he says softly, “you okay down there?”

The dragon pup flinches a little, cowering against the nest.

“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” He slowly offers a hand. “Why don’t you come out of there? That’s can’t be comfortable.”

The little pup sniffs at his hand.

“See? I’m not gonna hurt you. You can come out, it’s okay.” Virgil takes a seat on the ground and plucks a berry from a nearby bush. “You hungry?”

“Dragons are carnivores, Virgil.”

“Well, maybe these ones can also eat berries.”

“Maybe.”

Indeed, as the little dragon pup starts to crawl warily forward, taking the berry in its mouth, it seems to like it. Virgil smiles as the dragon crawls into his lap and curls protectively around the berry.

“See?”

“Alright, perhaps they do like berries.”

“You should write that down in your—“ Virgil cuts himself off before swatting Roman’s shoulder— “look at J.”

“What?”

“Shh, look at J!”

Roman turns, as does Logan.

Janus is sprawled out on one of the big flat rocks near the pond with at least three of the pups on his stomach. One of them has the cloak flopped over it like a blanket, kneading it with its talons. One of them is completely splayed out, wings wide, rolling back and forth on the soft ruffles.

And one of them is staring at Janus with its tongue hanging out.

Janus’s tongue is poking out too.

“Aww! Janus is blepping!”

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Am not!”

See? There are nice dragons after all.

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

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Chapter 7

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him…

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Feedback appreciated.

NOW ON AO3 :D

Prologue Chapter 1   Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

The grey man was dead.

The grey man looked like he had been dead for some time.

What little skin he had remaining hung loosely from the bone. The eye sockets were empty, the patches of remaining hair were stringy and dirty. The skull had caved in around the crossbow bolt, revealing an awful wriggling mass of maggots on the inside. The stench of rotting flesh, which Roman had only been able to smell up close before, now filed the room, making him gag.

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, wishing desperately for whatever glamour had made it so hard to see the details of the grey man’s face to return. He griped Mittens’ soft fur tightly with his good hand, earning him a disgruntled meow.

“What the fuck.” A voice muttered.

Unseen by Roman, a figure emerged from the doorway. One with skin bleached white under the lamp light and eyes that seemed to glow an unnatural shade of violet. Most of him was hidden under a dark cloak, save for the fearsome looking crossbow he held at his hip.

Had there been anyone left to see, Virgil would no doubt have made an intimidating sight. At least until he reached out one foot to poke at the grey man's body and recoiled with an undignified ‘eeeeeew!’ when the flesh gave way easily under the pressure.

Virgil had served more years then he cared to remember in the Finaley’ed army. He had seen many dead bodies. That did not make it any better to hear one squelch.

“Okay.” He called, “Okay, the coast is clear and I shot a dead guy.”

Roman heard a second pair of footsteps approaching before a new voice asked: “Did you retrieve the bolt?”

“The bolt that is covered in maggots? No. No I did not.”

“That’s a waste of resources.”

“That is not my main problem with the corpse in the basement Loga- no don’t touch it!”

“This looks like several months of decay- but there’s no surrounding detritus – do you think they moved it here? For what purpose?”

“I don’t care! Maybe it’s just…some, some unlucky bath house guy that got left down here. Who knows! Just help me find the damm cat.”

“Ah yes,” Roman could hear the disdain in Logan’s voice, “The magic cat.”

On the ground, obscured from their view by the network of pipes, Roman kept his eyes firmly shut. So long as his eyes were shut, he was listening to Logan and Virgil’s bickering and was seconds away from rescue.

But what if he opened his eyes and they weren’t there?

Julius had been found of testing his curses’ limits in this area. He would order Romulus to ‘see’ imaginary monsters in the shadows and then have him describe them. Or to recount conversations that never happened. Or to forget ones that had. None of this research had ever been particularly successful - he couldn’t be ordered to alter reality, even in the privacy of his own head – but Julius had never quite given up on it.

What if he had found a way to make it work?

Roman could hear his own heartbeat, the fast paced thump melding with the rush of water in the pipes that surrounded him, making his head throb and his whole body tremble.

What if it wasn’t Virgil and Logan there at all? What if it was Niki and Marcus back again, or Lucius himself, or no one at all?

What if it wasn’t even Julius doing it, just his own pain-addled mind playing tricks on him?

Romulus bit back a whimper, squeezing his arms tight around his middle.

This was too much for Mittens, who let out a yowl of protest and wriggled out of Roman’s grip.

“Oh!” He gasped, eyes flying open “Sorry!”

Mittens ignored his apology, scampering away through the open door and disappearing into the gloom of the corridor. There was a shout, a sudden rush of footsteps and a loud clang followed by a short curse as someone tripped on one of the pipes running along the floor.

And then two men were standing over him. Twin expression of relief morphing quickly into concern.

Virgil swallowed hard, the healers eyes flicking rapidly over each visible injury before meeting Roman’s own.

“Hey there Princy.” Virgil said softly.

***

The journey back through the corridors was a lot slower than their journey in. At least Logan had managed to retrieve one of the lanterns from the maintenance room so he was no longer relying on clinging to the back of Virgil’s cape to navigate.

When they had initially followed the….cat….to the bathhouse they’d thought their luck was beginning to change. It was coronation day, all businesses were closed; it should have been an easy matter to sneak in. When Virgil had scaled the opposing buildings for some roof top reconnaissance however he had come back grim faced – the upper floors were full of soldiers.

The design on their uniform matched the symbol Lucy had drawn the night before, and that Logan had identified in the library that morning. It belonged to the house of Orenlla in Notaleveale. It was not three ‘Vs’ as Lucy had thought, but a stylised version of the three largest peaks on the Sarindu mountain range, which marked the border between Notaleveale and the middle kingdoms. The man she had seen had apparently been wearing his clasp upside down.

Despite his success, Logan had left the library disappointed. Ornella was a noble house in Notaleveale but not one significant enough to warrant a permanent residence in the middle kingdom city of Steveange. It was surely possible to find out where the contingent were staying – the townsfolk seemingly obsessed with the movement of the visiting nobility- but the librarians he spoke to all gave different suggestions, if any at all. Checking every possible address was going to take days.

As desperate as Logan had been feeling, at least he didn’t return to the meeting point with a cat.

Patton had gone to see the crone – or ‘Mama Tay’, as she apparently insisted Patton call her - who had no new information as to where Roman had gone or why he had left, but who had offered to help find him anyway.

Using her cat.

(“I don’t like it.” Virgil said.

“Thank you Virgil.” Logan said, relived to find at least one of his companions hadn’t lost their minds.

“It’s blood magic”

“It’s a CAT!”)

Apparently, when Mittens had scratched Roman at the crone’s – Mama Tay’s – house, it had collected enough blood for a simple locator spell. And Patton, bless him, had agreed to swap a bushel of fresh food from the market for an hours use of the magical bard seeking cat.

Logan had despaired.

Logan wasn’t quite ready to eat his words (dogs could be trained to track blood scents couldn’t they? Why not a cat? There was a reasonable explanation somewhere, surely) but even he had to admit, Mittens had been a lot more successful than any of them.

After Virgil had returned from the rooftop shaking his head, Mittens had meowed piteously until they followed him to a side street, where thin slits set at ground level vented hot air from the bathhouse basement. The cat had slipped in easily, and after a few minutes debate, Logan and Virgil had wiggled their way in after.

They’d used a rope to reach the ground, finding themselves at the base of a set of stairs. There was a soft glow at the top, presumably the main floor of the house, enough to illuminate Mittens’ tail as he trotted off deeper into the basement.

It was only Virgil’s night vision that prevented them from breaking their necks on the next set of stairs, but eventually they had made their way to the a well-lit and uncomfortably warm maintenance room.

And to Roman.

An injured Roman. A glassy-eyed Roman who could barely stand and started shivering as soon as they left the heat of the room.

“He’s going into shock.” Virgil muttered, fixing his cape around Roman’s shoulders. He pulled it tight, wrapping the ends securely, but making Roman whimper in pain. Not knowing what to do, Logan just held the lantern higher. It illuminated the cut on Roman’s sallow face, and the bruises that surrounded it. Bruises which continued over his shoulders and no doubt down his back. Logan had seen the stick, lying next to the corpse, it’s end strained with blood from where the skin had split.

Stupidly, he wished he’d taken the time to break it into a hundred little pieces.

When they reached the first set of stairs, they paused to let Roman catch his breath. His breathing was shallow and he slumped heavily against Logan’s side.

Logan had once watched Roman hop on one foot for almost a mile rather than swallow his pride and admit he needed help. Logan exchanged a glance with Virgil, not bothering to keep the panic from his face.

Virgil let out a long exhale an reached over to squeeze Logan’s shoulder reassuringly, shifting himself to take some of the bard’s weight.

“He’s not going to be able to climb out the way we came in.” Virgil murmured.

“Obviously.” Logan nodded.

That was okay. They had a plan B.

As if on cue, a distant roar rang out above them, followed by quite a lot of screaming.

“Issat Patton?” Roman asked, staring into the darkness with unfocused eyes.

“Mmhmm”, Virgil leaned over and pushed some of Roman’s damp hair away from his face. “He was meant to come get us if we weren’t out in twenty minutes. I think he’s early.”

“There’s at les’ a dozen of ‘em.” Roman slurred “Niki said.”

“Patton can handle it.” Virgil said firmly, though his eyes flickered to the ceiling, betraying his nervousness. “Can you walk?”

Roman nodded, though he needed both their help to actually manage it. It was painfully slow going, with Roman unsuccessfully trying to hide a wince of pain with each step.

The first flight of stairs was relatively short, but by the time they had reached the top Roman’s shaking was so bad it was making Logan’s own teeth rattle. Still, they pressed on, almost dragging the bard between them to the base of the much larger set of stairs that would take them to street level.

Here the noises from the floor above were much louder – the clash of steel on steel reverberating down the stairs.

Logan stared at the next obstacle, uncertain. There were what amounted to five flights, with a small flat platform at each turning point. There was a banister running each side of the stairs, but it was missing in several places. What was there didn’t look like it would hold much weight.

Above them, there was an enormous crash followed by a bellow of almost inhuman rage.

“Frog mode?” Roman asked drowsily.

“Frog mode.” Virgil said grimly.

The berserkers of Krutova painted their faces with the green and blue mud from the rivers and swamps that saturated their forest home. Legend said they could lie in wait for hours, hidden under the water, using hollow reeds to breath before leaping out on unsuspecting enemies with a monstrous frenzied rage, dragging their opponents to a watery grave – assuming they didn’t, quite literally, rip them apart first.

Logan had never seen Patton paint his face. And the big man did not like to talk about his time at war. But Logan had seen him fight off more than a dozen men in a bar brawl without breaking a sweat. He’d once seen him wrestle a wild boar just for fun.

Still. The men upstairs were trained guardsmen, not drunks. And they were armed. And it had only been a small boar.

Virgil was clearly having similar thoughts, his fingers twitching against his side, his eyes constantly flickering up and then back towards Logan and Roman. .

“Go.” Logan said, “We’ll follow you.”

Virgil hesitated, but Roman nodded, straightening up as much as he could “We’ll be righ’ behin’ you. Go help dad.”

Virgil dithered a moment more and then let out all his breath in a rush, reaching for the crossbow strapped to his back.

“Okay just. Go slow. We’ll come get you when the coast is clear.” he waited until they both nodded before turning and all but leaping up the stairs. Roman held his pose until he was out of sight and then collapsed once more against Logan’s side.

The scholar adjusted his grp on the lantern, and hooked his other arm over Roman’s back. With a grunt of effort, the bard managed to sling his left arm over Logan’s shoulder, leaving his uninjured hand free to grip the rickety banister. Logan squeezed, holding him tightly. Roman groaned as he pressed against the bruises and welts that coated his back but Logan held firm.

“One step at a time.” the younger man said softly. “Okay?”

Panting, Roman nodded, giving Logan a sickly lopsided grin.

The staircase spiralled five times before reaching the top floor. They made it round twice before trouble found them.

“You.” The man growled.

The man standing between them and freedom was generically handsome, with large eyes and a strong jaw. He had a passing resemblance to Roman; with the same dark reddish brown hair and tanned skin. He wore a doublet of pink and navy, with the three peaked mountains embroidered in gold thread.

“Luc’-“ Roman gasped out, “don’t-“

“Shut up!” the Marquis de Orenlla snapped. He held a wicked looking dagger in one hand, eyes ablaze. “Is there no end to your duplicity? You foul traitor, I should have you hanged!“

Also like Roman, he seemed to favour being loud over being coherent.

With a grunt, Roman removed his injured arm from Logan’s shoulder and clung to the banister.

“Go!” he shouted to Logan.

Logan spared him an exasperated glance and threw the lantern at the Marquis head.

He went down with a screech, rolling back and forth on the small platform to put the flames dancing on his embroidery. The dagger skirted away and over the edge of the platform.

“You go.” Logan snapped at Roman, pulling out his sword and stepping between the two men.

Technically it was Roman’s sword, the one he had left behind in the inn. But Logan has been taking their training sessions seriously and it felt comfortable in his hands. He pointed the blade a the Marquis throat, effectively pinning him to the ground.

“Wow!” Roman laughed and lent to the side to grin at the flabbergasted noble “I trained him.” he said smugly.

“Hurry up!” Logan hissed and to his great relief, Roman did so, inching his way behind Logan and starting up the next flight of stairs.

“Stop.” The Marquis croaked out.

Roman stopped.

Logan turned towards him, frustrated “Roman, I’ve got this – just keep-“

Later, Logan would blame the stress of the situation for just why he chose to turn away from his prisoner at that precise moment.

Before he had chance to process what was happening, he was falling. Pain rippling through his ankle from a well placed kick from the Marquis. He dropped the heavy sword almost immediately, only for it to be snatched up by the larger man.

Logan felt himself being dragged through the air, and all at once he was pinned against the Marquis chest, sword now held at his own neck.

He saw Roman start back down the stairs towards them and felt the Marquis’ hot breath against his ear as he shouted: “Stop!”

Roman stopped. One foot frozen in the air, he lost his balance almost immediately and toppled to the side, reaching out instinctively to grab the banister with his injured hand, letting out a howl of pain.

The Marquis shuffled backwards, dragging Logan with him, dangerously close to the edge of the platform.

“I’m serious, Romulus.” the Marquis growled. “Not one more step. Or your friend here is going to be even shorter.”

“I'm average height.” Logan muttered sullenly.

The Marquis snorted in his ear. “Where? In the Dwarf kingdom?”

“Lucius!” Roman whimpered, he was hunched over, cradling his bad arm to his chest. “Please – he’s just a kid!”

“I am only three years younger than you!” Logan cried indignantly.

“Oh right.” Roman muttered. “My bad.” And then Roman straightened up. He hadn’t been cradling his arm at all – he’d been working something out of his tunic.

Roman’s dagger, a dull pointless object in desperate need of replacement, came hurtling towards them.

The Marquis let out a shout and instinctively raised the sword to bat the dagger away. Logan took the opportunity to wrench out of his grip, blindly kicking out behind him as he did so.

His foot made satisfying contact with the Marquis’ knee, sending him toppling off the platform, a resounding series of crashes and shouts echoing through the chamber as he bounced down the stairs.

Logan hurried towards Roman as fast as he could, not bothering to turn around and see how far the Marquis had fallen.

“Can you move?” he asked breathlessly.

“I don’t think so.” Roman admitted from his prone position at the base of the steps. Logan bit back a wail of frustration. Roman truly looked done in, his eyes battling to stay open, and there was no way Logan was going to be able to carry him up the-

“Logan? Roman?”

Logan hadn’t been to a city temple since he left his apprenticeship. He had no particular interest in the Gods or their silly squabbles. But the sight of Patton - working his way towards them with his clothing torn and face splattered with blood that wasn’t his own – well. Logan was fairly certain he could pass for an angel.

“You’re safe now.” Logan whispered, although he had no proof of the long term truth of that statement, “go to sleep Roman.”

Roman did as he was told.

Part 8

#roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides fic #sanders sides #cretivitwins #i wasnt planning to get another chapter up so quick but im gonna have other things to focus on this weeek and aaaaah i just wanted to write #the rescue scene #EVERYONE IN THIS UNIVERSE IS A DISASTER BUT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER A LOT SO ITS OKAY #sidespart writes #ts: fall of romulus

[givemetherapyimawritingtravesty]

Hi, uhm I had an idea or prompt for a fic: Natalie (or Leo being the token gen-z) reading fanfic to the team that’s about them. I also love your fics and yeah.

Thank you so much!! So I did this fast, but it was so fun and hilarious to write. Hope you like it!

Character belong to the amazing @lumosinlove!

“So! Now that it’s just us adults, I am going to share with y’all some things an old friend sent to me.” Leo announced to the team, who were gathered in the Cubs apartment for a movie night.

“Old friend,” Finn scoffed, “Old as in from middle school? You’re not that old, Nutty. And you’re hardly an adult.”

Everyone laughed at that, Leo trying to speak above them, “Hey, hey, now, be nice or you won’t get to hear. He’s very into, um, writing, and reads a lot, and came across these and had to scar me by sending them to me without context, so I shall do the same to you. But before I start, has anyone ever heard of fanfics?”

“Leo whatever your middle name is Knut!” Natalie gasped. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I unfortunately did stumble upon, well, Damion did, but yeah. I didn’t get very far. I just thought I’d read a few of the summaries. So y’all are aware.”

“Is this like when someone rewrites the ending of a show or something?” Sirius asked.

“Oh, baby, no.” Remus hid his face in Sirius’ shoulder. “To clarify!” Remus held up a hand, “I haven’t read any, but I don’t live under a rock. This ought to be good. Please, do continue, Knut.”

“The first one he sent me was… let’s see… Ah, yes. The description goes: So apparently the hot guy on the bench has a name, and he’s been banging THE Captain Sirius Black this whole time. So here’s how I imagine that when down. And how he goes down on that hot piece of ass, one Remus Lupin.” Leo barely made it through the last sentence before breaking out into laughter, the team following suit. Remus blushed and again buried his face in Sirius’ shoulder and groaned.

“We do NOT need to discuss how that happened. Like, at all.” Remus mumbled into Sirius’ shirt, who was also blushing.

“Well,” Dumo cut in, “It would be wrong anyway. It all started on a stormy night with a dinner invitation…” Dumo trailed off, waving his hand dramatically. They had all heard the story by now.

Leo cleared his throat. “Moving on! We have, a personal favorite of mine entitled Harvard Times. Summary is: Finn and Logan went to Harvard together and both got drafted to the Lions together. Is it because they’re madly in love after meeting in chemistry class a becoming, cough cough, study partners? A late night in the library gets steamy in between the stacks.”

“Care to, maybe, read a bit of that one to us, Nut? Later?” Finn raised an eyebrow, smirking.

“We didn’t even have chemistry together.” Logan grumbled as the team laughed and wolf whistled at Finn’s antics.

“Uh…” Leo blushed, “Yeah, maybe. I mean, it’s actually not bad, lots of lead up, and-”

“WAIT!” Natalie yelled, silencing the room, “Did you READ that one?”

“I mean… a little? Hey! Their my boyfriends, it was hot! They-”

“We don’t need any more information than that, thanks.” Talker interjected. “Anything else you’d like to share?

“Yeah, and this one I find most funny, because of how random. Here’s my ode to my two favorite Lions, Thomas Walker,” Leo pointedly looked at him, “And Kasey Winter. Water, as I called them, because they are essential to life. Shameless locker room steamy shower smut. Please Enjoy.”

“Whelp, I was fine before this involved me. Sorry to steal your man, Nat.” Thomas laughed it off.

“I am now terrified of what else could be out there.” Kasey said, whipping out his phone.

“Whatcha doin’ there, hun?” Natalie asked.

“Nothing.” He responded, shielding his phone away from her.

“On another note, I think it’s time everyone leaves.” Finn said before the conversation could drift to another topic, staring down at his phone with wide eyes.

“Did you find it?” Logan asked, looking up from his phone to look over at Finn.

“Oh yeah. It does not disappoint.”

“And that’s our cue.” Remus said, standing up.

Everyone started to get up when Kasey announced, “Hold up! There’s so many! Sirius and baby rookie Nut. The goalies. Dumo and Logan?” Kasey made a retching sound. “Alright, I’m done. I regret knowing.”

“Now you, too, can suffer. I definitely chewed Dame out for sending me these.”

“Thank him for me, though.” Finn said. “This gives me so many ideas.” He muttered to himself.

“Bedroom. Now.” Logan stated as he got up and walked off.

As everyone filed out, laughing about how the evening had progressed, Sirius spoke up.

“Remember, morning practice tomorrow so don’t stay up too late reading, yeah?”

“Oh, the time for reading is over, Cap.” Finn smirked and walked to the bedroom.

“Be safe!” Dumo shouted from down the hall. “That goes for everyone.” He pointedly looked at Sirius and Remus.

Remus held his hands up in surrender, “I was just planning a night of reading an actual book.”

“Uh huh.” Dumo headed for the stairs.

“How come no one ever believes me?”

“Maybe because Cap always had that smirk on. And how he’s always undressing you with his eyes.” Kasey pointed out.

Sirius gave an indignant whine as they all headed out and home for the night.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #coops #oknutzy #dumo #Pascal dumias #kasey winter #natalie darcy #Leo knut #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #hotguyonthebench #coast to coast lumosinlove

[max-nico]

SanderSides Fic I Never Wrote but You Can Have the Idea

Logan is the only human in a house of mythical creatures who are all trying to hide that they are mythical creatures. He creates a journal where he writes about all the weird shit his friends do. His journal is called "Scientific Research About My Friends Because They Are Truly Enigmas". They all have a crush on him.

Roman is a kitsune. Logan often documents about how hot Roman is all . the . time . Not like constantly sweating? It's just whenever he touches Roman he almost feels like his hand is burning. He's like "why?? Why is this man not sick but always running a fever??" Roman sheds even when he's not in his full kitsune form. Logan is confused because they don't own cats. Patton is allergic. Who is hiding a cat?? Why is Patton not sneezing?? Virgil uses Roman as a personal heater.

Patton is fae (though I know not much about fae). He has a gift with plants and there's a group of people who are just terrified of this man. Logan is confused because Patton is a sweet man who would never hurt a fly. Why do the strangers run?? Patton's room is also covered in plants, they grow so long that they wind around his desk and flow out the window, but these plants aren't meant to grow this big.

(Logan, with a recorder: "Patton how do your plants get this big?!"

Patton: "Homemade fertilizer !!"

Logan, excited for some answers: "What's it made out of?"

Patton, sweating: "Just the normal stuff and... stuff")

Virgil is a ghost who is only corporeal 50% of the time. Logan just thinks he leaves the house a lot. He sometimes catches him sitting on high places he shouldn't be able to reach because What There Is No Logical Way To Get Up There How!? And Virgil is just staring into space (where are his pupils??) Virgil tends to avoid touch and Logan just assumes he doesn't like it. Logan is just ever so slightly afraid of and for Virgil, Virgil thinks this is comedy gold.

Remus is this demon imp thing, nobody is quite sure what he is. He just kinda appears at the house and Logan has stopped questioning it. Logan has also stopped questioning why Remus always wears that weird headband with horns on it. (Hint, its not a headband) Wow Remus You're So Flexible How Did You Learn To Contort Your Body That Way =0 !!! Remus and Virgil are best friends

Janus is the magic guy (necromancer? Witch? Haven't decided) who summoned the the Hell Spawn. Wow Janus it is so cool how you know all those poems in that weird book of yours, says Logan the oblivious. He thinks Janus is a mixologist because that was the logical conclusion, but it does not explain the cauldron in his room. He thinks Janus knows Latin just because and not for any other reason at all. Ah, the scales on your face is a skin disorder and not a curse, because curses don't exist

Logan confides in his friend Thomas, who is a bit younger than Logan, but acts older. Thomas is also a vampire. "You are just cold because that is how you are. You act this way because of trauma that is all. You are just pale because. Man, I've never seen someone like fruit punch this much. You don't like pictures which is okay because I don't either. I've never seen you eat are you okay?" -Logan, the smartest dumbass you'll ever meet

Patton ends up accidentally spilling the secret and they explain it to Logan who takes it as well as expected.

The boys: Surprise, we could kill you and no one could say shit about it. We have covered up crimes and faked our deaths enough to not let anyone think anything is wrong. We could slaughter your whole family and you would never even know.

Logan:

Logan:

Logan: what.

The boys: We Like You So Its Fine.

Logan: what.

Maybe they become boyfriends later or something idk but they are all very protective of their human so maybe I'll write that but I really doubt it

Based off of this post

#i have the mic #sanderssides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides au #if you write this thingy tag/credit me #ts patton #ts remus #ts logan #ts roman #ts virgil #ts deceit #ts thomas #i have more of this shit if you wanna hear it #fanfic 4 u

[daised-daisy]

Happy Ever Afters

Ship: Logince (Logan x Roman)

Summary: Roman Ellison has been dreaming of owning his own bookstore for his whole life. He’s so close, but when that dream comes crashing down thanks to an uptight businessman, Roman decides he’s not going down without a fight.

Aka, two idiots fall in love Hallmark Movie style. 

Word Count: 3,528

Ao3 | Next

~

Today was going to be a beautiful day. Roman knew that because as long as he maintained a positive attitude, good things would come his way. That’s how the world worked. Because the world was fair, and the world was good.

He grinned when he saw his brother at the cash register of the coffee shop that he frequented every morning. He rushed up before anyone else could get in line.

“Hey!” he greeted.

“RoRo! I was hoping this would be one of the few upsides of being moved to the morning shift,” Remus said, then yawned. “Though, no offense, but I don’t think seeing you for a few minutes every day is enough of a pro to outweigh the con of not being asleep at this ungodly hour.” Roman laughed.

“No offense taken. I get it,” he said. “So besides the sleepiness, how’s it going?”

“Excuse me, could you cut the chit-chat? I’ve got somewhere to be,” a voice said from behind Roman. Roman furrowed his brows and turned. He raised his chin as he was met with a striped, blue tie and crisp, white button-up instead of a face. When he met the tall stranger’s dull grey eyes, he frowned at him.

“Excuse me, but if you’re in such a hurry, maybe you should skip the coffee today, Sir,” he said, putting his hands on his hips. He turned back to Remus. “One hot chocolate, please.”

“And one black coffee. I’ll be paying for both,” the man behind him added, stepping up beside Roman and slapping his credit card on the counter.

“Oh, a change of heart?” Roman asked mockingly, raising a brow.

“No, just speeding up the process and getting my coffee before you start blabbering again,” he said. Roman scoffed, putting a hand over his heart.

“Well, pardon my strong language, but you, Sir, are no gentleman!” he said, swiftly turning away, the skirt of his red sundress twirling around his thighs.

“I can live with that,” he said, grabbing his coffee and credit card as soon as Remus placed it on the counter.

“Ugh, can you believe that guy?” Roman asked.

“I know, right? No tip? I mean, with a suit like that, he’s gotta be loaded. He could spare buying your hot chocolate but couldn’t spare a dollar for my tip jar?” Remus said, throwing his thumb towards a glass jar with a yellow sticky note that said ‘TIPS’. Roman put the money he had gotten out for his hot chocolate and put it in the jar. Remus grinned. “Thanks, man!”

“Of course,” Roman said as he grabbed his hot chocolate off the counter. “I better be off to work now. Bye!”

“Bye!” Remus replied, waving as Roman left. He smiled as he walked back outside, determined to not let one rude stranger spoil his mood.

~

A few hours later, surrounded by tales of princesses, fairies, and dragons, Roman led a young, disinterested girl through an aisle of bookshelves in the Happy Afters Book Store. His green eyes darted around in search of a title that might pique the girl’s interest, but she had already turned down every fantasy book he could think of… except!

“How about this one?” he asked, pulling out a book about a princess who dresses up as a knight to help save her kingdom. She handed it to the girl, who looked at the back and furrowed her brows.

“Maybe…” she said. “Does it have a love story?”

“I don’t think so,” Roman said. The girl’s face lit up.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed before running off to find her mom to buy the book. Roman shook his head, smiling fondly. If all she wanted was a romance-less book, she could’ve just said so. Oh well. It didn’t matter. Roman enjoyed helping customers find the right book. One that might become their new favorite. One that might completely change their life. One that might inspire them to do something wonderful.

“Ro!” Patton, his coworker and best friend, called from behind him. Roman turned and raised a brow at Patton’s abnormally wide grin. “Mr. Westbrook wants to see you in his office. He says it’s something very important.” That immediately absolved Roman’s confusion and his face mirrored Patton’s.

“Do you think this is it?” he asked, grabbing Patton’s upper arms. Patton nodded.

“It has to be! With all that talk about Mr. Westbrook retiring soon, what else could it be?”

“He could be getting fired,” Virgil, another coworker, suddenly cut in as he walked up to them. Roman narrowed his eyes at him.

“This conversation doesn’t concern you,” he hissed.

“Oh come on, it was bound to happen at some point, Princey. You can only deal with an employee that annoying for so long,” Virgil teased.

“You better watch that attitude, mister. I’m about to become your boss,” Roman said, crossing his arms. Virgil let out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I know. There’s no way Westbrook would give it to anyone else. No one else on the entire planet is as passionate about a store as you are about this one,” Virgil admitted. He patted Roman’s shoulder. “Let us know how it goes, boss.”

“Good luck, Ro!” Patton cheered. Heart pounding and smile bright, Roman walked off towards his boss’s office. The small room with old floral wallpaper and shelves packed with various knick-knacks and figurines of book characters felt like home to Roman—more than his current apartment ever would. It put him at ease and filled his chest with a familiar warmth.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Westbrook?” Roman asked cheerfully. Mr. Westbrook glanced up from some documents on his desk, revealing brown eyes glazed with tears. Roman’s smile started to fade until it was revived with a grin from Mr. Westbrook. He supposed retirement can be very emotional, especially since Mr. Westbrook was so attached to his bookstore.

“Good morning, Roman,” Mr. Westbrook greeted with a choked-up voice. He cleared his throat, patting his chest with a curled-up fist. “I have some very big news and I… I wanted you to be the first to hear it.”

“Oh?” Roman said, leaning forward slightly in anticipation. Mr. Westbrook cleared his throat once again and glanced around his desk, drumming his fingers lightly against it. A frustrated groan nearly slipped past Roman’s smile; the anticipation was killing him.

“I’m not exactly sure how to say this, but… well, you’ve been working here for a long time now,” he began again. “You’re my best employee. More than that, you’re like a son to me, Roman. I really don’t know what this bookstore would be without you. Certainly not as great as it is now. That’s why I… I’m trusting you with it.”

“So you’re saying…” Roman urged, yearning to hear just the right words he’d been dreaming of hearing.  

“I’m saying I hope you’ll try to keep this place great after I sell it to Printech,” he said. Roman’s heart dropped into his stomach and his jaw to the floor. He stood there wordlessly, staring at his boss with a look of pure devastation.

“You… you what?” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“I’m selling this store to the company Printech,” Mr. Westbrook restated. “I’ve ensured you will still have a job here along with all our other long-time employees. I’ve put in excellent word about you to your new boss.”

“I don’t understand,” Roman said. “I thought… I thought…”

“You thought you’d be running the store after me,” Mr. Westbrook finished with a nod. “I know. So did I. I want very much to give Happy Afters Books to you, Roman, because I know you deserve it, but Printech has my hands tied. I have no choice. As of this Monday, I will no longer own this store.”

Roman shook his head as if he could erase and remake what was happening before him like the world was an Etch-a-Sketch. Tears welled up in his eyes and suddenly keeping his breathing steady was a task too overwhelming to handle.

“Is that,” he began, a hiccup interrupting him. He wiped his eyes as tears started to spill. “Is that all, Sir?”

Mr. Westbrook hesitated as he opened his mouth to speak. The words he wanted to say were lost to him. He finally sighed and nodded. “Yes, Roman.” With his dreams thoroughly shattered, Roman turned and left. He walked down the hallway into the main area behind the counter. Patton had been standing at the cash register waiting for Roman to come back or a customer to approach—whichever came first. He turned with a bright grin when he heard Roman’s footsteps approaching.

“So, how’d it go?” he asked, drawing out the first word in the cheery tone he always had. Roman looked up, revealing his teary eyes and running mascara. Patton’s face fell. “Ro..?” Roman wanted to explain, but as soon as he parted his lips, a small sob escaped. Patton rushed over, pulling him into a hug. “Oh, sweetheart… what happened?”

“I’m not getting the store,” Roman whimpered, his voice slightly muffled as he buried his face in his friend’s shoulder.

“Well, maybe not today, but-“

“No, not ever!” Roman said, pulling away. He took a deep breath and hugged himself, drawing back.

“Roman? What’s wrong?” Virgil asked, just then noticing Roman had emerged and seeing his tears. His eyes widened. “Did Mr. Westbrook actually fire you? Oh my god, I totally jinxed it! I’m so sorry!” Roman shook his head, wiping the sleeve if his denim jacket across his face, smearing his running mascara across his face. “Then… what happened?” He only shook his head again.

“Roman.” All three turned at the sound of their boss’s voice. Even as he gazed into Mr. Westbrook’s somber eyes, he hoped, so desperately hoped that they would suddenly lighten. He hoped he’d laugh as he exclaimed how this had all been a prank. He hoped today had been some holiday akin to April Fool’s Day that he’d just forgotten or never even heard of. But Mr. Westbrook only continued to gaze at him pitifully. “Why don’t you take the day off? On me.”

“Oh no, Sir!” Roman said quickly. “I’ll be fine to work. I just need a moment to get myself together.”

“Roman,” Mr. Westbrook said, his shoulders falling and his brows coming together in worry. “I insist.” Roman felt the lump he’d nearly beaten down reforming in his throat.

“Yes, Sir,” he croaked out before grabbing his bag and moving swiftly towards the door. Patton watched him leave, then turned back to Mr. Westbrook.

“Sir?” he said softly, knowing he already knew the question on his mind. He sighed.

“Boys, I’m afraid my time as your boss is coming to a close,” he said.

“So you’re giving Roman the store,” Virgil said, his voice wavering. “A-and those were just tears of joy, right?”

“I wish they were,” Mr. Westbrook said, lowering his gaze and slowly shaking his head. “Unfortunately, they’re just as painful as the ones I have been shedding myself.”

“What does that mean?” Patton asked.

“It means I’m selling the store,” he admitted.

“What?!” Patton and Virgil chorused.

“Believe me, it’s not of my own will,” Mr. Westbrook said. “I had no choice. If I did, I’d give Roman the store in a heartbeat.”

“I don’t understand. How could you not have a choice?” Virgil asked.

“Well, running a business is a lot of work and a lot of money. I had to take out a few loans along the way,”

“But Happy Afters is so successful! I mean, between you and your wife, you’re loaded!” Virgil said. Patton nudged him roughly, frowning. Virgil cleared his throat. “Uh, Sir. So, shouldn’t you be able to pay it back?”

“It’s not that simple,” Mr. Westbrook said, “and that’s all I can say on the matter.” He turned and went back into his office.

“I can’t believe it,” Virgil said once he was gone.

“Me neither,” Patton said. “Owning a bookstore has been Roman’s dream since we were children.” He paused. “Well, that and being a Disney Princess.” He frowned. “Now they’re both too far out of reach.”

~

“Hey, Remus,” Roman said as he sat in his car, still in the parking lot of Happy Afters. “Can you call me when you get off work? I have something I need to talk to you about. Actually, could you just come over? I-If not, just call me, but if you can… please come.” He hung up before another sob slipped out, then started driving home.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, his phone rang, and Remus’s name flashed on the screen. Roman answered it.

“Remus–”

“So who gets the honor of having my gorgeous face be the last thing they ever see?” Remus asked.

“I never said anything was wrong!” Roman said as he entered the building and started up the stairs towards his floor. “How did you—?”

“Brothers just know these things,” Remus said. “Besides, your voice was trembling like it was a hairless kitten out in the snow. Anyway—“ Remus was cut off by a honk. “Oh shut up, dipstick! If you’re gonna drive like my grandma, you’re gonna get passed!”

“Remus, are you driving?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, I’m on my way over,” Remus said.

“Get off the phone!” Roman shouted.

“Relax, you’re on speaker and my phone is in that phone holder thingy you got me for Christmas,” Remus assured him. “I’ve got both hands on the wheel.”

“Well, fine, but aren’t you supposed to be at work? You told me your new schedule has you there until like an hour from now,” Roman said, glancing at his watch before unlocking his door and going inside. He threw his bag aside and plopped down onto the couch.

“Yeah, I left,” Remus said.

“Remus!”

“Relax,” he said, dragging the word out. “It was slow, so Nina said I could go after I told her it was a family emergency.”

“You are unbelievable,” Roman said, pinching between his brows.

“And I’ll be there in ten minutes with your favorite flavor of ice cream,” Remus said. Roman smiled.

“Thanks, Remus. I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he said. He hung up the phone and let out a long breath. He stood up and took off his denim jacket and sundress, hanging them back up for another day, a better day, then got out a pair of red sweatpants and a soft, white t-shirt to replace them with. He unlocked the door, then sat back down on the couch, curling up.

A few minutes later, Remus arrived.

“Hey, Ro!” he said. “I brought the ice cream. Your favorite!” He handed Roman a pint of rocky road. Roman furrowed his brows.

“Remus, this is your favorite,” he said, handing it back to him as he sat down next to him.

“Really?” he said, inspecting the label. “Damn, I must’ve forgotten my ADHD meds this morning.” Roman giggled. “Welp! No matter! I’ll just run back to the store!” He stood up, then paused. “Uh, your favorite is… strawberry, right?”

“Cookie dough,” Roman corrected, “but it’s okay. Don’t go back. I’m not hungry anyway.” Remus slowly sat back down, setting the ice cream aside.

“Okay,” Remus said, putting an arm around Roman’s shoulder. “So tell me what’s got my favorite little brother so upset?”

Roman’s small smile faded. Remus’s antics had momentarily distracted him from the fact that his dreams were crashing down around him into unsalvageable little pieces.

“It’s the store,” he began. “Mr. Westbrook is selling it to some company.”

“But… he was supposed to give it to you,” Remus said.

“That was never a guarantee,” Roman reminded him, his voice trembling as another wave of tears flowed over him. “I just don’t know what to do!” He put his head in his hands. Remus pulled his brother close, rubbing his back soothingly.

“I’m so sorry, Ro,” he said. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I-I’ll be fine. I just… I just need to stay positive,” Roman said, sitting up and wiping his eyes.

“No, Roman. You need to grieve. You need to be upset. You’re allowed to be upset,” Remus said. Roman shook his head.

“I refuse to just sit around and feel sorry for myself. Mr. Westbrook may have insisted I take the day off from work, but he can’t stop me from being productive at home!” Roman said.

“Roman…” Remus began.

“It’s a perfect opportunity to clean up the place,” Roman continued.

“And distract yourself from your hurt,” Remus finished.

“Exactly!”

“No. No, Roman, that isn’t good. You can’t just bottle it all up inside,” he said, taking his brother’s hands in his.

“I can do whatever I please,” Roman said, yanking his hands away. “Now you’re welcome to stay, but I don’t want to hear another word about… you know what.”

“I think I’ll go,” Remus said, heading towards the door. Just before he touched the handle, Roman spoke.

“Remus, wait,” he said. Remus turned, ready to resume consolation, but instead of having his brother in his arms, he got something much colder instead. “Take the ice cream.”

~

A cool breeze hit Roman’s face as he got out of his car. It was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the previous day and, in Roman’s opinion, very fitting of the situation. He reached back into his car and grabbed his bag from the passenger seat. He stood back up and pushed the car door shut with his hip, then started towards the doors.

His cheeks were dry of tears, but only because he’d wasted them all last night and the previous couple of nights before that. He took a deep breath as he reached the double doors.

“Just keep a positive attitude,” he reminded himself in a whisper, then pulled one of the doors open. He moved to step inside, but found he couldn’t will his feet forward. He let the door close and turned away, starting to pace slightly. “Positive attitude. Positive attitude. Just stay positive and you’ll have good things come your way.” He paused, took a deep breath, and formed the brightest smile he could muster. “Okay! Here we go!” He spun around towards the door, slamming into something cloth. He sputtered and stumbled backward, then looked up at what, or rather who, he’d just crashed into. His eyes widened.

“Well, chatterbox, you really do take your time doing everything, don’t you?” an unfortunately familiar face said as he stood leaning against the open door with his arms crossed. “Allow me to help you speed things up.” He gestured for Roman to step inside.

It only took a few seconds of fumbling over his words for Roman to find a response.

“Oh yeah? Well, this still doesn’t make you a gentleman, Sir Fancy Pants,” he snapped back sharply before he marched inside.

“My name is Logan,” the man corrected as he followed him, letting the door shut behind him.

“Well, Logan,” he replied. “I regretfully suppose you’re the… the…” He cleared his throat as a lump started to form in it. Guess he hadn’t wasted all of his tears.

“I’m your new boss, yes,” Logan finished. “And my first command is for you—and I do assume you are one of my new employees—is to tell me which one of these people is Roman.” He gestured to the employees standing around. Everyone was present to greet the new boss, but no one looked excited for the occasion. “I was told he would be my most useful asset. Unfortunately, no one seems to want to cooperate with me at all, so no one will tell me who he is.” Roman grinned.

“What goes around really does come around, my friend. I happen to be the one you're looking for,” he said, putting a hand on his chest.

“You’re Roman?”

“The one and only,” Roman said with a shallow bow. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Excellent,” he said. “You’re being promoted. To my assistant. Go get me some coffee.”

“That’s not funny,” Roman said, putting his hands on his hips.

“I’m not joking,” Logan said. “The coffee shop isn’t far, so I expect it to still be warm when you return.” As he started towards the rest of the employees, Roman felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see just the person he needed.

“Patton,” he sighed in relief, leaning forward and hugging him. “Oh gosh, this is a nightmare.”

“I know, honey. I know,” Patton said, rubbing his back. “But it’ll all work out somehow. We just gotta stay-“

“Positive,” Roman finished, smiling as he pulled back. “You’re right. I just have to show Logan that I’m intelligent and capable and he’ll start treating me with the respect I deserve.”

“Exactly,” Patton said. “Now let me take care of that coffee order and you go work your magic!”

“Thanks, Pat,” Roman said, his tense shoulders falling. He’d gotten off to a rocky start, but Roman wasn’t close to giving up. He’d protect Happy Afters Books and everything Mr. Westbrook had built just like he promised.

#logince #roman sanders #logan sanders #happy ever afters au #daisy writing