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theflyingfeeling · 2 years

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I was being so brave and dived head first in your blog to search the domestic prompts like I was trying to find a treasure from the bottom of the ocean. And I was succesful 😎

Can I have Niko/Olli and

we buy another blanket to stop you from hogging the one we do have, but next morning i still somehow find you all snuggled up in mine

🥺❤️

That was very brave of you indeed! 🥰💗

This is the last one of my domestic prompts and probably the last prompt fic one I'll do for a while, so it's time to thank everyone who sent in their requests 🌹 However, please know my askbox is always open for literally anything, and while I may not be reblogging "prompt posts", feel free to send me your ideas still and I'll see what I can do (or just pop in to say hi, I'd love that too <3)

You can find all the domestic prompts in this tag and all the other ficlets I've written on a pinned post on my blog 😘

(1066 words)

Niko smiled as he watched Olli hugging the new blanket (still wrapped up in plastic) to his chest while they queued for the cash register. If he had known it would make his boyfriend so delighted, he would have taken him duvet shopping in their local Ikea ages ago, even if they had accidentally ended up spending well almost 200 euros on new tableware, a rug for their renovated balcony, a floor lamp to replace the one Rommi knocked over, some decorative cushions for the living room sofa where they liked to nap together, and a frame for that picture Aleksi had secretly taken of them at Midsummer last year and gifted to them as a sizeable print for Christmas. However, Niko had only barely managed to rip the giant Blåhaj out of Olli’s hands under the pretext of claiming they had “no room in our tiny apartment for such an enormous thing, and besides, aren’t you a little too old for stuffed toys?”

Niko’s heart broke when he saw the disappointment and hurt on Olli’s face, but how else was he supposed to cover the fact he had already bought one months ago and was planning on giving it to Olli for his next birthday? (That is, if Tommi would take as good care of the fluffy blorb as he had promised he would.)

Eventually Olli had given in and said goodbye to the shark with a seemingly heavy heart and went on about their shopping spree, but when he heard Olli sigh wistfully as a small child walked past them with a Blåhaj in her tiny arms, Niko’s smile faded.

“Wanna grab some sushi and ice cream on our way home?” Niko nudged Olli’s shoulder. The man turned to nod and smile at him faintly, which wasn’t the reaction Niko was looking for, but he supposed it was what he deserved in that moment for being the cold-hearted bitch who didn’t let Olli walk out of the store carrying a huge stuffed toy in his arms like that lucky little girl who skipped along after her parents.

Niko’s only hope for the evening to not end in tears was that the new eiderdown they had bought would be worth the money and guarantee them both a good night’s sleep with no fighting over the only blanket in the bed any more.

“Ahh, best purchase ever!” Olli hummed as he snuggled himself under his brand new duvet so that only his blissful face was showing from under it. Niko grinned as he helped Olli tuck himself in even tighter and mentally crossed his fingers for the thickest and fluffiest duvet they had found to keep Olli warm enough to prevent him from stealing Niko’s again, knowing Olli got cold more easily than anyone Niko knew. He still remembered the time they had been spending the last weekend of August at Niko’s parents’ summer cottage with the guys and how everyone had stayed on the porch drinking and playing card games in their shorts and t-shirts until about one in the morning, while Olli had been curled up in front of the fireplace, having buried himself under all the blankets he could find, chattering his teeth until Niko eventually joined him with an old pair of woolly socks for him to put on.

Of course Niko didn’t wish for Olli to be cold ever – in fact, he had made it his personal mission to keep his boyfriend warm and comfortable at all times – but he did find it ridiculously endearing whenever Olli huddled closer to him to seek warmth, whether it was while lying on the sofa watching a movie or at the metro station after having had dinner downtown. Niko loved it when Olli rested his head on Niko’s shoulder and made these adorable small noises, the tone of which varied depending on whether Olli was more chilly or tired, and Niko could spend forever with Olli’s hands fumbling on his body, looking for a pocket or a crook for him to slip his chilly fingers in until they became as warm as Niko’s own skin.

There were few downsides to it, honestly; however, one of them was definitely the fact Niko himself often woke up cold and uncovered in the morning, only to find Olli holding on to the duvet they shared as if it was a lifejacket keeping him on the surface of a raging ocean.

“Sleep well, sweetie,” Niko said as he left a soft kiss on Olli’s lips that seemed to be stuck in a satisfied smile.

Already half asleep (or so Niko assumed), Olli only responded with a content humm, wiggling under the duvet a few more times before settling. Niko marvelled at the sleeping figure next to him for a little while, listening to his calm inhales and exhales and memorising each sweet curve of his face before turning off the bedside lamp.

When Niko cracked his eyes open at 7 AM, his skin was in goosebumps and his feet felt like icicles, which explained why he had dreamed of it being winter in the middle of late July.

And when he looked to his side, he understood the reason for his shivers.

Niko could not imagine freeing his duvet from Olli’s grip, not only because it seemed physically impossible due to how firmly Olli was pressing it against his bare chest, but also because he didn’t dare disturb the man’s slumber, not when he was smiling like a child that had fallen asleep on Christmas Day while clutching his new favourite toy in his arms.

The duvet they had bought had been kicked on the floor, by accident or purpose, Niko could only guess. At that moment, he didn’t know what he had expected.

It was obvious Niko couldn’t have both – a satisfied boyfriend and something to cover himself with in bed at night – so he contented himself with what he currently had and shuffled to meet Olli’s body in the middle of the bed. He touched their noses together, careful not to wake Olli up (even though it would take at least half of an apocalypse for that to happen most mornings), and wrapped an arm around the sleeping man. If Niko had to, he’d happily be the Jack to Olli’s Rose and freeze his ass if that’s what it took to keep Olli’s warm and safe.

#blind channel #blind channel fanfiction #blind channel rpf #not me projecting the fact i'm always cold #currently hiring: someone to keep me warm 🥺#domestic fluff by theflyingfeeling #next on my to-do list: 1) the bc summer fest assignment 😎 2) the gran hotel au 😌#maybe if i get bored enough i'll post this and all the other prompts i've done here as a compilation on ao3 🤷‍♀️

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writteninsunshine · 2 years

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Paradise Lost - Fizzarolli/Asmodeus - SFWish

Title: Paradise Lost

Author: Keith

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Setting: Ozzie’s

Pairing: Fizzarolli/Asmodeus | Ozzie

Characters: Fizzarolli, Asmodeus | Ozzie

Genre: Drama/Romance/Hurt/(no)Comfort

Rating: T

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1426

Type Of Work: One-Shot, Day 14 - Of 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie

Status: Complete

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Set Directly After Ozzie’s, Moxxie/Millie Mention, Moxxie Mention, Millie Mention, Blitzo Mention, Original Male Character(s) Mention, Hurt/No Comfort, Blood, Injury, I Took Some Liberties With Fizzarolli’s Injuries, I Also Took Some Liberties With The Layout Of Ozzie’s But That Isn’t News, Nausea, Hemophobia, Hemophobia Mention, Established Relationship

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except Brick.

Summary: This time, he couldn't place the blame on Blitzo, even if he kind of wanted to.

AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a Helluva Boss Tumblr, too! Twitter is Sunshinecackle, and Tumblr is Gimme-A-Thrust! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Tumblr/Twitter!

Okay, so, this one is a little bit more canon-compliant than most of my fics, I think. More or less. Though it is definitely a bit bloodier than the episode, I figured that it would work out. I wanted more blood, I guess? Regardless, I got this one done early, too, which gives me a chance to work on something else for a bit. I keep pecking at other things when I’m not running too late on the next prompt.

Requests on Gimme-A-Thrust, and the Dark & Cozy fest fic I have are the main focus but I’ve had to rework the D&C fic several times, now. Hopefully I can get something that sticks.

30 Days Of Fizzarozzie Fic Masterlist

Paradise Lost

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“Yeah, well, you don’t have to be a giant dick about it.” Fizzarolli snarled under his breath, crossing his arms tighter over his chest as he kept his flat stare focused on the wall across from him. Ozzie’s lips were drawn in a thin line, his eyes cut into sharp slits as he dabbed at the dried blood running retired, orange-brown trails from Olli’s nose down his cheek. His shirt had been tossed to the side already, forgotten after it left him gagging with the blood on it. Ozzie didn’t want him to throw up.

“Can’t help it,” Asmodeus offered as he wiped a little harder at the other’s chin with the wet rag in his hand, making an attempt at his usual bright smile that didn’t quite land, “Giant demon, giant dick. I thought you liked that about me.”

Growling, the imp chittered as his teeth clattered together in a clear warning, and Ozzie rolled his eyes.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were mad at me, not those little bitches that did this to you.” While it was meant to be a simple, unbiased observation, Fizzarolli’s rotten mood tinted his words and the King just about lost his thumb when it swiped over his bottom lip. Yanking his hand back with a surprised yelp, he gaped at his new wound, his glove soon blooming red. Holding it so that Fizzarolli wouldn’t see the blood, he furrowed his brows.

Yeah, that much he expected as soon as he was bitten. Those teeth were clearly meant to render flesh from bone, but he’d never found himself in a situation like this. Bleeding from a bite that his lover gave him? A perfectly normal thing that one didn’t have to be Stolas in order to foresee. To be bitten in the first place?

Sure, yeah, no, those teeth hurt because of course, they did, but what stung, maybe even ripped into him sharper, was the sudden aggression on his little lover’s end. Fizzarolli’s arms tightened over his chest, wrapping around his back and over again until his torso was a coil of black, ribbed metal. A firm pout was affixed to his lips, and he either wouldn’t or couldn’t look at Ozzie, his eyes intensely focused on the wall to the left of his head. The room was dimly lit, the slowly cycling blue to purple to pink neon lights too bright for the sharp pain behind his eyes, and he finally closed his eyes.

Sitting in silence for a long moment, Ozzie just gawked at Olli, his eyes dropping to his thumb and lifting again to take in his lover’s displeased, squinty-eyed scowl. Well, if he didn’t want his help, then there wasn't anything that he could really do about it, right?

“Alright, Olli Baby.” His voice was quiet, muted in a way that made the imp’s nose wrinkle up, and Ozzie held his hands out in a placating gesture before dropping the injured one at his side. Thrusting his shoulders forward, Ozzie rocked a few times to put himself back on his feet, and he packed up what was left of the medical supplies Brick had given him, “You want me back, you know where to find me.”

Fizzarolli’s head whipped around so fast his neck cracked, and he blinked a couple of times in rapid succession as he watched Ozzie sashay to the door. For a few seconds, he was torn between saying something and letting him go, and his hands twitched against his own arms. Eyes following him until he’d left the room, he listened for the other’s footsteps going down the stairs to the floor. A minute passed by, then two, then five, and Fizzarolli felt cold, alone, and stupidly irritated.

Irritated with the silence, irritated with those imps, irritated by Blitzo, irritated with himself…

Finally unraveling his arms from himself, he took the wet rag in his hand and kept wiping his face, notably rougher than Ozzie had been. Scrubbing at the dried blood felt better than acknowledging what he’d done because for a few minutes he just wanted to think less. Ozzie hadn’t done anything wrong, not really, but his head was pounding and he hadn’t really wanted to be fussed at or over. When it came down to it, he didn’t want to be pitied. Maybe that came from his background, but he’d been more and more offended the more he thought about it.

After Moxxie and his bitch (her name was lost to the annals of time, because fuck her, seriously) had left the club, Ozzie had been nothing but kind to him. Too kind, Fizzarolli’s pride reminded him again as he drug the soft fabric under his nose, flinching. Don’t look down, he encouraged himself, Don’t. Fucking. Do. It.

Not that he’d be able to keep his eyes off of the rag forever.

Hanging his legs over the edge of the desk, he let his feet just drop to the floor, only following them once they were secure. The tile nearly glowed, a dark blue with pale yellow grout reflecting the strip of light sunken into the wall near the ceiling, and he squinted as he crossed it. Rubbing the side of his head, he reached back with one arm to snag his ice pack off of the table as he rounded the large, white leather couch. Stepping straight up to the one-way mirror that made up the wall facing the main room of the club with the best vantage point in the place other than Ozzie’s balcony, he sighed.

Placing his free hand against the glass as he pressed the ice against his injury, he frowned as his eyes teared up a little bit. Sure, he’d been feeling pretty sour at first, only to end up acidic before he’d chased his lover out the damn door of his own damned establishment. That wasn’t a good look. Ozzie wouldn’t hold it against him, he didn’t think, but he didn’t quite know for sure, either. Their fights were few and far between, and for Ozzie to just duck out like that? It left him uneasy as he watched the elder flouncing towards the back of the club where the kitchen was with Brick, no doubt leaving the club through the large doors in the back. Whatever they were talking about looked serious, but he couldn’t read their lips from here, not from this angle.

Glancing back at the desk, he sucked in a deep breath, taking the space between the window, over the coffee table, and to the couch with two exaggerated strides. Curling up into a ball against the corner of the soft, malleable sofa, he sniffled a little bit, extending his arm once more to swipe his phone from the thick, heavy wooden escritoire. In under a minute, he unlocked his phone only to lock it again and repeat the motion because now it was the principle of the thing.

Ozzie would probably expect him to wait, to take some time to blow off steam, and ‘some time’ was definitely not ‘eight and a half minutes.’ Fizzarolli was miserable, from his aching head and bloody nose to the consequences of his own actions. He hadn’t meant to snap, but he was in pain, and he wasn’t thinking clearly. That didn’t mean that running down the stairs and leaping on the King of Lust’s back to beg him not to leave him at the club all night was the best course of action, here.

Most likely his lover was upset with him, too. Just because he was already ready to apologize already didn’t mean that Ozzie was ready to hear it.

Pinching his phone between his thumb and forefinger, he dropped it on the other side of the large divan, hiding his face in his knees. Tears. Crying. He was crying, and some part of him was begging to stop. You know better. This probably made him disgusting on top of being the asshole here, and he couldn’t stomach it. That only seemed to make him sob more, though he tried his best to stave it off if only for the sake of his head.

He didn’t know how long he’d sat there, or when he’d dozed off, but he had barely moved his face from his knees by the time the door to the office opened again. Too tired to even lift his head, he didn’t bother scenting the air or saying anything, just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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AN: Ope, that sure did happen, huh? I kind of like the idea that they’re at least a little co-dependent, they don’t like being without one another for a lot of reasons. I had so much fun on this one, honestly, I loved working on it. It wasn’t as long as the last two days were, but longer than I thought it would be. And look, one of the few fics that I have them in that didn’t turn into smut at least a little bit! I think that’s pretty rare, actually.

Prompt: 30 Days Of Fizzarozzie Day 14 - Arguing/Fighting

#Helluva Boss Fanfiic #Helluva Boss Fanfic #Fizzarozzie #Fizzmodeus #Helluva Boss Fizzarozzie #Helluva Boss Fizzmodeus

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coutelier · 10 months

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Irongate - Tenley Bear, Tenley Bear, Turn Around

~1800 Word Excerpt~

He inched along the top level, eyes darting side to side for any kind of movement. A green circle surrounded him but still he couldn’t see more than a few meters in any direction. So far quiet. He had a few spare glow sticks stuffed in his belt so dropped one over the rail, watching it tumble, briefly parting the inky darkness as it fell but there was no other movement. Ollie did not like this at all. Deciding to hurry there was still nothing, until he heard a rhyme:

‘Teddy bear, teddy bear,

Turn around.’

He did. His own foot shot out under him. For a second he hung in the air before, as a big man, he fell hard on his back, surrounded by scattered toys; cars, trains, a monkey clanging cymbals. The singing voice giggled:

‘Teddy bear, teddy bear,

Touch the ground!’

Ollie lumbered to his feet, whipping out his nightstick as he rumbled, “who’s there?! I ain’t playing any damn games! You mess with me I’ll snap your arms and legs like twigs!”

He had discerned that voice was inside the children’s clothing department. There were mannequins wearing princess dresses, Halloween costumes, a bear hoodie, but still and silent. Maybe they’d gotten scared and ran off.

‘Turn around.’

So no such luck. But they were hiding in here. By now he was sure he was dealing with a kid. Whether it was her, if she had come for him, it didn’t matter; now he was just pissed off. If he had to tear up everything in the store to get them he would.

‘Dance on your toes!’

Ollie caught a glimpse of a heel before it squashed his nose, spinning him around. In the very low light and with her face obscured by the bear hoodie he couldn’t see clearly his attacker; either a very small adult or a child. His instinct was to reach for her shoulder to grab her. She shifted, his hand catching only air, but she looped her own over his, locking it in a vice-like hold while balling her other fist to punch upwards. Ollie gargled in horror as with a crack his forearm bent. He was released, stumbling backwards out the store, wildly swinging the nightstick with his functioning arm. If it hit anything at all it had no affect. As he was just out the door she sprung, swinging from the frame, both feet cannoning into his chest.

It was so fast. Ollie knew he was falling, the nightstick flying from his hand. Instinct again took over, catching the rail so that he was dangling over the dark abyss, one leg just on the edge. His one good arm held on but he needed the other to pull himself back up and over. The only person nearby stepped into the pallid green glow around him, lowering her hoodie. It was her, but her eyes - black from lid to lid and without a glint of pity.

“Wa-w-w-wait!” He desperately yelped. “It wasn’t me! It was Pope! I swear I had no idea!”

The girl paused, tilting her head, considering. “The blond man?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah - he was the one! He just made us go along!”

“So tell me where he is.”

“I-I,” shit. If he betrayed Pope, Stag Corp, Meridiem, his life wouldn’t be worth living anyway. They’d crush him and everyone he knew. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

She glared a moment, then turned to pat the hand holding onto the rail. With her inhuman strength she unhooked the forefinger while chiming, “this little piggy went to market.”

“Wait, w-what are you-?” a snap and crunch, Ollie barely stifling s scream through his gritted, grinding teeth. “YOU CRAZY PSYCHO LITTLE BITCH!”

“This little piggy stayed at home,” after the next snap there was no stifling hos anguished cry echoing throughout the mall while she moved on to the next finger. “This little piggy-“ the remaining fingers slipped, Ollie plunging into the murk below. “Aww - I’m out of piggies.”

There was a fountain at the bottom of the mall. As Ollie it saw emerge from the darkness, knowing the water was about to mix with his blood, he stopped. Looking down or rather up, he saw a rope or vine coiling around his ankles, binding them together. As he dangled the girl seemed to glide in front of him, landing gently on her toes.

Spittle rained down as he screamed at her, “WHAT THE HELL KIND OF FREAK ARE YOU?!”

She turned to calmly look at him, observing, “you’re so high-strung.”

As the girl advanced on him brandishing a knife the reality set-in that he was at her mercy. “Wait, please,” Ollie gulped, “I-I have a family.”

The girl winced, pausing and turning her head away for a second, but only to return with a more determined glare. “I don’t. So you better tell me where the blond man is.”

“You’ll never get to him.”

“You sure?” She pressed the blade against his cheek, drawing just a tiny trickle of blood.

“Stag Corp!” He blurted. “He’s the Chief of Security at Stag Corp.”

“Stag Corp?”

“Big laboratory outside of town. All kinds of crazy shit in there, not to mention an army guarding the place.”

“Why did they kill my mother?”

“Alvin Stag just wanted the land. Your mom wouldn’t sell, so were sent to threaten her. Off the books. We didn’t think she would be so crazy.”

“Why?!” She repeated angrily. “There’s lots of land. Why did he need ours?”

“I’m just a grunt kid. I don’t know.”

“So you didn’t even ask? You just did what you were told?” She shook her head disgustedly at him.

“It’s just how the world works, kid. You don’t ever say no to men like that; they’ll get what they want, one way or another.”

“Then the world is wrong!”

“Maybe. But Stag Corp is part of Meridiem.”

“Meridiem?” She squinted, recalling one of their slogans, “’We are The Sun?’”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Ollie began to chuckle hysterically as more and more blood rushed to his head, “they own everything, kid; scientists, politicians, cops. You know what will happen if they catch you? They’ll dissect you. They’ll chop you up, rip out your heart and guts, and chop those into even smaller pieces then burn whatever’s left, and there’s no-one who can stop them!”

He continued laughing, shaking himself like zombie beef on a meat hook, until she leaned in close and repeated back just one word he’d said; “If.”

Ollie fell the rest of the way, splashing down in the fountain. When he crawled and pulled himself out the kid was still there at the edge of the glow, seemingly lost in thought. As his blood circulation returned to normal he saw that she was just a girl; alone, vulnerable. If she took off after Pope and Stag, he’d be punished for blabbing to her. There was pistol in his belt, and although it hurt he could move his fingers just enough to end this right now…

She spun about, the barbed end of her vine lashing out toward him. Ollie rocked slightly, blood gushing from his throat before he slumped forward.

‘These creatures will not thank you for sparing them,’ Titania had said. Tenley hated that she was right, spitting at the lifeless Ollie, “idiot; I was going to let you go.”

But there were others; she could hear footsteps outside. Maybe a dozen men and women pushed through the entrance to the mall, still some way from her but they began to spread out, searching. They’d also had the idea of carrying glow sticks. One of them - a man in a long beige coat - called out, “Oliver Harris?”

Tenley picked up the pistol as she silently slipped deeper into the mall, but it wasn’t long before the green glow around Ollie led them to him and she heard them calling, “lock down the exits! Killer could still be inside!”

She couldn’t go out the fire escape - she could see the warm glow of people behind those doors, but she couldn’t see a path through the ones already inside that wouldn’t result in being spotted. She didn’t want to fight anyone she didn’t have to; they didn’t know what was going on. A tiny squawk made her look up. The Magpie must have flown in through a window. That was the only way to go; up.

Someone called out that they’d found the other guard; the one she’d knocked out and tied in a cupboard. That briefly drew all the cops in that direction, as Tenley whipped Ebba catching and gripping the rail above then pulling her up. She rolled over the railing in front of a book store, gasping when she found herself face to face with familiar character. That Witch, with her curly red hair, stood wagging her finger next to a sign that read ‘You Wouldn’t Steal a Dragon’s Egg’.

To Tenley it felt like the disappointed frown was for very different reasons. She felt herself clenching her tiny fists, groaning, “y-you… you’re just a stupid children’s book!”

Thunder. A part of the witch’s hat flew off. There were panicked shouts and barks from below; seemed someone had spotted her and others were yelling at them to stop firing. Soon a bunch were bounding up the frozen escalator as Tenley, keeping low, hurried along the floor until she found a stairwell. Easily smashing open the doors she soon found herself out in the cool night air, silver moon light filling the sky in front of her. Unlike the Magpie that fluttered to safety she had no wings so hopped on a ledge to scan the street far below.

She raised the pistol as a policeman - the one in beige - burst out of the stairwell, his own gun pointed until he saw her.

“Woah, you,” he panted as he raised his hands, “you’re just a kid.”

“Well you must be a really good detective.”

A second policeman appeared, a little shorter wearing a hat and a black coat, and was also stunned that the one they’d been chasing was a child now standing on a ledge with the moon behind her. “Stay back!” Tenley barked agitatedly, pointing the pistol between them.

“Okay,” the first one, softening his voice as if he were talking to a wounded animal, “take it easy. You know if you pull the trigger, you’ll fall.”

It was dizzyingly high. Surely would hurt even for her, but, “I don’t care.”

The second policeman as if still not accepting it, “You murdered Benji Bhaskar and Oliver Harris?”

Tenley hadn’t known their names. She only heard Oliver from them when they entered the mall. She didn’t care. They didn’t deserve names. “They are the murderers!” She spat. “Them and Stag.”

“Okay,” the taller one said, “why don’t you just tell us what happened? Maybe we can help.”

“No,” Tenley sighed. It was too much to talk about. She didn’t know the right words to make sense of all of it. Besides, Oliver had said that Meridiem owned everything, including the police. “I don’t think you can,” she said, as the policemen rushed to try and catch her, she stepped off the ledge and vanished.

#writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #science fiction #irongate #wip #my wip #sci-fi & fantasy

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moogghost · 2 years

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11 pm time to think about my los and music i associate with them (going to be real this is. not really "telling" as to what my music taste is because hell if i know man but. if you see a pattern it is because it's what i've mostly been listening to atm </3)

overall songs for the losers - wicked (crusher) and down the river (the crane wives). the former bc these people are aware that they are not exactly Good or at least haven't done the greatest things both in terms of their initial two lives (pre-pmtok and pmtok events) but there is like. an attempt that they're trying to make to be better people. the latter is pretty accurate to either people they disliked in their pre-pmtok lives as well as towards olly to some extent since *gestures to the bottom of the lore iceberg i made*

jean-pierre - hmm. axolotl (cosmo sheldrake) but also in terms of with other members. two birds (regina spektor) w/ robin and dear fellow traveler (sea wolf) w/ taniel work very well (former is just. yeah and the latter is just. yeah these two are gay)

robin - if i said outside of the one song cele has w/ jean-pierre i've barely thought about any specific songs for celes would you believe me

holt - mmm everything moves (bronze radio return). it works when i think of the song in the context of xyr backstory

taniel - ship in a bottle (fin argus) because. yeah. it isn't even the fact that he's a pirate captain that made me go "yep this is a taniel song" it just. is very accurate to what part of his character is like. but also never love an anchor (the crane wives) very much fits part of his pre-pmtok backstory (sdfgh what i will elaborate is that. taniel did in fact get bitches prior to holt and jp. emphasis on past tense)

saxen - not the ghost (the crane wives). i mean the possession lore did effect her quite a bit but this is more of just. referring to her backstory in general. if going for ones w/ others though then allies or enemies (the crane wives) fits her and coda, curses (the crane wives) works for just stapscisspunch in general, and just for tonight (circusP) works for her and coda as well

lykos - arsonist's lullabye (hozier) works for Lore Reasons if i disregard the apparent meaning of the song to varying degrees

i don't really have set songs for the others yet that haven't already been stated alongside others sdsfgh. but uh. yes music <3 literally the only one i would consider doing anything with is taniel's but that is a stretch bc i will likely lose motivation very fast and i would have to learn new editing programs for that </3

#ghost whispers #ghost's los

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katutsukushii · 3 years

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ask game! “Happy” by Mitski

I haven’t finished listening to the song so I’m just going to say what the first like minute or so makes me think of.

This is in a quirkless universe, lets say dystopian or a crime related AU.

Anyways.

TW // death

Bakugou gets hurt. Stabbed or shot, but he doesn’t say anything to anyone, just waves them all off and the second they leave he throws himself down onto the chair in front of the fireplace. He grabs a glass and fills it with his favourite whiskey and lights his favourite cigarette.

He stares into the fire and waits to bleed out.

#character death #bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #jayrambles #jay answers #ask game #music #ollie-bottom-bitch

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aloera · 3 years

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i honestly dont know why people are getting so heated about bakugou’s hero name, because just think about the rest of 1-A’s names. we’ve got some absolute gems like;

Can’t Stop Twinkling

Pinky

Tailman

Sugarman

Tentacole

Earphone Jack

Grape Juice

Invisible Girl

and plenty of other pro heros with crappy names

and srsly, Invisible Girl?? like hagakure, youre a g, and i love you, but wheres the flavor?

idk what you mean by “invisible girl” idk her???? hagakure has not chosen her name yet because she is a being of great mystery and is Taking Her Time to figure out a name that is suitable for her talent and energy and general badassery

#i feel like the dynam*ght stuff has gone down so i will not be answering All of the asks i got on it cause. i am tired #nah but literally some of the hero names. rancid #my happy place is naming hagakure solar flare..........but i need to write that one to make sense. hate it here #prism is cute too!!! remember someone saying that n i liked it :D #the way i really ignored everyone else on this list- jgnsdkjg sorry a bitch has favs #bnha #aloeras asks #ollie-bottom-bitch

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trenchcoatkitten · 3 years

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dude y cant ppl j let u live. like tf?? ur havin a blast on here, and anon assholes r shitting on that, smh. i hope u hav a lovely day and that losers on tumblr stop bothering u. currently sending u positive thots <3

thank you 😭😭😭😭❤❤❤

#sami answers #youre so sweet #people are so dumb sometimes its just such. an oof.#thank you for the sweet message!!#ollie-bottom-bitch

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violettcowboyy · 3 years

Text

its a really great feeling when an author updates a story you love that you thought they abandoned

#ao3 gives me something to live for #do i read too much fanfiction?? none of your goddamn business #thank you ghost authors #you guys give me a boost of serotonin #🙈🙈#ollie rambles #ollie bottom bitch

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lumosinlove · 3 years

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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.

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puppypeter · 3 years

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✨ All fics are complete! ✨

He Loves Me Cause I’m Cute, He Thinks I’m Pretty Funny | 2588 words 📱

He watches it back one more time after it posts, checking for typos in his subtitles and captions, and has to laugh again.

Steve fucking Rogers? His brain thought he could pull Captain America, literal superhero and America’s favorite sweetheart?

“Hello I’m a 35 year old amputee living in New York and I think that I could get Steve Rogers.”

the one where bucky posts a tiktok and steve is utterly smitten.

Summer Slipped Us Underneath Her Tongue | 10712 words 🧳

Bucky is a tour guide who enjoys sharing the rich history and culture of each city they pass through with a bunch of early-20's college students who just want to know the cheapest place to get drunk.

Except for Steve, who asks Bucky for a personal tour around his hometown.

The rest is, as they say, history.

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet | 3853 words 🧑🏼‍🍳

“I made soda bread.” Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.” The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

Ollie Meets Bagel | 5517 words 🥯

He was a skater boy, Steve said let's get bagels, boy.

Steve wants to start doing this twenty-first century thing properly. He gets help in the form of skateboarding, skateboarders, bagels, and Sam Wilson.

Taxi | 5113 words 🚕

Bucky Barnes was, he hoped, a good taxi driver.

He's so good, he actually tries to return lost property that ends up left in his car and... well. It has some unexpected consequences involving a National Icon.

Enough said.

Leg Day | 12157 words 🏋️‍♂️

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Love In Aisle Four | 2127 words 🛍️

When Bucky needs to swing by the supermarket after a long, hard day of work, the last thing he expects is to meet a cute grocery clerk named Steve…

Coming Up Easy | 45515 words ✍🏻

“Listen, I was just thinking,” Steve says, his face open, eyebrows raised in a tentatively hopeful expression. “Why don’t you come stay at my place for a while? I’ve got an office that I barely use, and a change of scenery might do you good, right? Help you beat that writer’s block?” With a crooked smile, he adds, “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

While Bucky would normally crack a joke about how that’s exactly what a serial killer would say, right now, all he can do is blink at Steve in surprise, heart tripping over itself in his chest. Steve wants him to come and stay at his place. In Massachusetts. Just the two of them.

"Oh," Bucky croaks. "I- Wow."

“I mean, no pressure,” Steve says hastily. “Totally fine if you don’t wanna. I just thought I’d offer, in case it might help, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky ignores the little voice in his head that sounds an awful lot Nat and Becca, telling him he’s setting himself up for heartbreak. “I mean, if you’re sure, that would be amazing.”

Anywhere The Wind Blows | 8845 words 👨‍🚒🎖️

After a catastrophic fire that shakes him to his core, Steve Rogers quits his job as a Brooklyn firefighter and relocates to a cabin in the remote Canadian wilderness, wanting quiet and solitude and to maybe never have to speak to another human being ever again. He gets his wish, more or less, until a recently injured Bucky Barnes is discharged from the Army and rents the cabin next door.

The Safer Course | 7918 words | Part 1 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

When Steve moves to the suburbs in 2033, he intends to retire from superhero life.

He does not intend to fall in love with his pain-in-the-ass neighbor.

Every Year I Have You | 7064 words | Part 2 of Won’t You Be My Neighbor 🏡

Steve set the bar pretty high, as birthday presents go.

Bucky is determined to outdo him when July 4th comes around.

Beneath The Mistletoe | 21203 words 🎄

Bucky had a bet with his sister that if he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring home for Christmas by the time he was 25, he had to give her $200 and go blonde for a year. But now he's 25, it’s nearing December, and not only is Bucky as single as ever, but he’s also running low on cash. He doesn’t exactly want to bleach his hair, either.

At least Steve is willing to upgrade their relationship from best friends to fake boyfriends.

The Settler | 52203 words 🍞

“What do you want to do?”

Steve pauses and looks at them.

What he wants is to stay with them. He doesn't have any family left, they all died before he even joined the war and became... this. Captain America turned whatever he is now. But Natasha and Sam have become his family over the years. Not just because they're on the run together, fugitives and vigilantes, but way before that too.

He doesn't want to leave that.

But he knows that, realistically, he can't stay with them and they can't stay with him.

So he looks at them with a smile and lies. “I don't know.”

OR; In which Steve retires and finally finds a place to call home.

You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory | 1148 words 🐈

"Alright, Bucky," Steve slows his steps, watches his neighbour stop at the bottom of the next flight of stairs. There's a canvas bag in his hand that Steve didn't notice earlier, cream coloured with the figure of a sleeping, black cat painted on it. "Have a good day."

He thinks Bucky's cheeks pink up a bit right then and there, but Steve can't tell. He's too distracted by his pounding, foolish heart, by the way Bucky smiles bashfully, and ducks his head. The way he seems like he wants to stay.

To Believe In Tomorrow | 3959 words 👨🏻‍🌾

Bucky's mornings at the community garden get a little more interesting when the new guy shows up.

Maybe This Christmas | 24873 words | Part 1 of Maybe ❄️

Bucky’s not going home for Christmas. But it’s fine. He’s spending Christmas alone in his apartment, but it’s cool. He’s not feeling up to seeing his family after his accident anyway, plus he has to work. He’s totally fine with it. But then he runs into Steve, literally, and suddenly his Christmas isn’t looking so empty after all.

-----

Hurrying was a bad idea. Bucky’s foot hits a patch of ice and slides out from under him in what would have been a comical cartoon banana-peel-like trip, if it wasn’t happening to him, and he braces himself to hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

“Fuck,” Bucky screeches, but as he lands on his back, it’s not the cold hard concrete he expected, but a solid mass beneath him. Oh god, Bucky thinks as he realises he smacked into the person behind him and took them down with him.

Maybe This Year (Will Be Better Than Last) | 133868 words | Part 2 of Maybe ❄️

Last year, Bucky Barnes met Steve Rogers. Well actually, he slipped and fell on him. What followed was the best Christmas either of them had ever had. But what happens when Christmas is over and life returns to normal? What happens after the Christmas miracle?

-----

Bucky should have known. He did know. When things seem too good to be true, they usually are. And Steve is the best thing that has happened to him in a long time, possibly ever, so of course it couldn’t last.

Maybe This Time (I Hope I Get The Chance To Say Goodbye) | 34561 words | Part 3 of Maybe ❄️

Steve and Bucky Barnes are happily married. They've made it through some hard times and come out stronger and happier, together. Then Steve gets called on to come out of retirement for the most important mission of his life and everything changes. Everything.

-----

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas…” Steve starts singing along softly, and Bucky chuckles, before leaning his head onto Steve’s shoulder, always happy when he’s in Steve’s arms.

“From now on, our troubles will be miles away…” Bucky joins in.

Dancing round their living room, just as in love as ever, their troubles seem light-years away, if not non-existent.

Sadly, they’re closer than they think.

The Unexpected Gift | 9504 words | Part 1 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Steve Rogers is fine.

After ending a long-term relationship with Sam Wilson, Steve moves back to New York. He's tired and lonely but depressed? No. At least, that's what he thinks.

From the window of his apartment, he watches a dark-haired man and his service dog sitting in the park, wondering what his story is.

The Winter Storm | 2218 words | Part 2 of When Winter Comes 🐕

"If I could give you one thing in life, I would give you the ability you see yourself through my eyes, only then would you realize how special you are to me."

After Bucky and Steve confessed their feelings for each other, life has its own twisted way to challenge the most profound love.

One January Night | 4213 words | Part 3 of When Winter Comes 🐕

Before going back to work, Steve Rogers still has things to learn: 1- Depression is a bitch and the battle against it isn't an easy one. 2- Dating a person with disabilities comes with its share of challenges.

Bucky Barnes Has His Shit Together (And Other Lies He Tells Himself) | 14159 words 🔒

You’d think a guy who owns one of the most successful bakeries in Brooklyn, has a million-dollar smile and that antiquated good ol’ boy charm, blond hair and blue eyes and biceps for days, would know what’s what.

But don’t let that fool you: Steve Rogers is a mess.

Obvious | 917 words ☕

"Oh, I have a prompt! So, it makes me laugh how painfully obvious Steve and Bucky's feelings are to everyone when they're in that pining, slowburn, does-he-doesn't-he phase. But imagine Steve and Bucky working in a coffee shop together and constantly bickering, nudging and playfully flirting with each other. And all the employees and patrons are so invested in their relationship and just want them to kiss already but no one realizes that Steve and Bucky have been married since they got out of HS."

#stucky #steve rogers/bucky barnes #bucky barnes/steve rogers #stucky fics #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #stucky fic recs #stucky fics rec #stucky fics recs #stucky fan fiction #stucky fiction #stucky ao3 #stucky complete #stucky au #adorable stucky fics

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