Isocyanatess

pictures of buildings in the dark with one window glowing unnaturally bright. yeah <3

Babe I saw this post and I am requesting you please write the wolfstar idea you responded with because it's been stuck in my head since I saw this post

https://www.tumblr.com/lexxxrated/773973187421716480/sudden-thought-remuss-breeding-kink-goes-into?source=share

hahaha okay, since you asked so nicely.

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who have been trying for a baby [1.2k words]

CW: there's no actual smut in this fic but it is outwardly and explicitly discussed, mature themes, discussion about a stretch of time spent 'trying' & about it 'working', after care, mature themes - viewer discretion is advised

Sirius smiled around the spoon of ice cream he had just put in his mouth when he heard someone coming down the stairs; the sound of the gait told him it was undeniably Remus. 

“Godric’s fucking balls, Pads.” Remus hissed as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, clutching at his bare chest as he fought to catch his breath, though Sirius knew it wasn’t just his recent fright that had him desperate for air. 

Remus looked thoroughly debauched; his hair was in a right state, his chest (and shoulders and arms and probably his back, if he’d give Sirius a spin) were littered in red welts, scratches, various love bites, and-

“Merlin’s tits, is that a bite mark?!” He asked, using his now empty spoon to point at the juncture of Remus’ neck and shoulder. 

“What are you doing home so early?” Remus asked instead of responding, moving to the fridge to pour two glasses of cold water. 

”It’s nearly seven, Moons.” Sirius chuckled, smirking to himself when Remus’ movements froze, only just now seeming to realise how dark it had gotten outside. 

“I-”

“-have been fucking for hours, yeah.” Sirius finished his sentence for him, haughtily putting another spoonful of ice cream in his mouth and relishing in the hungry way Remus’ eyes tracked the movement. 

“How long have you been down here?” Remus finally asked, and Sirius pointed to the two plates of dinner under a stasis charm and his own, clean plate sitting in the drying rack after having been washed. “You didn’t want to join?”

Sirius’ responding smirk was nearly wicked. “Sounded like you had everything under control, Moons.” He started, watching Remus flush red from the tips of his ears down to his chest. “Multiple times, if I wasn’t mistaken. Besides, I have to admit I’m still quite sore from last night; I don’t know how Dolly’s putting up with you.”

“Merlin…” Remus groaned as he rubbed his hands down his face, only serving to make him look even more debauched; Sirius’ dick twitched in response. ”I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Luckily for the three of you, Sirius did. 

“Where’s our girlfriend?” Sirius asked as he put the lid back on the ice cream and moved to return it to the freezer. 

“Erm, I…ran her a bath, I came to grab her a glass of water.”

“Right, well, why don’t you sit and eat, and I’ll take over?” Sirius offered as he plucked the pitcher of water from Remus’ hand and procured you a glass. 

But Sirius should have known better than to expect Remus not to follow him up the stairs; as much as Moony loved to ravish you, he loved taking care of you even more. Aftercare was no exception. 

The bathroom was foggy with the amount of humidity your too-hot bath was creating, and Sirius knew then that Remus must be feeling particularly repentant for his obsession with you this week if he was willing to allow your blood pressure to skyrocket over it. 

“Hot enough for you, doll?” He asked as he walked in; Remus leaning against the door frame out of your field of view as he watched Sirius kneel beside the tub and rub a gentle knuckle over the high of your damp cheek.

“Hi Siri.” You greeted almost dopily, looking as though you’d been moments away from falling asleep. 

“How’re you doing?” He asked, pressing a kiss to your lips before sitting back on his heels to await your answer. 

“He’s insatiable,” you pouted theatrically, “I think I melted.”

“Mhm?” He offered noncommittally, running a thumb over your eyebrow as you blinked slowly. “And you turned poor Moony into a scratch post. Don’t think I didn’t do a thorough inspection, doll; I saw that bite mark.” 

You scrunched your eyes closed in embarrassment and sunk lower into the water, prompting Sirius to continue.

“I’d say you gave as good as you got.” 

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” You grumbled halfheartedly, and Sirius’ bark of laughter covered Remus’ snort from the doorway. 

“There are no sides, gorgeous. We’re all winning here.” He reminded you with a boop to your nose. “Besides, this is your fault.”

Your eyes opened at that, though only enough to narrow them at Sirius. “My fault?”

“Sure is.” He confirmed as he cupped some water in his hand and trickled it over your shoulder. “Wanna tell me what time of the month it is?” 

He watched your eyebrows furrow. “I’m…not on my period?” 

“Getting warmer.” He agreed, fighting to keep his face neutral when he noticed Remus’ head tilt in his periphery. 

“I’m…well, I-” water sloshed as you quickly sat up straight. “I’m not ovulating, am I!?”

Sirius laughed over at the door where Remus slapped his hand over his mouth in astonishment.

“He can’t smell that, can he?!” You continued. 

“Easy doll, easy.” Sirius laughed as he encouraged you to lean back down. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think he even realised he could.” 

“I’m so sorry, dove.” Remus insisted as he moved into the room to join you both. “Merlin, that’s sodding embarrassing.” 

“How’s it embarrassing?!” Sirius interjected. “We’ve been trying for months!”

“Well, yeah but the poor girl can hardly walk because I’m a fucking-”

“Oi, hey, stop.” Sirius stopped his line of thinking. “Relax Moons, alright? I think this might be the first time in a while that there hasn’t been any pressure to perform, yeah?” 

You and Remus shared a shy look before you both nodded reluctantly. 

“We’ve been working very hard, but this week hasn’t felt like work. I’m sure it’s going to pay off.”

The three of you sat in silence for a few moments before you splashed a bit of water at Sirius. 

“When did you become the voice of reason?”

“Voice of reason?” Remus scoffed incredulously. “You knew this whole time and weren’t going to say anything?”

“Why would I say anything? I was thoroughly enjoying myself.” Sirius offered easily, shooting the lycanthrope a wink. 

“Oh well,” Remus started sarcastically, “as long as you were enjoying yourself.”

“And you weren’t?” Sirius countered, and he watched Remus bite his cheek instead of gracing him with a response. Check mate. 

“Do you think it worked?” You murmured quietly, eyes far away as you fiddled with your bottom lip. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before Remus joined him at the edge of the tub. 

“Maybe.” Remus offered honestly. “But it’ll be alright if not, yeah?”

“Still worth it, yeah? I’d hardly consider it a sacrifice.” Sirius teased, gently rubbing his thumb along your lip to encourage you to leave it alone. He was rewarded with a sweet smile. 

“We’ve been in our heads a bit lately.” Remus allowed. “Felt good to just…”

“Very eloquent.” You deadpanned when words seemed to fail him, causing Remus to gently flick your knee. 

“Oi! That’s quite enough, Moons.” Sirius chided as he bodily shielded you from him. “I think you’ve put our girl through quite enough.”

“Put her through?” Remus repeated. “I thought you just said it was fun?”

“Out with you.” He dismissed instead of agreeing with him. “Go eat your dinner; leave our girl in my capable hands.”

And what was left of Remus’ playful chagrin simply melted away at that, sharing a knowing look with you before he stood to press a kiss to each of his partners’ hair and exited the bathroom; leaving you in Sirius’ capable hands.

nanami is a disciplined man, a creature of habit. he wakes up early, gets ready for work with precision, and leaves the house on time. but there is one part of his routine that he refuses to rush—those ten precious minutes before he has to leave, where he gets to hold you, kiss you, and remind you just how much he loves you.

this morning is no different. the alarm has gone off, but instead of getting up immediately, nanami rolls over, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you’re still half-asleep, curled up under the blankets, but you hum softly when his lips brush over your shoulder.

“i need to get up,” he murmurs, though he makes no effort to move away. his hand slides over your waist, warm and steady, pulling you closer.

“no,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep as you nuzzle against his chest. “stay.”

nanami exhales a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you know i can’t,” he says, though he sounds just as reluctant as you feel.

“you can,” you argue, tilting your head up so he has no choice but to kiss your lips next. he does, soft and lingering, as if you’ve got him under a spell. maybe you do. maybe you always have.

“ten minutes,” he whispers against your lips, a reminder for himself more than for you.

those ten minutes belong to you. they always do.

his hands wander, tracing over your back, memorizing the warmth of your skin. his lips press over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, before returning to your lips like he’s drawn to them. he whispers between kisses, voice low and reverent.

“i love you.”

kiss.

“i love you so much.”

kiss.

“you make it impossible to leave.”

another kiss, deeper this time, until he hears you sigh against him, fingers curling into his shirt like you’ll never let go.

“so don’t,” you plead, and nanami’s resolve wavers. it always does when it comes to you.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he groans, burying his face in your neck again. “if i call in, it’s your fault.”

“i’ll take full responsibility,” you promise, and he knows you’re smiling even with your eyes still closed.

he exhales, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips before finally—reluctantly—pulling away. “i’ll come home early,” he assures you, smoothing your hair. “and then i’ll make it up to you.”

“you’d better.” you mumble, already drifting back to sleep as he tucks you under the blankets.

nanami lingers at the door for a moment, watching you, memorizing you, before finally stepping out.

but even as he leaves, his heart stays with you.

The cats playground

Sorry, it's my headcanon, they're like cats... demon-cats, nothing more to say, bye

The ghoulettes would offer to kill people's exes in the bar bathroom. They would share lipgloss and hand cream while doing it. They're entirely serious.

Remus hitting his head under the table, for the third time

James: [points] are you sure about him?

Sirius:

Sirius: [points]

Regulus trying to set his homework on fire

James:

James: touché

was telling my therapist about how i've always used books, fanfic, and storytelling as escapism but now instead of me consuming stories, stories consume me. dalton gave me The Look (the one that means he's gonna say something i need to hear but don't want to) before asking, "you know that snake that eats itself?" to which i said, "yeah, ouroboros." and he replied, "i didn't know he had a name, that's cool. anyway, you're the snake. i know you've convinced yourself the consumption is filling, but it's not. when it's you you’re eating, it's destruction."

like yeah i know that’s not what the snake represents and ex-cowboy-turned-combat-vet-turned-trauma specialist dalton probably does not know the exact symbolism behind it but like. jesus christ man did that to lay me to waste at 10:30 on a wednesday morning.

and even though he hurt my feelings with the truth, it did put it into perspective for me.

it’s not levity’s lighthouse guiding me to port when depression’s darkness and anxiety’s turbulent waves make it difficult for me to sail smoothly on my voyage.

it’s not a way to alleviate my symptoms, it’s a manifestation of them.

it’s a compulsion, deceptively insidious when cloaked in distraction’s pseudo-warmth. when easily covered by procrastination’s much easier to swallow explanation.

and i’m sure you want to say “but reading is a healthy coping mechanism!”

and it is. when done in moderation.

it’s no longer coping when your screen time is 16 hours a day. when 12 of those hours a day are spent scuttling about ao3 on all fours. when you sit in the same spot on the couch for hours on end with your head buried in the sand. when it’s literally all you can think about.

the consumption isn’t coping. isn’t creation. isn’t reconstruction or rebirth or reformation. it’s chaos. it’s compulsion.

it’s cannibalism.

oh uh. scuse me. just a lil snail crossing your dash

Nikita Gill, from Your Heart is the Sea: Poems; "Your Heart is the Sea," originally published in 2018