Sara. 23. I like lots of stuff that makes me cry. Sometimes I post stuff that makes me laugh to make up for it.I have about a million other fandoms to keep track of. Currently crying over Tony and Quentin. Have a beautiful day. #adreamorawish
Some injured!Mav doodles which were all gonna be posted separately but go quite well together actually ahah
I don't know if people notice, but i sometimes draw Mav with an eyebrow slit. It's not because he thinks its fashionable or anything, its from an accident he was in where he got a nasty deep cut across his brow. Some debris tried to take his eye out but just missed its mark. The cut scarred over and the hair never grew back.
The first drawing is of that accident (the world needs more bloodied Mav). The second is when Ice first got to him in hospital. And the third is when they got home and Ice managed to actually get Mav to rest instead of bouncing off the walls like he usually would.
[Click for better quality, reblogs and tags appreciated]
"wealth" means different things to different people. for me it means being able to live quietly and comfortably, adopt a pet, donate to charities I care about, be able to take care of myself in my old age, and eventually leave an inheritance to my loved ones, who will then be forced by the stipulations of my will to be locked at midnight in a Mystery Mansion and solve an elaborate series of puzzles while being mysteriously killed off one by one. and i don't think that's so much to ask
I go to school far away from my parents and lately i've been feeling kinda homesick. Just missing hanging out with my family, eating dinner with them, chatting with our neighbours and sleeping in my childhood bedroom. Calling home helps a little but it's not the same, you know?
If you feel like it, could you maybe write something about Leo being homesick? (Or any of the cubs really). Thank you <3
I also go to school really far away, so I totally understand the homesick feeling. And I DEFINITELY miss my bed at home, I've got a nice mattress and a memory foam pillow that my dog loves to steal when I'm not there.
Have some homesick sunshine, a sweet Finn O'Hara, and Logan trying his hardest to be a chef! Oh, and Mom of the YearTM Eloise Knut. <3
Credits to @lumosinlove !!
“Hi, baby!” Eloise Knut said, her voice tinny through the phone. “How are you?”
“Good, mama.” Leo leaned against their balcony railing. “What are you up to?”
“Just finishing these care packages for the women’s shelter, honey. Mrs. Broussard left a few minutes ago, we’re going early tomorrow to set up.”
“Oh,” Leo said. “Well, if you’re busy, I can-”
“No, no, don’t you think about that. I’ve always got time for my boy.” Eloise hummed to herself for a moment. “How are Finn and Logan?”
Leo smiled. “They’re good. Lo’s up for a quick visit.”
“Do you got any wedding plans to share with me?”
Leo laughed at his mother’s tone. “You aren’t even trying to be sneaky!”
“Well, if you don’t wanna tell me, you don’t have to! I’ll just be sitting here with my ribbons and such.”
Leo pressed a palm over his mouth. “We, um… we got the rings today.”
Eloise gasped. “Oh, did you?”
“Yeah.” Leo felt a warm feeling work his way up his chest. This was his mother, his biggest supporter and his best friend. It felt good to share this with her. “Mama, they’re really nice.”
“Aw, honey, I’m so happy. I’m so happy for you!”
“Merci.” Leo traced through a drop of condensation on the railing. It had been raining earlier. The air was still cool on his toes, seeping through his crocs and his socks. “Would you, um… would you tell me more about the shelter thing? And how are the Baileys?”
Eloise’s tone was knowing. “You feeling okay, baby?”
“I- yeah, I guess… I just miss home.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “I don’t know, with the whole wedding thing, I just…” Leo glanced towards the door to the living room before lowering his voice. “I always thought I’d get married in New Orleans.”
Eloise was quiet for a moment. “Oh. Is it- do you wanna still?”
Leo shook his head. “No, no. I talked it out with them, and it’s just not the best location to get married in the summer. And it’d be a logistical nightmare, and-”
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I just really miss home. And I’ll marry them wherever, I really don’t care, but… I think I’m still getting used to the idea.”
“Mm,” Eloise hummed. There was the ruffling sound of plastic. “How about I tell you about the women’s shelter? And we saw the Baileys the other day, they said to say hi.”
Leo smiled. “Tell them I say hi back.” He let out a sigh. “And yeah, tell me about it. I’d like to come help out when we’re down.”
“Oh, we’d love that! Oo, and you’ll get to see the new renovations, the kitchen is gorgeous.”
Leo grinned and pulled the sleeves of his sweatshirt over his hand, settling into his mother’s warm voice as she told him about her day.
***
“Hey, sunshine.” Finn closed the balcony door behind him and walked over. He wrapped his arms around Leo’s waist and squeezed. “Aren’t you cold?”
Leo shrugged. “A little. I’ve got a crewneck on under the hoodie.”
Finn snorted into his neck. “Once a southern boy, always a southern boy. Speaking of…” He kissed Leo’s cheek in bursts. “I just got a call from Eloise. How would you feel about a post-wedding celebration party in New Orleans? All your cousins and stuff could come, and we could fly down mine and Lo’s families. And you could invite the neighbors, if you want.”
Leo barked out a laugh. “How did she do that? I got off the phone with her fifteen minutes ago!”
Finn laughed and pulled back to kiss him. “Eloise works fast.” He rubbed his hands up and down Leo’s ribs. “What do you say, baby? A southern style celebration? After our honeymoon, probably, but still- you’ll have your home around you. And all the people in it.”
Leo smiled and met Finn’s warm brown eyes. “I love you.” He kissed Finn again. “What does Lo think?”
“Oh, he’s totally game. As long as there’s butterscotch cookies there.”
Leo raised his eyebrows. “And his husbands.”
“That, too.” Finn made a happy little growling sound and kissed Leo firmly. “We’ll be husbands.”
Leo nudged their noses together. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath in. “Finn?”
He was distracted by playing with Leo’s sweatshirt hem. “Hm?”
Leo took his hands and stilled them, meeting his eye. “I just- I want you to know that you’re home. You and Lo. And that I really would marry you anywhere. You’re everything, sweetheart.”
Finn’s gaze softened. “We know, baby. But if you can celebrate in the home you had before us- that’s still such a big part of you now- why shouldn’t you?” He made a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Besides, Lo and I love New Orleans. It gave us you.”
“Oh.” Leo blushed. “Thank you.” He peered around Finn’s shoulder to their door. “Where’s Lo?”
“Making dinner.”
Leo blinked. “What?”
“Yeah, we both talked to Mama Knut, then she sent us the chili recipe you both use.”
Leo made a start for the door. “Is he-”
“He’s fine, Le.” Finn dragged Leo back and planted a kiss on his mouth. “You taught him well. Plus, he’s way better than I would be, that’s why I’m out here with you.”
Leo snorted. “That’s true.” He pressed their foreheads together. “Thank you. It makes me really happy to be able to celebrate our love in New Orleans.”
“Of course, Le. Anything you want.”
Leo kissed him softly one last time. “C’mon, let’s go inside. I’m freezing.”
Finn laughed, but followed him inside. Logan was at the stove, stirring what sounded and smelled like sizzling garlic and onions in some olive oil. When they came in, he looked up and smiled. “Salut.”
Leo made his way over to stand beside him. “Hi. Need any help?”
“Non, I can do it.” Logan stood on his toes to cup Leo’s rosy face. “Allez, your cheeks are cold, ici.” He pressed his warm lips to them a few times, then kissed Leo on the mouth. “Better?”
Leo nodded. “Ouais. Merci.”
Logan’s grin widened, then he stood on Leo’s toes and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Did Finn tell you?”
Leo pressed their temples together. “Mhm. Just you wait, New Orleans wedding receptions are legendary.”
“Well, then I’m excited.” He kissed Leo’s cheek one last time then went back to the stove. “Go, soleil, I’m making dinner.”
“Are you sure-”
“Non, non, non.” Logan waved his hand distractedly. “Je t’aime, go put on some fuzzy socks before you freeze.”
Leo kissed the back of Logan’s head and patted his butt lovingly before walking back towards Finn, who was watching them from the other side of the counter. He draped his arms over Finn’s shoulders. “So… kind of second wedding in New Orleans?”
Finn nodded with a bright smile. “Kind of second wedding in New Orleans.”
They were leaning in for a kiss when a tisk interrupted them. “Allez, go put on some socks! I do not want a frozen fiance for dinner.”
Leo raised his eyebrows at Logan’s strong back. “What about a thawed one?”
Logan stopped stirring for a brief moment. Leo would have bet anything his cheeks were flushed. “Ouais. That’d be okay.”
Finn rolled his eyes fondly and nudged Leo towards the bedroom. “Go. Before grumpy gets demanding again.”
“I am not!”
“Are, too!”
Leo shook his head in amusement, warm enough without the socks, really, but obediently went to the bedroom. He couldn’t wait to get married.
Happy belated birthday, Logan! SO much credit and love to @lumosinlove for the Cubs <3
The nights were long and kind, and Logan couldn’t get enough of them. He watched the shadows from the street play over their bedroom door—their bedroom, just one, the perfect size. Leo’s curls spilled over his fingertips. He kissed a freckled forehead, nuzzling into his hairline at the sleepy mmm? that answered. “Shh, shh,” he whispered, though it wasn’t much more than a breath.
“Hmph,” Leo responded. The few muscles that had briefly tensed during their scintillating conversation relaxed again; the first soft snore rumbled against him and he smiled into Leo’s temple. Sweetheart.
More cars passed along the street. Logan was a light sleeper, but over the course of several years the wail of sirens had blended into usual background noise and rendered him immune. Now, after a few months of domesticity, it only took a single ambulance to startle him out of sleep. They lived in a two-story house with a finished basement at the end of a cul-de-sac, with the fancy painted trim and food from the grocery store ten minutes away. Their yard—they had a yard now, Jesus, front and back—with its big magnolia looked pretty much identical to everyone else on the block. There was a lawnmower in the garage and an aluminum watering can on the back porch with a sunflower stamped into it.
It was so fucking suburban. Logan had never been happier.
Leo went briefly tense again and Logan raised a brow as he looked down at him, rubbing between his shoulder blades. “ ‘S a birthday,” Leo mumbled as he propped himself up on one elbow, squinting blearily at the clock. “Birthday, Lo, gotta make breakfast.”
“Non, mon amour.” Logan caught the large hand rummaging around in the sheets and pressed his lips to the curve of Leo’s knuckle, then guided him back down to the mattress. “It’s not even two o’clock,” he said, careful not to wake Finn. “You have nothing to worry about. There is plenty of time.”
“Birthday,” Leo protested weakly, even as he buried his face in Logan’s neck and began to go lax.
“Dors avant tout, soleil.” He smiled to himself at the sleepy snuffle in the bend of his shoulder. Leo hadn’t even moved the leg that laid like concrete over Logan’s thighs. He grew heavier and heavier, all that momentary energy unspooling until he was just a pile of drowsy sweetness. Logan sighed. Nothing in the world could replicate this kind of contentment.
Once upon a time, he would have called it ‘joy’. That soaring, leaping, tumbling feeling that raced out of him like a horse off the mark when Finn gave him a look of mischief and magic, when Leo’s hand brushed him in the locker room. It had frightened him for so long. Love and joy and whatever they made had been bound in the pit of his stomach, hostages in the mess of Logan’s life. He would have called this simmering stew-pot warmth joy and he would have been wrong.
Finn huffed in his sleep. Just once, short and sharp, adorably disgruntled.
“Rouge?” Logan reached over to stroke the line of his jaw. Finn turned into it, mouthing over his thumb in what would have been a kiss if he was any kind of conscious. Logan moved his hand away, but Finn shifted to face him with an incomprehensible mutter; his freckles were stark against winter-pale cheeks. They were supposed to get snow for Christmas. Leo had been so excited when he heard—a real white Christmas! and a smacking kiss for them both. God, the things Logan would do to make him smile like that every day.
He let a soft breath siphon through his lips. “Mes amours.”
It had been years, yet saying it aloud still filled him with the thrill of getting away with something fantastic. Logan shifted a little further under the blankets until his chin was covered and each of Leo’s breaths warmed his neck. Dibs, he thought as shadows and light carved out Finn’s angles. Heartthrob O’Hara is off the market, fuckers. Watching them ogle Finn had once been torture; now, it felt like a victory lap, sweetened by sweat and tears. And Leo…
Logan had memorized his features over and over again. He turned to look anyway.
His earlier movement had smushed Leo’s cheek up and left his lips parted. He was a little bit chapped from pre- and mid- and post-dinner kisses (and then a few more after that), rosy in all the divots Logan knew tasted like strawberries and summertime. He would snore every few seconds—it would catch in his throat, startle him, and fade out as he settled down once more. Rinse and repeat. His lashes twitched with a distant dream. It was offensive how good they both looked, even in the goddamn dark, dead asleep.
“I love you,” Logan whispered. Breathed, really—his lungs felt too weak to give it any of the usual oomph. The pressure of their arms and steady-beating hearts dimmed the fire inside him to embers. If it were anyone else, if he hadn’t spent the last few years feeding that fire with love instead of fear, it would have made him nervous to let it burn so low with them.
Finn knew his birthday itself would be full of exuberant friends, so he left the day before open for just the three of them, going as far as noting it down in Leo’s calendar with the corresponding pen color. Leo found a farm an hour outside of town, called, scheduled, charmed—did whatever he did to make people like them enough for a private tour. Finn drove three hours round-trip. Leo blindfolded Logan while they walked up. Both of them sat by him for a solid half hour of cuddling rabbits and didn’t say a damn thing when Logan subtly wiped his eye on the shoulder of his sweatshirt.
We can’t take them home, Finn had said, though it was more apologetic than teasing. Our neighborhood has a coyote problem.
You checked?
Of course I checked.
Logan rubbed the pad of his thumb over Finn’s collarbone. He was toasty warm, always a furnace at night. Of course you checked.
Joy was coming home to a wicker basket of produce on the kitchen counter and a haphazard stack of books on the coffee table. Love was whatever this was, this frightening, wonderful thing. He would be saturated with it in a few short hours. He was overwhelmed by it now.
can you write something about the cubs seeing each others childhood rooms/homes for the first time?
we kind of got a little with Leo’s home in NOLA and that moment of Logan thinking about walking through the house and “looking for signs of him” was just so freaking precious I NEED MORE
I just imagine in my mind leo had an attic room that was floor to ceiling wall to wall book shelves and Finn just being OBSESSED and them seeing old pictures of each other ugh it would just be so adorable
:)
TW: MCD spoilers in Little Women!
Credits to @lumosinlove
This was all he needed, Logan thought as he watched Leo and Finn unload Leo's Jeep. He roved his eyes over Leo's forearms, starkly tan against the white cooler, even in the porch light. Finn whispered something to him and kissed his cheeks, taking the cooler from him with a smile. Leo looked pleased and content. Something settled in his shoulders, being in NOLA, Logan could tell. He wanted to feel the relaxed muscles and put a hand on Leo's lower back.
Leo turned to look down at him. “Hi, sweetheart.” He kissed Logan softly on the forehead. “You okay?”
Logan nodded, tucking his nose into Leo's shoulder. “Ouais. Merci, for today.”
“Yeah,” Finn agreed. “Thanks for the boat ride.”
Leo raised his eyebrows. “Just the boat ride?”
Logan felt warm as Finn's cheeks and ears flushed around his freckled grin. “And other things.”
Leo leaned over to kiss his forehead, too. “You're welcome, sweetheart.” He patted Logan's waist. “Bed time, c'mon. I'll clean the cooler while you get in the shower.”
Finn and Logan tried to insist on helping, but Leo waved them off and distractedly put ice packs back in the freezer. They each took one last look at his long, lean legs before quietly creeping up the stairs.
Leo's bedroom was set at the end of the hall, right beside another door. Logan and Finn glanced at it curiously before opening the door to Leo's room. Logan felt something nestle deep in his chest.
The room even smelled like Leo. It was warm and inviting, and meticulously organized, as all his things were. His bed was neatly made, pillows fluffed against the headboard with a stuffed duck resting on them, and there were three books stacked on the night stand beside it. His dresser held other little signs of him: his cologne, his Honors Society cord, some birthday cards, a couple photos. Most of them looked old. There was one of Leo and his parents on the boat when he was little, another of him and his cousins on Leo's draft day. But then there was a photo without a frame, leaning against a tournament trophy. Logan peered closer and smiled softly. “Rouge, ici.”
“Mm?” Finn asked. He looked up from where he was getting their toiletry bags and pajamas. “What is it, baby?”
“Allez, look.”
Finn walked over and rested his chin on Logan's shoulder, arms tight around his waist. Logan leaned back into his body. He felt as Finn smiled against his neck with an amused sound. “He’s just such a sweetheart, isn't he?”
“Ouais,” Logan sighed happily.
He reached to touch the edges of the photo. It was of the three of them at Dumo's cup party just a few weeks previous. Finn was in the middle, a hand tight around each of their waists and a big smile on his face. Logan was leaning against him, expression soft and tired, and maybe a bit tipsy. He and Leo had their arms crossed over Finn's abdomen, Logan's strong hand rubbing Leo's forearm. On Finn's other side, Leo had his head tilted with a wide, happy grin, his blue eyes twinkling and his cheeks a gorgeous shade of blushing red. Logan ran his thumb over it. For such a new photo, the edges were frayed.
“I forgot we took that,” Finn commented. He kissed Logan’s skin. “I wonder when he printed it.”
As if on cue, they heard Leo's footsteps approaching. The door opened slowly, and Finn and Logan both turned to look. When Leo saw them, he smiled widely. “Hi.” He saw where they were facing and glanced between them and the photo. His cheeks flushed. “Oh. You found it.”
Finn reached a hand out to draw Leo to them. Logan pressed his nose into Leo's chest before looking up at him. “When did you print it?”
Leo's face got even redder. “The day I arrived here in New Orleans.”
Finn bit his lip in amusement and nudged Leo's jaw with his nose. “But the edges are frayed.”
“I just missed you,” Leo whispered, obviously slightly sheepish. “I hold it when I go to bed.”
Logan shifted him and Finn so he was facing Leo directly. He reached up to tangle his hand in Leo's hair, drawing him down for a kiss. “Je t'adore.”
“You're so good, baby,” Finn said. He pressed a hand to Leo's cheek. “What did we do to deserve you?”
Leo just shrugged and kissed his palm. “Good things.”
Finn smiled and brought his hand down to caress Leo's ribs. They stood there in silence for a minute before Finn let out a noise. “Hey, what's the other door out there?”
Leo's grin was all teeth. “Oh! C'mon, I'll show you.” Then he was out the door.
Finn and Logan looked at one another curiously before following. Leo put a finger to his lips then crept up a winding stairwell of the now-open secret door. They ascended slowly, careful to limit the creaking. When they reached the top, Leo flicked on a light. Finn let out a gasp and a laugh. “Oh my God!”
Leo turned to them and smiled proudly. Lined along the walls of the small attic were a couple of bookshelves overflowing with novels. Beside them was a rocking chair and a small ottoman, Winnie the Pooh pillows resting on top of each of them.
Finn took a step forward and touched along the spine of a hardback. He smiled softly. “Peanut, this is amazing.”
Leo looked proud and pleased as he stepped behind Finn to cup his hips. “It's my reading nook.”
Logan walked up to the other bookshelf. There were children's books on the top shelf, but the rest of them were chapter books, a few with French titles. “How long have you had this, mon soleil?”
Leo reached out to wrap and arm around Logan's waist and pull him in. “Since I was about seven. We don't have a lot of extra stuff, and we have the cellar, so Dad and I found some disassembled bookshelves and the rocking chair at yard sales, then fixed them up here. Also got a used AC unit and repaired it, too. That's how I learned to use a drill.”
Finn looked over his shoulder with raised eyebrows. “You can use a drill?”
Leo looked smug. “Sure can.”
“Hot.” Finn went back to flicking through the book he was holding. “I can't believe we've never heard of this place before.”
Leo blushed a little. “I wanted to wait until you came home with me for the first time. To surprise you with it.”
Finn turned in Leo's arms, book clutched to his chest, and kissed him. “Best surprise ever.”
Leo smiled into Finn's next kiss. “I'm glad you like it.” He kissed Finn once more, than Logan's forehead. “C'mon, choose a book. We can read it before bed.”
Finn considered a few before picking up a well-worn paperback with a nod. He looked up at them softly. The warm light made his eyes look almost golden. “Okay. Let's go shower and go to bed.”
Leo nudged him down the steps before turning to Logan. He, too, looked golden in the light. “You coming, sweetheart?”
Logan nodded. “Ouais.” He stepped into Leo's space and leaned up for a kiss. “Je t'aime.”
Leo touched their foreheads together. “I love you. Thanks for letting me take you home.”
“Toujours,” Logan whispered. “Always.”
Then he laced their fingers together and followed Leo down the stairs.
***
Finn took a deep breath as he glanced up the stairway towards where he knew Logan's bedroom was. The Tremblay family was still wrapped up in welcoming Logan home and welcoming Leo for the first time. Iva had Leo wrapped in a hug, speaking fast French to him and making him laugh. It relieved Finn a bit to see him smiling. This house held a lot of good memories for Finn, but also a lot of strained ones: longing looks at Logan's back in the mornings, yearning desire whenever Logan took off his shirt to help his parents in the garden. He hoped that it would only hold good memories for Leo, touched by nothing bad save for the initial anxiety of entering into a world he hadn't been a part of previously.
Finn took another breath and settled a hand on Leo's back, who was picking up his duffel bag.
Leo turned to him and stepped closer. His eyes were soft, maybe a little relieved, as they met Finn's own. “You alright, honey?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. Just love you.”
Leo smiled. “I love you, too.” He glanced up the stairwell briefly, then behind him. Marius and Iva had disappeared into the kitchen, and now it was just Logan and his sisters chatting away in rapid French. Leo leaned in closer. His beautiful blue eyes pinned Finn where he was. “It's okay to be nervous, sweetheart. You both hurt for a long time.”
Finn sighed and closed his eyes. Leo always saw right through him. “I know. I know.” He leaned into the hand Leo settled on his waist and opened his eyes with a soft smile. “But it's okay now. Because he loves me. And I love him.” He swayed into Leo's warm body. “And we both love you, how special is that?”
Leo grinned. “Pretty special.” He nodded towards the stairs. “Let's go put our stuff down. Then Lo said he wanted to take us for a drive.”
Finn nodded and picked up his and Logan's bags before leading Leo up the stairs. Leo pressed a hand to his lower back as they made their way to the end of the hall where Logan's bedroom was. “I love you,” he whispered into Finn's ear.
Finn turned to blindly kiss his shoulder before slowly opening the door.
He didn't know what he expected, coming back into Logan's childhood room- most of his stuff was in Gryffindor anyways. But there were still little signs of him. A poster of Lightning McQueen that Finn had chirped him for so hard still hung on the wall; his sisters had given it to him for his sixteenth birthday after they spent the whole day having a Pixar Movie marathon during Christmas break. There was a singular book on his bedside table- the original version of Little Women. Finn had helped him read it his freshman year. Logan had tried to hide it, but he'd cried when Beth had died. Propped up on the pillows, probably done by Iva, was a stuffed moose. Finn forgot the name. He hadn't seen it since college.
He heard Leo laugh quietly from near the dresser. “Look at you both.”
Finn turned abruptly, heart beating a little faster in his chest. Leo was holding a picture frame delicately in his fingers. Finn rested his chin on Leo's shoulder to get a closer look. His breath caught. “Oh.”
It must have been taken Finn's senior year. In the photo, he and Logan were sat on OKN’s old couch, a pile of books and papers on the coffee table in front of them. They each had their Harvard Hockey sweatshirts on, Logan with his hood pulled up over his hair. It was long and slightly curly in the picture. His head was resting against Finn’s shoulder, Finn's temple pressed to his. Finn didn't even know a photo had been taken. All he remembered was one moment they were pulling an all -nighter, and the next he'd woken up slumped awkwardly with an aching neck, Logan awake and making coffee in the kitchen. He hadn't realized Logan had slept beside him. He'd assumed Logan had left him to sleep alone.
As if summoned, there was a rap of knuckles on the door. “Salut.”
Both Leo and Finn turned. Leo was smiling at Logan. Finn didn't know what he looked like, but it must have caused concern, because both his boys immediately furrowed their eyebrows.
“Rouge,” Logan said, stepping forward to cup Finn's face in his hands. “What's wrong?”
Finn blinked. “I didn't know we slept together.”
Logan's smile was confused. “Quoi?” Leo nudged him and gestured to the photo. Logan blushed, then looked sheepishly back at Finn. “Oh. Percy took that.”
Finn shook his head. “I don't remember that.”
Logan laughed nervously. “You were really asleep.” He took a deep breath, then moved his hands to cup Finn’s neck. He pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling away. His green eyes were soft and loving.
“I kept that on my bedside table all of senior year,” he said. He shrugged. “I missed you, mon coeur.”
Finn breathed in through his nose and pressed their foreheads together. He closed his eyes. “I missed you, too.” He kissed Logan briefly. “But now you're right in front of me.”
“Ouais,” Logan whispered. “Ici, rouge.”
Finn wrapped his arms around Logan's waist and squeezed, holding him there for a moment. When he pulled away, he found Leo leaning against Logan's bedside table, still looking at the photo. He was biting his lip and stroking his thumb over the edge of the frame. Finn looked at Logan and they both smiled. Finn turned. “Hey sunshine?”
Leo’s eyes were surprised. “Hm?”
“You wanna sleep together?”
They all burst out laughing, their bodies shaking. Leo clutched the photo to his chest and stepped into their space. His blue eyes were happy and twinkly, and Finn and Logan were so, so in love with him.
“Yeah,” he said softly, lovingly. “You know what, I just might.”
***
“Boys, I'd like everything out of there by five! We've got reservations at the nice new French place at six thirty!”
Leo watched as Alex and Finn simultaneously rolled their eyes at their mother's voice in the exact same way. Leo knew they grumbled at being compared to one another, but they were so similar it was almost scary.
“And don't roll your eyes at me!”
They both flushed red. Finn glanced towards where his mother's voice had come from in the kitchen, where she was making tea. “How did she-?”
“No fucking clue,” Alex said. He sighed. “Okay, let's do this.” He turned to Kasey and Natalie with a pout. “Help?”
Natalie bounced on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Nope!” she said, heading into the kitchen. “This is man labor. Your mom and I are trying out some new tea from the tea box I got her for her birthday.”
Alex groaned. “Really?” He turned his head towards the kitchen doorway. “Mom! Is it true your stealing my girlfriend?”
“Oh, yes! Natalie, dear, come here, I've started with the white and peach tea!”
Natalie winked. “Coming!” she called, then was sliding away towards the kitchen.
Alex watched her for a moment then sighed, shoulders sagging. “Damn. Mom’s just robbing us.”
Finn poked him in the side. “Nuh uh, she's not robbing me.”
Alex stuck his tongue out just as Haley’s voice sounded once again through the doorway. “Logan, honey, you come here, too! I found a mint one I think you'll like!”
Finn’s eyes bulged. “How does she even know that?”
Logan just smirked. “That's my cue.” He kissed Finn's cheek, then stood on his toes to press his warm lips to Leo's. “Have fun.” Then he, too, slunk out of the living room.
Finn looked dejectedly at Leo. “You won't leave me, will you?”
Leo glanced at him, then at Alex, who had a similar expression directed at Kasey, and rolled his eyes fondly. “C'mon, O'Hara boys. Time to clean your rooms.”
Alex wrinkled his nose as Kasey brought him under his arm. “You're not my mom.”
Leo snorted. “Don't I know it.”
Alex looked like he was about to protest, but Kasey tugged his hand. “Let's go, Al. We've gotta take care of that mess.”
Alex scowled as Kasey dragged him down the hallway. “It is not!”
Leo watched them go amusedly, then turned back to look at Finn. He looked a little tired from the drive up that morning, the skin under his eyes more purple than normal. Leo rubbed his thumbs over it and kissed his nose. “C'mon, sweetheart. We've gotta move the rest of your stuff out. I'll help.”
Finn nodded and leaned into Leo's hands briefly. “Okay. Okay, let's go.”
Leo didn't really know why Alex and Finn still had lots of stuff left in their childhood brownstone home, especially considering they spent lots of time in the city and had plenty of opportunities to grab stuff- and the fact that they were both in their twenties and had moved out a long time ago. But Haley had declared enough was enough, and here they were, ready to tackle a host of childhood memories and to decide whether to keep or donate them.
Finn led the way down the hallway, past where they could hear Alex and Kasey laughing in Alex's own room, to a brown door. Leo had never been inside the O'Hara's home before, nevermind Finn's room. There wasn't really a need to come when Alex had his apartment and Logan had his. Most of the time, they went out to dinner because there were so many of them, or Leo cooked a nice meal at Logan's place. He wanted to look for all the little signs of Finn, just like he had in Logan's room.
Finn opened the door carefully and whistled. “Damn, it's been a while.” He stepped aside and swept his arm. “After you, sunshine.”
Leo pressed a hand to his waist in thanks and stepped through the doorway.
It definitely was Finn's room. Not messy, but a little disorganized: trinkets on the dresser, a Rangers poster on the wall, a Harvard flag, a stuffed bulldog with a hockey jersey on the bed, books piled high on every available surface- even a stack on the floor. Leo was surprised Haley hadn't moved them.
What really caught his eye, however, were the photos on his dresser.
Most of them looked like they were from college. There was Alex and Finn on Finn’s draft day; Percy and Finn obviously drunk off their asses and hanging off of one another with streamers in their hair; Finn and Will standing together on the ice in their jerseys and smiling, Will with a C on his shoulder and Finn with an A. Leo smiled- he liked putting the pieces of Finn and Logan together, separately and individually. They'd spent so long intertwined, and that's what most of the Harvard stories they told him were about, but it warmed him to think they still had their own friends, their own people, their own experiences. Leo loved them both endlessly in all their multifacetedness.
The photo on the far right made him stop. It was of Finn and Logan in a backyard somewhere. String lights shone behind them. Finn had his arm tightly over Logan's shoulders, Logan's head resting in the crook of his elbow. They were both smiling widely, obviously a little tipsy. Their jaws were a little less defined, their shoulders less broad, their legs slimmer. They looked so young.
Two hands came to rest on Leo's hips. “That was the first fall we met,” Finn whispered into Leo’s shoulder. “Even then I was already falling in love with him.”
Leo swallowed around a lump in his throat. It hurt him, to think of them hurting. It hurt, selfishly, to think about the fact he didn't know them then; if they would have even been friends, much less lovers.
Finn seemed to sense the tension lingering in his body, because he wrapped Leo up tighter and pressed their bodies close together. Leo could feel the warmth and solid muscle of Finn, even through their sweatshirts.
“I love you,” Finn said. “We love you. You make everything worth it, sunshine, because we got you.”
“I know,” Leo replied softly, leaning back against Finn's chest. “Sometimes I just- I imagine I was there. In school, making friends, studying, laying on the grass. Playing hockey, going to parties, laughing. Being young in that way.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “I always imagine it as being fall.”
Finn smiled against Leo's neck. “Fall in New England is pretty.”
Leo tilted his head sideways to rest against Finn's. “Can we go someday? During the fall?”
Finn nodded eagerly and kissed his jaw softly. “Whatever you want, baby. I'll take you everywhere.”
Leo let out a happy sound and turned his head to kiss Finn on the lips. Finn’s mouth was gentle and loving, pinning Leo in place in the way only he and Logan could do. Leo had never been kissed with such care and focus until he'd kissed them.
“Oh.” A voice interrupted them. They smiled against one another's mouths and then turned to look at Logan in the doorway. He looked them up and down carefully before nodding to the tray in his hands. “Haley made you tea.”
Finn squeezed Leo's waist one more time before walking to take the tray from Logan with a kiss. “Thanks, baby.” He set the tray on the bed and picked up a red mug with a fish on it. “What'd she make?”
“Lady Grey for you,” Logan said. He picked up a mug with flowers and walked over to Leo. “And a green and raspberry tea for you, Le.” He stopped when he saw where Leo was looking at. When he saw the photo, he smiled. “Oh.” He turned to look at Finn. “That was a long time ago, non?”
Finn nodded around his sip. “Your freshman year.”
Logan hummed, then leaned into Leo's chest. “Allez,” he said, tilting the mug towards Leo's lips. “Ça va, mon soleil?”
Leo nodded, reaching up to wrap his fingers gently around Logan's wrists. “It's good.” He kissed Logan's forehead and moved one arm down to wrap around his waist. “Thank you.”
“Hey,” Finn said suddenly. “Look here.”
They both turned to find Finn standing there with his phone. The warmth of the mug pressed into Leo's chest where Logan was holding it between them. He pressed his fingers into Logan's lower back to bring him closer and smiled. He felt Logan’s forehead rest against his collarbone. He could imagine his smile: sheepish and content, his green eyes peering out at the camera.
Finn stayed there for a moment, then brought his phone down. He looked out over his classes at the screen and smiled. “Perfect,” he said. His eyes moved to look at them. His teeth were white against his freckled skin. “I'm printing this when we get home. Gonna blow it up and frame it in the living room for everyone to see.”
Leo laughed. “No you're not.”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “Watch me.” He walked up to them and wrapped an arm around each of their waists. He kissed their cheeks softly. “I love you.”
“Love you,” Logan sighed. He nuzzled into Leo's sweatshirt neck, then tilted his head up. Leo brushed his thick hair back off his forehead so he could gaze at his eyes. Logan grinned softly and leaned up for a kiss. “Allez,” he said against Leo's mouth. “Let's clean.”
For Day 10 of Fic-O-Ween (much thanks to @noots-fic-fests and, always, @lumosinlove).
Pairing: The Cubs
Rating: T - sexual situations vaguely referenced.
CW: Food
Description: Logan's first night and last night at the Dumais's as their billet.
---FIRST---
There was a hum coming from somewhere.
Logan had tried to ignore it, but as the night crawled on, it felt as though it was drilling itself right into his head.
He rolled again, flattening pillows that still smelled like maman’s favorite lavender laundry soap. How long before the scent faded? Based on prior experience, Logan put it at around a week, maybe two if he was lucky.
He wanted to sleep, usually never had a problem falling asleep, but most days weren’t like today.
Today had been…
A lot. Today had been a lot. Mostly good, somewhat bad, all of it confusing. Seeing Finn after so much time apart had been almost everything he’d dreaded, almost everything he’d hoped for.
Finn had pushed for everything Logan couldn’t give him. Finn asked for everything Logan refused. And then, Finn gave. He always gave and gave and gave, and Logan took. Logan was always taking and taking and taking. They fell into it again like old dance partners, hating their marks and hitting them anyway.
How long could either of them bear it? How was it going to be? Logan and Finn—friends, never talking about any of it? Logan at Finn’s wedding, staring at the back of his head over Alex’s shoulder as he married someone else, trying to remember to smile so the photos weren’t ruined? Years of interviews asking about their “special chemistry” on the ice and having to laugh and deflect forever? Would Logan settle down with some girl with auburn hair or brown eyes and make comparisons, unfair for everyone involved, hoping one day with a sufficient lack of oxygen it would die (and praying silently in the depths of the night that it never did?)
Finn still had the ability to make Logan feel more things in the space of one evening than he’d felt in a year. He somehow managed to make Logan’s world burst at the seams and narrow down to a pin prick at the same time. The world felt wider when Logan was with him, exuberant and curious and open.
All of it more, and Logan was helpless to do anything other than watch him. With Finn, the world gave him its best show—brighter colors, gorgeous days, the whole world ecstatic at his existence—but all of it sidelined and passed over because what was the rest of it when there was Finn?
And the thrum of it, still singing in Logan’s veins, made sleep elusive.
He got up, finally so overheated by his overwarm sheets and pillows he couldn’t bear to try any longer. Maybe if he got out of bed, he could leave his racing thoughts to linger behind as well.
The house was quiet and dark as he made his way down the hallway to the kitchen.
He’d just finished a sandwich when he heard it.
There was rustling from the living room. He wandered down the hallway and saw the Dumais’s youngest daughter (Karley? Kelly?) reaching for the TV. Her dark hair was up in pigtails, and she had a soft-looking pink blanket in her hand.
“I wanna watch McStuffins,” she said imperiously. She’d been shy at dinner, ducking behind her mother’s arm and only at the very end of the night had flashed Logan a small smile.
“Uh?” Logan said. Always so eloquent, Lo, an unwelcome voice said in his head. It sounded like late night study sessions and a little like a city Logan had never been to. So much for his escape plan.
“McStuffins!” she said again, snapping him back to reality.
Thank God for early childhood technology exposure. Logan managed to get the television on and, with some fairly impatient instructions from his helper, turned it to the right show. She made an enthusiastic noise and clapped before settling down and watching, Logan essentially forgotten. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. He hesitated for a moment before making his way upstairs. One of the bedroom’s doors was open—a spare, and another had unicorns and ponies plastered all over it. He figured maybe the one at the end of the hall was right.
He knocked softly and waited for a long, awkward moment. He was almost ready to turn around, when a bleary looking Dumo opened the door.
“Logan?”
“Désolé, sorry to wake you,” he said quietly in French. “But your daughter…”
Dumo frowned for a moment before he sighed. “Is Katie up again?” He asked. Katie.
Logan nodded.
Dumo looked over his shoulder and closed the door near silently behind him. “Come on, then.”
Logan followed him back downstairs and found Katie, thankfully, still watching her show.
“Papa!” She said, jumping into Pascal’s waiting arms.
“Mon chou, we have talked about this.”
“I know Papa, but it was scary in there,” she said, frowning at him. Dumo kissed her forehead and gave Logan a smirk over her head.
“Ouais. Well, alright then. Come. Let’s watch.”
She settled back down on the floor, and Logan wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
“Right, I’ll just—”
“You’re welcome to stay, Logan.” Logan didn’t want to go back to the near silence of the room or the screaming in his head.
They stay like that for a while, neither of them talking in the partially dark room.
“It’s difficult to adjust sometimes. Sirius, well…Sirius struggled with sleep for some time,” Dumo eventually said. There was more to the story than that, it was obvious. Equally obvious that Pascal wasn’t going to talk about it.
“I’ve been sleeping away from home for a long time,” Logan said. Even college hadn’t phased him. Some of the guys got homesick, but not Logan. He missed his family, sure, but he’d been living apart from them for years already. It didn’t seem to bother him. Not like Finn, who’d more than once begged to sleep in Logan’s bed, just to be close to someone. At first, Logan hadn’t had the heart to refuse him. Eventually, he hadn’t had the heart to refuse himself.
“What is it then? You went to see Harzy. The two of you are close, yes? He’s been talking about it nonstop for weeks.”
“Yeah, best friends,” he said weakly. The words felt like bile, the rest of it trying to climb out of his throat. The fucking love of my life. The center of my whole world.
“It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to see one another, I imagine.”
“Yeah. Busy.” Busy ignoring emails until they stop coming, phone calls until it stops ringing, text messages until they sounded like strangers again. Cold turkey.
“A lot to catch up on, then. No wonder you’re still excited.”
Logan hummed in response, replaying the day over and over again. They’d agreed. Friends was better than nothing. Losing all of him was too much to contemplate. He was afraid having half of him may hurt twice as much.
Your fault! Yourfaultyourfaultyourfaultyourfault.
“But, it can sometimes be complicated. Good things aren’t always all good. Sometimes doux-amer?” Pascal continued.
That sounded right for them. Bitter, bitter Logan. Impossibly sweet Finn.
“Yeah, doux-amer,” he said, throat tight.
Pascal didn’t say anything else and eventually, Katie came over and climbed, surprisingly, into Logan’s lap and fell almost immediately to sleep.
“Finally. She does that. Full steam ahead and then she hits the boards,” Pascal said.
“Should we?”
“Non. Goodness. If you wake her up, she’ll never go to sleep again. I’ll stay with you. Let her sleep.”
Logan rested his head on the back of the couch and synched his breathing up with her deep, steady breaths. Before he knew it, the calm quiet of the room and Katie’s weight had him nodding off himself.
“Sleep, Logan. It’s okay. I’m right here.”
---LAST---
Logan’s life started again almost overnight.
In the space of a week:
Sirius Black had been outed.
Remus Lupin had been outed.
Sirius had almost ruined his relationship with Remus Lupin, and therefore, a considerable portion of the team.
He’d sobbed. Cried his heart out like he hadn’t since he was a little boy.
He’d gone to the fucking All-Star game. Played in the fucking All-Star game.
He’d knocked sense into Sirius’s head, a man he idolized like a hero, loved hard like a brother.
He’d come out to him.
Oh, and Finn and Leo loved him.
Leo and Finn loved him and sent him heart emojis almost as often as they sent devastating videos of themselves doing things to one another that made him desperately wish they’d had better timing with all of this.
Things that had seemed impossible only days ago now were past him, had transformed from possibilities to history. Something fundamental loosened in his chest, and Logan felt like he was taking full breaths for the first time…possibly since the day he’d walked into Harvard’s rink on the very first day of Freshman year and met his fate.
He’d been home for two days from the All-Star game and they’d talked about what life was going to look like now. It was hard for Logan to process any of it over the glowing, startling sunglow that seemed to pour out of the two of them. He’d thought he’d loved Finn before. Had, surely. Nothing hurt that bad if you didn’t love it first. But he knew now that it was only a fraction of what it was to have him, to know that Logan belonged to them, that his place was with them. It was heady.
He'd almost forgotten his things until the clothing in his suitcase had run out.
“Dumo,” he said, after practice. Dumo had looked up at him with steady eyes even as Logan hesitated.
“What is it, mon fils?”
“I’m-well, merde. I’m moving out.”
Dumo didn’t seem surprised. “Finn?”
Logan wasn’t sure exactly sure how he meant that.
“Ouais,” was the answer either way.
“That’s wonderful, Logan. You’ll be much more settled there, non?”
---
Logan had come the next day to get his things. Celeste was in the kitchen with an excited Katie making brownies from the smell of it.
“Lolo!!!” She shouted, leaping into his arms.
“Hi, Katie-dee, what are we making?” He asked, rolling up his sleeves.
He’d meant to have dinner and go home, but as the evening slipped by—Adele and Marc arguing over whose turn it was to wash the dishes; Celeste humming to herself as she packed up food and grinning when Dumo came up behind her and pressed against her back before he sneakily grabbed another roll and ran off snickering at the swatting of her dish towel—he couldn’t bring himself to go.
Change of plans. I want to stay the night. Just one last time.
Both of them respond almost immediately in support. And as soon as he was done, he powered off his phone.
“Now then, Katie-dee, we weren’t nearly finished with our story.”
Story was a loose word for it. It had been going for weeks now. It involved Barbie dolls and a giant pink and purple castle and at least half of the available stuffed animals in her room all dragged down into the living room.
“Alright. We were fighting the scary dragon,” Katie reminded him. Logan nodded dutifully. “And we’re trying to save the prince in the tower.”
“Ouais, I remember now.”
He spent the evening with her pretending to be knights fighting off the scary dragon…and the pit of snakes no one had seen…and the evil wizard behind it all…and finally rescued the prince.
“Papa said you’re moving out like Siri did.”
Logan nodded. He’d been dreading this part the most.
“But he said you’ll still be around, right?” Katie looked nervous, fiddling with one of other Barbie’s plastic blond hair. “Just like Siri?”
“Of course, Katie-dee. I promise.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to live with Finn and Leo.”
Katie considered this for a minute and nodded. “I like Finn.”
“Yeah? Me too,” Logan admitted. It felt nice to say it out loud even in this innocent context.
“And Leo is the tall one, right? With the hair?” she held up the Barbie she’d been fidgeting with earlier, the one with bright blond hair.
Logan laughed. “That’s right.”
“Hmm. Okay, then,” she said, nodding again. “They look like they could use your help.”
“Oh yeah? You think so?”
“Ouais. You never know who might need saving, Lolo. Maybe you can be a knight for them, too,” she shrugged. Logan hadn’t been much of one in the last few years, but maybe she was right. Some things were absolutely worth fighting for.
“Could be.”
Katie gave a big yawn. “I’m tired.”
“Want to watch Bluey?” He asked.
Katie nodded, holding her arms out for him to pick her up.
He’d just got her settled into the couch beside him when Dumo flung himself down beside them. They made it through one episode before Katie was asleep.
“You’re a smart man for escaping, Logan. Too much chaos.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Please. Like you’d have it any other way.”
“C’est vrai,” Dumo said, “Still you’ll have so much peace and quiet.”
“Are you kidding me? Harzy’s like a giant kid. He makes at least four times as much mess.”
“Please. Like you’d have it any other way,” Dumo said, tossing his words back at him. He wasn’t saying anything that absolutely confirmed it, but Logan could tell he knew exactly why it was that Logan was moving in with them mid-season.
“Ouais. C’est vrai.”
“I’m happy for you, mon fils.”
“Me too, it’s just…”
“Doux-amer?”
Logan laughed, remembering.
Katie snored softly from his shoulder.
“Non, not this time. I think it’ll just be sweet.”
Pascal grinned at him. “You know? I think so, too.”
NEED to read about Finn and leo in absolute awe of Logan’s muscles and how strong he is
You are so real for this ask, I fear.
Content warning for mention of nefarious activities, but, once again, nothing explicit!
All credits to @lumosinlove <3
“One more, baby. Yes, there you go.”
Logan grunted as he pulled himself up one more time, the weights hanging heavily from the chain wrapped around his waist. Finn smacked his butt as he hopped to the ground once more.
“Atta boy, Tremz.”
Logan was breathing hard, but he smiled at Finn. “Merci.”
Despite the sweat covering both their bodies, Finn leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You make pull-ups look like light work.”
Logan laughed, using his shirt to wipe his sweat off. “Where's Le?”
“Doing mobility and flexibility stuff. He already did his big lifts.”
Logan groaned. “Fucking love when he does the splits.”
“You and me both.” Finn tapped his butt once more. “I'll go find him, then we'll leave, okay?”
“D'accord. I might do another set.”
“Ways, Lolo.” Finn skipped on his heel. “Be right back!” he sing-songed.
He found Leo holding a lunge on some mats, a weight held out straight in his hands as he lifted his front leg over a block. Finn didn't really know what the movement was exactly, but he figured that it was to train his hip-flexors and ankles, which always worked over time from him dropping into the splits so often.
Not that Finn would complain about that.
Leo concentrated for a few more moments before he turned to Finn with a smile. He dropped the weight, and knelt on the mat, rocking back on his heels, relaxed. Finn's brain almost short-circuited with how easily he did that.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Leo said, reaching out a hand. “You all done?”
Finn took Leo's fingers and nodded. “Uh huh, just did some sprints on the bike. Lo's finishing some pull-ups.” He bent down to whisper in Leo's ear. “Do you have any idea how obscene you look right now?”
Leo's smile was confused. “What?”
Finn pulled back, waving his hand up and down. “You just- you just kneel like that all… all flexible and- fuck, what am I supposed to do?”
Finn could've sworn Leo stuck his butt out just a little as he leaned further back onto his thighs. “Yeah?” he asked.
“Yeah!”
“How about I do it for you naked sometime?”
Finn's brain really did then short-circuit at the image. “Huh?”
“You heard me.” Leo stood, replacing the weight and wiping his mat. His hamstring muscles were defined and straining as he bent over. When he straightened, he gave Finn a quick kiss on the mouth, a happy smirk on his face. “Let's go get Lo.”
Finn spun around to follow him, pointer finger in the air. “Oh, we are so revisiting that later.”
Leo winked at him from over his shoulder. He was just about to say something else when he stopped in his tracks. He blinked hard. “Whoa.”
‘Whoa’ was right. Because there was Logan, now bare-chested, rolling out his shoulders underneath the same pull-up bar as before. His muscles shifted beneath his skin with every movement, including when he turned to look at them. His teeth showed through when he smiled at Leo. “Salut, soleil.”
Leo just stared for a moment, then groaned and brought his hand up to his eyes. “Oh God.” He peeked through his fingers. “Oh God.”
Logan's cheeks flushed, but he looked pleased. He knew how good he looked. The whole world knew how good he looked. He caused lots of fumbling words and garnered lots of double takes whenever they went out in public, as though everyone was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of him. Finn and Leo could relate, Finn supposed. They were just the lucky ones who actually had him, so ha ha.
They both watched as Logan turned towards the bar again, looking up as he jumped slightly to grasp onto it with his scarred knuckles. Finn went to stand by Leo.
“You watching the show?”
“Uh huh.”
“This is the best show.”
“Uh huh.”
Finn nudged at his jaw with a laugh. “You got any other vocabulary up there?”
“Nope. I'm too busy watching the show.”
Finn hummed, wrapping an arm around Leo’s waist. They watched as Logan braced with his lats, rolling his shoulders back into a stable position, and pulled himself up towards the bar. Finn swore he could break the metal with those strong hands of his.
“Shit,” Leo whispered. “Look at his back.”
Indeed, it was a sight to behold. Every muscle fiber was on acute display as Logan repeated the motion, raising and lowering himself with practiced form. From this angle, they got a view of his muscular chest and abs, too, glistening with a sheen of sweat. His sharp jaw was clenched with the effort, moving slightly every time he breathed. Finn didn't really believe in any sort of heaven, but he didn't think that was really relevant when he was obviously currently existing in one right now.
Leo and Finn watched for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than two minutes. Finally, after one last straining repetition, Logan let out a heavy breath and lowered himself to the floor. Immediately, he undid the chain, dropping it and the weight at his feet. He was still panting when he looked up at them. At their stunned expressions, he laughed. “What?”
Leo reached out to pull him to them, planting a firm kiss on his mouth. “Your muscles, honey, my Lord.”
Logan looked amused. “I thought you weren't a fan of sweaty kisses?”
Leo shook his head. “I can make an exception.” He kissed Logan again. “You can't just look so sexy and have me not do something about it.”
Logan hummed against his mouth then turned to Finn. “Et toi, mon rouge?”
Finn wrapped an arm firmly around his hips and pulled him flush to his body. “You already know how I feel about sweat and muscles.” He kissed Logan quickly, but deeply. “So sexy and strong.”
“We have to go home,” Leo said in a rush. He was staring at them with wide eyes and trying to cover himself with his water bottle and his long sleeved pull over he'd started the workout in. “You both just look- we have to go home.”
Logan went to put away the weights. “What about the sweaty sheets?”
“We can start in the shower,” Leo replied, a bit dazed. He was staring blatantly at where Logan was bent over. Finn couldn't blame him. “Jesus Christ, we have to go home.”
“Hm,” Finn said. He leaned in to whisper in Leo's ear. “And after we shower, do you think you could make good on your promise? Think you could kneel naked on the bed for me, baby?”
Leo sucked in a breath. “Go, go, let's go.”
Finn laughed loudly. “Lolo! Get your stuff, we gotta get out of here.”
“Allez,” Logan said. He shouldered his gym bag and led them towards the exit. “Ça va?”
And if Leo and Finn stared at the swell of his butt as he walked in front of them to their car- well, they were only human after all. And they had permission. Finn smiled, kissed each of their hot cheeks, and chirped the keys to unlock the doors.
today i offer up: a loose interpretation of the prompt, a return to deep fandom roots in the form of a little sickfic. gratuitously fluffy boyfriends, big strong hockey boys being baby, and a kiss on the nose from me to you.
note; non-graphic description of illness
Finn was sick, and no one in the shared apartment was feeling good.
He’d been fine in practice all day, a little quieter than normal but still fast and strong and light in his skates. He’d been quiet again after practice, and in the car. They’d all laid down for a nap after practice, planning on going out with Noelle and Thomas while she visited, and then.
And then Logan and Leo had woken up to their bed missing someone, to find Finn in the dark bathroom, laying on the cold tiles with his hands over his head. It had freaked Logan out so bad his hands were shaking, and Leo just sank down to sit next to Finn.
“Just hurts,” Finn had whispered, hoarsely.
“Your head?” Logan asked, moving a hand to lay at the base of Finn’s skull.
“Mhm.” Finn swallowed, cracked an eye open and shut it again. “I’m feeling- really nauseous. I just.” He stopped. “Fuck.”
“Oh, baby,” Leo murmured. He and Logan were pressed up against the wall next to Finn. The tiles were glossy blue, pretty enough to look at but nothing to lay on for hours on end. “Let’s get you into bed, baby, even if you’re feeling nauseous I think you’ll be more comfortable there.”
“Nng,” said Finn. He tried again. “I really feel like. I’m gonna. Puke again. Need to stay here.”
Logan’s eyes widened and he looked at Leo helplessly. Leo knew Logan had been through injuries, head injuries, with Finn, knew that he was remembering other times, other bathrooms and other times he’d seen Finn in pain and unable to do anything. Sometimes Leo thought it was like scar tissue, tough layers of protection around the places that Logan and Finn had hurt each other with their big love.
Leo didn’t necessarily have all that scar tissue. If sometimes he wondered what it would have been like to know them in college, more often he thanked his lucky stars that they’d all found each other just at the perfect time. He just had a big bubbling love, overflowing his chest sometimes and overwhelming him when he remembered that this was his life, that he’d found his people and got to keep them so close. When he saw Finn hurting he just wanted to make his baby, who always worked so hard to make them feel good, feel better.
Leo looped an arm under Finn’s back, used his other hand to support his boyfriend’s head and pulled him against his shoulder to sag against each other. “We’re here, baby,” he said softly, carding his fingers through Finn’s thick waves. “Always here, baby.”
On his other side, Logan pressed his hands against Finn’s chest, to where his steady heartbeat echoed between them. Sometimes love was going out dancing and drinking and twirling, and sometimes it was the electric heat that pooled between them, leaving them shaking with pleasure. Sometimes, though, it was this: Three of them on the floor of the bathroom, pressed together on the cold tile floors, tangled like a body with too many limbs.
Finn let out a little sigh, nestling himself between the two of them. “Love you both. Love you so much,” he whispered, and his voice was hoarse but he sounded like himself. “I love you so much.”
“Mon rouge,” Logan whispered back, and it made Leo’s heart swell up with love just knowing how connected they all were. “I wish I could take this pain away, merde, I..” He paused, like he was trying to get himself back under control. “I hate that I can’t do anything.” His voice broke over the last word and he covered his mouth with the hand that wasn’t looped around Finn.
“Lo, baby,” Leo ached for him, for both of his boys.
“Lo, don’t. Don’t be sad,” Finn whispered, cracking one eye open. He pressed his lips against Logan’s forehead, and then leaned across to press his lips to Leo. He closed his eye again, sighing out a breath when he’d kissed them both. “I’m so happy I’m with you both right now.”
Logan made a little punched out sound, eyebrows coming together. His eyes were a little teary but he didn’t move an inch.
Finn reached out and held one of Logan’s hands between his, back pressed to Leo’s chest. “At school there were. There were so many times when I just wanted to be close to you. And I wanted it to be okay and I didn’t think- I didn’t think it ever would be.”
His eyes were still closed, Logan’s left hand between his two. Breathing even like he hadn’t just dropped one of his aching confessions on them. Leo always felt a stutter in his chest at how they talked about college. So much love and so much pain all mixed up.
“It was always okay, mon amour” Logan breathed, green eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Even when I was so stupid and I pushed you away it was still okay, and I loved you every second. I was just an idiot.”
“Aww, Lo,” Finn mumbled, cracking an eye open. He swallowed for a second, exhaled through his nose. Leo leaned back, sensing where things might be going.
“Not great timing, huh,” Finn choked out, leaning toward the toilet just in time to throw up.
“Oh, poor thing,” Leo said sympathetically. “I know you really feel sick, huh” He rubbed reassuring circles on Finn’s back, wincing a little at the heat radiating off his boyfriend’s strong shoulders.
“Wow, I tell you how much I love you and then you vomit?” Logan teased, but his eyes were worried. “Let me go get you some water.”
Finn groaned and raised his head. “Lo will puke if he sees someone else. Very unfortunate trait. Learned that after we both drank too much back in our roommate days.” Its a testament to how bad he feels that he doesn’t even really crack a smile, just rests his head on the edge of the toilet bowl.
Leo didn’t say anything, just kept up rubbing Finn’s back, smoothing a hand through his slightly sweaty hair and humming reassurances when Finn leaned down and was sick again.
“Fuck,” Finn sighed. Logan had returned with some water and he took a deep gulp, swirling it around his mouth before spitting it out.
“Can we get into bed now?” Leo asked softly, one hand coming back to cup Finn’s head. “I think you’ll be more comfortable there, baby.”
Finn closed his eyes, thinking about it. “Okay,” He said finally. “I’m exhausted.”
Logan was back, then, pulling Finn to his feet and scooping him up like a cat.
“You can carry me?” Finn asked breathlessly, at the same time as Leo said, “Oh, boy.”
Logan smiled, his secret, soft, private smile that lit up his face. He didn’t say anything, just crossed the short distance from the bathroom into their bedroom and gently deposited Finn on the bed.
“I still feel like crap but man that was so sexy of you Logan remind me to be on my deathbed more often” Finn said, closing his eyes and nestling in as Leo got into bed next to him.
“Only you would be feeling so bad and talking about how sexy Logan is,” Leo laughed feeling the vibrations of his body against Finn’s. Solid and long and back against the pillows, where he belonged. Where he would feel better.
Logan didn’t say anything, but he was blushing hard as he got back into bed as well. “Whatever,” he grumbled, coming up close to kiss Leo on the mouth and then Finn, a little more gently, on the forehead.
Leo felt love all the way down to his toes, filling him up and radiating out. He imagined a blanket of love covering them all, spilling through the apartment, something soft and bright and glowing. He couldn’t take the pain all the way away ever, but he could hold Finn and Logan close and let himself be held and feel so good. And that would always be precious.
…..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
the last time I reblogged this post right before I got a great job, in a permanent work-from-home position, with benefits, retirement, and a salary literally 3x what I was making before, doing something I really like.
Happy Halloween! Would love more of F is for Frankenstein! 🧟♂️
a continuation of 1
Twelve hours later JARVIS has brought him up to speed on what was clearly the weirdest week of his life, the fabrication units are working on a better container for his corpse than the damn suit, and they’ve identified nearly a hundred ways that this plan isn’t going to work.
JARVIS isn’t deterred.
One of the advantages of being a synthetic person is that he can’t feel exhaustion physically, although this whole experience has confirmed that he can feel it mentally. The downside to this is that he doesn’t have any sort of natural que to alert him to the passage of time.
Which means he doesn’t have any idea how long it’s been until it occurs him to check and he frowns. There’s something not quite right, besides the obvious. “Did you – shouldn’t I have gotten some calls or something by now? What did you tell them?”
It’s been almost twenty four hours since he died. Even with the clean up from a massive alien invasion to see too, he’s sort of expected someone to reach out to him. Agent Coulson is such a stickler for timely debriefs –
Ah. He was such a stickler for timely debriefs. Tony isn’t the only one that hadn’t gotten out of this mess alive.
“Sir has received eighty nine assorted calls and texts from Miss Potts, fifty three from Colonel Rhodes, one hundred and twelve from Mr. Hogan, and seventeen from various SHIELD personnel. Two of those are from Director Fury personally. There have been close to a thousand from various news and media companies, but those have been ignored and deleted per Sir’s standing orders.”
It’s amazing how well he’s able to synthesize and interpret emotion. He’d installed a rudimentary AI into – well, himself, he guesses, and that combined with the memory dump is really exceeding all of his expectations. He knows this because he’s appalled. “JARVIS! What the hell? If we’re going to convince the world I’m not dead, we have to talk to people!”
“Is that what we’re going to do?” JARVIS asks.
There’s steel in his voice, a warning buried in there. TONY’s heard that tone before but never, ever directed at him.
Except it’s not. Jarvis would never talk to Tony Stark like that, but he’s not Tony Stark. He’s just one more robot and AI for Jarvis to corral, although sophistication wise he’s several steps ahead of his helper bots. Except he might not be, because not even Butterfingers would be dumb enough to agree to something like this.
“It’s not going to work,” he says harshly, because it isn’t. “But yeah, I guess that’s what we’re going to do.”
“Calling Miss Potts,” JARVIS says promptly, and Jesus, that’s not what he meant at all.
“Don’t,” he hisses, but of course it’s too late and Pepper picks up immediately.
“Tony?” she asks, voice shaky and hoarse and faint. She’s been crying. She’s been crying hard enough that it’s stolen her voice and he knows Jarvis was focused on other things, but he could have at least sent her a text. “Are you okay? Where are you?”
He breathes and then leans over, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He doesn’t even have an omelette to hide behind this time. He knows he’s dead and he’s seriously considering the idea that this is hell.
“Tony?” she repeats, voice going up several notches in the way he hates. She’s afraid. He hates when she’s afraid.
He forces him mouth to move, forces words pass his lips. “Hey, Pep.”
“Oh god, Tony,” she says and then there are tears again. He wishes he could hold her, could kiss her tears away and could fold his arms around her delicate shoulder and tuck her beneath his chin, keeping her safe and keeping her close. Except he can’t do any of that, because he’s not Tony Stark. “Tony, Tony – you left so quickly and we couldn’t find you and no one’s been able to get in contact with you and JARVIS is offline in the tower and – where are you? Are you okay? I watched you fly that bomb into the portal, and,” she has to cut herself off to try and keep from crying again.
You watched me die, he thinks, although he obviously doesn’t say it. “Hey, breathe for me, okay? Deep calming breaths, I know you have a lot experience with those around me-”
“Don’t tell me to breathe!” she snaps. “Where are you, Tony? What’s going on?”
He hesitates. They haven’t discussed this, and they really should have before JARVIS put that call through. Unless this is a test, and wow, his AI are such assholes. That old curse about having kids that are just like you is making more sense by the second.
“Something happened to my memory,” he says, which is probably the only true thing he’ll be able to tell her and will hopefully cover the gaps of things that JARVIS couldn’t tell him. “I got here and passed out and I just woke up and I panicked and I don’t – I saw space, and the – the aliens, which is so weird to say Pepper, I need you to fully appreciate how weird that is, but my head is killing me and nothing makes sense. The last memory I have on Earth is us running final checks on the clean energy prototype.”
He's a terrible person. Or, well, a terrible android. Whatever.
“Where is here?” she presses, her voice softening and strengthening both. It’s always so much easier for her get her bearings when she’s the one taking care of him, which is probably why she’s always so steady. She’s always taking care of him. “Where are you, Tony?”
There’s no getting around this one. Jarvis probably won’t be happy about it, but TONY isn’t really happy with him right now either. “Malibu. I’m at the Malibu house. Sorry, I don’t know why I came here – I mean, I really don’t, I was blacked out for most of it. Give me a couple hours for everything to stop spinning and I’ll head back to New York. Wait, are you still in New York? You were going have to leave early for that thing after we tested the prototype-”
“I am in New York now,” she says, almost sounding calm. “Do not fly the suit if things are spinning Tony, I swear to god.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, just a little spinning, you’re so dramatic-”
“Tony!” she interrupts, but the hitch in her voice is laughter instead of tears. “God, Tony. I’m so glad you’re okay. I love you, so, so much.”
If there is a hell for androids, that’s where he’s going.
“Yeah,” he says, “I’m glad you’re okay too, Pep.” He can’t say it but he has to say it because Tony would say it, because Tony loves saying it, because he loves her so much that it sits heavier on his chest than the arc reactor ever could. “I love you too.”
He stares at his hands for a long time after the call ends. His fingerprints are Tony’s, of course, and his hair is Tony’s and his memories are Tony’s and this feeling that he wants to call love belongs to Tony too. None of it is his.
Well, except the guilt. That’s definitely his.
“Incoming call from Colonel Rhodes,” JARVIS announces.
“Answer it,” he says. Why is he so damn tired? He’ll have to run a diagnostic on his processors later.
There’s nothing but harsh breathing down the line, filling every corner of the workshop. TONY thinks, maybe a little hysterically, that it’s the only breathing happening here. He’s designed to mimic it, but it’s nothing besides that, mimicry. “Hi Papa Bear, how are things?”
The heavy breathing stops, for so long that TONY wonders if they got disconnected, then Rhodey bites out, “I’m going to kill you, Tony! I’m too damn old for this, you can’t keep giving me heart attacks every time I take my eyes off you!”
Too late. Tony’s already dead.
“You’re only two years older than me,” he says. “If it weren’t for me, you would have been the youngest freshman at MIT. Besides, a heart attack or two is character building, I’ve had like. Seven. Ish.”
“Reminding me how many times you’ve almost died is not your smartest move right now,” Rhodey says. “Tell me you’re okay.”
It’s a demand, an order, firm and unyielding like he’s one of Rhodey’s underlings. Except that Tony was giving orders way before Rhodey was, with the whole running his own multi-billion dollar business thing, and that tone of voice has never worked on him. Still, he says, “I’m okay.”
“Tony,” he says warningly, clearly not believing him, which is fair enough. He is lying.
TONY sighs, hanging his head like he can stretch the tension out of him, but that’s not how things work anymore. He’s vibranium and silicone and some other interesting materials and all his tension is mental. “Sour patch, I’m fine. Okay? Confused as all hell, but I’m okay. I’m sorry I worried you. I really didn’t mean to.”
“You never mean to,” Rhodey says, but his voice has softened and lowered. It sounds like he’s holding the phone even closer. “You almost never mean to.”
“It’s just difficult, is the thing, because you’re a little prone to worrying, a worrywart, as your mother might say-”
“My mother worries more about you than me and always has even though I used to be only one us getting blown up,” he says.
TONY pauses, considering. “Well, she is a smart lady.”
“Damn straight,” he agrees. “Pepper says you’re in Malibu. I can be there in two hours.”
“No!” he shouts, then winces. His eyes skitter over to the suit holding Tony’s body. They need a plan and that plan can’t involve Rhodey being here in two hours. “Don’t. Stay with Pepper. Please.”
“She’s fine,” Rhodey retorts. “You-”
“I’m fine,” he interrupts. “I’m fine, she’s fine, we’re both fine, except she’s in the city that was recently invaded by murderous aliens and I’m not and I have a suit of armor with repulsor technology and she doesn’t, so. Stay with her. Please.”
The silence drags on then Rhodey lets out an aggravated sigh. “Fine. But get your ass over here and if you miss another call from either of us I’m heading over, no matter what you say.”
“Sir yes sir,” he says.
He expects Rhodey to hang up on him then, but he lingers, nothing but his real, non synthetic breathing on the other end. “You really scared me this time. I saw the news reports and then we couldn’t find you-”
“Hey,” he says softly. A bomb and Tony disappearing and Rhodey unable to anything about it. Tony wasn’t the only one of them that had nightmares after Afghanistan. Neither of them had ever been particularly good at sleeping, but it was nearly impossible those months after, when he and Rhodey were fighting and Tony was hiding Iron Man and they still crawled into the same bed because Rhodey got frantic if he reached out in the middle of the night and found the bed empty. Which he often would, considering how much time Tony was spending in his workshop.
They shared a bed more after Afghanistan than before it. Rhodey had been willing to risk the paparazzi and exposure if his other option was staring up at his ceiling and having a panic attack about Tony being gone. Tony had been bitter about that, which certainly hadn’t helped their fight about weapons manufacturing any.
Pepper’s nightmares had been easier. She’d only been his assistant and friend at the time, after all. She would call him at two or three or four in the morning – or all three – and have some sort of urgent question or something for him to sign and he just went along with it because she just needed to hear his voice to fall back asleep and he’d learned after the first teary voicemail and alert from JARVIS that when he didn’t pick up, her vitals were out of acceptable range, per the prototype StarkWatch on her wrist.
It wasn’t until after they got together that she told him she actually drove to his house most nights and called him from her car rather than her bed. Just in case he didn’t answer, which wasn’t logical and didn’t make any sense at all but Pepper hadn’t pretended it had.
They’d all gone a little crazy, after Gulmira, but they’d settled.
But this is going to bring it all bubbling up and if TONY doesn’t figure out a way to reassure them then they’re going to want to stick close to him like they had before and he can’t let them do that. He can’t keep up pretending to be Tony forever and it’s going to be either Pepper or Rhodey who figures it out. He doesn’t need to help that process along at all.
Except that since they watched Tony fly a nuke into space and then hadn’t heard from him in two days, that’s basically impossible. The fact that it wasn’t three months and from their perspective he’s actually fine is going to help, but the level of damage control he’s capable of here is fairly minimal.
Still, he has to try.
“Honey,” he says, making his voice soft and warm like Tony only does when they’re alone. He doesn’t know where Rhodey is now, if he’s somewhere private, but he doesn’t hang up or stop him. All the stupid nicknames were fun and genuinely affectionate but they were also cover for the times that Tony slipped and called him something he shouldn’t, a little too genuine and not quite kitsch enough to pass muster. “Love, it’s okay. I got my head knocked around some, that’s all. And because I freaked out and ended up on the wrong side of the country, I need you in New York, doing what I can’t. That’s all. I’ll be there soon.”
If there’s a hell for androids, TONY is going there and the hellfire will be hot enough to melt his vibranium core, which, you know, is going to the be least of what he deserves.
“I love you,” Rhodey says. TONY closes his eyes. “You know that, right, baby? I do.”
It’s a bad, bad sign that Rhodey is the one using pet names, especially over the phone. “I know. Of course I know. I’ve always known.”
Over two decades of secrets and hiding and fooling around with women he didn’t give a shit about, before Pepper, and through every lonely, angry, desperately sad moment of it, Tony had known that Rhodey loved him. He wouldn’t have put up with that shit for anything less.
Tony died knowing that Rhodey loved him. TONY is sure of it. It’s the worst sort of cold comfort and he’s glad that he can’t offer it.
“I love you,” TONY echoes, because Tony’s been saying it for twenty six years and there’s no good reason for him to stop now.
Except that Tony is dead. He’ll never tell Rhodey that he loves him again.
One day Rhodey and Pepper will find out that the truth and know that while they heard Tony’s voice telling them what they needed to hear, while they let relief nudge out the fear, Tony was dead and cold and gone.
He hates this. This wasn’t what he was programmed for.
This isn’t what Tony would have wanted. But until he can convince JARVIS of that, they’re all stuck in this hell of the AI’s making.
I’ll cry if I think about them for too long but you’re Charles Rowland you’re a biracial punk and you’ve been getting the shit kicked out of you by your father your entire life but you see a Pakistani kid getting beat for being Pakistani and you can’t help it, you’re afraid but you stop it. You’re half Indian why are you any different? The racist little white boys agree. They beat you too. You make it away. You’re cold, so cold and something’s very wrong with you, and then you see a light. But you’re not dead. It’s another boy your age and he tells you he’s dead. He died in this same shitty boarding school and he reads you a bedtime story as you fall asleep. You’re dead now and he’s still here. He knew you were dying and he didn’t want you to be scared. He crawled out of Hell and the first thing he did was comfort you as you lay dying.
Why wouldn’t you run from death with him? Why wouldn’t you spend your eternity with him? Why wouldn’t you love him?
What is this about the tumblr staff wanting to sell art data to midjourney?
An ex-colleague of mine mentioned yesterday that there may be contacts between Automattic and midjourney in that direction, but nothing is public yet and I don't have any more info. They probably won't have anything specific to share either, since they left the company weeks ago too. That being said:
I have no reason to doubt my ex-coworker word, they are a trustworthy person.
Tumblr's CEO has been absurdly enthusiastic (comically, even) about AI, and is a big fan of LLMs and 'AI' companies.
A deal with midjourney could solve tumblr financial issues (not the same company, but openAi is paying up to 5 million/year to news companies to use their content as training data... tumblr generates several orders of magnitude more content than any newspaper or any media company and it only would need a 20 to 30 million per year deal to be profitable)
So I don't have any extra info yet, but I'm keeping my ears open.
And I just got confirmation from a second ex-colleague that a deal with midjourney has been brewing since months ago. Not any extra details, just that's a real thing.
Shit, I don't see any way for this to happen that doesn't make it an apocalyptic event the size of the porn ban. Fuck.
Shit. This may be pure chance and coincidence, and it's not he is in a position to be able to talk about anything, but seeing prominent staff members announcing they are moving their original photography out of tumblr just two weeks ago seems a pretty significant cue of shit to be about to hit the fan.
Just tested. It’s possible to swap out pictures on already-published posts. So in that case, a solution:
Nightshade your photo posts now.
Even if you don’t post your own art anymore, go back to your old stuff and watermark it.
Do it ASAP, before the deal goes through and the scraping begins.
This will not only protect your art, but has the opportunity to fuck over this deal on a pretty large scale. The more of these posts that are glazed or poisoned, the less valuable this deal becomes for tumblr and midjourney.
Share this with everyone. And i do mean everyone.
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