((HOLY MOLY!! THANK YOU FOR 2,000 FOLLOWS EVERYONE! IM REELING! i felt like this would be a good time to reveal that i have reached out to some artists i really admire in the fandom and asked them to do guest asks! AND THEY ALL SAID YES! im very very excited about this and i cant wait to see how it goes! this ask blog means so so so much to me and i read every tag and answer every dm and i save every sweet anon u send and just THANK YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART! i tear up with every nice message i get honestly aaaaa
so the guests artists might not happen for another week or so, just as they get done ill post them so it will be a nice surprise for everyone involved! ill scatter them throughout my own answers to give us some diversity but hoo nelly iM WAY TOO EXCITED ABOUT IT! Hope you all enjoy this as much as i do AND AGAIN THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH!!!))
Summary: Requested by a few. Ethan is a barista at your local coffee shop and he writes stupid puns on your cup every time you drop by. Word Count: 2,326 Warnings: None. A/N: I’m still reeling from 1k followers ughhh, you guys are everything. Hope you enjoy this! Let me know if you want a part two, might make it smutty. xx
It had started last semester. You had been sleep deprived during finals and had studied all night, eventually feeling like you had to go and take a walk outside for some fresh air. It was nearing 6AM by the time you had found yourself outside the deserted coffee shop, so you had shrugged and walked in to grab something to drink. Maybe sugar and caffeine would keep you awake.
The barista that was standing behind the counter was utterly gorgeous and you had lost your voice for a second as you saw him walk around, wiping down the counter and pushing his long curls from his forehead with a rough hand, humming. His nametag had said Ethan and he looked gorgeous in the obligatory white shirt that clung to him in all the right places. You had marveled at the stripe of red at the front of his hair, stuttering out your order when he had smiled gently, greeting you.
i am still reeling from reading that number. 3,000 of you guys follow me. that’s insane. i love each and every one of you a BUNCH and i hope you never forget that. i decided to do a little follow forever to celebrate this milestone. thank you all so much!
ultimate, ultimate darlings:
@alexanderhamllton - okay, if you don’t follow this girl, you are severely missing out. ren is both the creator of this lovely banner she made (!!! have u seen the cute lil sun??? um) and the source of so many lovely gifsets that our fandom is blessed to have. i am always honoured to call her my long lost twin sister.
@womenarethesequel- andie is quite literally a lighthouse in a storm. this girl offers me endless mountains of support and enthusiasm, i honestly don’t know where i’d be without her. what a precious thing!
@itsquietuptwon - wow, alright, lela?? is like the moon. she’s not always visible to us mere mortals, but when she is, it is stunning to see. her fics are so cute, and she spreads so much light and positivity. much love, petite poussin!
@butlinislin - rosie, rosie! if there’s anyone to go to when you’re needing a smile on your face, it’s this girl. she has nothing but good things to say, and is always considerate and easy-going. thank you for always having such faith in me.
@protecting-my-legacy - my god, mackie is one of the funniest people i know. she has this wonderful, enigmatic humour that is unlike anyone i have ever seen! i adore her and her ability to make me laugh and smile.
and now, the incredible blogs that make my dash such a great place! favourites are bolded, but that isn’t to say i don’t adore every one of you.
Sirius thought being a royal meant having power. He thought having power meant having answers. Academically speaking he supposed this was true. He did have power. In a few more months, he’d have all the power in the world. A kingdom. A nation. Anything available, all answers ready at the snap of his fingers. His whole being would be flooded with his royal blood. It would be all anyone would see. Not that people saw much more anyhow.
Sirius looked down from the doorway, blinking and surprised to find his hand outstretched towards the place where Remus had been a moment before. He opened and closed it a few times, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. He could use an answer right about now.
But it was useless. Power. Royalty. It was all so utterly useless against… whatever had just happened. He was tempted to try, to search and see if someone could puzzle this one out for him as well. But he wasn’t sure that was possible.
He put his hand down, only now noticing how cool the room had gotten as the sun set. He looked up at the sound of feet above him, frantic feet… pacing? The floorboards groaned under the hesitation and then squeaked and protested when the pacing started up again. Twice they came to the top of the stairs, and twice they retreated once more. He wanted to go up, almost did a few times… But Sirius didn’t know if he was welcome upstairs. He frowned as Remus’ words echoed in his ears.
Of course you can be here. You’re you.
He sat back on the stool, sighing and picking another piece of cake from the crumb ridden plate. The phrase really shouldn’t bother him. It was true after all. He could go any where he pleased. And it was because of who he was. He should be proud of that, that was power, so why wasn’t he? It was maddening, honestly, but he didn’t want Remus to think-
Sirius threw the cake down, rubbing his hands over his face.
He didn’t know what he didn’t want Remus to think. That he would invade any space he chooses just because he can? Yes. But he could so why shouldn’t he?
Sirius stood. He wanted answers. Why shouldn’t he get them?
The stairs practically wailed under his feet and he heard Remus still. He turned into a small, nearly bare bedroom almost immediately as he followed the sound—or lack of. He hoped his reaction didn’t register on his face. The room was sad, and drab, and positively wretched. He didn’t know how Remus lived in here much less slept at night.
“Who said you could come up here?”
Sirius turned his gaze away from Remus’ bedroom and to the boy himself. Remus stood in the center on a small, threadbare rug that could hardly pass for more than an old dishtowel in Sirius’ opinion. His arms were wrapped protectively around himself and he was red from his cheeks to his neck, a dark embarrassed flush that made him look positively endearing and livid at the same moment.
Sirius stepped into the room, carefully avoiding the moldy door frame, “You left without explanation, I came-“
“That doesn’t mean I wanted you to follow.”
Sirius shook his head, mind reeling, “I don’t understand.”
“Oh,” Remus scoffed, “There’s a first.”
Sirius, to his surprise, flooded with hurt rather than anger at the insult. He didn’t want to lash out, not like he usually did. But he wanted it to stop. He took a deep breath through his nose.
“Why, are you so angry?”
“Because-“ Remus gestured wildly at Sirius who looked down at himself, trying to pinpoint something that he could have done. He looked back up, bewildered, when Remus failed to elaborate.
Remus’ cheeks were pink his eyes burning, “You can’t just waltz in everywhere like you own the place!”
“I do own the place!” Sirius burst, confusion slowly giving way to the familiar burning flare of his temper.
“That doesn’t give you the right!”
“I-“ He snapped his mouth shut. His hands were fists at his side. He felt deep, dark shame spread through his chest, snuffing anything else out in its path. His straightened, “I know that.”
He dropped his gaze from Remus’ who was still breathing hard, “I know that.”
Remus turned away too, bracing his hands against the splintering desk on the far wall and not saying a word.
Sirius wanted to take it back. He’d foreseen this reaction and carried it out anyway. Why?
Remus’ knuckles were white against the wood and he stiffened when Sirius took a step forward so he took two backwards instead, “I apologize.” After the evening they’d spent together, the words felt too formal coming out of his mouth but he continued the tone anyway. He didn’t know how to not set Remus off again. He didn’t want to.
“I overstepped. I was… confused. I didn’t mean-“
“I know.” Sirius was surprised at Remus’ voice. It was shaky and unsure. It was hopeless, “I know you didn’t mean it, you never mean it, but you do it and I… I think its best that you go. Just right now, I-“ Remus turned back around, sighing. Sirius’s fingers dug into his palms at the relief that flooded his chest when Remus looked at him, “I don’t know what to say right now, alright? I’m sorry, you’re sorry, let’s just… leave it at that. This is strange enough as it is.”
Sirius blinked, “I didn’t- what about this is strange?”
Remus let out a small, only half humorous laugh, “Really?”
Sirius shuffled, unsure. He didn’t like not knowing, he didn’t like being unsure. But here he was, with Remus, a boy who seemed to be nothing but unfamiliar territory.
“I- I had a fine time tonight. I don’t see what’s so odd.” He clasped his hands behind his back, then unclasped them, the gesture reminding him too much of his father.
Remus looked at him for a moment more, then shook his head, hands going behind him briefly to untie his plain, canvas apron from around his waist, tossing it onto the bed, “Have you forgotten who we are?”
“Of course not.” And then Sirius slipped a little, “Quite hard to given the state of this room.” He trailed off at the end, biting down hard on his tongue, “I- I didn’t-“
“Yeah, you didn’t mean it, right?” Remus’ stare was colder than Sirius had seen it yet, “You really should go.”
The silence in the room was crushing. Sirius tried to straighten his back, to regain some form of composure… but he couldn’t. Not enough, anyway. And he turned quickly on his heels, thundering back down the stairs and up out of the cool kitchen. He ran and didn’t stop until he was leaning back against the shut door of his room. He gazed around at it, breathing hard.
Everything was perfect.
The pillows were fluffed, the sheets turned down. Not a speck of dust. The finest of silk sheets lay waiting for him, the wood bed frame positively shone. The expensively dyed, woven tapestries on the walls showed riches and wealth.
He gulped down air, nails digging into the wood behind him. He’d let himself believe for a moment. He’d let himself think that maybe, just maybe…
But here he was, back where he started. In this spotless room, waiting for a future to be mapped out for him. Waiting and simply passing the time. Is that what he’s trying to do with Remus? Yes. Yes, that’s better. It’s better to think of it like that. Just a way to pass the time. Not a friend. A servant. That’s what he is, that’s what James is, that’s what they all are. And he is a king.
He is a king, and a king rules alone.
Sirius stayed quiet as James dressed him, avoiding his curious glances when any attempt at banter or conversation was more or less ignored.
“Mate, the party won’t be that bad. There will be drinks, look at it that way.”
Sirius nodded, busying himself with undoing and re-doing a tie on his sleeve, “I’m sure.”
He heard James still from where he was hanging up a dress jacket from behind him, then sigh, “Alright…”
Sirius closed his eyes briefly at the guilt that flooded his chest. He didn’t want James to think he was angry with him. He wasn’t really all that angry at all. He was confused, he was hurt. He couldn’t seem to say the right thing anyhow so why say anything at all?
“The pub was fine, by the way,” James voice came after a moment, much more guarded than before, “thanks for asking-”
“I’ll take the green instead, actually.” Sirius cut him off before he could try and start another conversation, a conversation Sirius didn’t think he could finish before slipping up and loosing what little distance he’d been able to put between him and his friend in the half hour James had been in his room. He shrugged off the black vest he was wearing and held it out without eye contact, simply trying to keep James busy.
He could feel James looking at him and finally had to look up as well, not wanting to run the risk of appearing childish. They held each other’s gaze for a second before James took the thin velvet garment, turning back to the closet and swiping the green, “Why the sudden change of heart?”
He was not referring to the jacket.
Sirius allowed James to ease the material over his broad shoulders, straightening it with a tug, “Just… thought it would be better.”
He was not referring to the jacket.
A few beats of silence and then he heard James huff out a breath, “Well then. Okay.” Sirius turned around nodding as James eyed him somewhat too knowingly. Sirius knew he knew something was up. Instead of pressing, however, James just spread his hands then let them drop back to his sides, slapping against his pants, “Right, enjoy your party, feast, ball, whatever it is.”
James smirked at the same time Sirius did and there it was. The friendship leaking through the cracks. Sirius cursed himself for letting it, and thanked god that it was there in the first place. He straightened.
“I’ll let you know if I need anything. I assume you won’t be waitering?”
“McGonagall said they had enough so, no.” James pushed his hands into his pockets.
Sirius nodded. McGonagall, head of the downstairs, always on top of things. Sirius had always liked her despite what his mother said about her habits and dress.
James nodded back, and was turning to go when he halted, hand on the door nob, and turned, “Sirius?”
No, no, just leave, James. Sirius chanted at him in his head. He would slip up again. James was all he had and he would slip up again, “Hm?”
James tilted his head a little, “Are you okay?”
Sirius exhaled a shaky breath, closing his eyes. Because of course. James, all he had, his first and only friend, and the only person to ever ask him that, ever. He savored it, he let it melt the walls away. He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t sure he’d even tried properly—wasn’t sure he could try properly, but he couldn’t shut him out. Not James.
“Sirius?” Worry clouded James’ voice now.
Sirius opened his eyes and nodded quickly, “Yes. Yes, fine. Just…” He tok a breath, words coming out with his exhale, exhausted, “you know how I get at these things.”
James nodded slowly, as if weighing it for truthfulness, “Right.” He turned to go but turned once more, “You’d say, wouldn’t you? You’d tell me if it was more?”
Sirius melted a little more. Care and kindness was not something he was experienced with, and he fumbled to handle it each and every time. His conscious screamed a few things that his mind didn’t quite comprehend yet.
I’m so lonely I can barely stand it.
Everything I need is right here. Everything I want is right here and so far.
I’m a king and he’s not.
That last was especially dangerous. He didn’t know what would happen if he let that one come to full comprehension.
“Sure. ‘course.” Sirius bit the inside of his bottom lip, “Of course I would, James. Have a good night, yeah?”
James flashed him an uneasy grin and left fully this time, door shutting softly behind him.
Sirius let out a breath he had been holding. His sheets were silk. His crown was pure gold. His clothes were the finest all around. His cellar was full of riches and coin. His home was a castle. His birthright was a country and a beautiful queen.
And yet, at that moment, he would have traded it all for a bit of plain chocolate cake and the sandy hair and kind smile that went with it. And he didn’t know why. He knew which should be more promising, but he also knew which one actually was.
He left for the party with heavy feet and a conflicted mind.
The party was brilliant and soft. The lanterns shone out against the dusky sky and laughter filled the summer garden. The patterns in the paper placed around the candles cast intricate patterns on the guest’s faces, making them seem to be a part of the flowers that surrounded them. Sirius wished he could enjoy it all more, honestly, he did. He lived for summer evenings. But his mother was cackling at his elbow, his brother sulking at his other, and his father downing scotch after scotch across from him, all while pretentious dukes and nobles and their wives laughed and practically bowed on the spot. Anything to gain favor. Sirius stood, back straight to avoid a glare and nails digging painfully into his neck, but it was all he could do to not slap the lot of them. But he had become fluent in the art of restraint early in his life. For many reasons.
He turned to Regulus, seeking at least some refuge, “Fancy a swim tomorrow?”
Regulus didn’t even look at him, “Not particularly.”
Sirius blinked, staring at his little brother for too long. His mind played images of them only a few years ago, snorting at the table and sneaking off from parties to some mischief. For the life of him, Sirius couldn’t say what had gone wrong. Another question, it seemed, the royal blood did not get him the answer to.
He sighed, turning away, “Right then. Nice of you to let me down lightly.”
Regulus glared sharply at him but turned away again, wordless.
Sirius’ stomach clenched at his mother’s voice—the singsong one she used in company. He flicked the corners of his lips up almost on instinct, turning towards the sound and whoever it was he was meant to greet. He nearly lost the slapped on smile, however, when he saw who that was.
“Sirius, darling, meet Anthea. Anthea Cerberus. You know the family…” His mother muttered the last part in his ear.
Sirius stared at the young girl for a moment. She looked around his age, maybe a few years younger. Her eyes were practically black against the swirling pattern of light that a lantern was slanting across her face, and although Sirius knew it was the lighting darkening the brown irises, it unnerved him. She looked soft and flush, just like the rest of the guests, but her gaze did not. Sirius listed off what he knew in his head. His age, female, introduced to him by his mother who followed the introduction by hissing a reminder of her status in his ear. Sirius gulped down the dread that was rising in his chest.
“Oh, do call her Anthea, boy!”
Sirius grit his teeth, letting the pleasure he took in the slip up of his mother’s tone into his veins. He took the hand she was presumptuously offering, “Anthea. Pleasure is mine.”
She let out a little laugh, biting on her lip in a way that he was sure was suppose to look sweet, “I’m sure.”
He scoffed ever so softly under his breath, “Are you?”
Sirius flinched at the familiar dig of his mother’s nails onto the flesh where his neck met his shoulder. His back straightened instinctively and his heart picked up. They retreated, and he could feel the sharp sting where the crescent shapes had broken skin.
“Anthea lives just in Akeldama. You know Akeldama.” The queen’s voice was back and strong, dripping with false adoration.
“Oh yes, wonderful hunting.” Sirius had never been hunting in his life and never would if he could help it.
“Quite right!” She fanned herself with the small embroidered fan she held. Two snakes with entertained necks blinked at Sirius from the stitching, “Perhaps one day you can catch me something. Something… big and bloodied.” Her eyes had lit up in a way that made Sirius want to positively run.
“Yes…” He swallowed, keeping the smile up, “Perhaps-“
Sirius broke off, a movement from just beyond the lights catching his eye. He wasn’t even sure how he noticed it until he realized what exactly he was looking at. A face peaking out from between trees. More importantly, a face with a nose that sloped up just a bit at the end and caramel hair.
Sirius blinked a few times, then turned back to Anthea, knowing he had paused for too long to appear normal but attempting to recover anyway, “Yes, absolutely. Perhaps, in the meantime, I can offer you…” He glanced over to the dessert table, “something sweet?”
She giggled, although it didn’t sound like a giggle. It was horribly high pitched and came out through her nose.
“Oh yes, please.”
He left the girl and his mother, who were gushing about his gentlemanly actions, with no plan on returning.
He weaved through the crowds of people towards the long table that was laden to the brim with sweets and cakes and puddings. He nicked a plate and started from one end. He made his way through the table, taking two of every dessert that visibly contained or that he knew to contain any form of chocolate. When he was done, the plate was only just nearing too piled and he looked at it with satisfaction. If anything qualified as a piece offering, this was it. With a last glance towards where he could just see the tops of his mother and Anthea’s heads, he disappeared from under the lights, arcing around the trees, which he knew to ring a small clearing, where he had seen Remus’ face moments earlier.
He walked briskly until he was at the opposite edge of the clearing, fully able to see Remus’ back as he watched the party from the safety of the trees. His hands were pressed to the bark of the one to his left, wrapping around it and letting his temple rest against it. Sirius thought he heard soft humming in time to the music. Sirius took quiet, slow, steps until he was just behind Remus.
He took a deep breath, gathering his courage,
“A fairy’s ring.” Remus jumped out of his skin and Sirius grinned, “That’s what they call this.”
Remus let out a huff that could have been a laugh and turned, “Jesus fucking…”
“It’s suppose to have powers… of some sort.” Sirius interrupted him and pretended to look around at the darkening trees, the lights of the party only just filtering through them, when really he was watching Remus from the corner of his eye. Finally, he shrugged, eyes falling back on Remus fully, “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
Remus stood there quietly, watching Sirius with guarded eyes. When he said nothing, Sirius strode forward the last few steps to see the party as Remus had seen it, from between the trees. He spied his mother with her crown and cape almost instantly. You could not hear her cackle or falseness from here. You could not hear the snide, narrow-minded comments from here. You could not smell the reek of alcohol off his father from here. They all looked so happy from here. He wondered if Remus knew the truth.
“Looks quite lovely, doesn’t it?”
There was a few more beats of silence, until he felt Remus step up beside him, felt the warmth of his skin, “Yes. But you know that.”
His voice was guarded. The coolness stirred something in Sirius, some strange desire to do whatever he could to get rid of it. He thought of Remus in front of the oven that evening after swimming. He had felt so completely alone that day, floating in the center of the lake. But with Remus and his pink cheeks and freckled nose, he’d felt… cured? He didn’t know. Sirius shifted, clearing his throat, “I was making conversation.”
“You struggle with that.”
“With you, yes.” Sirius sighed. Again, he seemed to have stepped wrong.
He felt Remus stiffen beside him, then shift away to lean against the tree again. The heat of his skin had been distracting in a way that Sirius was sure it shouldn’t be, and was even more so now that it had gone.
Sirius tensed at the thought, the sudden want in his chest to regain that contact, and at his fingers tightening around the plate in his hands, he remembered what he was holding. He turned, holding it out wordlessly.
Remus looked down at it, eyes wide and blinking rapidly, then looked at Sirius with the same questioning stare.
“I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to say…” Sirius hesitated. In reality, he couldn’t really remember what he had said to make Remus leave in the first place, “I meant not offense,” He settled on instead, “and I know you like chocolate, so… think of it as a peace offering. I hear the chocolate cake is divine.”
Remus’ mouth twitched upward at that and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitantly taking the plate.
I want to give him more. I want him to look at me like that again.
“I’ve… I’ve never had half of these.”
Sirius blinked, “You make all of these.”
“For you.” Remus laughed, actually laughed, and then caught himself, stuttering, “I mean for the upstairs. I mean- you know, your family.”
Sirius felt knocked askew at the guilt that rushed suddenly through him, “Oh. Well, we can sit. Or- you can sit. If you prefer.”
“No. No, it’s alright.” Remus nearly mumbled it and he dropped quickly to the ground. The light from the party cast soft shadows through the leaves against Remus’ face as he looked up at Sirius. It was better than the patterns of the lanterns and Sirius wished he could capture it somehow, “We can sit.”
He nodded, then sat too, shifting so he was shoulder to shoulder with Remus again, unable to resist feeling the warmth once more.
They sat quietly for the most part, picking at the chocolate, Remus occasionally commenting and Sirius occasionally agreeing. He didn’t take anything unless Remus offered it to him, something that he found took some restraint. He wasn’t use to being denied such trivial things. Eventually Remus scooted until he was turned around, and merely nodded in the direction of the party when Sirius raised an eyebrow. He wanted to watch. Sirius rubbed his cold shoulder softly before catching himself. He could have sworn Remus was watching the gesture, but when he really looked Remus’ eyes had darted away. The lights flickered through the leaves against his face, casting soft patterns. He offered Sirius a round truffle and Sirius took it.
He rolled it between his fingers, coating them in the bitter cocoa dust, “You like watching the dancing.”
“And you can’t cook an egg.” Remus said through a cherry sponge cake, “Anything else we’ve learned about each other?”
Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, smile playing at his mouth, “Yes.”
Sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees, “You aren’t afraid to correct me.”
Remus raised an eyebrow, taking the truffle back that Sirius had yet to eat, “You aren’t afraid to insult me.” He popped it into his mouth, “So, you’re basically saying I’m head strong and can’t dance. Anything else?”
Sirius sighed, letting his head fall back against the rough tree bark, looking at Remus threw his eyelashes, eyelids hooded, “Well. I could teach you.”
Remus dropped the sponge cake onto the grass, just missing the plate, “Wh.. Sorry?”
Already Sirius’ chest was warming at the thought. The burning desire to have Remus’ palm against his almost scared him, “I could teach you. To dance. You said you knew of the Summer’s Waltz.”
“Knew of. As in can’t actually do it.” Remus’ neck was flushed with unsureness.
“Yes,” Sirius drew out the word, pushing himself up, dusting his hands off on his pants, and then offering one to Remus, “And I could teach you. As in assist you until you know it.” He added the last part playfully.
Remus just looked up at Sirius, eyes raking up and down his figure and then flicking momentarily down to his own, “I’m not wearing shoes.”
Sirius considered this, then looked down. He glanced up at Remus repeatedly, smirking at the shocked expression on his face as he undid his own boots, letting the grass cool his feet. He held out his hand once more, “Neither am I.”
Remus couldn’t describe that feeling in his chest as he slowly reached out and pressed his fingers around Sirius’. It was delight. It was want. It was dread.
“You’re very persistent.” Remus grumbled.
Sirius pulled Remus up, smiling at the soft noise Remus made with the effort. The smile wavered at just how perfect the weight of Remus’ palm felt in his. He frowned slightly at their hands. He didn’t know why he was so persistent. He didn’t know why he wanted to teach Remus to dance. He looked over his shoulder, at the blurry lights of the party. He knew why he didn’t want to ask Anthea to dance. Because she was rude, and she was ghastly, and she gnawed on her lip in an attempt to be flirtatious. He turned back to Remus, eyes falling on their hands and then his face. Remus looked nervous, and he was biting his lip, but this time it made Sirius’ chest seize up. Sirius let out a breath.
Alliances must be made, Sirius.
He knew he shouldn’t want this. He’d learned… he’d thought he’d learned to control it. He’d flirted with the servant girls, even taken some of them back to his room in an attempt to prove a point, more to himself than others. He’d liked it, being with them, but he hadn’t… enjoyed it. Not exactly.
But he wanted to teach Remus to dance. He wanted to hold his hand.
And he was a prince. Why shouldn’t he have, at least for a moment, what he wants?
He realized he had been standing there far to long only when Remus started to clear his throat and pull away.
“Um. If you’ve changed your mind-“
“No.” Sirius said quickly, “No. No, I haven’t I was just-“ He was caught off guard momentarily as Remus stopped attempting to extract his hand and it settled comfortably back into Sirius’, “I was just planning.”
Remus raised an eyebrow, “Planning?”
Sirius took a step forward, “Of sorts. Now,” Sirius took Remus’ other hand and pressed it gently to the shoulder of his arm not holding Remus’ other hand, “I’ll lead, so you’ll have to be the girl.”
Remus kicked Sirius’ shin and Sirius let out a loud fall of laughter, delighted that the joking side of Remus was back.
“Okay,” he cleared his throat as his laughter died down, “And I have my hand,” he tried to ignore the thrumming of his heart as he pressed his other hand to the small of Remus’ back, “here.” They were so close now that Remus stumbled forward, stepping on Sirius’ bare toes. He flushed but said nothing of it.
“Good?” Sirius said softly, looking down at Remus. He could feel the puffs of his breath against his neck and swallowed.
Remus looked up at him quickly, like he was taking a risk, and then straight again, eyes level with Sirius’ lips, “Good.” He coughed a little, “Next step?”
Sirius smiled, “You make it sound like we’re in the kitchen, cooking something.”
Remus flashed his eyes up again, lingering a little longer this time, and offering a smile of his own. He adjusted his hand and it ended up pressed closer to Sirius’, “Is it really that different?”
Sirius tried not to tighten his grip, “Suppose not, no…”
Sirius jolted a little, “Yes- Yes. Yes, steps. Right.”
It was easier than Sirius had expected. Remus followed carefully and precisely for the most part, having an easier time of it once Sirius told him to step forward whenever he stepped back and vise versa. They laughed a little at small mistakes, but other than that it was only Sirius murmuring soft instructions and counting under his breath, a sound only accompanied by the settling wind in the trees. Sirius savored the way their eyes followed each other, the way only their wrists touched when the spun, and how they came back together nearly seamlessly.
Finally, Sirius lifted their hands up, pressing their fingers together until they were palm against palm, practically nose to nose, the final movement. Remus was looking at him this time, chin having to tilt upwards a little, lips parted.
“Like that?” He could feel Remus’ uneven breathing.
“Yes.” Sirius was sure his was the same. He almost couldn’t focus on the words. Remus’ hand was smooth, with a few working callouses littering the crest of his palm. His eyes were golden in the nearly faded light. “Just like that.”
Just like that. Just like that Sirius felt it in every cell of his body. His heart pumped it through his veins, his mind sparked it through his limbs. He wanted to kiss Remus. He wanted to so badly.
He stepped back, and the want dragged like a hook in his chest, attempting to drag him painfully forward once more.
“Just like that.” Sirius bent to pull his shoes back on, to hide the rapid rising of his chest, the flush on his neck, the panic and need in his eyes.
“Oh.” Sirius could see the way Remus’ now empty hand was opening and closing a few times, stretching the fingers out, “Well. Maybe once more-“
“I should probably get back to the party.” He needed a moment. Just a moment away, to regain his composer.
“Oh.” The hurt in his voice was overpowering, “Right. ‘Course you do.”
Sirius straightened, eyes almost pleading, “Not like that.” Please don’t be angry with me.
Remus turned back around sharply from where Sirius hadn’t realized he’d turned away, “Not like what?” His tone was almost… hopeful.
Sirius had never felt so conflicted in his life. The party lights were no longer beautiful, instead they felt like they were burning into the back of his neck. He wanted to stay here, in the cool, softness of this clearing with Remus. Maybe the so-called powers could trap them there, together.
He rushed forward, closing the few steps between them and took Remus’ hand again, pressing it between his own. If he had to go back to the party, he at least needed this.
“Come to the lake tomorrow. The one on the south grounds. Can you manage? At noon.”
When Remus nodded Sirius felt a wild relief. He very well could have kissed him again.
“Say it back so I know you’ll remember.”
Remus blinked. How on earth could he forget? He said it anyway, “Lake. South grounds. Noon.”
“Tomorrow.” Sirius repeated urgently.
“Tomorrow.” Remus repeated once more, standing there until Sirius disappeared into the crowd of royals, hand warm and heart thumping.
If you're still doing the microfics, can I please ask for hurt Keith and protective Shiro? Congratulations on your follower milestone! :3
“Stay back!” Shiro’s head was reeling, but he forced himself upright and interposed himself between his fallen teammate and the group of creatures moving toward them. His Galra arm was glowing already, and he stood defensively, unwilling to move forward and leave Keith behind but certainly not allowing himself to be pushed back.
The five or six aliens approaching through the trees paused and glanced at each other, beady black eyes narrowing, the spines on their back and heads rippling in what looked like conscious patterns. Shiro wondered distantly if they could communicate with those. Most of him didn’t care. These creatures were enormous and seemed highly dangerous, and he wasn’t going to let them get anywhere near Keith.
After some silent communication, one of the smaller aliens at the front of the group took one step forward, upper limbs cautiously outstretched. As Shiro watched, gaze darting back and forth, it retracted the claws at the end of each digit on its six upper appendages. It looked at Shiro without blinking. “Visitor.” Even its voice was careful, almost soft. “You crash-landed from the sky, yes? Your companion is injured?”
Involuntarily, Shiro glanced behind him at where Keith was sprawled in a pile of bracken, limp and unmoving. He had responded weakly when Shiro had dragged them both out of the destroyed pod ship, but hadn’t said anything for the last twenty minutes or so. Shiro wasn’t sure about the extent of his injuries, but he knew they were serious.
He looked forward and raised his glowing arm again. “Don’t touch him,” he spat.
The spokescreature took a tiny step back and raised its upper limbs even higher in the universal symbol of surrender. “We mean no harm to you, sky-traveler. One of our members is a healer. If you will allow us to have a look, we may be able to help.”
Shiro panted for breath and stared into its face, trying to read the truth on a face with features that had few equivalents to human anatomy. It was a losing battle, and he knew it. He had no idea if he could believe what this alien was saying. But Keith was hurt, possibly dying. Shiro’s only option might be to trust these people, whoever they might be.
A chance, even a slim chance, was better than no chance. Shiro slowly straightened, his Galra arm lowering to his side as it deactivated. “Very well,” he said. “I would appreciate your assistance, if you can offer it. But I will not leave my friend’s side, and I warn you, if I have a reason to attack, I can move very, very quickly.”
The spokescreature moved its head slowly in what might have been something like a nod, then looked back to the group and waved an appendage. Another alien, this one presumably a healer, began to move forward. Shiro kept an eye on it, as well as the others, but let them approach.
He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake.
2,000 followers special! Prompts are now closed. Thank you to everyone who participated! You can read all of the fics at this link or on AO3 starting here.
could you write a soulmate au with scotty? maybe with the red string trope and the tugs get in the way of during his job properly but he just ignores it? :))” - @nymphadora-blurryface
Word Count: 2,865
Author’s Note: AKA: 5 Times Scotty Ignored His String and 1 Time He Didn’t. Because I’m a sucker for those stories. I loved writing this so much. Scotty is such a sweet, precious little bean and having him slowly fall in love with someone like this was just so beautiful to explore. Please enjoy and a always please let me know what you think! Your feedback is precious to me <3
Scotty’s arm gave a violent jolt over the strategy table. He grimaced a reigned his errant limb back in, clasping his hands tightly behind his back.
“Christ,” he hissed, trying to regain his train of thought.
“You all good, Mr. Scott?” Jim asked in that shiteating way he does when he knows damn well that it’s not all good.
“Jus’ ignore it, Sir, I’m trying to,” Scotty retorted, shuffling his feet and sniffing. “Now, as I was saying -”
“Best not to ignore it too long, Mr. Scott,” Jim said with a tip of his head.
“Aye, now as I was saying…”
“Meester Scott, I voss vondering, vhere vould I find - Are you alright?” Chekov appeared in the doorway, his yellow shirt stained with wide smears of grease.
Scotty sat at his desk, one hand over his eyes, the other arm stretched aloft at an odd angle.
“Aye, lad, what are ye lookin’ for?” Scotty let the hand over his eyes fall to his thigh as he looked up at his apprentice.
“Um… Meester Scott…”
“‘S been like this for nigh on twenty minutes,” Scotty griped. “I can’ take it down.”
“Um… should I raise ze Doctor, or…?”
“I’m sure it’ll go away if I wait,” Scotty said, standing and approaching the doorway. The angle of his arm didn’t waver, but he was able to move freely otherwise.
“I vonder vat zey’re doing…” Chekov mused.
“I prefer not to think about it,” Scotty clapped the young Russian on the shoulder. “Now, wha’ are ya lookin’ for?”
So I did the thing I definitely shouldn’t have done. I sawthis postby @gittana and things spiraled out of control from there. It’s much too long and still I haven’t finished writing up to the point where my muse has stopped speaking to me.
Also because The Lightning Thief was written in the first person I decided to start writing in in the first person from Marinette’s P.O.V beginning at Chapter 1 however the prologue is still in 3rd person. Bear with me on this.
Just a little farther!! I’m almost there! Please please, whoever’s up there, please let me make it! Marinette thought to herself as she dashed up the hillside where a large pine tree signified a place of safety.
“Come here child!” The woman behind her screeched sounding much closer now.
Marinette dared to glance over her shoulder where the creature was fast approaching. The top half of the monster was that of a woman with wild unblinking eyes and razor sharp teeth. The lower half of her body was that of a serpent. Her tail slithered up the hill as her arms propelled her forward in an unnatural way. Marinette’s lungs burned as she pushed herself to run faster up the hill. She swallowed hard, tasting blood. Hands clasped around her ankle sharp nails digging into her skin. Marinette screamed as she was pulled down to the grassy earth and was dragged backwards. Marinette grabbed fistfuls of the soft wet grass in an attempt to slow her pull towards certain death. She was pulled through the grass with fumbling hands searching for anything to catch hold of. A clumsy hand wrapped around a stick. A stick was hardly a weapon but Marinette was grateful for anything at this point. I’m going to go down fighting with a stick! This is so embarrassing, Marinette thought to herself tightening her hold on the only thing she had to protect herself. Clawed hands ripped as her back. She could feel hot breath blow against her neck. Now was her chance. Marinette whimpered as she turned beneath the monster’s grasp to come face to face with it. The serpentine woman smiled wickedly at the young girl showing all her pointy teeth.
“I’m sure you taste as sweet as you look child,” The monster cooed her breath smelling metallic, like blood. Marinette’s stomach churned uneasily.
The woman opened her mouth inhumanly wide preparing to take a bite of Marinette. With shaking hands Marinette swiftly plunged the stick into one of the woman’s unblinking eyes. The woman shrieked in pain releasing Marinette from her grasp. Marinette scrambled to her feet charging towards the hill. The monster quickly recovered, leaping towards Marinette. Marinette dove to the side barely missing the woman’s claws. The monster turned to face her with her one good eye, the other was missing leaving a bloodied black hole behind. Marinette grimaced as the creature hissed. She began to slowly back up towards the tree while keeping her eyes trained on the woman. The monster flicked her tail out knocking Marinette to the ground and letting the woman slither on top of her once move. Marinette struggled beneath her pushing her face away with her hands and trying her best not to let the nails burying themselves into the flesh of her arms bother her. In the scramble to avoid the creatures teeth and keep from losing a hand one of Marinette’s thumbs found it’s way to the creatures lone eye. Without any other weapon in her arsenal Marinette began to press against the eye’s slick surface with as much force as she could muster. The creature yowled in pain her head reeling back but where she went Marinette followed pressing harder into the woman’s eye. The creature’s claws raked down her arms. Marinette stifled a scream as she kept pressing down. Her stomach lurched when she finally heard that sickening pop. The woman’s body stilled a smile spreading across her features looking strangely out of place as she slumped to the ground with a contented sigh. Breathing heavy Marinette, hands slick with- well she didn’t really want to think about that- staggered up the hill. As her feet drug themselves past the borders of the pine tree Marinette fell to her knees a lump forming in her throat. Finally! After all this time she was safe. Marinette breathed a sigh of relief tears filing her eyes as she heard the startled shouts of campers. Safe. Exhaustion swept through her. Without the threat of death hanging over her head she could finally let herself rest. Slumping against the soft bed of grass beneath her she let the darkness overtake her.
This is an animated stop motion showreel created by an animator named Oliver Beale, also know as Cranbersher. He is primarily a youtuber and teaches stop motion to his subscribers.
The beginning of the showreel is very effective in showing his own style and the types of stories that he likes to produce, and the theme of the reel follows in that similar fashion. The editing of the video is done very well with the soundtrack, which is used throughout his other videos for a running theme on his channel.
The only issue I found was that there were no titles on the clips that were being shown, which made it difficult to know exactly what the clips were about or what to search for if I were to look for them on his channel or website.
Summary: When the lives of his growing family are threatened, Spencer must make the decision needed to protect them. Requested by @lovers-on-call-13!
Word count: 1,599
A/N: While this could be read as a stand alone imagine, I do think that it works best as a sequel to my other imagine Visiting Hours. Feedback is always loved and requests are curretly open!
Whatever had possessed you to visit a federal prison on a Saturday afternoon was becoming a deeply regrettable decision. Between the heat that filled the fully occupied confined space and the questionable smell that drifted off of the man sitting next to you, the nauseous sensation you had been fighting off all day was beginning to creep its way back up your throat.
Four weeks had passed by since your last visit with Spencer, and while being unable to see him drove you mad, your absence was for a reasonable cause. After dismissing your nausea, vomiting, and missed period as symptoms of stress, it was Penelope who became concerned and dragged you to a doctor. A few blood tests and an ultrasound made it official — you were pregnant.
Three months ago, you would have been crying tears of joy, ecstatic to tell Spencer that his dream of having a family with you was coming true. But at the present time, all you could do was break down sobbing into Penelope’s arms, terrified to think about how Spencer would now react.
But now as you found yourself sitting across from the now father of your child, listening to him recount the past few weeks of his exiled life, you found yourself wringing your wrists in the realization that the time had come to face your fears.
Prompt: Hi! Could you write an imagine where Reader gets drunk af (although it’s
not what she usually does) and becomes really clingy to Jug cause she
can’t act this way sober and they have a moment somewhere no one can see
them. And Jug confesses cause he thinks she won’t remember but she
does. Hope it makes sense 😂 Love ur work! You’re amazing 🐰
A/N: Thank you so much anon and this honestly sounds good :3 Hope I did your request justice! I also made the reader sort of punk, so I hope that’s cool.
Cheryl’s latest party was in full swing when you arrived. Your classmates were holding beer cans and red solo cups filled with gin and fireball. You wandered around, trying to find your anyone you knew, and finally discovered them crowding in a corner. You were particularly a loner at Riverdale High School - you occasionally hung out with Betty, Archie, and company, but most of the time you enjoyed solitude where you could sketch in peace.
Monday 10th - Aaron has now been out of prison for a few days and is enjoying being reunited with Robert.The happy couple enjoy each other’s company when they head out for a picnic, but when they arrive back in the village, they’re shocked to hear some mind-blowing news. The revelation leaves Robert under serious pressure, but does it relate to Rebecca?
Tuesday 11th - Victoria continues to feel queasy and hopes that she’s pregnant. However, when she looks for some advice on what to do next, she may well accidentally blow someone else’s secret in the process.
Rebecca is left reeling following news of her own.
Wednesday 12th - Ross spots an opportunity to blackmail Robert and holds him to ransom. Will Robert give into his demands or not?
Thursday 13th (7pm) -
Robert realises that he needs to act quickly, so he suggests to Aaron that they should go and visit Liv for a while. Could Robert manage to escape without Ross getting his cash?
Welcome to this… whatever it is. In all honesty, it was a project born out of procrastination, that circled round and finally completed.
In case you’re not familiar with our Tributes, you can find them here:
This is more a highlights reel than anything. But it should follow some sort of narrative. Who out of these Tributes will be the skilled, quick-footed, sharp-witted and deadly winner of these Hunger Games?