#sirius black ficlet

[ellecdc]

Hardass

Chef!Sirius Black x mixologist!reader who survive a shift from hell

CW: fem!reader, mention of alchohol/drinking, fluff.

comes from a request from @maladaptiveescapism: chef!sirius and mixologist!reader. sirius is a chef at a fancy restaurant and maybe a mishap happens with booking and reader has to keep the people sitting at the bar waiting for a seat and she does such a good job because she’s flirty and fun and trained for this. sirius who always has such a short temper (chefs, am I right) secretly worships her because she’s the one thing he can count on

Sirius was fuming, to say the least.

He loved his job; he really did. The kitchens were his sanctuary, and it was the first place he fled to when he ran away from home at only sixteen. 

Though he knew Effie and Fleamont would have helped with anything he needed (or even wanted, for that matter), he didn’t want to become a burden or take advantage of their kindness. So, he found a part time job in a small family owned restaurant as a dishwasher.

Washing dishes became bussing tables. Bussing tables became hosting. Hosting became serving. He went from a server to a line cook, until finally someone took him under their wing, and Sirius made a name for himself.

Now he was a successful chef working in a successful restaurant and he certainly had made a name for himself.

That name? Hardass.

But it took a certain intensity to run the kind of kitchen that Sirius did, and he expected nothing short of greatness from the kitchen staff.

Fortunately for Sirius, it was the restaurant manager’s fuck up that caused tonights issues.

Unfortunately for Sirius, that fucked everything up for his staff in the kitchen. 

“So, quick question for you Jeffery; did you pass year four maths?” Sirius asked earnestly, watching Jeffery shove his tongue in his cheek to avoid snapping back at the glowering chef in all his tattooed intensity. “Because last time I counted, we don’t have this many sodding tables!” He continued, pointing at the number of reservations scheduled for tonight.

“Uh oh.” You carefully called out as you walked in through the front door, in the process of shucking off your jacket as you made your way towards the bar. “Looks like you could use a drink, chef.” 

Sirius was almost mad at how much of the rage seemed to settle down into a simmer at the sight of you; he didn’t want to calm down, he wanted to ring Jeffery’s fucking neck out.

But Jeffery, the coward, had used your entrance as a means to fuck off from whatever circle of Sirius’ personal hell he’d been summoned from. 

“We’re overbooked tonight.” Sirius grumbled as he sat dejectedly at your bar; mirroring what likely most of your patrons looked like as they spent their weekday evenings with you.

“Shit luck.” you sighed commiseratingly as you poured two shots of vodka and slid one to him. “Here’s to working our sodding asses off then, hm?” You said with a smirk as you touched your glass to his and threw it back like a pro. 

And you had indeed been right; the two of you had worked your sodding asses off tonight. But the difference between the two of you was astounding.

Sirius spent most of his evening sweating, cursing, and - more embarrassingly - shouting at the poor servers looking for their orders that ‘clearly weren’t fucking ready yet, were they?!’. 

But not you. 

Alright, did he take the opportunity to run out the odd plate for the servers just to steal a glance at you? Sure. Sue him. And everytime he did, he’d pass the very busy bar which was always full of couples and groups waiting for a table to clear. None of them seemed to mind, however, as they watched you shake, throw, spin, catch bottles like it was an olympic sport; all with a smile on your face and mischief in your eyes. 

It was as if they were your captive audience and you were thriving on stage. 

Sirius wanted to stay and enjoy the show; but you were working your arse off, and Sirius should be too.

Sirius’ feet were killing him, which meant most of his staff’s feet were worse; his shoulders ached, his head was pounding, and his fingers were raw.

But they made it to the end of the shift; and he supposed that was all that mattered.

He brought out two plates of the restaurant’s famous (read: Sirius’ famous) pasta alla gricia.

You were no longer wearing your beaming smile and Sirius could now see some of the weight of the night in your shoulders and the way your hair was falling as you reorganised your bar.

“Think you can take a break?” He asked as he sat at your freshly cleared bar and placed one plate in front of him and one behind the bar for you.

You startled, which Sirius thought strange for someone who seemed so confident and assured every time he’d walked past your bar for the past almost year the two of you have worked here, but he didn’t comment on it.

“Oh my God.” You groaned appreciatively as you abandoned your task to take in the plate he’d prepared for you. “I’m starving; thank you!”

Sirius chuckled and suddenly felt shy, which he did not think suited him at all, but you were smiling at him like he was your personal angel on earth and he couldn’t help but return the gaze.

“Let me get you a drink?” You asked, but turned to start pouring him a glass of wine (perfectly suited for the dish, mind you) before he had a chance to answer. 

You placed both drinks on the bar and brought your plate around to sit on the stool beside Sirius.

The two of you ate in relative silence; allowing the stress and exhaustion from the shift to wash over you. 

“I think I made Chloe cry.” Sirius said finally, causing you to snort.

“You did.” You agreed quickly. “She came and helped me in the bar for a bit and Jeffery had to run her tables after that.”

Sirius barked a laugh as he took a sip of his wine. “I was wondering why that sod was in my kitchen. Well, I’m sorry to Chloe, but happy to have put Jeffery to work.”

Speaking of the devil; Jeffery came out front with his jacket on and a work bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I’m heading out now; are you two okay to close up?”

You smiled at him, but unfortunately for Jeffrey, Sirius responded first. “Yes we can close up.” He sneered. “We’re not new here Jeffery.”

“Thanks Jeffery, have a nice night.” You relented; giving Sirius a gentle kick in the shin.

The door shut behind the bastard and Sirius felt his shoulders relax. “I hate that sod.”

Thankfully, you only laughed at him.

“I think you hate everyone here.”

“That’s not true.” Sirius disagreed quickly.

“Well you certainly don’t like anyone here.”

“That’s not true either. I quite like you.” Sirius admitted, quickly hoping to god his cheeks didn’t flush at his impromptu admission. 

You hummed in acknowledgement with a cheeky smile on your lips. “Is that why you made me dinner? As a thanks for being the most tolerable coworker?”

“Most tolerable, certainly. Also for saving our arses tonight in the kitchen; I’m not sure how you managed to keep those folks so happy all evening.”

“Oh, that’s easy; get them drunk and steal desserts from the kitchen.”

“That’s where all my tiramisu was going?” Sirius asked in faux contempt.

You only smiled at him and shoved the last bite of your pasta in your mouth.

“You minx.” He continued, taking the now empty plates to the kitchen as you followed dutifully behind him with the glasses. 

“Get out of my kitchen.” Sirius joked, plucking the wine glasses from your hands as he moved to wash the dishes.

“I’d think not.” You argued. “I got a free meal; put me to work, chef.”

“First of all, it was not a free meal; you more than earned it after your performance tonight. Secondly, don’t call me chef.”

“Why not? You are a chef, aren’t you?” You teased as you leaned sideways against the counter to watch him work.

“Yes; but if you call me chef, what am I supposed to call you?”

Your eyebrows raised at that. “What do you mean ‘what are you supposed to call me’? My name is fine.”

“My name’s not chef.” He countered.

Your eyes narrowed challengingly at him. “What do you want to call me, Sirius?”

Mine?

“Haven’t decided yet.” He said instead, keeping his eyes on the dishes in his hands instead of meeting your gaze currently burning into the side of his head.

“Well…” You started, walking over to release some paper from the chit, and scribbling something out on it. “Why don’t you just call me…tomorrow?” You said, handing him the paper after he dried his hands on a teatowel.

Your number was scrawled out with a dainty little heart beside it.

Sirius looked back up at you to see you smiling shyly at him.

“I can assure you I will be.” He promised.

Your smile grew at that as you began walking backwards towards the backroom. 

“Have a nice night, Sirius.” You said before you exited the kitchen.

It was too late to wish him a nice night; he’d already had one.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #mutual love #sirius black #sirius being sirius #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black blurb #sirius black fic #sirius black ficlet #chef!sirius #restaurant au #ellecdc fics

[resident-gay-bitch]

From one of my upcoming ficlets :))

Edit: read Defiance & Desire now :))

#sirius is so smart but so insanely dumb about Remus #wolfstar #platonic prongsfoot #sirius black #remus lupin #James potter #jay talks #marauders #ficlet #fluff

[chasingthestarss]

Jealousy Jealousy

Just a little short thing I wrote because I wanted jealous James. It's really just a bunch of dialogue but enjoy!

Words: 955

Barty Crouch Junior was a problem.

A big problem.

The biggest problem James had ever had.

He kind of wanted to kill the guy.

James had never felt so violent as he did watching Barty lean in and whisper into Regulus’ ear.

He wanted to rip out Barty’s throat when Regulus laughed at whatever Barty whispered into his ear.

James knew he had no right to feel that way. He had no reason to want Regulus to not go near Barty. They were friends and James didn’t have any claim to Regulus. It wasn’t like Regulus was his boyfriend. And if he was James’ boyfriend, James wouldn’t have the right to tell him how to act with his friends.

He was out of his seat in seconds when Barty's hand settled on Regulus’ waist, like it belonged there or something. James wanted to cut his fucking hand off. Maybe then he would quit touching Regulus. Maybe then he would leave Regulus the fuck alone.

“Something wrong, pretty boy?” Barty smirked when James reached them.

What was he gonna do? Tell Barty to stop talking to his friend? Really why did he even walk over? What could he do other than observe violently.

“I need to talk to Regulus,” James said shortly, not giving Barty any attention.

Barty smirked. Of course he did. When was he not smirking at James? Like he knew something that James didn’t. It pissed him off.

“We’re busy,” Barty smiled at James and waved him off like some sort of child.

James wanted Barty to never talk again. Maybe he just wanted to rip out the boys vocal chords so he couldn’t whisper things in Regulus’ ear. Speaking of, that is what Barty was doing now, once more.

“Do you have a problem, Potter?” Evan chimed in as he watched James silently seethe over Barty and Regulus’ closeness.

Evan Rosier was also a problem. He was always talking to Regulus. He was always with Regulus. Why did everyone always have to be with Regulus? Why couldn’t they just leave him alone.

“No, of course not,” James muttered and stormed off to go find Sirius. Sirius needed to get Regulus away from those fucking Slytherins or James was going to rip their heads off. He couldn’t risk getting expelled.

Sirius was found lounging in Remus’ lap, talking to Marlene about something that James didn’t care about. Right now he needed his best friends.

“You okay, Prongs? You look pissed,” Remus asked, then looked behind James and laughed. “Oh, I see. Sirius, you're needed for Regulus retrieval.”

“Oh my god, just tell him you're jealous and quit bringing me into this shit!” Sirius groaned.

James may have done this more than once. But Regulus’ friends were just so handsy. Sirius was always able to get Regulus away, so James just went to him.

“Pads, please!” James whined.

“No, figure it out. Moony time,” Sirius denied as he leaned forward to place kisses on Remus’ neck.

James grumbled but walked away and sat back in his old spot. Silently seething as he watched Regulus lean into Evan, while Barty talked about something.

He lasted longer than he thought he would.

Maybe five minutes. (thirty seconds)

But then Barty Crouch Junior leaned in and kissed Regulus’ cheek and James lost it.

James stormed over, definitely shoving people as he did so. He ripped Barty away and grabbed Regulus’ arm.

“Sirius needs you,” James spoke sharply, glaring at Barty.

“Does he? I don’t see him around,” Regulus smirked up at James, his eyes twinkling with something akin to mischief.

“He does, come on,” James tugged Regulus’ arm a little, trying to get the younger boy to stand.

“I’ll wait for him to come get me. You can go tell him that. I’ll just hang out here with my friends,” Regulus retorted, shoving James’ hand off him.

“No! You can’t stay with them,” James replied.

“Why's that?” Regulus asked.

James froze. He looked at Regulus, really looked at him and saw it. Regulus was going this on purpose. He was definitely doing this on purpose. There was no way he was just being this antagonizing and mischievous for no reason. How many times had he made James jealous on purpose.

James spun to Barty and saw that he was also smirking at James. Evan too. So they all knew what they were doing. They just didn’t care.

“You were doing it on purpose?” James asked.

“Doing what on purpose, Jaime?” Regulus tilted his head in mock confusion.

“I wanted to cut your buddies hand off. What would you have done if I had done it? Would you have felt guilty? Would you feel remorse?” James questioned, leaning close enough that his breath could probably be felt on Regulus’ cheek.

“I’d probably feel turned on, actually,” Regulus challenged

“Oh yeah?” James taunted.

“What can I say? You’re hot when you’re jealous. So are you going to act now or keep seething in your little chair? Because I’ve been waiting for you to do something. I'm tired of waiting for Jamie. I have other options, Barty for example," Regulus gestured vaguely in Barty’s direction.

“Hell yeah!” Barty agreed moving towards Regulus.

“No.” James snarled, turning to him furiously.

“I told you it was hot,” Regulus chimes. James is sure if he was talking to him or Barty but he doesn’t care.

“Come on, let me show you how hot jealousy can be,” James pulled Regulus a little gesturing toward his dorm room with his head.

“Jealousy sex! Jealousy sex! Jealousy sex!” Barty cheered in the background.

“Shut up Barty,” Evan groaned.

James may hate Barty Crouch Junior, but that was some of the best sex he had had.

#marauders era #dead gay wizards #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #jegulus ficlet #jegulus short fic #jegulus my beloved #jealous james potter #he has my heart #barty crouch junior #i love him so much #barty crouch junior is a little shit #we all know it #evan rosier helps #but he is not as much of a problem #we love that bcj is a problem #bartylus #but not really #sirius black #remus lupin #theyre there

[oxydiane]

'Now, Sirius, I think we can calm –'

'Don't!' Sirius interrupts the older man abruptly. 'Don't 'Sirius' me, I am not here as one of your old students or a member of the Order. I am here as a guardian who is demanding to know why the fuck you let my eleven-year-old on a jinxed broom.'

'I think there's been a misunderstanding here, what happened –'

'What happened –' Dumbledore's words are cut short yet again. 'Is I came all the way here from London to see my Godson play his first game on the house team and ended up with at least three new grey hairs because somebody cursed his racing broom! The racing broom I got him when he made the team.'

'I think your hair is as lovely as ever,'

'Shut the hell up! I want to know how that happened, how you let it happen and why the one responsible hasn't been found and kicked out of here, as far from Harry as possible!'

'You see... There were some... complications.'

'I'll show you complications!' Sirius' hands come down heavy on Dumbledore's office desk. 'You promised he would be safe here, and I trusted you not because I actually do trust, but because you are supposed to be the most powerful wizard alive, and you don't want to make me your enemy.' The venom is thick in his words.

'I promise you Harry is as safe as he could be.'

'Well, make it safer. I don't care how safe you think this place here is because Harry, the – the last good thing that's left in my life,' Dumbledore doesn't miss the quick way emotion seeps through Sirius' voice and face. It disappears as rapidly as it came. 'Harry could have died today, right in front of my eyes, and I will not have that. You understand me? Not even if I have to hunt down that person myself and take the entire castle down as I do. Do you understand?'

'Yes, I do.' His tone is anything but mocking.

Right before turning around and leaving the room, the door slammed as he left, Sirius bellows 'Good. Nobody, NOBODY, curses my Godson! If you mess with Harry, you mess with me, and you do not want to mess with me!'

#i thought about this in the shower #bad writing hehe sorry #soo writes #good godfather sirius black #harry potter #sirius black #albus dumbledore #sirius raising harry #sirius raises harry #but fr why did nobody apparently indagate that #wtv #philosopher’s stone #harry james potter #sirius raises harry au #protective sirius black #protective parent sirius black #writing #no beta #ficlet #couldn’t get it out of my head

[momo-t-daye]

“Hey, Sirius,” said James Potter, “Why has Snape got your scarf?" “The little asshole was whinging about being cold,” Sirius shrugged, unconcerned by the chilly evening air. “I thought he might gag himself but no luck yet.” “Huh,” said James.

“I still think it’s just a marketing ploy,” the little asshole swathed in woolen scarves said thoughtfully.  “Everyone knows he doesn’t sell firewhiskey to students and his butterbeer is near rancid, but once you’ve hiked all the way up here to check out the goat it’s almost a waste of time to not buy something.” “A giant goat is quite the statement given his, ah, past legal entanglements,” Narcissa said with the sort of obvious delicacy that teetered dangerously close to turning suggestive. “It really must be seen to be believed and the last few have hardly lasted any time at all.” “It looks so flammable,” Lily Evans gushed, bubbling with malicious anticipation. The best thing about the magical world, Lily maintained, was the sheer number of holiday traditions that eventually included lighting something on fire.  Her mother’s nerves had never been up for a proper Bonfire Night and Cokeworth’s Catholics weren’t the type to celebrate it either.

“Hey, Sirius,” said James Potter, “Why has Snape got MY scarf?" “Because Evans said it was cold and you gave her your scarf to be gallant and she then handed your scarf over to him” Sirius replied, without any worries over his best friend’s apparent memory issues. “Right,” said James.

“He’s bound to have put up some anti-arson charms on this one after the fiasco with Dumbledore’s pet phoenix last year and inexplicable triple lightning strikes the year before,” Severus scoffed.  “If it’s properly phoenix-proofed— and I doubt the rest of Hogsmeade would allow him to put another goat up that wasn’t properly phoenix-proofed— we’d need a miracle to burn it down without being caught.” “We’ve got the blessings of tradition with us, Sev,” Lily replied. “Can’t you see? The goat must burn again!”

“Hey, Sirius,” said James Potter, “Why has Snape got Remus’ scarf?" “Because I was foolish enough to take my scarf off inside and Snape picked it up and put it and just looked at me when I asked for my scarf back,” Remus interjected, slightly bitter at his ignoble defeat. “Gosh,” said James.

“Twice is hardly sufficient grounds to claim a tradition,” Narcissa opined. “Three is a far more magically significant number.” “So you’re saying it’s up to us to ensure the sacred fires once more hold back the darkness!” Lily said, full of pyromaniacal resolution. “I say it’ll take planning and proper intelligence gathering, neither of which I’m inclined to do while my mouth still tastes like something died in the Hog’s Head butterbeer barrels,” Severus sighed. “Let’s stop at the Three Broomsticks, Potter will buy us all a round of the special seasonal cinnamon spiced butterbeer, and we’ll work on preparations back at school.”

“Hey,” said James Potter.  “Why hasn’t Snape got—” “Unlike you all, I know better than to leave my clothes and stuff unattended in Snape’s vicinity,” Peter interrupted, smugly snug and cozy. “Oh,” said James. It really was quite cold.

_______

For an assortment @snapecelebration's Snoliday 2023 prompts

#Severus Snape #Snolidays2023 #Snapecelebration #self-indulgent AU #Lily Evans #Narcissa Black #James Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Peter Pettigrew #Snolidays #my art #ficlet

[rmwb-fanfics]

Harry was very aware of footsteps. He had to be.

He’d needed the skill to determine which of his relatives had come to wake him up every morning.

He’d needed to know if he’d receive dust coming down from the stairs as his cousin jumped up and down obnoxiously above.

Or perhaps the rapid knocking of his Aunt Petunia. Forever impatient with Harry’s groggy morning tendencies.

Or, worse still, Uncle Vernon’s lazy opening of the cupboard door. A mumbled “Get up,” as he shuffled off to the kitchen.

Harry had come to know Sirius’s steps as well. They were quiet. Years of sneaking around after hours and running from the Ministry had left him a master of going audibly unnoticed.

Though, when Harry caught it, it was always his heels that gave him away. Scraping on the floor as the man trudged down the many flights of stairs in his childhood home. His old prison regaining its title for caging the pride of Sirius Black.

That knowledge held within Harry’s mind was worthless now, however. Because as the June sun beat down on his tired skin, Harry knew that he’d never hear those footsteps again.

He’d never hear that lazy slide of a heel. Not from Sirius, anyway.

Because those footsteps were lost. Tumbling back behind a veil Harry no longer cared to understand.

It should’ve been Bellatrix, or Wormtail, or anyone other than the one man who had stood up for him. Who had reached through the darkness of Harry’s mind and pulled him to safer, warmer shores.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was. The prophecy, the war, the scars on the back of his hand.

It wasn’t fair to his friends, who had grown attached to a boy doomed to become a murderer, or die in his refusal to do so.

It wasn’t fair to his parents, who had sacrificed their lives for a chance at destroying a shell of a man too afraid to let the inevitable claim his wounded soul.

Harry’s eyes are closed. The light and colour of the world shuttered behind the impenetrable red glow of the back of his eyelids. His back pressed against a tree that had lost so much of its comfort in light of the memory of a boy tormenting his classmate. Of friends and future loves saying things only his nightmares could’ve imagined.

He didn’t care about that now, however. All he thought now was that Sirius had once sat here. His eyes alight with mischief and life. Something Harry had only seen glimpses of. Like a ghost at the end of an unending corridor.

The ebb and flow of the shallow waves from the lake kept his mind at bay. It’s murky depths maintaining his sanity. Letting them hold him up.

He hears footsteps, then. Grass getting pressed into the ground under determined steps. Twigs cracking and bending to the sheer will of whoever was coming.

Harry releases a pained sigh. The tranquility of the moment slipping away with each impending step.

They are neither graceful nor clumsy. Each fall is deliberate, understanding. They’re light, which means it isn’t one of the boys, unless Colin Creevey had come looking for an autograph.

It isn’t Hermione, who marched anywhere she went, while somehow managing to be delicate and hesitant.

Then, as the steps near his place, seated against a tree, they stop. He hears the rumple of robes, and the staticky sound of thousands of strands of grass being folded down under the weight of someone sitting down.

Harry’s irritation swells in his chest. He’d came here to be alone. To sink in his despair and let the world take hold of him. He’d made himself very clear without saying a word to his friends. They’d understood. He’d seen it in Ron’s eyes and Hermione’s frown.

He hears the creak of leather bindings, and the ruffle of pages. Then, the unfamiliar click of a muggle pen. A sound he hadn’t heard in years, really. Save for Mr. Weasley’s incessant questions on the things over the summer.

His throat dry, his voice harsh, Harry says, “I don’t want to talk,”

There’s no immediate response. Just the sound of someone scribbling away on parchment.

“I know,” his mysterious companion mumbled. Her voice like a song in the breeze. He shouldn’t be surprised now, after a year full of them, that it was Ginny Weasley.

She continues to write, and Harry keeps his eyes shut. He can feel the tickle of hair dancing on his right arm. The wind blowing it onto his bicep.

“What are you writing?” he asks as the dull scratching becomes a monotone ringing in his ears.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to talk?” Ginny’s writing stops, and Harry feels his lips quirk upward slightly.

He doesn’t respond. Instead choosing to shift his legs into a more comfortable position. Giving his knees a break and letting the blood move through them.

“I’m writing a story,” she explains after a long silence filled with the distant cheers of simpler lives and waves rolling up a gravelly shore.

“What’s it about?” Harry asks, his voice lighter this time.

Ginny huffs a quiet laugh. “You don’t get the details. You can read it once it’s finished,”

Harry unwinds his arms and let’s them fall comfortably into his lap. “Will I get a free copy?”

“Maybe,” is Ginny’s shrewd response.

Again a silence lapses between them. Harry’s chest rises and falls with every breath.

Every breath he is still here, on one side of a veil.

“It’s about a girl,” Ginny says eventually. He swears he can see her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her freckled nose twitching in the breeze. “She’s awake and she knows what she wants. She’s happy,”

Harry nods slowly, his eyes stay shut.

“I hope you let me read it some time,”

“Maybe,”

And for hours there was nothing but silent writing, and Harry’s thoughts strayed from Sirius, from the prophecy, and from his parents.

He wanted to know about the girl who knew what she wanted. Who was happy.

#harry potter #ficlet #ootp missing moment #missing moments #ginny weasley #harry x ginny #head canon #hp fanfcition #hinny #sirius black

[ellorypurebloodculture]

FSF

James Potter/Sirius Black (any gender combination)

Hope your day is lovely

Thank you, Pen! I hope yours is also 💖

*******

When Master Sirius Black completes his Animagus transformation for the first time, Heir James Potter's heart clenches fiercely in his chest.

"Oh, Siri," James rasps as he drops to his knees.

It's no wonder that James, as a descendant of Death Itself, has been inexorably drawn to Sirius since the moment that they meant; Sirius's Animagus form is a Grim--Death's beloved companion.

He strokes Sirius's pitch-black fur as their magic resonates, his heart in his throat, and knows that their fates are entwined, that they are meant for one another, and that he will never love another.

"Bond with me, Siri," James says, more of a statement of foregone conclusion than a question, a smile curling his lips as Sirius "woofs" his agreement.

#ellory writes #five sentence ficlet friday #james potter/sirius black #starbucks

[jegulily-stuff]

Remus, sitting in the Potters' kitchen: And Jugson keeps being an arse about my sick leave. Sirius said we should break his legs but I think I'd get fired for that. I don't know what to do.

Lily: You've come to the right place. Reg, happen to know any of Jugson's dark secrets?

Regulus, not looking up from sketching: He licks poisonous frogs to get high - keeps them in his snuffbox.

Lily: Brilliant. Now James, imagine you're 14 again and you're trying to slip someone a potion as a prank, how would you do that to Remus' boss?

James, excited: Well at Hogwarts I'd have tried to get something into the drinks while they were still in the kitchen. Jugson makes other people get him coffee - I remember you complaining - so I'd intercept that and put the potion in his cup before it even gets to his table.

Lily: So, Remus, what youre going to do is take the toad venom I give you, slip it into his coffee - it won't kill him but he'll have to go to St Mungo's. Mungo's'll advise Poison Control to investigate - don't forget to wash the cup out. They'll find the frogs, Jugson'll lose his license to work in household monster removal or whatever your job's called. We can always tip them off about the snuffbox. How's that?

Remus: That's uh... wow... you're really efficient.

Lily: Yeah, I think we could use this to run the country.

#(james goes into politics and they do use it to run the country) #is this incorrect quotes anymore or is it a ficlet lmao #jegulily #wolfstar #lily evans #james potter #regulus black #remus lupin #sirius black #jegulus #regulily #script #my posts

[stars-a-n-d-scars]

Betrayal

“Sirius, wait-” Remus begged, reaching for his husband’s arm to stop him from leaving.

“No!” Sirius spun around, tears in his eyes. “How could you Remus? How could you? I thought you loved me!”

“I do love you, it was a mistake, it didn’t mean anythin-”

“Well clearly it meant more than a fifteen year relationship of you were willing to throw everything we had away for it! I can fucking smell him on you, Remus”

“You don’t get it! I didn’t mean to, but he was so cute, and it just happened, and I thought of you the whole time. Please don’t blow this out of proportion” Remus begged, trying to make him see just how much he regretted it.

Sirius just scoffed.

“I want a divorce”

“Sirius. We’re not getting divorced just because I patted another dog!”

#wolfstar #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders era #ficlet #wolfstar oneshot

[mycupofrum]

I know u like prongsfoot as a ship but can u write prongsfoot as a bromance ficlet... Where sirius comforts james? No ooc characters but no need to tell you that

Thanks for the ask @medasavagepotter! 💙 Sorry it took me a while to get it done. Turns out writing James and Sirius as only friends was harder than my Prongsfoot-infused brain expected. I didn't mean for the story to get so sad, but here we are. I hope you get some comfort from this, despite the hurt.

James & Sirius. Gen. Hurt/comfort, angst, implied character death(s) (but no main characters die), implied Jily. Read here or on AO3.

__

Regardless (I love you)

It started with a soup.

James found it on his nightstand when he returned to the boys' dormitory from Quidditch practice. He was knackered and soaked to the bone from the storm raging outside.

He stared at the bowl, blinking. The aroma of rich, savoury chicken soup flooded his nose, the stasis charm keeping it warm. It made him salivate and his stomach grumble.

"Sirius?" He turned to face his best friend who was lounging on his bed with a book about ancient runes in his hands.

Sirius raised his gaze to James. "Yes?"

"Did you get this soup for me?"

Sirius turned his focus back to his reading. "Obviously. Moony's still tired from the end of his monthly cycle –"

"Oi!" Remus grunted sleepily from his bed beneath three covers, the full moon having just been two nights ago.

"– and Wormy was planning to ask Macdonald out for the whole evening, but he chickened out at the last minute."

"Easy for you to say, Prince Charming," Peter muttered from his own bed. "I'll do it tomorrow."

"Sure." Sirius smirked. "So, that leaves me."

James waited for Sirius to explain why he'd done something so nice for him but did not get an explanation. He sat down on his own bed; there was no point in questioning it, really. He was starving after the practice, which had taken longer than expected and caused him to miss dinner.

"Thanks, mate. I appreciate it."

Sirius turned a page, a faint, softer smile hiding in the corner of his mouth.

"No problem."

__

The small, unexpected acts of kindness followed, and James could not point out why they happened. Every time he faced something that annoyed or made him uncomfortable, or was even somewhat inconvenient, Sirius made it better.

He never made a big deal about it, and James could have easily dismissed it as a lucky coincidence that Sirius was so quick to block certain Slytherins' hexes for him automatically in the corridors, or happened to know James would need more broom wax right when his old one had run out and ordered it for him beforehand, or let James have a nap in most History of Magic classes and took notes for him (whereas they normally took turns in this), or insisted on paying for both of their butterbeers at Hogsmeade. (And when James found extra packages of his favourite liquorice and fudge in his trunk later, he knew who was behind it.)

James thanked Sirius each time and went on as if nothing had happened, because that was how Sirius preferred it.

But of course, James noticed. Truth be told, it filled him with fondness like no other for Sirius, but it also made him suspicious.

Sirius had left Grimmauld Place for good in the summer and moved in with James's family. He assumed Sirius felt compelled to pay their kindness back by showering James with extra attention and gifts, knowing how much he valued those things.

It was truly unnecessary, of course, because no matter what happened between them, even if they got into a big row (which was unlikely, but still), neither James nor his parents would ever send Sirius away.

"You know, Pads, it's okay. I can do and buy things for myself. I don't expect you to fulfil my every wish," James said when he found a spell book about 19th century experimental transfiguration in his school bag one morning, which actually made him thrilled, and he couldn't wait to read it.

"I know. I just thought, since I could, why not?" Sirius sat on his bed, pulling socks onto his feet.

"And I'm grateful for it. But it's okay if you don't."

Sirius shrugged and tucked a loose strand of silky black hair behind his ear. The grey eyes were fixed on his hands, and he began picking at his nails. "Sure, whatever you want."

"How about I let you know when I need you to go a little overboard for me?" James suggested, sitting next to him on the bed and bumping his shoulder with his own. "For each birthday and Christmas, I expect the full Sirius Black attention service."

Sirius nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Okay."

__

Four birthdays and Christmases later, school was but a distant memory. The house he grew up in was empty, nothing but memories left behind in all its nooks and corners.

James leaned against the kitchen counter, his chest heavy. He'd been putting off the visit for three months since the joint funeral. He needed to sort things out, make decisions he couldn't make. What was the point when the two people who had loved him so unconditionally were gone?

He'd never felt more alone in the world as he did then. He took a shaky breath, one, two, three, four, and let it out.

It didn't help.

He'd told Lily he'd be fine. She was pregnant, she should rest; he could deal with this.

He'd lied. She'd known.

James took another shaky breath, and the burning sensation in his eyes turned into tears, blurring his vision.

He didn't know how long he sat on the floor, the silence around him heavy, when it was broken by the wards alerting him of an arriving guest. This was followed by a knock on the front door.

James stood up stiffly, his feet tingling from the blood returning to them. He opened the door and was met with a tall, familiar figure.

"Hi, Prongs," Sirius said, taking in James's demeanour. "Lils said you'd be here. I thought I should come by and help you with the packing."

James managed a nod and moved away from the entrance, allowing Sirius to enter.

"How are you doing?" Sirius said as they reached the kitchen, where everything still stood in its place.

"I'm fine," James said, the words falling naturally off his lips, untrue.

Sirius sighed, and James realised he was carrying a white plastic bag with him.

Sirius took out two containers from the bag and placed them on the table. "I brought soup."

The smell of delicious, savoury aromas filled the air, reminding James that it had been hours since he had eaten.

He let Sirius fish out spoons for them from the cabinet drawer, knowing his way around the kitchen as well as James did.

"Cheers, mate."

"S'alright. My treat." Sirius sat across from him, and they ate quietly, the creamy chicken soup warming up James like a cosy blanket.

"I thought you were busy with the Order today."

"I'm right where I'm needed."

James looked up from his soup to meet Sirius's searching gaze. "I think you might be right."

Sirius quirked his brow. "I'm always right."

Unexpectedly, James's lips turned upwards just for a moment. It was the first smile he'd had in a long while. "A lot of the time," he agreed.

"Most of the time." Sirius grinned, twirling the spoon in his hand.

"Whatever, Pads. Just eat your soup."

Somehow, the silence that followed was a little bit easier.

__

#asks answered #ficlet game #sirius black #james potter #my writing #james & sirius #sirius & james #james and sirius #sirius and james

[tracingpatternswrites]

Some Prongsfoot love, for @narcissa-black-supermacy because she’s been good and done her work so she gets another little ficlet.

(Most of it under a cut because of length)

Sirius Black is a magical person. 

It’s just not the generations of pure, magical blood flowing through his veins – it’s something more. It’s in the way that he moves, the way magic seems to flow effortlessly from his fingertips whether it’s in class, on the Quidditch pitch or when they’re playing magical tag in the grounds outside of Hogwarts. 

It’s in the way that James can feel his own magic ripple and surge whenever he’s close to Sirius. It’s in the way his skin prickles when Sirius runs long fingers down his spine, when his breath tickles against the back of James’ neck. James feels it at the sound of bare feet against the stone cold floors of the castle, the rustle of fabric as his drapes are pushed aside.

James is used to the feel of magic. The house he grew up in was filled with it, his parents’ and ancestors’ magic had always wrapped around him like a comforting blanket, offering him protection from the moment he was born. The Potter estate looked after him, generations of magic sheltering him. His family’s magic means safety.

Sirius’ magic is different.

Sirius’ magic is explosive, bursting out of him, leaving no-one in doubt about his presence or ability. His magic is overwhelming, all-consuming, and had James been any less capable himself he might have found it intimidating. He knew that other people did. Other people looked at Sirius, saw his power, his name, his heritage, and they became apprehensive around him. 

James didn’t.

James thrived with him. Together they pushed further, flew faster, climbed higher as they roamed the castle, the grounds, the forest and beyond. James thought he hadn’t properly lived before Sirius came into his life, slotting into place like a missing piece, making the world more colourful, more vibrant. 

People thought that he was the one who had saved Sirius, offering him a place to live after his family had disowned him, but James knew the truth. James knew that it had been the other way around. James might not have needed to be saved, but still that was what Sirius had done. He turned James’ world upside down, showed him what it was to be alive, and for that James owed him everything.

He heard the girls at school talk about love, with hushed voices and loud giggles, flushed cheeks and shining eyes, and he knew they didn’t get it. Love was nothing like what was written on the glossy pages of Witch Weekly. At least not being in love with Sirius Black.

Being in love with Sirius Black was an all-consuming, relentless, uncontrollable wave. It had swept James off his feet, and he had long since stopped pretending he had any control. Sometimes it scared him, the realisation that he would do anything to keep Sirius in his life, that there wouldn’t be any James left, if Sirius wasn’t there.

But then Sirius looks at him, silvery eyes gleaming in the darkness that surrounds them, and smiles the small, private smile that only James ever gets to see before draping himself across James, nosing along his collarbone with a satisfied little sigh. And James can wrap his arms around him, hold him close, feel him settle like a comforting weight across his body. Sirius hums in contentment and interlaces their legs, and James knows he has everything he needs in life within his four poster bed.

He will never let that go.

#prongsfoot #james potter #sirius black #ficlet #dani tag #my writing

[ellecdc]

Okay I’m sorry I’m spamming you! But what about a Sirius and reader one where he is hitting on her but she doesn’t realize it(ya know insecurity about no one else wanting her) so she just assumes he is trying to get close to her to get to her friend so she just kinda stops him and introduces him to her friend(not showing how she is disappointed but pretending to be happy) and leaves then her friend explains her habits to Siri and so he tries harder/not his úsale antics and it all works out 🫣💕

Ps feel free to ignore any and all that you don’t want do 💕

hi sweets! thanks for your prompts and for your patience with me getting this back to you! here's a quick little fluffy blurb.

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through older requests~

Sirius Black x fem!reader

You weren’t even sure how you ended up at this party; you didn’t really enjoy parties, you didn’t really know these people, and you didn’t really drink – though you were certainly trying.

But you were a good friend and Elle really didn’t ask much of you, so you relented to her promise that she’d stick by your side the whole night.

Which she technically was, except that her back was currently turned to you as she hit on the Ravenclaw sitting beside her.

You were very busy pretending the inside of your nearly empty cup was quite interesting when you felt the sofa dip beside you. Sitting beside you - in all his dark-hair-pulled-back-haphazardly, leather jacket, ripped jeans and tattooed glory - was the infamous Sirius Black. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these parties before.” He said with a smirk. “I’m Sirius.”

You breathed out a chuckle and tried to duck away from his gaze. “I know who you are, Sirius.” You murmured.

His smile only seemed to grow in your periphery as he tried to duck back into your line of sight. “And I know who you are, but usually it’s polite to introduce yourself to people at parties.”

You sighed and gave him your name, which he rewarded you with a beaming smile – sharp canines on full display.

“Are you having a good time?” He asked, leaning back casually with his arm behind you on the back of the sofa.

“Yeah.” You offered quickly and not at all convincingly, trying not to get caught staring at the tattoos poking out from the collar of his shirt.

“Oh, so you’re a liar.” He said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes and ignored the burning in your cheeks at being a) so painfully obvious and b) caught lying.

“I hope I didn’t offend you; I bet with my luck this was your party or something.”

“Who’d you come with?” He asked instead, sounding alarm bells inside your head.

“Oh, erm, my friend Elle.” You offered plainly. His eyebrows raised slightly as he nodded.

“Oh, I know Elle; we have Herbology together, I think."

You nodded and looked to your hands. "Yeah, she's in that class."

"Do you guys hang out a lot?” He asked, sounding genuinely interested.

You hummed in acknowledgement and took a sip from your nearly room temperature drink. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever talked to her before, mind you...” 

You decided to just cut this conversation short and get to the point, saving both you and Sirius from unnecessary pleasantries and small talk. 

You - not at all gently - shook Elle’s shoulder, interrupting her conversation with the Ravenclaw.

“Hey, you know Sirius, right?” You asked her as you stood, motioning to Sirius who was now sitting only one (now empty) seat away from her. Elle’s eyebrows furrowed but she looked over at Sirius and smiled politely. 

“Yeah, I think we have Herbology together.” She offered. 

“Perfect!” You said, feeling only slightly bitter. “I’ll give you guys some space then.” And you headed towards the drinks to refill your cup.

Sirius can honestly say that...that...had never happened to him before.

“I’m sorry...erm, what’s going on?” Elle asked him, looking between your retreating form and him.

Sirius smiled in apology and turned his gaze from you to your friend. “Uhm, I was sort of hoping you could tell me? I thought I was finally going to get a chance to make a move on your friend tonight.”

Suddenly, understanding seemed to paint Elle’s features and she let out a hearty laugh.

“That knob head.” She insulted you, though her tone was full of affection. 

Sirius laughed along, albeit awkwardly.

“I’m afraid I’m not following.” He admitted.

Elle shook her head and rolled her eyes in exasperation. “She does this. She doesn’t think anyone might possibly be interested in her, and you probably made the mistake of mentioning my name.”

Sirius felt his cheeks pink as he looked back over to the drink station where you were saying hello to Peter. 

“I just thought it would get the conversation going, you know? I love talking about my friends.” He explained. 

“You’ll have to be a little more direct with her.” Elle offered.

Sirius smirked (somewhat deviously if you asked Elle).  

“Consider it done.” He proclaimed, standing with a flourish before stalking off towards you at the drink table. 

“Now that was just cold, Y/N.” You heard Sirius bark as he entered your field of vision.

“I’m...sorry?”

“Sic’ing me on your friend back there. You know, if you didn’t want to talk to me, you could have just said so!” He lamented with an exhausted sigh.

“I-what? I did want to talk to you!”

Sirius laughed. “You could have fooled me!”

“I thought you wanted to talk to Elle!” You shouted back, slightly embarrassed to note that a few of Sirius’ friends and other party goers were turning their attention to you.

Sirius’ face softened slightly as he smiled at you. “I’m sure she’s very nice, but she wasn’t who I was trying to flirt with tonight.”

You felt your heart trying to escape through your throat and worked hard to swallow it back down. “She wasn’t?” You all but whispered.

“No. And, she told me to tell you that you are a knob head.”

A laugh was surprised out of you as you turned to make eye contact with Elle, who shot you a wink and an encouraging thumbs up. 

“You really weren’t trying to get me to introduce you to her?”

“No!”

“You were...trying to flirt with me?”

He rolled his eyes but kept his answer short. “Yes.” 

You laughed in both embarrassment and excitement at the idea that the school’s heartthrob was flirting with you.

“Well then, Sirius, I’m very sorry I left you to the dogs back there.”

Sirius laughed hard at that, making you feel like you were missing out on some inside joke. “That’s okay, dollface. I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hogsmeade, this weekend. As a date in case that wasn’t clear.” He said, leaning against the table resting one hand near yours as he stared into your eyes.

“With you?” 

His eyebrows furrowed before he realized you were fucking with him.

“Yes, with me. Merlin, you make a bloke work hard, eh?” He chuckled, daring to brush your fingers with his from their place on the table.

“Alright. Hogsmeade, this weekend, as a date, with you. Sounds fair enough.” You repeated.

“I’d sure hope so. It was absolute torture sitting with Elle over there.” He scoffed sarcastically.

“You wanker!” You heard Elle shout from across the room. 

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius orion black #sirius being sirius #sirius black fic #the marauders #marauders #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet #ellecdc fics

[resident-gay-bitch]

Sirius Black has been in a whopping total of one relationship. In fourth year, he had a very lovely girlfriend by the name of Mary McDonald. He and Mary are still good friends and he adores her wholeheartedly, and their relationship was really just a bit of good fun.

Sirius Black has kissed a whopping total of sixteen people. All, except Mary, have meant nothing more than a fleeting kiss and a bit of fun. Fourteen of them have been girls, and two very secret ones have been blokes.

Usually, when Sirius gets kissed by whatever fling he’s having at that time, it’s because they want him to shut up. Sirius has a tendency to ramble. He goes on these long, extravagant rants about things that excite him or boil his blood. He gossips and rambles and chatters until his mouth is dry and his jaw hurts too much to say anything else.

He annoys people. He knows that. He’s working on it, slowly. He’s not getting very far, in all these years of trying. He knows this because when he talks for more than three minuets straight, his current make out buddy will just pull him into a kiss and shut him up for a while. And then, if he starts talking again afterwards, they’ll huff and roll their eyes and that’s when Sirius finally stops. He sinks in on himself and hides away and won’t say much about anything for hours.

Sirius only really gets spontaneously kissed when he’s being annoying. He knows this now. And he hates it.

He’s really trying, but he struggles. He struggles so much, it’s just so hard to shut up sometimes when you have such strong emotions like he does.

But he never expected to be too much for James.

He’s rambling, he knows he is. But James never seems to huff or roll his eyes. Sometimes it seems like he zones out and doesn’t listen, but Sirius honestly doesn’t even mind, because James is still there. He might be in his own head, but he’s always still there, and eventually he’ll tune back in and nod along and even ask questions which prompts Sirius to talk even more.

So when Sirius has been rambling for the better part of ten minuets, and James suddenly grabs him and drags him into a quick kiss, Sirius shuts down.

His best friend in the whole world just made him shut up. He’s even gotten insufferable to James. And he knows he’s going on and gossiping about things James doesn’t care about, but if he really doesn’t want to listen he could have just asked.

He didn’t need to make Sirius feel like shit about it.

And it doesn’t help that Sirius has been dreaming about kissing James for years now.

He shuts off, stops talking, and brings his knees up to his chest, “Sorry.” Sirius mutters, and closes his eyes for a moment.

He wants to cry, but he refuses to be so annoying in front of James.

“Sorry?” James asked, sounding confused and kind of offended, “Sorry.” James repeated, and he sounded kind of gutted.

He knows. The worst part is that he knows. He figured it out. He must have. He knows, just from one simple kiss that Sirius is madly in love with him, and that he too hates himself for talking too much. He’s just ruined everything with his inability to shut his fucking mouth.

James has probably been waiting for Sirius to shut up since he got into the dorm, and the only way he could figure out to do it was to kiss his mouth shut.

Sirius is going to cry. He can’t bring himself to say anything before he crawls out of James’ bed curtains and climbs into his own. He draws them shut and curls up under the covers, casting a silencing charm around him before crying himself a headache.

James pokes his head into the curtain after a while. And Sirius really tries his best to not cry more but he can’t help it, he’s so annoying that his cries outweigh the fucking charm.

Just like his mother said. Insufferable chatterbox. He should have let her sew his mouth shut.

“I’m sorry.” James said, sitting at the very end of Sirius’ bed, knees curled to his chest and cheeks stained with sticky tears.

Sirius couldn’t bring himself to say anything, too afraid it would annoy James more. He hates annoying his friends, especially James. Oh, James.

“I shouldn’t have-“ James cleared his throat, “I know we’re best friends, but… well, I suppose we’re not now. But you’re- you’re the one person I’ve always trusted, and you already know, so I’m just gonna say it, okay? I’m… I’m queer.”

Sirius tensed and looked at James, “What?”

“I’m queer.” James confirmed, “And I- I’m sorry I just… I thought maybe you- maybe you felt the same. Sometimes I wonder… when you… you look at me like- like I’m… I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s all so- I’m so fucking stupid.” James sniffled, rubbing the back of his palm on his nose, “I don’t want to lose you over some stupid feelings, and I know you hate me. I’m sorry your stupid best friend is a queer, I know it’s- I’m… I’m sorry, okay. But I need you to know- I’ve always wanted you to know.”

“You’re…” Sirius sat up, pulling the blankets to his chest, “You’re queer?”

James nodded, “Please don’t tell anyone.” He looked at Sirius through glassy eyes, “Please don’t hate me.”

“James I-“ Sirius launched himself forward, placing his hand over James’ and squeezing it tight, “I’d never hate you. Never. Why would you- Jamie… I’m… me too, okay. I’m… I’m queer too.”

“What?” James sniffled, “You are?”

Sirius nodded, “But I don’t understand what this has to do with me… with me needing to shut up.”

“It has nothing to do with- Sirius…” James pleaded, dipping his head to search Sirius’ eyes, “Where did you get the impression I wanted you to shut up.”

“You kissed me, James!” Sirius defended, “People only ever kiss me like that when I’m being annoying- need to shut up. I… you found my stupid rambling so annoying that you needed to shut me-“

“I don’t find your rambling annoying or stupid, Pads- I’m… don’t you… wait- people do that? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m ashamed, obviously, James.” Sirius sobbed, bringing his hands to his eyes, “You’re stuck with a best friend who can’t shut his mouth. Why would I annoy you more by rambling about my petty problems that are entirely my own fault.”

“Because you’re my best friend.” James muttered, pulling Sirius’ hands away from his face, “And you’re meant to tell me these things so I can protect you from them… oh, Sirius, love, I’m so sorry.” James frowned and wiped some of Sirius’ tears away with the calloused pads of his thumbs, “I’m so sorry people treat you that way. I don’t feel like that, love. You know I enjoy your rambling, I love the sound of your voice. It brings me so much comfort.”

Sirius sniffled, “So why would you shut me up like that?”

“Sirius…” James tipped his head with coy smile, “I didn’t shut you up, love. I kissed you.”

“I don’t understand.” Sirius whispered.

“Sirius…” James pressed, “I kissed you.”

Sirius could only blink at him, the dots unable to connect themselves in his head.

James smiled, huffed a soft breath through his nose that Sirius took as an amused sort of laugh. They looked at eachother for a moment, and only a short moment before James was cupping Sirius’ cheeks and pulling him in close to kiss.

This time when James kissed him, it wasn’t to quiet Sirius. It was simply to kiss him. And James kissed him deeply, breathing a heavy sigh through his nose at first contact. His fingers dug deeper into the plush of Sirius’ cheeks and he opened his mouth, slipped in his tongue, and moaned a contented sigh. James kissed Sirius because he wants to kiss Sirius.

Because James seems to feel the same way.

“Oh.” Sirius muttered when the kiss broke, both desperate for air, “You fancy me.”

“Bingo, love.” James murmured, smiling dreamily up at him. His cheeks were flushed, his lips all wet and swollen, his eyes all glassy and soft. He looked positively chaffed to have just done that, and Sirius found his heart leaping out of his chest at the sight.

“You weren’t kissing me to shut me up?”

James shook his head, “I kissed you because every time you go one one of those rants I fight the urge to kiss you all over. Sometimes I even zone out completely and come up with a whole scenario in my head where I kiss you, and you kiss me back, and sometimes we shag and sometimes we don’t, and we lay in bed together, and I get to lay on your chest and listen to it vibrate as you ramble some more. Sometimes I imagine falling asleep to it, to you, because I love you, you make me feel safe. The sound of your voice makes me feel safe, Sirius.”

“Oh.” Came a shattered sob out of Sirius’ mouth, and he melted. James laughed at him softly, wiping the tears in Sirius’ eyes and pulling him in tight for a hug. He even went so far as to scatter kisses all over Sirius’ head.

“I promise I only interrupted you because I found you so unbelievably beautiful in every way that I simply couldn’t resist anymore. I’m so sick of holding back and waiting.” James leant down to kiss his brow, “I don’t want to wait anymore. I want you now.”

“I want you now, too.” Sirius muttered, curling into James, “You make me feel safe too, Jamie.”

“I know, love.” James chuckled, “You tell me all the time.”

Sirius blushed and wrapped himself tighter around James, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yeah.” James muttered, and couldn’t stop smiling about it.

“I love you.” Sirius whispered as his lips brushed against James’. He pressed a singular, soft little kiss there before whispering more, “I’m sorry if I annoy you with-“

“You don’t. You can’t.” James promised, kissing him again, “Sometimes I wish I was the only person you’d ramble to, so I might get to be special.”

“You are.” Sirius smiled, “You’re the only person who doesn’t find it insufferable.”

“You’re the only person I’d never find insufferable.” James grinned and kissed him hard and deep again. It lingered for a while, the kiss, until their lips were swollen and they were panting for air. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” Sirius promised, “The person I save my most special rambles for.”

James giggled, “And I’m yours. The person who could listen you nonstop talk for the rest of his life and never grow tired of you.”

“You’re mine.” Sirius agreed.

“Lay with me?” James asked, almost desperate sounding, “Let me lay on your chest whilst you finish telling me everything you wanted to say before?”

Sirius smiled and nodded his head, “And once I’ve finished that, I’ll ramble on about all the ways and reasons I love James Fleaumont Potter, because I’ve been dying to talk about that one for years.”

James kissed him through a smile, and they did exactly that.

★ ★ ★

OH MY GOD I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. SIRIUS DESERVES BETTER AND NOW JAMES IS GOING TO GIVE HIM EVERYTHING HE DESERVES AND MORE!!! THEYRE SO IN LOVE I CANT 😭😭😭

Someone find me a James to spontaneously be kissed by please and thank you

If you want to read more of my work you can find it all here :)))

Just tagging a few people who expressed interest in this little drabble, all my prongsfoot shippers have got to stick together in these sparse conditions I swear: @vintagetee13 @fiendishfyre @snarky-magpie @groundzero-v @lapassemirroir @siriuslycomplex

#jay writes #prongsfoot #James is so smitten he simply couldn’t resist. sirius’ mouth was doing all this moving and all James could think about was how he wanted #sirius’ mouth to move against his own. he didn’t even think he just… smooch. awh my poor babies. poor poor sirius my baby. no one has ever #loved him the way James does and no one will ever love him the way James will. they’re inevitable. ineffable. inseparable. insanely in love #they’re everything to me #James x sirius #Starbucks #bambibelle #marauders #sirius black #James potter #James and sirius #best friends to lovers #fluff #so much fluff #angst #yeah there’s a chunk of angst too #ficlet #Drabble #one shot

[chasingthestarss]

If I was a good writer I would put this idea in a fanfic:

The beach house was one of James’ favorite locations. The waves that beat into the cliff side. The cool breeze that swept through his hair. It was all so perfect.

He was glad to have Sirius and Regulus there with him. He was at his favorite spot with his favorite people. He was happy.

The two brothers sat together on the sand. Regulus was running his fingers through the sand while Sirius talked about their future plans for the vacation.

James smiled and walked over, sitting next to Regulus. This was the closest to pure happiness James had ever really been, or he thinks so. He has had that thought before though. He will probably have it again. But for now this moment was it.

“Did you know that there are apparently as many stars in the sky as there are grains of sand,” James told Regulus, watching the younger boy scoop the sand up in his hand.

Regulus always seemed to find beauty in the smallest things. James had noticed that Regulus adored nature in a way that most didn’t. Maybe it was the peaceful escape it provided. Maybe it was the beauty. Maybe it was a mystery that James would never solve.

“Yeah, but sand isn’t as special. You can’t hold the stars in your hands,” Regulus shoved a handful of sand towards James.

James stood and wrapped his arms around the two boys with a wide grin.

“Maybe you can’t, but I can,” he said and squeezed them both tightly.

#dead gay wizards #marauders era #regulus black #sirius black #james potter #jegulus #soft James potter #james potter loves regulus black #James potter loves Sirius Black #James potter and Sirius Black are best friends #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus ficlet

[oxydiane]

The first time Harry unwraps a birthday present that doesn’t make him want to cry after uttering a tight lipped ‘thank you’ he is nine.

He is turning nine and not waking up in the cupboard under the stairs. He is turning nine and doesn’t have to watch over Dudley’s bacon on the stove and bite his lip as he watches Aunt Petunia scoop a much more abundant portion of eggs in his cousin’s plate. He is turning nine and the carefully wrapped box in front of him is much bigger than anything he had been allowed to keep in his cupboard.

Sirius Black sits in front of him, a nervous smile on his face.

It seemed to be a default for his godfather, Harry thinks. That’s the same nervous smile he had sported when he showed up at Privet Drive announcing he was taking Harry away.

Harry had hidden behind the door, then, quietly listening to Sirius explain his name had recently been cleared and he was Harry’s rightful guardian. He used a lot of big words, explaining carefully as if he had prepared a speech ahead, as if he had got ready for a fight.

He doesn’t need to fight anyone, the Dursleys are all-too-eager to give him away.

Harry packs all his belongings in record time, there hadn’t been much anyways, and he walks out of Privet Drive, number 4 hand in hand with his godfather.

He walks out of Privet Drive, number 4 for the last time and that had felt like a dream come true already.

‘So? Aren’t you going to open it?’ Sirius asks, pushing the gift towards Harry.

Harry nods. ‘Thank you.’

‘No need to thank me already, you haven’t even opened it,’

Harry blinks, confused. Aunt Petunia didn’t like it when he wouldn’t thank them for each thing he was given, from Dudley’s worn out socks to the broken clothes hanger he had unwrapped on his sixth birthday. But Sirius wasn’t Aunt Petunia.

He scratches the tape on the side of the box, careful not to ruin the wrapping,

A surprised sigh escapes his mouth when he sees what looks like a box of LEGOs. It was a big box too, and he knew LEGOs were expensive. But after a second look he realises that it had nothing to do with the bright red toys Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would buy Dudley, because the pictures on this box moved and bright gold letters spelled out ‘Build Your Own Quidditch Pitch!’

‘I didn’t really know what you’d like,’ Sirius speaks to fill in the silence, he scratches the back of his head with one hand looking rather bashful. ‘I know you probably don’t know much about Quidditch, but your dad loved it, so I thought—‘

‘My dad loved it?’ Harry bites his tongue when he realises he’s interrupted his godfather. He didn’t want him to be annoyed or mad at him but the mention of his dad, and to know what he loved—

‘Yeah, his room used to be full of these gimmicks,’ he says fondly and Harry breathes a sigh of relief, because Sirius wasn’t mad he had interrupted him.

He looks back down at the box, the golden letters and moving figures flying all over the cover. His dad used to love this? He was holding something that his dad used to love.

He doesn’t notice it, the way tears start welling up his eyes, at least not until Sirius stands up looking alarmed.

‘Shi— I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you don’t like this? It’s okay, we can go out and you can choose anything you want as a special birthday treat, okay? We can throw this away—‘

‘No!’ Harry is shocked by how loud his voice is. His arms wrap protectively around the big box on the table and he shakes his head violently. ‘I love it!’

Sirius seems to calm down at once, and Harry feels his hand gently rest against his head and twist his hair.

‘Alright, I’m happy you liked it, sprong,’

‘Loved it!’ Harry insists, eyes still wet.

‘I’m happy you loved it.’

Harry relishes in the soft touch, something he was still trying to get accustomed to.

He was nine years old, and he got a birthday present.

#soo writes #word vomit #harry potter #sirius black #harry james potter #james potter #good godfather sirius black #sirius raises harry #sirius raising harry #sirius gets his name cleared au #because #yh #im so emo for them #ficlet #drabble #marauders #quidditch #and fuck the dursleys

[momo-t-daye]

“Uh, Professor, er, sir,” Harry stumbled over the seldom-used honorifics in his bafflement. “Uh, on your mouth…?”

“Lipstick, Potter,” Snape sneered, the expression all the more pronounced with the cosmetic assistance.

“Oh, uh, it’s, um, it’s black?” Harry hadn’t known lipstick came in anything other than his aunt’s subdued pinks or the vivid shades of red that Petunia considered sinful and salacious (and intolerably reminiscent of Lily to ever be permitted back into the precariously normal life of Number Four, Privet Drive).

“Very good, Potter,” Snape said sarcastically. “Twelve years old and you’ve learned your colors.”

That was pure nastiness and entirely unfair.

“I’m fifteen!”  Harry protested, which earned him a merely sardonic eyebrow. “Almost fifteen,” he amended.  “I’ll be fifteen on Monday.”

Harry longed to surpass Snape in sheer churlishness and considered pointing out that muggle men generally didn’t wear skirts.  Certainly not in Little Whinging.  Definitely not when Dudley and his gang were roaming the streets.

He’d seen plenty of oblivious wizards sporting spiffy new dresses as their muggle disguises at the Quidditch World Cup the previous summer (a lifetime ago, before Cedric was murdered and he hadn’t been able to stop it from happening).  But there was something peculiarly well-tailored and suspiciously well-worn about the Potions Master’s garb that suggested less “disguise” and more “daily wear”. He found that his brain was oddly unwilling to acknowledge the existence of Snape’s psychedelic cardigan. His mind kept trying desperately to wallpaper something sensible over the bizarre image his eyes insisted on perceiving.

“…nice skirt,” he mumbled.

“Thanks,” Snape drawled the false gratitude out with a smirk. “It has pockets.  Dipshit and Dumbass there were too excited to get on the road this morning and didn’t give me any time to do laundry.”

“Am I ‘Dipshit’ or am I ‘Dumbass’?” Sirius whispered loudly, grin gone well past manic.

“I believe Severus called me a ‘dipshit’ among other things for forgetting to take my Wolfsbane last year,” Remus replied thoughtfully, “So, Sirius, that probably makes you the dumbass.”

“I’m more of a hot piece of ass, but okay,” Sirius said with a wink. “Hi, Harry!”

“Hi, Sirius,” Harry said weakly, glad for the excuse to sidle past Snape.  “Uh, what are you doing here?” The Daily Prophet hadn’t said anything about Sirius being pardoned and news like that, while less of an urgent headline than Voldemort’s return, wouldn’t lurk about in the society pages or behind an advice column.

“Dumbledore told me to lie low at Lupin’s place,” Sirius beamed with an innocence so intense it could only be artificial.

“And, er, well, what with one thing and another, it really hadn’t seemed like a good time really to mention that I’d been, ah, evicted,” Lupin added, “…again.”

“Renting really seems like such a bother,” Sirius opined. “So I bought a house for Remus here.”

“Oh,” said Harry, who had witnessed Aunt Petunia compulsively twitching the curtains as she tried to discover how Mrs. Number Seven had eluded neighborly surveillance and, somehow, managed to sell her house to a person or persons unknown to the remaining residents of Privet Drive. “Isn’t that supposed to take a long time?”

“Building a home takes a lifetime,” Sirius said sagely. “Buying a house just takes money.”

Snape’s scornful snort brought Harry’s attention back to the least welcome visitor to Little Whinging.

“So, uh, why did you bring,” Harry gestured vaguely, unsure if the word ‘him’ could accurately encompass the snidest professor present, “Snape?” He’d rather noticed that Snape hadn’t lifted a finger to help Sirius and Lupin move any of the large boxes from the lorry into Number Seven.

“Severus knows how to drive,” Lupin explained gently. Sirius’ mouth opened, prepared to protest.

“Severus,” Lupin repeated, louder this time, “Has a valid muggle license to drive.” Sirius’ subsided.

“And I know how to hot-wire cars and lorries,” Severus added smoothly. “And,” Lupin echoed wearily, “ Severus knows how to ‘hot-wire’ muggle vehicles.”

“I’m learning to do that,” Sirius said helpfully, “I’m going to figure it out too.  I’ve nearly got it.”

“Talk is cheap, Black,” Snape scoffed starting to stroll in the last direction Harry wanted him to go, “I’ll believe you when I see some tangible results.”

“Wait!  Stop!” Harry wondered if he’d get in trouble for tackling a professor outside of Hogwarts.  It would be worth it, to try to alter Snape’s trajectory towards the front door of Number Four.  “Stop, stop, stop!”

For all Harry’s desperate scrambling, Snape maintained his lead.

“Please stop!” Harry begged as the professor hitched up his skirt slightly, “Use the bell!  You don’t have to kick the door in!” Aunt Petunia was probably at the door, surely she’d spied them across the street at Number Seven.

Snape kicked the door, already unlatched in Petunia’s nosy anticipation, open.

Aunt Petunia let out a shrill little scream.

“Hello, Piss-Tuna,” said Severus Snape, far more gleeful than he’d been even when Harry and Ron were facing the threat of expulsion after flying a car into the Whomping Willow. “You look as awful as ever.”

Piss-Tuna, Harry thought as his world tilted on its axis, Snape, Professor Snape, just called my aunt Piss-Tuna.  This can’t be happening.

“You—!” Her face was white, her eyes were wide, and Petunia Dursley, née Evans, practically growled in her outrage.

Harry found himself thinking that Brazil might be a very nice place to live. It was far away from Privet Drive, for a start.  He wondered what it would take to get there.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Tuney?” Snape’s foot had blocked the door from closing.  “I’m more than happy to have this confrontation on your front step if you’d prefer.”

“We, ah, brought some biscuits,” Lupin added. “Store bought. Assorted.  With chocolate.  Er, I’m, ah, we’re the new neighbors. So nice to meet you again.”

Petunia goggled at the lot of them.

She also stumbled back, which Snape seemed to take as an unspoken invitation.  Harry found himself dragged along in the professor’s wake, with only Sirius’ hand on his shoulder to steady him in the swift tide of strangeness.

“I can’t believe your taste in interior decoration deteriorated into this level of disgusting kitsch and doilies, Tuna,” said the man who decorated with floating dead things in jars. Severus surveyed the photos on the wall, on the mantle, on the little side table.  So many perfectly posed pictures of a happy family of three- mother, father, son- and a lock on the cupboard under the stairs. Narcissa had been absolutely right.

“Is that my jumper?” Harry jumped.  Petunia’s voice was high and thin and quite peculiar.

“You’ve really done a terrible job of raising Potter,” said Snape, and Harry bristled. Of course Snape wanted to criticize him, Harry had been expecting the criticism, but he loathed the thought of his two biggest critics were now sharing notes and combining forces.

“Not only is he, like the majority of students, a careless menace in the laboratory, but I have also wasted entirely too much of my already limited time deciphering his atrocious penmanship to correct insipid essay after insipid essay only to see the same flawed reasonings repeated week after week.” It was news to Harry that he was supposed to read the sea of spidery red notes Snape deposited on every essay.  It seemed rather unfair, given that Snape could fit five lines of text for every one line Harry wrote. The single “P”, or the occasional and welcome “A”, was more than sufficient in Harry’s view.

“That’s my jumper.” There was a touch of hysteria in Petunia’s tone now.

“He will be taking his O.W.L.s this year, his O-levels if you prefer,” Snape continued, demonstrating more confidence in Harry’s continued survival than Harry typically expected to hear from the Potions Master. “Unfortunately, his current record of scholastic mediocrity, his stubborn refusal to revise, and a peculiar incuriosity about magical theory does not bode well for his continued academic career.”

“You little bastard! That’s my goddamn jumper!” Petunia’s shriek derailed Snape’s momentum.  The unexpected profanity from his aunt made Harry’s brain stutter to a halt.

“Tuna,” Snape frowned, “We’re not here to discuss my sartorial decisions and I will never take wardrobe critique from you.  I only deigned to enter this suburban hellscape to discuss your horrendous failure to raise and parent Mr. Potter.”

“Biscuit, Harry?” Sirius offered, retrieving the tin from Remus.

“You stole my jumper!” Shockingly, Petunia’s epiphany failed to shatter glass.  Yet.

“Didn’t,” sniffed Snape.

“I thought it was Lily who stole my jumper!”

“She did. I just hid it for her.” 

“I bought that jumper myself!  I’d saved up!”

“Yes, I know.”

“It was for an interview!”

“We wanted to spare you the humiliation of being seen in public wearing such a hideous thing.  You even got that position, even if you didn’t keep it for very long.”

The biscuit was rather good, even without tea, and it was beginning to dawn on Harry that Snape and Aunt Petunia were more inclined to tear into one another than join forces against him. He felt oddly inclined to cheer for Professor Snape, despite the ranting about Harry’s scholastic shortcomings. Perhaps it was because Harry knew so little about his mother that every glimpse was a pearl he treasured.

“I want my jumper!” Did she learn that tone from her little Diddykins or had Dudley inherited that petulant demanding pitch from Petunia?

“And I want you to understand how your failure to nourish any academic inclinations Mr. Potter may have shown before the age of eleven may have rather dire consequences for futures beyond his own, but I fear we can’t all get what we want.” Remus handed Harry another biscuit before he could think to protest.

“Give me back my jumper!”

“Fine!” Snape finally snapped, fingers tearing at the buttons in wrathful haste.  “Fine, here!”

Petunia caught the cardigan with her face and a squeak.

Severus Snape looked like a stranger again, in the ratty, oversized band shirt, hair disheveled from the jumper’s passage.  Harry hadn’t seen the Dark Mark his professor had shoved under Minister Fudge’s nose in the Hospital Wing those few weeks ago, and he found himself oddly glad that the mark was concealed under a peculiar leather bracelet with metal studding.  A wand holster, perhaps.

“Are you prepared to face your shortcomings now, Tuney?” That dangerously silky tone was entirely familiar, and Harry took another biscuit before he was told to go serve detention during summer vacation.

“It smells like Cokeworth,” Petunia’s complaint was bitter, for she dreaded the day her neighbors discovered the lingering taint of the Cokeworth streets sullying their Surrey security.

“Hey,” said Sirius, who had gone oddly still.

“I wasn’t going to take it to Hogwarts, was I?” Snape said.  “It’s acrylic, you know that sort of stuff doesn’t hold up around magic.”

“Hey,” said Sirius.  “Hey.” His face was a rictus of delight, as pleased as Petunia had been put out. “Snape. Isn’t that, isn’t that my shirt you’ve got on?”

“Oh, oh,” snarled Severus.  “Not you too!”

#Severus Snape #Harry Potter #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Petunia Dursley #Moving into Number Seven Privet Drive #Severus 100% wore the stolen sweater for the exact purpose of winding Tuney up #self-indulgent AU #My art #ficlet