28 from Michigan. Hufflepuff. I love music and spend too much invested in fictional relationships instead of investing my own. This blog is all over the place, just like my life...
remus one shot where he can’t stop blushing around the reader because he has a huge crush on her and sirius and james are like dude please ask her out already?? 🙈
cw: the trials and tribulations of a restaurant job, semi-confident reader (or at least she can withstand Sirius' flirting, which I couldn't), James and Sirius' shameless wingmanning
shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
The cafe is crammed. You’ve almost tripped over two kids already whose parents let them run loose, you did let a glass slip from your tray when a customer stuck his leg out into the walkway without looking, and you’ve quickly reached the conclusion that today was definitely the wrong day to break in your new work shoes. You’re on your last straw at only ten in the morning, but your pasted-on smile becomes twice as genuine when you see a table of your favorite regulars.
“Hi,” you say warmly, clicking your pen and readying it above your pad. “How are we doing today?”
You’re greeted with two dazzling grins from one side of the booth and a shyer smile from the other.
“Y/n,” says Sirius, in his suave, flirtatious way (you’ve learned not to take it personally), “you’re looking stunning.”
You know your hair is suffering from the weather outside and there’s orange juice down the front of your apron, but you smile at him anyway. “Thank you, so are you.”
“How’s your morning going?” James asks. These boys are never ones to skip over pleasantries to get to their meal, and while with other tables you might try to hurry them along, you never mind in this case. Today especially, you welcome the break.
“Oh, it’s going,” you try to joke, looking pointedly down at your orange juice stain. “Could be worse.”
He makes a face. “Yikes.”
“It’s fine,” you say breezily. “What can I get you?”
You look to James, because really he’s the only one you ever need to ask. The other two are fairly consistent, but James seems inclined to try something new every time he comes in.
He doesn’t disappoint now, locking eyes with you seriously over the top of his menu. “How is your butterfly lemonade? No—actually, what is your butterfly lemonade?”
“It’s…” You bite your lip, thinking. Sirius snickers, and when you look he seems to be sharing in some joke with Remus’, whose cheeks have gone a tad pink. “I’m not sure, honestly, but it’s sweet. I think you’d like it.”
“That, then.” James slaps down his menu decisively.
“Right.” You write it down. “And then, a caramel latte and a tea?” You look to Sirius and Remus for confirmation.
The former shoots you a grin you take as a yes, while the latter nods and says quietly, “Thank you.”
“No problem.” You soften your smile for Remus. You adore all of these boys, but you have a bit of a tender spot for him. Remus is by far the quietest of his friends, though really just as friendly when he does talk. It’s terribly endearing.
You click your pen again. “Okay, back soon!”
The boys’ table remains a bright spot in your morning for as long as they’re there. Their antics you’re rather used to—the flirting, and the pranks, and the teasing way both James and Sirius poke at Remus while his blush worsens and worsens—but it surprises a laugh out of you when you joke that you’ll have to spit in Remus’ food if he orders the brioche (which infamously holds up the kitchen every time) and Sirius snorts doubt he’d mind before yelping and jumping in his seat. By the time you’re bringing them their ticket, the cafe has reached its late morning lull and your day is remarkably brighter than it started off.
You seem to be interrupting some sort of debate when you approach their table, Remus leaning forward to whisper across the booth before he catches sight of you and sits back. The tops of his cheekbones are tinged pink. Sirius, on the other hand, is grinning wickedly, whereas James looks mostly exasperated.
“Thank you,” James says kindly, taking the ticket from you. Remus starts rifling through his pockets for cash, but Sirius only looks at you as though sizing you up.
“Y/n,” he starts to say, ignoring how Remus’ eyes narrow in his direction, “are you seeing anyone at the moment?”
You feel your eyebrows lift. “Not currently, no.”
“But why not?” He affects a look of puzzled contemplation, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re a pretty girl. Are you not looking to date?”
You shrug, fighting the urge to cross your arms defensively. It’s not that you’ve never gotten these sorts of personal questions from customers before, but you weren’t expecting them from this table; you thought you knew better than to take Sirius’ flirting seriously. “Nothing has come up lately, I guess.”
“Do you fancy men?”
“Sirius,” Remus hisses. “Leave her alone.”
“What?” Sirius spreads his hands, guileless. “None of us would care if you didn’t, lovely—well, some might care, but no one would hold it against you—” He yelps for the second time today, this time shooting a glare at his friend across the booth. “Anyway, you don’t have to say if you aren’t comfortable.”
You’re laughing a bit now, half nervously. “No, that’s okay. I do, yeah.”
“Interesting.” James sets down the ticket. It seems you have his full attention now. “And what do you think of our Remus?”
Remus makes a horrified sputtering sound, and you turn to find him looking at James in betrayal. He’s pink to the tips of his ears.
You can’t help a small smile as you catch on. “I think he seems very sweet.”
“Mm, well spotted.” James nods, tenting his hands like a man at a business meeting.
“Yes, very good taste,” Sirius agrees.
“He’s a dateable bloke, no?” James asks you. He jolts in his seat a little, but doesn’t yelp like Sirius had. Remus appears caught between wanting to hide his face in his hands and wanting to burn his friends to cinders with his gaze. He’ll be lucky, you think amusedly, if he doesn’t burn himself up first. The hue of his blush is only getting deeper.
“He is,” you agree. You look at Remus again. This time, he meets your eyes, his look softening.
“I’m so sorry,” he says miserably.
Your grin spreads. “No, don’t be.”
“So would you like to date him?” James furthers.
Remus does put his head in his hands now, letting out a muffled groan. “James.”
“What? Clearly you aren’t going to do it yourself, and I am sick of trying to eat my breakfast whilst you moon over—” He jumps in his seat again, and goes quiet, reaching down to rub at his leg. You tuck your lips in to hide a smile.
“I’m just going to take this,” you say, reaching for the customer copy of their receipt. You bend over, scrawling your number down on the signature line. “And if anyone has more questions for me later, they can give me a ring. Okay?”
You look at Remus. He looks nauseous and stop-sign red, but he manages to give you a small smile. “Alright,” he says, tentatively.
“Perfect. Bye, boys.” You shoot them a wave as you go to your next table. You hope Remus sees how your smile is really only for him.
When the Wiggles first started touring the US, there was one question they were asked again and again.
“People were coming up and saying, ‘Oh, so you’re friends of Dorothy?’” veteran Wiggle Anthony Field says. “I didn’t even know the other meaning – I went, ‘Yeah, we are!’”
Field (the OG blue Wiggle) thought Americans were referring to Dorothy, the affable green and yellow dinosaur and longtime fixture of the Wiggles’ songs and live shows. They were, of course, really making a sly reference to the queer code slang term for a gay man. But when Field eventually figured this out, it gave him an idea for a song.
On Friday, when Australia’s best-known children’s entertainers release their 63rd album (yes, really), audiences will finally get to hear Friends of Dorothy. It’s a collaboration with Orville Peck, the modern country songwriter known for his face masks, cowboy hats – and being an out-and-proud gay man.
The Wiggles nervously took the idea for Friends of Dorothy to Peck on Zoom. To their delight, Peck, who has a young nephew who loves the band, jumped at the chance.
“Orville was so happy to do it,” Field says. “And he’s a friend of Dorothy’s as well!” (x)
Dolly Parton is also on the album doing a collaboration as well :)
My cats have this meow that means "please come with me to fix this" after which they'll lead me to the problem in question, usually a empty (or 'empty') food bowl or a closed door they want open. They look at the 'problem', they look back at me, clear message.
What fascinates me is how this illustrates what they percieve as being in the realm of my 'power.' I control the food, I control the door, sure, but my cats love to sit on the balcony in the sun, and it has happened plenty of times that on a rainy day they come get me, go to the balcony and show me... the rain. "Please fix this" they say. "Please get rid of the wet"
"Silly kitty," I say, "I can't control the rain." I then walk into the shower and turn on the rain.
I hope this is a universal cat owner experience. Every single night he begs me to turn the sun back on so he can watch birds on the balcony. I tell him no, I cannot do that.
But I can turn lights on and off in the house and he's fairly certain I'm just not applying myself properly here.
BLADE TRINITY (2004)
Jessica Biel
DOUBLE IMPACT (1991)
Corinna “Cory” Everson
SWEET HOME | 스위트홈 (2020)
Lee Si-young | 이시영
TERMINATOR 2: JUDGEMENT DAY (1991)
Linda Hamilton
MY LUCKY STARS | 福星高照 (1985)
Michiko Nishiwaki | 西脇 美智子
ACES: IRON EAGLE III (1992)
Rachel McLish
WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT (1993)
Angela Bassett
Magnolia plants are some of the oldest flowering plants, with their origins dating back to around 95 million years ago. They predate the appearance of bees, which came much later in evolutionary history. As a result, magnolias have evolved to be pollinated by beetles rather than bees. The flowers of magnolias have large, open structures that provide easy access for beetles to collect and transfer pollen.
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