#mlim8

[jaydick-week]

🌻 Flower Zine - Contributor Spotlights! 🌷

Let's hear it for the next round of our next round of contributors!

@kohiandie | @nerd-by-definition | @mlim8 | @/areecy_

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[nerd-by-definition]

If you love flowers and devastatingly beautiful JayDick works (incl this wonderful comic by the lovely @mlim8 & myself) then don’t forget to order your copy now!

Link to the Store https://jaydickzine.bigcartel.com

Jaydick Flower Zine

Based around flowers and their meanings, the Jaydick Flower Zine is as beautiful and unique as Dick and Jason’s relationship.

More Zine Details Here

[allthatsentimentalcandyfloss]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

my contribution to this year’s timkon week— aka another story inspired by my favourite @mlim8 who put the idea in my head over a year ago until i got so obsessed with it that i just had to write it. as always, she also drew the most adorable art for it that you should all go check out! thanks so much to the mods over @timkonweek for organising the event and for giving me a reason to finally post my first ever soulmate au! ♡ — relationship: tim drake/kon-el words: 5,151 rating: teen and up audiences warnings: no archive warnings apply tags: soulmate au, pre-slash, idiots in love, banter, first meetings, kryptonian mythology, enemies to friends (and eventually to lovers) — Happenstance, coincidence— and now evidence. Oh, Tim thinks, swallowing hard as the heartbeat inside his chest starts to outrun the one inside his head— the one that is no longer that of a stranger, that no longer belongs to a ghost but to someone made of flesh and blood and unbridled laughter, of sun-kissed skin and obstinacy and ardour. Superboy’s final words to him start echoing through his mind, again and again and again, “Count on it, Wonder! You haven’t seen the last of me!” Something tells Tim that the other boy might have been right about that.

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Thank you so much to Mel for giving us an amazing interview and some bonus art! Now check out her recs for both fics and art!

Fic Recs by @mlim8

So cheating a bit here, but I’m first gonna list a few of the fics that brought me back to drawing - I ended up drawing fanfic comics for a scene from each of these fics since they were all so darn good.

Solnste by @lumosinlove

I’ve gushed about this fic a lot. The whole thing is a roller coaster of emotions, misunderstandings, revelations and love. Haz’s work is addictive as usual and a joy to read from beginning to end. Chapter 6’s reveal destroyed me so much I needed to draw it.

Now I Wanna be your Dog by @prettyremus

It’s so fun to read the Marauders just being kids and enjoying their time with their friends, seeing them freak out about crushes and worrying about exams and getting jealous, while also being in a Magic setting. One of the first fics that I came across that gave me all of that was this fic. I adored it so much - from them wandering around town, trying to figure out the sleeping arrangements, playing music, stealing glances at one another - there’s just so much going on, I was in love. The second chapter with the Marauders just walking around town, gathering records and watching Sirius just fall more and more in love with Remus with the smallest actions he does? Needed to draw it.

Sweet Nuthin’ by @kattlupin

As I mentioned before, I’m a sucker for childhood friend tropes. I love watching them look at each other as kids and feel something there but not being able to name it. There’s so much childhood innocence, unconditional love and friendship that was so well portrayed in this fic and it was PURE FLUFF AND HAPPINESS. The creativity with the book of music was so much fun and a smart way for them to keep in touch… It was so lovely that I drew that scene lol

These fics caught my eye after I was in the fandom for a few more months and because of how wonderful they were, I knew I wanted to draw something from them some day.

Signs of Affection by @kittycargo

I’ve never read a fic that’s been so visual in my head the way Signs of Affection is. The image of Remus spelling his name out, letter for letter, while Sirius just gets more and more smitten was so beautifully written and it was such a fun journey to go on with Sirius and Remus! It was a fun peek into what learning ASL is like and the plethora of people you meet along the way.

The Crooked Age by @aryastark-valarmorghulis

Oh boy. When it comes to Arya’s fics, I can always count on them transporting me to a world of mystery, longing and humility. You see these boys live their lives, not as main characters of dramatic, heroic stories, but just everyday life. Fully fleshed out people who are getting by, day by day, and yes, fall in love with each other, too. The Crooked Age was just super intriguing and the CONFESSION/REVEAL SCENE?? *chef’s kiss*

Art Recs by @mlim8

Cheating (a lot) again and going to list 6 pieces of art and 5 comics - there’s just a lot of talented artists in the fandom with such different styles that I really love and am in awe of for their ideas and creativity ;w; This is barely scraping the surface of the bottomless pit that is the fandom’s artistic talent!!

Pieces:

In the Park by @yumenouveau

This is one of the first art pieces I came across on tumblr when I fell back into the fandom and I was completely in love. The beautiful watercolour style, their expressions, the tender touches. ALSO YUME’S JUST REALLY FRIGGING TALENTED WHEN IT COMES TO DRAWING HANDS, IT’S AMAZING.

Goodnight by @kitminti

It’s so sweet, gentle and dreamlike. It’s that innocence from their youths and vulnerability from being half asleep all tied up together with the fluffy pillow clouds. I’m in love.

the 1 by @whipbogard

Whippy’s art always kills me - this one, with the inspiration being SUCH A SAD TAYLOR SWIFT SONG, WHIPPY, WHAT THE HELL, is no exception. What a loving and happy time before the War.

But they have each other, and this is enough. by @rrremusly

I always love when the stars and moon come into effect with Wolfstar art. There’s something just so aesthetic about two characters facing each other in this way, AND WITH THEIR ANIMAL FORMS OVER THEIR FACES?? The visual is so powerful.

The stars and the moon by @thematicallycoherent

A sucker for the stars and moon, I told you. And mix in the colours??? The clouds, their faces, the night skies, it’s all a perfect combination for the two of them.

Kisses by @xxxcasey

This is so passionate and beautiful. Casey’s work always has strong lines and beautiful use of lighting - I’m amazing at the myriad of perfect poses you have these two in and how loving each post is.

Comics:

Love like you by @lyuvanoo

Vano’s art is so soft and beautiful. Their way of drawing Remus actually was what inspired me to go forth and draw fluffier hair on my Remus lmao - This song is beautiful and a perfect one for the two of them, I love how much effort and love went into this comic. The end with the fireflies? Kill me now.

After that night by @alessiajontrunfio

Alessia’s work needs no introduction. Her comics are so vibrant and full of character and emotion. The colour, the close-ups, the angles and layout of each comic are detailed to perfection and inspirational.

Marauders: Family by @ana-godis

The amount of detail that goes into each of Ana’s comic pages is insane. There’s so much background detail and it’s all coloured with shading, I’m always so impressed. Also I always love seeing how expressive characters’ faces are!

I got you, Moony by @lunorichi

I adore Luno’s art so much. Each character is so bright and beautiful with the most hopeful eyes and expressions. Luno’s use of light and colour always make me smile but also she’s really good at drawing crying faces lmao

Wingman Cat by @flaggermousseart

Flaggermousse’s comics are always going to take you on a journey. Sometimes, it’s a cute, happy comic like the one I linked above. Sometimes, it’s following canon and going to be heart-breaking and rip you apart with emotion and pain and loss. Also, having the characters’ blush being the only colour in entire pages sometimes is so cute, I love it :) I love blush!

Favourite Art by @mlim8

Sleeping Moony (+ficlet by @weird-fangirling-persona)

This one is just really pretty. I wanted to draw Remus sleeping, I wanted to draw fluffy hair and just some rough shading. Then, it just seemed right to have him open his eye and peek through his bangs and so… this was born. :3c Misa asked for a Sirius’ reaction followup in exchange for a ficlet and it was very worth it :D

The Wolf and Dog wander the streets (TW: blood and gun)

This artwork was just a LOT of fun. It’s so different from my usual chibi, happy style and I really wanted to portray this dark, sexy side that I think Wolfstar can exude. I followed a tutorial for how to draw blood and was really happy with the results! I also like suits and enjoy drawing male fashion with Remus as my guinea pig so -

Marauders Fanzine SFW Submission

I really love how this one came out!! It’s so bright and happy and I really hope I could convey how in love they are with one another and with who they themselves are. The flag around them was the most fun to colour :) It’s a symbol of comfort and pride for them and it’s all I could ever want for these two boys. Also, the fanzine was for a great cause, I’m happy to have been able to contribute to it!

Hugs for your Favourites

This one is an old one, but a goodie…!! I love seeing the Marauders doing ridiculous things together. THIS IS WHAT I WANT WHEN THEY SAY ‘BOYS WILL BE BOYS’ - clinging to each other like sloths while working their core muscles to ridiculous levels and tackling each other to the carpet just to laugh.

Dino!Wolfstar

Dino!Wolfstar is just… really, really fun. It’s bright and colourful and just stupidly adorable. :) I love how funny it is and even if not the BEST thing I’ve ever drawn, anatomically, it sure was fun to draw in the first place uwu

If you want even more interviews and recs, make sure to check out everyone featured in the Beyond the Shelves series and thank you for supporting all of these creators. ❤️

[goodboylupin]

In honour of @mlim8, who continually blesses the fandom with beautiful works of art, we all should return the favour on her birthday 🎂🎁🥳 by providing her with our own works of art (considerably less beautiful)

I'll start.

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt #37 for you, dear: Things you said with the tv on mute 😌📺🤫

Notes: Okay angel, you have an official IOU from me for a one shot that’s total fluff!!! I love you!!!! Thank you to the gorgeous bitch that is Bethany for making this better than it ever could’ve been <3 <3 

A Reblog is worth a thousand Stars

.-

Things you said with the TV was muted  |  Send Me A Prompt

.-

Sirius’s never been much for silence. He was brought up in the heart of London in a household always filled to the brim with guests that his parents deemed worthy enough to intermingle with the ever so illustrious Black name, and then in Hogwarts there was always the chatter of other students or the mysterious sounds ringing from the forbidden forest. Sirius’s always needed that extra layer, that muffled background noise to help ground himself, to help not get lost in his own thoughts of inadequacy or regrets over his vast array of stupid decisions that he’d make in a thoughtless spur of passion. 

If he’s really forced to think about it, the only time Sirius’s ever been comfortable blanketed in quiet was during the few times he spent his school hols in the Welsh countryside. But Sirius tries not to, think about that he means. Because then he’s back in bed, curved against Remus, one of his arms stuck underneath him while the other traced elaborate designs against his sun dappled skin. And it’s hard to reminisce on those sorts of memories, the ones that remind him about burnt toast mornings in their Camden flat and the taste of blackberries on Remus’s lips and the way they had always found solace in folding into one another after a long day out on patrols or raids of a Death Eater hideout. Well, found solace until they had suddenly, abruptly not. Before Remus had begun spending his full moons away, out on covert missions given by Dumbledore and never repeated about to Sirius. Before a thick, uncomfortable tension had clogged between them on the breakfast table that they used to stretch across to interlace their hands with one another’s. Before secrets infested every nook and crevice of their relationship, burrowing through it like deadly, invasive pests— rotting away at the one thing Sirius held with reverence and an aching sort of love that he’s only ever felt towards Remus. 

The night Remus left was only surprising in how long it took their bending to turn to a break that couldn’t stitch back up with heady kisses, and ardent declarations and tender caresses that always were that bit lighter for how afraid they’ve always been to hurt the other. It was early June and it was like every ounce of Sirius was being rinsed of resolve, like the moonlight itself  was bleeding out with the desperation and yearning and pain painted so evidently on each of their faces and what measured their movements when in relation with the other. It was in the midst of an argument, because of course it was— because that had become their only form of communication in those final fleeting weeks in-between the fucking and the cautious glances volleyed around like they were back in sixth year and first beginning to tend this tentative, little flame between them, a flame that became a supernova that swallowed Sirius whole without his permission. Remus had made a crack about Sirius needing to get him a leash if he was so convinced that he wasn’t being forthcoming about his whereabouts, and Sirius had snapped back saying that at this point he wished Remus was actually just sneaking around to shag Dearborn, and then Remus had just slumped over, lying against the wall as if it was the only thing keeping him up anymore.

He had circles as dark as the velvet night sky beneath his bright eyes, and he had such a rigid sort of posture once finally standing back up that it makes Sirius wince even remembering it, and just looking at him in such a state felt like the deepest betrayal. All Sirius knew, all he’s ever known and all he will know for the rest of his days is that he never wants to be the one to make Remus look that defeated or exhausted or just plain sad ever again. Remus had packed his few belongings in the old luggage he’s had since first year in a matter of minutes, and marched out the door without ever looking back, and Sirius hadn’t seen him until after the dust had finally settled in the wake of the end of the war. Remus is the one thing Sirius has always known he never deserved, and now— six weeks removed from the defeat of Voldemort by the hands of a still recuperating Dumbledore, Sirius knows that truth is as inherent as ever.

It was Lily who stayed up with Sirius on nights he couldn’t go back to bed in fear of being met with Remus in his dreams— her missing him in a different but just as painful way. It was Lily who told Sirius about the borderline sadistic recruitment efforts Dumbledore had Remus operating— making him relive his worst nightmare every full moon with the man who had turned him when he was no more than four years old. And it was Lily who called him and James a pair of “bloody prats,” because she had never doubted Remus for even a moment. So it only made sense when it was Lily who tipped her chin in that imperious way of hers two weeks before, and proclaimed that they’d be having a Christmas together as a family. Which meant that Sirius has just spent the last three— Merlin forsaken—  days awkwardly avoiding Remus in the most stilted and uncomfortable manners every time they ran into one another in the Potter cottage, and it meant that Frank, Alice and Neville took one of the guest rooms, while Sirius readily offered the only other one to Remus, and now he’s slumped downstairs, staring at the strange Muggle box that Lily had bought and what James, Sirius, and— and well the rat, had spent an entire afternoon toying around with— pure blooded to the core. Lily and Remus had only left them to it while going off for tea and scones at the cafe down the way, laughing at them all the while.

God does Sirius wish that golden splendor had never faded.

At the moment, the Muggle box is playing a barrage of clips of an incredibly pretty lady, one with dark hair and violet eyes. She looks like she could be a Black, honestly— it’s disarming. He’s sure he’s seen her before.  Sirius furrows his brows that bit more, surprised just how familiar she actually looks, and is shaken when he hears a soft, rasp of a voice— the most resplendent voice he’s ever heard— speaking from behind him. “Liz Taylor.”

Sirius turns around, frantic, as he takes in the sight of him, up close after so long, and Sirius stares, wide eyed and greedy, like he always is when around Remus. “Pardon?”

“The woman on the telly, that’s Liz Taylor. My mum was positively obsessed with her.” Remus’s arms are crossed leisurely against his chest as he lies against the doorway, clad in a white T-shirt and a pair of fading, plaid pajama bottoms. His bottom lip is worn dry and his hair is disheveled and sticking out on impossible angles, and he’s the most gorgeous thing Sirius has ever seen. Even now, even after so many months apart and even while he’s obviously lost in thought about his miraculous mother who had passed away from a Muggle disease their seventh year, taking a part of Remus’s heart right along with her. Even amidst all of it, Remus Lupin is the most startlingly beautiful thing Sirius has ever witnessed.

Sirius can’t stop his gawking, it’s like a warped image of that night over five months ago now, and it fills Sirius with a sort of dread he’s become far too accustomed with feeling when around Remus. “Oh, right,” Sirius says, more because he feels like it was his turn to say something, even if it is stuttering and dumb.

“You remember Christmas break of seventh year? When she made us watch her favorite film? That starred Liz Taylor.”

Sirius’s throat feels dry, can’t believe that Remus is speaking with him at all, wonders how he’ll actually be able to string two words together in any sort of coherency. “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah. The one about the bloke who wanted to marry her but got that other bird pregnant.”

Remus’s answering grin is small and mild and a bit threadbare, but it’s a Moony smile, so Sirius will devour the vision of it with hungry piety.

“I think the critics might have an issue with your distilling one of the greatest critiques of American capitalism into a tawdry love affair, but that’s the one,” Remus says as he picks up the clicker and mutes the box, perched on the other end of the couch’s armrest. And it’s so far removed, but the closest Remus has been able to stand being around Sirius in too long and it pumps him with a sort of staggering, hesitant hope that he has no right in indulging himself with— to feel the levitating, helium like sense of it pulsing in his chest and coursing through his veins.

“You know me Moons, just wanna get to the dirty bits.” He tries for broke and casts him a half smile, feels it like a punch in the gut when that doesn’t affect the detached way Remus stares at him from his perch. “But the bloke was fit at least— I recall saying that he looked a bit like you.” That, for some mad reason, makes Remus toss back his tawny head— silver in the moonlight— and laugh hysterically. “I’ve finally done it, made you go barmy.” Sirius marvels, goading but also partially meaning it.

“Of course you’d think Monty Cliff looks like me Sirius, he’s only the most tragic git in cinema history.”

“Since when are you the dramatic one Moons?”

Remus stills for a second— probably over the use of the familiar pet name, but he doesn’t say anything of it, just gives him a one armed, what can you do shrug. “’S true, he got in a nasty accident with Liz in the car when they were out drinking one night.”

“Oh— That’s rotten luck.” Sirius says, still feels a bit delirious with the fact that Remus is even speaking to him at all.

“Quite.”

“Did he die?”

“No, not fully. They were able to stitch back up his face, but he never actually recovered, was haunted by it really. I guess folks used to say that there was the beautiful before, and then the monstrous after, scars and all. So he spent the next decade drinking himself to death.”

Sirius’s insides go cold, flashes of Remus’s own habits bubbling to the forefront of his mind, but he sweeps it away and only nods, thinks he understands the shifty way Remus is behaving now, considering the obvious parallel to his own accident as a lad and how the Wizarding world has regarded him ever since.

“That’s shit Remus.”

He hums, noncommittal as he studies a point over Sirius’s shoulder. “They still call it Hollywood’s longest suicide.”

Sirius suddenly feels sick to his stomach, knows that if this was even just half a year ago, he’d be gathering Remus in his arms now and kissing away the lines melting into his face, and telling him in a gargled repetition that he loves him and he loves him and he’s always loved him. He’d tell Remus how damn beautiful he is and how bright and brilliant and remarkable of a person he is. And Sirius would fall asleep with Remus’s head resting on his chest and the blanket pooling around their hips and it would feel splendid just for that slice of eternity.

But this isn’t half a year ago. This is now, and now is composed of them broken up and awkward and left them unable to even hold each others gazes for longer than a few seconds at a time, lest the hurt becomes unbearable.

“He sounds like someone I’d get a pint with If I’m being honest.” 

That miraculously seems like the right thing to have said because Remus smiles softly as he stands up. “Sure you two would’ve had a marvelous time, his boyfriends called’m a miraculous lay.”

Sirius laughs, loud and abrupt and a bit like a bark. “Come off it.”

“Poor Liz, she was mad over the shirt lifter.” Remus pulls a face and sticks his tongue out, cheeky in a way Sirius has missed beyond words. “But never mind the history lesson, I just came down for a glass of water, don’t let me disturb your telly watching.”

“You didn’t!” Sirius says hurriedly, forcing himself not to actually leap up and corner him. “I mean—“ he coughs, tries evening out his heartbeat.  “You’re never a bother Remus, you know that. You know I’d rather talk to you than just about anything else,” the silent, save for fucking you, doesn’t have to be said, but Sirius reckons Remus caught the implication if the slight flush to his ears is anything to go by.

“Right, well I should still get back to bed. Tomorrow’s actual Christmas Eve and Lily’s practically branded the damn schedule onto my hand.” Remus turns to the kitchen, and it’s all too much like before, but Sirius won’t let him— can’t let him— go off and leave him behind. If there is one inarguable truth in Sirius’s life, it’s that he loves Remus John Lupin more than all the stars in all the damned galaxies combined, and losing faith in that has only ever caused him the worst sort of pain. So he doesn’t let him go, flings himself forwards and encircles one of Remus’s bony wrists with a loose hand, can practically hear his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Wh— Sirius—“

“Are we ever going to be alright again,” Sirius asks outright, probably the stupidest thing he’s ever done but he doesn’t care, is sick of feeling so damn lost and wrong footed and lonesome without him. 

Remus slowly pivots back around, lips set in a firm frown and brows beginning to knit. “What do you mean.”

“Don’t Remus, please, just don’t. If it’s no then please just put me out my misery. I can’t do this sodding in-between shite, this purgatory of nothing and everything. I just can’t.”

The silence that drapes over them seizes with a tension Sirius hadn’t felt since the night Remus had left, and it probably doesn’t bode well, but Sirius doesn’t care, wants an  answer damn it.

Remus only stares at him, measured and noncommittal and with an almost aloofness that Sirius had successfully penetrated by the end of their first term in Hogwarts. It’s really something awful being on the other side once more.  “You thought I was the spy.” He says in a deadpan, void of any warmth, and cleared of even the Welsh lilt to his words that always shone through when he was relaxed, and wasn’t afraid of being cast off as just some country boy.  He sounds methodical, by rote. He sounds like he doesn’t dare allow any emotions to bleed through because he’s afraid what Sirius would do with them, and that realization, above anything else, is what punches him right in the gut.

“I thought everyone was the spy,” he tells him, isn’t above from graveling at this point. “Hell I thought I was the bloody spy for a moment there! Under the imperius curse, or was obliviated or—“

“That’s different Sirius,” Remus interrupts, seething, and tearing his wrist away from Sirius’s light grasp. “Think about why you would presume me to be working for the dark side over Peter!”

Sirius flushes, is getting angry now, hating that Remus wouldn’t even hear him out. “Because you were in the top of the class, and that fucking rat barely knew how to transfigure  a throw pillow to a damn porcupine!”

Remus’s face— a face Sirius knows better than the back of his own hand— twists up in derision, lips curled and nose wrinkled and pinning Sirius with a one eyed squint. It’s completely inappropriate timing, but Sirius wishes he could show Remus just how thoroughly he pays reverence to him and that face. “Well lucky him he was born a pure blood.”

And that, that snide remark is what makes Sirius jolt back, as if he’s been slapped open handed right across the face. Like the one and only time his mother had done so when she caught him and Regulus dressing up in her heels and jewels and lipsticks when he was seven years old. This, this insinuation by Remus is just as striking and probably ten times as painful. “Don’t. Don’t bring blood politics into this Remus. You know I don’t give a buggering fuck about any of that trite.”

“Then what?” Remus almost yells now, face reddening and stepping close enough to Sirius that he has to tilt his head back just so, just enough so that they’re eyes are boring into one another properly once more. “Was it the fact I’m a fucking werewolf? Huh?” He grabs for Sirius’s front, hands knotted in the material of his shirt, and careful not to touch him. It’s a familiar action when Sirius thinks back to the final couple months of their relationship, Remus had always just grabbed onto Sirius’s clothes— wrinkling his jackets and Henleys whenever they kissed goodbye. Sirius had ultimately thought it was because of the guilt eating up inside for his turncoating ways, but now recognizes it for what it was and what it is. He sees that it’s Remus trying to grapple for something, anything. It’s Remus trying to ground himself by touch, and by Sirius, to feel still amidst all the chaos. 

Sirius puts his larger hands against Remus’s wrists once more, doesn’t let him drop his gaze. “Fuck you Remus.”

“Is that it? You got sick of fucking a halfbreed? Figured that if I was just like the lot who actually were enthralled by Grayback that it’d be fine if you could end it.”

“Shut the fuck up!“

“Just say it! Say you didn’t trust me because I’m a werewolf and you believe that propaganda that we’re some sorta inherently dark creatures. Tell me you gave up on me because of that. Just give me an answer Sirius!”

And it’s like Sirius can’t breathe, doesn’t know where to begin his rant. Whether he should shout at Remus for being a self loathing prat, or shout at Remus for thinking so low of him, or maybe shout at Remus for trying to pretend as if he wasn’t the one who gave up on them first. In the end, he does none of that. 

It’s pure instinct when Sirius plunges forwards and crashes his lips against Remus’s own, trying to infuse the love and adoration and acceptance he knows Remus has never allowed himself to truly feel, and is relieved when his lead-like insides lighten just a fraction when Remus opens his mouth and grabs for Sirius’s face, and kisses him that much deeper. His tongue plunging into Sirius’s open mouth and the familiar slide is so achingly welcome Sirius swears he could fall over in gratitude, frantically palms up and down Remus’s lightly muscled back for purchase, and ultimately just gives up and drags him to the sofa, doesn’t let their lips separate for more than a breath at a time.

“I love you, I never stopped loving you Moons,” Sirius tells him as he practically rips Remus’s shirt as he pulls it off and Remus collapses over him, now straddling Sirius’s lap and kissing a path across his jaw. “Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Remus pulls away, only for a moment, but it’s enough to see the watery gleam to his eyes and the doubt that passes across his face. Though Remus doesn’t let him look for too long, plunges back forwards to kiss him in a cacophony of lips, and teeth, and spit. His cold hands glide against Sirius’s abs beneath his own t-shirt, and Sirius is practically arching up with wanton intent. God he’s missed this, missed Remus and the way they fall against one another, and missed the way they’ve always just fit so innately.

“I—I still love you too Pads,” he says against Sirius’s neck, practically shaking but it’s enough to clear Sirius of all his worries and all his doubt. If there’s anything that couldn’t erode, its the foundation they built with one another and that’s enough, maybe that’s all they need to begin healing once more. Sirius knows that there’s countless conversations and apologies and that they’ll need to take this one step at a time, but here, now. This gives him hope that Remus is just as willing to work on it as he is, and that’s all Sirius needs to know.

He slides a hand up Remus’s thigh and dips a thumb into his waistband, asking for permission, and almost laughing at how eager Remus is to the question, eyes fluttering shut prettily as Sirius slips a hand into his front, cheeks blazing when he realizes Remus wasn’t even wearing any pants. 

“Moony,” he moans, tossing his dark head against the sofa and praying for strength from fucking Merlin himself. 

Remus actually does laugh, kisses the juncture of Sirius’s neck and shoulder before he starts rocking back and forth, against Sirius’s rapidly hardening cock, and Sirius is already so pent up and hungry for this that he knows he’s not going to last long.

“Bloody slag.”

“Pot calling the kettle black—“ Remus’s eyes go blown suddenly, absolutely going mental at the pun and Sirius can’t believe the love of his life is such a damn wanker. 

“Oy, I’ll show you what this kettle can do,” Sirius snaps, playful as he flips their positions so that Remus is lying beneath him, canting forwards when Sirius unceremoniously grabs his cock and begins a slow, and steady stroke, absolutely fucking beaming at the small, cut off gasps and muffled whimpers Remus lets out. They should probably worry over someone walking downstairs for a midnight snack or smoke or something, but Sirius can’t be fucked to care, not with the gloriously golden sight of Remus Lupin flat out beneath him and panting and how Sirius knows precisely how to get him to whimper out in that particularly stunning way.

“Sadistic— Hah— Sadistic bastard,” Remus groans as Sirius begins to thumb at the tip and uses the pre-come to slide faster up and down his shaft, his own hips rocking faster against Remus’s leg to catch at the sensation.

“No arguments here,” Sirius whispers, dipping back down to kiss him as he speeds up the stroking, and gets some of his own friction as he rubs against Remus’s thigh in quick and graceless thrusts and it’s only a moment more before Remus is groaning out with his orgasm and another few thrusts of Sirius’s own hips  after that when Sirius joins him, practically collapsing over his body once he does.

“Oof, get off me you prick.”

“Too tired Moons.”

“You’re heavy.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

Remus laughs and Sirius wishes he could be wrapped up in the sound for the next eon to come. For now, he only licks off the come still sticking to his hand, and Remus wrinkles his nose in acute disapproval, but then he kisses him deep and thorough. So Sirius doesn’t take it to heart. 

Eventually they adjust themselves so that they’re each lying on their sides and peering at one another, gentle but with more stability than they’ve felt for nearly a year now. It feels like they’ve come to some sorta equilibrium about where they go from here, and it’s so bloody miraculous. It’s like their lives have finally been unpaused from the war and they have a thousand, glimmering memories waiting to be had. A future painted with a house of their own, and visiting James and Lily and the Sprog every night for supper, and maybe even having one of their own. A future Sirius lost hope in while they were apart but is now suddenly and painfully the brightest spot in Sirius’s world. 

[stevieraebarnes]

👁👁 I'm always a sucker for Gala Fics... Sneak Peek please?

I AM ALSO A SUCKER FOR GALA FICS!

Basically I was listening to "Ballroom Blitz" one day and decided it was very batfam xD

Have a peek!

"You are ready, young master."

"I'm twenty-two, Alf. Isn't there etiquette governing when you start calling boys whom grow up 'sir'?"

Alfred collects the brush off the nightstand and looks Jason in the eyes. "You will always be my young master." He gives a nod then and excuses himself from the room, leaving Jason alone to stare in the mirror at the fresh pressed tux of the finest cloth he dons.

Jason Todd is dressed from battle.

Also, I feel it's important to note that the summary for this fic is absolutely "Dick Grayson could kill you with a wink of an eye."

Thanks for the ask 🥰🥰🥰

[aryastark-valarmorghulis]

What I remember from your writing is that I will be going into it with bated breath and may come out a little hurt but completely satisfied 🥺😤 Your work is beautiful and you write in a way that you can't help but fall in love with - poetic, heart-breaking, powerful, dynamic. Your fics are more than just characters being in love or how they react to situations they're put in: they're just trying to LIVE and sometimes that's the hardest thing to write. 😤❤

MEL ❤ you are making me blush - you’re so sweet, I’m not sure I deserve all this kindness but I’ll gladly accept it ❤   And OMG this thing you wrote, “they're just trying to LIVE and sometimes that's the hardest thing to write”?! You get me. It is the hardest thing, to write and to do. Thank you again. I will reread this message when I’m feeling down.