#rabid pete makes me giggle

[thehelltingvilleclub]

you should draw pete on leash

.... Okay I might've cooked

[tortoisebore]

now that hey sharpshooter is complete...do you have any snippets or bits of the fic that didn't make it in that you would be willing to share?!

i have sooo many little deleted scenes in various phases of completion/coherence!! i’ll share them as i find them in the old drafts under this “deleted scenes” tag 💕

this one was set like a week after the end of chapter 7, when they’re all hanging out as a group for the first time since remus & sirius got together. she’s not polished or perfect by any means & i don’t really feel like editing/fixing these little deleted bits, but i hope u enjoy 🫶

Of all the places they could have gathered for weekly drinks, Sirius thought that his and James’ apartment was potentially the worst option on earth.

Remnants of the Halloween party two weekends ago were still strewn about the place—wayward confetti and candy wrappers and abandoned plastic cups sat scattered around the house, and their liquor supply hadn’t been even close to replenished yet, but alas, here they were. He and James had tried their best to create some semblance of order in the two hours they’d been given to prepare for guests, but they truly would have been dead in the water if not for Remus and Peter offering to arrive early to help move furniture back into place.

Luckily, Sirius had been so thrown for a loop with all the last-minute supercleaning that he hadn’t had time to freak out about the fact that it was both Remus’ first time over and their first group outing (or inning, he supposed) since becoming an item, which he definitely would have been doing if he’d been granted even a few minutes of silence to sit and think about it. It didn’t hit him until he opened the door after a soft, rhythmic knock and found Remus on his doorstep, donned in a particularly cozy-looking dark green sweater and that orangey brown corduroy jacket he was beginning to love, smiling brightly and tacking on a precious little “hi” that nearly made Sirius honest to god giggle.

He wasn’t allowed much time to swoon (or freak out, or maybe a rabid combination of both) before James whisked them both off to the living room and set them to work in separate corners—Remus helping unstack their armchairs from a leaning tower by the hall and Sirius fishing wayward candy wrappers from behind the TV with Pete.

Before long, it turned more into Peter worming around on the floor for trash and Sirius leaning against the wall idly, holding a bag out haphazardly and gawking across the room. Really, he shouldn’t have been expected to be productive when Remus looked like that—all soft and cozy and particularly cute with a bit of a flush on his cheeks as he and James dragged the living room furniture back into place.

“Wow, thanks so much for your help, Sirius,” Peter droned after a while, emerging from the ground with a handful of what looked like tinsel and confetti. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sirius hummed absently and held out the trash bag. “Oh, yeah—you’re welcome, Petey, of course.”

Peter rolled his eyes and seemed on the verge of a biting comeback when James clapped across the room and interrupted.

“Well gentlemen, I think we’ve done it,” he exclaimed, grabbing at Remus’ shoulder and jostling it good-naturedly. “First round’s on me for your efforts.”

“Every round is on you, Jamie,” Sirius pointed out. “And me, if we’re being technical.”

James waved him off. “The sentiment stands. Pete—before I forget, you left all your chef shit here on Halloween.”

“Oh! I need that for class next week!” Peter gasped, and then they were scurrying off down the hall.

Once they were alone, Sirius met Remus’ eyes across the room. It was quiet for a warm, charged moment. This part still felt a bit terrifying—knowing that Remus could read him like a book, that every ounce of the bright, giddy fondness in his chest was all over his face and that he didn’t need to hide it anymore. Learning to be comfortable beneath Remus’ gaze was one thing, but learning to be comfortable being so seen, so deeply, thoroughly found out, was taking longer than he’d hoped.

The tension broke when Remus bit back a sweet little smile, nodded vaguely in the direction of the couch, and, as usual, Sirius was putty in his hands.

His stomach flipped as he pushed off the wall, gave an expectant little raise of his brows and twirled a finger in the air. “So? What do you think?” he asked, gravitating slowly in Remus’ direction as he perched on the arm of the sofa.

Remus crossed his arms and took a wide look around the room. “It’s alright,” he shrugged, but the smile pulling at his lips was soft, and something soft beneath Sirius’ ribs tugged.

He closed the distance between them, stood in the space between Remus’ legs and traced a finger up the collar of his sweater, giving into that ever-present desire to be closer, closer, closer. Remus’ fingers found his hips and pulled him in, a wayward hand wandering up to tug at his chin and pull him down for a kiss, then two, then three.

Sirius hummed appreciatively, pulling back just enough to speak. “I have a sneaking suspicion that this sort of behavior is going to get us clowned by our friends all night,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Why’s that?”

Sirius tilted his head to the side in thought. “Because they’re horrible, evil monsters?”

“Sure,” Remus gave him, then narrowed his eyes. “Or maybe because we deserve to be bullied for making them put up with us for the last few months?”

Sirius bit back a smile. “Maybe.”

A sweet sort of silence settled in between them, broken only by the sound of James and Peter going back and forth in the other room. Sirius let himself settle in, threw an arm around Remus’ shoulders and let the other wind around one of the curls behind his ear, delighting in the barely-there flush of his cheeks and the subtle darkening of his eyes in the dingy light of the living room. This was all still so very new, so exhilarating to be able to touch him like this, to be close enough to catch every minute expression that flickered across his face, to feel his heartbeat kick and skip beneath his hands.

“Hi,” he offered after a moment.

“Hi,” Remus returned easily. “You look nice, by the way.”

Sirius snorted a laugh. “I’m wearing a giant t-shirt.”

Remus’ shoulder jumped up as he gave him a good, solid once-over. “Yeah. And you look nice.”

Sirius tugged lightly at his earlobe in retaliation. “Speaking of—where on earth have you been hiding this absolute gem of a sweater?”

He glanced down confusedly. “My closet?”

“Oh, I’m afraid I’m going to need full and unrestricted access to that room,” Sirius sighed gravely. He let his thumb trail down the soft, thick collar of the sweater, brushed it lightly against the delightfully warm skin of Remus’ neck as he swallowed.

“And by full, unrestricted access, do you mean permission to take whatever you want?” he asked after a moment, fingers twitching against Sirius’ hip absently.

Sirius tutted. “No, of course not. I’m thinking of you, see—it’s in your best interest to pull things like this out more frequently.”

“How so?”

“Because,” Sirius whispered conspiratorially, “I’m going to have a very, very difficult time keeping my hands off of you in this color. Really, Remus—it’s a crime that I haven’t seen this before now.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he smiled, shook his head exasperatedly and pulled Sirius in by the chin again, kissed him once, twice, and lingered close.

Sirius took a moment to commit him to memory—the green sweater, the flicker of his pulse against his palm, the pink flush highlighting the faded freckles dusted across his cheekbones and the way the light hit his eyes, danced across the rings of amber in the middle and made them glow.

“When do you leave tomorrow?” he asked eventually. It took Remus a hot second to absorb the question, eyes flicking back up from where they’d been parked somewhere near Sirius’ mouth.

“The bus leaves for Connecticut at ten,” he answered distractedly. Sirius felt sneaky, wayward fingers tripping up his back beneath his oversized, worn t-shirt, tracing figure eights to the dip of his spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Sirius hummed. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Remus’ lips pulled up in a smile, and he’d just begun nodding eagerly when a gasp from the hall broke them out of the moment.

“Aww,” James cooed exaggeratedly as he crossed the room to the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to wipe away a plethora of fake tears. “Look how sweet you two are!”

Sirius threw him the finger and rolled his eyes, fixing Remus with a pointed “told you,” and extracting himself reluctantly from his arms. There’d be plenty of time for that later, he thought—precious, uninterrupted time to do as much staring and giggling and whispering as they wanted.

It became very immediately apparent that whatever level of teasing Sirius had been expecting was a gross underestimate.

“One time, at the library—” Dorcas gushed over her empty cup soon after arriving, reaching out to grasp Lily’s shoulder from an armchair next to the couch and just barely avoiding tipping over the bottle of cheap wine Pete had left on the end table. “We all met up to work on that essay, remember? And I mentioned Sirius’ name once—” she held up a finger exaggeratedly, “one singular time, and Remus nearly bolted from the building. Like, fully, truly went mute and tried to sprint out of the room because I said his name once.”

“No,” Remus huffed from his spot next to Sirius on the couch, crossing his arms indignantly and attempting to hide what Sirius considered a frankly adorable blush. “That is absolutely not what happened. You lured me there under the guise of needing help on your papers and then you both ganged up on me. It was an ambush.”

“Oh, he was so nervous,” Lily laughed like he hadn’t spoken at all. “Poor little guy. I almost felt bad.”

“Wait, I’ve got one! What about that night at the bar in Brighton a few weeks ago?” Marlene chimed. She pointed an accusing finger at Sirius across the coffee table. “You stared at him like a maniac and then threw a hissy fit when I tried to talk to you about it!”

“It was not a hissy fit—”

“‘Oh Marls, I think I really like him,’” she mocked in a high voice, bringing her hands to her cheeks in an exaggerated pout. “‘He’s so cute, he’s so nice, he’s everything!’”

“I did not say any of that—”

“You really did do a lot of staring,” James added. He’d been tipsy for quite some time, and somewhere beneath the slight fog in his own head, Sirius had the good sense to be a bit scared of what he might say.

“Jamie,” he warned.

“No, no—you really did!” James continued obliviously. Sirius clenched his fingers around his empty glass, ready to pounce should he try anything too humiliating. “You were so weird at the beginning, I thought you wanted to fucking kill the guy and then bam—it hit me…” He held up his hands, looking up at the ceiling in awe. “You weren’t being an asshole because you hated him, you were being an asshole because you liked him!”

“I think we should leave, actually,” Sirius said, tugging at Remus’ arm. “Now’s a great time to leave—”

“Wait, wait,” Remus pulled him back. “I want to hear this one.”

“No, no—Jamie, please—”

“We had a whole fight about it, Remus,” James implored, leaning forward in his chair and attempting to straighten his glasses. “When you first came to Lil’s for drinks that one time, I had to drag that idiot into the kitchen and threaten to tell you he liked you myself if he didn’t straighten himself out.”

“I can’t fucking do this,” Sirius grumbled, sinking down into the couch and flinging his arms over his face. “I’m done, I’m dead, I can’t.”

“Shh,” Remus shushed him—the traitor—nudging his side pointedly.

“And then,” James continued, the big bumbling idiot, “he gives me all this grief—pouts and whines about it, and then he goes out and talks to you for twenty minutes and comes back inside giggling and kicking his feet. Twenty minutes—that’s all it took. Really, I take credit for this,” he gestured between them. “If I hadn’t told you to play nice, you’d still be doing the old cold shoulder thing.”

“They probably would have managed it a lot sooner if you hadn’t intervened that time at that little ice rink, James,” Lily scolded good naturedly, and they were off on a tangent again.

Sirius hoped James’ little anecdote wouldn’t worm itself too deeply into Remus’ lovely, tipsy brain, and when the group eventually stopped teasing the two of them and the night continued on without a hitch, he thought he was in the clear. But later, after everyone had left and they’d retreated to Sirius’ room, while Remus was having a little snoop around and Sirius was watching from the bed, he brought it up again.

“Hey,” he said out of the blue, leaning back against the desk where he’d been observing the photos on the wall, “Were you actually being weird with me when we first met because you liked me?”

Sirius groaned, threw himself back onto the bed and covered his eyes. “No, please. Don’t do this—”

“You told me on Halloween that you were nervous.”

“I was!”

“But were you nervous because you liked me?”

Sirius peeked out between his fingers and found Remus smiling, a smug, teasing little thing that made something deep in his gut kick in interest. He huffed indignantly and sat up, staring at the ceiling in protest.

“I was…” he started, searching his brain for the right word, “intriguing by you. I thought you were adorable—fucking sue me.”

Remus ducked his head and laughed, and despite all his pouting, Sirius smiled reluctantly.

“Well,” he sighed, pushed off of the desk and moseyed across the room leisurely. He stopped at the foot of the bed, held his hands out and hauled Sirius up when he took them, lacing their fingers together and swinging them idly. “To be honest, that makes me feel a lot better.”

“Why?”

“I really did think you hated me,” he said, shaking his head fondly. “Like really, really hated me. I thought our mutual interest in ABBA was what changed your mind.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “ABBA did not change anything.” He bit at the inside of his lip, watched a sweet little smile tug at the corner of Remus’ mouth and felt his heart skip in his chest. “I liked you before that, and I liked you even more after that.”

“So ABBA did save me,” Remus grinned, and god, Sirius adored him so much he sort of felt like he was choking on it, so he reached up, threw his arms around his shoulders and held on tight.

“No, ABBA saved me,” he urged, pressed a kiss to Remus’ jaw and suppressed a shiver at the feel of fingers trailing up his spine. “I had no fucking idea how to talk to you—you really threw me off there for a second.”

“How?” Remus laughed. “How the hell did I throw you off your game that bad?”

“You were so cute,” Sirius gushed, pulling back just enough to pout at him. “I didn’t know what to do!”

“How do you think I felt?” Remus urged amusedly. “It’s a miracle I’ve been able to get more than three words out of my mouth the entire time I’ve known you.”

Sirius sighed, melted into Remus’ arms and pressed the side of his face to his chest. “We were idiots, weren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed. He tightened his hold on his waist, looped his arms around his back and nuzzled into his hair. “I think we really were.”

“At least we sort of have our shit together now, right?”

“Sort of,” Remus agreed. “Maybe not completely, but better than we did then.”

[silkscream]

BROOOOOOO DRUNK ASS PETER BEING CLINGY TO READER THO imagine this. you’re at a party with your sneaky link and he won’t stop kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your body, when you guys are supposed to be a secret!

no because this is so so good.

mdni (18+ only) nsfw under the cut!!!!

this is the part within the evening that you like to call purgatory. you aren't the most social butterfly despite the fact that you love to party, but you've never been one to take the shots amongst your friend group. in short, this means that you're able to get fucked up rather quickly, and you'd rather not deal with the genuine socializing part of partying considering how much of a loner you are.

"babe."

when you turn around, you're surprised to be met with a certain pair of honey-brown eyes, black pupils wide and nearly rabid in the way his gaze dances over you like bouncing electrons. his hands are wrapped around your waist almost instantly. at first, you feel that familiar warmth that sprouts inside your abdomen, but then you remember that you're in public.

"hey! pete, how are you doing?" you murmur to the body behind you, maneuvering yourself out of his grasp and turning so that you can face him head-on. you take both of his wrists into your hands.

"jesus christ. you look so pretty," he muses, his eyes half-lipped and dopey in his facial expression. he lets go of you, freeing his wrists from your grasp so that he can raise them to place the pad of his fingers across your cheeks. you feel so fucking soft.

"god, feel so pretty. wanna see you in my bed."

you giggle nervously, taking peter's figure around your arm and ushering him towards an empty corner. you don't know where this is coming from -- the two of you were friends with benefits, albeit "secret" lovers considering the fact that your collective friend group would freak if they found out, and naturally, the two of you were so private about your sex lives that having your friends find out would be absolutely unbearable.

also, it was somewhat fun to hide from everyone, to keep one another as a dirty little secret. it all happened out of nowhere after all, and you weren't about to confirm anything definite with a boy you knew saw you like a doll that he could play with. it sounds degrading, but you trust peter. being secretly intimate with him feels like a release, for some reason.

and for a moment, it does feel freeing. the way that all of the lights are dimmed other than the spotlights that are colored. a rainbow of twinkly lights bounces around the darkness of the dancefloor. you see peter's face change through highlights and shadows and every hue of the color wheel.

you sigh when you feel his hands snaking up the skin on your sides where your dress doesn't cover, his mouth making his way from your collarbone to your jaw. he nibbles on a bit of skin right below your ear and squeezes your ass in an attempt for you to moan, react, anything. he just wants to hear you.

"what are you fucking doing?" you hiss. "all of our friends are here."

"aww, that's awesome! i love my friends so fucking much. but you, more. so fucking pretty, i wanna show you off."

"peter, we're supposed to be a secret," you exasperate, removing yourself from his touchy hands and holding him firmly by the shoulders.

"whyyyyyy?"

"i... i don't know. it was your idea." your voice is so small that you aren't convinced that you had actually said anything out loud. the sound of the crowd around you drowns everything out.

'"y/n, can you just let me admire you in the way you deserve--"

"peter, stop, they're going to notice!"

"i don't care if they do. i want to kiss you and i don't care who watches and in fact, i encourage it! fuck, i just want to touch you. why can't i touch the person i'm literally in love with?"

"you-- you're what?" your mouth is agape while peter gets closed, putting his hands on your cheeks as his gaze looks over yours so lovingly.

"i love you," peter breathes. "so fucking much. could fucking eat you."

he says the last part in between kisses trailing your jaw. when you feel his teeth grazing your skin, your eyelids flutter. you merely melt into his touch.

you don't remember the moment he gets to your mouth. again, his teeth graze you, teasing your bottom lip to the point where you have to push him back further. you kiss him rough, hard, and he has to retaliate with a firm grip on your waist.

"i... i think i'm too drunk to call us an uber," peter breathes, gasping from his release from your kiss. you adore how exasperated he is, along with the frantic nature of his gaze.

"i think i am, too," you chuckle.

"don't worry you guys, i got it, just accept my venmo request tomorrow," ned waves off, and when you drag peter along with you towards him, he can't help but laugh at how child-like peter looks as he follows you.

"were you here this whole time?" you slur.

"y'all weren't slick. the moment you made out mj and i were just relieved more than anything. just, please be quiet when we get to the apartment, okay?"

"no promises," peter mumbles, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"peter!"

[thegeneralrpofhell]

Aditi stalled at Lucy barreling out in a hurry, giving a small snicker at her enthusiasm. A content smile came to her face when she saw how Lucy had dolled herself up for the occasion. She knew how insecure her girlfriend could be, and doing small things to uplift her was something she enjoyed. Praising her being the favorite. She set her own bag down and walked over to Lucy. The taller girl didn’t give her time to doubt, her hands gently cupping her face and leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “You look better.” She countered quietly, smiling before looking down to their bags. “Have you ever been out at sea before, dear?” She asked curiously, a couple of her appendages shot out on instinct and grabbed the luggage for them both. Seems they were eager to go on this vacation too.

———

Putri clapped her hands together and bounced in delight at their brief interaction. Pete announcing his full name made her squee quietly, but noticeably enough. She was beyond excited and proud of the young one for simply.. existing, in this moment. Needless to say, she was caught off guard by Drake asking if she had the correct kid. “Hm? Oh yes, he is the one! Truly, no other child can compare. You see, my goddess- Aditi-! Aditi, roped me into assisting with her part time job, being a sport’s coach. That is when I met Pete. He outruns all of the competition, I have seen nothing like it before.” She boasted, throwing her short arms in the air for dramatic effect. “We can excel him to greater heights, I know it! Intelligence is.. optimal, but it isn’t always necessary to make a champion!”

———

Though Fay wanted to giggle at the idea of the kids in suits, the topic at hand was far too depressing. The more she thought about it, the more she realized... her friends felt more like family than her actual relatives did anymore. “... I know. It feels like a stupid question to ask almost. Do we wanna invite our family? Yes, of course, we do!” She exclaimed, only to deflate a moment later. “But... that’s not the real question, Yur. The real question is should we invite them.” She toyed with a stray strand of her hair, sighing deeply.

“... I don’t think my dad would even come. My mom would drink herself to death and try to take her dress off-“ She cringed at the mental image, remembering all the family functions and school events her mother ruined because of her rabid alcoholism. She definitely didn’t want her wedding to become apart of those not-so-found memories. “Do you think your dad would even come...?” She asked curiously.

———

Iyabo flushed while laughing, trying not to stare at his sharp teeth. She wouldn’t admit it regularly, but she liked them. She liked most things that had animal-like qualities to them. He fit the bill, from his canines to his given name. “Shit, guess I don’t got a choice dis time ‘round. Te car’s warmer than some alleyway, I ‘pose. Ya won’t beat me in te game department though, I’ll tell ya that. I practiced since last time, an’ ‘m a pro at throwin’ darts now!” She proclaimed, remembering how she accidentally hit the poor man running the dart game in the head last time. It made for a good laugh now at least.

“Hell yea. I like lookin’ nice as much as te next girl, but I ain’t keepin’ dis dress on longer than need be. Only fer te festival.” She confirmed, cringing at the idea of wearing these outfits longer than need be. Even if they did look nice.

[pigsonthewingpdx]

A letter to the Pigs on the Wing community from Keeley St Clair

To My Pigs on the Wing Fans and Family,

I’d like to begin by sharing my deep gratitude to all our fans who have unendingly supported us, and to convey my love for this band-family, whom I have grown indelibly close. I am honored and humbled to have had the opportunity to be a part of this project for the past seven years, during which, some of the most rewarding, fun, and ridiculous memories I hold have occurred.  

Looking back on our evolution as a band is a testament not only to our love of Floyd’s music, but a testament to our fans’ support and sometimes rabid appreciation. Believe me when I say, we love your rabid nature. I have been stirred by stories our fans have shared with me about the importance of Floyd’s music in their lives. How the music that we play has helped some to re-awaken their spark of youth; to touch the wonder that comes from being in just the perfect time and place. For others, an experience of one rare, and ineffable moment where music builds a sonic bridge to the divine. Some of you have shared with, and trusted me with your stories of loss, love, and triumph, and for that honor I am grateful.

I have always held close the idea that playing the music of Floyd, such as it is, brings with it a weighty responsibility to do it justice. That not only are we paying tribute, but that we act as stewards of this exquisite art that is Pink Floyd’s catalogue. That it’s not as important to play each line or melody note for note, but that we interpret its energy and emotion as a way to celebrate its brilliance through our connection to it. I thank you for gracing us with the opportunity to be those stewards of this music. It’s been a true honor.

It is with a heavy heart that I share my plans to step away from performing with POTW due to some chronic (but nothing I can’t deal with - I promise) health concerns. I will continue to surround myself with music through my work here in Portland as a Music Therapist, and have an inkling that a local project or two might just be in the works. For the time being, I plan to have one last waltz with this crazy POTW family of mine on January 11th at Revolution Hall. We would love if you would join us, and tickets will be on sale this week. In this vein, I would like to introduce Holly Brooks, who will be stepping into the special position as female vocalist, and who will be joining us on stage at the Rev Hall this January. I know you will all welcome Holly into the POTW family with open arms and hearts, just like you did for me. Welcome to this weird and wonderful family Holly.

To my band fam:

For Corn, who often skipped dinner breaks on the road to get things just right on stage, who’s giggle often turns to crackle, and who loves to share new music with others

For Doug, who’s irreverence is legend, who whiskey fears, and defacto Captain of the “A Room”

For Erik, who can’t help himself from sharing an inappropriate amount of knock knock jokes, and who’s mind wanders the cosmos

For Shira, who plays her sound equipment like an instrument, and who hosts one of the biggest heart’s I’ve ever met

For Rene, who is always down to adventure, loves Thom Yorke like I love Bowie, and who takes care of all the nitty gritty dude-needs on the road

For Bryan, who’s optimism is unparalleled, who’s kindness should give all pause, and who’s percussion skills are ridiculous

For Pete, who’s manly chest is sought after, who can rile a crowd from 10 mile off, and who is just the snuggliest little bear

For Dave, who’s guitar skills are far and away above any other I’ve met, who is always ready with a movie quote, and who has a penchant for ill-timed ice cream runs

For Jones, who appreciates the intricacies of yacht rock, who knows how to choreograph a good karaoke number, and who nails Waters’ laugh and crazed timbre

For Welder, who’s earnest, honest, and loving, a true friend, and one who can slap-a-deh-bass like a sea bass bad ass

Last but not least, for Baker, who’s commitment and fortitude literally keep us above water, who’s empathy is inspiration, and who’s late-night-green-room-laughs make it all worth it.

It’s been real fam; from Murder Motels to Meat Bagels, Steely Dan load-outs to post-show stories, nose-salami gifs to 3 am bass-offs, Labatt’s where are my pants to pickle backs; I love you all so very much, and I will so miss my time with you. Thank you for having me.

Shine on,

Keeley St Clair