goldenprophetwrites

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Sign-ups and Claiming for Padfoot Fest 2025 Starts Today

Hello, everyone! The time has come! Claiming starts today!

Before you sign up for our fest, please remember that this fest deals with mature subjects and the participants are responsible for curating their own experiences within the fest. This applies to viewing the prompts list, which is uncensored.

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Because the prompts are distributed on the first come first served basis, please, choose three preferred prompts for maximum satisfaction. You will be able to claim ONE prompt during the Claiming period (June 15th – October 19th). We will not list the claimers name on the prompt list.

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The prompt list can be found -HERE-.

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[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A120! 🌙 Title: Alizarin Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

Unlike most of his patrons, well-known enough that he’d at least read their name in the paper at some point, he wasn’t quite sure what—or who—would be awaiting him today. The invitation had arrived early the Sunday before in an unmarked envelope with a gold wax seal. Remus had been startled out of sleep just after dawn by an incessant scratching at his bedroom window, and once he’d blinked the sleep from his eyes enough to peel the envelope open, he found a short note in long, loopy script he didn’t recognize. 

Mr Lupin— 

Your services are requested for a portrait at my new estate. Please respond when is most convenient to schedule an appointment. The owl will wait. 

S. Black 

Remus, still a bit delirious from sleep, had slowly looked up to confirm the massive tawny owl was indeed waiting on his bedroom windowsill, still as stone, staring at him with giant black eyes. A twinge of unease prickled at the back of his neck. 

He knew the surname—Black—but then, everyone did. Infamous, ancient, heavy with power but long tarnished by rumours of corruption and scandal. Last Remus had heard, the majority of the original lineage were dead or had vanished years ago, likely living under false monikers to avoid connection with the family. In all his keeping up with the newspapers over the years he’d never once heard of an S. Black, but imagined them to be yet another stiff-lipped, deplorable aristocrat wasting away in some sprawling manor in the countryside.

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A136! 🌙 Title: Where the Wild Thyme Blows Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

He steels himself and turns to meet kryptonite head-on. “Hello, again.”

The stranger’s smile blooms, uneven and unerringly charming, until his cheek dimples thoroughly. “Hi,” he replies around his grin. The grey of his eyes spark with the flickering candlelight and the same mischief from the museum shop, dark and syrupy; a flytrap. 

Remus picks up his drink, takes a lingering sip in an effort to save himself. The stranger watches his throat work as he swallows, and Remus feels himself willingly sinking into honey.

“Sirius,” he says before Remus has the chance to form a coherent thought.

Remus takes Sirius’ extended hand. It’s warm and pale and still distractingly sexy, much like the rest of the man it’s attached to. “Remus,” he returns, voice slightly hoarse from the sight of the tattooed fingers he’s spent the better part of forty-eight hours thinking about currently wrapped around his own.

“Remus,” Sirius repeats, rolling the vowels and consonants on his tongue, lip bitten on his growing smile. He’s still holding onto Remus’ hand. ���Suits you.”

[goldenprophetwrites]

We've gathered here today in celebration of men with pretty brown eyes

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A97! 🌙 Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

Since Teddy moved out, it was only Remus rattling around in their house. He wasn’t surprised when Teddy sat him down one day. “Dad…I’m worried about you. Maybe you should move somewhere so you won't be so lonely,” Teddy said. It felt inevitable, really. How could he even fight it? 

So he packed his things and put the house he, Teddy and Dora shared on the market. Hopefully some young family would buy it and make it come alive again. 

Teddy and his girlfriend, Victoire, drove him to Godric’s Hollow Retirement Community with his belongings packed in the back of the rented van. Remus just felt numb, except for the ever present pain in his joints. 

“Welcome,” chirped a woman with a cloud of brown curls and an easy grin. “I’m Hermione Granger, the director. We’re so happy you’re here, Remus.”  Remus smiled tightly, unsure of what to say. Of course she’d say that. It was her job.

They’d visited and taken a tour before giving the down payment, so Hermione led them straight to her office. “This is your room key,” she said, handing him a keycard and a piece of paper. “And this is a schedule of activities.”

Remus put on his reading glasses and peered at the activity sheet. Painting. Chair yoga. Poetry. You could fill your day with all of these things and still not know what to do with yourself, he thought. 

“Time to rejoin the world, Remus,” Hermione said. Or leave it, he thought. 

“I think this will be good for you, dad,” Teddy said, looking around the suite later.  He and Victoire helped Remus unpack enough of his things that it looked like a vague approximation of home. When they’d finished, Remus sat down on his bed, taking in the new surroundings. An open living space, now situated with his couch and dining room set. His bedroom, off of the living space, with his bedroom set. There was a little kitchenette, but most of his meals would come from the communal dining room. He was silently grateful to not have to sit alone at an empty table if he didn’t feel like it anymore.  

He and Dora bought their house when they were twenty two, painfully young. Their parents had to co-sign for it but they never ended up needing the help. Remus had lived there ever since. He’d gone through all of his lives’ ups and downs in that house. Teddy’s birth. His first steps. Getting his doctorate. Dora getting sick. Caring for her. Losing her. All of Teddy’s graduations. But now the space had felt too empty for a long time. At least here, there was less space to fill. 

There was a knock on the door, shaking Remus out of his memories. 

Teddy opened it, and two women entered with balloons and what appeared to be a basket of muffins. “Welcome!” they chorused. The shorter, blonde woman gave Remus the gifts. “I’m Flo, she’s Mary. You’re a tall drink of water, aren’t you?” Flo said, looking him up and down.

“Hush, you’re spoken for,” Mary admonished. “But I’m not.” She winked at him. “We hear you’re a professor. You have that professor energy.”

Remus chuckled in spite of himself. “Yes, I am. Thank you for the gifts. I appreciate them.”

“We call ourselves the welcome wagon,” Mary said. “Come, eat lunch with us.”

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A119! 🌙 Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

The moment the front door closes behind them, it's like a switch is flicked in Sirius. In an instant the mask he presents to the Capital is shed and in its place, the real Sirius in all his authentic glory that only Remus gets to appreciate.

As the lock clicks shut, Sirius' arms are around him, clinging so tightly with a murmured "I missed you so fucking much," into the back of Remus' neck.

Remus has to physically fight against Sirius' arms, elbowing just enough space that he can turn around and face Sirius properly. His cane disregarded with a clatter on the floor without a thought, Remus cups Sirius face in his hands, runs his thumb over that soft skin and sharp cheekbones that captivated the nation. He kisses Sirius' cheek, his forehead, his lips, before wrapping his arms so tightly around Sirius shoulders and burying his face in his neck and just breathing.

And for a moment nothing else exists. Not the tour, not the Games, not the Capital. Just the two of them, together and alive and unrestrained.

After a while the world starts turning again. Slowly they slip apart—still touching, always touching even if only a faint brush of skin against skin.

Sirius leans down to retrieve the forgotten cane. Remus takes Sirius' arm for support when they walk through to the kitchen even though he doesn't need it (not physically at least, but emotionally maybe.) Sirius rests his chin on Remus' shoulder lightly, peering over to watch Remus make tea. (Plum and jasmine tea because Sirius mentioned it was his favourite once. It's a luxury not afforded to the districts but Remus made sure to get some when he was last in Capital especially for this moment.) And they sit so close with their warm mugs at the kitchen table that their legs tangled together. For a moment they can pretend they are normal, that this is their mundane routine.

[goldenprophetwrites]

new professor & baby?????

summary:

Baby: i can't stop thinking about it i'm so excited for you to come back

Remus: Me too, baby. Just a few more days…

Baby: saturday!!! fair warning: my cock might be rubbed raw from how much i'm wanking over this

Remus: Now that won't do, baby. Need you in prime condition for Saturday.

Baby: what would you have me do, then? NOT wank?

Remus: Now here's a thought…

[goldenprophetwrites]

Whoops! Forgot to post this :,)

a lil bit of Wolfstar for pride monthhh

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A45! 🌙 Title: Cursed Heaven Find the previous snippet of this fic here Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

“I’m not insane,” he said with a shrug, as if the whole thing was nothing. “I know he could’ve seen me. But you looked so serious, inspecting those vials. I wanted to make you laugh.” 

He straightened up, now barefoot on the grass, and looked at Remus with a mix of pride and pout on his face. 

“I was working,” Remus replied – oddly like he was explaining himself – but he couldn’t stop the smile that broke across his face. Sirius had wanted to make him laugh. That did something strange to his insides. 

“Well, I like it better when you laugh,” Sirius said, stepping closer – very close now, his bare toes nearly touching the worn tips of Remus’ shoes. He reached up and brushed his fingers along Remus’ face, tracing the corners of his eyes where the laugh lines settled. 

Remus’ smile faded slightly at the closeness. He wasn’t used to casual, gentle touches like this. Affection had been a rare thing in his life, especially since his parents passed. It always felt so good when Sirius touched him like this, but it also sent a chill of fear up his spine. Like some part of him knew he didn’t deserve this. 

“Stop it,” he whispered. Weak, his tone betraying the meaning of his words. 

“I do,” Sirius insisted softly, fingers still brushing along Remus’ laugh lines. He smiled up at him, sun catching in his blue-grey eyes. “It crinkles your eyes right here,” he murmured, watching closely, like he was trying to memorise the shape of him. “You’re so, very handsome.” 

And then, Remus kissed him. Partly because he really wanted to, but also as a futile attempt to think of something else – to quiet the strange fluttering in his stomach, that feeling of floating, like he was losing touch with the ground. Sirius kissed him back, of course. He wrapped both arms around Remus’ neck, fingers tangling in his hair, and pulled him down until they were both toppling into the wildflowers, lips still locked, bodies twisting together in the fall. 

Sirius laughed softly against his mouth as he rolled them over, settling on top of Remus, straddling his hips. He pulled back just enough to look at him, propped on his elbows, his nose only an inch from Remus’ face. 

“Why do you blush?” he asked, a little furrow appearing between his brows. “You always tell me I’m pretty when you’re fucking me,” he added, punctuating the words with a slow roll of his hips. 

Remus gasped at the friction, head falling back into the flowers, petals tangling in his hair. He reached up and tucked a strand of Sirius’ hair behind his ear. 

“You are pretty,” he murmured, hand trailing down to the pale column of Sirius’ neck. “You like hearing it.” 

Sirius smiled. “I do,” he said, easily, without shame – so free to admit something that would make Remus cringe if he had to say out loud. “You are too,” he added, softer now, leaning in to press kisses to the corners of Remus’ eyes, his cheek, his jaw. “Lovely, lovely Mr Lupin,” he whispered, lips drifting lower to the curve of Remus’ neck, his fingers working open the top buttons of Remus’ shirt.

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A115! 🌙 Title: Permanence View the previous snippets for this fic here: 1 2 Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

Werewolves, due to their condition, have a high pain tolerance.

Sirius knows this, of course. He knows to be more careful than usual not to upset old injuries, and to initiate breaks because his werewolf clients never do.

Sirius has never, however, been turned on by this fact.

There's something about Remus, looking almost sleepy as he tattoos him, that's driving Sirius mad with a sudden burst of desire. Remus looks so soft in his jumper, one sleeve pulled up just enough for Sirius to work, and it's as hot as it is endearing.

Sirius has never had such a hard time concentrating on a tattoo, but he forces himself to stay on task. He will not botch this, he can't.

Remus speaks, now and then, head bopping slightly to Sirius's music filling the private back room. The only sign Sirius sees on him that the tattoo process has any effect on him is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the healthy flush in his cheeks.

Sirius wraps up the muggle tattooing kit once he's done with it, moving onto the complex spellwork that would keep the tattoo from warping or changing, even with the monthly transformations Remus endures. The tattoo heals perfectly under his precise wand-work, and when he finally looks up from it, he catches Remus looking at him with an expression bordering on awe.

"Thank you so much," Remus says, voice wobbling slightly with emotion. "You have no idea how long I've had this thing, how long I've been wanting to get rid of it."

Sirius has some idea. Remus looks to be in his early forties, and his Marker seemed to be at least three decades old. Sirius couldn't imagine the vile human who would do that to a child, but he doesn't say any of it to Remus. No need to bring up what is surely a traumatic memory for him.

"Well," Sirius says, "I'm glad I could help."

Remus pays him, and Sirius walks him out to the front of the shop.

"Thanks again, Sirius." Remus smiles warmly, clutching a hand over his newly done tattoo. "I had a really good experience with you."

"Yeah, of course," Sirius says, struggling not to stumble over his words. "Anytime," he continues, cringing at himself.

"See you around?" Remus is still flushed from the appointment, though if Sirius looks closely—and he does, he can't help it—it seems to be getting darker rather than lighter.

"Sure," Sirius replies, barely concealing his grin. "See you around."

[goldenprophetwrites]

accurate

instead of writing the last chapter, I made a quiz :)

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt D6! 🌙 Title: La Sylphide Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

“Remus?”

Remus turned his head and spotted Regulus leaning against the doorway to what he presumed was the younger man's office. He’d never heard his name in the way Regulus had spoken it, and he quickly decided he never wanted to hear it any other way again. “Hi.” he said, “I thought you’d be,” he gestured toward the usual classroom. “In there.”

Regulus shook his head, “Pandora is covering my lesson today. I have a few things to sort for their trip next week.”

“Oh,” Remus said, “I’ll just– go then.” he paused and before he could take it back or correct himself, he saw a slow smirk spread across Regulus’ features. 

“Do you only attend if I’m teaching, Remus?”

It felt like a trap. He was going to fall right into it. His brain was moving too quickly. Fuck. 

“Yes.”

Double fuck. 

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙Hey Moony Lovers!🌙

It's officially one month to go until posting starts! In celebration, we'll now be posting snippets twice daily so you get double the amount of sneak previews as to what's to come!

And remember, claiming is open all the way to 29.06.2025 so there's still time to join if you haven't already! (Plus min. word count is only 1000, so you can get some short and sweet works done ;) )

Lots of love, Your Moony Fest Mods🌙

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A33! 🌙 Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

“Walburga’s son is here for you.”

Remus pulled off his reading glasses and reached for his mug, only to realize as cold tea hit his tongue that he had forgotten a stasis charm. Wincing, he set it down and waved a hand at Peter. “Thanks, Pete. Send him in?”

“Not your secretary, mate.”

“You’re the only other employee today, mate, and my knee is fucked,” Remus retorted, albeit with a small smile. They were a small operation, and the witch that worked their front desk was out for the week. Also, his knee was, indeed, fucked, and Morning Remus had boldly assumed that the pain would’ve dissipated by now and didn’t bother bringing his cane.

Pete rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but slipped away to inform the waiting client that Remus was right this way, if you please.

“Here’s Sirius Black for you.”

Remus straightened in his seat, thanked Pete, and turned to his client. He blinked. Rubbed his eyes and blinked again. Surely this wasn’t the representative for the funeral of the Black family matriarch.

Sirius had the same grey eyes that Remus recognized from Walburga’s picture and the same black curls that everyone in the family seemed to have, but his eyes were warmer, kinder. His hair wasn’t slicked back like his father’s always had been, at least in the pictures that Remus had seen in newspapers, but rather piled on top of his head in a messy knot. His wand was stuck through the mess of hair, and he was dressed like a Muggle biker, wearing all black, fitted, heavy clothes. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his motorcycle jacket, and most disconcertingly, he was grinning like a maniac.

Everyone had different responses to grief, Remus knew. He’d spoken to people who sobbed through the whole meeting, while others developed hair-trigger tempers that were set off by the most arbitrary of comments, and some still that just seemed bored by the whole ordeal. Sirius Black was none of these; he was smiling, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he took in the room, scratching one hand absentmindedly across the scruff on his cheek. His nails were painted a wild array of colors. There was silver shooting through his mess of curls, and it glinted in the light when he turned his head.

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt A92! 🌙 Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

Remus approached the cafe not knowing what to expect. He wondered if the woman he'd spoken to on the phone would be there and hoped she wouldn't. She'd sounded so polished and intelligent that Remus couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. This was probably a course for culinary students or people who wanted to open cafés, not pushover dads who would rather learn a new skill than say no to their child.

The door was the same cheerful red as the text on the flyer. A flashing neon sign above it said The Blapo Bakery in block text. When he pushed open the door and walked in, the first thing Remus registered was smell. The bakery smelt like heaven. Well, most bakeries did, but this one smelt like heaven had just come back from the spa. It was strong but not overpowering. The second thing that struck Remus was red. The people at this cafe really loved the colour red, apparently. The walls were wallpapered in red stripes and the floor tiles were maroon. Little tables were set between chairs that were upholstered in–you guessed it–red.

"Wow, red," Remus said, out loud for some reason. He heard a chuckle to his left and spun around to face the source of the laugh. It was a woman sitting behind a counter that seemed to double as both a reception area and a billing counter. She had red hair tied back into a bun and her piercing green eyes bore holes into Remus's own when he made eye contact with her.

"It is, isn't it?" she remarked and Remus realised she was the lady from the phone call. Her crisp pant suit was definitely intimidating enough.

"I'm Lily," she said, holding out a hand. Remus walked over to her and grasped it. Her handshake was firm and confident, her hands soft and probably moisturised with a fancy cream whose name Remus couldn't pronounce. "And you are?"

"Remus," he said. "I'm here for the… the class. Baking class."

She pointed at a door he hadn't noticed earlier. "Straight through there. You're just on time. Class will begin in two minutes."

Remus had barely taken a step towards the door when it burst open and a man in a red apron entered the room with his arms up in a defensive motion.

"Alright, Lils, I've set up for the class, but I'm still not quite sold on–"

Lily cleared her throat frantically and pointed in Remus's direction. Remus gave a weak wave. The man straightened up immediately and beamed at him. He had the messiest hair Remus had ever seen–managing somehow to outdo Tonks when she'd had a DIY Mohawk–and square, gold rimmed glasses. He had a name tag that read 'James' attached to his apron.

"Oh. Are you a student here for the cake workshop?" James asked. Remus coughed uncomfortably and nodded. "Ah! Alright, then–straight through this door. I'm James and I will be your teacher for today."

[goldenprophetwrites]

me yesterday about this piece:

father lupin, your local burnt out youth pastor

[goldenprophetwrites]

🌙 A sneak preview for prompt I24! 🌙 Title: Soft Browse all the prompts || Sign up to the fest

The kitchen was cast in the amber glow of the setting sun, steam from the pasta pot clouding up the windows. Neither Remus nor Teddy turned to look at her, both seemingly lost in their own worlds. 

She paused in the doorway, taking a moment to soak in her little family. Teddy stood on his chair, bracing his elbows against the kitchen table as he scribbled on the back of an envelope, tongue sticking out between his teeth in concentration. He had grown so much lately - no longer her little baby. “A big boy,” as he proudly told anyone who would listen, holding up three stubby fingers. 

Remus stood over the hob, his back to her as he stirred what smelled like Alfredo sauce. His silver hair winked in the warm light streaming through the window. He would need a haircut soon. 

She scanned him with her eyes, admiring the way he looked in his silly little floral apron - long legs and that flat arse she found so adorable. He was still dressed from work, his shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows as he cooked. 

Teddy turned and gave her a wide, toothy grin. He opened his mouth to shout out in greeting, but Tonks held a finger to her lips, giving Teddy a conspiratorial look as she pointed to Remus’ back. Teddy's hands flew to his mouth in a failed attempt to stifle a giggle. 

She could tell from the tilt of his head that Remus knew what she was about to do. Even from behind, she could tell he was smirking. 

She snuck up behind him, exaggerating the movement for Teddy's benefit, before reaching up to grab the neck of Remus’ apron. His face nearly split from holding back a laugh as she pulled him backwards, blowing a loud raspberry on his neck. 

Teddy shrieked, nearly falling from his chair in a fit of giggles. Remus, to his credit, had managed to keep his eyes on the sauce he was stirring, his lips still pressed together in an attempt at decorum. Tonks felt a surge of affection for her boys. Her family. 

She snaked an arm around Remus’ waist, propping her chin against his shoulder blade. He continued to stir, but she could see his cheeks twitching in a goofy smile. 

“Can I assist you, madam?” he asked politely. He shifted ever-so-slightly, leaning into her embrace. Tonks grinned, sliding her hands further down his abdomen. 

“You can after Teddy goes to bed,” she said in a low voice. 

He stiffened before he finally turned, his eyes filled with questions. Tonks nodded, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 

“I did the charm earlier to check. I'm ovulating.” She pretended not to notice the panic that flickered in his eyes before he, too, began to shine with excitement. 

He brushed a hand through her short hair, his mouth twitching slightly. “That's - that's good,” he rasped, nodding to himself. “Good. We'll, er…” 

Tonks smacked him playfully across the chest. “Please,” she gasped, clutching invisible pearls. “Stop being so seductive in front of our son,” she scolded haughtily. “It isn't decent,” she added, making a lewd gesture with her fingers.

Remus’ mouth curled in amusement, but Tonks couldn't help but worry about the uncertainty in his eyes. He turned back to the hob, his shoulders slumping slightly as he resumed his vigil over the sauce. 

Casting one last uneasy look at her husband, Tonks turned to Teddy, holding out her arms, her mouth pulled in a wide grin. 

“Your turn!” she warned as swooped down on the giggling boy, covering him in loud, smoochy kisses. Teddy shrieked with delight. 

After a dozen more kisses and a quick tickle, Tonks plopped in the chair across from Teddy, slightly out of breath. Her toothy smile faltered as she turned her gaze to Remus, who seemed to have forgotten where he was. 

He stood frozen over the hob, his face blank as he stared blankly ahead. He still held the spoon in his hand, but he had ceased stirring. Tonks could smell the sauce burning to the bottom of the pot. 

“Remus, love?” she asked, sounding far lighter than she felt. 

He was doing better. I thought we were past this. 

Teddy looked between his parents, his eyes filled with concern. He raised a finger to his lips. 

“Daddy scared. Stay quiet,” he said seriously. It broke his mother's heart that he had memorized her instructions. 

“Good remembering,” she whispered, reaching across the table to stroke his blue curls. “Daddy just needs a minute.” 

She rose and slipped in beside Remus, running a hand down his back. 

“You okay?” she asked, knowing perfectly well he would lie. Predictably, he nodded, blinking rapidly.