#like Dorcas and cold air

[james-sunshine-potter]

What would each Marauder characters smell like in Amortentia:

James: Broom polish, cinnamon, fresh spring air, oranges (like a tangeriney smell) .

Sirius: Hairspray, Ash (the smell of a campfire), vanilla lip balm, basil.

Remus: Black coffee, a brand new book, caramel, whiskey.

Peter: Sunscreen, watermelon (but the artificial smell), mint (fresh, like you’re smelling the herb directly), fresh laundry.

Lily: The sea, strawberries (fresh not artificial), lavender, dewy grass.

Marlene: Broom Polish, cigarettes, rain, apples.

Dorcas: Coconut, Acrylic Paint, Cold Air (it has a fresh scent imo), Cherry Coke.

Mary: The Earl Grey Tea She Drinks, Chocolate Chip Cookies, Sweet Cream, Her Vanilla Purfume.

Regulus: Cold Water, Pine, Musk (it’s in his cologne), Expensive Ink.

Pandora: Seaweed, Limes, Rosemary, Soil.

Barty: Oil (don’t ask why), Cedar, Rain Water, Copper.

Evan: Sandalwood, Coffee (with milk), Coconut Conditioner, Grapefruit.

[daenysx]

hello!! Your writings are amazing, can i get a james x female reader where reader gets jealous for some reason but she doesn’t say anything and james notices something is bothering her and just lots of fluff? Have a great day!!

i love how i can write fanfic with honest and dreamy characters, james is literally perfect for this! thank you for requesting lovely, i hope you enjoy

james potter x fem!reader

there's a girl at the party who wears your boyfriend's jacket.

you don't react because she's obviously james's friend. james stands next to her, talking to sirius and he doesn't see you standing at the door yet. you look around; you see remus drinking and talking to lily at the corner, marlene and dorcas are busy trying on a new lip gloss and they are clearly drunk. you don't think about the girl you don't know yet, maybe she's cold and james is so lovely, he gave his jacket without thinking anything-

well, there is something which you can't explain in this scenario. the girl keeps leaning towards james, her hand slowly makes its way to touch his arm. she's smiling, she keeps talking to sirius at the same time. she's leaning again, and again, until she presses her head to james's shoulder.

there's a pit in your chest, the possesiveness and the jealousy fill it cruelly. james looks dizzy, he flinches a bit, and he doesn't even look at the girl's direction. his eyes are on sirius, he laughs at him loudly but still it doesn't make you feel any better. she wears his jacket and she touches him, you are begging yourself to go get your boy but it's like your feet are stuck here. your lip twitches, you blink slowly until the ache in your chest lessens.

you take a few steps towards them, finally. james sees you and a huge smile forms on his face. he shrugs off, the girl backs off, james realizes there's an actual person on his shoulder. all of it happens in a second and suddenly you are pulled against james's chest, making an eye contest with sirius black.

"oh, hello." sirius says, he's clearly more drunk than james. "you look gor-geous."

you smile at him, james pulls you to his chest even closer. "thanks, siri. you look like you're having fun."

sirius gives you a charming smile. "i'm having too much fun mocking your boyfriend's new haircut, lovely."

"okay, stop flirting with my girl you dickhead." james says.

you still don't know who the girl is but that's because the boys haven't tried to introduce her. you fix james's hair. "i think it's nice." you say, referring to his haircut. he really looks good.

"yeah?" james whispers. "you like it?"

you nod, james leans in to kiss you. your lips meet halfway and sirius makes a stupid sound he always makes when you show affection in front of him. "ugh, it's like seeing my parents."

you smile, the girl and her hands are almost forgotten. she doesn't let you forget her though, she touches james's arm again and offers him his jacket back and smiles at him.

"thank you, james. i had a great time with you." she says. she makes a great job at ignoring you and your hand on james's back shakes. she leaves, james holds his jacket. you hide your face to his chest. you can't handle your boyfriend being so sweet and oblivious sometimes, you can't help but remember how she looked at james and how she tried to touch him further.

james still doesn't realize anything. he keeps talking to sirius, he thinks you're tired and that's the reason why you still hold onto him like you're hiding. you are not sure if you should feel this much of jealousy but she had his jacket and she touched him and she ignored you and she smiled-

"baby." james's voice interrupts you. "are you okay?"

you nod. "i'm fine. just tired."

"do you want to leave?" his voice sounds like he's sobering up, the effect of drinks slowly leaves his system as he sips ice cold water. you nod, he takes your hand and leads you outside. he passes your drunk friends carefully, you take a huge breath when your face meets the fresh air.

the street is quiet, james still holds your hand. you take another breath, looking at his eyes. you know he doesn't believe you when you say you're okay and act far from okay, but he doesn't push it. he just looks at you with his pretty eyes full of questions.

you can't resist, you can't hide anything from him for too long anyway. "that girl- um, she was wearing your jacket."

"yeah, she's an old friend from school. she said she forgot her jacket and she was cold."

you know he is honest, james has no reason to lie to you. "right." you say. "but well, i just noticed how she kept touching you and- it looked like she was trying to get close to you, i think."

james lifts an eyebrow. "wait, really?" he's cute when he tries to process what happened. "i mean, i don't know her intentions but- that's weird now that i think about it."

maybe it would be hard to believe if it were someone else but you trust james with your entire heart. you know he's open and honest with you all the time, you never had any reason to doubt him. he looks concerned right now, like he hurt you somehow. you squeeze his fingers. he pulls you closer to hug your shoulders.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart." he says against your hair. "i imagine how that must make you feel."

"it's not your fault jamie." you say back. "you were only talking to sirius, i don't even think you realized her touching your arm, you were a bit drunk, remember?"

james hums, your words help but probably because he tries to create the image you saw in his head, he frowns.

you tilt your head back to kiss his frown off. james accepts your kiss hungrily, he kisses you back with adoration. his hands cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing your skin until you relax.

you give him a smile. "i love how nice you are to people."

james kisses your forehead. "i might be less nice, from now on my girl will be the only one who wears my jacket."

you blush, that sounds good actually. "james-"

"i don't want to see you upset. i'd be upset if i were you."

"thank you, baby." you say. "but you don't have to act differently, i love you exactly the way you are."

james thinks for a moment. "okay. then let's say i'll be more careful to understand people's intentions."

"let's go our home." you whisper. james nods with a kiss on your head.

you kiss him fondly on his cheek, your heart feels like it'll explode out of love. you smile, james's frown fully disappears. you hug him properly, putting your head on his shoulder, feeling his fingers on your hair.

[girasollake]

could you possibly do the one bed trope with prompt 16 (“when was the last time you slept?”). can you make it remus lupin x fem!reader?

✧ remus lupin x fem!reader x one bed x “when was the last time you slept?” ✧

(this request is a part of my writing event, here is the link to the masterlist of the fics i'll be publishing from said event:) )

❁ thank you for the request! i kinda didn't know how to put the one bed trope in this so i hope it turned out fine<33

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

The cold air hitting your cheeks made you feel this uncomfortable stinging in your face. You tried your best to warm up, but the lack of gloves didn't really help with that. None of this would happen if the stupid portkey threw you out where it was supposed to. Instead of landing in front of James's home, you were walking through a foreign town with no sense of direction. Looking around you spotted an elderly woman and after approaching her to ask for help she kindly described the way to the Potter Manor. You thanked her and started making your way through the thick snow. After fifteen minutes you stopped feeling your nose and fingers, but then a soft sigh of relief escaped your lips when you finally saw his house in the distance. You were surely late, possibly the last person to arrive, but you couldn't care less at this point, all you wanted was a blanket and some hot chocolate. This was the first time you would be spending half the winter break somewhere that was not your house. But you simply couldn't refuse when James and Lily invited you, especially when she mentioned Remus would be there as well. She has been teasing you about this little crush ever since she saw you drawing him mindlessly in your sketchbook during History of Magic. It also didn't help that she immediately told James, which you didn't know about. Ever since then the pair had been plotting on how to get the two of you together.

You slowly knocked on the door, not even feeling any sensation in your kncukles. Lily opened it quickly and ushered you inside.

“Merlin, you’re freezing!” she exclaimed and took the bags from your trembling hands, “I’ll get you a blanket and something warm to drink, the others are right down the hall.”

You thanked her and went to greet the others. You hugged everyone and immediately sat down in front of the fireplace, the warmth sending a blissful feeling through your body. A moment later Lily entered the room with the necessities for you. After snuggling into the blanket and calming down, you realised the one person you couldn’t wait to see simply wasn’t there.

“Where is Lupin?” you asked curiously, a hint of worry in your voice.

“He should be here soon.” James simply replied and tried to hide his little smirk while exchanging looks with Lily.

You nodded at his response and went back to slowly sipping your tea. You engaged in a conversation with Marlene and Sirius when a loud banging on the door caught everyones attention.

“Must be Moony.” James stood up to open the door for him.

You heard them greeting each other in the doorway, Remus’s beautiful voice quickly catching your attention. They entered the room and your eyes met with his, your heartbeat sped up and a small smile crept up on your face. You broke the eye contact and buried your face in the mug taking another sip. He greeted everyone and sat down next to you, probably to warm up since he was shivering, but you wanted to think he sat there to be next to you.

“It’s getting late.” You heard Dorcas speak up, her statement followed by a loud yawn from Sirius.

“Yeah, we should go to sleep.” Sirius said loudly, but then whispered the next part, “We can get drunk tommorow since your parents leave in the mornin’, eh?” His turned to James with a grin.

Everyone nodded and started to get up to head to their rooms.

“Um, James?” You grabbed his sweater. “Can you show me where my room is?”

“I’d like to know where mine is too.” Remus added from behind you.

“Oh, um, well….” He scratched the back of his neck. “I hope it’s not a problem but… everyone had sort’a picked their rooms already and there is only one left so I think you’ll have to share.” He tried his best to sound upset and hide his small smirk. “I’m sorry, I’ll show you where it is.” He grinned to himself when he turned his back to you and started walking towards the bedroom.

“Well, if this truly is the only option then you can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor.” Remus’s voice startled you.

You were still processing what just happened, deciding if you should follow James or not.

“What, sorry?”

Remus just chuckled softly, “Come on, let’s go before he decides to take that bed from you.”

He playfully pushed your arm with his elbow and followed his best friend. You quickly regained your senses and caught up to them. Your bags were already inside the bedroom, what a surprise.

“I’ll leave you to it. Night!” Potter winked and slammed the door shut, a few soft whispers and giggles could be heard from the corridor, but all you could think about was..

“What now?” Your soft voice broke the silence.

“Like I said before, you take the bed and I’ll just take the floor.” He replied and shrugged his arms.

“No, let’s just… let’s…” You really wanted to share it, but you didn’t want to push too much. “Let’s take turns.”

“What?” He laughed.

“I’ll sleep in the bed tonight and you will sleep here tomorrow.” You replied, “No negotiating, that’s the deal if you want to sleep on that floor so badly.” A smirk crept up on your lips. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta change.”

You took your belongings and quickly headed to the bathroom, not even letting Remus speak and argue with you. When you came back he was already in his pyjama bottoms laying on his makeshift bed - two blankets and one pillow. You sighed at the view and headed to bed, it turned out to be way comfier than you thought it would.

“Good night.” The boy spoke up from the floor after he turned of the lights.

“Night, Remus.” You replied. “Are you sure you want to sleep on the floor?” Your concerned voice echoed through the quiet room.

“I’m sure.” He whispered.

After a few minutes you were asleep, all this stress and walking through the cold had exhausted you. You needed this rest and Remus knew it, when he walked into James’s house he told him about your broken portkey and how freezing you were when you arrived. He was worried about you. James knew about his little crush so it was purposely the first thing he told him after his arrival.

He shuffled on the floor and started gazing at the ceiling. He didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to get these terrible nightmares again. He tried his best to keep his eyes open, but your presence and the sound of your soft snores made him feel so relaxed he couldn’t resist falling asleep.

An hour had passed and he woke up in cold sweat, another nightmare. Remus took a few deep breaths and stood up, quietly making his way to sit on the wide windowsill. The sky was so clear that he could see all the stars, he tried occupying his mind with counting them, but quickly gave up on that idea.

“Remus?”

He turned his head in your direction, you were sitting up in the bed with messy hair adoring your face and squinted eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” He whispered.

“Why are you not sleeping?” You yawned. “Do you want the bed?” You patted the comforter with your hand, still with sleepy movements.

“No, I’m good.” He gave you a soft smile.

“Then go to sleep.” You replied. “I won’t sleep if you won’t…” Another yawn escaping your lips. “…sleep.”

He chuckled, “I..”

“I’ll go back in a second.” He murmured and turned his head to the stars again.

He heard shuffling behind and thought you gave up, until he felt your finger poking his arm.

“Sleeeep.” Your tired voice made him giggle, you were too adorable.

“I told you I’d go in a second.”

“A second has passed.” You sat down in front of him, sleepiness slowly leaving you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” He replied, avoiding your gaze.

“Look me in the eyes then.” He didn’t. “Alright, then. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Everything is fine.” His eyes were still glued to the sky. “Why do you think something is wrong?”

“I could see your dark circles today, matter of fact, you’ve had them for around two weeks. You are slower than usual, lately you haven’t been so active in classes, or even with us when we hang out. And now I find you in the middle of the night looking up at the fucking sky.”

He just looked at you, it was an answer he didn’t expect.

“What? I just pay attention.” You shrugged. “Remus, when was the last time you slept? And I mean a full night of proper rest without any disturbance.”

“I don’t.. I don’t know.” He lowered his head.

“Aren’t you tired?” Your voice was filled with care.

“I am, but I can’t…” He took a deep breath. “I can’t sleep because of the nightmares.”

You were silent, thinking about your next words.

“Just go back to sleep, don’t worry about me.” He begged.

You shook your head and stood up. “Get up.”

“Please, just..”

“No.” You cut him off and then grabbed his hand. “We are going to share the bed. I want you to at least be comfortable and help you if another nightmare comes about.” You dragged him towards the bed and turned to face him just before getting in. “Unless you don’t want to, of course. Or if it makes you feel uncomfortable, I mean the bed is nice but… Um, sharing it with me may make you uncomf…”

“It won’t.” The corners of his lips lifted up.

You reciprocated the smile and you both got into the bed, keeping some distance between you.

“Night.” You whispered.

“Night.” He replied. “And thank you.”

“I’m always here if you need me. Don’t be afraid to wake me up if you get another nightmare, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Promise me that Lupin or I won’t believe you.” You softly chuckled and he followed suit.

“I promise.”

In the morning both of you were woken up by James screaming “I KNEW IT WOULD WORK, OI EVANS YOU OWE ME 10 GALLEONS!”

All because he saw the two of you cuddling. You both acknowledged the position you were in and after looking into each others eyes, you fell asleep again. No communication needed this time.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

© girasollake 2023

there may be some mistakes, but i’ll fix them tmrw!! x

[remuslovebot]

rockstar!remus with clingy and drunk reader pls pls pls 🫶🫶🫶

of course!!! omg I love this idea

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐑.𝐋

summary : at one of the marauders after parties, you have a little too much to drink.

warnings : not proof read, major fluff

paring: remus lupin x fem!reader

Remus had just performed a sold out concert with his fellow band mates — the Marauders. Now, he was at an after party, filled to the brim with groupies, celebrities, music producers, etc. But he only wanted to find you, to take you home and sleep.

He was exhausted and as much as he loved being famous and well known, Remus enjoyed performing and making music more than going to parties.

The sandy haired boy attempted to find you in the crowd, but alas could not. Where did you go? He thought, turning every corner as if it was a labyrinth. With every part of Sirius’ mansion, more people were in his way.

Meanwhile, Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice had taken you after the concert. The girls wanted to get to the after party as soon as possible. Alice had her hopes up to see the new A-list actor, Frank Longbottom. Marlene and Dorcas, already together and in the music industry themselves, promised to introduce the two.

While Alice was chatting up Frank, and Marlene and Dorcas were busy making out in a broom closet, you had gotten bored and missed Remus. So you indulged in a few drinks.

…

Stepping outside, the cold night air made Remus smile. Inside the house was hot and sticky. He smiled when he spotted you, a red solo cup in your hand. You were laughing and Remus walked towards you.

“Hey love,” he said, a hand going on the small of your back. You turned to him and smiled drunkenly.

“Remus!” You exclaimed, a crooked smile taking over your face. “I missed you so much! I’ve been looking for you since the concert ended!”

The boy could tell that you’d had a few drinks and we’re definitely not sober.

“I’ve been looking for you too Y/n,” he replied. “Want to head home?” He asked.

“No!” You whined, your head dropping. “Wanna stay and play beer pong!” You smiled.

Remus could never say no to you and especially wouldn’t say no to the cute smile you wore at the moment.

“Alright lovie, one round of beer pong and then I’m taking you home,” he said, compromising.

You nodded, it only being fair. “Oh alright,” you said, standing up and almost losing you balance. But not to worry, Remus was there to catch you in an instant.

“Are you sure you can play beer pong like this?” He asked with a little smirk. You pouted and looked a little annoyed. The crinkle on your forehead—that Remus adored — showed.

“Yes. I can play.” You insisted.

One round of beer pong later, you had sobered up some but not entirely. Remus was by your side the entire game, helping you decide which shots to make. Which James wasn’t very happy about, seeing as competitive he was. Frank and Alice were near the table but not big fans of the game, as they were too busy falling in love. James won the game, winning over a kiss from Lily.

At the end of the game you were beat and still a little drunk. You wanted to go home. As you were leaning against Remus for support, he looked down at you.

“I think we should head home love,” he said, grabbing you by the waist and picking you up into his arms. You nudged your head into his neck. “Alright, Remmy,” you mumbled tiredly.

Once in the car, you passed out. Remus laughed to himself at your drunken state, knowing full well you would be hung over in the morning.

“Come on love, we’re home,” he said, unbuckling your seat belt. You woke up, a bit drowsy and super clingy.

“I’m tried Remmy,” you pouted, leaning into his strong body. He wrapped his arms around you and led you into the house.

“We’re going to get you to bed lovie. Promise,” he said, kissing your forehead.

Once at your bedroom, Remus sat you down on your shared bed and helped you into your sleep clothes. He gave you a glass of water aswell. All the while, you reached out for Remus’ touch.

“Wanna hold you,” you pouted, already in your night clothes. Which consisted of one of Remus’ old sweaters and sleep shorts.

Remus undressed himself and hopped into bed just wearing his boxers. He pulled you to him immediately, waisting no time in holding you.

“Well maybe I wanna hold you?” He teased, kissing your hair.

You turned to him and smiled lazily, sleepiness coming over you. “You did so well tonight Remus. Greatest rockstar ever!” You said, kissing his nose.

Remus wrapped you tighter in his arms and kissed your forehead. “Thanks Y/n, performed for you and only you,” he said, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered to him.

Because you were.

A/n: hoped you liked this! Don’t forget to reblog and like, love you guys 🥹 also I’m slow with fulfilling requests but please still send them, I will get to them i promise <3

[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 8. year one: october 28th to 30th, 1972

pairing for this chapter—f!lestrange!reader x barty crouch jr. warnings for this chapter—sum swearing, implied underage drinking (not reader), being a bad friend word count—3.4k

your birthday has officially arrived, not without some notable oddities.

author's note: missed being a miserable tween. also who can tell that barty might have a crush on her? not me definitely

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | ttp masterlist | < back | next >

“so,” dorcas sounds, and the way she purposefully moves her head in your peripheries implies she will say something you won’t necessarily like, “your birthday is coming up,” a quick look from you, up and down – from the tips of her muddy boots to the wind-swept hair. a few snowflakes sit nestled between the curls, and her eyes crinkle with mischief, “are you having a party?”

you try your best to breeze through the clock tower courtyard unscathed, “no,” you state. lie. not exactly. it’s complicated, “what? why? have you heard something?”

she snorts, “nope, just asking. you seem to have a lot of friends.”

you suppose you are outstandingly popular. anyone approached is your friend upon a hello, but you only say such a thing to those worthy of your attention. most, of course, are in some even minuscule way related to your family. your immediate circle is just cousins. dorcas is, so far, the only one you’d never approach yourself, simply because she’s unremarkable and also a gryffindor.

somehow, still, you cannot shake her, and once the tremors of hysteria had melted into the hum-drum, you found yourself not wanting to do so, which unnerved you much more than her immediate presence at all times of the day. most times of the day. you try not to engage in public, especially in the sights of bartimus, marzipan, and matilda. barty you could still, perhaps, calm – a pointed look and a promise to tattle on some secret you’ve uncovered about him to his parents would make him malleable.

the girls, however, would propose a difficulty. they’re already proposing a difficulty. the odd stares you receive at times when dorcas waves at you, all with a good-natured smile that you feel, in those moments, you don’t entirely deserve.

hence, the haste. hence, you try to lose her, but she’s much more fit and much better at keeping up than her unsuspecting appearance might hint.

“yes, well,” you start, heat dousing your body and damp robes. the inside of the castle is warm this time of year as the elements grow increasingly unruly and cold. the dry air scratches at the back of your throat, and you inhale with a sniffle and a poorly masked cough, “i’m not planning anything.”

and you aren’t, truly, but that doesn’t mean no celebration will take place. in fact, based on what marzy and matilda are trying so hard to hide (and do such a honestly horrendous job, with all smug smiles and loud whispers and giggles a pitch too high), there’s an old classroom being transformed for a small gathering – forty people or so – to toast to your good health, mesmerizing beauty, unbridled potential, and immeasurable talent. you quite look forward to it, but you aren’t responsible for the invitations, as it’s supposed to be a surprise.

and even if you were, surely you couldn’t extend one to dorcas. a no name from a muggle family. she would be out of place.

more so, she would feel out of place. you doubt she’d be offered a warm welcome, and you couldn’t offer one to her either, not without being subjected to the potent glares and displeased remarks from those around you.

such a situation is not beneficial for anyone involved. thus, you are a good friend from sparing her of this ache, sparing the rest the discomfort, and sparing yourself a howler.

“i might throw a party for my birthday,” she says, stopping at the cross-roads where you must part – her for charms and you for potions. she fixes the strap of her book bag, bending somewhat under the weight, “will you come? if i decide to do one after all. ‘s quite far, still.”

“when is it?” you ask, somewhat impatient. your eyes scurry the interior, but no familiar faces as of yet.

“april,” ah, thank merlin, “april sixth.”

you shrug, but you don’t manage to meet her gaze, “maybe. if i’m not too busy. i’ll mark it on my calendar just in case.” april is still ways away, and by that time, you might figure out what to do with her.

she smiles, “i’ll hold you to it. don’t suppose you want anything?” you give her a puzzled look, “like, a gift.”

“oh, no,” you can’t imagine there’s anything she could give you that would please you and that would also be within her budget. once again, your endless compassion and big, open heart are on fervent display. if matilda and marzy knew (unpleasant details aside), they’d give you a standing ovation for your selflessness. it’s a bit vexing that dorcas doesn’t seem to share the sentiment. perhaps she’s a simpleton, “got nothing in mind.”

“okay, well, i’ll think of something then,” she says, one step back, “later!” and away.

you have no qualms with lying. you’ve done it your whole life. your first words, perhaps, were, too, some miniature lie. lying is no different than playing, and playing is no different from acting, and acting is lying, and so it’s really not a big deal. you don’t know any other way of being, and you quite enjoy having others bend to your smiles or your frowns. most go great lengths to appease you.

even now, you claim to have accidentally forgotten your quill, when in reality, you didn’t pack it on purpose. regulus, always having a spare, gives you his own, and makes you promise not to lose it. you complain that it’s uncomfortable in your hand, and that the colour is ugly, but in fact you do like the deep brown shade and firm edge of the feather.

bartimus sets up your cauldron because your wrist hurts from the frigid cold, and evan measures the ingredients – he’s much more precise and curious about potions, and he does it unprompted, almost as if it’s expected of him. it sort of is.

you have no qualms with lying, but you pause when bartimus asks, “what’s with that gryffindor following you around everywhere?”

your heart thumps, and the cool, damp potions classroom rises in temperature. all in all, it’s the most polite way he could have phrased the question, oddly mindful of professor slughorn’s all hearing ears lingering just close enough for him to behave himself.

“i’m blackmailing her,” is the only thing that comes to mind, and it does sound convincing. so convincing, in fact, your tone and look implies that he’s the stupid one to consider otherwise.

evan frowns, peering at you over the vapours emitting from his cauldron, “blackmailing her? why?”

you shrug, “because it’s fun.”

“seems awfully happy to be blackmailed, if you ask me,” regulus comments coolly.

“please, told her if someone was to catch a whiff of distress on her, then, well, she’ll certainly have something to be distressed about,” you move the ladle and mix your potion and thud-thud thud-thud thud-thud, “you’re a terrible extortionist if you can’t manage otherwise. rodolphus said he had all sorts of minions from other houses. can’t embarrass the family.”

“right,” barty raised a brow, “rabby’s embarrassment enough.”

you bristle at the words, true as they be. still, pride and blood are important, “your whole family tree’s in gryffindor. think before you speak, crouch.”

“sparks are flying,” he grins, “or is it just me?”

“as if i could ever look at your gaunt face and find anything appealing,” you snip, “you should learn some manners when speaking to your elders.”

“sincerest apologies, madam strange.”

“shut it, both of you,” evan grumbles, carefully dropping some powder into his mixture. it hisses and gurgles and a new set of fumes spew, “can’t concentrate with all this yapping.”

“woof,” barty sounds.

“dog,” you spit.

“bitch.”

you gasp and throw the nearest object your hand grabs, which is a (sadly) closed bottle of ink. he ducts just in time, but the impact makes the glass shatter, leaving a scary red splotch on the wall.

bartimus straightens as slughorn strides over to check on the disturbance. a brief explanation from evan is accepted without hassle, and the wreckage is handled by a flick of the professor’s wand. a disapproving look and a quick glance at regulus as a reprimand and everything goes back to normal, including barty and you, who is doing a masterful job of ignoring him and pretending your breathing hasn’t been affected in any way.

eventually class does wrap up and everyone leaves for the next lesson. you walk with evan and regulus, bartimus trotting a couple feet behind like a faithful hound, waiting to serve, ever the sycophant. you wonder if it's too late to beg matilda and marzy to revoke his invitation to your birthday party, because you know for a fact that he has one. possibly tossed it into a bin upon notice, but he had definitely, at the very least, seen it.

***

there’s a snow storm on your birthday, a harsh, miserable gust that rages across the landscape and traps everyone inside. so dense you can’t see out the windows, and so cold frost bleeds to water from glass pains and drips in rivulets on the tiles. it’s too early for such weather, but not entirely unheard of. when you were very little, rodolphus told you that mother and father found you in a heap of snow, warm and unharmed. now, of course, you have a technical understanding of how children are made, but shockingly, you had stoutly believed your brother till late last spring, till your first blood and that slightly uncomfortable but enlightening conversation with aunt greengrass.

matilda knew this already, by a few good months, which revealed why, at the time, she always seemed a bit snootier than usual, as if she had figured out something very important and negated to share. for the remaining spring and the whole of summer, the two of you had grown closer and left marzipan out – what could she, still but a child, understand about the woes of burgeoning adulthood? it had left her a bit desolate, and she had spent her holiday chasing sirius around, and as she smothers you in a tight hug with sleepy happy birthday whispered into your hair, you think you still haven’t forgiven her for it.

naturally, you have taken extra pains to make yourself prettier. your hair is glossier, and your uniform is tidier, and there’s a sheen of cherry lipbalm covering your mouth. narcissa, when she saw you, told you to wipe it off, and you did, only to reapply it when she wasn’t looking.

breakfast, the great hall’s polite congratulations, slytherin students that you almost recall the names of coming to wish you a joyous day. some revenclaws and marzipan’s brother come bearing chocolate toffies. it’s the same procedure as evan’s and matilda’s – the former’s birthday was just a few weeks into september, and matilda celebrated on october first.

you share the candies with the boys. evan takes one, regulus takes one, bartimus takes seven (to spite you, you believe), and you’re left with two. you offer one to marzipan, and she takes it with a smile, and offer one to matilda, who refuses, saying she’s on a diet. marzy’s expression crumbles, and she returns the treat, “never mind, not that hungry.”

“did you eat a strawberry?” bartimus asks, mouth full of toffies.

you frown, “what?”

“shit on your lips, what happened to table manners?”

“ignore him,” regulus interjects pointedly, “how are you feeling?” as in, how is it like to be twelve. bartimus’ birthday is just after sirius’, and so, regulus is the youngest of the present quartet, which leaves him naturally distressed.

evan scoffs, “’s no different.”

“i feel different,” you inform primly.

barty snorts, “don’t look different. still stupid.”

“hope you choke on that,” you glare. he snickers, the dolt, properly pleased to have ruffled your feathers. a quick communication between you and your pudding has you decided that you might despise bartimus crouch, or, more so, you despise the smug look he seems to fashion only when he’s pestered you into a foul mood.

briefly, you sweep the present crowd, and you spot dorcas sat among her friends, a table away. the sight alarms you somehow. perhaps it’s the picture of her happiness.

she must’ve felt you looking (such is the power of your gaze) because she perks up. twinkling brown eyes meet yours, and she waves with a grin, almost rising to approach, but your flash of an uncomfortable smile leaves her seated. when you glance around if anyone noticed, it’s only regulus that gives you a strange look, but says nothing.

sirius and his friends pass you as you tumble out the great hall. he, expectantly, walks right past, and it stings, but it stings even more when james calls your name much too cheerfully and says, “happy birthday!”

you walk past him as sirius had walked past you, without a moment of hesitation.

“you blackmailing him as well?” evan, surprisingly, asks.

you huff, “no, please hex him out of existence.”

“could be arranged,” barty says after an uncharacteristically thoughtful pause.

***

there’s definitely something more than punch being covertly served to the older students, but not like it matters much – you catch not a whiff of it, nor is any offered to you. suppose you are suspicious by the entirely inconspicuous clusters of people that exchange something and then part hurriedly with sour expressions that bleed into blushed faces and tipsy grins.

matilda, you note, is laughing ditzy with a second year slytherin. you suspect something nefarious, and make it clear with the slight narrow of your eyes. she cares not for it, which slights you, because it’s your birthday and you’re the most important person present.

speaking of, a pile of presents sits on a table, all expensive and neatly wrapped trinkets you possibly have no use for. still, the growing pile pleases you – once back in your dorm, it’ll be a challenge to go through it in a single night. you might just open a new one each day and have no gift-free evenings for the better part of the school year, but you are too impatient.

it’s all very pretty. the ceiling was enchanted to a deep, gleaming blue-violet, rippling along the dim, sparkling lights as though underwater. luminescent bubbles, a faint glittery mist, and floating incandescent jellyfish, translucent, yet you still raise your hand to touch one, feeling the slight coolness once it passes your fingers. you hadn’t asked who’s responsible for this display of magic, but you suspect it being narcissa.

when you smile at your ostentatious cake and count the flickering candles, you can only think of one wish – i wish sirius would come back to me. you inhale and then blow in one full swoop. the room drowns in cheers.

there’s faint music floating above your head, but nothing as interesting as to what sirius had made you listen to all those nights ago. you dance with evan, who seems much more awkward than you, and then with a few older students, with rabastan (unwillingly), and then with your girls. regulus had overtly refused your hand without explanation.

“it’s my birthday,” a demand. an excuse you can use only once a year, and you extort it fully.

he seems conflicted in the blue light, lastly, “fine. don’t step on my toes.”

dancing with regulus is different than dancing with sirius – regulus is shorter and younger, and his grip isn’t as firm, and he doesn’t once look you in the eye, and you’re a bit bored through most of it.

the night dwindles on, and you spot bartimus.

he catches you staring, and so he raises his cup, sat beside his older friends – a few second and third years that seem to be enthralled by his presence. it strikes you, strangely, how popular he seems to be. you don't like it.

and he's not exactly ugly, despite your claims. tallish,  the tallest of your lot, a long neck, neat auburn hair, sharp eyes, maybe. not entirely horrid and twisted as he could have turned out to be or will turn out to be. he seems a bit older, but perhaps it's because he's always been lanky.

no, he is ugly, you think. the lights must've caught him funny, and maybe that's why it seems he's glowing, his pale skin shimmering a ghostly pallor in the enchanted darkness of your birthday celebration, that is yours and yours alone, and no one can steal the shine or the honour or the beauty away.

matilda joins his table, and you note, in great distaste, that she also looks very pretty, and the dress suits her much better than yours does you. all dresses are now suiting matilda better, because this is the body she was born in, and it makes sense that she will always have the upper hand and you will always be behind her, somehow.

you grow unsettled in a way that feels somewhat familiar, but nothing tangible enough to understand.

dorcas would probably laugh. your stomach swoops and then drops, and it feels like the jellyfish swim inside you. dorcas would definitely laugh and pull at matilda's ruffles. and sirius, sirius would laugh with her and he would comment on how the dress is awfully girly and in poor taste, and then you would tell him off, because he has no taste at all, but not in front of dorcas.

you glance at door. sirius isn't here. he was definitely invited, but, of course, he wouldn't attend.

of course. of course of course of course.

matilda, prettier and better, better, it's not fair, doesn't even look at you, not since she knows, of course, she must know you are watching. she can't not know. the parallels and the similarities are obvious in a way they aren't to you. briefly, you think of poisoning her. you could get away with it too. what's a birthday celebration without any diabolical scheming, anyway?

when matilda smiles at someone (bartimus), a creeping sensation crawls beneath your skin. there is definitely some vile deed being done here, but not any of yours, unfortunately. the gathering, you decide, must end, and everyone must leave disappointed and displeased to match your mood.

"punch?" marzipan manifests by your side. you startle, glance to her, note her boyish appearance in relation to matilda's ladylike one, and somehow, her expression manages to irritate you.

"got one," you show your glass for emphasis, "did you happen to notice a grimace on tilda, or are the effects of whatever substance they're pouring into these cups only visible to the sober?"

"not a sip," marzipan sighs, "i've tried asking a third year, said i'm too young," her misery brings you a slight bout of joy. marzipan will be twelve late february, and so, she will always be the odd one out, "did you want any?"

you shake your head, "no, not really. maybe. i dunno."

"doesn't seem like you're having fun," she notes. then, she softly grasps your upper arm and squeezes, "cheer up. it's your birthday."

your smile is terse. the tension has left you feeling sore, like you ran laps and took too hot of a bath and rolled into a very tight sleeping position. you feel a bit wrong.

regulus calls your name, and he drags you away easily and without question. you spare marzy a vaguely apologetic look, leaving her stranded in the middle of the room, all lonesome. she does, at that moment, look entirely pathetic, and maybe you are very tired, because somewhere deep down you feel a pang of something.

you are lead to the darkest corner and let go promptly. before you can complain, regulus pushes something into your hand and says, quietly yet seriously, “i won’t tell.”

he makes scarce afterward, and you’re left confused. truly, this celebration has become more trouble than it’s worth. all these emotions hidden behind an unmoving veneer. it cracks slightly when you take a closer look at your gift.

it’s a handmade card, glued and drawn poorly.

‘to my favourite (and only one i will associate) slytherin, happy birthday. i promise i’m better on the broom than i am at drawing, but i wanted to make you this card anyway. once the skies clear up, let’s go for a ride along the shoreline. i found some sights exploring. we could make a whole adventure out of it. know a perfect location to practice hexes. despite it all, i’m very glad i found you crying.  -- your accomplice’

you hug the card without meaning to do it. you just do. you bring it close to your chest and lean your cheek, like it was something precious, and in a way, it is, because this is, by far, the most generous gift you have ever received.

[hauntedwitch04]

Veronica and JD

🎃Halloween party🎃  

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 1.3k words

Warning: Sexy Remus, just some mention of sex I think?, sexy Remus, mention of drinking, I already said sexy Remus ?

Author’s note: 10th day and we are still here! To be truth this is one of my favorite prompts, and I hope you like it as much as me.

p.s. I know I have a big problem with Heather, it’s kinda my obsession, but htat damn film is so good :)

✒️:   “Trick or Treat.” “I choose treat, but I know something sweeter than this candy.” “And what would that be?”

Requests are open I  Ask  I  My masterlist   I  Join the Taglist

Halloween is approaching, and at Hogwarts people are already feeling the festive air. Pumpkins decorate the bare hallways and the ghosts are happier and do nothing but play tricks on all the students. 

This year, after the prefects had spent almost a month convincing McGonnal and Dumbledoor, a party would be held on October 31 in honor of the famous holiday. No one believed it when the professor had broken the news in the Great Hall a few mornings ago, but when everyone had realized that it was not a joke by the Maraurders, as was initially believed, everyone had taken to scrambling to organize everything in every little detail and beginning to think about clothes. 

Lily and James had decided that they would go together and thus have costumes coordinated according to a Muggle movie that the redhead loves so much namely Grease. At first Sirius didn't want to dress up as anything, but when he had eavesdropped as a Hufflepuff girl who inerested in him hoped to see him dressed up as a vampire, because, quoting verbatim, "he was extremely cool dressed up as Dracula," he had changed his mind immediately. Marlene and Dorcas would follow Lily's idea, while Regulus still did not even know if he was coming. 

Remus had told no one how he would disguise himself, thus leaving the mystery for each of us to try to fill in with our own ideas. 

I had decided to dress up as the character in a movie I had seen last summer namely "Heathers," and I would be dressed as Veronica. 

Finally the fateful evening arrived and almost all of us headed to the party venue together, all except the werewolf. After a few seconds all I can do is lose them in the bedlam of that room. The happy couple immediately head for the dance floor and Sirius pretends to vomit when he sees them smiling and dancing tightly together to a Cindy Laupner song, though we are all happy that at least they have finally found love. 

I, on the other hand, am still here, drooling over the same boy since I was thirteen, when I know perfectly well that I am nothing more than a friend to him, and that only hurts. I've spent many moons by his side, I've seen him at his worst, and I haven't even been frightened of the monster he claims so much to be, but I still haven't been able to confess to him that I like him. 

Sirius left me a few minutes ago after seeing the girl he was looking for and now I am standing here by the refreshment table. I can't help but snort as I lean against the cold wall in contact with my hot skin from the heat of the room full of people. I notice that someone is leaning against the wall next to me, and just as I turn around to see who the asshole is that I have to tell to shit for entering my personal space I see Remus in all his glory. He's wearing a long black coat, his hair is tousled as usual. He has on a regular black T-shirt, jeans of the same color, and boots, very different from his school attire. Her costume is nothing special, yet I feel like I have seen it somewhere before. He seems to read my thoughts, because he immediately gives me the answer. 

"JD." He says with that sexy little smile, which God I have to try all my strength not to faint. "My costume. JD, the one from Heathers." Good to see you Veronica." 

She continues with the same little smile as she walks over and holds out her hand to me. I don't know how, probably the alcohol, I find the courage to answer him in kind. 

"Long time no see my dear punk." I say with the same little smile, just above the volume of the music. "You know, I had thought of all but that for your costume. I didn't think you were a fan of this movie." I continue, while still watching it, not wanting to miss every single detail. 

"You were the one who gave me that idea. If I'm not mistaken your exact words were, 'Fuck, JD could do anything to me and the only thing I would say to him would be thank you,' yes I think those were them. And how can anyone not watch a movie after such a review and you know what? You are absolutely right, he is damn attractive, but Veronica is no joke either." He replies, finishing by giving me a wink. 

Suddenly a wave of embarrassment rises up and warms my face, as I think about how I would do anything as well to him since he is so much more attractive d, when I start looking around, to get back to talking to the boy. 

"Trick or Treat." I ask him, as I grab a mouthful of candy from the coffee table in front and start eating it, and in response he looks at me confused, then replies. 

"I choose treat, but I know something sweeter than this candy." He says pointing to the candy on the table in front of us. Now it's my turn to be confused. 

"And what would that be?" I ask trying to be sensual, although I guess I didn't succeed very well. He swallows laboriously before answering me, weighing the answer. Then he brings his lips close to my ear, and whispers something that makes my candy go sideways. 

"You." He whispers, and I can't help but stare at his lips, and I see him do the same. 

"Are you flirting like me Lupin?" I ask, joking. 

"You've finally noticed," he replies seriuosly with a smile, coming closer still. "You have no idea how much you drive me crazy, how much I desire you, desire everything about you: your lips, your heart, your heart." He says inches from my lips, as I close my eyes and breathe in his intoxicating scent. 

"And what exactly are you waiting for JD?" I ask with a small smile. He replies with another smile before throwing himself on my lips. His are warm and soft and taste of tobacco and chocolate, an aphrodisiac flavor that lead me to hold him even tighter to me, putting my hands in his hair as he grips my waist with his powerful arms. 

When we part, breathless, we still wade into each other's eyes and without saying a word, laughing like madmen we leave the hall running through the corridors of the castles under the stunned and delighted gaze of our friends, still shocked at what has happened. 

BONUS 

At the back of the room were Minerva and Sirius looking at you shocked, before the professor started laughing like no one had ever seen her do, even Dumbledoor is shocked. 

"Yes, yes prof I understand no need to twist the knife." Black says, searching his pockets for the money he owed his professor. A few weeks earlier the two had made a bet: she had said that within a month you and Remus would confess to each other, while your friend had said it would take at least three months. As it turned out, Minnie had been right once again. 

Sirius annoyedly hands the money to the teacher, watching her smile. 

"It's a pleasure doing business with you Mr. Black, now if you don't mind I must go and toast the union of my favorite alumni." She says before walking away as the oldest Black follows her as shocked by her words he shouts. 

"YOUR FAVORITES? I THOUGHT I WAS! PROF, I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME! HOW CAN YOU BETRAY ME LIKE THAT!"

[robynlilyblack]

That doesn’t leave us many options

Sirius Black x fem! shy! reader

Summary: Sirius gets an unexpected visitor whose in need of a place to stay

Warnings: swearing, mentions of food, eating and sex, acquaintances (but more mutual pining for afar) to lovers, sirius being a total sweetheart

A/n: 2.7k words, it's a little bit different to the usual enemies to lovers one bed trope and is more friends to lovers, I hope you like it x

Navigation | Sirius Black Masterlist

You took a deep breath before lifting your hand to knock, but your knuckles barely graze the wood, resolve faltering once more. You had to thank merlin that his flat didn’t have a peep hole, only thing that could make this situation worse was the embarrassment of knowing he saw you standing outside his door for what was quickly becoming a shameful amount of time

It shouldn’t have been this scary, the goosebumps on your arms and legs half from the cold air and half from the reason you came here in the first place. If it had been any other marauder you would have been nervous sure but not near crippled at the door. But this was no normal marauder this was Sirius, he boy that rendered you, an already shy, near mute girl just that completely

You had liked him for a while, that school girl crush you held grew post-hogwarts when yours and Marlene's flat just so happened to be across the street from his, James' and Remus'. The narrow street and similar height of your windows made things a little difficult…little being an understatement considering the amount of bruises you had now sustained via falling and/or launching yourself away from the window when you saw him

“You got this” you whisper to yourself, bouncing on the balls of your feet in order to psych yourself up

One shaky breath later you knocked, letting out a small yip at how loud the first thump was before letting the next two be rather pitiful as if that would make up for it

Silence

You honestly didn’t know if you wanted him to answer, but as you heard some weird creak from down the hall you hoped he would, and soon at that. Marlene was staying with Dorcas tonight as it was their anniversary and Dorcas' flat was closer to the restaurant, while James and Remus were off on a camping trip.

Why exactly? Because Lily and Marlene bet James he could never camp like a muggle for an entire weekend. And as for why Remus was accompanying him? Well, someone needed to vouch James didn’t cheat and actually did it, ergo leaving Remus with the job as Sirius wasn’t trustworthy enough not to lie or find a work around on his friends behalf

You knock again, flinching at the grumpy ‘I’m coming’ before a small crash and swear. Shaking your arm you prepared for him to open the door, not knowing whether to cringe or brace yourself for the one extraordinarily upset puppy you just woke up

“What!” he snaps as quickly as the door opens, breathing heavy and a groggy look about him

His eyes are still half shut when he hears your little squeak, flying open to see you standing in front of him looking sheepish

“Y/n?” his face softens immediately, instead of anger concern now paints his rather chiselled features…

...Not the time y/n...

Out of all the people to show up at his door Sirius never would have expected you, yet at the same time he always hoped you would. It wasn’t that you never came over on your own but more you came to see or talk to anyone but him. It hurt, although it was more of a dull ache now, it had been like this since hogwarts, you and he just never spoke, no matter how much he wished you would

Instead he let himself admire you for afar, that statement made true as he bribed Remus for the front bedroom so he could face yours. He was never a creep, but he did workout by the window, read and do mundane things there just so he may glance up to see you reading, laughing with marlene, maybe dancing around as you cooked…and once falling which was equally concerning and funny to him

“Hi” you give him a shy smile that looks more like a wince, still nervous he’s angry you woke him

His heart ached that he shouted earlier, even if he didn’t know it was you he still felt bad, like the way you step on an animal's tail and can’t begin to explain how sorry you are. Sirius never really felt guilt during his worst pranks, the willow incident excluded of course, so this feeling was foreign, yet it was how he knew you were special, he didn’t just care for anybody

“Hi…” he says quite roughly so he coughs in attempt to remove the scruffiness “Hi” another cough “Hi…fuck it” he lets out a breathy laugh embracing the scruff, even more at your little giggle “What can I do for you darlin?” he wonders, it was late not quite midnight but still late, anything could have happened, you needed him and he was more than here to help

“Well…” your words lose you, although from Sirius’ rough voice, somehow perfect bed head curls and use of the pet name you just adored, you were sure those words where running off to the hills and never to return

“Well?” he extends the syllables softly, not wanting to pressure or scare you away

You chew on your bottom lip, breathing slowly in and out your nose to compose yourself and try to remember the little speech you had planned

“Marlene is out, she’s staying with dorcas and…” you say shaky, nerves overcoming you as this would be the longest conversation you had ever semi held alone with him

He mistakes your nerves for fear though “What happened? Someone try to get in? Something break? On fire? Trust me I’ve dealt with it all…mostly being Prongs as he has a nasty habit of leaving the door unlocked…” he speaks quickly, soon off on his own little ramble, hands subconsciously finding the sides of your upper arms 

“Sirius?” your voice is timid and quiet but it’s enough for him to stop

“Sorry” he shake his head and self out of it “Sorry” he repeats, removing his hands and letting out a edgy chuckle as he scratches the back of his neck “So Marls is at Dorcas'…” he prompts trying his best to stop the blush creeping up his cheeks

Your eyes widen nodding as you begin explaining again “Marlene watched a movie without me last week…” you aren’t looking at him more just in his general area, eyes defocusing so you could concentrate on talking hence you don’t clock his surprise amusement at your first statement “...you see we rented it together but she watched in retaliation to me eating her…sorry” you cut your ramble short much to the boys dismay

“Don’t be, continue” he gives you a sweet smile

You return it bashfully 

“I decided to watch it myself as we need to give it back in a few days but she didn’t tell me it was a horror movie. So now every shadow I see or noise I hear I’m terrified it’s a little…creepy…” you bring your hands to the bottom of your face, wiggling your fingers “...thing coming to get me” you lower your hands, a little embarrassed but his fond smile makes you less afraid to ask “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah” he says a little quickly and loudly causing you to jump “Sorry” he does it again before finally lowering his tone “Sorry. Still a little high from thinking I needed to kick a robbers arse” he plays it off, it was true in a way but he didn’t want to seem way too keen about having you under his roof

“I’m still a little high too…I sort of threw the remote control at a vase and smashed it thinking it was one of those things” you confess as he motions for you to enter and closes the door behind

He walks deeper into the apartment with you closely in tow “No shame in that. Me and Prongs made a fort the first time his parents left us alone, gathered every pillow and cover in the…fuck” he stops causing you to walk into the back of him

“Ow” you whisper as he turns around cringing “What's wrong?” you tilt your head

He scrunches his face “Moons and Prongs’ beds don’t have mattresses” he says almost like an appology

“Oh” you pout “What happened to them?” a small smile gracing your face as if you know the marauders you’ll know it’s something funny

“You can’t tell anyone” 

You hold up your pinky watching as he eyes it. You were about to explain what it was when he grins, wrapping his own around yours and giving it a squeeze before letting go

“Prongs and Moony bought a muggle tent for the bet, but Red and Marls never specified what size nor that the items inside couldn’t be charmed” he smirks and you listen to him entranced “They shrunk down their mattresses and bought an 8 person tent, took all of the covers and everything as Prongs thought a sleeping bag was uncivilised and Moony…well Moons’ back would break if he had to sleep on the ground like that” he chuckles

“That's really smart” you commend them, knowing pretty quickly it was Sirius’ idea by the way his happy grin turns prideful

“Thank you” he bobs his head, heart fluttering that his crush found him smart “Actually there is a spare mattress, we got it after the…” his words slow down “...you don’t wanna know” he shakes his head

You nod a little wary, following him into his bedroom and watching him look for the spare. You had never been inside his room, Remus’ loads since you, Lily and he would host your secret book club there, and even James’ once or twice. It was nice, smelt just like him, posters on the walls, clothes scattered about here and there but nothing too untidy

“Do you have a spare quilt too?” you ask causing him to stop raking and turn to you

“Yes” he nods but something flashes behind his eyes

“Yes?”

“Yes?…” his repetition is less certain “...No?” 

“No?”

He gives you a look somewhere between sad, embarrassed and weirdly proud “We used them to make a fort in the study so me and prongs could nap in our forms. They’ll be covered in hair…and probably drool…Prongs' drool’” he says firmly but the blush on his face tells you it’s not just prongs and you can’t help but feel your lips tug upwards at the image

You face then drops to a look of thought but before you could speak he does

“You can have my bed I’ll sleep in the little fort as Padfoot” he offers, ensuring your comfort came first

You start nodding but as he goes to leave you stop him “Wait…” you don’t finish your thought though

There were two perfectly good beds in your flat, you could offer them but a selfish little part of you wanted the idea that just sprung to mind “You once said that sleeping like that for more than two hours... fucks your back” you quote him on the last bit

Sirius’ face goes through a mixture of positive emotions that you remembered that tiny group conversation from well over a month ago as well as the fact you swear so sweetly it's almost not even one at this point

“That doesn’t leave us many options” his eyes flick to his bed then to you, as do your own, both thinking the same thing

“It’s a decent size” you note rather awkwardly

He chuckles “It is a decent size, average” he gestures to the air as awkwardly as you do before meeting your eyes “Little bigger than average actually” he says raises his eyebrows, underlying tone beneath h words

You cock your head in confusion before you get it, mouth like a fish before you press your lips together, trying to suppress your smile, cheek rising.

Sirius’ felt quite proud at that, especally as you were quite clearly flustered yet not looking uncomfortable, if anything your shoulders relaxed

Neither of you say anything else, instead moving to get into the bed, both fixing your pillows before you notice one final detail

“Single quilt?” you lift up the end Sirius places over you

He smiles coyly “Fake answer or real answer” he lets you choose, usually he would spout the fake one but you were you, he didn’t mind you knowing the truth

“Fake first” you ask and he obliges

“Cheaper and they only had a single at the shop” he says simply as you both shift under the cover, a healthy distance between your shoulders as you stare at the ceiling

“And the real one” you look over at him

He glances at you then keeps his eyes fixed to the ceiling, looking embarrassed as his answer is by any definition sadly sweet “A single encourages cuddling, something I really want but will never ask for cause I’m…I’m too scared” he admits, not daring to look at you to see your reaction, you probably think he’s a…wait

He feels you lift his arm, head snapping down to watch you slide in next to him, arm coming around his torso as your head settles above in the small space between his upper arm and chest

“Is this okay?” you check, even though you're sure his previous answer was an invitation...or at least you hoped it was

He doesn’t answer, just wraps his arms around you, tugging you impossibly closer and igniting some giggles from you. He eventually lets up his tight grip, your head on his chest with his chin brushing against your hair

“Why have we never really spoken to one another?” he whispers, the sorrow evident in his voice

Your head shifts upwards to you can see him, looking down at you with characteristic puppy eyes and you remain silent for a moment, thinking your reply through

“I’m quite shy…” you start “...back at Hogwarts you merely looking at me made me so…so flustered” you confess, eyes flicking away from him, missing how his own light up “I couldn’t even make a sound. Now, although I’ve gotten better I guess I supposed you wouldn’t be interested…in talking to me” you add in after a small break in order to save yourself from rejection

He gently rocks you closer and you return your eyes to his “I was very interested…in talking to you” he plays the same trick

“Really?”

“Really”

“Me?” you bring your hand up to point and he could've died right there at how cute you looked, eyes wide filled with hope, disbelief and everything he'd ever craved

“You” slides his arm from your waist, taking your hand and kissing the palm, lingering there as his eyes say fixated on you, and that was the moment you died and gone to the sweet hereafter

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, letting your hands intertwine before bringing them to his heart

You nod, heart thumping and you’re sure he can feel it as his is doing something similar

“Want to go on a date with me?” you nod again, a huge smile on your face “Sure? You don’t seem too eager” he teases, confidence returning now he knows you want him the same way

“Very sure” you can’t stop your smile from getting wider, nor your faces moving that little bit closer as you’re caught up in the excitement

He chuckles “We could make a day of it if you want? I have the bike” he suggests 

“What are you thinking?” you ask, eyes sparking as your faces continue to move closer

“Maybe to the peak district or the dales where some of those books you love are set? Maybe bring a picnic with us. With the bike we can get there in like a couple hours never any traffic up there” he jokes, cheeks going a little red as he realises how he just gushed, but the embaressement fade as your nose brushes over his  

“How long have you been…umm” you whisper, unable to finish as you didn’t want to assume

“A lot longer than I’d care to admit at present”

You both giggle

“You aren’t what I imagined'' you say when the laughter dies down and his head tilts ever so slightly “You know when you imagine someone in your head, and you tell yourself there is no way they would really be this sweet, especially not to me?” you think out loud

“More than anything” he replies, eyes meeting your own and occasionally your lips

“You more than exceeded my wildest dreams” you tell him, adoring how his eyes shine like the star he’s name after

“Ditto darlin’” he winks and chew on your lip, holding your smile as you watch his eyes drift down to it, lingering before the come back up “You should know that I’m putty in your hands…I’d do whatever you asked of me, and not even within reason I'd really do anything” he laughs as do you

“Anything?” 

“Anything” he nudges his nose with yours

“Kiss me”

Thank you for reading 💛

[vauxxy]

strangers

regulus black and remus lupin engage in some polite banter

1976, 2:45 AM

astronomy tower

as the end of the school year started approaching, regulus black began noticing the many changes happening at hogwarts.

for starters, the days lasted much longer than he liked, the sky only starting to darken around 6:30 PM.

the air became very wet as well- not warm, but not cold either. the clouds seemed to trap the warmth of the sun, composing the constantly humid weather that graced the school grounds.

finally, the people that he surrounded himself with began getting restless. constantly giddy and overexcited for summer, every conversation turned into plans to hang out over the school holidays.

“reg! you should come visit me and my family paris!” said rosier, who was sitting comfortably on a dark green couch in the slytherin common room. his limbs were lazily dangling off the side as his head rested on the worn down cushions.

regulus looked up from his textbook, meeting evan’s excited gaze.

“i’ll have to ask my mother,”

“why are you reading a potions textbook? let alone one from last year?” dorcas asked, her dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floor as she enters the room. she wore a dark red blouse with long, flowing sleeves and denim pants that flared out by her ankles.

regulus looked her up and down, one brow raised higher than the other as he leaned back in his chair.

“and why are you dressed like that?” he retorted. dorcas smiled, moving her arms rhythmically as her sleeves flowed around her.

“pandora and i are going to see a band,” dorcas shrugged, sitting down next to evan. he tilted his head backwards to meet dorcas’s eyes.

“why wasn’t i invited?” evan pouted, sitting up defensively. dorcas rolled her eyes, crossing one leg over the other.

“girls only.” she replied bluntly, ruffling evan’s bleach blonde hair.

by 12:00 pm, all of regulus’s friends had gone off to attend to their lousy attempts at rebellion or recreation. barty crouch jr was fooling around with a quirky little hufflepuff, evan rosier was getting stoned with a strange selection of people- all different ages and houses, and dorcas had taken pandora to a bar to watch a fleetwood mac cover band.

regulus would’ve rather taken a stroll over to the whomping willow than join in on any of their little endeavours (especially barty’s, obviously), so he decided to spend the afternoon alone again.

regulus black had began spending his nights in the astronomy tower at the beginning of his third year. he barley had any real friends, nor did he make any effort to gain some. despite his lack of initiative to form relationships, it seemed like one had whimsically fallen into his hands.

little 14-year-old regulus was annoyed at first when his older brother’s friend began coming up to the astronomy tower to chainsmoke and read shitty classic novels. remus lupin had the type of quiet energy that demanded solitude. he didn’t tell regulus to ‘go away’ but he sure heard it.

after 2 more nights of remus disturbing his peace, regulus spoke up.

“are there no other places on campus you can loiter around in?”

those few words turned into a few hundred, which turned into a 2-hour long conversation about the ethics of hogwarts as an institution. the conversation turned into a discussion, which turned into yawning and parting ways for the night, only to continue the very next day at the same time and place.

after a few weeks, remus stopped coming. regulus wondered why, but they had never talked about anything personal with one another. regulus didn’t know if he wanted to talk about personal matters with someone seemingly so close to his brother.

a month later, remus returned. this time, regulus didn’t hesitate to ask why he was back. why he wasn’t running around with those clowns he called friends. and remus answered.

“do you ever feel like there’s a weird distance between you and everyone else? and like, you don’t actually want it to be there, but you keep on like… making that distance?” remus asked, his voice tired, but his words fast.

regulus paused. “yeah.”

regulus was now 15 years old. the people that called him a friend were out partying, sleeping around, enjoying themselves- and here he was. back up in the astronomy tower for the first time in months.

he was sitting in a quiet corner, smoking on a cigarette he had stolen from the pocket of evan’s discarded puffer jacket. he flipped through the pages of his old potions textbook as the sound of footsteps echoed from the staircase.

“why are you reading a potions textbook from third year?” asked a husky voice, seemingly coming from the other side of the room.

regulus looked up, only to find a taller version of the boy he once knew. he walked over slowly, a newly formed limp stunting his pace. he was somehow even skinnier and much more pale despite the warmth of the early summer sun.

“just revising.” regulus replied bluntly. remus sat down next to him, leaning against the wall sloppily.

a few moments of silence passed, before regulus decided to speak up.

“we haven’t talked since april.” he stated. his voice was cold, but somewhat inquisitive. remus nodded, offering an affirmative smile.

“i’ve had less trouble sleeping, i suppose,”

remus pulled out a small metal box from his pant pocket. the act of opening it released a soft stench of tobacco and weed. he took out two cigarettes, before closing the tin and setting it down next to him.

regulus put out his first cigarette, taking the one remus had just offered him. after lighting both with his wand, remus took a inhale.

“your brother is a dickhead.” remus stated, letting the smoke exit his lungs.

“yeah, no shit,”

“i’m serious. he’s a full cunt.”

regulus looked at remus, his eyes curious, but his mouth too stubborn to give into his desire to know more.

remus turned around to face regulus as he noticed the look of intrigue in the younger boy’s eyes.

“did i ever tell you what happened on my birthday?” remus asked. regulus shook his head, letting copious amounts of smoke exit his mouth as he debated his response.

“no, you didn’t.”

remus looked down, smiling softly to himself. it wasn’t a smile full of fondness, but a smile that seemed to lovingly scold his past actions and feelings.

“i’m gay.” he said, slowly bringing his head up to look at regulus again. he rested the left side of his body against the wall as he waited for regulus to say something.

regulus’s voice was monotone, as if he didn’t really care rather than mind. it was apathetic, yet understanding. “okay,” he started.

“what does that have to do with your 16th birthday?”

remus took one last hit of his cigarette before putting it out on the wall.

“your brother kissed me.” he said bluntly. regulus nodded, urging him to continue.

“i had a thing for him, i guess. still do. but after that kiss, it all went back to normal, except it didn’t?”

remus rolled his eyes. “he was still constantly fooling around with random girls, but at the end of the day, he would come back to me.”

regulus was confused to say the least.

“for months we’ve been fucking around, pretending like everything’s normal- but i can’t help but feel so fucking angry at him.” remus said, his voice mellow.

“he’s very easy to be angry at.” regulus let out a dry laugh, putting out his cigarette and stuffing the bud in the corner of the wall.

“sirius- my brother, i mean…” regulus corrected himself. refusing to say sirius or james’ names seemed to be a strange expression of respect to each other- a promise of secrecy.

“my brother has a nasty habit of ignoring people like that. we would play card games with each other after he took beatings from my mother. you know, to get our minds off it.” regulus explained, looking to the side of the room as he spoke.

“but as we grew up, he got much colder. i’ve talked to him maybe three times this year. he acts like he doesn’t know who i am.”

remus listened intently, nodding in understanding.

“it’s funny- at family gatherings we still stick together. joke about our cousins while we hide in his room. but as soon as we come back to school, he sees me as nothing. another black family member to watch out for.”

regulus scoffed quietly, turning back to remus.

“i wish he knew you the way i do” remus said casually, lighting up another cigarette. “this would be much easier for the both of you.”

‘i wish he knew you the way i do’

those words lingered in regulus’ mind for a while. did remus know him? of course he did- but he didn’t see him- not the way sirius once did. he didn’t experience regulus- he didn’t talk to him outside of the astronomy tower.

but nonetheless, they were much closer than either of them had liked.

remus paused.

“you know he still loves you, right?” remus asked, looking into his eyes, only to meet an unnerving stare. unwavering in its coldness; its refusal to blink.

“of course he loves me. he’s my brother. but i don’t like it’s the type of love most people are familiar with,” regulus said.

remus tilted his head to the side. “how so?” he asked.

“you know how you love someone because you have to? like, you have to love your parents, even if they’re terrible.”

remus shook his head. “don’t have ‘em” he laughed pitifully. regulus smiled- a rare occurrence. “okay, okay- like… your caregiver?” he asked.

only then did remus nod in understanding. he thought of the coordinator at his boys home. she was an arse, but he still would visit her in the hospital if she got hit by a bus.

“i don’t love my brother like that. i don’t love him because he’s my brother and i have to. but, i also don’t love him as a person? like how you love the red head and her two little friends.”

remus pursed his lips. “so you just love him? not out of obligation or fondness, just cause?” he asked.

“not ‘just cause’. it’s involuntary, yet careful.”

regulus looked at remus, trying to gouge a sense of understanding from the other boy. a sense of understanding in which he received.

“i know exactly what you mean.”

two weeks passed and hogwarts was now empty. remus was couch surfing around wales with a few drug addicts and university burnouts, sneaking into bars and reading in messy rooms while his friends light up in front of him. he didn’t care though, as long as he wasn’t in the boy’s home.

regulus was wasting away his summer at his family home. his spare time was spent in front of his bedroom mirror, practicing polite smiles and agreeable gestures for the endless amount of dinner parties he was forced to attend.

regulus would hear yelling from down the hall as he stared at the mirror, forcing eye contact with himself.

he imagined himself as the voice from the hall, proud and stubborn. and as he looked in the mirror, he saw it.

he saw her.

when his brother knocked on his door in the middle of the night he was half asleep. he got up slowly and carefully. but when regulus finally mustered up the courage to open the door, there was nobody there.

regulus wondered if remus would understand what it was like to live so carefully. he sure didn’t act like it- running a muck around the school and such. but he would know better than to get up for a ghost, wouldn’t he?

or at least, he hoped he would.

it wasn’t until around october of that year that regulus talked to remus again. when regulus came to the astronomy tower for the first time since that night before summer break, remus had changed.

remus now knew what it was like to be more than ignored by sirius. he had been destroyed by him.

a/n: LOL i got like 4 reposts and a comment on that moonwater post and i felt like i JUST HAD to write u guys sumn. i haven’t proofread it bc i can’t be bothered, but i’m sure it’s somewhat comprehensible lol.

anyways!! i really hope i did the characters justice!! i might do another 2 parts for their talk abt the prank and christmas 1976 and for their first few meetings in regulus’s third year ^_^

also sorry if the timeline is messed up, i’m on the beginning of my third re-read and the last time i finished it was in march lol

have a merry christmas !!!

[saintchaser]

for @rotisserierye, happy birthday dude, cheers! <3

"Hey." Evan laughed, blood dried on his forehead and a bruised cheek and panting and heart thrumming in his chest.

"Hey," Barty whispered back, something feral in his voice. He grabbed a hold of his shirt and grabbed him, kissed him roughly, teeth and lips and blood, and Evan could fucking sink in it, if he wanted to. And he did, so desperately.

"Hey," Evan said and smiled, his eyes glinting darkly in the low, cold light of Grimmauld Place's hallways. "You look like shit."

"That's no way to talk to me, Rosier." Barty whispered, grinning. "Besides, you don't look all that good yourself, do you, now? Any news? Anything exciting you might have to report?"

"Saw Dorcas. She looks like shit, too." He ran his hands through Barty's hair, and the temptation to kiss his neck right there, where everyone could see them, was drowning him. "Who cares, either way? She glared at me and that was it. It's you who matters, either way. Fuck her."

"Fuck her," The other man's words lingered in the cigarette smoke-filled air. He kissed him again, and it tasted like blood, madness, and rotten. "How elegant and so typical Evan Rosier elegance of you."

Evan laughed, the bell of death. Anger was consuming them; they were dying. But to die by Barty's side, wouldn't it be so bitterly lovely?

[charmsandtealeaves]

@jilymicrofics | February Prompt List | No.7: Taste 

Words: 252

“Come on Lily you next!”  Lily had entered the common room to find her friends had gathered themselves around the seat under the stained glass bay window. Peter and James were playing chess on the floor, while Remus and Sirius were sharing a cigarette, flicking ash out into the cold night air through a window pane they had discretely popped out. Mary and Dorcas had curled up in the alcove and were brandishing a magazine in her direction.  “I’m not taking a stupid witch weekly quiz to tell me ‘what kind of witch or wizard best suits me’. I’ll trust my own sense of taste, thanks. Besides I don’t trust you lot not to rig the bloody thing.” Lily argued, shoving the offending magazine that Mary held in her outstretched hand away.  “It’s just a bit of fun Evans, what’s the harm?” Sirius teased.  “I don’t see you doing it Black.” “That’s because I already did mine while you were off swanning about the dungeons. How was Sluggy’s dinner party?” He asked.  Lily shrugged. “A bit like how I imagine sex with Potter, abrupt and unsatisfying.”  Her friends erupted into a roar of raucous laughter. Remus was wiping tears from his eyes as he looked at the jaw dropped look on James’ face.  “I’m going to get changed.” Lily smirked and made her way to the girl’s staircase.  “You guys heard her right? She’s imagined having sex with me!” James grinned.  “Mate… you clearly did not hear the rest of that sentence.”

[thebibutterflyao3]

Day Twelve - “I’ll remember.” @sapphicmicrofics

April Daily Series - 968 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Over the last two hours, Dorcas has glanced at the alarm clock on her bedside table at least a dozen times. She can’t relax enough to sleep and she can’t muster the energy to stay awake. Instead, she dozes off and on, then checks the time.

It’s an entirely unnecessary reflex. Even if her alarm clock didn’t go off, the other three alarms on her phone will blare in five minute increments afterwards. Dorcas is more concerned about disturbing her newest roommate with her ungodly early wake up.

So far, the first night was fine. Lily had to be assured twice that Dorcas didn’t mind her joining Pandora in their room. While she couldn’t say that she didn’t have some reservations about it, Lily had proven to be a considerate and helpful roommate already. She contained Pandora and kept her on this side of sane, plus she was fastidious to a fault.

Lily didn’t snore or smack her lips in her sleep like Pandora did, but Dorcas could sense her presence anyway. It was hard to explain, even to herself. The air felt different with three people breathing it.

I should make myself tea. I’ll remember to put white noise on tomorrow.

The thought of a warm, comforting cuppa propelled her upright. She wasn’t sleeping anyway and there was always casework to do. Perhaps she could catch up on it before work.

Dorcas padded all the way down the hall when a soft voice in the sitting room reminded her that they had a guest camped out there. An infuriatingly fit guest who had a habit of sleeping naked, if memory served. Which, of course it did.

She intentionally avoided looking in her direction, beelined for the kitchen, and closed the door behind her as quietly as possible. While the tea steeped, Dorcas collected her laptop from her bag and set up a little office area at the dining room table. Based on the sheer volume of emails she’d amassed this weekend, her entire day would be devoted to cleaning out her inbox.

Marlene’s voice drifted in through the door and triggered another memory: she occasionally talked in her sleep. It didn’t happen often when they lived together, usually when she was tipsy. She would roll over with her eyes closed and chatter about nonsensical things. Dorcas found it endearing back then.

“Hmm…is awfully cold,” Marlene muttered, pushing the kitchen door open.

Dorcas cast a fleeting glance at her to assure herself that her ex was not standing in her kitchen with her tits out. Thankfully, she had on athletic shorts and a sports bra. That was a compromise that she could accept.

“There’s a blanket on the back of the sofa.” Dorcas gestured vaguely at the door, but remained focused on her laptop. She wasn’t interested in encouraging conversation when she was half-asleep herself.

A long silence and lack of movement forced her to look up. Marlene stared blankly at the wall just inside the kitchen. She wavered a little from side to side, then gasped so suddenly it made Dorcas jump. “It’s blue! Why’s it blue?”

“What? It’s not blue. The wall is beige. The whole flat is beige,” Dorcas said, eyeing her quizzically. “Are you awake? Since when do you sleepwalk as well?”

“Fuck you very much!” Marlene shouted, flipping off the wall with both hands. “Maybe it’s your fault that it’s blue.”

“Seriously? Tell me this isn’t happening.” Dorcas closed her laptop and approached Marlene cautiously. “McKinnon?”

Marlene didn’t respond. She simply tilted her head to the side and frowned at the wall. It would have been comical to watch, if it weren’t the middle of the night.

Dorcas waved a hand in front of her face, then sighed. “Alright, back to the sofa with you.”

The moment she touched Marlene’s shoulder, the woman squealed, spun away, and bolted toward the door. A door that didn’t open out, only in. Dorcas flinched at the resulting crash and rushed forward to catch Marlene before she slumped to the floor. The wood vibrated against the doorframe in a rather vocal protest.

“For fuck’s sake, you’re bleeding,” she said, slowly lowering Marlene to the floor on her side. “Don’t move! Do you hear me?”

“What…the fuck?” Marlene closed her eyes and immediately reached for her face.

“I said, ‘don’t move.’”

Dorcas grabbed a handful of serviettes and swatted her hands away. She did her best to stop the bleeding, but she’d collided with the door nose first and it was definitely going to bruise. Dorcas wanted to scoop her up and cuddle her close, but she couldn’t. She had to maintain distance for her own sanity. The dazed and bewildered look on Marlene’s face wasn’t helping.

“What happened?” James and Regulus burst into the kitchen, half-dressed and half-panicked respectively.

“She happened,” Dorcas replied, gesturing at Marlene.

“Did you hit her?” Regulus asked, dropping to his knees beside her. “Bloody hell, that must have been quite a punch.”

Dorcas shoved him roughly. “No! She was sleepwalking and ran into the door.”

“Oh, Marls.” The exhaustion in James’s voice caught her attention. He rubbed a hand over his face, then leaned down to lift Regulus to his feet. “You, back to bed. Dorcas? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Great, go on back to whatever it is you were doing as well. I’ll handle the mess, and the blood.”

Dorcas handed him the serviettes and slowly stood upright. James shooed Regulus out of the kitchen and squatted down to speak in low tones to Marlene. She didn’t say much in response, but ducked her head when Dorcas stepped around her. Seeing her so vulnerable and lost pulled viciously at her heart strings.

Next Part>>>

[broomsticks]

wolfstar autumn(ish) fic rec list 🐾🍂

*: i tried but not quite

gorgeous bingo created by @moonwalker94 for hpfc!

1 - JUMPER - An Enigma Wrapped in a Jumper by @squidgilator (5k, G) - mwpp-era fluffity fluff, featuring my FAVORITE pining idiot sirius:

He was an inscrutable enigma, Remus was. An enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a puzzle wrapped in a jumper. "Not that much of a mystery," muttered Remus, and Sirius wondered how many of his last few thoughts he'd said aloud. "Just the bit about being an enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in a—something— wrapped in a jumper," said Remus, curiously. "Why?" "Er," said Sirius, and vowed to keep his thoughts inside his head from now on. "No reason."

bonus rec: The Sweater Bet by Deya (6k, T). silly (extended) marauders shenanigans: why is your boyfriend wearing a sweater at the beach and how do you get him to take it off??

-🍁-

2 - STORM - The Weather Inside by earlybloomingparentheses (43k, E)

The bright beam of sunshine that spilled into the compartment on the Hogwarts Express at the start of first year just as Sirius stepped through the sliding door (…) an accident of timing. The freak snowstorm the day after the Incident, when Remus was curled gut-punched on the floor of the Shrieking Shack (…) a trick of air currents and cold fronts. And now, Sirius at the window of his and James’ flat, the storm outside roaring and Sirius turned to face the rain lashing the pane, dressed in black and looking from this angle like a Sturm and Drang painting, all heroic isolation and inner turmoil—why think anything of it?

bonus rec: How to Suffer a Storm by gayagape (11.6k, T), lighthouse au from the 2016 r/s games.

-🍁-

3 - BIKE RIDE - This Is Not Your Year by montparnasse (17k, E). first war angst and pining, montparnasse - that’s it that’s the rec. so many quotes i wanted to pull.

“Holding onto your favorite bits?” “Remember there’s ice on the roads. Also we’re possibly being hunted.” “I’ll go slow.” “You’re so sweet,” said Remus, “always with all my extremities and orifices in mind.” On the seat he pressed very close to Sirius, hips first, the way he always did. “It’d be nice if someone around here ever thought of mine.”

bonus rec: There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by @wanderingbandurria (2.6k, T). a summer road trip (coughahem getaway car whomst?) leads to the Realization of Feelings.

-🍁-

4 - FIRESIDE CHATTER - Goetia by @biremus and @kember-writes (44k, T). regency au, monster/horror au, Not Your Everyday fireside chat 👀 (also, some incredible art!)

The red coals in the fireplace provided just enough illumination for Sirius to watch as Dorcas lifted the silver bell in her hand, and rang it once. “Lord of Hell, we call you forth.”

bonus rec: Your Little Head by @paulamcg (1k, G) for, appropriately, r/s fireside tales. such a fascinating outsider pov wolfstar. no fireside warmth to be found here 😈🔥

-🍁-

5 - BAKING - The Great Biscuit Calamity of 1978, and Other Such Disasters by @lunapwrites (8k, T). also hinny. post-second war, our favorite disasters being properly domestic.

"How did you even manage that, anyway? Like, I'm equal parts horrified and impressed, I am." "I was only trying to open the bag--" "With what? An Exploding Charm?"

bonus rec: A First Taste by LuminousGloom (3.8k, T) - a fluffy mwpp-era cooking at hogwarts!

-🍁-

6 - STAR GAZING - this ficlet for meee by @tahtahfornow, for the tumblr prompt game things you said under the stars and in the grass. your writing your writing 😍😍🥰🥰 (also thank you for putting this on ao3 and not making me have to ritually sacrifice something to tumblr search)

Damp grass scratches against the napes of their necks, presses into the backs of their Oxfords; the star-soaked night sky blankets them like a soft flannel. The moon is waning, a fat yellow grin pasted above them, and Remus thinks maybe, wildly, that for once it is not mocking him, that its smile is true, that tonight—just tonight—it is on his side.

bonus rec: star talking, atop the astronomy tower. The things that lurk in the dark by TheDivineComedian (4.7k, T). one of my absolute favorite mwpp era, incredible marauders characterizations and character-insights in a slice-of-life.

-🍁-

7 - HOT CHOCOLATE - Tight Spaces by @krethes (3.2k, T) - mwpp-era remus-trauma / remus’ werewolf childhood. lots of hurt but tons of lovely comfort after, and delightful marauders friendship.

Instead, he was jostled in a bone-crushing hug, sloshing hot-but-not-scalding cocoa on the blanket in the suddenness. Sirius buried his head into his shoulder and held him so tightly Remus thought he might snap in half. Remus's cheeks were wet and, embarrassed, he realized he was crying. He hadn't expected such a response from Sirius, who was usually joking or brooding, never something so gentle, so sincere.

bonus recs: naturally - Did You Miss Me? (600k, E) by @krethes and @fantismal, and Power the Dark Lord Knows Not (300k, E) by @fantismal and Jormandugr (nearly perfect chapter timing, too, hahaha)

-🍁-

8 - APPLE PICKING - As Red As Hearts And Autumn by Rosie_Rues (47k, G), mwpp sixth year. sooo i went a bit out-of-season with some of these recs, but this fic is as autumn as it gets —

“Excuse me,” Sirius says, too loudly. “Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me?” “The central refrain of Sirius Black’s life,” Remus murmurs and finds himself being tackled by a large, black dog, intent on washing his face. He struggles and yelps but none of the others, traitors all, come to his rescue. Sirius changes back but stays sitting on Remus, twisting round to say, “Your apples are useless.” Peter snorts and opens his mouth and a barrage of apple cores hits him before he can speak.

bonus rec: Flesh in the fruit by @girl-with-goats (2.3k, M). not apples but peaches, and not peaches but peaches 👀😏🍑

anyway happy spooky season 🍂🧡💛❤️🍁

[nightingaleglow]

@sapphicmarauding : june 2nd - venus

ship: marylene words: 648 tags: angst, unrequited love

The night sky was painted with thousands of twinkling stars, each one of them a glimmering, silent testament to the infinite wonders of the universe. 

Mary and Marlene, side by side, on a blanket under the enormous dark sky. Their gazes fixed upon the celestial canvas towering above them. 

Marlene took a deep breath, the air in her lungs filled with a sense of anticipation, as if the universe itself held its breath so that Marlene didn’t have to, waiting for something to slowly unfold. 

Something Marlene knew would never happen. 

Still, Marlene couldn’t help but steal another glance, and then one more, at Mary and the way her raven curls cascaded down her shoulders, like the waves of the ocean. It had become a routine, by now, Marlene figured.  

And yet. 

Yet her heart swelled with love so fierce it threatened to consume her entire being. 

Again, and again, and again. 

Mary, who’s so unaware of Marlene’s affections, and who gazes at the stars with a childlike, innocent fascination, oblivious to the turbulent emotions swirling through Marlene’s body, leaving her cold and then hot all over, a storm that never ceases to pass. 

“Look” Mary suddenly whispered, voice laced with wonder, “there’s Venus, the evening star. Isn’t she so bright and beautiful tonight? Doesn’t she remind you of Lily?” Mary asked, still so painfully unaware of Marlene, and so painfully fond of Lily. 

Marlene forced herself to tear her eyes away from Mary’s face, before she could read her emotions, and followed her gaze to the radiant planet up in the sky. 

She wished she could reach. 

Venus, the goddess of love, the celestial embodiment of passion and desire, Venus, oh so beautiful. A cruel coincidence it was, for Venus to remind Mary of Lily. Stirring an even deeper longing in her soul. For Venus to Marlene, was nothing more than a haunting reminder of her unrequited love. 

She reminds me of you. 

It didn’t matter, in the end. Her love for Mary was always meant to be an ethereal melody trapped within her, a box that could never be opened, a song that yearns to be sung but bound by the chains of love. A solitary tear welled up in Marlene’s eye, in a way mirroring the shimmering stars above. The night sky seemed to taunt her, to conspire against her so cruelly, amplifying her pain as if the universe itself wept for her love. 

Deep down Marlene knew love was not always destined to be reciprocated. It could be quiet and private at times, blooming in the shadows and nurtured by stolen glances and whispered dreams. That didn’t make it less beautiful, less honourable. 

It didn't make it less painful. 

A love so deep, so wild that it yearned to be free, however doomed to remain imprisoned, forever unspoken of.

Mary turned to Marlene, eyes shimmering with excitement and curiosity. 

“What are you thinking about, Marls?”

Marlene tried to smile, and not show her heart was breaking with every fibre of her being. 

“Oh..just the stars.”

Mary nodded as if in agreement, her gaze lingering on Marlene for a moment longer before returning to the sky. A moment Marlene didn't miss. The words Marlene so desperately wanted to speak remained lodged in her throat however, kept safe by her for a bit longer. Something only for her to know, only for Marlene to cherish. 

It was the only way she could bear it. 

In the vast expanse of the universe, Marlene's heart still squeezes in anguish sometimes, years later,  its silent plea echoing among the stars. The cosmos, indifferent to the human heart and all it desires, carried on over the years, unyielding and relentless. Mary and Marlene, their hearts always entangled in a cosmic dance of love, yet always destined to remain just out of reach. 

Marlene is dancing with Dorcas now.

[songofpolaris]

Fireflies fear too | J.P.

-> pairing; james potter x reader

-> warnings; death is a big topic, panic attack, angsty, comfort?

-> word count; 800+

-> a/n; hi angels, so a new fic. two fics within a week? who the fuck am i. no but this is kinda angsty nbewf idk what it is. it's supposed to be the day before Halloween in case you don't get that from the story so do with that info what you will. love you and i hope you enjoy this, please reblog if you do <3

It’s hard. It’s always been hard. Living, breathing, loving. There’s no peace to find in it yet. It’s all just running and jumping and hiding from god knows what. It’s all tears and hurt. 

But hiding is the hardest. The hiding from everything and everyone. 

You and James have been hiding together with your baby now for exactly 364 days. 

It started on Halloween, 1980. A pale, white skinned, snake-like man decided that you were his most important target. Or that your baby was. Some glass ball told him so and he went with it. The three of you being the victim of his hunger for power. For no reason other than those that came with a cloudy mist trapped in glass. Which got you here.

A stack of letters and a newspaper gets thrown onto the counter while you and Harry play peek-a-boo. His miniature broom is leaning against the couch and the living room isn’t as tidy as it used to be. You look up at James, leaning against the sink with crooked glasses on his nose.

“What is it?” You ask as you try to turn your attention back to Harry.

“It’s Dorcas.” 

You look at the letters laying in front of you, back and forth between the eyes of your husband and the stack of paper. His curls hanging almost over his eyes, barely making them visible.

The bar stool creaks as you turn around. You stand up and walk down the hall to the nursery, footsteps following closely behind you. Harry coos in your arms while you skillfully open the door to his small but cosy nursery.

The dark blue walls of the nursery show stars all around, like you’re walking through the night sky. An almost full moon beams above you. Dorcas enchanted the ceiling for you and James as Harry's first gift.

Carefully, you put Harry down in his crib and softly kiss him on the forehead. Your index finger moves to wipe away a drop you left there, seeming to have slipped from your eyes. 

“Y/n-” James’ soft voice sounds from the door.

“Shhh” You shush as you silently tuck Harry in and walk back so you won’t upset him.

When you close the door behind you and find yourself back in the hallway, the only light accompanying you and James is a flickering flame from the candle standing on the old dresser across from you.

James grabs your hand and touches your cheek with his other hand.

“She didn’t make it.” Is the only thing he says.

Tears sting in your eyes, a cloud forming in your stomach, a belt being tightened around your heart. You walk back to the kitchen, out through the back door. 

The cold hugs you, stings you. But the tears make it seem like nothing. Your vision is blurry, your breathing heavy. Nothing feels real anymore. It can’t be. 

It's not that you expected him not to say anything. You already knew the second he said her name. But the words cut deeper than the idea ever could. Your best friend, gone. Just like Marlene. Just like so many others you loved and cherished.

The back door gets shut behind you and delicate hands wrap around your shoulders. Carefully closing you in. You feel his heartbeat against your back.

“Breathe, love.” 

His hands find your heart and stay there. Carefully pressing down as James breathes loudly to get you to follow his doing. 

“4 in” He breathes in, “6 out.” A cold and loud breath of air leaves his mouth. You follow his example. Together, you breathe.

As you calm down, James guides you to the wooden bench sitting next to the pond filled with lilies and fireflies flying around it.

Rose bushes bless the garden with sweet scents even if it's already autumn, a pumpkin grins at you next to the fence. Fairy lights hang in the willow and make it possible to see the leaves move with the soft breeze in the air tonight.

“I just can’t” You breathe in again, “I can’t do this.”

As you look up at James sitting next to you, his glasses look foggy. His hair messier than before and his cheeks are puffy. But he still has the Potter smile gracing his face. It's faint, but it's there. His never ending positivity and happiness is something you'll always admire.

“But you can, baby. We can.” James says while tracing the line of your jaw and wiping away some tears hanging on the edge of your chin.

You shake your head “I don’t think I can.” 

“You can. We’ll get through this and once we do, we’ll buy a house in France with a quidditch field and everyone will live there.”

“Right, everyone.” You laugh now. Maybe the cold is starting to get to your brain, but it feels absurd. To say “everyone” now. Because there’s no “everyone” anymore. 

“What’s so funny?” James asks.

“Who is everyone?” You just answer. 

“Come on, y/n. We’ll be with the seven of us. Just the good old group, Mary, Alice and Frank. Where it started.”

“Right.” You shake your head.

You look away towards the lilies blooming on the troubled water. Fireflies greeting them, kissing them, fearing them, leaving them.

“I’ve got this crippling, paralyzing fear in me, you know?” You say while still studying the pink and orange colors in front of you.

“The fear of everything repeating, but also of never having the same thing. The fear of seeing the night sky some day and feeling completely different about it, but also the fear of always having the same exact thoughts of it.” A sigh leaves with your words as you look up.

“The fear of having to hide from life and everything that comes with it, but also the fear of living it.”

Soft lips graze your cheek as you turn back to the curly haired boy next to you. Wet tears stain your cheeks and drip down your jaw. 

“The fear of the darkness without any light, but also the fear of the light without any darkness.” You say as you move to straighten his glasses.

“I’m just scared,” you whisper "because what if this pain is never ending?"

“I know,” he whispers back “but my angel, we’ll survive in spite of that fear and come out shining like the brightest flame.”

He gives an affirming squeeze in your hand.

“We’ll be the ones that lived.”

[ashleigghh]

Day 2: Scarf- Dorlene, 713 words. Okay so I kinda went away from the prompt with this one but oh well

“Marlene, where are we even going?” Dorcas laughs as her girlfriend pulls her along the street, darting around everyone else, racing to some unknown location. It’s cold, and their breath is fogging up as they exhale, the tips of Dorcas’ ears are frozen and the hand that isn’t clasped with Marlene’s is numb from the freezing air. 

“Just trust me,” Marlene smiled back at her and she would follow her to the ends of the earth, Dorcas would do anything if it made Marlene happy.  

Christmas is right around the corner and the street is filled with Christmas stalls, handmade baubles and mince pies, knitted hats and mittens, steaming hot chocolate and fresh churros. It’s lit up, a large tree in the centre with strings of lights reaching down to attach to the top of the stalls. 

It’s beautiful, and Dorcas thinks this is where Marlene is taking her, but they simply slow down to walk through the crowds that surround them.

“Are we not stopping here?” Dorcas questions, looking around and trying to take everything in, it’s their first Christmas living here, they have never celebrated in this town before and Dorcas doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“We’ll come back, I have something better for us first.” She leans over and kisses Dorcas quickly, nearly walking into someone in the process. 

When they reach the end of the street, Marlene takes them left, down a road Dorcas has never been down before. It’s also lit up, with angles, trees and stars shaped in the twinkling white and blue. Dorcas turns her head up to look at them in awe, trusting Marlene to lead her and not let her fall. 

Her teeth start chattering and she drags her gaze away from the lights, tucking herself closer to Marlene’s side to try and warm them both. It’s in the minuses today and no amount of layers can keep them warm in the cold, biting wind.

“We’re nearly there, it’s right around the corner,” Marlene unravels her scarf slightly as she speaks and throws it around Dorcas’ shoulder, keeping them as close as possible. 

Less than 5 minutes later they turn a corner and Dorcas gasps. They’re standing in front of a building, a large sign reading ‘ice rink’ glowing blue above them. Through the glass, Dorcas can see the ice, couples and families gliding along, trying to stay upright in the unfamiliar setting.

“You remembered!” Dorcas exclaims excitedly, moving towards the glass to get a better look, the scarf Marlene had draped over her shoulder falling as she moved away. 

“Yeah, of course I did, how could I ever forget the way you lit up talking about it, you were so happy.”

Dorcas had loved ice skating as a kid, her mum had taken her every year until she was 10 and they had moved, and she’d never been able to go again. She had spoken about it, just once, one meaningless mention in a conversation years ago that she never would have expected Marlene to remember, hell she barely remembered. 

Marlene grabs her hand and leads her through the doors, it's still cold in here but the lack of wind makes Dorcas shiver as the warmth rushes through her body. This time it’s Dorcas dragging Marlene with her over to the wall of hire skates. 

Marlene pays no attention to where they’re going and lets Dorcas talk animatedly to the worker, simply staring at her wonderful girlfriend as if she’s the only thing in the world, nothing else matters but the joy on her face. 

“Come on! I want to get on the ice,” 

They step onto the ice, Dorcas tentatively sliding as she gets used to being back in skates. Quickly, she gains more confidence and lets go of the barrier, laughing with pure unfiltered joy, turning just in time to watch Marlene slip and hit the ice despite her grip on the barrier. 

“I don’t think I'm made for ice skating,” Marlene grins up, sat on the ice, looking around like she isn’t sure how to get back up. Dorcas offers her hand, pulling Marlene up to stand with her. 

“This is perfect, thank you.” Dorcas pulls on the ends of Marlene’s scarf, dragging her closer and kissing her softly.

[delicrieux]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 | endless drabble series (autumn edition)

pairing—james potter x reader genre—very light enemies to lovers in the span of 5 mins xx summary—someone comes to annoy you as you read your book on the pier word count—2.7k

author's note: i've been on james potter spiral. won't elaborate

masterlist. ☕. reqs are open!

there’s absolutely nothing romantic about the way james looks at you – gaping maw and all, glasses crooked on the bridge of his nose because he smacked his hand to the thin, wiry edge to lift them up and did it quickly and clumsily and for no reason – and if you assume otherwise, you’re an idiot. but you don’t assume otherwise, nor are you all the curious about the tangle of mush that could, perhaps, in a mind more evolved, be considered a thought. james can, you suppose, have decency, and he can, given the benefit of the doubt, appear thoughtful and tactful and, based on the information that came to dorcas in a dream, be serious about his affections. which he has none for you, just to be clear. in case the scene might paint otherwise.

what a curious sight it is on the rickety pier of the boathouse. the weather’s grown cold, near frosty, and the sky had long turned into something grey and woolen. the wind scratches at your ears, and at your lips, and james’ nose has gone red and so have his cheeks, and he looks ridiculous in his coat and burgundy sweater peeking underneath that you almost take pity on him. almost. though, if any of your friends inquired what was so ridiculous about him in that moment, you wouldn’t be able to form an answer that would appease them. james potter is simply too much – is that not fact? why should there be a trial to scrutinize your claim when the words are truth? yes, he’s ridiculous, and he’s stupid, and his hair is all a mess, and—

“i didn’t expect to find anyone here, to be honest,” he says after the long pause of nothing but glances and an understanding you haven’t figured out yet. when you’ll go to bed tonight and toss and turn, perhaps you’ll pick up the magnifying glass and recognize it as interest and be tremendously distressed and nauseous of that knowledge. now, you only worry for a heartbeat that’s just a tad too quick, “’s a bit odd, innit?”

“what?” your voice could’ve been like a whip in the air if only it wasn’t so hushed. pillowed by the cold that had frozen the strings of your syllables.

“you are.” he explains, a hint of teeth showing from his smile.

if you swung with all of your weight, perhaps he’d fall into the freezing waters beneath your feet and be so shocked that he would never resurface. no one would suspect you as culprit, since no one would see you escaping the boathouse, and you could, with great smugness, mourn with the rest when his disappearance is declared as demise. how positively villainous. he’s sitting close enough, you could try, but you know that, while a valiant attempt, he would grab you quicker than you could blink and drag you down to the depths laughing, like some deranged grindylow. a mirror-image in appearance, too.

“sod off,” you mumble, and seldom have you spoken words more genuine. you flip a page of an inconspicuous book borrowed from the forbidden section, intended to be returned, of course, once you had absorbed all it has to offer. not much, so far.

“there’s a library you can read in,” james says, scooting closer, because your personal space must be shared and perhaps he’s curious of the text that has commanded so much of your attention. he nudges your shoulder, and nudges it again when you don’t look up, “not sure you knew that.”

“was terrified you might find me too quick,” and there is some truth to that, but more so you were dissuaded by the idea of the librarian catching you. the book supposedly reveals archaic jinxes that went out of fashion – either too impractical or too dangerous – and the long-withstanding mythos about the book implies it discloses only when the shift in temperature is great. so you sit here, and freeze, and if you were honest enough you would tell him, and you would add that you like it here, even when cold, because it’s tranquil and the castle looks trapped in a snowglobe under the dome of the sky.

he snorts, “found you anyway.”

“have you nothing better to do?”

“not really. you upset?”

“hard not to be, around you.”

“flattered. and thankful. for, you know, the stature that comes with such an accomplishment—”

there you go, taking the bait and reeling in close. if your teeth chatter a bit as you speak, well, you were already blaming the chill, no? so let him think what he wants – a smirk tugging at his lips and eyes all lit up and giddy – and his face could warm you a bit. but then, it was your temper all aflame that might solve the problem entirely. and all you can think is, ridiculous.

perhaps his conversation isn't stimulating. perhaps the cold numbs your thoughts. or perhaps he is a pretty sight against this miserable, clouded backdrop, and so are you. a hand comes to the cover of the book, still flipped, and the skin brushing against the page is frigid to touch.

"you're freezing," he says, eyes trained on the book, and perhaps he really is talking to the cover. you wouldn't put it past him, "fancy warming up a bit? back inside, near the fire place in the common room. with company, for once. bet that'd be better."

"with your company, i take it?" you chime smartly.

"didn't i just say that?"

"hmm," is a reply given with a hum, and he only speaks again when his stare hasn't caused your skin to peel away.

"c'mon, then. there's nothing for you here but a bloody draft. come up now and we can steal butterbeers from the kitchen, if you'd like." there are an unnatural many suggestions, like he's grappling for a hook even when his expression shows nothing. he's usually less scattered than this, and he never considers your feelings in his very many attempts: 'come to the three broomsticks with me,' and you ask, 'why?' and he replies 'cuz i wanna drink.'

"no." you say.

"stubborn."

"willfully," and the emphasis is drawn out so maybe it sticks. you've dealt with him enough that his ramblings can hardly deter you, though, no matter how charming the prospect might sound, because you hate him. you've practiced saying these exact words in the mirror only to make them sound more potent. train your expression not to wobble, because no matter how unassuming james can appear at times, he strikes the moment he notices a slight hesitation.

he doesn't, because if he had, your hand wouldn't be clasping his so tight.

"fine," he nods his head, a huff of white cloud billowing from his mouth as he says so. his hand is equally as cold, like ice against your palm, but then his fingers wiggle a bit and lace through the empty spaces to properly intertwine.

"james?"

"they say sharing body heat is the quickest, y'know."

"unnecessary," you hiss.

"warm," is his only answer, and he inches closer so it's no wonder his face flushes like that. he's got his other arm around your shoulders, knee knocked with yours, "how long, you recon," he mutters, "before frostbite starts?"

"soon," you drawl, and if there's a small shiver running up your spine, then that's all the cold. nothing to do with the person beside you and how unabashed he is at his own closeness, and how warm he could be in this circumstance – when he was offered no objections, "if lucky."

a subtle lean in your direction, a nose buried in a scarf that smells faintly of cinnamon, is, at this rate, your ultimate surrender. how painful it is to do so, when pride swells like a bruise deep in your chest and the pain lingers. perhaps you can hide behind the flimsy veil of not caring and listen to the pace of his breath under your ear where his chin rests on your shoulder. if you were to look, you'd see a vague pout on his lips – chapped, but red, maybe even lovely.

"what are you reading, anyway?" he mumbles.

"history," is the quick and clipped answer. he doesn't deserve the details.

"not quite my subject. boring as all, i take it. does it at least mention me? history? dunno how anything goes without the noble house of potter contributions."

"noble? hardly," you state, "absolutely vain, though, obviously."

"begrudge me my blessings, but you love them," he chuckles and if you were feeling nice, you would say that it was warm enough that it chipped a tiny sliver of ice away. just a little. you settle for pinching his wrist, and are entertained to hear him wail a little.

he is the worst thing that's ever happened. the most tragic accident, and you just happen to have the most unfortunate timing. did he take a specialty class to master the art of pestering people? his eyes are big and hazel, and maybe it's because they are trained on that they seem a bit darker. absolutely repugnant. you'd rather die, and that is the truth. a death by looking. a tragic fate, a complete misfortune, an absolute bloody mess.

"you're blushing," he says, and if he had to bring it up, at least his voice is soft. no amusement, and he sounds just as fond as he is mystified, "thinking dirty thoughts? and on school grounds, no doubt. i am positively scandalized."

"piss off," the hiss is made venomous on purpose, and maybe you mean it. maybe.

"hope you aren't thinking too many about anyone else," this is the closest he has been to sounding thoughtful in any conversation, "that'd make me all sorts of bitter. wouldn't like that."

"of course you wouldn't, not when the possibility exists to bully me with the information," a huff, a quick exhale that clouds the air like his smile had before, and maybe he'd be charming, if only his intent wasn't as devious as it is.

"or i really just wouldn't like it," and how he dares to sound wounded with such a tender sentiment, and perhaps your insistence upon finding his ways less than humble could have come with a greater reluctance. as if you were dragged out of this, kicking and screaming. how utterly sickening his lips might taste, and your want has to be damned, so you don't look. and instead, his head comes to nuzzle on a shoulder with a knit scarf tickling his cheek, "wouldn't like it."

how utterly horrid.

there is no solution, really, and if you had looked, his eyes would've been heavy and his mind more so. it doesn't bother him, even if you are so silent – silent as stone – and his voice comes a bit thick, but he's smiling and he's always smiling like the imbecile he is. that you know he is. no one could fake the joy so pure that is beaming across his face. and what's worse, what is infinitely worse, is that he sees what must look like something far gentler in your expression.

"you're sweet," and if he is smug, you'd hardly noticed. a press of his lips at your temple, a warm chuckle against your neck, "and bloody adorable, too," because if there's anything that you couldn't handle right now, it's a heartfelt conversation. a damsel-worthy declaration, because, knowing him, he'd embarrass the both of you enough to melt a few inches of frost, and that just won't do.

"don't push it."

"or what? afraid you might lose the resolve to your no-nonsense-pretend-to-loathe-everyone act? and it was so brilliant, too."

"please stop talking," the whine could've been unbecoming if you weren't so desperate for him to silence himself, but, lucky you, "seriously."

"so hard not to when you are. how are you real?"

"questionable," you mumble, and this must be torture, except the prick hasn't pushed you, or grabbed you, or anything beyond holding your hand and wedging a cold nose into your scarf, "at the moment, i'm not entirely sure."

"miserable, aren't we? c'mon," and the only solution is to knock his head with yours, hard enough to make a noise that's audible over your hammering heart, and this time you give him the courtesy of seeing a brief flash of pain. and if you give him the curtsy of pressing your lips into his, well, he takes advantage of it and gets your hands. warm hands around cold, pale fingers, and a hum sounds into your throat and might vibrate all the way to the ends of your hair.

he's the bloody worst, isn't he? and somehow you're fated to know how terribly true the statement is.

"no, really, your hands are cold," he says softly, and the weather hasn't affected him. his words are sluggish and slow, like the pace of his palms on yours, rubbing and trying to warm them, and he might have a point, but he won't have the satisfaction of knowing that. the confirmation only came with another kiss, and how is that a deterrent? it really shouldn't be, "adorable, but i see frost on your fingers."

you roll your eyes, but for what it's worth, his kisses have an aftertaste of warmth, "my savior," your murmurs, and the irony is evident in how unamused the words are, "thanks."

"always at your beck and call."

"have i called?"

"many times," he presses a kiss to a wrist and another to your palm, and if his breathing warms the space between your hands then the problem's almost solved.

"in your dreams, perhaps."

"quite vividly," james has always had a glint to his eyes – an ambition, maybe, that shines brilliantly every time he's truly serious, but it's an intensity you had only seen a handful of times in him. so many wasted words, and how ridiculous he could be, how aggravating, and stupid, and wonderful, and in that instant, you think you could see stars, "but they don't last much."

"nice to know you've figured your issue."

"oh, hush." and the lips are on yours, and he smiles while doing so and you might melt away if only because the frost were forced into it. he doesn't open his mouth or let his hands do more than touch your cheek, your neck, with such gentility and no wonder your face grows warmer. it must glow in the evening air and you could be seen miles away, looking like an absolute prat, being adored so thoroughly. a long inhale before pulling away, but he rests his forehead against yours, "see? better, isn't it?"

"dreadful."

"sure, love." and it must be the first time the petname sounds endearing rather than mocking, or perhaps the frost in your limbs has really started to settle and the chill has worked into your bones, or perhaps his skin looks so bright under this awful dome and no one ever talks about the way his hair frames his face. maybe his voice has warmed you more than his hands. or perhaps he is softer and gentle with his affections and he isn't as mean as he claims to be or you insist. maybe, just maybe, you are secretly, obviously, terribly fond the brat and the starry eyed fool sitting next to you. more, or just as much, as he's fond with you.

"can we go back to the castle now?"

"no."

"cold out here," he reminds.

"so i've heard."

"i could help you with that, though."

"thought you already are."

"amazing," a new kiss, quick and chaste on a corner of your lips, "this has got to be a new record of no arguing. good. i can't believe, for once, that all it took was a kiss and some, like, a minute or three of talking, and i would've done it earlier, too. probably."

"don't think too much of it."

"i will. warm-up?"

"what?"

 "kiss me," is that impatience in his voice or the beginning of a tantrum? either way, when a something isn't instantly granted, it prompts a series of groans and complaints that surely rival the level of insufferability james has attained through the years. his head rolls onto your shoulder and you feel his voice against your neck. a hum, "you really, absolutely, one hundred percent have to."

 "i never signed up for such a deal."

 "you did. c'mere."

thank u for reading &lt;3