#which I am not looking forwars to dealing with...

[crookedtines]

Bought a lighter spindle (0.7oz vs the 1.7oz of my first spindle), spun some thread, and had to triple ply it to get it the same weight as what I'd spun before.

Triple ply is on the left side

Turns out there's a huge difference in texture between the triple plied stuff and the double ply. It's soooo smooth. Looks smooth, feels smooth, nicer in every way except how long it'll take to spin an equivalent amount.

Granted, the texture of the double ply is exaggerated by being overspun, but I don't think I could've spun that finely without the extra twist. (I was really pushing what I could do on that spindle.)

[endless-ineffabilities]

le marquis et le moineau

Marquis de Gramont x f!reader

themes: angst, twisted business associates(?) to lovers, dubious morals, the Marquis has his eyes set on you and only you (but you don't know that ofc)

a/n: this bloody Frenchman has been plaguing my thoughts (thanks to a very sinister portrayal by one Bill Skarsgård). Mind you, I still haven't even seen the film John Wick 4, but I'm a fan of the series, and the morsels I've seen of the Marquis have been more than enough to give rise to a new lil fixation.

word count: 932 ▪︎ more of moineau ▪︎ other works

It started as a little game.

Just some passing fancy between yourself and the Marquis.

Or at least, that was what it was supposed to remain. Only that. A game.

But you should have known better. You should have known that any game played with Marquis Vincent de Gramont may eventually turn deadly.

Your high-risk job at the Continental usually also reaped the highest of rewards.

Tip off the right person and receive a gold coin. Deliver a message, without any bumps or bruises to all parties involved, and your reputation would be given a much-needed boost or two.

This business was danger wrapped in deceit wrapped in glamour. And you knew how to deal the right cards.

Although it seems, things are not as easy when it comes to the Marquis.

Vincent was every bit a menace as his reputation decreed. The Marquis tasked with restoring the authority of the High Table, he was nothing short of cunning and ambitious, prepared to take down any and all those who posed a threat to his objectives.

Dangerous. Deceptive. Glamourous as well, mind you. He was perfectly suited to this world.

He was also brazen, pretentious, snobbish.

And beautiful.

He knew just how to tug at your strings and make you bend. Or at least, he always tried to.

Like he was doing then, in one of the bigger rooms in his palacial estate, wherein only the two of you stood with only a few feet in between.

"What did we agree upon, mon moineau?" His silky accented voice implored.

My sparrow, he called you. The reason for which remained undisclosed to you, not for a lack of trying to wrench it out of him.

Why couldn't he call you something sweeter? Of the more classic French romantic sobriquets?

Chérie, perhaps. Mon amour. Mon coeur.

But no. You were stuck with measly ol' "my sparrow".

Of course, not that it mattered. Perhaps the Marquis reserved his sweeter words for those he actually cared for. At the very least, well-regarded enough to be associated with. Those impossibly beautiful and refined members of European aristocracy that he was so often rumoured to be wining and dining.

Unlike you. Renegade, foul-mouthed vagabond.

You stared up at his pacing figure. "I am fully aware of what we agreed upon, Vincent. What I have done does not breach that. I am perfectly capable - "

His head snapped to you menacingly. "You could have been killed, moineau."

You shrugged. "Consequences. I did not enter this damned line of work without considering the risks. As it goes, getting killed would not exactly be an uncommon occurence."

"Don't jest." He shut his eyes, and pinched the bridge of his nose, in obvious annoyance.

You took a step forward, trying to find his gaze. "And if I were to... pass... so what? Everything would simply go on. The truth is that I'm already a ghost. Doing what I do in our world makes me some kind of spectre. I am already not there."

You knew this. You repeated this to yourself when you woke, and before you went to sleep. It was the only truth you could hold on to.

Until him. Until some buried, twisted part of you began hoping that he would care.

But hope is a dangerous thing.

You continued, as he kept looking away. "You would go on. Perhaps even find a new sparrow to play with."

You felt it. As your words hung in the air, his entire mood shifted. He straightened, and with both hands burrowed in the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers, his eyes land on you.

He slowly took a step forward, and then another, until his figure loomed over you.

In all your shared moments, you learned to discern the quick switches in his temper and his expression. But not enough, not completely.

The look he was giving you then was impossible to read.

"You think..." His left hand drifted to the hem of your blazer, toying with it. "... that I..." His index finger then drifted upward over your silk shirt, stopping in between your collarbones. His tongue briefly darted out to wet his lips, catching your eye. "... would simply replace you?"

You finally felt his touch on your face, his fingers delicately caressing your jawline.

He made a fleeting tsk tsk sound with his tongue, as if in disapproval.

"I believe you underestimate just how much you matter to me, mon moineau."

You did your best to remain unfazed. This was the game, wasn't it? Whatever you might think it can become, what you hope it can unravel into - set it aside as delusion.

Don't fall.

It's just a game to play.

Don't fall.

You took a deep breath, then smiled sweetly. Mockingly. "What makes you think I would even pay any mind to how much I matter to you? That line of thinking doesn't work for people like us, Marquis."

"People like us," he repeated, amusement furrowing his brow. "Non, mon moineau. There are no other people like us."

He leaned in, eyes not leaving yours, all but eliminating the distance between your faces. You could feel his breath on your skin, could count the faint spotting of freckles around his nose.

You wished to ask him what he wanted, but held back.

No. There was something better to say.

"What are you waiting for?" You managed to voice the words despite your very heart lodged in your throat.

He smiled, proud of his precious sparrow.

"Mon coeur... I've been waiting for you my entire life."

Ahhh! �� Everybody say thank you Bill Skarsgård and the on-set stylist for the visual treat that is the Marquis.

I'm not even sure if this will find the right crowd - seeing as my lovely followers are of the HotD persuasion. But oh well, I had to get it out of my system.

Could be more of this... idk 🤷‍♀️ Rest assured I haven't forgetten about all my series works, even the ones I haven't started but said I would do...

[sunsetmists]

Can you do a scenario where satan and mc get sucked into a book together? pls and thank u

You had been several chapters into your reading of the Princess Bride when Satan flicked that fate-stained page, and let something wicked loose. The air had left your lungs as the room crumbled all around you. A vortex of wind, and sea-salt swept breezes poured outward from the ink which marred the page, and it took hold of you both, and dragged you within. The first thing you hear is laughter. Your eyelids give way to a vast darkness; stars flickering far more brightly in the sky than they ever had before. They were uncountable, only a milky whorl of light. Crinkling your nose, the scent of burning wood, and embers flood your senses. Twisting where you lay, you can make out three figures. One, which was the source of the hearty laughter was far larger than the other two. Another held curls which waterfalled down their back, and the last was impossibly small. As you try to push yourself onto your feet, you discover that your hands have been bound behind your back. Though you struggle against the bonds, they do not give. "What is this?" you shout, voice raising over the embers. The three figures turn towards you, and the smallest speaks: "Now, now, save your energy, sweetheart." he sneered. Squinting, you can just barely make out their faces for the first time. The largest seems almost hauntingly familiar to you, and without thinking, you ask: "Fezzik?" the enormous man tilts his head to one side, but it is the smallest which speaks again: "That oaf isn't going to help you." he remarked, with a laugh. If that was Fezzik, then... All of a sudden, a voice calls out through the darkness: "Avast ye' fiends!" through the film of embers, and smoke, you can make out a figure dressed in all black, with a mask obscuring his features. “What is all this now?” the man with the waterfall hair, Inigo, asked- his hand moving to the handle of his blade. From where he was standing atop a rock, the man in black announced: “I believe you foul men have something that doesn’t belong to you.” the edges of his lips turned up into a smile. “And I- the Dread Pirate Roberts have come to reclaim it!” his smile grew ever wider, and under his breath he muttered: “I’ve always wanted to do that.” the small man, Vizzini, shook his head, and then barked an order: “Deal with him.” to which Inigo rose from his place atop a log, unsheathing his weapon as he approached the man in black. As the pair shared words, and their blades began to sing against one another, you struggled against your binds- shifting over the sand until Fezzik thundered over, and lifted you up into his big, calloused hands. “Up we go.” he murmured, carrying you as one would carry a princess. Struggling within his grip, you raised yourself up over one shoulder, and looked back on the ongoing fight. From between crossed blades, the man in black met yours eyes with his own, which were a startling green: “Don’t worry.” he called, lips turned up one side of his face in a half-smile: “I’ll come for you!” it was as you looked into his eyes that your own widened. “Satan?” you screamed, digging your nails into the giant’s back as you tried to wrangle yourself free from his grasp.  Only, it was all in vain, and the clashing swordsmen slowly faded out of sight. The night was drawing long, now, and you could see the sun cresting just over the horizon- gentle rays clearing what appeared to be the top of a mountainside. It was nearly an hour later before you saw a shadowy figure trailing just paces behind you. You parted your lips to speak when Satan beat you to it: “You haven’t gotten rid of me yet!” a hand on one hip, he beamed from ear to ear. The giant, Fezzik, slowly turned to face the man in black: “You haven’t given up yet.” he remarked, and Satan shook his head: “How could I give up when you have the most irreplaceable person in all the realms?” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Something seemed to shift in Fezzik’s demeanor as he regarded the man in black, and slowly, he placed you down onto the ground. You had begun to hurry towards Satan when small hand made its way around your waist: “Now, now, you aren’t going anywhere.” Vizzini smile, leading you away from the pair. As you looked backward, you caught sight of Fezzik slamming his meaty fist down onto Satan’s shoulder, and a horrendous crack sounded throughout the mountaintop. Instinctively, you gasped, but as Satan rolled to one side, clutching his arm, you heard him say: “You should really know better than to cross a pirate.” You didn’t have the chance to see what happened next because Vizzini had begun to pull you down the slope of a hill where it bottomed out into a valley. Wildflowers sprouted up from deep within the dirt, and with one, solid push, Vizzini threw you to the ground. You coughed as a rock hit the center of your chest, dust rising on the air in front of you as the small man began to tighten your bindings. With another motion, he laced a swath of fabric over your mouth, preventing you from opening it. The sun had risen higher, now. Nearby, you could see Vizzini rummaging within a bag. A moment later, before you could even grasp a hold of your surroundings, Satan began to barrel down the slope. “It’s time to give it up.” he called, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he caught his breath- sword in the devil’s grip as he approached. Vizzini paused his rummaging to raise both of his hands: “I am no threat to you, that much is obvious.” he began, and Satan raised an eyebrow. “Still, I can’t just let you take them.” the little man continued, gesturing with one raised hand towards where you lay. “So what do you intend to do?” the man in black asked, holding the blade towards Vizzini. This is when the small man lowered his hands, slowly, and pulled a pair of goblets out of his bag. Placing them down upon a flattened stone, he then retrieved a cask of wine. “I propose a game.” he began, pouring a bit of wine into each goblet. Slowly, Satan lowered his sword, and slid it into its sheath. “Within this locket is a sachet of iocane powder, one of the most deadly poisons known to man.” Vizzini tugged at a locket around his neck, and threw it towards the man in black. “You may poison the goblet of your choosing, and then present each to yourself, and I. I will have my choice of one, and you will drink the other. Whoever drinks the poisoned wine loses. Simple enough for you?” the little man raised an eyebrow, a smug smile upon his lips. Protest died on your lips as you squirmed beneath your bindings, and briefly, Satan flicked his gaze to you. Even through that slash of black fabric, you could make out his striking emerald eyes. After a moment of contemplation, Satan returned his gaze to Vizzini: “Very well.” the smile on the short man’s lips grew wider. Taking both goblets in hand, the Devil took them around to his back, certain Vizzini could not see them there, and then deposited the poison. You only wish you could have seen which goblet he had dropped it into. The goblets returned to their places, Vizzini placed both hands on his knees, and regarded Satan’s shrouded face. A moment passed, and then the little man began to speak: “All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet, or his enemy’s? Now-” the words died before they left his lips. Blood bubbled up from the pit of Vizzini’s stomach, the length of a thin blade disappearing into fabric, and flesh as Satan twisted it in his gut. The little man’s eyes widened, for a moment, and his hands desperately clutched at the wound, but it was already too late. “You see, much as I find the prospect of this little game charming, I can’t overlook what you’ve done to my precious cargo.” Satan reached for a goblet, bringing the edge to his lips as he let the tart swill drift down his throat. As he swallowed, he continued: “In fact, it’s made me quite angry.” the words dripped from his lips with a venom that set your skin afire. The devil rose to his feet, dropping the locket and the empty sachet of iocane powder down onto the stone slab. Resting a foot atop Vizzini’s hip, Satan looked down at him with unfeeling eyes, tilting his head to one side. “But don’t think that you would have won with wit, either.” he breathed, wrapping his hand around the handle of his sword. Satan leaned downward, a smile creeping up his lips: “I poisoned both goblets.” he murmured, just before wrenching the sword out of its resting place in Vizzini’s gut. With one, smooth motion, he slid the sword back into its sheath, and for the first time since before the game began, turned his gaze onto you. The corners of Satan’s eyes widened, for a moment, before softening. “A built up immunity to iocane powder does wonders for a man, don’t you think?” he murmured, helping you to your feet before unwinding the knot of the gag at the back of your head. The second you could breathe freely again, you asked: “Did you really have to let it go on for so long?” and Satan only half-laughed, a hand on your cheek as he peered down at you through his mask. “Careful, now, I have half the mind to leave you in your shackles.” he remarked, tugging gently on the rope which bound your hands together. You looked up at the devil with defiant eyes, stumbling a bit forward as he tugged. “I’m only joking.” Satan insisted, working at the knotted mess with careful fingers. In a moment, it gave way, and your wrists were once again free. Only, the second you taste freedom, the sounds of trumpets going off in the distance becomes audible. “What is that?” you ask Satan, jerking your gaze towards a small company of horsemen, galloping down the hill. Following your gaze, Satan sighs: “That’s Prince Humperdink, your would-be husband.” he offered, grabbing a hold of your wrist. “You’re joking.” you reply with an incredulous expression, but the rush with which he hurries you forward, towards the wood, affirms his seriousness. “Where are we going?” you ask, casting a glance backward as the group grows closer. “The Fire Swamps.” Satan replied, leading the way through shrubbery, and foliage. Thorns dug their way into the fabric of your clothes, tearing at your cheek, though the devil took the brunt of it all- his arm out in front of him to deflect the branches. Only, as you neared what you thought was a clearing, Satan came to an abrupt stop. Catching yourself on his arm, you peer down to find that the forest floor breaks off into a deep ravine. “What are we-” you began, but Satan broke your chain of words: “You need to push me.” he explained. “Push you? What are you--” the sounds of footsteps in the distance grow louder, but it is the abruptness of Satan’s lips upon yours that silences your voice. Your eyes grow wide at the edges, and his gentle hand lifts your chin. The feeling of his lips against yours is faint, and feverish; flush with the breathy heat of the chase as they melt against you. Instinctively, you move to push him off of you- your hands colliding with his chest as his feet push off of the edge of the cliff, and the ground disappears beneath him. “Not now-” you begin, only to realize what you have done. Branches catch and snare on Satan’s clothes as he tumbles down the slope of the ravine, and from within its belly, he calls: “As you wish.” his voice echoes throughout the ravine, and guilt brewing in your chest, you slip down the edge just the same, and begin the descent. The world collapses around you; twigs, dirt, and rock all fading into one violent blur which batters you over, and over again. When you reach the bottom, the air is knocked clean out of your lungs, but the ground beneath you feels oddly soft. A groan sounds just beneath your chest, and pushing up, you realize you’ve landed atop the fool who first got you into this mess. “You’re really an idiot, you know.” you remark, and Satan lets out a pained laugh. “Of all the things people have ever thought of me- idiot was never one of them.” he murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. In that instant, the unruly spell which had bound the both of you to the pages of that book unwound itself, and your surroundings melted away.

[jrpneblog]

Terriers Browned off as Alan seals the deal for North End

North End came back in the second half of this game to record another excellent away win at the John Smiths Stadium. This was North End`s first win away at Huddersfield since 1992 so you could say this win was more than overdue. A shaky start saw North End go a goal down but the boys managed to get into their stride and at the interval it was obvious that this game was far from over. After the break North End once again came out with their second half head on and in just eight minutes had turned a one goal deficit into a one goal lead. Two goals in three minutes by Captain Fantastic, Alan Browne, saw North End take the lead and put the home side right on the back foot. It should have been a few more with several good chances going begging and Jacobsen hitting the bar late on but North End had to see it out under some pressure from ten man Huddersfield and finally got over the line to bring all three points back to Lancashire

Alex Neil kept the same eleven that did the business at Loftus Road on Wednesday evening with Bayliss coming in for Gally on the bench to allow Paul to take up assistant duties on the touchline in the absence of Frank McAvoy. The game started at a breakneck pace and unfortunately it was the Terriers who took the game to North End right from the off. We seemed to be struggling, initially, with sorting out our 3-4-3 formation and the game was only eight minutes old when the home side took the lead. Campbell was put through and with Bauer beaten, Hughes failed to get a strong enough tackle in and Campbell slotted home past the hesitating Declan Rudd. After the goal North End started to get back into the game and had a really good fifteen minutes or so. Brad Potts had two long range efforts that went close for North End but just before the interval he could have been red carded for a poor tackle on Campbell. The referee gave him the benefit of the doubt and showed a yellow as North End headed for the dressing room looking to put things right in the second half.

No changes for Alex Neil at half time as we had seemed quite settled going into the break and it wasn`t long before we had the Terriers on the ropes. Six minutes after the break the ball found Alan Browne in the inside left position and the North End Captain struck a sweet shot that the Town keeper could only help into the net. Far from sitting back North End powered forwared and not much more than two minutes later we were in the lead when Browne, again, hooked the ball into the net this time from the right hand side as Preston moved into overdrive. A penalty shout on Potts came and went and Jacobsen had a great chance with just over twenty minutes to go but fluffed his lines. Hudderfield went down to ten with eleven minutes to go as Sarr was sent off for a professional foul. The home side threw everything at it late on although Jacobsen hit the bar at the end which really would have sewn the game up for North End. It mattered not as the final whistle blew after seven additional minutes and North End had done it again on the road against a very in form team.

So a great week for North End with six points on the road after two excellent wins at QPR and Huddersfield. I thought this was a better win than Wednesday evening if I am being honest as Huddersfield posed a significant threat and had several players that had played in the Premiership for them. It didn`t matter to our lads though as that tough workmanlike attitude and pace on the break once again shone through after conceding a poor goal early on. There were several candidates for the man of the match but Alan Browne gets its for me for the two goals and his superb workrate. Johnson, Potts and Ledson all worked their socks off in the centre of the Park and I think once Emir Jacobsen gets on the scoresheet then this lad will go from strength to strength. We really must build on this great week as Millwall and Birmingham come to Deepdale in the next seven days becaus a good ponts haul from those two fixtures and everyone will be feeling much more comfortable.

HUDDERSFIELD TOWN 1-2 PRESTON

RUDD 6

HUGHES 7 BAUER 7 STOREY 7

BROWNE 9 LEDSON 8 JOHNSON 8 RAFFERTY 7

SINCLAIR 7 JACOBSEN 8 POTTS 8

Subs:-

BARKHUIZEN 6

MAGUIRE 6 

HARROP 6

MOTM: Alan Browne

[sky-full-of-imagines]

Vive la France (Remus Lupin x Reader)

So how about a reader who's been friends with Moony when they were little children, but who then got separated because he went to Hogwarts and she - to Beauxbatons. And then somewhere around the fifth year she transfers to Hogwarts, and Remus realizes he has a thing for her but he doesn't show. So then the Marauders start to hit on her deliberately in order to make Remus jealous and get him to tell her about with feelings? Lots of fluff, maybe? Thank you so much in advance! You are so talented it's inhuman!

I love love loved this request!! I tried to write a French accent so I hope I did an okay job, I took French for six years so I hope my phrases are accurate!

French translations:

Vivante: lively

Amis: friends

Mes amis: my friends

Oui: yes

Ma chère: my dear

Tais-toi: be quiet/shut up.

Maman et papa: mommy and daddy.

Y/Nm: your nickname

You adjusted your black robes for what seemed to be the hundredth time, missing the blue of your former uniform. Your mother sent you a comforting look as she waved one last time before you were being directed towards the Headmaster’s office where you would be sorted into your Hogwarts house. You were a transfer student from Beauxbatons, only a month into the school term so you still had time to catch up in your lessons. Your father had landed a much better job in London, much closer to Hogwarts so it was decided that it might do your family some good to turn a new leaf. You nervously sat in front of Dumbledore and another professor, McGonagall if you recalled correctly.

“Don’t be nervous dear, now, the sorting hat will determine which house you belong in, then we’ll have one of the Prefects from that house come and escort you to your lessons and give you a tour of the school.” He said kindly as you politely nodded. Ever since your parents told you that you would be switching schools, you promptly wrote to your best friend, Remus Lupin; you two grew up together but then once you moved to France you didn’t see each other as often, but you wrote to each other every week and tried to at least visit him once every year. You remembered how nervous he was when he told you about his condition, but you didn’t care that he was a werewolf, he was still your sweet best friend, you were more worried about his well-being, remembering how the full moons took a toll on him and you hoped that they were easier to deal with now that he was older. Remus attended Hogwarts, and you were bursting with excitement at the prospect of going to school with him. Your nerves seemed to have betrayed you because you were drawing a blank at which house he belonged to…what if you were placed in a different house...

You were knocked out of your thoughts when Dumbledore placed the hat gently on top of your hair.

“Hmm…a cunning mind…yes very cunning indeed, but extremely witty and creative as well. We certainly can’t box you in a house with just one of those traits…yes, you’ll do good in Gryffindor, I can see great bravery in you, not afraid of the unknown.” Said the hat after a couple of minutes. You saw the witch next to Dumbledore smile.

“Well Miss L/N, looks like you’re in my house. I’ll go find my Prefect and he’ll be your guide for the day. I’m sure you’ll make Gryffindor proud.” Professor McGonagall said, and with that she left the office. After a few minutes she came back, next to her was the familiar face of your favorite, chocolate lover, lanky best friend.

“REMUS!” you exclaimed before hugging him. He chuckled in response, hugging you back.

“I’m glad you got sorted into Gryffindor Y/Nm.” He said fondly.

“Mr. Lupin, today you are in charge of showing Miss L/N around, make her feel welcomed but I’m sure the latter won’t be a problem.” Dumbledore said, shooting McGonagall a knowing smile. Remus nodded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink while you blushed slightly next to him.

You both exited the headmaster’s office, walking in a comfortable silence.

“Let me guess, you completely forgot each house and were slightly panicking while the hat ominously whispered in your ear?” he said, a goofy smile making its way on his face.

“Oh shut up…but yes, I did. But hey! At leas’ we are in zhe same house!” you responded, shoving him slightly to the side, as he chuckled.

“Well, as you can see the castle is big, not as big as Beauxbatons but still quite impressive.”

“My friends back at Beauxbatons would kill me, but I am starting to like Hogwarts a lot more.” you said softly as you looked around the castle walls, taking in the moving portraits and the low candlelight that adorned the archways.

“I wouldn’t say so just yet, our resident dead prankster, Peeves, will have you singing a different tune I’m sure.” He said as he led you up a long staircase, warning you of a loose floorboard.

“Speaking of prankster… didn’t you mention how your best friends were big on pranks? What did you call yourselves… ah yes, zhe explorerz?” you teased.

“Very funny, and it’s marauders.” He said with a good natured eye roll.

“Explorerzs, marauderzs, same thing. Either way, I’m looking forwar’ to meeting your amis!” you said cheerfully.

“Hope they don’t scare you off, love.” He added as he led you towards the dining hall.

“There’s about ten minutes until lunch, figured we could come a bit earlier. The tables are divided by each house: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.” He explained as he pointed to the four long tables, each already set with countless of silverware, plates and goblets.  You both made your way to the Gryffindor table and soon enough the great hall was filling up with students, all eager to eat and relax before their afternoon lessons.

You were too caught up in your thoughts, and people watching, that you didn’t notice the three boys that came to sit down next to you and Remus.

“Should we poke her?”

“Yeah, let’s poke the new cute girl Prongs, it’ll be real smooth.”

“Shut up, Pads, it’s not like you’re coming up with any good ideas.”

“Will you two stop ogling my best friend?” Remus snapped, glaring at the two boys. Sirius and James got quiet for a few seconds but then their eyes lit up with understanding, a smirk making its way on each of their faces. Remus waved them off and turned to you, tapping your shoulder softly and bringing you back to reality.

“Y/N, these are my friends, Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew.” He said pointing to each of them. They each waved but Sirius and James were on a mission to get a reaction out of Remus so they each pulled out their charm, much to Remus’s displeasure.

“Pleasure to meet you, and might I add just how fortunate we are to have you here. Our very own beauty, our treasure. We shall admire and guard you, I’ll alerts the knights.”

“That’s right, Sirius.” James said, doing an elaborate bow as Remus rolled his eyes.

“Well Remus wasn’t kidding when he said you were a bit vivante.” You said chuckling slightly. At hearing your accent Sirius and James smirked even more, shooting a fleeting look towards Remus who was glaring at them, if looks could kill…

“Is that a French accent I hear?” Sirius asked.

“Oui, I’m a transferred student from ze magic school in France, Beauxbatons. Did Remus not tell you?” you answered, smiling as you saw how your goblet refilled itself.

“No, he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t even tell us you were coming today.” James said.

“Remus would love for her to come, isn’t that right Moony?” Sirius added with a sly smile.

“For Merlin’s sake, both of you shut up...” Remus grumbled; he was quite thankful that you didn’t catch the double meaning behind Sirius’s words seeing as how you were busy deciding which pastry to choose from.

Lunch went on, the boys kept asking you questions about Beauxbatons and how it was different from Hogwarts, but before you could keep on talking about it, the bell rang signaling the end of the lunch hour.

“Come on, Y/Nm, we have Potions next.” Remus said kindly as he picked up your bag for you.

“Fear not Moony, we can escort Y/N! Think of us as her handsome bodyguards.” Sirius offered. Before Remus could object you spoke up.

“It’s okay, I love to ‘ear the fun facts Remus has about the castle! Besides I missed ‘im very much.” You said as took his arm and led him towards the exit.

“Well, I think we got our job cut out for us. Y/N is definitely into our dear Moony, and is not shy about showing it, but Moony is a bit more on the shy side of the looove spectrum.” James pondered out loud.

“You’re right, I think operation Vive la France is a go.” Sirius concluding, earning an approving nod from James as Peter merely watched, shaking his head at his meddling best friends.

 As the weeks went by you began to feel at home at Hogwarts, you wrote to your friends weekly, and your parents were very happy with how well you were adjusting. Remus was over the moon by how you were settling in and he was extremely fond of your study dates, although you had never called them that, but he liked to think of them as dates. Little did he know you felt the same way.

“Oi! Y/N! Where are you headed? We’re going to the lake before dinner, we want to lure out Ollie out.” Sirius called out as he ran to catch up with you in the hallway.

“Ollie? Did you name ze giant squid Ollie.”

“Yes we did. He’s a Virgo, extremely picky when it comes to snacks…” James trailed off.

“Sorry mes amis, but I’m meeting Remus at the library, he’s been helping me with my Eenglish and I don’t want to be late.” you said as politely, smiling to yourself by the mere fact of seeing Remus.

“Oh really? We’ll join you!” Sirius said brightly, bursting with excitement at the thought of his and James’s plan finally going into play.

You three made your way to the library, James and Sirius whispering to themselves and eyeing you suspiciously every so often. You simply brushed it off, thinking that they were simply plotting their next “super-secret” prank. After a few minutes of walking next to the whispering duo, you all made it to the library, you guided them towards yours and Remus’s spot, near the back of the library where there was a fireplace that Remus would light during each of your study sessions knowing how cold you got.

“Bonjour, Remus! I found our friends while I was on my way ‘ere. They insisted on joining us.” You greeted him and explained why the two marauders were with you.

“Hello Y/N, James, Sirius. I’m sure these two were probably incredibly annoying and for that I apologize.” Remus chuckled.

“No more annoying zan usual.” You replied, laughing softly.

Soon you both set to work and after a few minutes James coughed three times, signaling Sirius to put their plan into action, Sirius nodded and so it began.

“Say, ma chère, you look lovelier than ever. Even the reddest rose shrivels in comparison to your beauty.” Sirius said casually, leaning into your side, taking a hold of your hand. At his actions Remus’ eyebrows shot up, almost dropping the quill he was writing with.

“Zank you, but you should really go back to your essay if you want to finish it.” you answered politely. Remus visibly relaxed by how you brushed Sirius’ charm off. Another half an hour passed, Remus was in the middle of correcting your essay, checking for spelling and grammar mistakes while the two boys were doodling on the corner of their parchments. All was peace and quiet until James broke the silence.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Yes, James?”

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” he asked with a growing smirk. Out of the corner of his eye he saw how Remus stopped reading your Transfiguration essay and was looking intently at the two of you.

“No, I don’t zhink so.”

“Well, then I think we should go to Hogsmeade together, we can go to Madam Puddifoot’s.” he continued smoothly.

“’ow kind of you, but I will have to say no, maybe you could take Lily.” You said politely, going back to your current essay, not noticing how Remus was glaring at James with such an intensity that if looks could kill the poor boy would’ve been history. A few minutes went by and you excused yourself as you went to look for a book to finish your essay. As soon as you walked away Remus turned to his two friends.

“Care to explain what in the bloody hell was that all about?” he asked seething.

“Whatever do you mean, Moony?” Sirius asked coyly, as James snickered next to him.

“The flirting! With Y/N! and the asking her out!” he whispered-shouted, not wanting Madam Pince to come and yell at them.

“Moony, do you care if we flirt with Y/N? I mean you have said countless of times that she’s just a friend…”

“Oh sod off, James.” He muttered as he went back to editing your essay, not daring to make eye contact with his friends. You were coming back, but before you could make your presence known Sirius made a stopping motion with his hand as well as bringing his pointer finger his lips, signaling you to keep quiet. You were standing behind Remus, confused at to what was going on.

“Well, well, well, Sirius, I think Remus likes Y/N.”

“Hmm you might be right, Prongs.”

“So what if I do, now can you two shut up before she comes back…”

“Ha! We knew it! Just tell her how you feel, she’s obviously into you.” James shrugged as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“No she’s not. She’s this great, incredibly pretty, charming, funny girl, and I’m just a dorky werewolf.” He said defeated, not noticing that you have been standing behind him for the last few minutes, hearing the whole conversation. You cleared your throat, making your presence known, Remus dropped his quill as his eyes widened comically.

“I zhink you are wrong. You are so much more zhan zat and I like you, a lot. So how about we steal James’s idea and go to Hogsmeade together?” you said, blushing by your confession. Remus starred at you, wide-eyed as Sirius and James eagerly watched your exchange from the sidelines.

“I would love that.” Remus said after ten long seconds. You smiled brightly. The two of you went back to work, brushing into each other’s hands and arms more than usual or necessary. The quiet atmosphere was soon interrupted by Sirius’s stomach growling, signaling you all that it must be almost time for dinner. You all packed your belongings, Remus taking hold of your bag and hand, and made your way to the dining hall.

“So does this mean we get to call you both mom and dad?” Sirius asked as you kissed Remus on the cheek once he set your bag down and sat next to you.

“Sirius, for the love of Merlin…” Remus started.

“Tais-toi.” You finished.

“Okay fine, maman et papa…” he said smirking which earned him a slap on the back of his head by Remus. James spit out his pumpkin juice due to how much he was laughing.

“If you don’t stop laughing, I’ll hit you next.”