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they’re best friends your honor!!!!

james potter (left) and sirius black (right)

i do genuinely love their friendship and the way people write their dynamic.

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James and Lily.

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the marauders (my version)

new fave fancasts 🤭

dominic sessa / remus lupin

woo do hwan / sirius black

jamie flatters / james potter

cooper hoffman / peter pettigrew

to me they make sense… sirius really gives me regal and center of the room vibes and no one else was giving that until i saw that photo in the leather jacket. dominic sessa has an almost kicked puppy face to me for some reason. jamie flatters reminds me of daniel radcliffe in a few ways. and cooper is already a popular fancast, he just has a really good nervous face that’s a bit unsure of himself.

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the prank. a discussion.

simone baldasseroni, sirius black.

dominic sessa, remus lupin.

[Transcript:

[SIRIUS] You don’t know how sorry I am, Remus. I’ve cocked it all up and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to go that far.

[REMUS] You used me like the one thing you told me I could never be. A monster. Do you have any idea how it feels when you’re trying to not be what people think of you, but you prove them right anyways?

[SIRIUS] I might have some clue, yes.]

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i know people worship timothee as regulus but idk i imagine him to not be as alluring or charismatic as sirius just purely because of how “heartbroken” walburga was after sirius left because imo sirius was probably the perfect first born. i think that he pissed her off a lot and their relationship was definitely complicated but it’s those kind of things where a mother is overly critical of their child and their actions but that’s their child. i also think the reason her portrait is so hateful is because of walburga not opening up truly about how she feels about sirius because portraits only know what is taught to them, and i can’t imagine walburga saying she actually loves her “blood traitor” son out loud. also lwk if kreacher still obeyed sirius then like… he wasn’t ever disowned… i think that tapestry is just a tapestry, it might have been extremely important to walburga but it doesn’t seem like she legally disowned him. idk maybe i’m rambling but the general consensus of sirius and walburga’s dynamic is that she was abusive, which i don’t disagree i think verbally berating your son and trying to force him into a set of discriminatory ideals is very much wrong but i think their relationship goes much deeper than walburga casting a torture curse on him throughout his childhood.

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new sirius black fancast? i think so.

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i’d like to think that the as a prefect, lily would feel moved enough to plead with her fellow gryffindors to stop ignoring the obvious blood supremacy beliefs plaguing hogwarts at the time.

hannah dodd as lily evans.

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the golden snitch is james potter’s fidget toy

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rip sirius black and james potter you guys would have loved carnival by ye

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[Transcript: if you need to be mean, be mean to me ]

Above in order: R. Lupin, S. Black, J. Potter

Below: P. Pettigrew

below is the edit without any music.

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J. Potter, R. Lupin. What Makes You Think I’m So Special? (2024)

Jonah Hauer King as James Potter

Dominic Sessa as Remus Lupin

[Remus: “I always though I might be bad. Now, I’m sure that it’s true because I think you’re so good and I’m nothing like you. Look at you go, I just adore you. I wish I knew what makes you think I’m so — special?”]

idc what anyone says james and remus’ friendship is so important to me. also these fancasts are new! not so sure about james but i’m so set on dominic sessa. he nails the mischievous and solemn character that remus is.

regular screengrabs below

better views of them because they’re handsome and fresh and they aren’t the same faces this community keeps using (andrew and aaron you will always be famous tho). also the lyrics are from “Love Like You”!

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valentine’s day special

“Lily Evans, Lily petal, Lily flower of my life,” James loudly recited with a sonorous charm casted to his throat.

To the right of the courtyard, there was a choir of violins (only two) playing and an unenthusiastic boy in a diaper, wearing a wreath made of cheap quills held together with a sticking charm, playing with a toy bow and arrow. He had wings on the back of his shoulder blades and was being levitated by one of the violin players.

“The day is the 14th of February, a day for the celebration of love—“ a violin squeaked unceremoniously (“Peter!” “Sorry, Prongs, I don’t think I got enough rosin on the bow.”), “the celebration of love, an ode to romance, a dedication for soulmates of the world.”

“Evans, lovely lass, do me the honour on this gracious day, and be my valentine!”

A beat.

The dark red headed girl looked unimpressed, her green eyes pierced straight into James’ as he squirmed uncomfortably in his anticipation.

“Sirius,” James hissed quietly at the boy levitating in a diaper, “where’s the fireworks?”

“Keep it in your trousers, mate, it’s supposed to be happening now.” Sirius shot a paper arrow at James, which crumpled as it hit his broad chest. “I told Patel—“ who was set up at Hagrid’s hut, “to set them off at 8:55.”

“Patel? That incompetent blunder?” The bespectacled boy whined.

“It’s 8:54. You rushed your speech, dolt.” Remus stopped playing the violin and only Peter’s under average playing could be heard. Some students covered their ears.

“Well, love has no sense of time, I couldn’t possibly control the speed of how my words come out to my little Lily flower,” James turned back to the little Lily flower in question, who was fuming at the presentation.

“Petal?” He inquired anxiously, “Is something the matter?”

“Potter, you arrogant—“

The fireworks set off finally, big grand flashes of numerous colors and designs materialized into the air, mainly hearts. A shoddily sketched portrait of what was supposed to be Lily Evans was blasted up into the air, with a comically large forehead though.

Lily gasped in horror, “Oh, you-“

At that, she launched a barrage of hexes at James.

“I— will— never— be— your— valentine— you— swine!”

She stalked away with a stressed McGonagall on her tail and her giggling friends skipping to follow her.

As James laid on the grass, staring up at his fireworks, he sighed softly and reached up to the sky, where the portrait of Lily stuck like tiny stars.

“Bad luck, it must have been. She seems like she was in a mood already.”

“Next time, for sure.”

“You alright, Prongs?”

James only shut his eyes and felt his chest as it rose and fell.

“Yeah, I am. Not a big deal.”

ONE HOUR LATER

“Ger’off me!” James cried as he held firmly onto the sides of the opening of the tower. His foot was planted up on the threshold, attempting to lunge forward. “I’m jumping off!”

“Prongs, no!” Sirius, Remus, and Peter held onto their friend, tugging and pulling him away from the edge.

“Mate, get a grip on yourself.” Remus grunted, curling an arm around James’ forehead to knock his balance off.

“No! No grip, I want to let myself loose— off this tower!”

“Be reasonable, please!”

“Think about this!”

“Fine!” James stopped for a second to breathe heavily, “I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

“I think that I need to jump off this bloody tower!” He struggled against Sirius’ arms wrapped around his stomach, his eyes bulged against Remus’ hold on his held, his shirt stretched from Peter’s grip.

“No!” The boys collectively yelled.

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working on she’s a quidditch mom pt 2 & it’s very fun i think.

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100 notes on ‘she’s a quidditch mom’!!!

i didn’t expect it to get that attention but thank you so much!! please don’t be afraid to comment reactions or feedbacks because i eat that shit up xx

if you haven’t already, might i suggest you also take a peek at my first fic ‘i said some things (that i should never say)’, it’s remus lupin x vampire!reader, set during the first wizarding war (which will be incorporated in the third part!)

as for a part 2 on ‘she’s a quidditch mom’… i haven’t started on it but i’d say since it was originally just a blurb, it’ll take a few days? maybe more because i’m working on the third part of the remus fic as well.

but that’s it! thank you for enjoying my work <3

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she’s a quidditch mom

platonic!marauders x reader, james lives au, set 1984.

very small drabble, i saw that trending lulu lemon jacket and thought of soccer moms then thought of this concept. i did not read thru this enough for spelling mistakes or grammar errors so if there are any… no there aren’t :$

works

Children were so enamoured by the prospects of it all, having watched multiple games of the real deal. It was mesmerizing, their big doe eyes flitting back and forth to track the players on their brooms, bums barely keeping themselves on the edge of their seats when the chasers had one hand on their broom and a quaffles tucked under the other, while an opposing beater was right on their trails, bat held out and ready to swing; the whole ordeal was captivating.

So much so that, to your discontentment, your child was caught in the webs of it. At a mere 4 years, your little girl had accumulated a collection of quidditch paraphernalia and memorabilia, all courtesy of your weak inhibitions and your family’s indulgence to spoil your daughter rotten. You shook your head at them all, but not without gifting your daughter another beater’s bat, this time a new color, at the same time.

You don’t exactly know how she came to her obsession with quidditch, but you figured that the influence of your own quidditch enthusiasm was the root of it.

You, yourself, had the same penchant for collecting quidditch merchandise. It was so often that it was a problem, you concerned even yourself.

It started with posters, like it always does, ones you buy from a shop, then it progresses to the foldout posters from magazines, to prints. Then it was the shirts, quidditch gear, and you were in the quicksand before you could even notice it.

You even owned an limited edition Bally Castle Bats x Gladrags underwear set with patterns of red bats and signatures of the whole roster. (You particularly treasured Humphrey Higgins’, the Bats’ star chaser, who was also heralded Rookie Of The Year by Quidditch Now Magazine.)

Your daughter didn’t share this sentiment with you, preferring Chudley Cannons for some reason, but you suspect it was because your father had been whispering into her ear about it. He was an avid Cannons supporter, your dad was. It irked you, having to bite your tongue with each slight he snarks out, but the streak of their losses satiate you enough.

So in hindsight, it wasn’t a surprise when your daughter shrieked happily when you told her there was a community led program hosting an open quidditch game for children aged 4-6 years. She immediately ran to her room, tiny feet comically padding along the hardwood floor, and lugged out her bright orange beater’s bat.

It was from a Chudley Cannons junior quidditch kit that came from your (traitorous) mother, you remember scowling as she hid it behind her back to surprise your daughter on her 2 and a half birthday.

Was that even a thing? You had outrageously exclaimed aloud, and your mother sniffed, nose turning up, “yes, yes it is!”

You didn’t have it in you to argue when you saw your daughter cuddling up to the bat in her bed.

But now, you were severely regretting it, standing in complete shock to see her speeding around the miniature pitch, flying circles around all the other kids, her orange bat held tightly in her hand. She had her lower lip jutted out, and her eyebrows pinched, and you knew from this that she was much too engrossed into the game.

She was chasing the opposing team’s seeker, a small boy with unruly black hair that stuck out in every direction. He was fast, just as fast as her, but she was proving to be a menace on the pitch, leaving her fellow beater in the dust.

You were bewildered to see her manipulate the games’ modifications that were set in place to protect them. The bludgers were much softer and lighter, easier to push and it was absorbing energy from impacts so the hits would hurt less. They were charmed to move slower, only side to side, a bit sluggishly, and less aggressively that the children could dodge it.

Unfortunately, this meant that they were easily controllable and your daughter was fully aware of it, as she quickly maneuvered it with her bat to move in tandem with her, dribbling it like a football, as she swiped at it side to side, fast enough that it wouldn’t go out of reach from her.

It would have been impressive, if it were not for the sole fact that she was a beater and that she should not have been chasing another player.

You wanted to cover your face in embarrassment but when a young man with similar untamed black hair stood, yelling out the words, “Foul! That beater is a menace!”, your face soured and you jumped to your feet, coming to her defense.

She might have been a menace, but she was your menace. And what she was doing was hardly a foul, it just wasn’t very conventional! In fact, it was original— you said in your head, trying to convince yourself.

“Keep going, darling, Mummy’s so proud! He’s gonna turn at the end of the pitch,” You cupped your hands around your mouth to amplify your voice, “swing when he moves to the corner!”

He looked at you with indignation, a scandalised gasp slipping from his mouth.

The banter went on between you two, advising your flying children and coaching them from the sidelines. Sometimes you’d catch a troubled look on their faces, looking at the parent section then back at the game. But the more you heard the man’s annoying voice, the louder you got.

He had a couple of friends by his side, one was very good looking, with long sleek hair and a glass like complexion, and the other had shades on, his sandy hair was mussed up and there were scars littering on his exposed forearms. There was a few small ones on his face as well.

They had seemed amused by this interaction. The good looking one had a crooked smile, you found, as he roared with laughter. The scarred one had an attractive smirk playing on his lips.

“You tell your daughter to follow the rules!”

“Piss off! She is following the rules, not her fault your boy can’t see the snitch!” You pointed at the boy. “Look at him, he’s squinting around.”

It was true. The snitch flew lazily in front of the seeker, but although it was in reach of him, his hand was stretched out and kept missing whenever it moved a bit. It was still right in his face though.

“His glasses aren’t meant for quidditch!” The man protested.

“He has goggles, mate.” His friend wearing shades commented, arms now crossed.

The father groaned unhappily, “You know how fussy he got when I tried putting them on him!”

The whines had almost distracted you, nearly causing you to miss it.

The two children reached the end of the pitch, and just as you had said, the seeker made to turn the corner, and your daughter stopped dribbling the ball, only to grin widely and swing hard.

You cheered loudly, “Go (D/N)*!” You whistled, clapping like mad.

When the soft bludger had floated ceremoniously towards the boy, and bumped into him, the light force wobbled him for a few seconds before he promptly lost balance and fell, laying splayed out on the terf. The snitch fluttered a few seconds on top of him, then flew over to the middle of the pitch.

The father of the seeker held his head in his hands, “We need to get you used to the goggles, Haz.”

Your daughter flew a few inches down and patted the seeker— ‘Haz’s’ head, before zooming right off to see to another bludger, one that she planned on aiming straight for a chaser that finally grabbed a hold of a quaffles.

You wanted to tell her that that chaser was on her team but she was grinning so wide, you didn’t have the heart to.

“Great sportsmanship— keep going, baby!” You urged her on, and smiled softly when she looked up at you to giggle.

When you sat back down, you found that the three men were heading your way. Your fingers nimbly found the strings of grass beneath you and began to rip them out. You hoped they were just going to pass by, but the father of that Haz boy had his eyes trained on you.

With a sigh, you had steeled your courage and faced their approach with a big (fake) smile.

“Hullo boys.” You blocked out the sun, which seemed to burn a little hotter in that moment. “Good day, wouldn’t you agree?”

*: (D/N) means Daughter’s Name

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amazing just learned how to do the keep reading thing. the full length story kept getting on my nerves.