cat!remus being clingy 24/7
if you're not petting cat!remus he's biting you except if you are petting cat!remus he's also biting you so
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When I hear someone mention France I automatically think Regulus Black and Timothée Chalamet.
Regulus: why am I thought of when people mention France?
James: maybe cuz you speak French and have French roots.
Regulus: that doesn’t mean I am all of France!
James: you’re literally packing right now to go to France.
Regulus: I need to buy books in French.
James: why?
Regulus: cuz I need to read to my cat in French. No, James! All my favourite composers wrote their thoughts in French and I can only get the original versions of their books in France.
James: I thought you were going cuz you wanted croissants and baguettes.
Regulus: those to.
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Pet cat Remus like a real cat I see him flinging himself on the bed at 3am because he’s >>:)
LMAO cat!remus sleeps during the day and wreaks havoc at night >:))
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Prompt 22 - Grief/Mourning
@wolfstarmicrofic July 22, word count 506
CW - dead animal, burial,
Sirius came into their dorm room sobbing his eyes out.
“Moony, Prongs, something terrible’s happened!” His face was red and blotchy. Remus had never seen him so upset. He was cradling something furry in his hand. It took Remus a second to figure out what it was. It was a brown rat.
“Lily’s cat was chasing him. I tried to rescue him but-but-but, I was too late,” Sirius wailed.
“Oh, shit!” James gasped from across the room.
“What are you on about, Sirius?” Remus questioned him, not quite understanding why Sirius was so upset.
“It’s Wormtail!” He cried, holding up the limp rat. He sobbed harder, letting James hold him and cry alongside him. Remus bit his tongue to keep the sarcastic comments contained.
“He was the most amazing friend,” James stated sadly. “He was always there when you needed to talk and, while he was small, when he transformed, I will never forget the time he snuck up behind Mrs Norris and bit her tail so we could get away before Filch caught us.”
“I-I-I remember how sweet he was when Moony and I started going out, and he bought us all that chocolate and butterbeer. I don’t even know how he carried it all. He was the best of us!” Remus sighed through his nose and resisted a facepalm.
Just then, Peter walked in, saving Remus from having to explain that if the rat had been Peter it would have transformed back when Clawd got hold of him.
“Why are they crying?” Peter asked, eyeing the rat in Sirius’s hands.
“They think that’s you,” Remus explained, rolling his eyes.
“Oh Peter,” James patted the poor lifeless rat.
“Guys, I’m right here,” Peter groaned.
“I can still hear his voice!” Sirius leaned into James’s chest.
“Wait, me too,” James said, confused.
“Idiots,” Peter tutted.
Sirius and James spun around.
“Peter?” They said together. “PETER!” The rat fell from Sirius's hand, and they jumped on Peter.
“Hey, get off, you nutters!” Peter yelped as they squashed him onto Remus's bed. Remus stooped and picked up the rat Sirius had dropped.
“Well, I think after all that this little guy deserves a proper burial,” Remus declared and grabbed Sirius’s arm, hauling him off Peter. “Come on Prongs, Wormtail, this requires all of us.
They dug a little hole in front of the whomping willow and laid the rat to rest. “You picked the wrong dorm little rat. I’m sorry your life was cut short, and I guess we'll never know why you were all the way up at the top of Gryffindor Tower. Rest in peace little buddy.” Remus used his wand to fill in the grave, and they all stood quietly and stared at it.
“Glad it wasn’t you Wormy,” Sirius said, clapping Peter on the back.
“Er, thanks,” Peter huffed out a laugh. Remus burst out laughing, which set them all off.
“Merlin, I love you,” Remus kissed the top of Sirius’s head, and they walked back up to the castle to relax before dinner.
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Thinking about teenage Sirius, wickedly smart with top grades, a rich heir to an old pureblood house, tall and handsome and haugty, drawing many admiring and envious looks that he appears to be above acknowledging. Popular, yet sticks to his small and close circle of friends, not really allowing anyone else close.
But even with them he's guarded about his own physical space; the old uncease is hard to shake, and it twists the want into knots. No matter how much he craves this intimicy, he struggles to accept it when it's given, and initiating it himself is even more difficult.
Padfoot makes everything simple, though. And so Sirius starts turning into him whenever he needs to be close - because asking for cuddles is so much easier for the dog than it is for the boy.
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