#everything for our moony

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

jegulus core

or

wolfstar core

[wafflinglumos]

Remus Lupin probably hated the night sky, maybe it was because of the moon, maybe it was because it reminded him of his lycanthropy. Maybe it was because he didn’t like the night.

Maybe at some point, during is fifth year even, he didn’t hate the night sky as much, because he was accompanied with his three best friends when the moon was full. Which made it a lot more bearable.

Maybe he hated it after James and Lily died, he didn’t have his friends to accompany him when he transformed into a werewolf anymore and at that time he wouldn’t be able to get his hands on wolfsbane until around 1993.

On that note, he probably absolutely loathed the night sky because what constellation and what star would greet him.

Sirius is the brightest star in the night sky, it being outshined by the moon, a few planets, and the international space station. It’d be kinda hard to ignore it when you look up, it’d be kinda hard for Remus to stop himself from looking too.

Maybe Remus Lupin hated the night sky because of his lycanthropy or maybe he hated it because of Sirius Black, or maybe he didn’t hate it at all.

Who knows really?

[luceeelou]

today i found out that two of my friends dont know who remus lupin is and ive gotta say im very disappointed in them.

[je-suis-problematique]

Behold our current (dysfunctional) fronting team made up of Leon (me), Raphael, Moony, Gortash, Halsin, Chris, Rolan, Zed, and Sengo (that was the closest faceclaim I could find that vaguely looks like Sengo so forgive me for any inaccuracies). This lot is in charge of making sure we don't spontaneously combust while dealing with everyday stressors.

– Leon

[ddejavvu]

bff james w no boundaries — his main love language is physical touch and that includes biting,, like 😭 you’ll just be minding ur own business n he’ll bite your shoulder or anywhere really.

hope ur doing well angel. ❤️

"Here, Remus," You offer up a spoon of blueberry tart to the teenage werewolf, unphased by now at the closeness of your friends. Perhaps at eleven you'd be worried about swapping cooties when sharing spoons, but now you're only worried about plumping Remus's gaunt frame up again before the next full moon.

You extend the spoon towards Remus but in doing so you have to bypass James who's sitting beside you on the bench. You'd expected him to fake a lunge for the sweet, but when he opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into what's in front of him it happens to be the flesh of your arm.

"Hey-ow!" You yelp, and despite your word choice, it doesn't really hurt. It's more of a grasp than it is a bite, just enough force to pin your arm between James's infuriatingly perfect teeth.

"Prongs," Sirius's face screws up in what you're sure is a mix of embarrassment and confusion at his friend's behavior, but perhaps there's a slight possibility of fear there, too. Fear that James has become a cannibal and the boy with the bed next to his will suffer tonight.

"That's good." James retracts his bite as quickly as he'd dished it out, smacking his lips like there'd been something swallowed and enjoyed, "That's good arm."

"You're a freak." Remus drawls, finally taking the tart from your spoon and letting the flavors wash over his tongue, "Pads and I are supposed to be the biters. Deer are just supposed to run away from everything."

"That's not true." James defends his animagus with a passion while Sirius snickers across the table, "Deer fight with their antlers. Sometimes deer fight so hard that their antlers come off. And deer do bite sometimes, thank you very much."

"Only during mating season." Sirius references the copious research they'd each done into their animal counterparts, "Don't steal another page from the dog book and start humping her leg, Prongs."

"It is not my mating season!" James exclaims, just a bit too loud for the social setting you're in. Your cheeks are blazing but thankfully James is making a fool of himself enough that no one is studying you. "I'm simply overcome with the urge to sink my teeth into people when I'm feeling particularly fond of them. Y/N's making sure Moony's stomach isn't flatter than his ribcage, and I appreciate that. Only a good woman shares her blueberry tart. Hence," He grins, more of a baring of his teeth than a smile, "I bite."

He leans down to take a chunk out of your shoulder this time, and you feel the sharp-but-gentle pricking of his teeth even through three layers of clothing.

You have the time and the power to raise your shoulder and clock James in the teeth with your bone. But you refrain, and perhaps that's why Sirius finally latches onto you instead of James.

"Careful, darling." He warns, his own canines glinting in the candlelight above, "Deer can go rabid. I'd make sure you're not contaminated with his saliva if I were you."

"Too late." James grumbles around the meat of your shoulder, raising his head quicker than you can react to lick a fat, wet stripe across your face, "I'm not rabid, Pads. But I can see why you dogs do the licking thing. It's not bad."

"Yes it is." You decide, smearing away his sticky spit with the sleeve of your button-up, feeling the phantom sensation of his teeth on your skin, "And if you do it again I'll bite you back."

"Kinky, you two." Sirius kicks you beneath the table, a wicked grin on his face, "Remus, I think we should take our meal elsewhere. Prongs and Y/N are about to start necking right in front of the pastries, and that's not the glaze I prefer on my donuts."

[moonstruckme]

i loove the way you characterize the marauders! is there any chance i can request a drabble of protective! marauders when their s/o wears something very revealing to like a girls night out 🙈

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: alcohol, men (the ones who aren't our loverboys)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 843 words

Although he doesn’t think of himself as the confrontational type, Remus has no qualms at all with letting his stare bore relentlessly into the man standing against the wall. It takes a minute for the bloke to feel it, but when he looks away from you and catches Remus’ eye, he decides to ogle his drink instead. 

“Fuck,” Sirius sighs, longing woven into the threads of his voice, “that skirt is right dangerous.” 

James hums emphatically, both of their eyes glued to where you’re off dancing with your friends. 

When you’d pulled it on earlier and your boyfriends’ tongues had just about fallen out of their mouths, you’d described it as a “low rise miniskirt.” Remus thought it might more accurately be called a “strip of fabric.” He’s fairly sure you own headbands that are thicker than what you’re wearing now. Pairing it with one of your little tops had all but ensured James wouldn’t be getting a full, intelligent sentence out all night, and you’d covertly asked Remus to take your boyfriends to the bar for a drink when Sirius wouldn’t unstick his hands from you long enough to let you actually dance. 

“She’s alright,” Remus says, turning his stare on another man eye-fucking you from near them at the bar. “She knows how to take care of herself.” 

(And you do, though he doubts you’d mind him offering you a bit of help.)

“I meant for me.” Sirius’ expression is theatrically pained. He looks like he couldn’t rip his eyes away from you if he tried. “Look, you both know I don’t like to get too steamy in public—” James snorts, and Remus coughs into his drink “—but if one of you doesn’t kiss me passionately within the next few minutes, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself from dragging all three of you straight home.” 

“I thought Moony was supposed to be the one with the irresistible urges,” James jokes. Sirius doesn’t seem to hear the joke, but Remus accepts the quick cheek peck James offers him in recompense. “Hang on, I’ll snog you in a bit. Angel!” 

He waves his hand until you look over, gesturing for you to come to the bar. If you’re disappointed to be taken away from your girlfriends you don’t show it, though Remus thinks you might be the sort of tipsy where you’re happy with just about everything regardless. You’re beaming as you make your way over to them. 

“Hey, lovie,” James says. He kisses your cheek while his fingers find the hem of your skirt, giving it a firm tug so it covers more of your ass. Sirius watches its descent with torment in his eyes. “Do you want another drink?”

Your smile goes crooked. Remus thinks you’re trying to be sly, which is just fucking adorable. “You’re gonna get one for me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at James. 

James grins back at you just as contentedly. “If you want,” he agrees, grasping the fabric of your top to shimmy it up an inch. “Another dirty shirley?” 

“Please.” You peck him on the lips. 

While James turns to speak to the bartender, Sirius steals you away. He takes your hips in both hands, manhandling you closer until he can wrap his arms around your waist and drop his chin on your shoulder. You look happy to be manhandled. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Sirius laments, putting his lips to your skin so his voice is a mournful mumble. You bring up a hand to pet his hair, and the look you give Remus says that you do know, actually. “I think we ought to go home.” 

You appear unsurprised at this request. You turn your head to reply, “I’m having fun, though. Aren’t you?” 

“I was,” Sirius groans. “Let me come back out there with you, please? I promise to behave this time.” 

You hum thoughtfully, sending Remus a playful look. “I don’t know. Do you think he can manage it?” 

Remus suppresses a smile. Sirius does love to dance, but Remus knows he sees dancing with you as an opportunity to prove to onlookers that you’re taken as much as it is a chance to grope you himself. And with the mood his last few cocktails have put him in, Remus wouldn’t be surprised if “dancing” turned into a very public makeout session in record time. 

“Doubtful,” Remus says, impervious to Sirius’ pout, “but why rob us all of the show.” 

Sirius’ grin spreads like a sunrise. 

“Alright,” you say as James hands you your drink. “Ready?” 

Sirius agrees enthusiastically, and you start back towards the dance floor, shouting a quick “Thanks, Jamie!” over your shoulder as you lift your drink above the crowd. 

“Think we ought to worry about her taking that out there?” James cranes his neck to keep track of you. “You know, uncovered and all?” 

“No,” Remus says placidly as Sirius snaps at a bloke who happens to glance at your drink as it goes by. “He’s got her just fine.” 

[crescenthistory]

heyyyy I’m just so in love with how you write Barty so I wanted to do two request if that’s okay! B6 and D8 (if it is with the series you already making even better!) and I love your writing I so much🤍🤍

hi lovie, thank you for your support<3 i've already written for both of these prompts, so i kinda reworked this, but kept the general vibe of sleepiness and fluff and the dynamic

Words: 2k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, remus pov near the full moon so joint aches and lots of anxiety, breaking curfew, I Need Everyone Near Where I Can Protect Them mindset, some minor suggestive quips, background wolfstar, just fluff really

Note: part of the grumpy!reader universe, set after the reveal to friends in and what about it?, but can be read as a stand alone drabble<3

The nearer the full moon crept, the deeper Remus’ protectiveness seemed to root itself into his heart, spreading out into his bloodstream. A wolfish instinct, if you could call it that, to keep his pack close. If his friends were out of his line of sight or, even worse, out of reach for his smell, anxiety burst through Remus’ body until he was left jittery and dizzy. 

That left him in the Gryffindor common room, a good 20 minutes after curfew on a Thursday evening, leg bouncing restlessly as he watched the portrait hole with hollow eyes. 

Sirius beside him had a hand on his knee, originally intended to quell its tremor, and once he realised that would not happen, it remained there as a support. The black haired boy seemed largely unbothered by everything, but the tension in his body betrayed him – though Remus was growing suspicious he was worried about something entirely different than he was. Namely, about him.

Across from them, James was draped over a grandfather chair, head repeatedly falling as he nodded off before he jerked himself back awake.

“How much longer are we going to stay here, Moons?” he managed to get out in between yawns, already worn out from quidditch practice earlier.

“Until our friend is safe in bed.” Remus squared his shoulders haughtily, leaving no room for argument. Then, “Where is she?” he muttered to himself, so quietly Sirius only barely caught it and had to fight back his sympathetic coo.

“Y/N is fine, baby,” he whispered, the hand on his knee shaking it slightly. “It’s not the first time she’s staying out late. Hells, we do it all the time, too!”

And Remus knew that. Of course he knew that. Every other time of the month, that knowledge would have allowed him to shake his head fondly at your antics, heading off to bed excited to hear about your adventures tomorrow.

Alas; this was not any other time of the month.

“I should go find her,” Remus thought out loud, groaning as he got up from his seat too quickly and his joints gave various sounds of complaint.

“Moony, there is no need–” Sirius started before cutting himself off, apparently thinking better. “My love, if there is anyone who can navigate Hogwarts after dark, it is that minx. The shadows would be scared off by her glare alone. And she won’t appreciate your interruption of whatever she is off doing now.”

“Or who,” James whispered through his sleepiness, horror seeping into his voice.

Sirius’ groan at the thought mirrored him. “Merlin’s beard, yeah, she’s probably off with Junior.”

“I don’t think I will ever get used to hearing that.” James righted himself slightly in his chair, dragging his hands up and down his face, failing at ridding it of sleep.

Remus, still standing, turned his hands outward in a dejected position. His friends’ derailing seemed to be of little notice to him. “But we don’t know. I need to know.”

“Rem,” Sirius whispered in that unbearably soft voice Remus thought himself the luckiest boy in the world to have directed at him. He got up from his seat, hands settling on Remus’ waist, both for comfort and for steading him, he suspected. “She is alright. She always is. And, whether I quite like it or not, if she is with Junior, she is double-y safe. If nothing else, that maniac is protective.”

Remus nodded, allowing himself some comfort as he gazed into Sirius’ silver eyes. “Yeah, she is, I know she is.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Sirius’ lips. “But?”

“But I’m going to go get her.” Remus’ heart clenched a little in humiliation at how deep the wolf’s streak ran in him in these days, but he also would not let any discomfort get in the way of having his whole pack at home in their nests, where they belong. You can continue your adventures tomorrow.

“Yeah, I know you are,” Sirius relented, pulling Remus into a quick, squeezing hug to ground him. “I’ll go get the map and the cloak and we’ll go.”

Before Sirius could finish his sentence, Remus had accio’d both into his hands.

“No, that’s alright, I’ll go myself.” When Sirius looked like he was about to argue, Remus waved his wand a little in his face as if to say down boy. “As Head Boy, I can get away easier with being out past curfew – you on the other hand, would be shackled up in Flich’s basement before you could get a word out.”

“I have been out past curfew without being caught before, Moons,” Sirius guffawed in true Sirius-offence. 

“Not when picking up one of your best friends from nighttime adventures with one of your least favourite people.” Despite his anxiety and tire, Remus shot Sirius a wink and a small grin that told him I know you, Pads.

Sirius sat back down on the sofa with a huff, crossing his arms petulantly. “Be quick, or I’ll be the grumbly wolf.”

Remus bent down – biting back a small groan as his hip objected – and pressed a wet smooch to Sirius’ forehead and ruffled his hair. “You already are, love.”

When Remus walked towards the portrait hole, map and cloak in hand, he passed a snoring James with his mouth agape. He had a creeping sensation that by the time he came back, Sirius would have woken the poor boy by poking his finger into his mouth.

Cloak around him for extra measure, Remus silently slid down the halls of Hogwarts, fumbling the map open to find you. Just as suspected, a small Y/N L/N was in the astronomy tower with a certain Bartemius Crouch Junior, foot steps almost on top of each other.

He almost cursed his friend for choosing her romantic get-away spot at the top of such an awful amount of stairs before he remembered the spell you had crafted for him with Madam Pomfrey just a few weeks back. You had dedicated your free time to inventing solutions for Remus’ different aches – “what’s the point of magic if not to make your life easier, Moons?” – and while this one was still a work in progress, it allowed the field of gravity around his legs to be lifted enough to take some of the pressure off his poor joints. It worked way better than the countless amounts of times James and Sirius had tried to wingardium leviosa him to class.

As he neared the door that your names were sheltered behind on the map, Remus’ nose was appeased as your familiar scent once more flooded him. Barty’s too, for that matter, and though that was a less welcoming one, Remus had come to find he didn’t much mind it either. 

However, he did not hear voices, which puzzled him. Nor any other sounds that perhaps would have had him turning around.

With a careful hand, Remus opened the creaking door to the very top of the astronomy tower, peaking his tawny curls through the opening and trying to behave as a normal concerned friend and not an anxious, possessive wolf.

“Lupin; to what do we owe the displeasure?”

The voice had all of its usual crass wittiness, but an eight of its usual volume. In the wide windowsill across from Remus, the one that had a view of most of Hogwarts’ grounds, sat Barty propped up with a few pillows and you, sleeping soundly on his chest. 

One arm was held protectively around you, his free hand carding gently through your hair. Your face was slightly smushed against his chest, breathing soft and steady.

Remus doubted he had ever seen you look so serene. It almost made him feel bad for interrupting. Almost.

“Good evening to you too, Junior,” he whispered, as he slowly made his way through the room and over to your sleeping form. He swore he could see Barty tighten his grip on you.

“Should a Head Boy be breaking curfew like this? What would good old Albus say?” 

“Well, when a member of his house doesn’t come home at night, I believe it is a Head Boy’s duty to come fetch them.” Remus tried to seem unbothered, not wanting Barty to know just how anxious he gets when his friends are apart. “Albus would certainly approve.”

Barty hummed, looking from him and down at you. The soft smile that played over his lips did not escape Remus. “I would argue she is home.” Barty’s voice was teasing, but it felt quite real for Remus.

“Is that where your relationship is at now?” There was no teasing in Remus’ voice, just soft curiosity. Support, even, though he could never tell Sirius that.

Barty’s eyes flickered up from you again, facing becoming a bit more stoney as he realised his own sleepiness was making him a tad more soft than he wanted to be in front of the Gryffindor.

“Whatever. Well, as you can see, she’s safe. So you can sod off again.”

“She should come back to the dormitories, Junior. I’m sure she wasn’t planning on spending the night sleeping in a stony windowsill, that can’t possibly be comfortable at length.” 

“Firstly, she is mostly sleeping on top of me right now and I’ll have you know I am super comfortable,” Barty quipped, eyeing Remus. “Secondly,–” a breath “– no, she wasn’t planning on sleeping here, but she did fall asleep. So.”

Remus nodded slowly as he read between the lines, trying to fight his small smile at Barty’s expense – he was sure he would not have appreciated it. “You don’t have the heart to wake her.”

Barty scoffed, but his eyes betrayed him. He was caught. “I don’t have a heart period.”

“But?” Remus asked, amusement lining his voice in a way he realised mirrored how Sirius spoke to him earlier. Knowingly, affectionately. 

“But look at her, Lupin. I can’t wake her.” While speaking, Barty seemed to gesture towards your sleeping form with the nod of his jaw, refusing to move his hands from where they were drawing circles on your back and playing with your hair.

Remus hummed in agreement, smile officially bursting free of his hold.

“Oh, sodder off,” Barty grumbled as he saw Remus’ expression, but there seemed to be little to no malice in his voice.

“Sorry, sorry,” Remus laughed softly, careful not to wake you with their conversation. “Just… this was not what I expected to happen three years ago when James confessed his feelings for Regulus to me.”

Barty seemed to scowl at the thought of his best friend and his Gryffindor. “They’re disgusting.”

“Yeah,” Remus said fondly. “And so are you two. Ain’t it great?” 

Barty grumbled, hand in your hair stilling to hold the back of your head. “I’m still not waking her up for you.”

“No need. If you’re careful with shifting her, you could carry her back to the dorms with me.”

“You want me to carry her all the way to Gryffindor?” Barty asked incredulously, looking at Remus as if he was stupid. “I appreciate you noticing my spectacular biceps, but that’s just not happening.”

Remus’ eyes twinkled. “Actually, I’ve got just the spell to make it easier for you.”

And so, Barty carefully shuffled you in his arms while Remus had his wand aimed at the both of you, helping ease the gravity off your form so that it would both be easier for Barty to carry you and for you to continue sleeping.

When you were bridal style in his arms, you shifted a little, burying your face further into his neck. “Sorry, darling,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline.

“Fuck off, Junior, let me sleep,” you whined, growing comfortable and tired once more. Remus had to fight not to laugh loudly.

“It’s not my fault, the cops showed up to end our fun.” Barty looked at Remus conspiratorially, who only rolled his eyes in return, as he led the way back to Gryffindor. 

“Stop saying stupid things and let me sleep, baby.” Your voice was already drifting off once more and Barty grinned widely at your slurred words.

“Yes, ma’am.”

It amazed Remus how much this boy loved being insulted by you. Your perfect match, evidently.

As you drifted back to sleep, and the closer your little trio got to the common room where his partner and best friend were waiting, the more Remus’ nerves seemed to settle. Everyone is where they should be.

[my-castles-crumbling]

crack fic - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 249

"Sirius," Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger, "what are you carrying?"

Sirius blinked at Remus innocently. "My wand, Moony. We are wizards, or have you forgotten?" He waved the wand in question in front of himself to make his point.

But Remus just pressed his lips together. "Sirius. What are you holding in your other hand?"

Sirius looked over and recoiled, like he was quite surprised to see what he was holding. "Oh, Moons! I forgot to tell you! I went shopping!"

"Shopping," Remus repeated flatly, questioning every life choice he'd made up until that moment.

"Mhm," Sirius grinned, grey-blue eyes widening hugely.

"Where?" Remus asked, thinking he probably should put this whole conversation to bed, but quite curious about the next answer.

Sirius shifted from one foot to another. "Erm...London?"

"London," Remus repeated again. "You bought that in London?"

"Oh, yes," Sirius nodded, face grim. "You can find anything in London if you know where to look."

It took everything in Remus not to burst out laughing. "Sirius. You're telling me you bought a one-meter tall stuffed bear wearing a t-shirt with James's face on it just...around London?"

Sirius brought the bear into both arms hugging it close. "Yes," he mumbled into the fur.

Remus looked his husband over again and decided this was one of those times he would pick his battles. He was long past trying to understand Sirius and James's codependency issues. "Alright. But not on our bed."

[jaythes1mp]

4277 words, 24103 characters, 279 sentences, 116 paragraphs,17.1 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae @wpdarlingpan @dhanyasri @tojislvrr @phoenixgurl030 @mel-star636 @lilyalone @lavender-moony @nickey-diano

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

Ideas for the name of the pet turtle are welcome and encouraged🙏

You groggily woke up, feeling warm and disoriented. You stretched out your limbs and shifted up, the sheets falling down your shoulders and pooling in your lap.

The warmth and comfort of your bed suddenly felt stifling as the memories of the night before came rushing back to you all at once. A wave of nausea washed over you, your stomach churning with a queasy feeling that threatened to empty itself. You felt a strong urge to vomit, the events of the night still fresh in your mind, like a raw wound.

The images and sensations of the previous night's events were stark and vivid in your mind. The fear, the pain, the adrenaline. Everything replayed in your head like a movie, each scene clear and horrifyingly real. The realization that you'd been in danger, that you could have been seriously hurt, hit you like a physical blow. You felt your stomach twist and turn, your body's natural response to the emotional onslaught.

You let out a sigh, the queasiness still lingering in your body. Deciding to distract yourself, you leaned down to get some turtle pellets and baby carrot slices from the small container you kept under your bed.

With gentle hands, you unclipped the opening of your turtle's enclosure, pausing for a brief moment as you looked at the small reptile. It was oblivious to the turmoil you were going through. You place the food into the corner where its small bowl was. As you did, the turtle stirred slightly, sensing your presence.

You let out a soft sigh, your fingers gently tracing the hard, bumpy shell of your turtle. You take comfort in the feeling of the reptile under your touch, appreciating its gentle presence in the moment. It responds by crawling forward ever so slightly, as if beckoning for more affection.

You chuckled softly, amused by the turtle's attempt. It was a small, innocent act that brought a momentary feeling of peace to your chaotic thoughts. You gently pick the little creature up and delicately press a kiss to its head. Its scaly skin felt cool against your lips, and you notice the slightest tilt to its head as if it was responding to your gesture. You carefully set it back into the enclosure, closing it quietly.

You stand in the hallway, having changed your clothes and brushed your teeth, but hesitating on your next move. You're unsure of how to approach Jason, unsure of how to explain what happened last night. Your mind is swirling, wrestling with the decision of whether to tell him or not.

The very thought makes you feel ill again, bringing back the familiar queasiness in your stomach. You chew on your lip, contemplating your options.

Jason is slumped on the sofa, the TV casting flickering shadows across his face in the early morning light. His eyes are red-rimmed and puffy from lack of sleep, his features etched with worry and concern. It's clear that he's been awake all night, his mind consumed by thoughts of your safety.

He had barely managed to stop himself from bursting into your room late last night when he heard about the altercation. The urge to go out and hunt the thugs himself had been strong, a fierce and protective instinct that had taken all of his self-control to suppress.

He sits up straighter when he hears your door click open. His ears prick up, straining to hear any signs of your footsteps approaching.

When he hears the sound of your door opening and closing, he leans forward slightly, his jaw clenching. He's been worrying all night, and the relief he feels at the sound of your voice is a mixture of reassurance and relief.

"Kid?" He calls out, his voice gruff. "Can you come here for a minute?"

You hesitantly walk into the living room, feeling a sense of foolishness for having lingered in the hallway for so long. You realize that Jason doesn't know anything about what happened last night. He would find it strange if he knew you had been standing in the hallway, silently hesitating.

You take a deep breath and summon up your courage, plastering a neutral expression on your face as you approach him where he's sat on the sofa. “What’s up, Jay?”

Jason's eyes instantly meet yours as you enter the room, a sharp, penetrating gaze, one that's immediately scrutinising you. He scans you up and down, no doubt looking for any signs of injury, or anything amiss. But his gaze softens when he doesn't find any.

He pats the cushion next to him, gesturing for you to sit down. "Come here. I want to talk to you about something."

You gingerly sit down on the couch next to Jason, the unease and discomfort you feel evident in your body language. You try to maintain a casual exterior, but the tension in your shoulders gives you away.

Jason glances over at you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he picks up on your uncomfortable manner. He turns the volume of the TV down, giving you his full attention.

He takes a moment to observe you, the slight tenseness in your body, the subtle shift in your expression as you try to maintain a facade of normalcy. He's known you long enough to know that something is off. He can practically smell the anxiety and fear radiating off you.

The silence between you stretches out for a moment, the only sound in the room being the low hum of the TV. Jason's gaze remains fixed on you, studying your expression like a hawk. It's clear that he has a lot on his mind, and he's still working out how to approach the topic he wants to bring up.

"You came home late last night." Jason comments, his tone carefully casual. He studies your face closely, searching for any signs of fatigue or discomfort. He's not one to mince words, and while he's trying to tread lightly, he still needs to ask the question.

"I waited up for you. I thought maybe you had stayed over at a friend's house, given you didn't come home last night. But here you are, at home and unhurt."

You visibly shrink slightly as you digest Jason's words. The thought of him staying up all night, worried about you, makes you feel guilty and regretful.

You hesitate, the memories of last night's events still fresh in your mind. The feeling of the cold barrel pressed against your head was still a vivid, haunting sensation. You let out a soft, deep breath, your hand unconsciously moving to rub at the back of your neck, a nervous habit. Finally, you force yourself to speak up.

"Something... something happened last night," you say, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Jason frowns at your wince, his expression hardening with worry and concern. He notices your nervous rubbing of your neck and the way you pause before speaking, the words reluctant and apprehensive.

Your voice barely above a whisper. As you spoke, Jason could see the way your shoulders tense, the slight shake in your voice. He doesn't miss the way you reflexively touch your neck, and his mind instantly jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Had it been worse than the demon spawn had described?

Jason's jaw clenches at your confession, his eyes darkening with anger. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what might have happened, so he doesn’t have to act surprised. The very thought of someone laying a hand on you, of hurting you, makes his blood boil.

He leans closer to you, his gaze sharpening. "What exactly happened? Tell me everything." If that little shithead spared even one detail he was going to kill him.

You inhale deeply, trying to maintain your composure, but the memories of the incident are still raw and unsettling. You shudder slightly, the fear and anxiety from the previous night returning with a vengeance. You rub your bruised wrists, feeling a phantom pain on the spot where the woman had been pressed roughly against you.

You told him in detail about what happened, having to pause during some parts, the reality of the situation having settled in. You could have died.

Jason's face hardens to stone as he listens to your account of last night's events. With each detail, his anger mounts, his veins practically bulging with suppressed rage. His hands clench and unclench in his lap, the restraint it's taking him to not go out and hunt for those women right then and there nearly more than he can handle.

When you finish recounting the incident, there is a tense silence as Jason takes a moment to process everything he's just heard. It was to a T what had been described to the family last night. His knuckles turn white in rage, but the way you fan over Robin even while telling such a traumatising experience causes his eyes to soften.

Jason's tone is firm and non-negotiable as he looks at you, his eyes locked onto yours.

"You're not going out alone anymore," he says, his voice leaving no room for debate or negotiation. It wasn't a suggestion, it was a command.

You can sense the protectiveness in his words, the raw, primal instinct to keep you safe and away from harm.

Your lips parted automatically, a protest forming on your tongue, but Jason cut you off before you could even speak. His gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing in a warning.

"No," he spoke, his voice leaving little room for argument. "This is not up for debate. Not anymore. You're not going out alone, period."

“Jason.” Your voice cracks with a hint of anger as you speak his name. Your voice strong and filled with determination. "You can't tell me what to do. I'm not a child."

Jason's expression darkens at your stubborn protest, his jaw clenching. "I'm not saying you're a child. But what happened last night shows you're not capable of protecting yourself."

His words are blunt, his tone harsh but there's an undercurrent of concern in his voice. "You could have been seriously hurt.. or worse. This isn't up for debate."

His eyes narrowed, the frustration showing in the sharp edges of his features. "... You think I like telling you what to do? You think I enjoy being the over protective brother who has to watch your every move? You're being stupid and stubborn." He does. He so desperately does, but he needs you to understand.

You freeze at his words, swallowing the lump that’s formed in your throat. His words cut you like knives. You had gotten so used to having him there to rely on that it hadn’t ever occurred to you that maybe he doesn’t want to look over you.

You never wanted to have to put him in that position. Your voice wavers. “Oh...” You hated how weak that sounded. You were better, stronger than this.

Jason's eyes soften as he sees the pain in yours, his own frustration shifting into understanding.

"Hey," he speaks, his voice gentler now, his features softening slightly. "I do this because I care about you. You know that right?"

He studies you, a small frown on his face. You look so.. vulnerable in that moment. So unlike your usual self. He hates it. He just wants you to understand where he's coming from. He needs you to understand.

"I don't want to control you... I just want you to be safe."

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, his frustration still evident in the clenched jaw and tensed shoulders. “I don’t want to have to tell you what to do. But you make it impossible. You’re stubborn and reckless. You don’t think before you act. You take unnecessary risks."

Jason pauses, his words catching in his throat as he realises how familiar these words he's saying sound. They're the same words Bruce used to say to him. The same lectures. You were turning him into Bruce.

He swallows roughly, the realisation of becoming the very person he swore he wouldn't be weighing heavily on him. He takes a deep breath, struggling to control the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Frustration, anger, worry, and a strange sense of deja vu.

"This isn't about control," he continues, his voice slightly strained, "It's about keeping you safe. Alive. If I have to tell you to not do something, if I have to force you to do something, then I will. Because I'd rather you hate me and be alive than love me and be dead."

Jason's eyes lock onto yours again, the intensity in them unmistakeable. He would do anything, everything to keep you safe. Even if it made you hate him.

You swallow heavily, your heart feeling like it's been squeezed by a vice. The depth of emotion in his voice, the intensity in his eyes, it's overwhelming. You know he means every word he's saying. You know he cares.

But you can't help the anger that's rising up in you. You're not some fragile porcelain doll that needs to be locked away and protected. You're a person. A person that can think for themselves and make their own decisions.

You grit your teeth and let your voice hang low, unemotional. Detached. “Fine. I’ll call Tim to meet up with me at that new arcade between the theatres. Happy? Huh Dad?” You won’t. You just need to get out of here. You don’t want to be around anyone right now.

Jason's expression darkens as you speak, his jaw tensing at the coldness in your voice. Your use of the word "Dad", the sarcastic and detached tone you had used, it was like a slap to the face.

He can see through your facade. He knows you're trying to get him off your back. But knowing that doesn't make it any less painful. It makes him angry. You, acting like he's the bad guy in this. You not understanding the hell he's gone through, the hell he's still going through. It's so frustrating.

But he doesn't snap. He doesn't rise to the bait. He keeps his voice even, controlled.

"Fine."

The anger is evident in the way he bites out the word, but he tries to keep his expression neutral. He knows you're just trying to push him away. But he's not going to let you do that. He's not going to let you put yourself in danger again. Ever.

You huff in frustration and stand up from the couch, your hands balling into fists at your sides. You want to storm out of the room, but you can feel Jason's gaze on your back, watching your every move.

So instead, you settle for walking away from the couch, putting some distance between you and Jason. The room feels too small, too claustrophobic. You need to get out. You need fresh air.

With a final, silent look at Jason, you grab your phone and keys from the side table near the door. You don’t have a destination in mind, you just need to get away. Away from the suffocating atmosphere in that apartment.

Without another word, you open the front door and stride out into the hallway, letting the door slam shut behind you.

You walked through the streets, the cool evening air doing little to cool your temper. Your mind replaying the conversation with Jason over and over again. You knew you were being stubborn, childish even, that you were in the wrong. But you couldn't help it. Right now, you didn't care. The frustration and anger were still bubbling inside you, fuelling your every step. You needed space. You needed to be on your own.

You were an adult, capable of making your own decisions. You’ve had to since you were very young. It wasn't fair for Jason to suddenly start treating you like a helpless child, just because of one isolated incident.

You walked for what felt like hours, the anger and frustration propelling you forward. Night settled over the city, the streetlights casting an eerie glow on the empty streets. Your phone buzzes occasionally in your pocket, but you ignore it. You weren't ready to talk to Jason yet. You weren't ready to face him and his over protectiveness. You just needed to breathe. To think.

You were so lost in thought, so consumed by the storm of emotions roiling within you, that you hadn't noticed the figure until it was too late. You collided with a solid, unmoving object, your forehead connecting with a hard chest.

The impact snapped you back into reality, a small gasp of surprise escaping your lips. You stumbled backwards, your hands instinctively coming up to rub at your sore forehead.

Your eyes widen as you look up, your gaze meeting the man's face. His expression is friendly, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he stuffs his phone into his pocket. It's a sharp contrast to the dark, brooding anger that's been gnawing at your insides.

Your eyes widen in surprise as you look up, your heart jumping in your chest. Standing in front of you is none other than Bruce Wayne, his tall, imposing figure easily recognizable even in the dim street light.

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed where you were walking. You stumble backwards, a mixture of surprise and shock on your face.

"Mr... Mr Bruce?" you blurt out, your voice wavering slightly.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you recognised the man in front of you. Your voice laced with shock. You took a few steps back, trying to stabilise yourself and put some distance between the two of you.

His eyes narrowed momentarily at the action of you backing away. A soft chuckle passing his lips. “Mr? I’ve told you to just call me Bruce.” Your name slipped past his lips so smoothly you’d think he’d rehearsed it a million times in the mirror.

It wasn't a coincidence that you ran into Bruce Wayne on these empty streets. Jason had informed them about the situation, updating them all on every detail. But you weren't aware of this fact. You didn't even know that the family knew of each other, let alone the extent to which they kept track of your life.

His gaze is steady as he looks down at you. He seems to be analysing your movements, your expression. He's probably noticed your frustration, the way your shoulders are tense and your face slightly flushed.

His smirk is still in place, his head tilted to the side. Playing his thoughts off as if he was amused by your appearance and not that he’d been standing there the past half an hour waiting for you. Watching the blinking red dot as it turns around each corner on his phone intently. He takes a step towards you, closing the distance you tried to create.

"What are you doing out here? At this time of night no less. It’s not safe.” There was a dangerous undercurrent to his words, a hidden warning. But there was also a hint of concern in his eyes, whether he liked to admit it or not, he did care about you and your safety. He wasn't here to reprimand you or give you a lecture, although it would probably come afterwards. He just wanted answers.

You huff in resignation and look down at Bruce's shoes, finding solace in the simple task of staring at them. The sight of the expensive leather and polished toes seems almost absurd. How did it come to this?Standing on a cold, dark street, staring at the billionaire's feet, after running into him like a clumsy fool.

“... I’m sorry.” You’re not sure why you’re apologising. For running into him, or for being out, maybe...

Bruce is surprised by the apology that escapes your lips. He wasn't expecting you to feel guilty or to even address it. He remains standing a step away from you, watching you intently, waiting for an explanation.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his shoulders relaxing. His voice is lower, a subtle playful warning. "Apology accepted. But that doesn't answer my question."

He takes another step forward, trying to catch your gaze, but you're stubbornly keeping your eyes on his shoes.

He hums in thought, then holds out his larger hand. His expression softening. “Come on. It’s late. Let’s go get dinner, hm?”

A moment of surprise crosses your face at the sudden change of tone. From the firmness and authority to the gentleness and affection in his voice. He holds his hand out to you, his expression a little more tender than before, the hint of a smile on his lips.

He gently taps your chin with his knuckles, trying to get you to look at him. "Come on, I'm not going to bite."

You finally look up at Bruce, a small, ironic grin spreading across your face. Despite everything that's happened, despite the situation you're currently in, you can't help but find some slight humour in this unexpected encounter.

You've had more than your fair share of chance meetings with the billionaire, almost all of them have involved a cozy dinner or lunch together.

Bruce's smirk only deepens as he catches a glimpse of your grin. Despite the situation and the frustration that has been gnawing at you, he can't help but think it's adorable the way your expression changes. The perfect child, unaware of the dangers the rest of the family have to face to keep your wondrous innocence. It softens his heart slightly and makes him want to take care of you more.

"What's with that smile? It's like you're enjoying yourself." He quips, his voice a hint lower as he steps even closer, gently tapping your forehead this time.

You snort, squeezing the elder man’s hand in response. “Is that such a crime?”

He laughs softly at your response, shaking his head as he leads you towards a black limousine that's parked near the curb. The doors are opened by his chauffeur, Alfred. The man looking vaguely familiar to you, but you can’t put your finger on it.

Bruce motions for you to get inside before following suit, settling down on the luxurious leather seat next to you. The door closes and you’re engulfed in the comfortable silence of the car.

Bruce rests his arm on the headrest behind you, turning to look at you. “You didn’t answer my question. Why were you out so late?”

The interior of the limousine is as extravagant as you might expect. Soft leather seats, tinted windows, a mini-bar, and a small flat-screen TV. It's all very impressive and almost overwhelmingly luxurious.

Bruce's eyes are fixated on you, his gaze never wavering as you settle into the seat next to him. He waits patiently for an answer to his question, a knowing look in his eyes.

“Just... needed some air.” It’s not a complete lie.

He hums in acknowledgment, his eyes roaming over your face, trying to decipher whatever thoughts might be going through your head.

Instead, he simply shifts closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you gently against his side. The action is so natural and so like him that you just find yourself relaxing into the touch.

The arm around your shoulders feels warm and comforting. Somehow, despite your earlier frustration and anger, being tucked into his side makes you feel safe. The familiar smell of his cologne and the steady thump of his heart against your ear grounding you.

Bruce remains silent for a moment, just letting you sit there, feeling you relax against him. His fingers idly toy with a strand of your hair, gently brushing it back from your face.

His hand is warm and firm, a paternal, protective gesture. It's a feeling you've come to associate solely with him and him alone. It's never been an overtly affectionate gesture, but it's one that you've grown used to, one that you've come to appreciate.

You've never told him how much it means to you. How comforting it feels, like a silent reassurance.

You hated to admit it, but you missed this. This warmth, something you never got from your mother nor the countless men she’d have over.

You only ever got it from Bruce. So you can't help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. You missed this, the warmth and care that he naturally seemed to radiate. It was almost fatherly in a way, but you never dared to think of it like that. You didn’t want to overstep his boundaries. You’ve always assumed it's just a part of his nature, something he does for all the people in his life. You wouldn't dare to read too much into it.

“Where are we going?”

Bruce feels you relax against him, the tension leaving your body as you lean into his side. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He continues to toy with your hair, his fingers gently brushing through the strands as he responds to your question.

"I thought we could grab a bite to eat."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes shifting to look out of the tinted window. The night is silent, the city's lights a blur as the car glides smoothly through the streets.

“A buffet restaurant maybe?” It’s worded like a question, but he’s already booked out the place.

You nod against his side. Your hands fiddling with one another in your lap. “That sounds nice.”

No use of y/n, no descriptive features for the readers appearance, no gender mentioned.

Seriously please send in requests, they’re heavily appreciated🙏

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Incorrect Marauders Quotes

James: Mooooooooony Remus: I’m trying to fucking sleep, James James: Mooooooooonyyyyy :( Remus: *sighs* What? James: H-How do I know that there aren’t any monsters under my bed? Remus: For fuck’s sake James I have checked every night this week already James: Pleaseeeee Mooooonnyyyy :( Remus: I ALREADY TOLD YOU I CAN’T TRANSFORM INTO A WEREWOLF ON COMMAND Remus: I CAN’T CRAWL UNDER YOUR BED TO SCARE THEM AND MAKE THEM GO AWAY James: Moony :( Sirius: Remus: Fine okay but I still can’t transform

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part xiv

✧.* ..and then it happens, your world gets flipped upside down.

✧.* oh my god its happening, stay calm everyone! This is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream @dreamsarebig @for-our-moony @sadg3 @gaslysainz @goldenharrysworld @okqur

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4

tags continue in comments

[vacantfields]

It was a quiet night. The blue fake stars twinkling on the ceiling that Moon was staring at from where he laid. Which was in the lousy room that the Pizzaplex had given him and Sun. He could hear Sun talk with you down in the main daycare area. Moon sighed as he raised a clawed hand and let his fingers trace the shape of the stars that stared at him.

His mechanical mind often wandered back to when he first got his red eyes on you. Moon smiled at the memory as his finger still drew invisible lines in the air. Some would say it was you he drew, others would say scribbles, but to Moon, you were the stars, though everything changed once you and him got closer.

It had been a night shift where he wandered the halls from above on his wire that ran through the whole pizzaplex; his eyes had spotted you checking out the gift shop. Not Sun and his but the main one, and yet you were holding a plushie of him, Moon. He had moved closer without noticing it was as if he was in a trance. When he had gotten closer, he could see that you weren't just holding the plushie of him, you were dancing with it... with him. The soft music on your phone that rested on the counter lit up the room in gentle light. Moon had never been outside, but seeing this made it feel like he had seen the sun, moon, and stars. The quiet giggle you uttered as you swayed with the doll made his fans kick on, and he thanked your music for covering the sound. He wasn't proud of it, but Moon recorded the whole thing.

Moon never got caught by you. But sometimes, he wishes he had. Moon was shaken out of his memory diving, and he looked up from his resting place to see Sun towering over him with a wide smile. "Watching our star in your mind again, Moonbear?" His giggle was like jingling bells, which Moon adored as well he could feel himself softly grin.

"Of course, Sunflower. Did they leave?"

"Mhmm! You really should just go down and talk with them, Moonie. They're sweet!"

"Hm. No, I would probably scare them away. They were dancing with a plushie, Sunny. They would scared by the real one." His voice hoarse. It's how it always went, anyway.

Sun frowned, and Moon shrugged.

He would probably never actually talk with you. He didn't want to stain his fondest memory.

[empress-simps]

Can I request a fic with Remus (I love him), with a shy fem!reader girlfriend? House doesn’t really matter, but Hufflepuff might be fitting lol. She wants to meet his group of friends officially for the first time (she’s dating Remus and she hasn’t yet), but she’s too anxious despite trying to hype herself up for it? Maybe Remus comforts her

Darling, this is such a cute request! 🫶 Also, who doesn’t love Remus? We all do, no questions asked (I would do anything for him and Regulus). I absolutely love to write for this man, and I think Remus with a shy s/o is stinking cute. Thank you for requesting! 🫂 (Not edited so there may be grammatical errors or typos lurking around)

Loving Yellow and Black

Pairings: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader CW: Language and mentions of smoking.

In many ways, you were different from his friends.

You were polite, kind, and willing to help others- basically what everyone thinks of when they picture an ideal Hufflepuff student. Not saying that James, Sirius, and Peter were rude or anything like that, but there was just something gentle about you that Remus saw. As for them? They’re a rambunctious mess, a bit rough around the edges.

Remus found it quite charming, you try your best to blend in, be a wallflower so your student life at Hogwarts would be smooth sailing. Although, to Remus, no matter what you do, you stand out effortlessly. When he first expressed his interest in you, you were hesitant and cautious. You thought it was just one of the many other pranks that he and the other marauders had planned on other students.

“Go out with me, Y/n?” Remus asked nervously, after a week of him approaching and befriending you.

“Erm…” You looked around, making sure he was talking to you. “Are you talking to me?”

So, he did everything he could to make sure you know that he’s serious about you and that you won’t feel anything but that.

Slowly but surely, the hesitance and doubts started to go away as you got to know him better. You learned that he loves chocolates, his eyes would light up when you bring him chocolate frogs whenever you and your friends would go to Hogsmeade. His eyes having literal stars as he took in the sight of you, and how his laugh would make you smile as he whisks you away from your common rooms to hang out (snog) in the Astronomy tower and bringing you back just before the clock strikes twelve.

You bring out the best versions of yourself when you’re both with each other. Remus helps you to be a bit more adventurous, making you try things you never even thought of doing, such as sneaking out past curfew. Remus was your many firsts.

Remus found himself being more patient and calmer than before, maybe your nature rubbed off on him like how his rubbed off on you.

“Moony, are you smoking… you know?”

Remus nearly choked on his breakfast one morning. He turns to look at Sirius, eyes wide with shock. “Just why would you think that Padfoot?!” Sirius shrugged, putting his arms up as if he was surrendering. “Geez, just asking a question, don’t get your knickers in a twist, Moony.”

“I’m not smoking, or doing whatever you think I’m doing, you sod.”

Remus grumbles while James just laughed, “Alright, there’s our original Moony.”

“You seem calmer recently, Moons. We were just curious.” Peter shrugs, taking a bite out of his pancake, Remus raised his eyebrow. “Oh really?”

“Yeah, it was like you turned into a saint. You don’t even scold James and I anymore for our boxers strewn across the floor- “

“Hey! Shut it, what if Lily hears?!”

“Mind you, we are in the great hall eating breakfast, Padfoot.”

“I’m just saying!”

“Quiet down, people are looking.”

It was just a matter of time when your friends found out you’re dating Remus and managed to keep it under their noses for a few months.

“Y/n! How could you? We trusted you!” El, one of your friends shrieks dramatically, plopping down her bed, making you furrow your eyebrows. “Erm… is there something going on?”

“of course there is! Why did you keep it a secret?” She whined, pulling you next to her.

“Keep what a secret?”

“You and Lupin!”

“Oh, erm…” You trailed off, trying to fight the blush forming on your face. Your other friends started to tease you, “So it’s true!”

“Yes.” You confirmed with a nod, your hands over your face as a poor attempt to cover your blush.

“Alright, we need to know if the bloke is good enough to date our Y/n.”

It quickly became known to other students within your house that you were dating the witty marauder. Of course, this kind of news spreads like wildfire across Hogwarts; even reaching the three marauders who were in the dark with their Moony’s love life. They need to meet you as soon as possible and didn’t even let Remus have peace and quiet until he asked you if you were okay about it.

“So, they found out about us.” Remus bit his lip, looking nervously. You blinked, “Well, it was bound to happen, my friends were… vocal about it.” She chuckled as Remus cracked a grin.

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m guessing they want to meet me?”

Remus nodded, sighing. “Sorry angel. I tried to tell them- “

“It’s alright, honey. I figured it would be good after my friends also demanded you to meet them.”

To say that you were terrified would be an understatement; you felt like you were going to throw up in your shoes, break out in a cold sweat, or even stumble because damn it- your legs are shaking, as if you’re going to collapse under your own weight.

Well yeah, you were the one who kinda brought it up, but it still didn’t lessen the nerves you have. You wanted them to at least be civil towards you and to recognize your relationship with their friend. You were thinking of what outfit you should wear a week prior to the meeting, and you carefully planned out how you would respond to the possible questions they’d have. Call it over thinking, but you were just preparing for every single possible outcome.

“Alright, I can do this.” You chanted, looking at the mirror then at your watch, only 30 minutes before Remus arrives in the Hufflepuff common room. You checked your hair, smoothing it out as you checked yourself for the umpteenth time.

“Merlin, Y/n. You’re acting like you’re meeting the Prime Minister of Magic.” El commented, shaking her head. “You’ll be fine, if they don’t like you… then they better prepare themselves for a Hufflepuff’s wrath.”

Remus casts a glance worriedly at you, fixing your black and yellow scarf on your neck. “Darling, it isn’t that cold out, you don’t have to practically cover your face with it.” He chuckles, kissing your reddening cheeks as you huffed, “It would be a great help when I meet your friends.” Grinning, he pinched your cheeks, making you glare at him.

“They’ll love you. Don’t worry too much, yeah?” He whispers, before giving your forehead a kiss, at this point, Remus and the cold weather’s mission is to make you look like a tomato.

You gulped nervously, fiddling with the ends of the scarf. “But… I…”

To be honest, you are kind of expecting them to be disappointed when they meet you. A Hufflepuff girl, fairly average, wallflower, and a goody-two-shoes. Quite boring, in your opinion. Remus’s gaze hardened, as if scolding you. “I know what’s going on your pretty mind, darling. Just be yourself.” Squeezing your hand in his, you made your way to the Gryffindor Tower and to the dorm room he and his friends share.

“There you are, Moony!” James smiled as he opened the door to their room, his smile widening as he casts, a glance at you. “You must be Y/n! Come in!” He excitedly ushers both of you inside the room, you gave Remus’s hand a squeeze, he looks at you and squeezes back. You took a glance at their room, there was Sirius laying down lazily on his bed, Peter sitting on a random beanbag on their dorm room, and Lily sitting on her boyfriend’s bed, beaming a smile in which you returned; albeit a little more nervously.

“Any second further than that and I’d thought Moony was lying about finally getting a girl, isn’t that right, wormtail?” Sirius grinned, teasing Remus before standing up and giving you a hug. Which made you widen your eyes and stiff up, but recovering quickly to hug him back, pulling away after a few moments.

“Nice to meet you, love. I’m Sirius.”

You smiled shyly, “Nice to meet you too, I’m Y/n.”

“Remus, tell me again how’d you manage to get someone as gorgeous as she is?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Sod off, Pads.” Sirius just laughed, smiling as he looks at you and Remus together.

“Hi Y/n, I’m Peter. Nice to meet you.” Peter smiled politely, holding out his hand which you took, shaking it. “Nice to meet you too, Peter.”

Lily smiled, pointing at her boyfriend. “That one’s James! Don’t pay attention to him- “ cue a protest from James, who’s pouting  “-and I’m Lily, so glad there’s another girl in the group! They’re driving me crazy!” She practically bounced off her feet and hugged you, making you stumble, and Remus put a hand on your back to support you.

Okay, this wasn’t what you expected. Quite far actually.

Your heart fills with warmth as you allowed a smile to appear on your face, looking around, seeing how they felt so comfortable with you already. Sirius was busy bothering Peter, who shoos him away, complaining that he’s being annoying even when you’re with them. “Have you got any shame left with you, Padfoot?”

“Hm, last time I checked none.”

James was trying to get your opinion on how to pull off one of their pranks, and Lily scolding him not to drag you onto his shenanigans.

Remus pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around your waist, he whispers. “Welcome to the family, darling.”

[pulsarsatellite]

Clear Skies

The FINAL CHAPTER of Days of Laughs and Nights of Screams is now up to read on AO3!

You can read the last chapter here!

Chapter Snippet:

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[moonstruckme]

whimsical muggle reader who loves taking note of strange occurrences (i swear my shoes weren't here! like luna basically lol) and marauder bf who can't tell her yet about magic but loves doing some tricks for her to find. (you can pick which marauder! i was gonna go remus but i'm biased lol)

Omg I had so much fun with this, thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 657 words

“You’re such an old woman, Moony,” Sirius says. “Is that a gray hair I see?” 

“Your fault,” Remus replies mildly. 

“We’re not all obligated to go clubbing whenever the fancy strikes you,” James argues on Remus’ behalf. “I’ve got a match tomorrow, and our poor Moony’s head is hurting him. Give us a rest.” 

“No rest!” Sirius cries, standing from the couch as if he’s addressing a weary army rather than two reluctant men. “Rest is for the elderly and geriatric.” He looks at you hopefully. “You want to go out, don’t you darling?” 

“I’m not partial to clubs,” you reply, but your attention is already elsewhere. “Remus, if you have a headache, you should have Sirius make you some of his tea. He made me some when my head hurt last week and it set me right as rain.” You glance at your boyfriend, considering you with peculiar smugness. “And the same happened when I had the hiccups a few days ago. He has a remedy for everything.” 

James cocks an eyebrow. “Does he?” 

You hum in prideful affirmation, but Sirius seems almost sheepish as he sits back down on the couch, tucking you against his side. “I’ve always been good at brewing,” he says to James with a shrug. 

“You should make him your tea,” you urge softly. 

Sirius kisses the side of your head. “Moony’s headaches are a bit tougher than yours, angel,” he says, adding at your troubled look, “but I’ll make him some later if he likes.”

“Hey,” James says brightly, “what if we go to the pub on fifth? It’s usually quiet in there. We’ll just stay an hour or so.” 

You’ve been dating Sirius long enough to know how this goes with his friends—one hour will turn into four before any of them notice—but nod complaisantly at the hum of assent that goes up from the other boys. 

“Let’s go.” Sirius hops back up before anyone can change their minds. He grabs your coat from the hook by the door, holding it out for you. 

“Oh.” Your mood sinks slightly as you remember your coat. “I should probably go get another from my room. I tore that one yesterday, remember?” 

“I fixed it for you.” 

Sirius gives it a shake, signaling for you to take it from him. You do, looking at him in awe. 

“Really, Siri? That’s so nice of you.” You feel along the hem of your jacket in search of the split you’d made the day before. You can’t find it, nor any of the smaller blemishes the garment had acquired after years of wear. “How did you do this?” 

“I sewed it,” he says breezily, shrugging on his own well-loved leather coat. 

You run your fingers over where you could swear the tear had been. “There’s not even a line or anything.” 

Remus shoots him a look you can’t decipher, and Sirius gives you a somewhat thin-lipped smile. “What can I say? I’m magic with a needle and thread. Put your coat on, baby.” 

You realize then that all three boys are already waiting for you at the door. 

“Oh, sorry.” You carefully pull on your newly impeccable jacket, following them outside. “Thank you, Siri.” 

“Anytime,” he vows, hand finding its way into your back pocket as James leads you all to the pub. 

“You’re so good at fixing things,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “My coat, and when you glued my mug back together so well, and when my peperomia came back to life.” 

Sirius chuckles. “It didn’t come back to life, angel.”

“It was dying,” you reason. “I couldn’t get it to stop wilting, but then all of a sudden it perked up.” 

“You must’ve nursed it back to health,” he replies, and his tone is blasé but the smile he shoots you is oddly pleased. He gives your ass a playful squeeze. “Stranger things have happened, sweet thing.” 

Around Sirius, they certainly have.

[thesweetestofdreams]

a date at the pumpkin patch.

pairings: poly!marauders x reader (820 words)

warnings: should be none, just a fall date with the boys

a/n: I couldn't let the idea of walking through a fall fair with the marauders, so please enjoy a seasonal fall treat. P.S. If you so happen to have any requests or ideas I'd love the chance to write some for you

Fall leaves crinkled underfoot as you walked through the dirt path of the pumpkin patch. A local affair of corn mazes and caramel apples that you'd looked forward to all year. "I want to find the biggest one. I mean almost too big to carry," James said, arms spread wide to emphasize his declaration.

"You do realize you'd have to find a way to bring it home, Prongs." Sirius said, hand lazily intertwined with James's as it swung with his movement. 

"And all the way up the stairs" you added. 

"How about a regular pumpkin, one that won't swallow our entire flat?" Remus tried, ever the voice of wisdom, but James just waved away all of your comments. 

"Found it," James said, gesturing to the massive pumpkin sitting in front of the four of you as you turned. It was a part of the pumpkin growing contest and it most certainly wouldn't fit through the doorway to your home. 

"If you can pick it up then you can bring it home," Sirius joked. Remus sent him a half serious "no he can't" glare. 

"Do you think they'd let me?" James asked, looking around for the owner of the gigantic beast of a pumpkin. 

"Surely not," you mused. The mood of the evening had you walking an autumn high. Everything smelled like it was sprinkled with cinnamon through a fresh wind. It bit at your cheeks and chapped your lips, but you didn't care. You were with your boys in an orange wonderland, everything painted gold by the slowly sinking sun.

You slid into James's side, settling next to your living furnace. 

"Are you cold, dove?" Remus looked at you scanning you up and down like he was looking for the cold sticking onto you somewhere. 

James squeezed you into him. "We can go home if you want," he said, pumpkin forgotten and concern wrinkling his brow. 

"No no, the haunted corn maze starts at sundown. Sirius has been looking forward to it all day." 

"Don't worry about it doll," Sirius said ready to pack up the car in a moments notice. Your boyfriends with all their love could be a bit overconcerned. 

"I'm okay promise. Especially next to James," you said feeling warmer by the second. 

"Okay well if you do want to go just say the word," Remus said. 

"We won't let her freeze Moony," Sirius said patting a hand to Remus's chest. "I'll show you."

Part of you thought he might come kiss you. He always joked at the heat coming from your cheeks when he did. It stroked his ego too much but you couldn't help it. Instead he guided you all to a small booth. Paper cups full of amber cider sat in lines pouring tiny plooms of steam into the air. Sirius bought three ciders and one hot chocolate for Remus. 

"And here I thought you were going to kiss me," you said as he passed you the cup. He halted it in front of you not giving it up. 

"And who said this was free hmm." He cocked his head to one side, smug as you smiled. 

"Not a fair trade," you said even as you leant in for his waiting kiss. 

He pressed cold knuckles to your cheek. "She's fine." You took the cider feeling the hot cup make quick work on your numbing fingers. 

James downed his cider far too quickly and denied any accusations of burning his mouth. As you made your way towards the haunted maze he confided to you that he did indeed burn himself. If only there were someone that could kiss it better he whispered into your ear. 

The sun set and James and Sirius went into the haunted maze. 

You and Remus sat together on a bench nestled against the fiery gold treeline. "You would tell us if you wanted to go home right?" Remus asked, rolling his hot chocolate cup in his hands. 

"Of course Rem," you said. It was true. "But why would I want to go home? This feels like a dream." You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling like you were exactly where you needed to be. 

"A good dream." He nodded, you felt it ruffle your hair.

Sirius and James would soon come and join you insisting it was too cold to stay any longer. The two would deny it later, claiming the maze wasn't at all scary enough, but you swore you heard them scream a few times. 

The four of you went home with three small pumpkins and one James-approved larger pumpkin. The rest of the night was spent with warm blankets and old movies you'd all seen a hundred times over. You fell asleep lazily untangling the knots in Sirius's hair.