#imagine if I put Lupin in the argument…

[halfblood-princes-crown]

Hello I have some outside perspectives to the “Is Snape an abusive teacher” argument.

So, I work with middle aged people who have kids of their own, and none of them have ever touched Harry Potter. At all.

I laid out a scenario for them of two teachers. One teacher was Snape and the other was McGonagall. Mr. S and Ms. M

I laid out how Mr. S is mean and verbally rude to the students. I gave examples of some of the things he said, such as threatening a students pet and making a joke about a students physical appearance.

The response to these things was:

My boss: oh, I’d never call for a teacher-parent conference so fast. What warrants a comment like that?

My fav coworker: He said something about a girls teeth? I’m not a violent person but I’d make his teeth look much worse if that was my daughter haha

Next, I laid out Ms. M and how she told a student in front of his class that he was useless, sent three children into an area that was extremely dangerous as a punishment, then locked a student out of the class when there was presumably a school shooter around.

The responses were:

My boss: I’d go to prison! What the fuck? This school sounds like it has a problem with verbal abuse overall, but to actually put my child in physical danger is another level. Anyone who can confidently put a child in danger like that needs to be under a prison

My fav coworker: Mr. S suddenly looks tolerable…so wait, how dangerous is this area she sent them? Like dead body dangerous? (Yes) Oh, yea, I’m joining him in the prison she’s under HAHA WHAT oh my god…

At this point in the conversation, another woman walked in. She’s definitely a grandmother, and they told her the scenario. She basically said Ms. M needs to be investigated. Talking shit and doing shit are two different things, and Ms. M could be thrown in jail for the bull she’s pulling. I actually hate this lady but she ate down right there

The conversation quickly forgot about Mr. S.

Counter arguments would ask if I laid out Mr. S backstory. I ended up revealing that I was talking about HP and I laid down the Snape lore in full. I’m telling you now, they didn’t give a damn. In their eyes it’s like…Ok he’s obviously not mentally fit to be a teacher, but he’s doing it out of a promise to protect a kid, which he succeeded at doing, and he wasn’t the one putting a kid in physical danger, he was putting HIMSELF in danger. It solidified their opinion when I said he died saving everyone.

Parents for Snape💪🏽

I think I want to show them snater arguments next to see how they respond to those. It wouldn’t be fair if I only gave them pro Snape arguments (although I laid everything out in full and they easily could have came for Snapes neck), so I want to see if they agree with anything from anti Snape arguments. They seemed invested enough.

The only thing “anti Snape” they seemed to agree with is that he was dead wrong for joining DEs, but I think we all agree on that. Duh.

[luveline]

jadey you write poly marauders in such a special way it feels so realistic i love it so much 🥹 how do you think it would go if reader and one of them get into a fight/argument? like how would it affect the overall dynamic? (if this inspires anything pls go for it 💕💕💕)

thank you for requesting! fem

Remus lays with his head on your shoulder, but he’s not happy about it. James and Sirius aren’t subtle. They’d forced the two of you together and yes, Remus has missed you, but he doesn’t want to speak to you and he’s sure you’re feeling the same. 

You have put your hand atop his, not holding but resting there. He might be forgiven. He hopes he’s forgiven, but he doesn’t forgive you, so. 

James has made Remus’ favourite popcorn, freshly popped and doused in butter and caramel he made himself with sugar over the hob. Remus takes great grateful handfuls, given the added benefit of James’ smug smiling. Each piece he eats is like James’ receiving a job well done, and Potter’s can’t help but preen. 

Sirius sneaks bits of it over you. You don’t eat any, pointedly, your leg on Sirius’ knee and your foot wagging constantly. Restless. Annoyed. 

“Will you be angry with each other forever?” Sirius asks. 

“Sirius.”  

“What? I’m just asking.” 

“You’re being abrupt,” James says. 

Remus sighs until they both stop talking. He doesn’t know how long you’ll be angry with one another. For him it seems to come and go, and it doesn’t always help that James is neutral about it while Sirius’ loudly complains that you’re not yet over it after a frosty weekend. He wishes one of them would’ve backed him up, but then, he can’t imagine how that would feel for you. It’s not like he wants you to be upset. It’s just an unfortunate consequence of the whole thing. 

You’d cried when you argued but you’d been angry, too, quipping at him with a sharp tongue, not afraid to say what you’d felt, just overwhelmed enough to come to tears. They weren’t, you know, devastated tears or anything, but Remus had felt a pit open where his stomach was supposed to be as Sirius (Sirius, and not James, which felt important at the time) curled his arm around you and encouraged you to take a breather. 

James had stayed, giving Remus a good hug as he’d murmured, “That got too heated, huh? You okay?” 

Remus gets weird about James. About all of you, but James had been his first crush, so sometimes he feels rather daunted in the face of his affection. James likes that he can make Remus blush, but nobody’s acted very fond these last few days. It’s weird. It’s all off. The love is still there, but it’s like everyone’s afraid of showing it. 

You argued about something Remus said, and you misunderstood, and then something you said and Remus understood very well. Never the end of the world, but Remus is stubborn. He shouldn’t be. 

Remus turns his hand slowly under yours. To his relief, you let him do it, sliding your fingers between his. 

He lifts his head a touch. You don’t look at him. Sirius grins from the other side of you, and Remus ignores him. 

You slip further down into the sofa, Remus going with you, the whole group of you tired from a weekend on eggshells. 

Having seemed rather far away for the afternoon, you begin to relax. You force Remus’ head up to tuck yourself into his neck. When the movie ramps into a loud scene of gunshots and high speed car chase, you lift your lips to his ear and say, “I’m sorry, Lupin, but don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” 

He’d bristle if you didn’t sound teasing. Remus squeezes your hand, turns to see your face, and whispers back. “I’ll talk to you any way I like.” You huff a laugh. He’s so pleased to see a smile on your face that his resentment drains away completely. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. 

You nod at him. You accept his apology as he’d taken yours. An hour of being sat arm to arm and a half hour of hand-holding has reminded you both how much you really, really like the other. 

“Can we kiss and make up?” James asks. 

“I think that’s usually saved for the arguing parties,” Remus says. 

“We can argue, if you like,” you tell James. 

“Shall we?” James asks. 

Sirius argues with Remus once a week at least —nothing serious— and he knows the potency of a rough makeup kiss, sending him a knowing, inviting smile. “We can argue, Moony,” he says. 

Remus hugs you with one arm. “I’ve had enough arguing. I’m never doing it again.” 

“Good. I’m very tired, playing peacekeeper and all,” James says, slouching away from everyone. “Exhausted, even.” 

“What shall we do to make it up for him?” Remus asks you, having quickly descended into sickly sweetness, a murmur pressed into your cheek. 

“What does he want?” 

“What do you want, James?” 

James sits up. “Well, it wasn’t just me, you know. Sirius has been comic relief two days running. He’s not usually this funny otherwise.” 

“I resent that.” 

“Luckily for you both, there’s two of us,” Remus says.

You laugh, because you know what Sirius will say before he says it. “No!” you say, lifting a foot to kick at his leg. 

“Don’t be so rude,” Sirius says, grabbing you by the ankle. 

James decides you’ll celebrate with a takeaway and Sirius decides he’ll pick which one for being so diligently well-behaved this weekend, leaving you and Remus alone for the first time all day. Things feel a bit more raw, less soothed, but not bad. Remus peels away from you to look at you properly. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” 

“I’m okay if you are.” 

Remus taps your under the jaw, a little to the left, encouraging you to turn your head. He kisses you on the cheek. 

In the kitchen, James and Sirius giggle like school kids. Somebody gets a good whack in with a tea towel, and the other shrieks. “You thing!” Sirius says. 

Remus feels your side shake with laughter.

[saintsenara]

Thoughts on remadora?

thank you very much for the asks, anons!

while they are by no means my otp, i really enjoy remadora as pairing - and i think they’re fully up there among the canon couples in terms of being an amazing vehicle through which to explore all sorts of questions about life and love - which i am aware is a sufficiently controversial statement that it involves an immediate engagement with some discourse…

because remadora girlies [gender neutral] get an enormous amount of shit within the fandom, particularly from fans who consider wolfstar to be a more plausible pairing for lupin than tonks. i have seen remadora shippers called homophobes for simply enjoying the couple, justified with the bizarre idea that it disrespects remus' relationship with sirius [so... the non-canon one?] to put them together. i have seen tonks turned into a pathetic shrew who is trying to keep remus from the real love of his life by trapping him with an unwanted baby. i have seen remadora shippers get a lot of the usual stuff that people who prefer the canon-endgame couples do [that to ship a canon pair is boring, that it is indicative of a lack of talent, that it indicates an uncritical support for jkr] magnified to eleven because tonks has the temerity to be a barrier to remus’ relationship with the fandom’s favourite hot and brooding man.

obviously, this is bullshit - primarily because its unreasonable and cruel to invest so much time and energy being mean to people because of their harry potter shipping preferences [fandom should never be that deep].

but it’s also a disappointment to me personally because it means that it can be very hard to find the sort of remadora i like without looking like i’m coming to contribute to the pile-on. because where many remadora fans and i don’t see eye-to-eye is that i have absolutely no interest in thinking about them as a relationship which is actually functional. and, all too often, i find myself sifting through fics which do prefer to interpret them like this - as romantic and passionate and stable - largely, i think it’s fair to say, as a defensive move against the tide of “urgh, imagine shipping that” nonsense - even though all the evidence of canon is that they are… very much not.

i am aware of the pottermore article which smoothes the edges of lupin’s canonical reaction to tonks’ feelings for him in half-blood prince - but, while i read this as something of a retcon to make the relationship more palatable, i also don’t think that assuming that both tonks and lupin’s attraction to each other was sincere precludes them being as dysfunctional as they canonically are. i don’t go in for the common anti-remadora argument that tonks “forces” him into a relationship with her - it’s clear in half-blood prince that it’s not only her who has discussed her feelings with molly and arthur weasley, lupin is definitely flirting with her when they pick harry up in order of the phoenix, lupin is an adult man [no matter other power imbalances between him and tonks - such as the fact that she is an agent of the state which oppresses him] who possesses the capacity to refuse her advances, and - since teddy’s conception is not immaculate - he has no issue with enjoying a sexual relationship with her even if he then wants to run away from the product of that.

instead, what i like with remadora is that they reveal something which goes against the grain of the rest of the series: that love is not always enough. throughout the seven-book canon, we see time and time again the idea that love - and, crucially, love-as-noble-suffering and love-as-sacrifice - is enough to overcome any problem. entire civil service collaborating with a terrorist regime? don’t trouble yourself, love has won. your mother dying in childbirth leaving you to be neglected in a state institution? your own fault you’re not interested in love.

i understand the genre reasons for this, but i also love the way in which lupin especially exists on the margins of these genre conventions [just as he exists on the margins of wizarding society!]. i’m always struck in deathly hallows that he’s the only person who’s actually realistic about the demands of war - particularly when he tells harry that it is breathtakingly naive for him to think he can get through the fighting without having to shoot to kill - and that part of him having to be shuffled out of the way when harry tells him to return to the pregnant tonks is because, were the story focused on realism, the idea of a wanted man who is considered an unhuman by the state fleeing in order to guarantee the safety of his wife and unborn child becomes eminently reasonable and harry's defense of the nuclear family embarrassingly unradical.

and so i like the idea of lupin seeing tonks - and tonks seeing lupin - initially as just a bit of fun, as the two of them being just two chill single people who think the other is hot and interesting and want to bang because of it.

[which is something fandoms in general really struggle with as a concept. we like epic love stories - and you won't find me objecting to that! - but we're less good at thinking about casual sexual attraction or transient friendships, and how these can be transformative and meaningful without having to end up going any sort of distance.]

and i then like the idea of the relationship being forced into a profundity it doesn’t really have the juice to sustain by the sheer avalanche of grief which besets the two of them - sirius, dumbledore, mad-eye, ted - and by the pressure of the war and the fact that the order is scrambling and the hangover of remus' self-destruction in half-blood prince which makes each cling to the other as a life-raft. i like remadora as something codependent and messy and strange and sad, and i don’t think this prevents it being sincere and fun and based in mutual attraction, but instead that these positive qualities can exist in conjunction with the fact that, without the war, it would have been a summer of fucking and that was probably it.

on tonks herself, i don’t think i can say it better than @evesaintyves in this meta on her character. i’ve been really uncomfortable with quite a lot of stuff i’ve seen recently which has taken against the idea that tonks can be meaningfully read as queer on the basis of what we find in the text, above all because it so often comes with the implication that one cannot imagine her in her canon endgame pairing and presume that she’s something other than straight or cisgender. eve sets out an excellent case for tonks as bolshy and liberated and in tune with herself and fun and confused and in flux and still figuring stuff out about who she is and where she’s going - and this translates, may i say, to an astonishingly beautiful way of writing her, lupin, and the dysfunction inherent between them which i highly recommend you read.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober 8

8. Sex Pollen/Fuck or Die, Chastity, Sexual Competition

You are going to die.

It didn’t take that first time, almost two thousand years ago when they hammered you up, but now? In this bed? Oh, this is it. You’re going to cum to death.

“One more, nightingale.”

“I can’t,” you choke. The tears have been dry for a long time, you simply have no more left in you. Now you’re just exhausted. The apex of your legs felt like it was on fire three orgasms ago and now you’re at a grand total of eight - four from each of them.

They can be utterly petty when it comes down to brass tacks. Your boys started getting under each other’s skin over something small, which turned into an argument, which turned into something they wanted to rope you into. And that became “which first time did you prefer?”

You cannot answer that question. To compare them is to compare apples to oranges, and you want a whole fruit salad. Making love to them both is so utterly different you couldn’t begin to pull at threads because it’s always better together.

They didn’t accept that answer, though. So they took you to bed.

They’ve taken turns fucking you. You’re so full of come there’s no chance of it staying inside you, now. Your hole is fucked-out and pliant, your lovers’ spend dripping from it in a sinful cocktail. Their mouths, fingers, cocks, cunts - all of them have made you come as they shift into whatever the next challenge is.

You’re boneless. You’re exhausted. You’re sure you’ve been taken in every possible way on this bed, all angles, all positions, and you can’t do it any more. You’re not certain if it was Aziraphale holding you up against the wall and pistoning into you that did it, that sex-filled slap of skin on skin; or if it was Crowley pressing his pussy down onto your face while he took deep mouthfuls of your sex which definitely already tasted like both him and the angel.

As Aziraphale moves to put his hand between your legs one more time you hiss and push him away. He immediately retreats.

“Darling?”

“No more!” you cry, throat raw from fucking and moaning. “No more. I’m done.”

And then you can cry again, and suddenly they’re either side of you, not to rut but to comfort. Aziraphale catches your hand and presses soft, feather-light kisses to it, Crowley caressing your face. A glass of water is summoned and they help you drink it, a cold washcloth pressed to your sex. You hiss and then relax as it begins to cool you down.

“We’re sorry, nightingale,” Crowley whispers, yellow eyes full of concern and care. You wave it off.

“Don’t apologise to me. I’ll be fine. Apologise to each other for being so silly. If you’re going to give me eight orgasms again I’d much prefer they were collaborative,” you say, laughing huskily. And it’s true. All is forgiven on your part; if you tap out they’ll listen. Crowley and Aziraphale lock eyes across the plains of you, the remnants of their lovemaking.

“I’m sorry, angel.”

“I’m sorry, Crowley.”

They kiss, long and slow and sincere, and you smile.

“There we go,” you hum, bringing them both to your chest to hold them tightly. “I like fruit salad.”

“What?”

“Mmm, nothing.”

@bootlmoth @elleofdragons  @angelic-anarchy27 @yeethaw13 @candlewitch-cryptic @kwyn-q @rat-that-writes @buryustogether @letthenightingalessingagain @ltlthetrifecta @angiestopit @purplefrog1sblog @wereallbrokenangels @angelspathway @clarina04 @belilwen @chaospossum @eightsdoctor @oo-delallymrcrow @silcosmoke @climbingivy97 @live-logs-and-proper @project-sad @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @imagination-phantom @anonymously35 @corgis04 @peytonpenguin37 @catlynharper @unabashedgentlemenpirate @wolfe-houler @darktealrat @mxxny-lupin @willbedecided @detectiveapparatiagreen @shadowluna25 @kaylinelizabeth4004 @xquinn-bartonx @blue-bell22 @foolishprincipalitee @fandomawesomeness @eweweweewewe @latersgaters-steven @llamaproblem @night-affiliate @randompost18 @hunterispunk @jessica-laufeysdottir @uxcaran @bunnymallowo @jae-michael @jelly-terror @larkiesparkie

[luv4-liv]

❝Take the stress out of you.❞

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Warnings: SMUT. +18. First time. Unprotected sex. Obscenity. He angry. Spanking. Marks on the neck.

Summary: Lola and Remus had an arranged marriage, although he was in love with her. Eventually, she also falls in love and decides to prove her love.

The plot of this One Shot is totally mine and my imagination.

You can find it in Spanish on my wattpad account (piscessbabyy)

Remember that English is not my language so it may contain several errors, please be patient with me

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Time had passed, both were closer. Things had improved financially, and they were comfortable, both of them.

Lola had given it a lot of thought, but finally made up her mind. They had been married for months, it wasn't a bad thing.

She saw the time and after taking a shower, she hurried over there.

After passing by that store, and somewhat embarrassed, ordering what she needed, she hurried home, before her husband arrived.

She had bought red lace underwear. It wasn't something very 'WOW' but she had seen Remus slyly looking at those garments, every time they passed by the store.

And a few days ago, Lola had worn a red blouse, for nothing special, and he was quick to tell her that the color suited her very well.

He liked seeing that color on her.

And from there, the lacy red underwear.

As soon as she entered her house, she ran into the bedroom taking the garments out, changed and put her normal clothes back on.

She felt the sound of the door and quickly hid the bag in the closet.

She left the room as normal as possible, due to her nerves, and went to the living room, running into Lupin.

"Remus?" he looked at her.

"Hello," he said dryly.

He left his coat on the couch and headed for the bedroom, followed by his wife.

As they entered, he sat on the bed, running his hands over his face and then his hair in frustration.

"Are you okay?" she dared to speak again.

"Yes.." he replied more calmly, realizing he had answered somewhat curtly earlier.

"What do you want to eat..?"

"I don't want dinner today, honey. Thank you.."

"Did something happen?" she said, still standing by the door, watching him.

He denied, but then thought about it some more.

"It's just that I had an argument with a co-worker at work, and I got really mad at his attitude." he spoke still with his hands on his head, looking at the floor.

Then she saw the opportunity.

"I think I know a way to take your stress away.." she caught his attention, causing him to now look at her.

Lola, her hands a little shaky for whatever her reaction would be, began to pull her blouse off, exposing her lacy bra.

Remus dropped his gaze from her eyes, to lower his gaze to that garment.

She half-opened her lips, but then denied.

"I'm kind of angry, cutie, I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm at your beck and call, Remus, anything that comes from you will make me feel good."

And that was enough for him to get up and slam her against the wall.

He moved his wife's hair to one side, to start kissing her neck.

The girl's moans were getting on his nerves, and he was sure he couldn't take much more.

He gave a little tap on the back of her thighs, to which Lola understood, he lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He walked to the bed, leaving her on it, and climbing on top of Lola, without crushing her.

"I love the way that color looks on you."

"I know." she gasped.

He quickly unclasped her bra and went straight to kissing her breasts.

He left a big mark, and smiled.

Lola bit her lip to hold back her little cries, which her husband noticed.

With one hand, Lupin squeezed his girl's neck, without hurting her.

"I want to hear you, don't be quiet."

He continued his task on her breasts, and when both were erect, Remus roughly pulled down his wife's skirt.

Next, unable to wait any longer, he ripped the panties off.

"Hey, they were expensive."

"I can buy you a lot more, if when I get home from work, you'll greet me like this more often." he spoke before kissing her

She gasped in between the kiss, as she felt Remus run a finger across her womanhood, feeling her wetness.

And her moans became even more intense, as Remus began to make circles on her clit.

He was being a little rough, and it was driving her crazy.

Lupin moved his hand away, and Lola was about to moan, until she heard the sound of a zipper, and then Remus's pants drop.

Seconds later, she felt Remus' member, brushing against her womanhood. She moaned at the surprise and closed her eyes, enjoying the contact.

He moved his member up and down, from her clit to her entrance, spreading her wetness.

Remus smiled at the image of his girl enjoying his touch. He never thought he could have her like this, willing to him in such a way.

Lola began to moan unconsciously, the touch was no longer enough for her, and really, not enough for him either.

Without warning, he entered her all at once. Lola moaned loudly and grabbed her husband by the shoulders.

He didn't wait and began to move at a pleasurable speed for both of them.

After a few minutes, he had had enough, he needed to vent his anger.

He grabbed her by the hips and began to penetrate her roughly, causing the moans to get louder.

They were both aware that tomorrow they were going to get complaints from the neighbors if they passed them.

They had no idea how long they had been like this, but in a moment, Remus found the girl's weakest point.

He smiled at that and began to strike deeper into that spot.

When she dug her nails into his shoulders, he responded with a hard spank, she was sure she would get a mark, and it didn't bother him at all.

Their onslaught was beginning to become unbridled, both were about to release the knot of pleasure they were holding back.

Soon after, they reached their orgasm together, but Remus's thrusts would not stop.

That tortured her from the overflow of pleasure, due to her sensitivity from her recent orgasm.

She moaned and to him it was the best thing he had ever heard in his life.

Remus was slowing down. He left one last mark on Lola's neck, and seconds later, he pulled out of her.

They were both lying on the bed, somewhat shaken and tired.

Remus wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, noting all the hickeys he had left.

"We should do this more often.."

"Anytime you want, love." he replied, running his fingers over each of the marks.

They were so amused with each other, they didn't even notice the missing condom, until the other day.

But well, that's another story....

[autistpride]

Autism Acceptance

Prompt 8: Bodyswap AU

Word count: 2065

@wolfstarmicrofic

Cw: for the R slur, bullying, harassment physical and verbal assault.

“Oh look, it's loony Lupin,” Sirius called out as Remus walked into the potions classroom.

“Look, I'm Loony Lupin and I’m retarded. Dur dur dur,” Sirius added, bending his wrists and smacking his chest with his limp hands. The other students laughed, some of them copying Sirius’ motions and sounds.

Remus bit his lip and tucked his chin to his chest as he pushed through the students and to his desk at the front of the room near Professor Slughorn. Remus sat down and slowly pulled out his things. On his desk was a parchment already written on. The notes from the board carefully scrawled onto the page in Professor McGonagall’s neat handwriting. The muggle pen and lined notebook paper he was allowed to use instead of the quill and parchment came out first and was quickly followed by his headphones.

“Oh look Lupin has his ear defenders. Saving his poor ears from the silence of the classroom.” Sirius said in a mocking tone.

Remus didn't respond and instead put his headphones on, wrote the course, “advanced potions” and the date at the top of his paper, and then set his pen down before reading over the notes.

Slughorn entered the room and told the class to settle down and take their seats. Remus gasped when his sternum slammed into the table. He glanced over his shoulder to see Sirius sitting directly behind him, feet on the back of his chair, pushing him into the edge of the table. Remus knew from experience that if he touched Sirius and tried to get him to put his feet down, Sirius would complain to his head of house that Remus was hitting him and Remus would get excused to the headmasters office. No one ever believed Remus wouldn’t actually hit someone. Everyone just saw a boy who didn’t talk and assumed he would lash out in physical violence when upset.

The class began and Remus worked hard on his potion, Slughorn occasionally hovered and guided Remus, but for the most part Remus completed the assignment on his own. He was so proud of his Polyjuice potion and knew it was perfect.

“Alright class, stopper your potions and let me have a look.” Slughorn announced and Remus set about doing just that. When he had placed his at the front of his table like everyone else's, Slughorn looked up at the class, nodded, and then grinned. “Excellent idea!” he boomed which caused Remus to jump. He didn’t hear what was said and was now confused. He looked up and slightly around to try to figure out what had happened. “We will test the potions with a partner. Each of you will pair up and test your partners brew but with the hairs of your partner. Should make for an interesting lunch period.” Slughorn laughed as if he had just said the funniest thing he could imagine.

Remus thought otherwise and froze, dread seeping into him. He didn’t want to test his potion with these students. If it had been with Lily or Mary he would, but not with this group. He swallowed hard and clenched his hands on his trousers as he heard the class start to pair up.

“Sucks for whoever has to partner with Loony Lupin,” Sirius said with a smug tone.

“Actually, Mr. Black, since both of you get the highest marks in my class I would like you both to pair up for this assignment,” Slughorn said offhandedly.

Sirius gaped and sputtered but Slughorn waved off his arguments and Remus was soon faced with one Sirius Black standing over him.

“Let’s get this over with Loony.” He said in an acidic tone.

Remus didn’t make any attempt to move and Sirius scoffed before reaching out and yanking some of Remus’ hairs from his head. Remus cried out and his hand flew to the spot Sirius had pulled from. Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes and then pulled a single stand of his own head. He opened his vial and then Remus’ and inserted the hairs into it. The potion bubbled for a moment and then settled. Sirius picked up his vial and shoved it into Remus’ hand. “I won't have a poor grade because you refuse to work. So open up and drink it on your own or I'll force it down your throat.”

Remus took the vial and swallowed before tipping it back and swallowing the mouthful of liquid. Sirius picked up Remus’ vial and did the same.

Remus gagged and almost vomited but kept it down. All at once, the lights dimmed and the sounds stopped. The colours were less vibrant and his clothes weren’t too tight and itchy. His skin didn’t feel like ants crawled over it. He was glad that Sirius was a similar size as him or else he would have to change clothes with the mean kid. He looked up and saw his own face and the wide eyes staring back at him. Remus sighed. Part of him wanted to give Sirius a taste of his own medicine but he knew that was wrong. He was a bigger and better person than Sirius and he knew Sirius would experience that enough in the next hour as Remus and Remus didn’t need to make it worse. So Remus packed up his materials, cleaned up his potions stuff, and left the classroom. He would spend the lunch hour in the library as he usually did.

Sirius told himself it would be fine, but when he swallowed the potion he swore he was going to hurl. The rolling feeling in his stomach didn’t end when the potion transformed him into Remus and he stood staring at himself. Instead it changed to a dull ache in the pit of his stomach. Sirius noticed Remus started to pack up and returned to his table to do the same, shouldering his back and strutting out of the classroom towards the Great Hall like he always did.

Sirius hadn’t been prepared for the sensory hell that was lunch. The lights from the candles, the windows, and the artificial sun in the ceiling beamed light so bright Sirius’ eyes watered and he turned his head this way and that to try to avoid it. No matter which way he turned it was in his eyes, blinding him. The metal utensils on the glass dishes made the most high pitch noise and the sounds of everyone chewing was obscene. He could hear the lips smacking and the wet noise of peoples mouths. He looked down the table at someone and gagged at the sight of the food rolling around in their open mouth as they chewed. Sirius made himself a plate of all his favourites. The first bite of the fruit was too sour, the next too sweet, and the third bitter. Why? It was fruit, it was supposed to have the same taste each time! So Sirius ate some pasta, but the noodles were slimy and seemed soggy. He groaned and ate some mashed potatoes and crackers, because those seemed safe. He was rewarded with the same taste and texture each time and sighed in relief.

“What the hell are you doing here stupid?” James asked, smacking Sirius in the back of the head.

Sirius looked up glaring and pushed James away from him. He tried to yell at James, but the words caught in his throat. He tried again and again but James just stared at him and then started to laugh before making exaggerated grunting noises and crossing his eyes.

“Potter!” Lily Evans screeched from across the Great Hall, “you leave him alone right now!”

“He started it, he hit me!” James yelled back, pointing an accusing finger at Sirius.

Sirius made a protest, to explain that James was who started it, when again nothing came out. He stared at James in horror and then turned to Lily who was storming down the aisle and pushed James away.

“Go away Potter. Go find Black or something. Leave Remus alone.”

Sirius was never so grateful to see his best friend leave than at that moment. He felt the tears prickle in his eyes and swiped at them.

Lily sat down and gently pet Sirius’ hand and asked where his headphones were. Sirius couldn't reply, just finished eating his potatoes and slipped from the Great Hall. Sirius would try to avoid the other students until the potion wore off, wandering the corridors. Sirius should have never assumed he could do that. The castle was full of students on an hour-long lunch break. They were everywhere. Between the blinding lights, the too bright colours, all the voices talking and laughing, there were subtle things that were starting to get to sirius. Everyone wore too much body spray, especially when he passed the locker rooms. The smell hit Sirius like a massive wave causing Sirius to cough and choke. The sound of the creaking and groaning of the stairs moving and the high pitch whine of the portraits and doors opening and closing made Sirius’ teeth hurt. But the worst thing was the way everyone either stared at him, made faces or the hand motion he did earlier that day, or the few that outright tried to trip him.

When he rounded a corner and came face to face with James and Peter. He tried to turn around but was too slow. Peter grinned and tripped him, James laughed and clapped Peter on the back and they both strode over to him before James spelled him upside down by his ankle. He flailed and struggled against the hold, but his screams fell silent. He screamed and cried and tried to escape to no avail.

He hadn’t realised he had wandered outside the library until he saw himself standing in the doorway staring back at him from behind his two best friends.

He pleaded with his eyes for help and Remus crossed his arms over his chest in defiance before his wand appeared and was pointed at Sirius. Sirius knew at that moment that this was Remus’ revenge. This was how Remus showed Sirius what an absolute prick he had been. He deflated, resigned to whatever jinxes or curses Remus would throw at him. No one was more surprised than Sirius was when Remus spoke in his voice softly the counter jinx, lowering Sirius to the ground carefully before putting up a shield around him to keep him safe from James and Peter's spells.

The two boys looked over at Remus with surprise and then parted, thinking that Sirius just wanted a part of the action. The looks of confusion took hold when Remus carefully placed his headphones over Sirius’ ears and offered Sirius a small tentative smile and held up his two hands.

“I'm sorry that happened to you. Are you okay?” He asked, holding up each hand with an option. Sirius stared at him in disbelief before he swallowed and motioned to “yes”.

“Okay. Do you want to go into the library or to your dorm?” Remus asked him and Sirius pointed to the library.

“Okay.” Remus said and rose, glaring at James and Peter who backed up a few steps as Remus guided Sirius into the library.

“Do you want me to stay or go?” Remus asked, holding his hands out again. “Stay,” Sirius replied, tapping Remus’ hand.

“Can I clean the cut on your forehead?” Remus asked softly, motioning to the gash Sirius hadn’t even been aware was there. Sirius nodded.

Remus worked gently, explaining each step of what he was about to do and how it would feel. He knew what Sirius would experience and tried his best to prepare Sirius for the smell and the burn of the Ditany.

“The potion will wear off any moment now. Thank you for trusting my potion. I may be different, autistic, but I’m not retarded. That word is highly offensive to me and others with intellectual disabilities. Don’t use it again.”

Sirius nodded as he watched his features melt off of Remus and the tingling and burning in his skin and hair slowly morphed him back into himself. He sat staring at Remus perplexed before Remus slowly pulled the headphones from Sirius’ head and placed them over his own ears before nodding and leaving Sirius alone in the library.

Sirius would never use that word again.

[animebw]

So The Woman Called Fujiko Mine feels like an argument against itself.

I don't mean that in broad metaphorical terms. I mean that this show quite literally looks into the camera and tells you that the very concept behind it is bullshit. It's a grim and gritty re-imagining of Lupin III that seems to regard grim and gritty re-imaginings as little more than contrived nonsense, something hastily slapped onto a perfectly fine piece of media with no regard for what makes that media work in the first place. I don't think I've ever seen a more purposefully self-defeating work of fiction in my life.

What do I mean by this? Well, the basis of this show seems to be explaining the backstory of Fujiko Mine, the Lupin franchise's resident femme fatale cat burglar. What kind of experiences, it asks, would lead someone to sleeping and stealing their way through life? And this being a supposed grim and gritty re-imagining with Naked Titties and Fucking, the answer it comes to is, of course, horrific sexual trauma. The final arc descends into this ludicrously overcomplicated conspiracy involving hallucinogenic drugs, human experimentation, possibly actual magic, all to explain how Fujiko was horribly abused as a child and repressed those awful memories through a life of cheap sex and fancy trinkets. Even the OP screams this point at the start of every episode: "The act of stealing lets her forget everything and keep her memories at a safe distance." She covers herself in jewels and men as if they can hide her shameful, scarred body from the horrors it was forced to endure, a lifetime of cheap thrills to escape the pain of her womanhood.

Except just when you think the whole conspiracy justifying this backstory can't get any more complicated, it overcomplicates itself even further to reveal that none of this actually happened. Turns out, Fujiko's repressed trauma memories were false memories implanted in her when she was already an adult as part of some roundabout cry for help from the actual victim. And in fact, Fujiko was already a sex-loving, treasure-grabbing femme fatale by the time those false memories were put in her. Not because of trauma, but because she just likes having sex and stealing things. And I'm not exaggerating when I say she all but looks the audience in the face and outright says, "See? Isn't it stupid and condescending trying to force a contrived rape narrative onto a female character just because she likes sex? Why can't I just be a bombshell who loves what she does without having to feel ashamed of it? Or does it only count as feminism if characters like me have to suffer for our sexiness?"

It's a genuinely wild subversion that feels a decade ahead of its time. But therein lies the problem: you still have to sit through a mostly straightforward grim and gritty deconstruction to get to the point where it points out how stupid most grim and gritty deconstructions are. And if the point was to criticize those kinds of stories just by being an example of one, well, all I can say is that it succeeded. It absolutely feels at times like a pointlessly dark and edgy paint job slapped on top of a story for the sake of feeling "mature" when all that really means is lots of rape and uncomfortable sexual hangups. Did I mention there's a Class S episode where Fujiko becomes the teacher at an all-girls school and proceeds to have affairs with multiple of her students? Because that happens, and I could feel my skin trying to crawl off my body the entire time.

Like I said in an earlier post, this isn't fanservice in the traditional sense. In fact, with the ending reveal in mind, the presentation and execution is almost maddeningly confrontational, as if daring you not to see it for the cheap shock value it is. You can almost hear Yamamoto and Okada laughing behind the scenes as you scramble to find an explanation for why all this misery porn needed to exist, only for the show itself to say "Actually, yeah, this was all pretty tasteless and crass, who would actually want Fujiko's story to be like this?" But it's still a frustrating fucking show to watch in the moment because all that possibly intentional metafictional subversion just reads as straight-up boring edgy grimdark before you're shown the man behind the curtain. Or, woman behind the curtain. Whatever.

I dunno, I don't think I can give this one a proper score. 5/10, I guess? Ask me in a few months and see if that's changed at all. For now, I'm more than happy to polish off my Yamamoto back catalogue and move onto something else. Which 2013 show will take its place, I wonder?

[nikarie5]

Gryffindor Lions Refuse to Take a Step Backwards

Sirius Black, Remus Lupin Gryffindor Lions Captain and Forward TOPLINE Gryffindor Lions refuse to accept NHL's ban on Pride tape for their sticks. Albus Dumbledore, team owner, says he will personally cover any fines the team receives for their violations of uniform rules relating to diversity and equality theme nights. Past and present team members have offered to cover fines for any players on other teams who also visibly show their support on ice. Main Article We, and our whole Lions organization, categorically refuse to comply with the "guidelines" outlined in the NHL's memo sent out to all teams last night dictating what gear and uniforms can be worn on the ice for themed events. We will continue to use Pride tape in regular games and at our Pride Night, as will many of our teammates. We are grateful for the support from Lion's owner Albus Dumbledore, who reached out to Coach Weasley and the rest of the team to tell us that he would personally cover any fines we received for uniform violations relating to diversity and equality events this season. We have established a fund to cover any fines received by players on other teams who also continue to show their support with Pride tape or other uniform "violations". Any players wanting to contribute to the fund can reach out to us or the #Hockey4All foundation.

The NHL is taking a step backwards with their decision to ban visible on-ice support for diversity and equality initiatives. We can't support that. We have been open about our disappointment with the league's announcement last June to ban commemorative jerseys, and strongly condemn this latest attack by the league on the rights of players. We also want to take this opportunity to express our disappointment in the league's reinstatement of Arsenius Malfoy as assistant coach to the Slytherin Snakes. [Editorial note: Mr. Malfoy was proven to be responsible for the pictures which outed Mr. Black and Mr. Lupin in January 2020, and received a $50,000 fine and a one-year suspension from the league.] The outpouring of support we received from players, coaches, and fans following our outing has been greater than we ever imagined. I (Sirius) can't express how much it meant to see fellow players showing their support with Pride tape at the All-Star game the morning after I was outed. (Link to All-Star pre-game warm-up) Up until then, I hadn't realized how much support and acceptance there was among players, and that open, visible on-ice support was a turning point for me. I know it was for others too. The argument put forward by Commissioner Bettman and others that players are encouraged to "express themselves off the ice" is bullshit. Our platform comes from what we do on the ice, and on the ice is where we can best express our support for members of the LGBTQ+ community. The tape we use doesn't affect how we play hockey, but it can mean so much to our fans and younger players questioning whether they have a place in hockey. If the league aims to "keep the focus on the game", why are they choosing to take a stand that they know will be more of a "distraction" than the tape that we and many other players have used without any impact on our performance for the past season and a half?

We understand that not all players support us, and we don't think that any player should be forced to use Pride tape or wear a Pride jersey. That is not what we are arguing for - we are arguing for our right to show our support.

[pamphlettyr]

JKR has always been a fascist and i can prove it mathematically

Exhibit A: Wizard School is British Public School. The School admits the elite regardless of origin. The Bell Curve had just been released, and basically the only 3 people who knew about it were scientists (disproved the concept) leftists (ethically negated the concept) and racists (loved it). Whether she had read the book, she reproduces the idea here. Hence why hermione must hyper-overachieve in order to prove her place. 

Exhibit B: Magic system is just servants. This is why it goes straight from ubermensch to slaves, because the servants have been erased. This is why the magic is dogshit, because instead of tapping into the divine, it is rendering the mundane as mystical. "carry this for me" "run and grab me the thing" "give me the chamberpot, and then take it away for me". This is why the three unforgivable curses are "kill him" "torture him" and "i don't care what it costs, make him do it anyway". The elimination of the caring labor that makes society actually run is deeply misogynist, but is also a cornerstone of fascist ideology. There are mothers, there are aurors, there are business owners, and there are slaves. 

Exhibit C: pottermore and the liberal brownie points debacles. Everyone pretends this was her being weird and the falling into reactionary ideology ass-first, but her behavior absolutely follows the patterns of other right wing ideologues, creating sensationalist, spreadable content which also contain right wing ideology. In her case specifically If she was a liberal but stupid, she’d have made dumbledore gay *and* tonks trans, tonks trans is a slam dunk, a no brainer. But that’s not what she did because she has always viewed queerness as degeneracy, and views tonk’s ability as an analog for getting a makeover by a team of professionals. You can tell she views queerness as degenerate because she displays the 3 types of gay experience that fascists will allow in society: You can be an invisible celibate monk like dumbledore, a victim who does everything right like lupin, or a pedophile rapist like fenrir.

Exhibit D: JK wrote House Elves as black people. Fascists constantly tell jokes which reproduce the idea that black people would be and had been happier under slavery (and if i understand correctly, segregationists said the same thing about segregation too)Indeed the speakeasy in Fantastic beasts has a House elf Jazz Singer. Her staunch argument in the story, and on Pottermore that slavery is good for the elves is a paternalistic one, and paternalism is the cornerstone of colonialism, which itself is the foreign policy of a fascist. Understanding this, we are legitimately lucky that she never had a reason to show wizard america in the 80’s because she would doubtless have introduced us to a little guy named rocky who can’t get enough of his crack pipe.

Exhibit E: the naming conventions. I know it’s innocuous, but fascist both require a teaching method that prevents you from imagining others complexly, and also find pleasure in reducing people to stereotypes. It is aesthetically pleasing to them, and fascism loves smuggling itself in through aesthetics, since it takes a massive fucking post to unravel them.

Exhibit F: The post HP franchise elements. The play where the kind guy who is murdered by a fascist, isn’t murdered and joins the fascist because it turns out you can be a nice dude and a wizard nazi. Same play where the woman who staunchly argued against slavery and was belittled for it was portrayed by a black woman. Black Hermione just tickled JK Rowling, that’s how she put it too. Also, nobody can say enough about How fucked fantastic beasts is, the movie in which we have to stop johnny depp from preventing the holocaust because the wizarding way of life is actually immoral, but that won’t stop the guys with the torture prison. Exhibit G: The casting. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that all the queer british actors, and queer allies didn’t wind up getting cast in the film, even as cameos, when the list of british actors who did wind up in the series is 20 miles long. Exhibit H: the goblins: A ton of ink has already been spilled about this, but I think something needs to be said. By “reading you into” the wizarding world, and giving you the secrets about what’s happening behind the scenes, you can already see where this is going, it flips the moral calculus about who is wrong in antisemitic violence, and creates a conceptual framework that a fascist could exploit. Crucially it doesn’t have to be jews, For the sake of argument, let’s say, she could expertly slip into this kind of rhetoric where she reads you into the secret way that the world is being ruined by trannies like me. Exhibit I: new labor. If you know you know, I'm not going to rehash the last 30 years of British politics for you, but JK supported new labor, even in their choice to attack Iraq in support of America's genocidal slush fund.

Conclusion: Orson Scott Card, noted bastard and Direct Descendent of Brigham Young, wrote the novel “Ender’s Game”. Ender’s siblings engage in a political project in order to catapult ender’s brother into political prominence, and inject his ideas about how to solve the world into the public discourse. To accomplish this Ender’s sister starts Demosthenes, and Ender's brother starts Locke. Demosthenes' job is to constantly pull in liberals with lowest common denominator crowd pleasing stuff, Locke's job is to bring in a dedicated audience of hierarchically minded fascism enthusiasts. Demosthenes will grow her audience, until she has sufficient margin, and then begin to signal how Locke has some good ideas, weeding out the savvy audience who would reject Locke anyway. This sets the stage for an accelerating rightward shift which takes people who might never have come to Locke on their own, and grabs the furthest left available audience and everyone between Demosthenes’ original position and Locke’s platform, and rapidly sweeps any who could be even temporarily bamboozled into supporting Locke into doing so at a critical juncture.

[wisteria-lodge]

For some reason, very few writing posts are about dialog. Like are you supposed to be naturally good at it, or just figure it out? Anyway, here are some tips that have been useful for me. (All examples come from the front page of A03, but the point is not to embarrass anyone. There is nothing seriously wrong with any of these.)

"I have work to do Leo. We need to find Mikey." Donnie responded, not looking over at Leo. 

New writers love to put character names in dialog. And try it sometime, actually say the name of the person you're talking to as you're talking to them. It's very intense, often kind of aggressive ("Clean your room, Leo.") When it does happen, it's usually a way to underline what kind of relationship you have with the person you're talking to. ("I'm sorry, Master Splinter." = I respect you, and see you as an authority figure.") ("We're cool right, Red?" = I want you to know you're someone I feel emotionally close to.)

Regulus groaned. "This will be fun."

“Reggie! Truth or dare?” Lupin asked

“Dare, Rems,” Regulus replied. No one else called him Reggie.

The nicknames get across a lot more meaning/utility/character development than just straight-up names would, so points. But my thing is, don't torture yourself. Just use "said." It's fine. It's a super common invisible word. You can't overuse "said" the same way you can't overuse "that." It honestly takes you out of it more if characters spend a whole fic "responding" or "observing" or "answering."

"Harvey, I wasn't flirting, I was just socializing. You know how much I love meeting and talking to people, men or not. You are the only one I ever wanted and you know that."

This is an example of 'on-the-nose' dialog. Even though the character is in a kind of intense situation, they're laying out exactly what they want to say very clearly, something people are are generally pretty bad at.

You can pack a lot of character development into a moment like this. This person has just been accused of flirting when they weren't - so does that make them angry? defensive? confused? let down? apologetic? scared? playful?

Movie dialog can get away with being more on-the-nose, because a good actor can bring all those different kinds of subtext to the same line. Like this bit from Revenge of the Sith:

OBI-WAN: Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil!

ANAKIN: From my point of view the Jedi are evil!

Not "What do you know?" or "The Jedi threatened him!" or "He's given me more than the you ever have!" Just a very straightforward 'Well, from Anakin's point of view the jedi are evil, so why doesn't he just say that.'

But Hayden Christensen is a good enough actor to sell the line- he takes the slightly formal phrase "From my point of view" and delivers it in a way that sounds automatic, like maybe this is something he's been taught to say. I could believe that "From my point of view" is a phrase Obi-Wan has given him to use in arguments, and he's bringing it out here because they still have a teacher/student dynamic, and he's desperately hoping that somehow Obi-Wan might still be willing to listen. Imagine if once or twice in the previous films we had an exchange like "Anakin! What were you doing with those chance cubes!" "From my point of view, I was making it easier for the other customers to come up and talk to me," and then got hit with that exchange in the final movie.

"Turning yourself in frankly diffused a very unstable situation, and saved both sides a lot of trouble and probably some lives, and well... I thought I owed you that much."

This is a good example of a speaking quirk (I'm going though a few characters, all from the same fic.) Notice the code-switching. The character starts off very professional before becoming casual - they say "a lot of trouble" when they could have said "significant expense and effort" - which would be more of a match to "diffused a very unstable situation." So either they're getting comfortable with the person they're talking to, trying to make that person feel more comfortable, or else their professional mask is slipping for some reason

"Are you trying to paint yourself an honest thief? Ha!"

That "Ha!" is so nice because it's like... a little lame? But I totally buy that no one is actually going to tell this character that, because he's powerful. Great for a slightly funny sub-villain.

 "I gotta tell you about all the new jobs here! There's like, so many openings at the mines and in the factories!"

You don't even need to tell me this is a young character. That "like" does all the work for you.

"You want me to actively help you lot? Ha! What the fuck makes you think I'd ever do that?"

I like the combination of the precise and slightly technical "actively help" with the intense and in-your-face "fuck" and "you lot." There's a duality to this character. Like maybe they can code switch into 'expert' but choose not to. Intriguing.

Basically, you can have so much fun with a character swearing (or not), being formal (or not) using unusual words from their job or background, running scripts, talking too little, repeating themselves, having large or small vocabularies, phrasing everything as a question (or nothing as a question.) Gender, age, education level, location, background, profession, level of social prestige absolutely affect word choice and how characters talk... and if they're a robot, alien, angel, whatever - that's just an excuse to get even more stylized. (Heck, even over-using character names in dialog is a great speaking quirk for one specific character that you want to feel slightly intense/over-formal/other)

[starlitscars]

Older Remus Lupin| Professor| Smut| Part 2

Words: 3.2k (Part 1 here)

Summary: Y/N has an argument with Remus and doesn't talk with him for two weeks. One day, she wakes up and notices her classmates are gossiping about him and his new pet. Lupin's pet!

Thinking that there's someone new, she goes to his office to find it out. But Remus knows a good way to show Y/N who's his only pet...

(wrote this months ago, so it's not the best. yay)

After a minute, you hear footsteps from behind and open your eyes to watch him approaching you with something in his hand.

Something that makes you imagine all the naughty things he's able to do with it...

That's a chocolate.

No, wait. Not just a chocolate. Something is poking out of the pocket of his grey cardigan too.

You try to watch closely as he stands in front of you and unwraps the foil from around the chocolate.

As you blink a few times to get a better view, you figure that the object is shining under the room's dim light. It seems to be made of metal, round and... and.... It can't be a set of handcu-

Like really? Were you a very bad and naughty pet that deserves to be cuffed?

Obviously, yes.

You bite your lip excitedly and let your mind imagine how and when he was able to buy them, because he has never used handcuffs on you and more importantly, what he's going to do with chocolate?

The thought of what he does next, never crosses your mind.

"Why oh why a jealous little girl like you deserves a treat, I don't know." He mumbles to himself and brings the thick heart-shaped chocolate up to your mouth, watching expectantly as you take a small bite.

You forget to breath for a second when he inches his face closer to you and his gaze falls from your eyes to your mouth. He doesn't move the chocolate from its position above your lips. Instead, he tilts it a little and lets the caramel filling inside of it spill out and drip down on your lips, covering them with sweet sticky liquid. You don't dare to say anything or part your lips as the caramel dribbles further down and makes a line on your jaw.

You just let the sweet piece melt in your mouth and swallow heavily as he tosses the remaining chocolate aside on the desk. He then turns his attention back to you, admiring his masterpiece on your face as he licks his bottom lip.

"What am I going to do with you?" He asks softly and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He's teasing way too much.

'Anything you want.' Your mind answers his question, hoping he reads your thoughts now that your mouth is closed.

Oh, he definitely reads them.

His smirk widens and his hand starts caressing over where he'd spanked you a few minutes ago, sending a new group of butterflies down your stomach.

"Anything? Needy, aren't you?" He questions amusedly as his other hand snakes around your neck, but he doesn't wait for an answer this time.

Sparks flow in your body and you tilt your head back when Remus licks the spilled drop from the side of your jaw. He slowly kisses up your jawline and swipes his tongue over lips before crashing his lips to yours, easily deepening the kiss now that your mouth falls open. Then he bites your bottom lip and sucks on it, licking off all the caramel and eliciting low moans from you.

The way he does all of that is just so hot. It drives you crazy when all of his attention is on you.

Especially when he mixes his all-time favorite food with you and licks you like his life depends on it.

"Now I have to always keep my chocolates to eat them with you. That tastes so fucking better." He pants breathlessly and a satisfied smile tugs at his lips, making you smile too.

But your smile soon vanishes when he puts a hand on your chest, pushing you down on the desk of his office. Your arche your back as your upper body comes in contact with the cold wood.

Remus keeps his intense gaze on you and takes his time to discard his reddish tie from around his neck, enjoying the whole scene while you lay there half naked and desperately squirm underneath him.

He really looks at you like his meal. He wasn't really kidding when he said "You made me be late for dinner. You're going to pay for it."

"I haven't even started yet and you can't keep yourself still. How pathetic it can be when you're jealous." He taunts you and it unbelievably turns you on even more.

You notice that he's just being agonizingly slow to tease you. You know you deserve it, but the tingly feeling between your legs only gets stronger by each passing second which leaves you no choice. When he looks away for a moment, you slowly reach down to touch yourself to ease the tension, but he notices just on time and slaps your hand away.

"Don't touch what's not yours." He points at you warningly, his voice low and dangerously calm. He then seems to think for a moment before finally pulling out the set of handcuffs from his pocket.

"I was going to think that I didn't need to use this, but with you being so dumb and desperate, I have no choice." Remus shakes his head in mock disappointment and reaches up to grab both your hands, pinning them firmly above your head at the edge of the desk.

He effortlessly fastens the handcuffs around your wrists, charming them to keep your hands there.

The odd and new sensation of not being able to move or use your hands stirs something inside you and your breathing quickens. Something about Remus having full control over you makes the room feel extra hot and breathtaking.

You swallow nervously and feel the taste of remaining chocolate down your throat as your gaze eagerly follows each of his movements.

"Now much better." Remus situates himself between your legs again and places his large hands flat on your stomach, moving them towards your chest and letting your shirt ride up as much as he pleases.

He begins to caress your smooth skin in soft and slow motions as if he's getting prepared to gradually devour his meal.

His stubble brushes on the area right above your stomach when his head suddenly replaces his hands, causing you to let out a gasp.

The devilish smirk on his face says how much Remus enjoys playing with you and getting you flustered without giving you what you want.

He definitely wants to make you regret every single moment of those two weeks when you were away from him.

He wants to show you what you were missing.

Goosebumps erupt in your body when he leans down to press open-mouthed kisses around your belly button. He locks his hungry eyes with you as he does so, forbidding you from looking away. However he still resists to give your dripping heat any attention as his warm lips move to your thighs.

You give him a pleading look, silently begging for more.

"What's that look baby? Should I take care of my needy pet?" He asks in a mocking tone, tracing his pointer finger alongside your waistband.

"Please. I need you... so bad."

He chuckles darkly at your whiney tone and his hand comes up to your throat and cups your jaw while he glances at your cuffed wrists.

"Helpless and so fucking gorgeous," Remus cooes, brushing strands of hair away from your flushed face. "You want me to touch you and do bad things to you all night long, hmm?"

You nod quickly, but he's not having it.

He squeezes either side of your jaw before going down between your legs. "Use your words, you nasty pet."

"Yes, yes sir."

With that, he hums contentedly and begins to pull your panties all the way down, but not with his hands. with his teeth, causing you to shudder.

He brings the piece of fabric up to his face and inhales deeply. "Told you I could smell it. Jealousy jealousy." He remarks and tucks the fabric into the pocket of his cardigan, giving you a disappointed look.

Adrenaline starts rushing in your veins as you try to anticipate what he's going to do next. Embarrassed by how wet you must be by now, you suddenly feel vulnerable and close legs together, only to be furiously pushed open again by his hands.

"Bunny, don't you think that it's a bit too late to shy away? You're being really naughty tonight. I won't tolerate it." He ridicules you and runs his fingers through your slick folds in order to spread your arousal, eliciting a low moan from you.

"Gonna taste my wet little pet" He purrs, licking his bottom lip.

Your heart skips a beat when he stops and bends down to spit on your cunt, wasting no time to dip his head and giving you a long slow lick. You close your eyes and throw your head back, letting out a strangled moan at the feeling of his warm tongue.

However the feeling soon fades and a sharp sting of his slapping on your thigh replaces the short-lived pleasure.

Your eyes instinctively fly open as both pain and pleasure course through your body.

"This won't work if you don't keep your eyes on me." He shakes his head tauntingly, faking a frown.

"I'm sorry, sir." You whimper, trying not to be too jittery and jumpy under his lustful gaze. He nods and pushes your legs more apart, his warm breath fanning all over your wetness.

"Can you keep your legs open too or shall I tie them apart?" He asks, pointing at your restrained hands.

"Can do it myself, I promis- ohh." You begin, but don't get the chance to finish when he finally dives in and licks at your dripping cunt like a starved man, lapping up your arousal with the flicks of his tongue. He circles his tongue around your clit before sucking it between his lips, treating you exactly like his midnight sin.

Relentless moans escape your mouth and fill the empty room and a familiar feeling starts to slowly form in your insides.

You would always want to be his midnight sin. You didn't lie when you said that earlier.

His middle finger circles around your entrance before slowly pushing into you and curling up to meet the spot that makes you see stars.

"Th- that feels so... so good." You stutter as you try hard to keep your eyes open while your hands struggle to find something to hold onto. It's a torture when you can't run your hands through his hair and push his face more into your heat.

Remus adds his ring finger alongside the middle, his teeth gently grazing over your clit as his fingers work to stretch you nicely. He sucks on your clit between his fingers once more, causing you to buck your hips up from the extreme pleasure he's given you.

Your legs begin to shake and he takes the hint as his fingers work faster inside you.

"I- I'm close... can I..."

"Yeah baby. You're going to be a good pet and show me that you deserve what I give you," He encourages you with his raspy voice before leaning down again to roughly suck on your clit for one last time. "Cum for me."

With his demand you let go and clench around his skilled fingers, your eyes falling shut at the overwhelming sensation. Your back arches off the desk and you let out a loud moan as waves after waves of pleasure erupt in your body, causing you to cum over his hand and tongue. You had missed this feeling so much.

He keeps fingering you through your orgasm until you come down from your high and pant heavily. A proud smirk forms at the corner of his mouth as you look down at him.

"Damn Y/N, all your classmates wanna be you, don't they?" He slowly pulls back and stands up, licking his glistening fingers clean as he continues. "And here you are... all worked up and wet because of their gossips." 

You glance at the clock for a moment and silently smile to yourself. All those girls and boys who were gossiping about Remus in the Great Hall are probably asleep by now.

And you feel kinda sorry for them.

None of them will ever be in your place and know Remus the way you do. The thought makes you feel butterflies in your stomach. Your gaze falls back on him as you silently adore him, your chest heaving up and down.

He easily takes off his cardigan along with his shirt and tosses them aside, revealing his beautifully scarred chest to your desperate eyes. You forget your situation for a moment and begin to move and sit up, only to be stopped by the stiff handcuffs that keep you stuck on the desk.

You try again and he only chuckles. Remus knows what he's doing and it only flusters you more.

He wants to punish you by not letting you get your hands on him.

He ignores your struggles and unbuckles his belt, pulling his pants down enough for his hard cock to spring free. His pink tip drips with precum and the pulsating veins on his dick beg for release, all because of you.

For you.

Your mouth waters at the sight in front of you.

"It's so pathetic how getting jealous turns you on." He taunts lowly and lines himself up with your entrance, but you can't focus on his words while he so deliciously rubs his tip up and down your cunt in slow motions.

You hopelessly tug at the restraints to free your hands, but it seems that they get tighter around your wrists with each try.

"Let me get rid of these. I want to touch you." You pout breathlessly.

He shakes his head, coming up to press a kiss to your lips. "None of that. This will make you learn how to be a good pet." He taps his finger on your cheek and gets back down.

"But..."

"Shh," He shoves his middle and pointer fingers in your mouth to silence your whines as he slowly pushes into your entrance, causing both of you to let out a low growl. "Just as how I like you. Taking me so well, hmm?"

You nod silently and moan around him as he pushes himself all the way inside you, inch by inch until he's fully in. He waits for you to get adjusted to him while all you can do is to dutifully swirl your tongue around his finger and suck.

"Fuck girl. You do things to me." He says in a throaty voice, slowly beginning his thrusts as brown strands of hair fall loosely on his forehead, making him look hotter than ever.

Oh and god, he's so hot.

You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of him stretching you out and wonder how you were able to go two weeks without him. His other hand runs up and down your side, stopping at your hip.

His fingers work perfectly to conceal your moans and all while he keeps his continuous pace. You dutifully swirl your tongue around his fingers as you silently suck.

After a few minutes, he pulls his fingers out and puts his hands on your thighs, holding them firmly as you wrap your legs around his waist. That familiar feeling of fullness begins to form in your insides again, this time stronger than before.

"Fuck, yes." You moan out when his thrusts become a little faster and harsher, your mixed whimpers and moans echoing freely in the room as he hits the right spots.

"Don't swear, my naughty little pet." He warns huskily, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. Your legs begin to shake again and you bite your lip eagerly as he twitches inside you, signaling that he can't hold it any longer.

"You know you're mine, right?" He says breathlessly while his hands cup your breasts, sending chills through your body.

All you can do is a brief nod as you focus on the second extreme pleasure of the night he's giving you, but he's not having it even now.

He wants to hear you say it.

"Say it." He demands, one of his hands finding its way between your legs to rub delicate circles over your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan and feel yourself growing closer to your second orgasm.

You obey him with all the passion and strength that is left in your body.

"I'm yours. All yours." You whine out, feeling your walls clenching around him as his thrusts become more erratic and deep. A satisfied smile spreads across his face at your confession.

"Are you going to cum for me, baby?" He asks, his fingers working faster on your soaked clit.

"Yes... Please." You plead impatiently.

"Go on then. Cum around my cock." He nods encouragingly, his own thrusts becoming sloppy and slow.

With his words you let go and intense waves of pleasure begin to course through your body, causing you to shut your eyes and tighten your grip around his waist as your hands hold onto the metal restraints to keep your balance.

He pulls out with a groan, and with a few strokes of his hands, he releases all over your belly, his chest heaving up and down heavily as he shots you a charming yet consumed smile.

You stay like that for a while to gain your breaths and ride out your highs, looking admiringly into each other's eyes.

Remus then composes himself and retrieves his wand, flicking it to unfasten the handcuffs from around your wrists before he taps it on your stomach to clean you up. He takes both your hands in his, slowly lifting you up from the desk. He then caresses his thumbs soothingly over your wrists and presses soft kisses over the red marks.

"Does it hurt?" He asks softly, his voice concerned.

"Not anymore." You reply with a giggle, falling into his embrace as he hugs you protectively and strokes your hair.

"Let's get you off my desk before I decide to keep you up for the rest of the night." He cooes into your ear, hooking his hands under your thighs to pick you up.

"I'm always up for it, Professor." You wink tiredly as you wrap your hands around his neck, kissing him slowly and burying your head into the crook of his neck.

He gently lifts you up, making his way to the stairs that lead to his private chambers. You had a pretty long night. He wants you to sleep peacefully.

In his arms.

"Shh. Let your beautiful eyes close for now." He walks up the stairs carefully as your eyes feel heavy with each step. His voice is like a lullaby to your ears."Just know that you're going to remember who's my little pet everytime you walk into my class and your gaze falls to this desk." He points at his desk from upstairs, finally reaching the door of his bedroom.

"I sure will remember it, Mr. Handsome." Is your last reply before you fall asleep on the best bed in the world.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 (I'd like to know who'll be the 888th. Follow me there if you can. thanks) ㅠ᎑ㅠ

[justviwriting]

"Time"

Fandom: Harry Potter Characters: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks Pairing: Remus/Tonks Rating: T (sexual content) Words: 958 Summary: Remus and Tonks find a moment of peacefulness in the midsts of the approaching war. A/N: While writing that first oneshot, I've slowly fallen back in love with remadora, so I felt like writing another one set shortly afterwards :)

[you can also read it on AO3]

The first streams of dawn were creeping through sides of the closed curtains, dipping the small, stuffy room into a faint light. Outside, it was still quiet. Hogsmeade had not woken up yet. Remus carefully turned his head to look at the clock, barely visible at the wall above the door. He squinted his eyes to recognise the time. It wasn’t even four in the morning yet. Perhaps he could find some sleep still. He was feeling tired, though not restless.

“How late is it?” Tonks asked. She was lying next to him, her head comfortably resting in the crook of his shoulder, and the fingers of her left hand gently painting circles on his chest. It had just been twenty-four hours since he had made the decision to let her into his life, and himself into hers, and right now he felt like he had never made a better choice in his life. The peace she brought was almost unfathomable. Even more so, as just two days ago he would have never imagined that this was where he would have ended up, had even sworn to himself that this would never happen. But times change and the times they were living in right now were not the ones of certainty.

“Almost four,” he replied to her before a slight gasp escaped his lips as her fingers lightly traced along a fresh scar near his shoulder. He could feel Tonks smile before she places a soft kiss on his chest.

“We should probably sleep,” she said then, looking up at him. She looked tired as well, though the smile had not left her face.

“Yeah,” Remus replied, absently stroking through her hair. In truth, he did not want to sleep, as no dream could compare. “When do you have to get up?” he asked then after a short pause. He would not mind if she fell asleep, quite the opposite. She needed some rest, as she was the one who had to work.

“At seven,” she told him. He quietly chuckled at that. At least she still had three hours left. “You’re not planning on getting up today?” she asked him then, mildly raising her brows at him.

“I’ll probably have to, eventually,” he said. Though he only would should they ask for him. The room was quite small and a bit musty, but he had seen worse. He would be able to fall asleep with ease, especially with the knowledge that Tonks would return. “But if you don’t mind, I’ll stay here until anyone needs me,” he added.

“I don’t mind,” she told him. He smiled at that. He wouldn’t care if he could just stay here forever. Outside of this room he would have to face reality again. They were planning Dumbledore’s funeral right now while simultaneously trying to decide how to move forward against Voldemort. All that was waiting for him was either the grim talk of putting his mentor to rest, the helpless discussions of the remaining order members or the tireless arguments with the Ministry. Neither of which he was looking forward to or felt like he would be able to add anything of value to. Naturally, he would still help, of course. He would share his ideas, his knowledge, his skills. He would do so until either this war was won, or he died.

He noticed Tonks’ gaze upon him. He looked down at her and saw the sad smile on her face. The gloomy thoughts inside his mind must have shown on his face. Slowly, she slightly pushed herself up to kiss him. His hand was still in her hair as he pulled her closer, opening his lips to deepen the kiss. This was all he wanted his mind to be occupied by. All he needed to think about, really. Everything else that lay ahead of them was hidden along a dark path that made it unable to see much further or know which road to take.

He lifted his other hand, so it rested comfortably on her hip, gently drawing her closer.

Tonks broke the kiss, though she stayed close too his face as she said with a slight smirk, “I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“Mhm,” he murmured. “I can sleep later.”

She gave him another smile before lowering her lips back on his. Her leg slowly moved over his body until she was on top of him. He drew in a sharp breath at the sudden sensation of her body so close to his. Their kiss intensifying, his hand moved away from her hair and joined the other at her hips, pulling her closer as his body started to heat up. He tried to be as slow and patient as possible, preserving this moment in time, prolonging a short escape from the darkness.

Later, Tonks was lying beside him, her head on his chest, breathing steadily. She had finally fallen asleep, though he knew she would have to get up soon. The sunlight was now completely illuminating the room, showing the merciless clock ticking away the time. He should probably have joined Tonks in her sleep, but the sensation of feeling her body to close to his had kept him from that. Instead, he had been watching her breath becoming shallow as she had slowly fallen asleep, his hand still gently stroking through her hair. He carefully raised his other hand as he noticed a sweaty strand of her hair falling into her face. She stirred slightly at the touch, but did not wake. He knew he would have to disrupt her sleep soon. And once she had woken up, he would probably finally fall asleep himself. But not now. Now he cherished the little time he had.

[henqtic]

Moon Beauty

paring: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?— a question asked to you under the new moon.

word count: 247. | warnings: illusions to sex but no actual descriptions.

authors note: i read over this and turns i didn’t use draco’s name at all + really described him in any way so, if you want to, feel free to imagine him as any male character instead :)

masterlist. // taglist form. // request works. 

“do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” he asked after a few minutes, still attempting to wrap the small blanket around your bare bodies that was supposed to be used as a small comfort as you got some air outside— away from studies and such.

obviously, it hadn’t gone exactly how you planned— completely derailed to what the main focus of getting some calmed time together and instead ending up as sweaty bodies glistening underneath the darkened sky and it’s muted light.

and once he noticed that the moon was a factor of that, not too far into its new phase and planning to come back in nearly a month's time as a crescent— the words of flattery soon popped up into his mind, neither of you caring much about the natural order of things.

“not at all, i think it’s just taking a small break from its responsibilities— the moon is far too beautiful to find me a threat,” you teased, an airy laugh sounding as he shifted his attention from above and to below where you were lying on his chest, scrunched nose prominent in his facial expression, ready for a soft argument. 

“i disagree, i think it’s just gone into hiding out of intimidation.”

“you really think so?” you asked, amused that he was still going along with the whole thing. 

“of course, there isn’t a thing in this universe that could put up a good match against you.”

🔖—!! @harmqnia @eunoniaa @dracosaccount @ambi-doo12 @mypainistemporary @ang9lic @daltonacademia @inglourious-imagines @willowmores @arcaneslut @slutfordracoluciusmalfoy @axgelre @beforeoursunsets @selenesheart @o-rion-sta-r @alexavolturisblog @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @myalupinblack @l0vely-lupin @ameliasbitvh @mauvea @turn-to-page-394-please @clownybrit @callmesasha @aguamvnti @dracosathenaeum @maybanksslut @dracomalfoys-wh0re @marrymetheonott @becgggg @gwlvr @oh-my-ronron-mphfpc-fanfic-heart @draco-malfoys-significant-other  @bella-lxhp @trashyvicks​ @Imtryingbutithurts @potterheadtwilighter @galimalfoyweasley @tomandjaebae @mrsmaifoy @riddleswh0r3crux @slvt4fakerealities @silverdelirium @dlmmdl @hogwarts-boys @akaaaaashiiii @writeandtranslate @fleursbabe @desiredmalfoy​ @badass-yn @ilygw @redheaded-hobbit @belladaises @yandere-marvel @dreamcxtcherr @lovelymalfoyy @hogwarts-102 @darlingmalfoy @dracmalf0y-dm @Natashaeverline @yoooespinosa @noellestrash​ @mrs-brekker15 @malfoysbiitch @mollysolo @haroldpotterson 

[wolfstar-in-color]

July Colorful Column: Remus is a Crip, and We Can Write Him Better.

There is one thing that can get me to close a fic so voraciously I don’t even make sure I’m not closing other essential tabs in the process. It doesn’t matter how much I’m loving the fic, how well written I think it is, or how desperately I want to know how it ends. Once I read this sentence, I am done.

It’s written in a variety of different ways, but it always goes something like this: “You don’t want me,” Remus said, “I am too sick/broken/poor/old/[insert chosen self-demeaning adjective here].”

You’re familiar with the trope. The trope is canonical. And if you’ve been around the wolfstar fandom for longer than a few minutes, you’ve read the trope. Maybe you love the trope! Maybe you’ve written the trope! Maybe you’re about to stop reading this column, because the trope rings true to you and you feel a little attacked!

Now, let’s get one thing out of the way right now: I am not saying the trope is wrong. I am not saying it’s bad. I am not saying we should stop writing it. We all have things we don’t like to see in our chosen fics. Maybe you can’t stand Leather Jacket Motorbike Sirius? Maybe you think Elbow Patch Remus is overdone? Or maybe your pet peeves are based in something a little deeper - maybe you think Poor Latino Remus is an irresponsible depiction, or that PWPs are too reductive? Whatever it is, we all have our things.

Let me tell you about my thing. When I first became very ill several years ago, there were various low points in which I felt I had become inherently unlovable. This is, more or less, a normal reaction. When your body stops doing things it used to be able to do - or starts doing things you were quite alright without, thank you very much - it changes the way you relate to your body. You don’t want to hear my whole disability history, so yada yada yada, most people eventually come to accept their limitations. It’s a very painful existence, one in which you constantly tell yourself your disability has transformed you into a burdensome, unworthy member of society, and if nothing else, it’s not terribly sustainable. Being disabled takes grit! It takes power! It takes a truly absurd amount of medical self-advocacy! Hating yourself? Thinking yourself unworthy of love? No one has time for that. 

Of course, I’m being hyperbolic. Plenty of disabled people struggle with these feelings many years into their disabilities, and never really get over them. But here’s the thing. We experience those stories ALL THE TIME. Remember Rain Man? Or Million Dollar Baby? Or that one with the actress from Game of Thrones and that British actor who seemed like he was going to have a promising career but then didn't? Those are all stories about sad, bitter disabled people and their sad, bitter lives, two out of three of which end in the character completing suicide because they simply couldn’t imagine having to live as a disabled person. (I mean, come on media, I get that we're less likely to enjoy a leisurely Saturday hike, but our parking is SUBLIME.) When was the last time you engaged with media that depicted a happy disabled person? A complex disabled person? A disabled person who has sex? No really, these aren’t hypothetical questions, can you please drop a rec in the notes?? Because I am desperate.

There are lots of problems with this trope, and they’ve been discussed ad nauseam by people with PhDs. I’m not actually interested in talking about how this trope leads to a more prevalent societal idea that disabled people are unworthy of love, or contributes to the kind of political thought processes that keep disabled people purposefully disenfranchised. I’m just a bitch on Tumblr, and I have a bone to pick: the thing I really hate about the trope? It’s boring. I’m bored. You know how, like, halfway through Grey’s Anatomy you realized they were just recycling the same plot points over and over again and there was just no WAY anyone working at a hospital prone to THAT MANY disasters would stay on staff? It's like that. I love a recycled trope as much as the next person (There Was Only One Bed, anyone?). But I need. Something. Else.

Remus is disabled. BOLD claim. WILD speculation. Except, not really. You simply - no matter how you flip it, slice it, puree it, or deconstruct it - cannot tell me Remus Lupin is not disabled. Most of us, by this point, are probably familiar with the way that One Canonical Author intended One Dashing Werewolf to be “a metaphor for those illnesses that carry stigma, like HIV and AIDS” [I’m sorry to link you to an outside source quoting She Who Must Not Be Named, but we’re professionals here]. Which is... a thing. It’s been discussed. And, listen, there’s no denying that this parallel is a problematic interpretation of people who have HIV/AIDS and all such similar “those illnesses” (though I’ll admit that I, too, am perennially apt to turn into a raging beast liable to harm anything that crosses my path, but that’s more linked to the at-least-once-monthly recollection that One Day At A Time got cancelled). Critiques aside, Remus Lupin is a character who - due to a condition that affects him physically, mentally, emotionally, and intellectually - is repeatedly marginalized, oppressed, denied political and social power, and ostracized due to unfounded fear that he is infectious to others. Does that sound familiar?

We’re not going to argue about whether or not “Remus is canonically disabled as fuck” is a fair reading. And the reason we’re not going to argue about whether or not it’s a fair reading is because I haven’t read canon in 10-plus years and you will win the argument. Canon is only marginally relevant here. The icon of this blog is brown, curly haired Remus Lupin kissing his trans boyfriend, Sirius Black. We are obviously not too terribly invested in canon. The wolfstar fandom is now a community with over 25,000 AO3 fics, entire careers launched from drawing or writing or cosplaying this non-canonical pairing. We love to play around here with storylines and universes and races and genders and sexualities and all kinds of things, but most of the time? Remus is still disabled. He’s disabled as a werewolf in canon-compliant works, he’s disabled in the AUs where he was injured or abused or kidnapped or harmed as a child, he’s disabled in the stories that read him as chronically ill or bipolar or traumatized or blind or Deaf. I’d go so far as to say that he is one of very few characters in the Wide Wonderful World of media who is, in as close to his essence as one can be, always disabled. And that means? Don’t shoot the messenger... but we could stand to be a tiny bit more responsible with how we portray him. 

Disabled people are complicated. As much as I’d like to pretend we are always level-headed, confident, and ready to assert our inherent worth, we are still just humans. We have bad days. We doubt our worth. We sometimes go out with guys who complain about our steroid-induced weight gain (it was a long time ago, Tumblr, okay??). But, we also have joy and fun and good days and sex and happiness and families and so many other things. 

Remus is a disabled character, and as such, it’s only fair that he’d have those unworthy moments. But - I propose - Remus is also a crip. What is a crip? A crip - like a queer - is someone who eschews the limited boundaries placed on their bodies, who rejects a hierarchy of oppression in favor of an intersectional analysis of lived experience, who isn’t interested in being the tragic figure responsible for helping people with dominant identities realize how good they have it. Crips interpret their disabilities however they want, rethinking bodies and medicine and pleasure and pain and even time itself. Crips are political, community-minded, and in search of liberation. 

Remus is a character who struggles with his disability, sure. But he’s also a character who leverages his physical condition to attempt to shift communities towards his political leanings, advocates for the rights of those who share his physical condition, and has super hot sex with his wrongfully convicted boyfriend ultimately goes on to build community and family. Having a condition that quite literally cripples you, over which you have no control, and through which you are often read as a social pariah? That’s disability. But using said condition as a means through which to build advocacy and community? Now that’s some crip shit. 

Personally, I love disabled!Remus Lupin. But I love crip!Remus Lupin even more. I’d love to see more of a Remus who owns his disability, who covets what makes him unique, and who never ever again tells a potential romantic partner they are too good for him because of his disability. This trope - unlike There Was Only One Bed! - sometimes actually hurts to read. Where’s Remus who thinks a potential romantic partner isn’t good enough for him? Where’s Remus who insists his partners learn more about his condition in order to treat him properly? Where’s sexy wheelchair user Remus? Where’s Remus who uses his werewolf transformations as an excuse to travel the world? Where’s crip Remus??

We don’t have to put “you don’t want me” Remus entirely to bed. It is but one of many repeated tropes that are - in the words of The Hot Priest from Fleabag - morally a bit dubious. And let’s face it - we don’t always come to fandom for its moral superiority (as much as we sometimes like to think we do). 

This is not a condemnation - it is an invitation. Able-bodied folks are all but an injury, illness, or couple decades away from being disabled. And when you get here, I sincerely hope you don’t waste your time on “you don’t want me”ing back and forth with the people you love. I’m inviting you to come to the crip side now. We have snacks, and without all the “you don’t want me” talk, we get to the juicy parts much faster. 

Colorfully,

Mod Theo

[rosaline-black]

Hiii there! Hope everything’s good with you and congratulations on the follow count!! I’m happy for you, not surprised tho, cause your writing is 😗🤌 amazing!

Ok, so I’m a girl, she/her and straight and I’d like to request a 🌼 with a guy from the marauders.

I’m an introvert, hard shell to break, I isolate myself a lot, mainly in new friendships, which gives me the smart-quiet-goody-2-shoes stereotype. Socialisation haunts me and I’m shit awkward at interactions. When the shell is broken, I get very talkative. My mind is chaotic 24/7 so I shuffle between topics very fast and I stutter a little and get tangled in my own sentences, mainly when I’m excited. Im blunt and VERY sarcastic and ironic and like to dramatize stuff to make fun of it. Im very kind and put others above me sometimes, which beats my very high empathy and sensibility to pieces but oh well. I can also get very fired up in arguments cause I’m very passionate about my beliefs and values but I won’t cross the line and offend anyone as no matter how stubborn I am (extremely btw) I always try to make amends after cooling down and mediate when I’m not involved. I’m a romantic and a daydreamer. I’m smart and I like to learn stuff and to know how things work and understand them but am an extreme overthinker. I think far too much about every little thing and get insecure. Parties make me really anxious and loud people annoy me so I’d rather stay in. Sometimes I think I’m a little too mature. Like, can we talk about politics and the economic state of the world?? (Pls forgive me, i had to). Im curious but scattered so I’ll easily start a night-in (sponsored by YouTube!) by watching a video on “the most memorable Eurovision entries of all time” and end it with “inside the mind of a psychopath: a deep psychological analysis”. ✨It’s a little bit of everything all of the time✨ which reminds me of how much I love Bo Burnham. In a lot of my free time i listen to his songs or whatch his shows. I love how he’s genially funny but also #deep (I’m sorry) and brutally honest and makes you think. It’s also a good clutch for my anxiety. I consume books at a crazy speed but always love going back to some classics. I love sitcoms and rock music. Sometimes I like to spend time doing online timed questionaries about general knowledge cause I like challenging myself (and I also don’t have a life). Oh, this is very important: my pet peeve is loud chewing and gulping. Please do not eat and drink loudly yall, I beg of you. I’m very observant and have a ridiculously selective memory, I won’t remember my lunch from yesterday but I’ll remember the first words someone spoke to me 10 years ago. Im a firm believer in empathy and doing what’s right and on a completely connected note, I’m a big cuddler. I cant ever tell something funny as I’ll just laugh my ass off and I also have a very long list of musical and cinematic and ¿memematical? references that I sometimes insert all over (initially) nice conversations :) Yeah. Important information right there.

That’s it ig. Can’t think of much more rn. Sorry if I didn’t choose the most helpful information!!

Okay first of all are we the same person? Like fr I’m convinced we are omg. Please dm or something cause I screamed at the jaden smith reference.

Right so I found this one kinda easy but I match you with…

Remus Lupin

- first of all let’s say this is modern day, Remus would be such a big bo burnham stan like come on

- you both would spend long ass days reading together, imagine you resting your head on his lap reading your respective books. Omg maybe you even have book clubs with just you two (and maybe lily too)

- I think your bluntness would coincide with Remus perfectly. Sometimes this man just needs to hear the honest truth, and he loves you for it.

- you’re both a little awkward, but with Remus having friends that are so outgoing, you benefit just like he did when he met the other marauders. They help with your socialisation problems, weeding you into the idea of a party (which I tbh just headcanon is just you all getting drunk and James turning into a deer for bants)

- imagine you and Remus being the parents of the group; you hear Sirius chewing too loud and talking with his mouth full so you both simultaneously throw pillows at his head

- Remus is also used to putting people above his own needs so he recognises quickly that you’re doing the same. He’s there to be like… no no no, eat this damn chocolate and relax right now!!!

- also one final note; cuddling Remus post full moon>>>>

[writing-red]

The Daughter of the Dog | 1

Fred Weasley x SirusBlacksDaughter!Reader

Summary: That fateful night that would wrongfully land him in Azkaban Sirius Black left his three-year-old daughter at the door of her godfather, Remus Lupin. Now as she enters her fifth year at Hogwarts she is a-fronted by her peers and their outward fear of her presence.

Warnings: bullying, cussing, slow burn relationship, bullying, asshole teachers (Snape.)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: If y’all like this I’ll continue on with this :)

chapter one, chapter two

“Remus you can’t make me go to school this year. Everyone there already hates me, and now that dad is all over the Daily Prophet, it’ll all just be worse,” you made your case to your godfather for the hundredth time this summer since your father had broken out of Azkaban.

“Y/n, you have friends who will have your back,” Remus said, he felt terrible, and he knew you were right, but he also knew how important it was for you to be at Hogwarts. “I’ll be there, and Dumbledore and McGonagall will make sure nothing happens.”

“Gryffindor’s aren’t as nice as you think they are,” you retorted. “And I do not have friends, that’s a joke. Everyone despises me, even some of my bloody professors hate me,” you were particularly referencing Snape who’d had it out for you since your name had been called for sorting your first year.

“That’s impossible, of course, you have friends, what about the twins?” he asked, and you ignored him. It was true that you were close with Fred and George, but you felt that virtually everyone other than those two Weasley’s hated you.

“I’m glad you, dad, and Uncle James were just so popular when you went to school, and everyone just bloody loved you, but it isn’t the same for me,” you said, finally deciding you were done with the argument and storming upstairs, you knew that Remus wasn’t going to budge about his decision, but you’d put up as much of a stink as you could, and being that September 1st was only a week away you figured your case had failed.

Remus let you storm out, you were fifteen, and he understood that you were going through a lot. Not only were you a teenager and dealing with all of the joys of puberty, but you were the daughter of an assumed murderer, which couldn’t make school much fun. He could only imagine the ways your peers used that to torment you. He couldn’t forget the minuscule things James and Sirius would agonize Severus Snape over when they had been in school. On top of all that, twelve years ago, your father had left you on Remus’ doorstep with a note on your forehead that read:

‘Peter rated out James and Lily, I’m going to Godrics Hollow, if anything happens, take care of Y/n, she doesn’t have anyone else.’

He was right, your mother had died at the hands of Lucius Malfoy before your first birthday, and her parents had died long ago, Sirius didn’t want you anywhere near his parents, neither Sirius nor your mother had living siblings, and Remus was your only named Godparent. You grew up with both of your parents, and all of your family ripped away from you. You had been left only with good memories of the man the world was trying to tell you was evil and a note you had used as evidence of his innocence.

Despite everything, Remus didn’t mind having you around in the least, you were a carbon copy of your parents, just an absolute firecracker, and he loved you just as much as your parents had. While he anticipated his situation to be a problem it wasn’t, as whenever necessary, Molly Weasley would take you in for however long Remus needed. However, your third year, you took a page out of your father’s book, and while at school, you learned how to become an animagus on your own, so that when you returned home that summer, you were able to stay with your godfather though all of his sessions, and help. Remus found as you grew up that you took care of him as much as he took care of you, he was eternally grateful to have you in his life. Now, with everything going on in your life and all the trauma you had ensued, he couldn’t blame you for lashing out. He just wished he could be of more help.

You didn’t argue with Remus about going to school again, and on August 31st, you begrudgingly packed up your trunk in anticipation of your journey to Hogwarts. You and Remus lived in a house you had inherited from your mother in Burford, West Oxfordshire, it was far enough outside town to be safe for Remus, and it was protected with old magic as it had been in your family for centuries. Being that it’s only over an hour-long drive to London, Remus usually drove you to King’s Cross, but since he was going with you to Hogwarts this year, you both took an early train to London, arriving in perfect time to catch the Hogwarts Express.

When you boarded the train, you split ways with Remus as you were due in the prefect compartment so that you could do your rounds. Prefect duty was another thing you were dreading this year, you were sure that no one would be willing to listen to you considering your situation, and you genuinely had no clue why Professor McGonagall wanted you as a prefect anyways.

During your round, you found that your assumptions were correct, no one would listen to you, and you only found yourself getting angry every time you noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet with your father’s mugshot on the cover. He hadn’t aided in the murder of your Uncle James and Aunt Lily, he hadn’t a reason to, James had been his best friend. Not only that, but nobody knew half the story you and Remus knew, but of course, no one wanted to listen to you, and the only evidence you had was the note he had left on your forehead, which was, of course, deemed unreliable. You were sure Peter was out there somewhere, and you were optimistic that if you could find him, you would be able to clear your father’s name, but you had no clue where you could start.

You past by the compartment Harry, Ron, and Hermione frequented to find your godfather sleeping in the corner, that man did love his naps, although you were curious why they had chosen to sit in a compartment with a sleeping professor in it, but you brushed it off. The three had a knack for making odd decisions that never failed to land them into trouble of some sort.

You continued walking down the corridor, keeping to yourself, not finding anyone to be breaking any severe rules. You had decided that as a prefect, your policy would be that if it wasn’t happening in front of you, you wouldn’t report it. After experiencing Percy Weasley’s tyrannical rain, the last thing you wanted was to subject other students to such tyranny. You remained in your thoughts till you passed by Draco Malfoy’s compartment, where the door was wide open.

“Oi! Black!” You heard Malfoy yell as you approached his compartment. “Surprised, they let you come this year considering your murderer father is loose.”

You elected to ignore him and continue walking, biting back the insults you wanted so badly to throw back.

“Or I guess you’re nothing like your father, more the chicken type like your pathetic moth-”

You swung around, resisting the urge the pull your wand out and land a nasty jinx on the prick, “You’re one to speak Malfoy, considering your father is a cowardly murderer who hides behind money and lies. Now, if you want to lose another twenty points from Slytherin before we even arrive at Hogwarts, I suggest you keep running your mouth,” you said without breaking a sweat, silence from Malfoy and his posse following. “I thought so,” you said before continuing on your round.

You made it to the end of the train and turned around to do your final walkthrough you intended to stop into the section Remus was in and see if he had awoken. As you walked down the corridor, you noted the cold fog that rolled alongside the train, the ride to Hogwarts was rarely this cold. As you approached the compartment door, the train came to a screeching halt, and you were thrown up against the door, startling its occupants. You hurried to your feet and entered as Harry Potter opened the door.

“What’s going on?” Ron Weasley asked. You stood back against the door as the lights in the train flickered out.

“I know just as much as you do,” you said, trying your best to push aside any fear.

From his seat, Harry was giving you a weird look. Meanwhile, Ron pressed himself against the window that had begun frosting.

“Ouch, Ron, that was my foot,” Hermione complained.

Ron ignored his clumsiness, concerned with whatever he saw outside the train, “There’s something moving out there.”

With that, the lights turned on and then off again, the train rocking and ice encapsulating the carriage. No longer trusting your own legs, you rushed to take a seat on the bench Harry and Remus were on, though you kept your distance, still grimly aware of the rumours that had been flying around the train regarding your father. Although, your thoughts were stopped as the train halted again, and your breath turned to ice.

“Bloody hell! What’s happening?” Ron cried.

All of your heads turned to the carriage’s door as a lanky robed creature with a hand like that of a skeleton’s slowly eased opened the door. As it approached, you could feel nothing but true sadness echo through your body and mind. It was a coldness you felt would never leave you. The thing you recognized as a dementor entered, looming off of the ground and ignoring everything but you and Harry. The dementor paused as if unsure of which one of you was worth its time. Discerning what was happening and uncertain of what else to do, you rose to your feet to act as a barrier between Harry and the dementor. As a result of your action, and your misery now clear to the creature, it started to feed off of you. At some point, you saw a blast of bright light, but the second it and the dementor disappeared, your fainted, falling to the floor.

“Y/n, Harry?” you heard Hermione’s voice as your eyes flickered open. “Professor are they going to be alright?”

You rose to a seated position to find yourself lying on the floor, Harry on the bench above you, Ron crunched in his corner, a very concerned Hermione Granger hovering over you, and Remus ready with a bit of chocolate as always.

“Here, eat this, it’ll help,” he said as he offered you and Harry the chocolate which you graciously took.

“What was that thing that came?” Harry asked.

“It was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban,” He explained to Harry before looking at you, “It’s gone now,” he assured before turning back to Harry to finish answering his question. “It was searching the train for Sirius Black.”

You swallowed your bite of the chocolate quite loudly, uncomfortable with the information at hand.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a little word with the driver,” Remus rose, leaving the chocolate bar with you. “Eat, you’ll feel better.” Remus assured Harry before leaving and heading to the front of the train.

You broke the chocolate bar in half and gave it to Harry, “It does help.”

“Harry fainted just after you did,” Hermione explained. You had quickly noticed before fainting that the dementor didn’t affect Ron or Hermione half as much as it had you and Harry.

“What exactly happened?” Harry asked as he took a bite of the chocolate.

“Well, after Y/n fainted, you went rigid, we thought you were having- well a fit or something,” Ron explained.

“Dementors feed on feelings of depression and despair,” you explained.

“Is that why-”

“You felt like you could never be happy again?” you finished Ron’s thought and nodded. “Exactly.”

“But someone was screaming,” Harry said, the memory alive in his eyes. “A woman.”

“No one was screaming, Harry,” said Hermione.

“I heard screaming too,” you said, looking over at him. A silence settled over the carriage once more, causing the reality of your parentage to come crashing over you yet again. You shakily rose to your feet, not exactly well just yet. “I should be going- prefect, duty- let me know if you need anything else.” And before anyone could protest, you were out of the compartment and walking back down the train corridor.

Before you could very much think about it, you entered Fred and George’s compartment, quite unsure of where else you might have been welcome.

“Y/n!” The twins chimed when you entered.

“Sit,” Fred started

“Yeah,” George said.

“We’ve got a question for you,” they finished together.

“A question, for me? Now, what would that be?” You asked as you squeezed onto the bench in between the two despite the empty one just across from you. Although, you assumed Lee Jordan had been sitting there and was just off to use the loo as his bag was up above that spot.

“We’ll show you, but you’ve got to promise us you won’t show anybody,” George said as he pulled something out of his pocket.

“Anybody,” Fred echoed.

“I won’t show anybody, promise,” You spoke in the same playfully serious tone as the twins while George placed a blank piece of folded parchment onto your lap.

Fred placed the tip of his wand onto the map but caught your eye and held eye contact with you as he said, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good,” winking at you as he finished.

Before you maroon lines and lettering unfurled, curling onto the parchment.

‘The Marauders Map’

A smile found its way onto your face as you realized what was before you. Your eyes lighting up as they followed the script that started to write out names you recognized instantly.

‘Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs are proud to present,’

Your smile widened, you knew exactly what this was. Remus had told you plenty of stories of his and your fathers’ school antics, and the Marauders Map was often mentioned.

“Now, Black,” said George.

“That smile seems to say something,” said Fred.

“We’ve got a feeling,” they continued in unison. “That you know who created this masterpiece.”

You looked up at the two of them, your smile not at all lost. “What’s it to you?” you asked. Of course, you knew, but you loved messing around with them.

“Pure curiosity,” Fred smirked.

“Even if I do know who Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are, why should I tell you two?” You asked.

“Because you looove Fred,” George said, and you shot him a glare that easily could have killed him right where he sat. “Because we’re your favorite people at Hogwarts?” He said, quick to edit his sentence.

“Alright, but I want you to let me in on all of your pranks this year. Think about the benefits of having a prefect on your side,” you said, then smoothly leaning forward to allow the twins to deliberate in peace. They caught on in a matter of seconds.

“She’s not wrong,” started Fred, and he rested back against the seat.

“And she’s quite smart,” continued George, following his twin.

“And she has information we want.”

“And you do love her,” George teased his twin.

“And we can trust her,” Fred added in an attempt to ignore George’s jab at his long-standing crush.

“Alright then,” the twins said in harmony, and you all resumed your previous positions. “Who is it?” They asked you.

“Peter Pettigrew,” you started. “Remus Lupin, James Potter,” they breathed in, obviously not having expected to hear the name of Harry’s dad. “And Sirius Black.” You said, your chest swelling with pride.

“Your dad!” started Fred excitedly

“Was a marauder?” They asked at once, and you nodded.

“Well, that makes you pranking royalty,” George said and mocked a bow.

“I would say it does, now I am excited to be working with you two gentlemen this year.”

“We are honored to be in your presence, oh Queen of the Pranks,” Fred got off of his seat and turned to give you a proper bow, prompting another giggle from you, which you didn’t notice Fred blush bright red.

“Boys we have some work to do,” you said, offering your hand as you had seen Queens do before to Fred. He took your hand and gently placed a kiss on it, this time causing a soft blush to rise to your cheeks.

Your train ride continued to be full of playful banter between the four of you, the boys full of questions about your dad’s time at Hogwarts, and you were excited to answer them as best you could. Although in the end, you couldn’t help but be entirely grateful that Fred and George hadn’t written you off along with the rest of the school, even more thankful that they hadn’t also written off your dad. When you arrived at the school, you shared a carriage with the twins, Lee Jordan, and Angelina Johnson, none of whom seemed bothered by your presence. It appeared for the moment that this year wouldn’t be too bad. You expected to resume your spot on the quidditch team as a chaser along with those before you, and the pranks you had already begun planning with the twins occupied your mind.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!” Dumbledore caught the school’s attention as he assumed his place at the post at the top of the hall. “I have a few things to say before we become befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I’m pleased to welcome Professor R. J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts. Good luck, you, Professor.”

At this, the twins turned their eyes from Dumbledore to you, clearly asking if that was the Lupin you had said to be Moony of the Marauders, to which you confirmed with one nod.

“Wicked,” they said in unison, and you winked at them.

“As some of you may know, Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I’m delighted to announce that his place will be taken by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!”

You, along with few others who knew and appreciated Hagrid, applauded at this news as Hagrid rose from his seat and jovially waved at the school, although he nearly toppled the staff table, sending goblets over the side of the table.

“Finally, on a more disquieting note, at the request of the Ministry of Magic Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban. Now, whilst I’ve been assured until such a time as Sirius Black is captured.”

Whispers filled the Great Hall as you swallowed the nerves that rose in your throat as best you could

“Well we’ve got his daughter right over there. Why don’t we just give ’em her! She’s probably a murderer herself!” You heard a boy from the Slytherin table yell quite violently. His idea was supported by a few cheers from those around him and a girl who was sitting next to him following up.

“Yeah, how are we supposed to know she isn’t scheming to sneak in her murderous father to kill us all!” The girl yelled, and you could only feel yourself sinking into the bench as every Hogwarts student’s eyes were now on you.

“Oi! Pucey, watch it, or I’ll hex your ear off!” George quickly stood and yelled in your defense.

“That! Is quite enough!” Dumbledore boomed. “I will not have Miss Black questioned or judged for her being here. Anyone who wishes to contest this may bring it up directly with me.”

With that, Dumbledore continued on with his speech in particular regard to the presence of the dementors, but his words respecting you did nothing to ease the anxiety boiling in the pit of your stomach. At this point, you were wondering why you hadn’t followed in your mum’s steps and gone to Beauxbatons.

“Are you alright?” Fred asked, noting the color that had drained from your face.

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

Fred could tell you weren’t fine, and why should you be? He could feel the hostile looks coming from every corner of the room, some even coming from the professor’s table. He wanted to help in any way he could, and he knew that the most he could do is have your back for the time being.

When Dumbledore finally called this year’s feast to an end, you rose to your feet as Percy had asked you and Robert Greene, the other fifth year Gryffindor prefect, to walk the first years back to the common room.

You rose to your feet, “Your darling brother has decided I’ll be escorting the first years back to the common room, so I’ll see you back there after?” You honestly did not want to be left alone tonight and was hoping to spend more time with the twins.

“We’ll find a good spot by the fire,” George said, and you smiled at him, grateful.

You left and rounded up the first years, some of whom had no clue who you were and some who were clearly afraid of you and clung to the front of the line where Percy and Robert were. But you brushed it off. It wasn’t half as bad as Pucey calling you a murderer in front of the entire school. The walk didn’t last long, and Percy capitalized the whole thing to flaunt his power over the eleven-year-olds allowing you to remain silent and with your thoughts. You split when you made it to the common room, sure that Percy was so wrapped up in his spiel that he wouldn’t miss you.

“Black!” George wailed. “We’ve missed you dearly.”

“How could you dare to leave us for so long?” Fred cried, and you giggled at their antics, sitting on the couch next to Fred.

“I’m very, incredibly, sorry for the time I have spent away but do know that you were each on my heart and in my thoughts the entire time we were apart,” you joined in, causing Fred to laugh, which brought a shade of pink to your cheeks, recently you found how his laugh made the butterflies in your stomach ruffle their wings.

“Anyone else wanna know why Dumbledore’s let a murderer’s daughter live in our dorm?” you heard Seamus Finnigan say loudly enough for the entire common room to hear. “It makes me feel unsafe I don’t know about you.”

“Yeah if he comes to Hogwarts, this’ll be the first place he comes.”

You sharply rose to your feet and turned to face Finnigan, “Actually you’re right Finnigan, I’ve been in contact with my dad, who has been in Azkaban my entire life, planning to come to a school and kill a bunch of children. I am so so bummed you’ve found out my plan. So everyone keeps an eye open while you’re sleeping. I might just appear over your bed in the middle of the night, ready to murder you.”

As you were speaking, Fred and George stood to defend you. Meanwhile, Seamus’s face fell white with fear at your words.

“Anyways aren’t you meant to be a Gryffindor, Finnigan, aren’t you meant to be brave? Because speaking behind people’s backs is about the most cowardly thing someone can do,” you said, anger rising in you. Although, you did not notice Professor McGonagall enter as you were talking.

“She deserves to be here just as much as the rest of you,” Fred boomed to the now silent common room.

“Good evening, everyone,” McGonagall cut in. “I was planning to come up tonight to ensure that Miss Black was being respected as a peer and as a prefect although that clearly hasn’t happened,” she said, shooting a look at Seamus Finnigan. “As she just said, it is expected that you as Gryffindors conduct yourselves with bravery and with understanding for your peers. Should any of you feel that you do not have to listen to or that you are above Y/n because of her parentage, you can come to me for a detention. I will not permit any intolerance of her presence. Is that understood?”

A few people started slowly nodding, causing the rest of your housemates to nod in understanding of what Professor McGonagall had to say.

“Good, now I will be taking ten points from our house for Mr. Finnigan’s comments,” a groan fell over the room, “You shall also be meeting me for detention in my office tomorrow night at seven. However, ten points to Miss Black and ten points to Mr. Weasley for standing up for oneself and for one’s friends.” With that, Professor McGonagall left, leaving the Gryffindors in silence.

“Go about your nights,” Percy called to the house, and everyone dispersed, although you heard the drama start to circulate, no matter what McGonagall said, you knew that you would never escape the judgement of your peers.

“Merlin, and classes haven’t even started yet,” you huffed as you collapsed back onto the couch next to Fred.

“We’ve got your back, Y/n,” Fred said as he put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Promise,” you implored.

“Promise,” he assured.

chapter two