#maraudeds band

[daystarpoet]

★﹐my boyfriend's in a band．﹗﹑

james potter x reader. rockstar!au. the marauders as a band. f!reader implied, though could be anybody. seeing your guitarist bf backstage.

the marauders. a rising rock band in the 70s british music scene. they had everything they needed to be successful. they were a band of four (attractive) young men with a great aesthetic and sound. they were bound to reach stardom.

safe to say, the boys had their fanbase. dozens of young girls—and even some boys—were obsessed with them, and not just because of their music.

james and sirius were the two for whom fangirls particularly drooled over. they'd send them love letters, confessions, and even personal posesions.

all of these attempts were rather frutile, since sirius was too busy in a messy relationship with the band's drummer, remus, and james was already taken by non-other than you.

when I say taken, I mean happily taken. blissfully taken. eve since james and you had begun to date, the band had surprisingly started to release more and more love songs. all of them written by yours truly james potter.

tonight, they were playing a bigger show than usual. james had been both excited and nervous for one week straight. he had begged you to be there. it meant so much to him.

throughout the whole gig, james' eyes never left yours from the stage. you were standing more at the back, in order not to get recognized by the fans. every now and then, he would shoot a smile and blow a kiss in your direction.

soon enough, the show was over, and the venue eventually became empty. james was talking to sirius, his cheeks still flushed from the adrenaline, and his curls sticking to his tan skin. his glasses were titled and slightly damp.

you opened the door, and his head shot in your direction with a big grin on his face. he ran to you and picked you up. "how'd I do, luv? i was great, right? I felt great." he rambled.

"you were, james, you always are." you replied to him, with a smile in your own lips. "yeah?" he asked. "mhm. definitely." you replied.

"oh, don't feed the wanker's ego!" sirius chimed in from a few steps away. remus and peter laughing from the corner at his friend's behaviour.

"thank you so much for coming." he cupped your cheeks and kissed you.

[moonstainn]

My first prompt for @marauderswithpalestineproject !

Wolfstar band au for astronomybrainrot :]

[fircbolts]

sirius black 🎙️🎶✨

[not-rab]

Barty: Why do you look like that?

Regulus: Like what

Barty: Like you’re dead

Regulus: It’s because I’m dying, leave me here to perish

Pandora: Regulus accidentally called Potter “James” in front of everyone today

Regulus: *sobs on the floor*

[asmo-d3us]

The Slytherin Skittles are in a band.

They’re named The Pantheons.

Regulus sings.

Barty plays lead guitar.

Evan plays bass guitar.

Dorcas plays the drums.

They play Supermassive Black Hole by Muses.

I need therapy immediately because..dear god.

[claudufus]

I love the marauders band au bc it has so much potential, I mean imagine the interviews.

Give me Remus doing the buzzfeed interview with puppies, give me James and Sirius doing the wired autocomplete interview. Give me Regulus doing a what’s in my bag, Give me Peter beating everyone at an art challenge. Give me Sirius and James prank calling people on Elle.

I WANT IT ALL.

[dellaray]

I will forever see him as young Moony. Idk where it came from but Damon Albarn has always reminded me of Remus so here’s a dedicated post in hopes I convince someone else.

Cheers.

[fourthemarauders]

Marauders band au

Interviewer:"So,what is sirius to you"

Remus:"The reason I wake up every morning"

Interviewer:"That's adorable"

Sirius *earlier that morning barging into remus's room, smacking Pans together*:"WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP"

[mischievousmoony]

𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛

⟢ rockstar!sirius black x reader ⟢ you do your boyfriends makeup before he goes on stage ⊹ 1.2k ⟢ warnings/tags: just fluff ⟢ note: inspired by luke hemmings (my beloved) because i think sometimes his wife does his makeup!

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Keep your head still,” you mutter, lifting the brush from your boyfriend’s eyelid momentarily as to not mess up your work.

Sirius’ head had dipped down again, his attention being drawn elsewhere. His hands squeeze at your waist, “I can’t help it. You look ravishing tonight, darling.”

You hook your pointer finger under his chin and bring his unabashed eyes back to yours, shaking your head disapprovingly as you do, which only makes him look even more brazen.

“Close your eyes,” you command softly as your hand slides up his face, your thumb finding its way to his cheekbone to brush off some powdery fallout.

Sirius hums in protest. “You said I didn’t have to right now.”

“Now I’m saying you do,” your voice is teasing, yet he finds it melodic.

Sirius playfully huffs but lets his eyes flutter closed, reasoning with himself that while he may not be able to see you, he can relish in your touch. The hands on your waist travel to the small of your back to ease you closer until you stand between his legs, which he presses into your sides once he has you where he wants you.

You graciously let your boyfriend move you as he pleases while you coat your eyeshadow brush in a murky blue pigment. You give it a tap on the edge of the palette to shake off any excess before returning the bristles to his eyelid. You’re going for a smokey blue look tonight, incorporating Sirius' staple component: glitter, of course.

Your pinky grazes his neck as you move to tilt his head, giving you better access to the left side of his face. You feel a content rumble from his throat below the tip of your finger.

Sirius’ large hands slowly drag up and down your back until they diverge, one going up to rest between your shoulder blades and the other stooping lower until he can grab at the back of your thigh.

You ignore the way it has your stomach in knots. Sirius is trying to distract you with the way his hand curls around your leg, his fingertips brushing gently against your inner thigh. But he's due to be on stage any minute now, so you need to finish his eyeshadow swiftly and send him on his way.

The shiver down your spine is goes ignored as you place the eyeshadow brush on the table. Your hands find either side of his jaw as you tilt his head side to side, making sure you're happy with your blending of the shades of blue.

"Done?" Sirius asks, eye still closed.

"Almost."

You find a clean, new brush— the one you like for packing on pigment— and dip it into a shimmery, blue glitter. You begin to pack it onto his lids. If you had been doing your own makeup, you would normally hold a tissue or piece of card stock under your eye to catch any specks of glitter that rained down on your cheeks. Sirius, however, likes the way the excess glitter looks, sometimes even opting to smudge extra below his eyes, dragging it nearly halfway down his cheeks.

Once finished with the glitter, you do the same as before, turning his head in your hands to inspect your work.

"Done now?" Sirius is getting fidgety. He can usually sit pretty for you, captivated by your beauty, he says. But since he had to be cheeky and force you to command that his eyes be closed, he's getting a little antsy.

"Patience," you mean to scold him, but you can never waver your tone from amusement with him.

Originally, this is the finished product that you planned. But upon seeing it, you think he needs a pop of brightness. Choosing a more precise packing brush for the job, you add a white shimmer to his inner corners.

As you pull the brush away from his face, you're instantly happy with your decision.

"Okay, open," you say warmly.

Sirius is more than happy to oblige. You're inspecting the shadow in your usual way and Sirius drinks you in. Your teeth drag over your bottom lip, and he can barely help himself from capturing it in between his own pearly whites.

Your gaze is scrutinizing, and Sirius can tell that you're not all the way happy with the look.

"What is it?" Sirius asks. Expecting something to be off, his hand travels from between your shoulder blades to the nape of your neck, playing with your hairs there the way you like in an effort to bring you comfort.

"No, it's rather lovely. It's just—" your eyes dart down to his lips and it takes a lot of restraint to not interrupt you by smashing his own against them— "I know you usually only do your eyes, but this look would be stunning with some glossy lips."

"Yeah?" Sirius is the one eyeing your lips now, "Like what you have on now?"

You're wearing a pinky, translucent gloss with flecks of glitter in it. For Sirius, you were thinking any old clear gloss would do, but the more glitter the better.

You tilt your head side to side, weighing the options.

"That could work, let me grab it out of my—"

Any restraint Sirius once had snaps, and your words are lost on your tongue when he pulls you in by your neck, capturing your lips in a fervid kiss.

You're not even caught off guard, used to being interrupted by Sirius' lips.

"You can't expect to run that pretty mouth of yours for long before I can't resist a taste," he always says.

His one hand remains on the back of your thigh, his fingertips digging into your pillow soft skin when your lips part for him, allowing his tongue entrance. He can taste the vodka cran you've been sipping, prompting a guttural sound from his throat that vibrates against your lips.

When he pulls away from you, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth like he'd been longing to, dragging them over the plump flesh slowly until your lip freely bounces back into place.

"How's that look?" Sirius asks, his voice huskier than usual.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, slightly swollen and coated in a sheen of your shiny pink gloss.

"You're a dream, baby," you say breathlessly, running a thumb around his plush lips to capture the excess gloss, "Wanna see?"

You don't wait for his answer before you're snatching up a hand mirror, ready to show off tonight's eye look.

"Stunning as always," Sirius murmurs, admiring your handiwork with quiet approval. When you weren't around, his makeup consisted of a smudge of glitter to his lids with the pad of his finger. Though, despite your willingness to teach, he'd never risk sharpening his skills, worried there would be less moments like these in the future if he did.

"That's just my canvas," you muse, smoothing your thumb against his jawline.

There's a knock on the door, jolting you out of your moment of admiration. A muffled voice calls, "You're on in five, Sirius!"

Sirius doesn't seem phased, a smirk dancing on his lips as he pushes your body close again, "I guess we have a few more minutes on our hands."

By the time has to rush to stage, you've had to hastily apply a new coat of gloss on both him and yourself, the original layer having been thoroughly kissed away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[pigeartpng]

Both versions cz i cant choose wich is my fav!

Alr ik james isnt supposed to have his glasses on stage in tcoptp BUT I JUST CANT IMAGINE JAMES POTTER WITHOUT GLASSES 😞🤚

And ik hes most likely not the type to to get a tattoo but i cant imagine he hasnt been jealous of remus ever since he got lily's initials tatted across his chest and didnt get his own lily initials tattoo as soon as he could

ANYWAY thats how i imagine them on stage, james and sirius would sooo be in their own bestie bubble sometimes and scream lyrics looking at each other and shit, theyd be the best stage duo ever

@motswolo

[e1derel]

band au

[beatrixshifts]

"everybody's falling in love and i'm falling behind" except it's because i'm so deeply in love with someone in another reality that it's physically impossible for me to like anyone else here

[moonstainn]

Biggest fan

[fircbolts]

remus lupin 🎸🫶🏼✨

[myrows]

James is not paid enough for this

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)

absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: rockstar au !! fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: drummer reader, some real 'where does the performance end and you begin' vibes, reader smokes, it's inferred that they're also drinking, y'all will have to pry bestie peter from my cold dead hands

a/n: oh uuuuuh more pining more yearning more I'm in love with you but I'm too afraid to make it real. like what if you were all in a band and you were all in love and you were all too scared of fucking it all up to say anything

"You're looking awful glum tonight," James points out as he leans against the railing of the balcony you're on. He doesn't reprimand you for sitting on the railing, but he does frown as he glances down to where the ground is, inching closer to you to place a firm hand on your thigh.

"I called the car around - I'm going back to the hotel. You can let the others know if they notice," you respond in a sigh, the smoke leaving your lungs on the exhale as you bring your cigarette to your lips for another drag.

"…Are you sober right now, love?" James asks, eyeing you carefully. You look at him bemusedly.

"You think I came to a party after our show and… didn't have a single drink?"

"Well…" he says carefully. You narrow your eyes and James grips your thigh a little tighter - a plead for you to hear him out. "You weren't exactly the life of the party tonight, lovely. You disappeared pretty quick. If you have been drinking, that means you've been doing it out here - alone, sitting very precariously on a very high balcony, with no one looking out for you." You've stopped looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the expansive driveway out front of whoever's house this is. When you see your car pull up, you put out your cigarette easily on the railing before sliding off of it, letting James keep a hand firmly on you, sliding from your thigh up to your waist.

"I don't need a babysitter, James," you say bluntly, but you can't help but soften a bit at the wide, sad eyes he gives you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. You wonder idly if he realizes he looks at you so often like he's a puppy you've just kicked. "I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsals," you offer gently before you slip away.

In the safety of the backseat of your car, tinted windows blocking out the gaze of the outside world, you let your head lean back against the seat, sighing and closing your eyes as you rub at your temples. The relief is short-lived, however, as the car door is pulled open and James slides into the seat next to you, grinning despite the glare you sent him.

"Didn't really think I'd let you go sit at the hotel sulking all night, did you?" He quips. You bristle.

"I don't sulk," you huff. His smile widens as the car pulls away.

"Sure you don't, sweetheart." He throws an arm around your shoulders and you let him, sighing as you lean against him, resting your head against his chest. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.

"Nothing," is your quick reply. He hums thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair gently.

"Wanna try again?" He's still gentle, a patience seeping from him into you that lulls you as you relax further against him.

"It's just a lot sometimes. I'm tired is all," you admit. James presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your heart does something funny in your chest.

"You're allowed to take a break every now and then, love," he offers. You tense.

"I don't need -"

"No, but you still can," he placates, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he silently coaxes you into relaxing once more. "I know you don't need to. God knows you'll run on fumes forever and never say a thing about it. But you don't need to - not here, not with us."

James, in all his mother-hen nature, continues to reprimand you in that gentle, caring way of his all the way up to your hotel room, only stopping when you shut yourself in the bathroom and turn the tap on so that you can't hear him. By the time you come out in clothes that are decidedly much more comfortable than what you'd been wearing at the party, he's lounging in your bed and flipping idly through TV channels.

"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you quip as you flop onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard. James grins in that beaming way that he's so fond of, turning the TV volume down to a low, background hum.

"Thanks, love." You scoff at his words.

"Are you planning on staying here all night?" You ask wearily. He pretends to think about it.

"What will you do if I leave?" You shrug, sliding further down in bed and crossing your arms. James opens his mouth to speak and you know he's going to say something about you sulking, so you make a point to wack him with a pillow before he can. He laughs good-naturedly about it, though, so you're not so sure what you've accomplished.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you don't have time to ponder it further before your hotel room door is swinging open and Sirius is flouncing into the room, Remus trailing in after him. You sigh and look at Remus imploringly, but he only shrugs, leaning towards you to squeeze your shoulder in what you're sure is supposed to be comforting before he settles in the armchair next to the bed. Sirius, on the other hand, takes to flopping directly across the bottom of the bed, landing on James's legs and causing some sort of friendly tussle between the two of them.

"This is actually my hotel room, you know," you point out dryly. "How did you even get in here?"

"You gave Peter your spare key," Remus points out.

"Peter doesn't come in unannounced," you shoot back. Sirius and James stop whatever roughhousing they're caught up in so that Sirius can lean over and press a sweaty kiss to your cheek. You click your tongue in annoyance and hope it hides the way your heart flips.

"Cheer up, doll," Sirius says, unperturbed by your scowl. "What were you playing at, anyway? Leaving without telling any of us and thinking we wouldn't notice? Like we wouldn't miss our favourite drummer." You shoot James a look that says you shouldn't have told them and he smiles disarmingly.

"Just because I'm staying in tonight doesn't mean you all have to - and I'm your only drummer, Sirius, in case you've forgotten," you say icily. Sirius smiles, but it's more honest than you're used to, and he reaches across James to smooth a thumb over your cheek quickly before pulling back.

"Could never forget you, love. Not even if I tried." You stare at him, his tone heavier than normal, as Remus shifts and clears his throat.

"Anyway, dove… we just want to make sure you're alright, yea?" He says, and you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding as the tension dissipates. 

"Everything's fine," you say stubbornly. "I just didn't really feel like being there tonight."

"Well, we can see that," James chimes in. "But you always go to these things. You -"

"I know, I know, ok? I won't - it won't happen like that again, all right?" You huff. "I won't leave like that."

"No, see, I'm not sure you're understanding what Jamie's saying, love," Sirius says, the softness in his voice making your heart drop. It takes a lot for Sirius to be gentle, and he only does it when he thinks he really needs it. "What we're saying is that you don't have to. Pete never goes to the parties - we haven't kicked him out of the band yet, have we?"

"But that's different," you sigh, sitting up straighter. "Pete and I… are different kinds of performers. You know that." Remus leans forward in his chair to put a hand on your knee and you will yourself not to flinch at the contact, not to shy away from the kindness in his eyes that you know he reserves for the people he really loves.

"You don't have to perform here, love," Remus says gently. "You don't have to do that. Not here, not when it's just us." Your bottom lip trembles and you bunch the covers of the bed in your hands.

"Sometimes I think, for you lot, this life is fun… and for me, it's still work. I just can't make myself see it the way you guys do."

"But that's what we're here for," James offers, his voice kind. "Let us help you out. We decided to do this together for a reason, right? You decided to stick with us for a reason."

"I… I did, yea," you say.

"Yea," Sirius repeats. "So let us be here, alright?" Remus rubs his thumb across your knee as the other two look at you expectantly. You smile, a terse, small sort of thing - but it works nonetheless.

"Alright," you sigh. "Together, then."