#moony HAS to be next to padfoot

[starchaserdreams]

In case anyone thought I was kidding about printing out AO3 comments and sticking them on my fridge, I WAS NOT.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Bestfriend!Remus with no boundaries

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“Where’s Y/N?” Remus asked as he entered the dorm, setting his bag down by the door. James and Sirius exchanged an entertained glance.

“How should we know, Moony?” Sirius replied, going back to his book. James chuckled as he polished his broom.

“Hmm,” Remus hummed inquisitively, “she told me she was gonna meet me here after class.” Sirius put his book down in his lap,

“Maybe she finally found some other guy.” James choked on a laugh and dropped his polish. Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius’ smirk, opening the window to smoke.

“Oh, shut up you prat. She’s probably just running late,” Remus said with a cigarette between his lips. As if on cue, you barged through the door, huffing as you dropped your bag next to Remus’.

“Ugh, sorry Rem. Those Slytherin bitches hexed me on my way up here,” you hissed, stomping over to Remus and taking the cigarette out from his mouth. He laughed lazily at you as you angrily puffed in smoke, eyeing you up and down.

“Well, you look fine. Did they hurt you at all?” Remus asked, rubbing his hands along your hips and inspecting every inch of your body for injuries. You huffed out a laugh.

“Nah, I gave them what they deserved,” you smirked, “here.” You placed the cigarette back between his lips, his hands still lingering on your waist as he smoked. The two of you passed the cigarette back and forth like this, Remus eventually pulling you into his lap on his bed to show you his new muggle book while the two of you shared a fag.

“This chapter has been my favorite,” he said, pointing to the pages, his other hand holding you firm against his leg. You hummed as you smoked, your breasts near his face as you leaned in to read the chapter title. He squeezed your thigh and looked up at you with parted lips. You placed the cigarette back in his mouth before giving him a hug into your chest.

“You’re such a nerd,” you laughed, ruffling his hair. Sirius made a gagging noise from across the room.

“You guys are disgusting. Just shag already!” Sirius said with a displeased look on his face. You threw Remus’ pillow at his head.

“Sirius, shut the fuck up. You know we’re just friends,” you rolled your eyes, standing up off of Remus’ lap, “but if you want to kiss me…” you puckered your lips at him before cracking up.

“Hey, I’ll take you up on that offer,” James said with a cheeky smile. You chuckled with a light blush, you always thought James was cute. Remus stood up behind you and pulled you back into his lap.

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Remus laughed as you feigned a pout towards James who returned a laugh.

“As if I’d want Moony’s sloppy seconds,” Sirius grumbled, but you could’ve sworn you saw a blush on his face.

“Hey, watch your mouth, Padfoot,” Remus clicked his tongue at Sirius, earning another grumble from the boy.

“I’m offended Siri. Who do you think I am?” You scoffed, placing a hand over your heart.

“Oh, just Remus’ best friend,” Sirius snarked, grumbling as he returned to his book. James laughed again and went over to his bunk.

“It’s okay, Pads. I’m your best friend,” James aid, falling forward onto his bed with a loud thump. You and Remus’ started cracking up as Sirius struggled under James’ weight. You turned your attention back to Remus.

“You wanna come get dinner with me?” You asked Remus, twirling his hair between your fingers. He met your eyes with a smile.

“I’d love nothing more.”

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x muggle fem!reader

Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.

Genre: Fluff <3 / pt.2 to Enchanted

Warnings: tbh none

6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.

He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.

James sees the title; "Bewitched". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like Samantha does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing. 

"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses. 

He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble. 

"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?" 

James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.

He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you? 

"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him. 

"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?" 

James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.

"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.

At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms. 

The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."

"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens. 

He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."

"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.

James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard." 

He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.

He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.

You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James. 

You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."

You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs. 

"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."

"Gryff-what won what?"

"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."

You look at him and James can't read your expression.

"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.

Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.

"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.

"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.

"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"

You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"

James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears. 

Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound. 

"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him. 

You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you. 

"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"

"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.

You nod. 

James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips. 

"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile. 

James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says. 

You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"

James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order. 

James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.

"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you. 

He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."

"Why?"

"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.

"You WhAT?!"

[m00neroni]

prompt: patronus. @wolfstarmicrofic word count: 739 september 8th ao3 post

“This is impossible” Sirius huffs and sits back in one of the few scattered chairs around the DADA classroom, clearly defeated. “What’s that shit about happy memories? Fucking idiotic, it’s not even working.”

“Have we finally found a spell that not even the great Sirius Black can perform? Should we call the Prophet? Inform the Ministry?” James jokes from his seat at Remus’ right, and he only receives a glare in return, when any other person would have been hexed into the next year just before they finished the sentence.

Remus considers it a bit hypocritical, seeing as James is also struggling with it, only having managed to conjure a faint silvery mist, the same as Peter. Remus, for his part, hasn’t even tried yet, scared of its possible corporal form.

Still, he knows the drill and can help his friend.

“You’re thinking too much and too loud, Sirius.” He says, kindly, because the other boy’s frustration is too evident and it seems like the best approach. “Which memory are you using?”

“When the Hat sent me to Gryffindor.” Sirius replies, almost in a whisper, genuinely pouting like a baby.

“See? That’s the problem.” Remus says. “That memory isn’t good enough.”

“Why not?” His friend frowns, clearly confused but he doesn’t look hurt or offended. “It’s the happiest memory I can think of.”

“But it’s tainted, Pads.” He presses, not unkindly, and leans forward to touch Sirius’ forearm. “You were stressed and worried and your family were horrible just about twenty minutes later it happened. You need something without negative connotations.”

“Excellent piece of advice, Mr Lupin!” Professor Musgrove’s voice hollers from behind them. “Our chosen memories must be as pure as possible, free of bad feelings. Even if we think happiness is overruling them, sometimes the hurt is too sharp to be defeated. Please, my boy and resident assistant teacher, will you demonstrate the spell to the class?”

“Sir, I don’t–”

“I insist!” The man ignores him. “Your theoretical knowledge should be enough, and you clearly are in control of your feelings.”

Yeah, I wish I was, you twat.

Remus grimaces towards his friends, trying not to notice how Sirius is staring right into his eyes, and stands up. He should have shut up, but Sirius needed his help and he just… Whatever now, too late. 

The werewolf closes his eyes and tries to find a good memory, quickly falling for the morning of the first Full Moon after his three mates knew what happened to him once a month, about the monster. After the moment they accepted him completely, and without asking anything in return. It might go against the idea of it not being tainted by bad sensations (the transformation is horrible on its own, obviously) but the happiness he felt when he woke up and saw Sirius sleeping in that uncomfortable chair right next to his bed. 

The others have joined here and there, but Sirius has always been the constant feature. It is he who Remus thinks about for this.

“Expecto Patronum.”

He would have known it had worked even without the collective gasp of his classmates, just by how the air moves around him and the tip of his fingers tickle. It is a wonderful sensation, so, even if he is scared shitless of facing the reality and whatever comes next, Remus opens his eyes slowly. 

The silvery figure is clearly and evidently canine and massive, but that is where the similarities with Moony end. The snout is different, the ears bigger and the paws less menacing. Even the doggy grin is an exact replica of Padfoot’s.

Remus’ hearts stop for a second there, but he can’t look anywhere else, too entranced and shocked by the implications. 

“Amazing! Look at that–!”

“Expecto Patronum.”

Sirius’ deep voice cuts the air and the teacher’s praising, conjuring a mist that quickly takes form almost as big as the one in front of Remus, a shape that he hasn’t seen in front of him ever in his life but has been described enough to him that Remus could recognise anywhere. The eyes, though, are the exact same ones he sees in the mirror every day, and he has almost a full minute to be shocked before the impressive spirit of Moony joins Padfoot in a tackle game.

“Well, who could have expected this?” James chuckles, and Remus finally looks at Sirius.

Who could have expected this, indeed. 

[elegantlyeva]

Can you please do shy!reader with Sirius? but she's a little more comfortable with him? and maybe something with gifts

DAY FIVE

Priceless

Summary: Finding the perfect gift for his perfect person was harder than Sirius thought.

Word Count: 1.1k 

After hours of dragging his feet through shops and flirting his way out of a scolding from two old women—because he shoved their kids trying to get to the front of the line—Sirius has decided he’s done with the holidays.

“What’s wrong with him?” Remus’s voice cut through the haze. He must’ve just gotten out of class.

“He’s being insufferable,��� James replied with the kind of dramatic eye roll Sirius didn’t need to see to picture.

He groaned, sinking further into his chair.

“Is it the girl again?” Remus asks, placing his stuff on the table.

“Of course it’s the girl. It’s all he talks about anymore,” James yelps when Sirius brings his hand to smack the back of his head. “Ow.”

“You’re speaking of me like I’m not right here.”

“You’re acting like a sad lump. I told you, girls are easy. Get her flowers and write her name on them.”

“That’s impersonal,” Sirius muttered. “She’s not just any girl. She’s…” He trailed off, not knowing how to put it into words. She was perfect, but that hardly covers it.

“Why don’t you just ask her what she wants?” Remus asks, confused. James answers for Sirius.

“You’ll be alone forever, Moony. What girl wants you to ask? We’re supposed to know what they want.”

“Sounds like rubbish to me.”

“Enough. Both of you. You’re horrible friends and even less help,” Sirius groans.

Remus gives him a kind look and a pat on the shoulder. “S’alright, Padfoot. Have you gotten her anything to work with?”

Sirius sighs, nodding his head. “Practically something from every shop at Hogsmeade.”

“There’s the creepy drawing as well,” James brings up.

“Creepy drawing?”

“I’ll turn your hair green and say you did it to show your admiration toward Severus,” Sirius warns.

James puts his hands up in surrender.

Remus sighs. “Can we please stay on topic? What creepy drawing?”

“I had Roger Hughes help me paint this photograph of her and me together.”

“That’s nice,” Remus says. “What’s the problem?”

“Sirius is a horrible boyfriend,” James quips.

“I’m not her boyfriend,” he replies, rather mournfully. You had told him you wanted to move slowly, and he’s sure it’s because you think he’ll drop you for the next girl.

“I’m worried it’s too much,” he says instead.

“Why don’t you give her a label for the holidays?” James mumbles. Remus hushes him before Sirius can strangle the boy.

James gave a dramatic sigh. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

Sirius let the conversation drop, gesturing for them to change the subject.

Two days later, he found you by yourself, your bag slung over your shoulder as you made your way through the corridor. He stepped up behind you, reaching for the handle of your bag to take it off your shoulder.

You flinched, and he cursed inwardly. “Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling his hand back, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you smiled softly, letting him take your bag. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be looking for me.”

“No? Well, clearly they’ve been poisoned. I would’ve come looking for you earlier had I thought you’d be alone.” He takes your hand in his free one.

You laughed quietly. “Most of my friends have left for break already.”

“Shame,” he said, then added, “Good thing I found you before you started pining for their company.” He laced his fingers through yours, watching as a small smile tugged at your lips.

“Actually,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “I got you something.”

Your smile faltered slightly. “Why?”

Sirius blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean why? It’s the holidays, love.”

You narrowed your eyes. “I thought we agreed not to do gifts. You said it was too… relationship-y.”

“That was different!” Sirius protested, squeezing your hand again. “That was for my birthday. You shouldn’t be spending money on me.”

You frowned, clearly unconvinced. “You spent money on me.”

Sirius tsks. “Hush, woman. Let me finish.” Your glare and the urge to kiss you overtakes him, but he keeps his hands to himself.

“Before I give it to you, two things. One, if you poke fun at me, I’ll be heartbroken forever. Two, if you hate it or think it’s creepy—”

“Did you get me a voodoo doll or something?”

“Wh—no.” He frowns. “As I was saying, if you think it’s weird or whatever, I can give you some of the stuff I got you at Hogsmeade. Or if you really want, I can get you basic flowers like James suggested.”

You smile hesitantly, bringing a finger to poke him in the side. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

He sighs. “Yeah, you would say that now.” He grabs something out of his bag—a poorly wrapped square... something.

He makes a move to hand it to you but takes it back. “Open it when I’m gone.”

“Sirius.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed, finally giving you the package.

You pulled him over to a window ledge, sitting down as you carefully unwrapped it. Your expression softened immediately, face contorting to one of surprise, then fondness. “Oh.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, nerves creeping back in. “Oh?”

“Oh,” you repeat.

He sighs. “Darling, I’m gonna need more than that. Is that a good ‘oh’ or a bad ‘oh’?”

“Very pleased ‘oh,’” you say, smiling, cheeks feeling warm.

Relief washed over him. “Yeah?”

It’s a picture—well, a painting—of the two of you. A very pretty one at that. The two of you are outside on the lawn, and Sirius had said something that evidently made you laugh. The way his eyes are painted almost convinces you that he likes you. Like really, really likes you.

“I didn’t know you could draw, much less paint,” you add, a light tease in your words, but your eyes look so kind that he hardly cares.

“I can’t. Well, I couldn’t. I had to pay this Ravenclaw—Hughes—more than I’m willing to admit to teach me how.” 

Then, uncharacteristically nervous, “So, you like it?” You were staring rather hard.

You lean over to press a kiss to his cheek, surprising him for the first time that day.

“I love it. It’s pretty.” wrinkling your nose sweetly, “you put thought into it.”

“Don’t get sappy now.” Then, softer, “I’d like to be your boyfriend.”

He hears your breath hitch, and he’s ready to mask his hurt feelings when you respond, “I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

Sirius grinned, his confidence returning. “Yeah? Means you can’t get all cozy with other boys.”

“What other boys?” you ask, confused and a little dazed, still looking at the painting with adoration.

“Tricked you. If you agreed, I would know you’re seeing heaps of people.”

You laugh, and he can’t help himself any longer, pressing his lips to yours.

You tense at first but soon melt into him, eyes closed and lips soft.

When you pull away, matching smiles are on your faces.

[my-castles-crumbling]

unrequited - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 535

"Is Your Love Unrequited? A Quiz for the Wishing Witch," James read from his stolen copy of Witch Weekly.

Sirius laughed, leaning his head back on Remus's lap, nudging his arm to signal he'd like the taller boy to play with his hair. "Go on, then."

"If you answer yes to five or more of these questions, he's interested," James continued, settling back on his pillow and skimming over the text. "Oh, this is.." he rolled his eyes, making a gagging noise.

"No, read it, I need something to wash all the Arithmancy from my brain, my head aches!" Sirius pushed, groaning only a little when Remus's magical hands moved to massage his temples.

"Alright. First, he initiates physical contact," James recited, eyes flickering up at Remus and Sirius.

Remus's hand stuttered for a second, but continued, combing through his hair. "Obviously those editors don't know Padfoot," he laughed. "Remember the time he greeted every new first-year with a hug?"

James and Peter both chortled. "I forgot about that!" Peter laughed.

"Two, he remembers details about you," James read, smirking a bit.

Again, Remus's hand stalled before continuing.

"Well, I'm fucked. I have a shit memory," Peter piped up, breaking the awkward silence.

Remus looked down at Sirius for a second, meeting his eyes. Damn, Remus's eyes were so beautiful. He could stare at them for days..

"Three, he makes lots of eye contact," James continued, shocking Sirius out of his thoughts.

Remus's hand stopped completely, now, coming to rest on Sirius's shoulder. "So...I can't make eye contact without girls thinking I fancy them?" he joked halfheartedly. But the entire time, he was looking at Sirius.

"Maybe I should stare at Evans more..." James murmured, only for the other three boys to interrupt with a chorus of "No!"s.

But Sirius felt a bit nervous, now. This was becoming more than a coincidence. "What's the next one, Prongs?"

"Erm, yeah. Four. He gets jealous when you've dated other people," James read.

Sirius froze, mulling this over in his mind. All the times he'd avoided being with Remus when Remus brought a girl to Hogsmeade. All the times Remus had seemed extra moody after he'd brought someone back to the dorm...

"Blimey, sounds like Pads and Moony!" Peter said unhelpfully, an oblivious grin on his face. "I don't think either of them has ever liked someone the other was dating!"

Sirius cleared his throat awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with Remus, now. "Ha, yeah," he muttered. "Last one, Prongs?" Might as well get it over with.

James looked back at the magazine, only to laugh out loud. "Five," he read with relish. "He introduces you to his friends."

Silence.

"A strong foundation of friendship and mutual friends is important in a relationship. If he wants you to be friends with his-" James continued with a shit-eating grin.

"Alright," Sirius interrupted, head still on Remus's lap. He sat up, looking at Remus.

Remus looked back nervously.

"Well, Moony. That's five for five. According to the magazine, we're mad for each other. What do you think?" he asked hesitantly.

"I think James and Peter need to leave the room," came Remus's reply, making Sirius grin like an idiot.

[marauder-misprint]

Klepto

Regulus Black x fem!Slytherin!reader (Sirius Black x reader is endgame)

part 1 part 2 part 3

3k words

cw: swearing, fluff, Y/N

Slytherin girls didn’t need alarms to wake up Monday morning. They were woken up by shrieking at the end of the girls’ hallway. Dorcas was the first one to actually get out of bed and open the door. Girls were poking their heads out of their dorms all the way down the hall. A fifth year prefect walked to the source of the shrieking. 

“What’s that horrid noise?” Cora groaned, rolling over and putting her pillow over her head.

“Dunno…” Dorcas said.

The shrieking got momentarily louder, then silent and then it returned. The prefect talked to Dorcas and then moved on. She closed the door and groaned loudly.

“Williams lost some necklace and is freaking out. She decided to make it our problem this morning.”

Unable to fall back asleep, the girls got ready for the day. As they walked to breakfast together, it appeared all the girls in Slytherin house had the same issue. You thought the table never looked this full this early on a Monday. Sitting down, you pulled Williams’ necklace out from under your shirt.

“Oh, that’s a pretty necklace!” Beatrice told her. “I’ve never seen you wear it before. New?”

“New to me,” you smirked. 

“Noooo,” Beatrice responded.

“Oh, don’t be sore. She started it.”

“Who started what?” Dorcas asked, looking up from her paper.

“Klepto’s new necklace. Guess where she got it?” Beatrice said.

“No!” Dorcas exclaimed.

“Williams?” Cora hissed.

You nodded and the girls groaned. 

“You caused me to wake up almost an hour before I wanted to!” Cora exclaimed. 

“Worth it.”

---

Sirius didn’t bring up Regulus’s crush to his friends until Potions class on Monday.

“I figured out who Reg wants to ask out,” he said to James, who was stirring a potion counterclockwise.

“... seven…eight…nine…ten,” he counted, not responding.

“Moony? Do you want to know?” Sirius asked, leaning back his chair so it stood on its back legs.

“Cutting beetroots right now…”

“I’ll bite, Padfoot. Who?” Peter asked, moving his textbook so Remus could see it better.

“Y/N,” he said in a low voice. 

Peter looked over a few tables to where you were working with Beatrice. 

“The girl from the party? Huh.”

“Yup. He has good taste.”

“Your parents would never approve,” James said, not taking his eyes off the cauldron.

“And why’s that? She’s a Slytherin?”

“Half-blood.”

“Oh.”

“Maybe it’s his hidden life-long dream to get burned off the Black Family Tree,” Remus suggested, sliding the beetroot slices into his cauldron. 

“Ha. That’s mine,” Sirius said. “If it were his, we’d be friends.”

“You gave him decent dating advice,” Remus reminded him. “I’d say that’s enough to call you two friends.”

“Since it’s the only time we talked pleasantly all year, we’ll call it acquaintances.” 

Peter snorted. That caught Slughorn’s attention. He walked slowly past the boys. 

“Lupin, carrying Pettigrew again, are we?” he asked, giving Peter a side glance.

“Just working with my table partner, sir,” Remus answered, not looking up from his potion. 

“I expect to see you do something more than joke around by the end of the lesson, Pettigrew,” Slughorn instructed before moving over to a group of Slytherin boys. 

“Anyways,” Remus said slowly and more quietly, “why do we care about who Regulus dates?”

“So Padfoot knows who’s off the market?” James suggested with a laugh.

“Because I think certain social dynamics are more interesting than this class,” Sirius corrected. 

“Maybe you care about your brother more than you let on,” Peter said, handing Remus their next ingredient. 

Sirius looked over at you, as you actively stirred your own potion and counted each stir out loud. Beatrice was prepping the final ingredient for the potion. They were further along than Remus was. He looked over at Snape’s table and then at Lily’s. Those two groups were adding the final ingredients so you weren't too far ahead.

“Prongs, where we at?”

“I need essence of daisyroot next,” he answered.

“Ah, helping Prongs now. He definitely cares about his baby brother,” Peter cooed. 

Handing James the root, Sirius said, “Maybe I care about him. Maybe I want to be able to say I helped Prongs with this potion when Slughorn comes back and questions us.”

Remus laughed. “Nothing like a last minute effort!”

“It’s my cauldron we’re using!” Sirius defended. 

“Just keep helping so we actually finish this period,” James said, holding out his hand. “Next ingredient!”

Sirius grinded some pearls and passed him the bowl. Peter took a sample from his and Remus’s potion and brought it up to Slughorn’s desk as Remus cleared their potion. 

“Third done and first review was at least exceeding expectations!” Peter gloated as he returned to the table. 

“Snape and Evans?” Remus asked, putting his set away.

“Who else?”

“Almost done,” James muttered as Sirius prepared their vial for the sample. 

James held out his hand for Sirius to hand it to him. Sirius took the vial up to the desk.

“Please tell me you did more than offer to bring the sample up,” Slughorn said, taking the vial from Sirius. 

“I did, sir. You can ask Potter to verify.”

Slughorn looked over at James, who gave him a thumbs up.

“Very well. I suppose that’ll do. Thank you, Black.”

“Here you go, Professor,” you said, causing Sirius to look over at the other end of the desk. 

You held out your vial for Slughorn to take. 

“Beatrice did help me. She’s cleaning up the cauldron.”

“Yes, I did see her helping. Thank you for confirming.”

You smiled and returned to your desk. 

“Did you need something more, Mr. Black?” Slughorn asked, looking at him over his glasses. 

“Oh, ah, no. Sorry,” he said quickly.

He sat down next to James, who was visibly trying not to laugh.

“Checking out if she’s good enough?” Remus asked, laughing.

“Not sure what you mean, Moony.”

“Padfoot,” Peter started to say.

“Nope. Not taking it today.”

All three boys laughed, causing looks from other tables, including yours. 

“Boys! Settle down while your classmates are finishing their assignments!” Slughorn hollered from his desk.

“Sorry, Professor!” Remus called, trying to stifle his laughter. 

“Idiots. My best friends are idiots,” Sirius muttered.

“Ah, but you love us!” James said, leaning over and putting an arm around Sirius. 

“Sadly, I do.”

---

For the first few weeks of school, you wore the stolen necklace under your shirt, keeping it safely hidden out of sight. Every once in a while, it would slip out, only for you to notice and tuck it back in. Regulus caught you doing it a few times. He didn’t get why you would wear such a pretty necklace just to hide it away. 

“You know, it’s not polite to stare at a lady’s chest,” Barty said.

“I’m not staring at anyone’s chest,” Regulus said coolly.

Barty leaned forward, using his middle and index finger to point at Regulus’ eyes and then your direction. 

“Huh. Your words say one thing but your eyes say another.”

Regulus glared at Barty. “Not staring at her chest, Junior. I’m looking at her necklace.”

Barty looked in your direction and scrunched his face.

“Don’t see no necklace.”

“She’s tucked it under her shirt,” Regulus sighed with a roll of his eyes. 

“Where her chest is. Got it.”

“I wasn’t staring at her chest!” he hissed angrily. “Now shut it before someone hears you.”

“Ah, but you’re a teenage boy! You’re expected to stare.”

“I thought it wasn’t polite.”

“It’s not, but when are we polite?” A crooked grin was plastered across Barty’s face. 

Regulus gave his shoulder a shove. “Fuck off.”

“Why’s Junior fucking off?” Evan asked, sitting down next to Barty and draping his arm around his shoulder. 

“I’m being sent to the time out corner because I caught Black being a pervert,” Barty pouted. 

Evan laughed. “Black being a perv? This is new.”

“Not a pervert,” Regulus affirmed. “Junior’s imagining things.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Evan mused before turning his gaze toward his boyfriend. “What’d you see this time?”

“Black was staring at Y/N’s chest.”

Evan raised his eyebrows and blinked slowly as he looked back to Regulus. 

“Pretty boy has a crush, doesn’t he?”

“Pretty boy?” Regulus and Barty asked simultaneously. 

“He’s pretty, you can’t deny that,” Evan said, seemingly answering only Barty. “Plus,” he continued with a finger on Barty’s chest, “you’re hot. That’s better than pretty.”

“If you’re going to be gross, at least go back to a dorm or something. Not everyone wants to see that,” Regulus groaned. 

“Can’t,” Evan said shortly. “Wilkes and Avery are studying in mine.”

“Ours not open?” Regulus asked Barty. 

“Stubby’s in there with some girl.”

Regulus groaned again. 

“Anywho, you didn’t say no to having a crush,” Barty said. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“And if you’re ogling her in public… Tsk, tsk Black. You’re down bad,” Evan teased. 

“Not ogling her!”

“Sure you’re not.”

Regulus groaned even louder, earning a glance from you. It was only momentary when he saw who he was with. You knew that when Barty and Evan were together, they could be irritating. Something about their combined attitudes seemed to press the buttons of everyone. 

“Dora,” you sang, “sounds like your brother is being a bother to Black.”

Pandora sent a lazy glance toward the table where the three boys were sitting.

“Hmm, not my problem right now. Junior’s got ‘im.”

Dorcas laughed. “Like he’s any help!”

“Oh, he for sure makes it worse. That’s why it’s not my problem.”

“Should someone put Black out of his misery though?” you asked.

“If you want to, be my guest,” Pandora said. “I’m not going over there.”

---

Squelch, squelch, squelch, thhhhhhhhhh-POP

You placed your hand on Beatrice’s wrist firmly.

Not looking up from your book, you said, “Either spit out your gum or leave the library, Bea.”

You didn’t need to be looking at her to see her roll eyes, but she got up anyway and threw her things into her bag. 

“Guess I’ll see you in the common room, then.”

You were almost happy to be by yourself at the table. You could work in peace now. Your dream scenario was short lived though. You couldn’t hold in your groan when Beatrice’s chair was pulled back with a scrape.

“Oh, sorry, I can work somewhere else,” Regulus said, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck.

Your head snapped up and you gave him a sympathetic smile. 

“No! You can work here!” you said quickly. “I thought you were going to be Cora or Avery or someone… Please, you can sit there.”

“You sure?” he asked hesitantly despite putting his bag on the table already.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Your voice is more firm now. “You’re actually going to work.”

Regulus gave you a smile before fully taking the seat. For a while, the two of you worked in silence, as you thought it should be. That’s why you went to the library afterall. It was a place you count on to be quiet and it got on your nerves when people disrespected that. Beatrice had been mostly quiet but her gum chewing was amplified in the library’s peaceful atmosphere. 

“Hey, Y/N, I, uh, got a question for you,” Regulus said.

You put down your quill and look at what he’s working on. You assumed it was a homework question.

“I don’t think I’ll be much help. Don’t take Arithmancy.”

“It’s not about this. I was wondering if you’d like to go to the Quidditch game with me.”

You know exactly what he’s asking, but you decided to tease him a little bit.

“We go to every game together?” you asked, tilting your head. “Well, except for the ones you’re playing in.”

He rubs his forehead nervously.

“I mean, like, with me, with me.”

“Oh, you mean like a date?” You can’t hide your wicked grin.

He nods. He doesn’t say anything, waiting for you to give him an actual answer. 

“Yes, Regulus, I’d like that. Meet you at breakfast on Saturday?”

“Yeah, yeah. That’d be great!”

He was beaming at this point and you gave his shoulder a light shove. 

---

You were already in the Great Hall when Regulus made his way to the Slytherin table on Saturday. He wasn’t surprised to see you chatting away with Cora, Pandora and Beatrice. Dorcas was at the Gryffindor table with her girlfriend Marlene. He took a seat next to Pandora so he was diagonal from you. You immediately gave him a warm smile. If your friends know anything about the date or notice the nerves that Regulus is sure he’s exuding, they don’t say anything. Regulus hadn’t told anyone about asking you out. He preferred to be a private person. You knew that about him, which is part of why you didn’t tell anyone either. You were also preparing for the worst: if the date went bad, you could pretend it just never happened and your friends wouldn’t know any better.

“Y/N? You coming?” Pandora asked, standing up with the rest of the girls when they were ready to head to the pitch.

“I’m heading in with Reg. We’ll see you there.”

Pandora nodded and followed the girls out. Now that they were gone, Regulus scooted over a spot so he was directly across from you. 

“I’m almost ready,” he said before taking a sip of his tea.

“If you don’t want to wait for Black, we’re going to head out too,” Avery said.

“Did you not just hear me tell Dora that I’m going in with Regulus?” you snapped.

“No need to get snippy with me,” he replied with a snarl on his face.

You gave him a disgruntled face in return before turning back to Regulus. 

“We aren’t leaving until you’re done eating,” you assured him.

You really didn’t need to though. Almost as soon as the boys had reached the end of the table, Regulus had finished eating. You sat in silence at the table a little bit longer, watching the boys disappear from sight before getting up. It was like you both understood that you wanted to put a little bit of distance between you and the group. 

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.”

The Quidditch match itself didn’t feel like a date to you. You always stood next to Regulus. The main difference was that when you braced your arms against the railing, rather than just having his arm right up next to yours, he had his over yours. You didn’t mind it. It was nice to have a barrier from the wind on the one side. And, just like he always did, Regulus explained various fouls and plays. You never told him that you didn’t need him to despite knowing the game like the back of your hand. He didn’t know your mum was an avid fan and taught you everything she knows. 

You and Regulus were slow to leave the stands when the game ended. Your friend group didn’t notice you falling behind as they made their way back into the castle. 

“What do you say to continuing this date with an adventure?” you asked. 

“What do you have in mind?” Regulus replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Follow me.”

You led him to the grounds’ perimeter wall’s access staircase. 

“Does this count as an adventure?” he questioned as you climbed the stone stairs. “I think only first years really walk this stretch.”

“Because first years don’t know how to get through locked doors,” you told him. “Alohomora.” 

The door clicked open and you entered, closely followed by Regulus. The circular room was mostly filled with crates and boxes. You deemed it not too exciting and went to the door that led to the next stretch of wall. This door was already unlocked. Regulus just followed you wordlessly through a few stretches of the wall. He was partially taking in the different views, never having been to these portions of the wall, but he was almost semi-amazed that you would just unlock doors to explore the grounds. 

“Well, damn,” you said softly inside another one of the circular rooms when the next door didn’t unlock with the spell. 

“Anti-Alohomora jinx?” Regulus asked, moving closer to you.

“Appears so. Guess we’ll go about it the muggle way.”

Regulus didn’t know what you meant so he just watched in confusion as you grabbed two small metal rods from the floor. You stuck them into the lock and started clanking around. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Picking the lock?” you said like it was obvious.

“Picking the lock?” he repeated.

“How muggles get through locked doors without a key. You know, since they don’t have magic,” you explained, still working on the lock.

“Huh.”

“It’s pretty handy to know muggle stuff, you know. Never know when it’ll come in handy… Got it!”

You let the metal rods fall to the floor as you opened the door. Regulus smiled and followed you. 

“Oh, this was worth it!” you said, looking over the edge. 

The stretch of wall overlooked part of the Black Lake. Regulus had to admit that it was a breathtaking view. He joined you leaning against the stone.

“So did you know the view was amazing before dragging me here?” 

“I assumed. Been meaning to get through those doors for a while. You just gave me an excuse.”

“I gave you an excuse?”

“Yes, Black, keep up. Our date. Couldn’t let it end with Gryffindor winning the match.”

Regulus smiled. Some part of you must like him enough to not only prolong the date, but continue to call it a date rather than just an adventure or something. You also chose to explore this part of the perimeter wall with him when you could have ditched him and gone up here by yourself. Regulus knew he must be staring at you, but you were looking at the lake so maybe you didn’t notice. Or you didn’t care. Either way, he had to fight the urge to take your face in his hand and kiss you. He wanted to. You were beautiful and perfect and you were here with him alone. But he knew it was too soon. It would be too bold of him. He didn’t have that kind of courage. Maybe if he got a second date with you. Maybe then he’d be able to kiss you.

tags: @nsr-15, @kabekusa

[silverameco]

Secret Relationship - @wolfstarmicrofic - 746 words

What Sirius didn't forseen, is that a secret relationship implied a secret break-up. Hidden love meant hidden sadness when it was all over. To be completely honest, he never thought it would end at all. He should have known, though, that he would find a way to ruin everything.

It had been a week. A week since Remus said I can't keep doing this. I don't want to be your secret anymore. A week since Sirius was stuck with the secret tears he shed every night, and the awful knowledge than the boy he loved was so close all the time - across the bedroom, the classroom or the dinner table - and yet so far away.

He didn't know what to do. They were so good together. Like friends, but better. All those secret meetings, passionate kisses behind closed doors and heated moments in the intimacy of silencing spells, all of it made Sirius feel more alive than ever. And now it was all over, because of him.

Nobody knew about them. Because he was so scared. Of the world, of himself. So scared he couldn't let himself take Remus' hand in an empty corridor, he couldn't show all the love he felt, couldn't tell the world about how amazing Remus was. But he wanted to. He really wanted to. He didn't even realize Remus drifted away from him, until it was too late. And now he didn't know what to do to fix it. He couldn't tell anyone about it, because nobody knew about them. Because it was like it never existed at all, even though it felt like the only real thing Sirius ever lived.

Well, it was without one James Potter to count on. He was cornered in the dorm one evening, before they went down to dinner. Sirius was sitting on his bed, James joined him and began talking before he could think about fleeing.

"Oi you wanker, what's up with you and Moony ?"

"Um, nothing ?" he felt himself flush with the blatant lie.

"Sirius. You've both been looking like miserable sods for days, and you're barely talking to each other."

Sirius didn't answer, and kept his eyes fixated on his hands, playing with a loose thread from his bedsheets. He didn't know what to say that wasn't a lie. It didn't deter James.

"You've both been so happy these past months. I thought-"

At that, Sirius raised his head to look at James, eyes wide and beseeching. Maybe he wanted someone to know, after all. "You thought ?"

"Well, that you were together."

He said it with a soft voice and a kind smile. Like maybe, it was all okay. Except it wasn't, because they weren't together anymore. He felt the tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh, Pads. What happened ?"

Next thing he knew, he was pulled into a hug, and Sirius was sobbing into James' chest.

"I- I ruined everything. Because I w-was so- so scared. And now he d-doesn't want me any- anymore."

"Padfoot, listen to me. I don't know what happened exactly, but I know that Remus has been looking at you like a lovesick idiot for years. You can't ruin that. I'm sure it's fixable, okay ?"

Before Sirius could answer, the door opened on no other than Remus himself. Sirius straightened himself, hastily wiping his tears.

"Er- sorry, I-"

But then their eyes met, and it was like Remus didn't know what he was going to say anymore. He seemed lost, looking at Sirius' teary face like it was hurting him. Sirius noticed that the circles under his eyes were darker than usual. He wanted to erase them. Before he could think about what he was doing, he got up and stepped in front of Remus.

"Moony." he said in a small, tentative voice, that he barely recognized as his own.

"Yeah ?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I love you. I want to be with you. I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell everyone yet, but I don't want us to be a secret either. So, if by any chance, you still want me-"

And then, Remus' lips were on his, just like that. Like they've never been apart in the first place, because they shouldn't be. James was cheering obnoxiously behind them and it felt right, because they were too good together, loved each other too much to be a secret.

[spacegoblin2106]

Ok, so Remus has had a crush on Sirius for a short while now but he knows that Sirius could never want him in the same way so he does a pretty good job of hiding it. But then one full moon Moony starts to act strangely towards Padfoot.

Moony doesn’t leave Padfoots side the entire night. Nibbling his ear, rubbing up against his side, rolling around on his back right in front of him, even building a den and insisting that Padfoot sleep in it.

And the next morning, when the others tell him about this, Remus turns bright red and can’t seem to speak without stammering. So Sirius does some investigating.

There’s not much in the library on werewolf behaviour besides the usual prejudiced stuff so Sirius looks to the behaviour of wolves and comes across mating rituals, which seem to line up pretty perfectly with how the wolf was acting the night before. Moony was performing mating rituals for him?

Remus had told Sirius before that while he looses his sense of self during the full moon, his wolf from still retains his core feelings and desires. Could that mean that Remus fancied him? Wanted to be with him?

Sirius doesn’t even bother putting the books away. He practically runs to Griffindoor tower and slams the door to the dorm room open, waking a still groggy-from-the-night-before Remus. Sirius grabs him by the face and kisses him until they’re both breathless and starry eyed.

Anyway, I just really like the idea of Moony being a big softy, especially towards his Padfoot. I also think it’s hilarious that Remus “emotions are there to be repressed” Lupin having his feelings outed by his wolf form.

[ch0k3herwithaseaview]

@jegulus-microfic | april 12 Amortentia | words: 683

DARLING, GUESS WHO’S BACK FROM JAIL (not jail but a hospital, same thing really). I missed writing and maybe some of you missed me so here’s a cute one. enjoy;3

tw: alleged poisoning, swearing

"Have you seen that green shirt Regulus wore to the party last week? He looked so beautiful in it,” James mused, laying down on the floor next to Remus’ bed. “And his hair, oh Merlin, his hair...”

“What the fuck, Prongs?” Sirius snapped at him, sitting straight on Mooney’s bed. Oh, right, he forgot his best friend was in the room.

James looked at Remus, a bit terrified, hoping the tall boy would come up with something to save his ass. With the smirk Remus gave him, James knew he was doomed.

“Oh boy, are you okay, James?” The taller boy asked with feigned concern. “Pads, I think someone poisoned him.”

At the comment, Sirius’ face turned from pissed to concerned.

“What? With what?” he started, running to James to check on him.

Remus hummed, looking at the two of them with a mean grin.

“Some Slytherin must’ve added amortentia to his tea in revenge for the last prank,” he said, acting as if he were terrified. “We should take him to Slughorn; he probably has an antidotum.” With that, Sirius picked James up and led him out of their dormitory.

Padfoot looked determined to help him as they walked to the dungeons, while Remus kept sending him amused glances. In response, James just farrowed his eyebrows, mouthing  you’re dead to his friend.

When they finally reached the potions professor’s room, Sirius started banging on them like a madman. Not even ten seconds into it, the door opened.

“What are you doing here?” Regulus asked, looking at all three of them. James could see his eyes softening as they reached his own, and he smiled gently at Regulus, the younger boy's cheeks turning slightly pink.

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, reminding James of his presence.

“Well, I’m brewing a potion,” Regulus started. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”

Sirius frowned at his brother, and he pointed at James. “Can you see him? He’s looking at you like you’re the world’s eighth wonder; somebody poisoned him with amortentia!”

Regulus and James locked eyes again, the younger boy smirking this time.

"Oh, really?” he started, still looking at James. “What gave you the idea?”

“Well,” Sirius began, “he started rumbling about how pretty you looked last week, and how he likes your hair, and other shit like that!” That was just Sirius being dramatic, but Regulus seemed more pleased with every word. “Is Slughorn here? We need to fix him right now!”

Regulus shook his head, turning to face his brother. “He went to Madam Pomfrey; he should be back soon," he said with a pause. “But maybe you should go back to the dorm; it's almost curfew. I’ll take care of that moron.”

James looked at Remus with pleading eyes, hoping this time his friend would actually help him. Thankfully, Moony seemed like he had enough of torturing him for one evening.

He grabbed Sirius’ shoulder, turning him so they stood face-to-face. “He’ll be fine, honey,” Remus said gently, leaning closer to Sirius’ ear. As the black-haired boy’s eyes widened, James assumed the two of them would be taking advantage of the free dormitory. Good for them, James thought. Just don’t destroy the room. Again.

“If he starts being insufferable, give him a sleeping drought or bind him; I don’t care. Just... be safe,” Sirius said to his brother, getting a dismissive yeah, yeah in response.

As the two Gryffindors left them, Regulus pushed James into the room, slamming the door behind them.

“So, amortentia, huh?” Regulus asked with a teasing smile, putting his hands on James’ chest. The older boy grabbed him by the waist, pulling him closer.

“Yeah,” he began, rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ sides. “I think Barty wanted to get back at me for turning custard creams into Canary Creams.”

“Perhaps yes,” Regulus said, nuzzling at James’ jaw. “And you think I’m pretty? Evan must’ve helped him with the potion if you talked so nicely about me,” James chuckled as the younger boy grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down for a kiss. 

[ms-snape]

The Snake And The Lion (young!sirius black x slytherin!reader)

Request: This was requested by a dear friend of mine, I honestly loved the idea and couldn't refuse it to her. Request are OPENED

Summary: A slytherin girl has stolen sirius' heart

Warning: none exept a bit of James hating on slytherins

Word count: 1310

Masterlist

---

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students milled about, laughter echoing against the ancient stone walls. Sirius Black, leaning against a weathered pillar, watched the crowd with a mix of admiration and anxiety. His heart raced as his gaze settled on Y/N, a Slytherin girl with a cascade of dark hair that caught the golden light. She was laughing with her friends, her smile radiant enough to brighten even the gloomiest of dungeons.

“Pads, you’re drooling,” came a teasing voice from beside him. Remus Lupin, with his sandy hair and thoughtful eyes, nudged Sirius with his elbow.

“Shut up, Moony,” Sirius replied, trying to appear nonchalant. “I’m just… observing.”

“Observing? More like staring. You might as well be a lovesick puppy,” Remus chuckled, leaning back against the wall next to him.

“Maybe I am,” Sirius muttered, his eyes still fixed on Y/N. She tossed her head back in laughter, and Sirius felt a pang of longing. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it terrified him.

“Honestly, mate, you need to tell her. It’s getting ridiculous,” Remus said, a hint of seriousness creeping into his tone.

Sirius shook his head, a frown creasing his brow. “And risk James going off on her? No way. You know how he is with Slytherins.”

“Yeah, but…” Remus began, but Sirius cut him off.

“Besides, it’s not like she’d even be interested in a Gryffindor like me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he dragged a hand through his dark hair.

Just then, James Potter, known to his friends as Prongs, bounded over, his confidence radiating like sunlight. “Hey, lads! What’s up?” He grinned, his trademark mischief glinting in his eyes.

“Nothing much, just discussing… Potions,” Remus said, shooting a warning glance at Sirius.

“Potions? Pfft. That’s boring. I’ve got a better idea. Let’s go prank Filch!” James suggested, his enthusiasm infectious.

“Not today, Prongs. I’ve got a lot on my mind,” Sirius replied, his voice barely above a murmur.

James raised an eyebrow. “What’s bothering you? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but his attention was suddenly drawn back to Y/N, who had stood up and was now walking toward the castle. But just as she passed by, a group of Gryffindors, led by James, made a snide comment that echoed across the courtyard.

“Look at that snake slithering away,” James sneered, laughter bubbling up from his friends.

Sirius’s heart plummeted. “James, stop!” he shouted, stepping forward before he could think better of it.

“What? It’s just a joke,” James said, shrugging it off.

“Yeah, but it’s not funny!” Sirius snapped, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “She’s not a snake. Her name is Y/N. And she doesn’t deserve that.”

James blinked in surprise, the laughter fading from his expression. “Whoa, Padfoot, I didn’t know you cared that much.”

“I do care,” Sirius replied, his voice lower now, almost vulnerable. “I… I like her, alright?”

The courtyard fell silent, the weight of Sirius’s confession hanging in the air. Remus’s eyes widened, and even Peter, who had been lurking nearby, looked up in surprise.

“Wait, what?” James exclaimed, his tone shifting from confusion to genuine surprise. “You like a Slytherin? Are you serious?”

“Very,” Sirius said, crossing his arms defensively. “And you know how you are with them. It’s why I haven’t said anything. You’d just make fun of her.”

James opened his mouth, then closed it, processing the information. “You’re right; I’ve been a massive git. I didn’t realize you felt this way,” he admitted, his tone softening.

“Yeah, well, it’s not exactly easy to admit,” Sirius muttered, staring at the ground.

“I’m sorry, mate. I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… I guess I’ve been conditioned to think all Slytherins are the enemy,” James said, a hint of regret in his voice. “But if you really like her, you should tell her. She might surprise you.”

“Tell her? You think I should just walk up to her and say, ‘Hey, I like you, let’s ignore the fact that your house is my house’s biggest rival’?” Sirius scoffed, shaking his head.

“I do,” Remus chimed in, his expression earnest. “You won’t know unless you try. And I can’t imagine how much better you’d feel if you just got it off your chest.”

Sirius sighed, glancing back in Y/N’s direction. She was chatting with a fellow Slytherin, her laughter ringing like music in the air. “What if she says no?”

“Then you move on,” James replied bluntly. “But you’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t try.”

Sirius felt a spark of determination ignite within him. “You’re right. I can’t keep hiding. I’ll talk to her.”

“Good. And I’ll maybe apologize to her, too,” James offered, a newfound sincerity in his voice.

“Thanks, Prongs. I appreciate it,” Sirius said, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders.

With a deep breath, Sirius pushed away from the pillar and started toward the castle, his heart pounding with every step. As he approached Y/N, he could hear the soft hum of her voice, a melody that pulled him closer.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice breaking through the chatter.

She turned, her eyes brightening when they met his. “Black! What’s up?Wanna start laughting at me like your dear friend”

"N…no, I would never laught at you"He replies sincerly,he felt the warmth of her gaze wash over him, and suddenly, all his nerves faded into the background. “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Sure,” she said, tilting her head curiously, her smile never fading.

They stepped away from the crowd, and Sirius leaned against the cool stone wall of the castle, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “So, um… I wanted to say something.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her expression encouraging. “Go on.”

“I… I like you, Y/N,” he blurted, feeling the words tumble out. “Like, really like you. I know we’re from different houses and all, but I can’t help it.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, a smile broke across her face, lighting up her features. “Really? I didn’t know you felt that way. I thought you didn’t like Slytherins.”

“I thought that, too,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s different with you. I see you, Y/N. You’re not what everyone says about your house. You’re… diifenrent, you're amazing.”

Y/N stepped closer, her expression softening. “You’re not so bad yourself, Black. I’ve noticed you, too. You’re kind of a legend.”

His heart soared at her words. “I wish I could say I was as brave as you. I’ve seen you stand up to your own house when they’re mean to others. It’s impressive.”

“Thanks,” she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. “So, what now?”

Sirius took a breath, his heart racing. “I guess… I’d like to try this. Us. If you’re interested.”

Her smile widened, and she stepped even closer, their proximity sending a thrill through him. “I’d like that. I’ve always thought there was something special about you, Sirius.”

Without thinking, he leaned in, their lips connecting in a gentle kiss that sent sparks coursing through his veins. It was electric, a moment suspended in time, and when they pulled apart, Y/N’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Wow,” she said, a teasing smile on her lips. “Not bad for a Gryffindor.”

Sirius chuckled, feeling lighter than air. “Not bad for a Slytherin, either.”

As they stood there, the rest of the world faded away. The courtyard, the whispers of the students, the rivalries—it all became background noise to the connection they had just forged. Sirius knew that the road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but in that moment, he felt ready to face anything for Y/N.

[marigold-hills]

June 8: bubbles | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 500

PREVIOUS PART • NEXT PART • FIRST PART

cw: use of drugs (magical equivalent of weed)

James and Sirius are laying about James’ bed, hands and legs in disarray, giggling. Above them float iridescent bubbles, the light of the dying day refracting through and emitting distorted rainbows onto the walls.

Each time a bubble bursts it fills the room with sweet-smelling smoke, and the two get another hit and fall into another bout of laughter.

“Pads, Padfoot, Paddy-Pie. You don’t get it. Those eyes,” James sighs so wistfully Sirius worries he’ll inhale too much and float away. It’s a funny thought so Sirius laughs more.

“You’re a masochist, Jamesy-lamb. What were you told? Keep out of my eyesight or I’ll rip out your kidneys?”

“So sweet,” James almost moans through another giggle. “So lovely. I hope you’ll get this one day, Pads. It feels… well it feels a bit like this, actually,” he waves a vague hand around the scented air of the room, “only even better.”

“No thanks, I don’t fancy an impromptu nephrectomy.”

“Nah. That’s not for you. You need someone nice, who’ll take care of you.”

Sirius wraps a hand around the gilded oyster around his neck and thinks of the colour of the eye within it. Thinks of a hand underneath his shirt.

Weird thought, he decides.

“Moony still at the library?”

“That funny swot. He needs more sleep, he does, have you seen the bags under his eyes?”

“Thanks, Prongs,” comes the Moony voice, one of a kind, from behind them, full of laughter. “You truly know how to compliment a guy.”

“Moons!” Sirius rolls forward, an excited dog greeting its favourite person. “My moonage daydream, I have stollen chocolate cake for you from dinner.”

Remus puts a hand on Sirius’ hair, sits on the bed by him. “You have? Always so thoughtful for me.”

“Thoughtful, my arse,” James interjects the moment, “if he were thoughtful, he’d have stolen you actual dinner. Moony, you look about five minutes away from keeling over.”

The hand petting through Sirius’ hair takes out some of the sting from the words, but James is right, isn’t he?

“And you two are high as hippogryphs the night before an exam. That horse isn’t looking very tall, Prongs.”

Remus looks down at where Sirius worked his head into his lap (when did that happen?), eyes soft and lovely. He looks so pretty like this, even with the dark circles under his eyes.

“May I have my cake, mo réalta?”

Sirius tries to stand up to get it, but the hand in his hair keeps him from moving.

“Don’t. Just tell me where it is, please.”

Remus gets his cake and sits back down on the bed, with a gentle hand manoeuvres Sirius’ head back onto his thigh. Rips off a piece of cake with his fingers and feeds it to Sirius. Another bubble bursts somewhere above them, the air becoming almond-sweet.

Suddenly, Sirius is hungry. “This is the best cake I’ve ever tasted.”

James, uncharacteristically quiet, bursts out in almost manic laughter. “That’s the bubbles talking, Padfoot.”

NOTES:

part 8! Of 30 :)

Early morning chapter courtesy of my lack of sleep :)

I kept thinking of bubbles left over in a shower or a bath when deciding what to write for this, but figured that’s too early in the story yet :)

hope everyone has an excellent weekend ❤️

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll @hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi

(let me know if you do/don’t want to be tagged in next parts)

[losver07]

part 2 to this

drama, kinda(?) harsh vocab, a bit of angst and mentions of su!c!de but not in a serious (lol sirius) way, mainly just drama

Smells Like Warm

“Moony, have a minute?”

Oh God, Remus thinks, sucking in a deep breath as he puts on the biggest, fakest smile that's ever touched his face. This is the end.

“Sure.”

“In potions class,” Sirius begins, choosing every word with great caution, “you said something.”

“Yes,” Remus answers. It's too late to lie. And, even if he could lie, why would he? They've been together for over a year now, it's not his fault that he's got feelings, that's just what being human means. Right?

“You... understand what it means, right? I mean—

“Yes,” he cuts him off. “James told me. I know.”

He needs to control the conversation, or else the conversation will control him and lead him out of a window, down to the quidditch pitch face first.

“OK. So, is it... Did it really smell like me?”

Maybe the window option is not that bad. He'll keep it in the back of his mind, just in case. An easy escape route.

“Look, I know your narcissistic ass would love to know more, but I'm not in the mood for talking, I'm sorry.”

That seems to hurt Sirius. Good.

“No, okay, it's fine, I didn't mean to...”

“I'll shut up about it next time,” he promises, lifting his chin, using what's left of his dignity. “I know you don't want people to know.”

He wants him to feel ashamed, guilty, responsible for his own pain. After all, it's Sirius' fault he fell in love with him. He wouldn't have, if only he were less... him.

“It's fine, really, I don't care, I just—

“I'm going to the library,” Remus says, and starts walking without expecting a response. If he gets one, anyway, it'll be nothing more than stuttering and fake apologies. So he clutches the strap of his book bag and carries on along the empty hallway, his steps the only audible things that follow him. That, and:

“Mine smelled like you too.”

He stops in his tracks, nearly falling to the ground, chest suddenly heavy with something he should be able to name.

He looks back. His lungs feel like they're going to collapse, which makes him want a fag so fucking bad he almost forgets about the love confession he just got.

“What?”

No, he's still getting it. He still has to deal with it. With Sirius being honest. Telling the truth. Talking about his feelings.

It's shocking enough that he's got feelings, and now he's... What is he doing, really?

“The amortentia,” he says, more slowly now that he knows he's got Remus' attention. “It smelled like you.”

And then it hits him.

“It's not funny, Black.”

He looks around hoping for James to appear out of somewhere, hiding under the cloak until this very moment, giggling at his stupid oversensitive queer ass. Another one of their pranks, this time with Remus as the target.

But nothing happens. He only hears two sets of breaths, two heartbeats. And they both seem to be running a fucking marathon.

“I don't want it to be,” Sirius says, steadily. Well, as steady as one can be when he feels about to throw up.

“How'd you know it's me?” Remus still doesn't buy it. It can't be. Love is hard, it's tough, and Sirius has always been so cool about every-fucking-thing, so free and so easy. It just can't be. “I know your scent, but you...— You can't know what I smell like. You can't know.”

“It's not like a need a bloody potion to tell me, Moony, I'm a bit more self-aware than that,” he says, half-grinning, half-dying inside. “And, also, I do know what you smell like. It's like... Well, like the forest. Like trees and the earth and rain... and chocolate, somehow. It just smells like warm. Like that red jumper of yours.”

Remus takes a breath.

“Padfoot,” he says. He doesn't know what else to say. “That's...”

“I know, I know,” the Black haired boy braces himself, suddenly feeling as vulnerable as glass, his cheeks burning with the embarrassment of spilling his guts all over someone and not being able to take them back and shove them into his body, where they should have stayed in the first place. “Fucking corny.”

But it's Remus. Everything's different with Remus.

“It's beautiful,” he whispers, out of breath.

“Yeah,” Sirius smiles. “Yeah, it is.”

ummm here's part 3 lol

[fwrails]

james goes all out every christmas. he has a list that he’s been adding to since june for presents, and begs moony padfoot & wormtail to do a secret santa (even though the other three end up buying chocolate frogs for each other & james buys a one of a kind present way out of budget) he starts decorating the common room november 1st (much to everyone’s dismay) and forces the entire common room into santa hats. he hides multiple elf on the shelf’s around classrooms and offices just to make the younger years smile. christmas at the potters is warm: cookies laid out, effie & monty endlessly bickering, the marauders giggling next to the tree in their matching pajamas james insisted on buying. the weather outside may be frightful, but james’ warmth makes it delightful.

[moons-and-mobility-aids]

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four | Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven

Content Warnings: Adult content, mostly accurate depictions of being an onlyfans creator (hi, I am one and this chapter in particular is pretty damn accurate), reader is fem, uses a wheelchair, and has cerebral palsy. Taglist: @alohastitch0626, @jspidey5, @laceandsuch, @kneelforloki, @fionaapplelover2010, @nubigenouss

The change is subtle, a gradual shift you might not have noticed if it weren't for the way your heart lingers on every message, every interaction. Prongs's messages are less frequent now. He still comments on your posts and likes your photos, but the flirty banter that used to fill your inbox every day has slowed. You've grown accustomed to his daily presence—the little jokes that made you smile, the teasing exchanges that were the highlights of your day. But over the past week or so, something feels off.

It's not just the absence of Prongs' messages that tugs at your awareness. There's a sense of dissonance, too subtle to pinpoint at first but growing harder to ignore with each passing day. You know Moony and Padfoot are there, always watching, always supporting from the shadows—even if they don't interact directly, their presence is a constant, quiet hum in the background of your life. Through Prongs, you've come to know them all, forming a connection unlike any other, a camaraderie that transcends the superficial bonds often found on platforms like OnlyFans. But now, even their shared energy feels muted, distant, as though they're pulling away.

The realization sits heavily within you, an unwelcome guest that refuses to leave no matter how hard you try to ignore it. The discomfort gnaws at your insides, a persistent itch just out of reach, demanding your attention.

It isn't uncommon for subscribers to vanish, especially those who pay well, engage often, and seem genuinely invested. You've seen it happen countless times before. They immerse themselves in your content, loyally following for weeks or months, only to fade into the backdrop of anonymity from which they came. Sometimes the departure is gradual—a steady retreat marked by less frequent comments and dwindling tips—while other times, it's abrupt. There one day, gone the next.

You know better than to take it personally. It's the nature of the business, after all. People come and go, their interest waning as life pulls them in different directions. But knowing this doesn't make it sting any less, especially when you've begun to see these three not just as subscribers but as individuals with whom you've forged a connection. The sense of loss nags at you, the hollow feeling that accompanies their absence a reminder of the transient nature of online relationships.

You shake it off, pushing back against the wave of disappointment threatening to pull you under. This is part of the job, you remind yourself.

Today, you're going through your notifications, trying to focus on the fans who are still engaging with your content. There's an excitement in the air—your latest posts have sparked a flurry of activity and your recent video has been particularly well-received. As you scroll through, there are plenty of comments to respond to, tips to acknowledge.

But as you sift through the sea of notifications, you're looking for one name in particular: Prongs.

You tell yourself not to expect much. Maybe another like or a quick comment, less personal than before. But there's nothing, just silence. It's been a few days since you've heard from him directly, and while you keep telling yourself it doesn't matter, the knot in your stomach says otherwise.

You shake your head, pressing your fingers to your temples as if that could push the thought away. You can't afford to dwell on this—it's not like you've done anything wrong. Subscribers come and go. That's the reality of the internet. And you've been here before, haven't you? The last thing you need is to start overthinking things.

The day drags on, each moment filled with a strange tension that you can't quite shake. There's a heaviness in your stomach, a sense of anticipation that lingers even when you try to focus on other things. Something is happening, but what? You're not sure, and the uncertainty gnaws at you, leaving you restless.

As evening falls, you find yourself unable to sleep. The house is quiet, save for the occasional hum of passing cars outside, but it does nothing to ease the unease that has taken hold. Your phone buzzes, pulling you from your thoughts, and you reach for it instinctively, hoping for a distraction.

You expect another comment from one of your new followers—maybe someone curious about the latest video or asking for advice on their own projects. But as you unlock your phone and see the notification, your heart stutters. It's not a comment. It's a message. And the sender's name sends a chill down your spine: Prongs.

There's no burst of excitement this time, no thrill of recognition. Instead, there's a different feeling, something akin to relief but also tinged with a thread of caution. After days of silence, you hadn't known what to think. Now, here he is again, reaching out through the digital ether. But why?

Your thumb hovers over the screen, uncertainty flickering in your chest. Then you tap the notification, and the message unfolds before you.

ProngsPlayground_free: Hey, love. Been meaning to talk to you, but I don’t really know how to explain this. The guys and I have been acting kind of weird lately, huh?

You pause, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. This isn't the usual banter you're used to from him. There's a seriousness to his words that makes your stomach flip with unease. It's not like you hadn't noticed—they'd all been quieter, less engaged. But you hadn't expected him to bring it up. People usually just fade away without explanation when they lose interest in a game. The fact that he's mentioning it now, that he's acknowledging something is off, sends a jolt of surprise through you.

For a moment, you consider not responding. After all, you hadn’t asked for an explanation. But curiosity gnaws at you, and despite your best efforts to remain detached, you find yourself typing out a reply faster than you can second-guess yourself.

You: Yeah, I noticed things were a bit quiet. What’s going on? You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to, but... I’ve been wondering.

The message sent, you set your phone down on your lap and simply wait, watching the clock on the wall tick away the minutes. The silence feels heavy, like the calm before a storm, and you can't shake off the odd sensation of impending change. But what could it be? A goodbye? An apology?

Then, just as you're about to give up and push the thoughts away, your phone buzzes in your lap. The screen lights up with a notification from them. It's a long message, longer than any they've sent before.

ProngsPlayground_free: It’s just... complicated. I’m sorry if we’ve been distant. We’ve been trying to figure out how to handle something, and we didn’t want to make things weird for you. But I think we’ve just ended up making it weird anyway. 😅 The thing is, we saw you.

Your heart stutters as your eyes dart back to the message again, making sure you read it correctly. *They saw you*? What could he possibly mean by that? There's no way they could have seen you in person—or could they? Wouldn't you have noticed?

You: Saw me? What do you mean?

You tap send, your fingers suddenly unsteady. This is not what you expected. Your mind races, trying to make sense of his words. A heavy feeling tugs at your insides, but you don't know why. You haven't done anything wrong—have you?

The response comes quickly.

ProngsPlayground_free: About a week ago. At the café. We were having breakfast and saw you sitting there. You were reading a book and drinking coffee. You didn’t notice us, but... yeah, we saw you.

Your stomach drops. They saw you at the café? The one tucked away on that quiet side street where your mother used to take you after school? You try to recall the last time you were there—about a week ago, you realise. You'd been engrossed in a novel, sipping your coffee, oblivious to the world around you.

Of course, you wouldn't have known them if you had seen them. How could you? You don’t know their faces, their names, nothing beyond what they choose to share online. The realisation makes your breath catch in your throat.

Your heart thumps in your chest, a little faster, a little harder. You squint at the screen, rereading the words, but their meaning doesn't change. They saw you—in person—and they know more about you than you've ever shared.

Before you can stop yourself, your fingers are flying across the screen.

You: Wait, you saw me? Why didn’t you say anything?

The message sends, and you're left staring at the blinking cursor, waiting for a response. Your mind races—part outrage, part embarrassment, but mostly confusion. Why wouldn't they have said something? Why watch from afar?

And there's a pang of fear too, the kind that comes when privacy is violated. Your wheelchair, the quiet moments you claim as your own—all parts of a life you've kept separate, sacred. You never thought your subscribers would spill over into that world.

ProngsPlayground_free: We didn't want to scare you off. Honestly, we were at a loss ourselves. This distance... it's been a constant in our relationship. You've never seen our faces, and we know you only through the lens you choose to show us. Seeing you there was unexpected. We weren't sure how to react.

The words on the screen blur as you lean back, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. A part of you understands why they didn't say anything before. If the roles were reversed, you're not sure you would have known what to do either.

You've always maintained control over what parts of your life you let seep into this digital world. And now, they've seen something you've never shown them—not because of deceit but because of necessity. There's a wall between your private life and the one you share with these people who know you as you are. They've just caught a glimpse of the other side of that wall.

You return your gaze to the chat window, fingers hovering over the keys. Slowly, you begin to type, each word carefully chosen, a testament to the storm raging inside you.

You: That's... a lot to take in. I can understand why you didn't say anything. Still, it's surprising to hear. I've kept my personal life separate from all this—not because I don't trust you, but because some things are meant to stay private.

The message sends with a finality that leaves you feeling more exposed than you'd like. You've never shared this much with a subscriber before, never let them see the delicate dance between your reality and the persona they pay for. But this isn't about them overstepping—it's about the blurred lines, the encroaching of one world onto another in a way you hadn't anticipated.

A minute passes, then two. The silence stretches out before you until finally, Prongs replies.

ProngsPlayground_free: We understand. And we’re sorry. We didn’t mean to cross a line, and we don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. We’ve really enjoyed getting to know you, but we respect your boundaries. If you want us to back off, we’ll understand.

You read their message, a part of you bracing for the relief that should come with their offered distance. But instead of wanting to run, you find yourself drawn in by their sincerity. You have enjoyed getting to know them too, haven't you? And now, with everything out in the open, there's an odd sense of...relief? You blink, surprised at your own reaction.

You sit still for a moment, your eyes scanning Prongs's message again, the words echoing in your mind. They're giving you an out, a chance to put some space between you and them—and yet, you don't want to take it. Despite the strangeness of the situation, you don't feel threatened or upset. Rather, you feel seen, understood, albeit through a lens more intimate than you had ever anticipated.

You: I appreciate that, truly. And for what it's worth, I'm not angry or anything. Just... weird, I guess? I've worked hard to keep these lives separate, and to know you've seen me—seen parts of my life I don't usually share here—it feels like an intrusion, even if unintentionally so. It makes me vulnerable in a way I didn't expect.

You pause for a moment, wondering if you’re oversharing, but then you continue typing.

You: I’m not mad at you for not saying anything, though. I get it. It would’ve been weird for all of us, I guess. But... I hope seeing me like that didn’t change the way you see me online?

The message sends, and you stare at the screen, your heart pounding. There's a vulnerability to this, an exposure you hadn't anticipated when you logged on today. They've seen you outside the curated space of your streams, unfiltered and unaware. It wasn't a side of yourself you ever intended to reveal to them, and now that they've glimpsed it, you can't help but wonder if their image of you has shifted.

The response comes quicker than you expect, and relief washes over you as you realise Prongs hasn't left you hanging.

ProngsPlayground_free: It didn’t change anything. If anything, it made us respect you even more. We’ve always known there’s more to you than what we see online, but seeing you just living your life, being real... it was kind of a reminder that you’re a whole person outside of this.

You exhale, letting the tightness in your chest unwind with the breath. The tension in your shoulders lessens, if only slightly. These words, they offer a comfort you hadn't expected, a reminder that these people aren't just fans or voyeurs seeking to consume one version of you. They see you—really see you—as a person, not just a performer. And somehow, that recognition feels more vital than you ever could have imagined

How to respond is a puzzle you're not sure you can solve just yet. As if sensing your hesitation, the app buzzes again, Prongs' next message appearing on the screen. It's longer this time, more thoughtful.

ProngsPlayground_free: We've been talking among the three of us, and we felt a bit guilty about seeing you without you knowing. It made us realize that we've built a connection with you, but it's always been on your terms, and we respect that. We didn't want to overstep, but seeing you made us realize there's a lot we don't know about you. And that's okay. We're not entitled to know everything. But we want you to know we're here for whatever you're comfortable sharing—whether that's more or if you want to keep things as they are.

You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, your eyes scanning the words again and again. There's relief in them, an acknowledgement of the space that exists between creator and fan. There's also something else, something deeper that tugs at corners of your mind—an understanding that feels too personal coming from strangers.

It's unusual, this sense of respect from subscribers who could so easily demand more. But then again, these three have never been ordinary.

Your fingers hover above the keyboard, the tension in your shoulders easing. For the first time since this conversation started, you feel some semblance of control returning.

You: I appreciate that. More than you know. It's strange to think I've let people into my life without even realizing it, but I'm glad it's been you three. You've always been respectful, and that's why I felt comfortable sharing so much with you. You're not just subscribers to me—you feel like friends, even though we've never met.

The message sends, and you sit back, surprised by your own candour yet oddly reassured by it. Over the past few weeks, your interactions with Prongs—and through him, Moony and Padfoot—have stood out from the rest. They've never pushed for more than you were willing to give, and now, in the most unexpected of ways, it seems they've given you something invaluable in return: understanding.

ProngsPlayground_free: We feel the same way, honestly. It’s strange to say because we know it’s different on our end, but we’ve enjoyed getting to know you too. We want you to know that we’re completely okay with keeping things at whatever level you’re comfortable with. Our intention has never been to make you feel awkward or uncomfortable.

The corners of your mouth twitch upward as you read their message, a small smile breaking through the layers of uncertainty. Their words are a balm, soothing the raw edges of your apprehension. They don't demand more; they accept what you offer, and that acceptance grants you a sense of control—an essential element for your peace of mind.

For a moment, you consider letting the conversation rest there, but then another thought crosses your mind.

You: Okay, I have to ask—what did you think when you saw me? Like, was it weird seeing me just sitting there, reading? Did I look... different?

The query feels intimate, almost too much so. But now that they know who you are, it somehow feels okay to ask. To want to understand what it was like for them, seeing a slice of your life you've never shared before.

Prongs' response comes almost immediately, as if he'd been anticipating the question.

ProngsPlayground_free: You didn’t look different at all. Well, maybe a little, but only because we’re so used to seeing you in a different context. Seeing you in real life was... grounding, I guess? You looked like yourself, but not the version we see online. You were just... you. And that was kind of amazing.

The message sits there on your screen, the words blurring slightly as you blink back unexpected emotion. You touch a hand to your throat, feeling the knot there loosen. It's not the answer you expected, but it's the one you needed without realising it. All this time you've been crafting an image, a persona confident and unshakeable. To know they saw you in a moment of quiet, of vulnerability, and recognised you—the real you—without judgment or expectation, is a balm you didn't know you craved.

You straighten up, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you prepare to respond, your heart lighter than it has been in a long while.

You: Thank you for saying that. I think I needed to hear it. I guess I've always worried about what people would think if they saw the real me. It's a relief knowing that wasn't the case with you guys.

There's a finality to your words as you send them off into the digital ether—a sense of closure you didn't anticipate but welcome nonetheless. What seemed tangled and murky just moments ago now holds a clarity that settles over your thoughts, like the calm after a storm. Your connection with Prongs and his friends feels stronger, not despite the revelations, but because of them. They're no longer just fans—they're people who see you, respect you, and understand your boundaries.

A reply pops up on your screen, and Prongs's words bring a small smile to your face.

ProngsPlayground_free: Always, love. 😊

You set your phone aside, letting the soft light from its screen fade into the darkness of your room. A deep breath fills your lungs, a sense of relief washing over you as you exhale slowly, tension uncoiling from your shoulders. The week's stress seems to lift, leaving behind a calm that has been elusive for days.

It's not a guarantee, you know. Things might still shift and change with the boys, with everything. But right now, in this moment, it feels like you're on the same page. All of you.

And for tonight, that's enough.

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Hogsmeade

Words: 935

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

“Any plans for the weekend, Moony?” James asked pointedly.

Sirius cursed him internally and then cursed himself. Why on earth did he decide to tell Peter ‘Has-Never-Kept-A-Secret-In-His-Life’ Pettigrew about his tiny crush on Remus? James had known about it less than a day later, and several weeks on, James was getting impatient, which was exactly why Sirius hadn’t told him in the first place.

Remus looked at James for a moment, “Not since the last time you asked.” He said with a small frown. “Is this your way of asking me to Hogsmeade?”

“And if it was?” James asked with a grin that Remus didn't like the look of at all.

“Prongs, be serious.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” James muttered, and Sirius kicked him under the table. “Ow! Fuck you, Padfoot! I mean, I’m serious! Go to Hogsmeade with me.”

Remus was looking more and more concerned, he looked to Pete and then to Sirius, but they seemed as baffled as he was. “As mates?”

“Sure, if that’s what it takes to get you there.” James shrugged.

“Is this some convoluted attempt to make Lily jealous? Because I can tell you right now, it won’t work.” Sirius wanted to smooth the crease between his eyebrows. “I’d honestly just planned to stay here and read. It’s going to snow.”

“Hogsmeade in the snow is very romantic!” James grinned, “I’ll buy you a hot chocolate.”

Remus rolled his eyes, “I have no idea what you’re trying to do, Prongs, but sure. I’ll go to Hogsmeade for hot chocolate.”

“Wonderful. Does Madam Puddifoots take reservations? I want to make sure we get a good table right by the window so we can watch the snow.”

Sirius choked on his coffee, and Remus instinctively rubbed his back until he could breathe again, without even looking at him. Sirius stood up and left the table without a word.

“Ok, what’s going on?” Remus asked.

“With Padfoot?” James said innocently, “No idea. Maybe he’s jealous because he doesn’t have the balls to ask someone to Hogsmeade.”

Remus sipped his tea. “Oh. Who did he want to ask?”

“Unimportant.” James gestured vaguely towards the doors. “But what is important is our date.”

“I don’t think I agreed to a date,” Remus said.

“Nonsense. Of course, you did.” He looked at Pete, “Didn’t he?”

Pete said nothing, fearing that if he opened his mouth, he’d say something that he’d regret more than he already regretted telling James.

“You’re being weird.” Remus frowned at him. “I’m going to go and see if he’s alright.”

“Fine, abandon your boyfriend!” James said dramatically.

Remus scowled as he got up from the table, “Fuck off.”

“Well, you started strong.” Peter said as they watched him walk away, “But then you fucked it up in a fairly huge way.”

“Ah, the story of my life, Pete.” James went back to his toast as if nothing had happened.

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius had taken the map and was nowhere to be found before classes. The next time Remus saw him in Charms, he mouthed ‘You okay?’, to which Sirius nodded stiffly before turning away from him. Remus considered that maybe it wasn’t James. Maybe he’d done something wrong. He went back over breakfast and tried to piece together anything that might have made Sirius upset. Sirius had kicked James under the table, but Remus couldn’t remember what James had muttered to prompt that. Maybe James would know.

As they filed out of the classroom, Remus grabbed James’ arm and dragged him into a side corridor. This did not go unnoticed by Sirius, who couldn’t believe his eyes. He pushed past Pete and raced back to the dorm before his feelings started leaking everywhere.

“Moony, we haven’t even been on a date yet!” James teased.

“Why did Sirius kick you earlier?”

James paused, “What?”

“At breakfast, you said something and he kicked you.” He leaned against the wall. “He’s upset about something.”

“Yeah, it’s probably the Hogsmeade thing,” James said nonchalantly. “Like I said, probably jealous.”

“Well, that makes no sense. Pretty much anyone would agree to go with him if he asked.”

“Oh, believe me, Moony. That’s what I’ve been telling him!” James smirked, “I also said ‘If you don’t ask soon, someone might beat you to it!’.”

“Must you be so cryptic?” Remus rubbed his temple. The moon was less than a week away. ‘All the more reason to have a nice weekend planned’, James had said to Sirius a few days ago.

“Ok let’s go through the facts.” James did his best Professor Binns impression, “One, Sirius could get almost anyone to go to Hogsmeade with him if he asked. Two, I told him that if he didn’t ask soon, someone else might. Three, he left the Great Hall in a huff after you agreed to go to Puddifoots with me.”

“I didn’t agree to— wait, what?” Remus froze, “Go back, you think that’s why he left?”

“You are two of the smartest people I know, and this is possibly the most frustrating thing I’ve ever gotten myself involved in,” James said with a smile. “Maybe you should ask him.”

“Ask him why he left or… ask him to Hogsmeade?” Remus said quietly.

“I imagine one will lead to the other.” James shrugged. “Do insist on a table by the window though. It’s not actually any more romantic but when it’s icy, you do get to see more people fall over.”

“You’re something else,” Remus said with a laugh before walking away.

“And just like that, our work here is done!” James said as Pete came round the corner.