ִֶ་༘࿐

❝ who cares? i can see unicorns and fairies and you can't. ❞

[spenxciebaby]

modern marauders au

Waking up sandwiched between Barty Crouch Junior and Evan Rosier

The first thing that hit you upon waking was the agony. It was as if there was a something inside your very skull, pounding repeatedly with some sort of tool. You'd barely sat up an inch before groaning and flopping back down.

At the familiar, melodic ringtone you'd set for your best friend, Marlene, you reach blindly for your phone, finding it easily.

"Hey, Marls." You groan into the phone as you accept the call.

"Don't you 'hey Marls' me! You disappeared last night! We were all worried!" Her voice is sharp, but you can hear the underlying concern and care in her voice.

'Last night'. That would be the answer to why you are currently experiencing the world's worst hangover. There had been an interhouse party in the room of requirements. Loud, thumping music, hundreds of sweaty bodies, flashing strobe lights, spilled drinks and bile.

You manage to pry your eyes open, expecting your familiar, cosy Gryffindor dorm. This is not it. A cold dread coils in your gut, focus immediately sharpening, which only causes more pain. You turn slightly, and your breathing falters.

Familiar short brown hair, defined shoulders and back. Barty Crouch Junior.

You immediately turn to climb out the other side of the bed. Your heart stops for the second time within the minute.

A familiar face is right in front of your own, his light eyelashes fanning peacefully over his cheeks in sleep. Evan Rosier.

Trapped.

"Can't talk, Marlene. I'm in a situation." You whisper sharply into the phone.

"What are you–?" She starts.

"I'll explain later." You interrupt quickly, pressing the end call button.

Now alone with Slytherin's two infamous fuck boys, you are presented with two options.

One) You sneak out the bottom of the bed then run. Never look at them again, transfer classes. Hell, transfer schools. Move across the world, start fresh.

Two) Wake them up, confront them, face the awaiting embarrassment head on.

Neither sound particularly pleasant.

Before you can choose which option has the biggest benefits, the decision is made for you.

Evan's eyes flutter open, immediately locking onto yours. "Hey, princess." His voice is thick with sleep, his eyes holding residue exhaustion from the previous night.

His voice wakes Barty, who rolls over with a grumble to face you. "'s too early." His voice is rough, tired. Then his eyes find you. "Come back to sleep, baby." He pats the spot you were previously laying, right between them.

Now you're really looking at the space, it does look incredibly warm and snug. With a small huff, you lie back down. Both boys smile.

The space is exactly how it looked. You're cosy, bundled up under the thick duvet surrounded by not one, but two, warm bodies. With the dreadful hangover and ungodly hour, you're quickly pulled back under the veil of sleep, nestled safely between two life sized, breathing teddy bears.

a/n i know some of you might find this disappointing but i find smut quite uncomfortable to write!! i may come back to this and make a smutty part two one day, but that day is not today. also i'm really tired because it's 1am!!!

[spenxciebaby]

peter pettigrew headcannons

pre-hogwarts!peter had grown up around James, due to their parents being close friends. However, as James was far louder, this resulted in a silent resentment which grew and grew. He hated how James just knew how to act, how James only had to walk into a room and the focus immediately turned to him.

hogwarts!peter already silently resented James. He wasn't too hateful when they first started, until James immediately clicked with the Black boy. That meant Peter wasn't James' best friend anymore, leaving him in the background. While he was still a part of the friendgroup, he never felt appreciated.

hogwarts!peter had been left behind, yet again. He was sat under a tree, upset, when some nice Slytherin boys approached. They'd introduced themselves as Evan and Barty. They sat and spoke to him and later invited him to join some organisation, convincing him it was just a little club and it was for good.

hogwarts!peter never told Remus, Sirius or James about Evan and Barty. He continued to meet the two friendly Slytherins in private, and eventually began disappearing weekly for deatheater meetings, though he didn't understand at the time.

hogwarts!peter was quickly exploited by the Dark Lord. A sad boy who resented the Potter boy? Perfect. He was offered a new position, an upgrade in roles. This meant he was seeing the Dark Lord far more, and he had to do some digging on James. The digging wasn't exactly hard; he had known James his whole life, and he could simply turn into a rat to hide and listen.

post-hogwarts!peter had finally had enough. James had a perfect life. A nice house, a pretty wife, a newborn son. When the Dark Lord suggested he show up at the Halloween Party rather than Peter, he agreed out of spite. He was unaware of the true plan to kill James and Lily.

post-hogwarts!peter became deeply depressed as the news reached him. His oldest friend? Dead. Sirius? In Azkaban, probably for life. Remus? All alone.

post-hogwarts!peter was told to stop being such a sensitive crybaby. He got worse and worse.

post-hogwarts!peter grew to fear and despise the Dark Lord, but he was in far too deep. Running would mean he was next.

a/n peter hate is not appreciated here! thankyuu

[spenxciebaby]

꒰ ⸝⸝ boyfriend!camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱

now playing . . . in between

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who had made you matching bracelets as the kids did their craft time.

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who spent a whole hour making sure the beads he picked matched your eyes perfectly.

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who did this all from memory alone.

It was fair to say James was, utterly and wholesomely, infatuated with you.

When he found out you liked the sunrise, so he got up at the crack of dawn to make a breaskfast picnic to eat by the lake, while the sunrise painted the sky in shades of red and orange. James had snuck into the kitchen to make everything, telling himself you only deserved the absolute best, and the best was not some shop bought food. That morning, he made blueberry muffins, a little fruit bowl and pancakes. He dropped them off at the lake and then went back to the senior boys' cabin to get dressed nice and then picked some flowers in your favourite colour before sneaking into the senior girls' cabin to wake you.

"Good morning, baby," he'd whispered, peppering sweet kisses all over your face. Your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, your eyelids, your chin, your mouth. He just stayed there until you'd woken up properly, then helped dress you because you were still tired. He covered your eyes as you walked to the lake, making sure it was a proper suprise. Every step was slow, guided. "There's a rock there," "tree root step high," along with other little comments to ensure you didn't trip. When you reach his little picnic, he uncovers your eyes.

"Surprise, princess," he whispered affectionately in your ear. It was perfect.

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who considers himself the luckiest man in the universe, because you're dating him, not Sirius or Barty or some other guy. You could've had your pick of any counsellor. Hell, you could've had anyone, anywhere. Yet you chose him. James Fleamont Potter; the prankster, the sweetheart, the bully, the flirt. You chose all of him. His sun and his darkness.

Every night, at the campfire, he toasts your marshmallows for you. If you try, he lunges for the packet, grabbing it before you can. He always picks the biggest, fluffiest marshmallow for you. James has long since memorised how you like your marshmallow toasted, making sure it's perfect every time.

Once the marshmallow was slightly burnt. "'s fine" you murmured. He still got a new one and restared the process to ensure you only got perfection.

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who snuck into the senior girls' cabin to cuddle during free time.

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who forced the other senior counsellors to swap duties with him purely so he'd be with you.

When he found the books by your bed, he drove you into the small town nearby and bought you every book your heart wanted.

It was a small cozy bookstore. There was an incence being burnt somewhere, warm toned lamps, the scent of old books. Not to mention, it was incredibly eco friendly. The bookstore, while selling new books, also had a section to rehome second-hand books. You insisted he didn't have to buy you books, but he encouraged you to pick some. "C'mon, baby, I'm loaded. Just let me make you happy, yeah?"

You left that store with a big stack of books. So many you didn't even know how you'd fit them in your bag at the end of summer.

꒰ ⸝⸝ camp counsellor!james . ⁺ ꒱ :: who hoped summer would never end.

a/n I think this is cute!

[spenxciebaby]

꒰ ⸝⸝ boyfriend!ghostface!sirius . ⁺ ꒱

scream x marauders crossover!

cw horror • suspense • mystery • obsession • brief intimate teasing • bad temper

There wasn't a star in sight, the moon hidden behind a cloud. The foggy, black night sky really set the mood as your boyfriend parked on the street in front of the Macher house. It had been turned into an airbnb, just as the masks and knives had been handed into a museum for a "ghostface exhibit". You hardly found it funny; real people had suffered because of "ghostface", yet everyone just found the situation humorous. At halloween, it was impossible to go the night without seeing someone dressed up as ghostface. Society seems to overlook the deaths, the reoccurrence of people putting on the mask and going on killing sprees.

Was everyone really so heartless?

What if someone else put on the mask, repeating history once again?

Sirius had insisted on staying over at the airbnb. He'd recently grown infatuated with "ghostface", and staying in the original location? He'd begged you to come with him, since you'd initially refused. Unfortunately, you're absolutely weak for your boyfriend. Now you're here, in the place Stu Macher and Billy Loomis, the originals, had first attacked Sydney Prescott and died.

He spent the whole flight to California listening to podcasts talking about the killings and how everything went down, some even from victims who'd survived. Then, last night, in the hotel, Sirius had sat you down to have a movie marathon. You watched every stab movie with him for the millionth time, but hey, at least you're spending time together. Though, you were, to be entirely honest, sick of "ghostface". Everything to do with it; the victims, the locations, the offenders, the voice, all of it. Why could people not just leave it alone? The poor victims' families must feel awful with everyone talking about the monster who murdered their daughter or son, aunt or uncle, sister or brother. They must be heartbroken.

Sirius is giddy with excitement, bouncing on the spot as he waits for you to exit the car. Once you do, he leads you down the path to the rumoured-haunted house. Your bags are slung over one of his shoulders, his other hand stretched back, clasped in your hand to pull you along. He's like a puppy getting a new toy. As you reach the front door, he drops your hand to feel around his pockets for the key he'd been given by the airbnb owner. Something feels off, and not the fun "off". The inside is pretty much what you'd expect; there's chalk outlines where Billy Loomis and Stu Macher passed, a giant electronic statue wearing a ghostface costume that moves. The furniture remains frozen in time, exactly as it was in 1996. Well, except for the television that flattened Stu Macher's skull, that's in the museum down the road – another landmark Sirius wants to visit while you're in Woodsboro, California, before you return to drowsy, depressing England.

In the master bedroom, the bags are tossed asside. He backs you towards the bed until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. You go down with a faint startled squeak and a laugh. "You're going to get us kicked out, baby."

"It'll be fine, pretty girl." He murmurs, following you down. His knee slides between your legs, pressing against your warm mound through your jeans. His lips latch onto your neck, tracing the soft skin with wet, sloppy kisses.

A soft moan escapes your lips, your back arching up into him. "We really shouldn't–"

He rolls off you with a scoff. "Fine. Be like that." He stands up, pacing a few steps while running a hand through his silky black hair. "I'm going for a walk." He declares decisively, stalking off down the hall. You sit up, listening to the front door slam behind him. Great. Now you're alone in the creepy Macher house.

Or are you?

You rise from a bed, blowing out a slow breath to calm your frayed nerves. You're finally starting to calm down when your phone rings, making you jump out of your skin.

No Caller ID

Your heart beats wildly. Is ghostface back? Are you it's victim? You hesitate, then pick up the phone. "Hello?" Your voice shakes, sounding small.

"What's your favourite scary movie?" Asks the cliche ghostface voice.

Hair stands tall on the back of your neck, goosebumps rising along your arms. "That's not funny. Who are you?" You put on your brave, big girl voice.

"Surprise, baby." It's his voice. Sirius. The man you've been dating for three and a half years. The only person you've truely loved.

Before you can process the shock, the window smashes inward. A muscular, achingly-familiar body drops through the newly created gap.

a/n I couldn't be bothered writing any more of this so I might make a part two if people like it!