#marauders microfic

[fictionalsimp09]

Sick - Wolfstar - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 240 words - AO3

“Sirius, baby,” Remus says from the outside of his bed curtains, “let me help you. Please.”

“Go-” He coughs rather violently, “-away.”

He silently chuckles at the ridiculousness of his boyfriend—his confident, expressive, clingy boyfriend—being the one who refuses to let anyone see him sick. Whereas Remus, usually rather reclusive, is so exhausted when he gets a cold that he just wants to be looked after, he just wants to be held. Though that is not the case after a full, when he just wants to be left alone and forget about the monster he became the night before.

“I'm not going anywhere, Pads, so you might as well just let me take care of you.”

“But I'm all gross and phlegmy.”

“I don't care how disgusting you are. I love you and I want to help.”

This back and forth goes on until Remus finally mutters, “I made you some soup that my mum always makes me when I'm not feeling well.”

He hears a huff and feels the magic making the curtains immovable dissipate. Quickly, before he changes his mind, Remus slides onto his bed and hands him the container of soup.

“Thank you,” Sirius murmurs after a spoonful. “This is delicious.”

Once he finishes eating, Remus lies down and pulls the duvet over them.

“Moony, what are you doing? You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

He places a brief kiss to his clammy forehead. “Worth it.”

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

Friends - Peter Pettigrew - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 495 words - AO3

Peter has always struggled to make friends. He was too weird for the muggle kids in his town, and the few wizards there had already formed a friendship group that had no place for him. So, he spent the first eight years of his life only occasionally playing with his older sisters, though as they grew up, they had less and less time for him. They had their own friends and boyfriends, their own lives. Peter got used to being alone from a young age, playing with his toys, teaching himself chess, watching his mum tend to her garden and learning everything he could without bothering her. 

But one day at the park, a boy with messy hair and a wide grin approached him and inquired about what he was doing. Peter could barely get a word out and merely pointed to the worm he found in the mud. He thought the other boy would run away, disgusted by him and his new buddy, instead he sat down and said, “I’m James. Can we be friends?” 

“Hello, new friend. I’m Peter.” 

From then on, the two of them were inseparable. They would play together every day, running around at the park, seeing who could climb a tree the fastest, telling ghost stories under the blanket during sleepovers. They were truly the best of friends. 

All throughout their time at Hogwarts, they were beside each other’s side. They made new friends, had different hobbies, attended different clubs. But first and foremost, they were each other's first friend, and nothing could ever destroy their bond, nothing could ever tear them apart. 

Everything changed when they graduated and signed up to fight on the frontlines of the losing side of a war. They knew they were joining the good guys; they were protecting the friends they had made at school who were not pureblood like them, and the millions of innocent people in the country. They were doing the right thing. Right? 

But as the years went by, and their numbers were quickly dwindling, Peter didn’t know what to do. He loves his friends more than anything. Or, more than almost anything. Is he really that much of a selfish coward to put his own life above theirs? Above James’? Lily’s and baby Harry’s? 

Peter stares into the mirror in his dimly lit bathroom, eyes bloodshot, dark bags underneath them, hair greasy. He looks a complete mess. He would do anything for this war to be over, to be able to live without looking over his shoulder every five minutes, to actually find joy in just being alive again. He would do anything to live, not fight, not merely survive. He would do anything, even kill the first friend he ever had, the only person he could ever truly be himself around, the boy who changed his life for the better. Peter despises himself, but if it’s a choice between his life and James’, he’d choose himself. Always.  

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

Shiny - Moonwater - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 300 words - AO3

Shivering, Remus walks as quickly as his bad hip and knee would let him, mentally cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella. It’s England, for crying out loud. The weather doesn’t care that it’s the middle of summer, of course there would be a torrential downpour when he leaves the house wearing a thin t-shirt and not his usual jumper. But the shiny pavement brings him a little joy, seeing mini rainbows every few steps, until he finally makes it to his building. He looks into the mirror in the lift, hair dripping wet and sticking to his forehead, white top practically see through with how soaked it is. He can’t wait to step inside and relax in a really hot bath before cuddling his boyfriend underneath a fluffy blanket and drinking a warm cup of tea. 

“Hi, baby,” Remus calls out as he closes the door behind him, finding little puddles in his trainers as he takes them off. 

“I hope you didn’t get caught up in the rain,” Regulus says as he enters the living room of their flat, pausing when he catches sight of him. 

“Yeah, I know. I look a right mess.” 

“Take it off,” he rasps. 

“What?” 

“Take your clothes off. Now.” 

“Why- Oh.” Remus chuckles at the idea of Regulus being turned on by his current state. “You know, my clothes are pretty tight right now. I could use a bit of help.” 

Regulus steps towards him and lifts his top over his head, hands gently running over his bare chest, a shiver running down his spine at the sensation of his perpetually cold hands, before he slams his back against the door, kissing him with fervour. 

Sod his bath and cuppa, this—Regulus, lips pressed against his—is all he wants right now. 

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

Mouse - Marylily - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 356 words - AO3

Mary jolts awake at the sound of clattering pots and pans in the kitchen, looking to her side to find herself alone in their bedroom. Yawning, she trudges to the kitchen to find her girlfriend picking up saucepans that must have fell out the cupboard. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Lily apologises. 

“It’s okay, love.” 

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but I’m making you pancakes for breakfast. There’re fresh strawberries and cherries in the fridge, and whipped cream and I got some golden syrup too.” 

She helps Lily up and puts the pans back into the cupboard—save for the frying pan—before pulling her closer, wrapping her arms around her waist and peppering kisses all over her face, unable to contain the grin that spreads across her face at the other woman’s adorable little giggles. 

“Baby, let me finish breakfast, please.” 

“Happy anniversary,” she whispers and steps back to let her do her thing. 

Mary makes them both a drink and sits at the table to watch her expertly flip the batter, though she is admittedly staring more at her than her pancake making skills. That is until, out of the corner of her eye, she sees a scurry of movement on the floor, screaming at the tip of her lungs when she turns her head. She jumps up on the chair she’s sitting on, yelling, “Rat!” 

“What? Where?” 

She points to the corner where the bin is, and Lily chuckles, “It’s not a rat, it’s a mouse.” 

“Rodent then,” Mary snarls. “Get rid of it. Please, please, please, get rid of it.” 

“Okay, just breathe.” 

Lily drops a bit of the batter on the floor beside it and quickly picks the beast up when it goes to investigate, running out the front door to put it outside. 

“You can get down now,” she says when she returns. 

“My hero,” Mary laughs as she jumps down and connects their lips, the kiss being interrupted by a loud blaring alarm. 

“The pancakes!” Lily exclaims, turning around to find them charred and inedible, sighing as she mutters, “Time to start again.” 

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

Desperate - Jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 266 words - AO3

“You know there is a perfect, simple solution to all this moping, right?” Dorcas asks, not looking up from filling her nails. 

“I’m not moping,” he mutters. 

“Okay, brooding then.” 

“I’m not brooding either.” Dorcas doesn’t say a thing, and he sighs. “What is this proposed solution then?” 

“So, you admit you are moping?” she teases. “Rather than sitting in your dorm pretending as if the guy you are so clearly in love with is on a date with someone else right now, you could just ask him out yourself.” 

He scoffs. “I am not in love with James Potter.” 

“I didn’t mention James.” 

Regulus opens and closes his mouth, mentally chastising himself for that slip-up. “Whatever. But I’m not desperate enough to ask him out.” 

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I tell him to ask you out instead then?” Pandora adds. 

“Not you too,” he groans. “I am perfectly fine with my book right here-” 

“Avoiding your feelings like the emotionally constipated mess you are,” Dorcas interrupts. 

“I am not emotionally constipated!” he exclaims. 

“You are,” Pandora agrees. 

“Ugh, you win,” he declares, abruptly rising from lounging on his bed. “I’m going to end his date.” 

“Reg...” Pandora says, “maybe you should confess your feelings when that poor girl isn’t around.” 

“Too late.”  

He slams the door behind him and lets out a long breath before going to find Barty and Evan to distract him from thoughts of hazel eyes and the brightest, widest smile he has ever seen. There's no way he would ever actually admit to such feelings, least of all to James. 

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

High tea - Wolfstar & Platonic Moonflower - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 330 words - AO3

Remus sighs, kicking his muddy boots off at the front door as he lets himself into Lily’s cottage for their daily high tea. 

“How was work today, babe?” she asks as he sits down at the small round table in the kitchen, immediately helping himself to some shortbread biscuits. 

“Same old, same old,” he replies. “The vet came though, and guess what?” 

“No one’s sick or injured, are they?” 

“No, nothing like that. But one of the cows is pregnant.” 

Lily smiles as she brings over the teapot and sits opposite him. “Oh, that’s great news. Congratulations, Papa Remus.” 

Remus chuckles, and begins buttering a scone as he mutters, “The vet was nice.” 

“What was that?” 

“I said the vet was nice,” he repeats, feeling his cheeks heat up as he thinks of that jaw-dropping face, piercing grey eyes and long, black hair tied back into a messy bun. 

“Ah, that kind of nice then. How hot?” 

“So hot, Lils.” He looks up at her, feeling so pathetic for barely being able to utter a word to this man earlier today. “He even has a hot name. Sirius.” 

“When are you going to ask this Sirius guy out then? Or have you already done that?” She laughs to herself. “It’s you, of course you haven’t.” 

“Hey!” Remus exclaims, but his friend raises an eyebrow at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Fine. You’re right. But I’m not going to do anything.” 

“Why not?” Lily says as if he has personally offended her. 

“Because he is bloody gorgeous and I’m…” 

“You’re what?” 

“I’m me.” 

“Listen here, Remus Lupin.” He stops with his hand halfway to his mouth, being full named by Lily Evans is a terrifying thing. “You are the kindest, smartest, nerdiest guy I know, and anyone would be lucky to date you.” 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, taking a bite of his scone. “I might ask if he wants to get a drink on his next visit to the farm then.” 

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

Boyish - Marlene Mckinnon - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 400 words - AO3

Growing up, Marlene desperately wanted to be the daughter her parents wanted, the daughter her mother would be proud of. She wore pretty dresses and curled her hair and, after looking like a clown when she did it herself, let her mother do her makeup. She tried to be the perfect girl, dainty and meek and beautiful. But that never felt like her. 

“Here, put this on,” James says as he walks her home after spending all day at his, taking his jacket off and handing it to her. He smiles when he notices her hesitation, “You know I run hot, and I can see how much you’re shivering.” 

Marlene puts it on, oversized on James, but massive on her. But when she gets home, having forgotten to give it back to him, she looks in her bedroom mirror, the jacket hiding her silhouette, she can’t help the wide grin that spreads across her face, liking the reflection staring back at her for the first time. 

When she started Hogwarts, Marlene began to experiment with her style, borrowing jumpers from Remus, band tees from Sirius, crop tops from Mary. It took a while for her to go out in public wearing boyish clothes, not able to get over the idea she would be disappointing her parents, especially with being their only daughter. But she has never felt so comfortable in her body as when she wears baggy clothes, and the occasional cropped tank top. She has never felt so her. 

As the years pass and she became more confident in how she presents herself, there was still the underlying feeling that no one would want her when she isn’t the perfect feminine girl. But when Dorcas kissed her after a party, making her head spin for many reasons—she’s into girls too, Marlene thought she hated her after that mistake she made when they were paired together in potions and ended up getting them both detention for setting fire to their table—what she found most surprising is that the most gorgeous woman in their year didn’t find her too weird or unconventional. In fact, Dorcas admitted between short, sweet kisses that her confidence in being true to herself is one of the main things that she was initially attracted to. 

From then on, Marlene vowed to always be true to herself, no matter what others may think of her. 

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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[fictionalsimp09]

Score - Jily - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 186 words - AO3

“Okay, okay, everyone,” James walks into the waiting room, tear tracks down his cheeks and smiling like a mad man, “the moment you have all been waiting for…” 

“Just tell us!” Marlene exclaims, obviously on her at least third cup of coffee with how jittery she is. 

“Lily has given birth to a beautiful, adorable, healthy…baby boy!” 

“It’s a boy?” Sirius jumps up to pull him into a tight embrace, the massive smile on his face morphing into tears. “It’s a boy!” 

“The start of our very own Quidditch team,” he replies, equally as choked up. 

“Yes!” Marlene matches their enthusiasm. 

“I think Lily would have a score to settle with you if you make her give birth six more times,” Mary says. 

“There’s always adoption,” James brushes her off. “Or we could be like my parents basically collecting strays.” 

“I think you’re forgetting to tell us one key thing,” Peter declares. 

“What’s that?” 

“His name.” 

“Follow me,” James says, and leads them all into the room with his exhausted wife and now calm son.  

Lily smiles up at their friends. “Everyone, meet our son, Harry.” 

@mushroom-enby @sidelit @spitefulwizard @sren-yeah @b4rty-r0s13r-w1ll-fck-y0ur-m0m @wolfstarisareligion @ghostlymakercat @rheoxies @ninjitheninjaturtle @hardlandnight @regulusablackwhodontswim @ineffablelyqueerwolfstarshipper @in-your-wall-s @astrolevl @definitelyregulusblack

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