Hello. I Dont Really Know How To Do This Properly

Hello. I don’t really know how to do this properly

Can you make something where the reader is like two/three years younger then the marauders and like grew up next to James so he’s like her older brother type thing? Completely fine if not but this has been stuck in my head

(zero romance pls if you do pls)

thank you so much for the request!! ♡ i tried to play around with the plot a little :)

always | j.p.

tw: fluff

james potter x reader (platonic)

Your hands instinctively come up to shield your face as confetti rains down in the Great Hall for the third time that evening.

A frown settles on your face as you slowly lower your arms, feeling the split second when your hand comes into contact with a drink on the refreshments table and knocks it to the ground. A frustrated groan escapes your lips.

You flick the remnants of the drink off your hand and sigh, moving away from the table to go lean on another wall. You shuffle your way through the various couples giggling and dancing and snogging, feeling your resentment grow by the second. Once you’ve safely reached the other side of the mob in the middle of the hall, your eyes rake over the place.

As usual, Hogwarts was shimmering with splendour for the annual ball. Fairy lights adorned the ceilings, and decorated tables were laden with every type of food you could think of. The long tables in the centre had been cleared to allow for dancing, while the Weird Sisters played popular tunes at the front of the hall.

You tried not to let it get to you, but as you awkwardly shuffle around to make way for couples trying to get past you, a dull ache makes its way into your heart.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had very sweetly asked you to the school dance a couple of days ago and you had agreed. The whole evening had been spent in preparation for tonight, doing makeup with the girls and putting on your lovely dress adorned with golden butterflies. But Kingsley fell terribly ill an hour before the dance, and couldn’t muster the strength to even get out of bed.

It was unfortunate, something you were so looking forward to going wrong like this. Especially since you really really liked Kingsley.

You sigh, loneliness and embarrassment starting to get the better of you as you resign yourself to staying as an onlooker. Couples fade in and out of your vision, twirling and prancing around. A huff of resentment escapes you as you try not to glare too hard at those having fun.

Just when you stand up straight, deciding that there was no point staying, you feel a hand on your shoulder and startle. Turning around, you come face-to-face with a grinning James Potter.

“Hey Pickle. You doing good?” he asks, his smile widening as he sees the frown on your face.

That was what James had called you since you first met on the Hogwarts express years ago, a timid first-year crashing straight into the most popular third-year in the school. You bumped into him while holding a jar of pickles (god knows why), and ended up hurling them all over him. He laughed it off while you apologised incessantly and cleaned him up. He thought you were adorable.

That day, James pestered you about yourself till you snapped, and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

“No, Potty. I’m not doing good. Kingsley’s sick,” you mutter, trying to veil the hurt in your voice with anger. He lets out a sympathetic coo and softens, his hand moving down to take yours.

You sigh, your anger dissipating to leave disappointment. “I’m gonna leave,” you murmur, turning around to get to the door. But his grip on your hand remains firm. You turn back around, brows furrowed in confusion.

He's smiling at you, tugging on your hand with that mischievous James Potter twinkle in his eyes. “Come on, Pickle.”

“What?”

“Come on. One dance?”

“Jame-“

“Pickle! You’re no fun. Pleaaaaase?”

You groan, mocking reluctance as you let yourself be led by him as he pulls you to the dance floor. “I can’t dance.”

“You don’t have to, I can do it well enough for the both of us,” James grins. He wraps his arm around your waist, takes your hand in his other one.

He pokes at your hand, gesturing for you to put it on his shoulder. You sigh and do as you’re told. He gives you a small smile and you soften, unable to help smiling back in return.

As the two of you position yourself, the loud manic pop music previously playing comes to an end. A gasp escapes you, your eyes lighting up as you hear the first notes of ‘O Children’ start to play. A childhood favourite, your mum’s go-to song to sing.

James chuckles, slowly starting to sway you along to the beat.

‘Lift up your voice, lift up your voice…’

You move along with him, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm.

‘Children!...’

James’ footing is perfect, yours is haphazard. His movements are elegant, yours rusty. His dancing on beat, yours attempting to be. But the smile that graces both of your faces is the same.

‘Rejoice, rejoice…’

A giggle escapes you as he twirls you around, both of you bursting out into laughter as you trip on his shoe and your face lands smack on his chest. None of you pull away.

You stay like that for a while, your face buried in your shoulder as he holds you close. The two of you move from side to side in time with the music. You melt into his touch, feeling all your disappointment disappear as you tenderly dance to the soft tune.

“Thanks, James,” you murmur gratefully. He smiles down at you.

“Hey, none of that. You’re my Pickle - of course I had to pester you to dance, I always will,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You grin into his shoulder, playfully punching him in the stomach.

“And this song better be playing at your wedding. I need to show everyone, especially your future husband, just how much you suck at dancing.”

“James!”

He laughs, wincing as you pull away to smack him on the shoulder. He pushes you back, but catches you before you tumble to the floor. The two of you are clutching your stomachs and each other’s hands.

You and James dissolve into heaps of laughter and joy, just like you always do.

I loved “meant to be”! I was wondering if you could write part 2 where Remus and Sirius realize what they were doing and go after reader and they fix things and get together again? angst but with happy ending

aaaaaa yes lovely, just posted it! thank you for reading <3

Hi! Could you write headcanons for marauders with a dhampir reader(half vampire half witch) whos a part of the marauders? No romance if possible xx

hello!! thank you for the request, this was really fun to research about and write. let me know if there’s anything i got wrong :)

headcanons of marauders x half-witch, half-vampire!reader

tw: mentions of blood

• james goes starry-eyed whenever you do even the slightest of cool things, like one-handedly lifting a large stack of books because of your enhanced strength

• he forces you to play quidditch with him, happy that there’s “finally someone who can give him some competition” with your fast reflexes

• he’s insanely protective of you, and immediately gets riled up when someone is mean to you

• and he protests that you should speak to dumbledore about getting safe sources of blood to consume, frustrated when you keep insisting that it’s okay

• sirius can’t keep his eyes off of you when you move because you do it so gracefully that he wonders if you’re even real

• he thinks your being a vampire is the coolest thing ever. like when he’s introducing you to someone new, he never forgets to mention, “oh, and she’s a half-vampire,” and he’ll wrap his arm around your waist proudly as you die of embarrassment

• he hexes anyone who dares to say a word about your vampire identity

• you and sirius have the same dark humor. essentially matching each other’s freak

• sometimes he just shows up with big bottles of blood for you to drink and never tells you where he got them from

• remus asks you to teach him all about the dark magic you know, the two of you spend hours in the library pouring over books about enchantments and darkness

• if someone discriminates against you, he’ll just silently glare at them, but later he’ll cast the nastiest prank ever known to humankind on them

• remus and you just get each other, both of you having that one dark part of yourself you can’t seem to love

• the two of you go on walks late at night and sit near the black pond to talk about how deeply you hate yourselves

• remus is eternally grateful to you for helping to heal him with blood magic after full moons. he acts like he hates that you’re doing this, but he’s so thankful he has to blink tears away

• he offers to kill people (with a straight face) in order to satisfy your blood cravings, which you hastily decline

• he spends hours researching until he finally finds a spell, which he casts on you when you’re asleep every morning, so the sun doesn’t affect you as much throughout the day

• on the off-chance that remus forgets to cast the spell, the boys overreact when you start to burn up in the sun

• sirius shrieks and grabs your hand, running and pulling you to shelter while screaming about how you’re dying and melting away

• james immediately tries to stand tall and shield you from the heat, hurriedly ushering you back into shelter before he worriedly takes a look at your burns

• peter just lathers some magical sunblock on you which he carries around with him

• peter was terrified of you and your abilities when you first met, but slowly grows fond of you

• he’s the only one with common sense when it comes to your need to consume blood, and charms goblets to automatically produce it

• he always has vials of blood in his bag for you

• you’re the marauders’ secret weapon when playing pranks because you’re really good at sneaking around and detecting when someone’s gonna catch you

• they make sure you never feel like a burden, and always do their best to help you, whether it’s by finding shaded paths to walk on or by staying up with you when your nocturnal tendencies act up

Hello c

hello sweets!! <3

request guidelines ♡

requests are currently: open

i’m really grateful for every request i receive, and will try my best to write it! please be respectful with your requests and give me time to get to them. i am a person with a life outside of tumblr, writing is just something i like to do for fun ♡

how to request:

tell me the type of reader. if unspecified, i will automatically do fem!reader

specify the character

give me an idea of the scenario/concept

characters i currently write for:

remus lupin

james potter

sirius black

you can request any other characters in the marauders era / golden trio era, i’m open to writing for them

what i will write:

fem!reader by default and gn!reader if you specify

any body type of reader, just specify

fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

au’s (eg. coffee shop au, princess au etc.)

what i won’t write:

huge age gaps

smut

present abuse

present self-harm (i've written some but i don't think i'll be writing about it again, past self-harm is okay though)

present sexual assault

thank you for being here with me ♡

Hello. I don’t really know how to do this properly

Can you make something where the reader is like two/three years younger then the marauders and like grew up next to James so he’s like her older brother type thing? Completely fine if not but this has been stuck in my head

(zero romance pls if you do pls)

thank you so much for the request!! ♡ i tried to play around with the plot a little :)

always | j.p.

tw: fluff

james potter x reader (platonic)

Your hands instinctively come up to shield your face as confetti rains down in the Great Hall for the third time that evening.

A frown settles on your face as you slowly lower your arms, feeling the split second when your hand comes into contact with a drink on the refreshments table and knocks it to the ground. A frustrated groan escapes your lips.

You flick the remnants of the drink off your hand and sigh, moving away from the table to go lean on another wall. You shuffle your way through the various couples giggling and dancing and snogging, feeling your resentment grow by the second. Once you’ve safely reached the other side of the mob in the middle of the hall, your eyes rake over the place.

As usual, Hogwarts was shimmering with splendour for the annual ball. Fairy lights adorned the ceilings, and decorated tables were laden with every type of food you could think of. The long tables in the centre had been cleared to allow for dancing, while the Weird Sisters played popular tunes at the front of the hall.

You tried not to let it get to you, but as you awkwardly shuffle around to make way for couples trying to get past you, a dull ache makes its way into your heart.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had very sweetly asked you to the school dance a couple of days ago and you had agreed. The whole evening had been spent in preparation for tonight, doing makeup with the girls and putting on your lovely dress adorned with golden butterflies. But Kingsley fell terribly ill an hour before the dance, and couldn’t muster the strength to even get out of bed.

It was unfortunate, something you were so looking forward to going wrong like this. Especially since you really really liked Kingsley.

You sigh, loneliness and embarrassment starting to get the better of you as you resign yourself to staying as an onlooker. Couples fade in and out of your vision, twirling and prancing around. A huff of resentment escapes you as you try not to glare too hard at those having fun.

Just when you stand up straight, deciding that there was no point staying, you feel a hand on your shoulder and startle. Turning around, you come face-to-face with a grinning James Potter.

“Hey Pickle. You doing good?” he asks, his smile widening as he sees the frown on your face.

That was what James had called you since you first met on the Hogwarts express years ago, a timid first-year crashing straight into the most popular third-year in the school. You bumped into him while holding a jar of pickles (god knows why), and ended up hurling them all over him. He laughed it off while you apologised incessantly and cleaned him up. He thought you were adorable.

That day, James pestered you about yourself till you snapped, and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

“No, Potty. I’m not doing good. Kingsley’s sick,” you mutter, trying to veil the hurt in your voice with anger. He lets out a sympathetic coo and softens, his hand moving down to take yours.

You sigh, your anger dissipating to leave disappointment. “I’m gonna leave,” you murmur, turning around to get to the door. But his grip on your hand remains firm. You turn back around, brows furrowed in confusion.

He's smiling at you, tugging on your hand with that mischievous James Potter twinkle in his eyes. “Come on, Pickle.”

“What?”

“Come on. One dance?”

“Jame-“

“Pickle! You’re no fun. Pleaaaaase?”

You groan, mocking reluctance as you let yourself be led by him as he pulls you to the dance floor. “I can’t dance.”

“You don’t have to, I can do it well enough for the both of us,” James grins. He wraps his arm around your waist, takes your hand in his other one.

He pokes at your hand, gesturing for you to put it on his shoulder. You sigh and do as you’re told. He gives you a small smile and you soften, unable to help smiling back in return.

As the two of you position yourself, the loud manic pop music previously playing comes to an end. A gasp escapes you, your eyes lighting up as you hear the first notes of ‘O Children’ start to play. A childhood favourite, your mum’s go-to song to sing.

James chuckles, slowly starting to sway you along to the beat.

‘Lift up your voice, lift up your voice…’

You move along with him, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm.

‘Children!...’

James’ footing is perfect, yours is haphazard. His movements are elegant, yours rusty. His dancing on beat, yours attempting to be. But the smile that graces both of your faces is the same.

‘Rejoice, rejoice…’

A giggle escapes you as he twirls you around, both of you bursting out into laughter as you trip on his shoe and your face lands smack on his chest. None of you pull away.

You stay like that for a while, your face buried in your shoulder as he holds you close. The two of you move from side to side in time with the music. You melt into his touch, feeling all your disappointment disappear as you tenderly dance to the soft tune.

“Thanks, James,” you murmur gratefully. He smiles down at you.

“Hey, none of that. You’re my Pickle - of course I had to pester you to dance, I always will,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You grin into his shoulder, playfully punching him in the stomach.

“And this song better be playing at your wedding. I need to show everyone, especially your future husband, just how much you suck at dancing.”

“James!”

He laughs, wincing as you pull away to smack him on the shoulder. He pushes you back, but catches you before you tumble to the floor. The two of you are clutching your stomachs and each other’s hands.

You and James dissolve into heaps of laughter and joy, just like you always do.