──── Blahaj / Shark !

♯ PRACTICE MAKES IT BETTER ; theodore nott

PAIRING! theodore nott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! struggling with the local slang, you feel out of place until you meet theodore nott, the silent slytherin (based off this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.3k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fluff, kissing + lmk !

NOTES! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :)

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

AMERICA WAS VIBRANT AND DIVERSE. The music scene was thriving with genres like grunge, hip-hop, and pop dominating the airwaves. To you, it was a place of contrasts and boundless possibilities. It was a land where towering skyscrapers stood next to historic buildings, and where you could find everything from bustling cities to quiet, open countryside. The diversity was striking; every state feels like its own little world, with different cultures, foods, and ways of life. It was a country where you could experience all four seasons, with hot summers, cold winters, and vibrant springs and autumns. The sheer size and variety made it feel like there was always something new to explore, whether it was a national park, a music festival, or just a quirky little town.

Then you moved to England.

Leaving behind the familiar sights and sounds of America, you stepped into a new world of magic and centuries-old traditions.

The first thing you noticed was the climate change. England's weather was full of frequent rain and cloudy skies. You had to get used to bringing an umbrella everywhere with you.

Hogwarts in Scotland was completely different from Ilvermorny, which resided on Mount Greylock. The towering buildings of the castle intimidated you a bit as you were used to the more modern school, but you were excited for the change of scenery.

The stone corridors, moving staircases, and enchanted portraits had captivated your imagination. The castle itself was full of new discoveries. Sure, you missed your old friends dearly, every one of them, but the owls worked hard and you managed to make new friends here.

As an exchange student from America, walking the hallowed halls of Hogwarts was a totally new experience. The ancient castle with its sprawling grounds, enchanted staircases, and hidden passageways was like stepping into a dream. But it wasn't just the magical environment that threw you off balance; it was the British slang that seemed to pop up in every conversation.

During your first week, you found yourself constantly bewildered by the new expressions. At breakfast, when a cheerful Hufflepuff asked if you wanted a "banger" with your eggs, you hesitated, unsure if it was an insult or a menu item. When a Ravenclaw mentioned being "knackered" after a long night of studying, you had to suppress a laugh, thinking it sounded more like a sound effect from a comic book than an expression of exhaustion.

The confusion was endless: "snogging" instead of kissing, "knickers" instead of underwear, "blimey" instead of a simple exclamation of surprise. You did your best to keep up, but the nuances of the language often left you feeling like you were missing the punchline of a joke. To put it simply, you were lost.

One afternoon, you were sitting in the library, poring over a stack of books for a Transfiguration assignment, when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Ciao, piccola," Theodore Nott drawled, sliding into the seat across from yours. His presence was effortlessly welcomed, with his cool demeanor and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was a strange boy at first, never letting anyone, but when you warmed up to him, he was a totally new person.

"Hi, Theo," you greeted him with a smile playing on your lips. Theodore had been one of the first students to approach you, his Italian heritage a surprising connection. He often teased you in his native language, enjoying the way you fumbled with the unfamiliar phrases. A nuisance, that he was.

"Come va la tua giornata?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. ("How's your day doing?")

Already hearing this phrase a few times, you learned to understand its translation. With a sigh, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's been . . . interesting. I'm still trying to understand half of what everyone says here."

Theo chuckled, the sound rich and warm to your ears. "British slang getting to you?"

"You could say that," you admitted, leaning back in your chair as you watched his amusement at your misery. "I feel like I need a translator just for conversations."

"Well, if you think British slang is confusing, wait until I teach you some Italian slang," Theo smirked at the idea that appeared on his mind. "It's a whole different level."

Now this got your attention. "Teach me, then. It can't be that difficult from the British slang."

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott became your informal language tutor. He started with simple phrases, weaving them into everyday conversations until you began to pick them up naturally. He taught you how to greet someone with "Ciao, amico!" instead of a formal "Buongiorno," and how to say "Andiamo!" when you were ready to go.

One rainy afternoon, as you sat together in the Great Hall, Theo decided to test your knowledge. The rain tapped persistently against the high, arched windows, casting a muted gray light across the large hall. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the sky outside, swirling with dark clouds and flashes of lightning that illuminated the space completely. Despite the dreary weather, the Great Hall buzzed with the soft hum of student conversations, punctuated by the clinking of silverware and the rustling of pages.

Theo, seated across from you at the Slytherin table, leaned back casually, a mischievous glint in his eye. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, framing his sharp features. You had grown accustomed to his teasing, the way he delighted in challenging you with phrases in Italian, watching with amusement as you thought through the unfamiliar language. Today was no different, his eyes scanning the hall as if seeking inspiration for his next test.

You had been in the midst of revising for an upcoming Charms exam, your notes spread out around you in a chaotic array of parchment and textbooks. The soft light from the floating candles above cast a warm glow on the pages, making the ink shimmer slightly. As Theo's gaze returned to you, you knew another one of his lessons was coming.

"What would you say if you were really tired?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Theo's questions were always a blend of practical and playful, designed to push you just a little further each time. He spoke with the ease of someone completely comfortable in his skin, his words flowing like the rain outside, steady and sure. His Italian phrases, though foreign at first, began to weave themselves into the mind of your understanding.

Your responses grew more confident, the hesitation in your voice diminishing with each passing day. You found yourself thinking in Italian at times, the language slipping into your thoughts as naturally as your own. Theo's delight was evident, his eyes lighting up whenever you got something right, his praise sincere and heartfelt.

The rain outside showed no signs of letting up, but within the Great Hall, a warmth lingered.

You thought for a moment, then confidently replied, "Sono stanca morta." The phrase rolled off your tongue more smoothly than before, each syllable a small victory in your journey to master his native language. The meaning — "I'm dead tired" — was all too familiar after long days filled with classes and studying.

Theo laughed, the sound rich and genuine, echoing softly in the near-empty Great Hall. His laughter was like a reward, a confirmation that you were getting it right. Silver eyes sparkled with approval, the corners of his lips curling into a smile that made your heart flutter. The warmth of his reaction was comforting against the dreary, rain-soaked afternoon outside.

"Well done!" His voice was filled with genuine pride and delight, making you feel accomplished. His praise was never out of place; it was always heartfelt.

Your heart swelled with a mix of pride and joy. Learning Italian was not just about understanding a new language, but also about bridging the gap between your worlds. Each phrase, each word, was a step closer to understanding Theo better, and a way to connect on a deeper level.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching yours, waiting for your next move. "And if you wanted to compliment someone on a job well done?" His question was another gentle challenge, pushing you to dig deeper into your newfound vocabulary.

"Bravo!" you answered without hesitation. The word felt natural, a perfect fit for the context. As you spoke, you couldn't help but smile, the simple word carrying a world of meaning and mutual respect. Seeing the approval in Theo's eyes, you felt a surge of confidence.

Theo's smile broadened, and his expression softened with pride and admiration. The approval in his eyes was more than just about your grasp of the language; it was about your willingness to immerse yourself in something new, to share a part of his heritage, to make an effort to connect.

The atmosphere around you felt lighter, the earlier tension of the day's studies dissolving into a shared moment of triumph and connection. The Great Hall, with its towering windows and ancient stone walls, seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little world of language and laughter.

The candles above flickered gently, casting a warm glow that danced across Theo's features, highlighting the pride in his eyes.

One day, as you walked together by the Black Lake, the cold water reflecting the moody sky, Theo turned to you, his expression thoughtful. The gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the ancient trees that lined the shore, their branches swaying rhythmically as if in silent conversation. The scene was picturesque, the expanse of the lake stretching out before you, a serene contrast to the bustling life within the castle walls. It was quiet out here, and you liked this spot.

"You know, you've picked up Italian slang faster than I expected," Theo remarked, his voice carrying a hint of admiration and surprise. His thoughtful tone blended seamlessly with the natural sounds around you, creating a moment of perfect harmony.

You laughed, the sound bright and carefree, echoing across the still waters. Nudging him playfully, you replied, "Maybe I had a good teacher." The playful banter was a reflection of the easy camaraderie that had developed between you, a testament to the countless hours spent learning and laughing together.

Theo's smile softened at your words, a tender expression that seemed to light up his face. His gaze lingered on you, the depth of his affection and pride evident in his eyes. The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, each shared glance made your knees tremble. Like you were the only girl at Hogwarts.

"Maybe," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with a warmth that enveloped you. "Or maybe you just have a knack for languages." His words were a gentle compliment, a recognition of your efforts and abilities.

The path around the Black Lake was peaceful, the occasional ripple disturbing the otherwise mirror-like surface of the water. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and damp earth. As you walked side by side, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you, the rest of the universe fading into the background.

Your footsteps synchronized, a silent dance of familiarity and comfort. The conversations flowed effortlessly, alternating between Italian lessons and shared dreams, each word weaving a tapestry of understanding and companionship. Theo's presence was a constant, steady and reassuring, his thoughtful insights and quiet encouragements a source of strength.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The twilight hues painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, a breathtaking sight that added to the magic of the moment. Theo's silhouette against the backdrop of the setting sun was a picture of serenity and quiet strength, a reminder of the stability he brought into your life.

Before you could fully process what was happening, the Slytherin boy took a small step closer, closing the distance between you. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, his proximity sending a gentle thrill through your body. He reached out, his fingers lightly brushing against yours, the touch sending a spark of electricity up your arm.

In that moment, with the golden light of dusk casting a magical glow around you, Theo leaned in. His movements were deliberate, filled with a tender hesitation. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure, unadulterated connection.

The kiss was gentle at first, a soft press of lips that spoke everything you needed to know. The taste of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gentle caress of his hand against your cheek — it all combined to create a sensation that was both exhilarating and deeply comforting.

Theo's hand moved to cup your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. The kiss deepened, becoming more confident, more insistent. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The connection between you intensified, the kiss becoming a language of its own, expressing everything words couldn't.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. The world slowly came back into focus, the sounds of nature reasserting themselves around you. Theo's eyes, still holding that mix of affection and awe, met yours. A soft, contented smile played on his lips.

"Grazie, Theo," you said softly, your voice filled with gratitude.

"For what?" he asked confused, his brow furrowing slightly.

"For being patient with me. For this. For . . . everything."

Theo's eyes softened, and he reached out, intertwining your fingers in one. "No worries," he replied, his voice just as soft. "I'm glad I could help."

I think Florida!!! represents having an exciting, self-destructive fling. Post-relationship (Little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in / Love left me like this and I don't want to exist) she's stuck in a bad place mentally and comparing herself to her friends who seem to be thriving and maybe don't quite understand how she's feeling (And my friends all smell like weed or little babies, and this city reeks of driving myself crazy). So she commits to a fun distraction (A time-share down in Destin / I need to forget so take me to Florida). And it temporarily keeps her away from her problems (So you pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas). She knows it's self-destructive (What a crash, what a rush, fuck me up, Florida), not a real, long-term love (At least the dolls are beautiful), and something people will judge her for (Tell me I'm despicable, say I'm unforgivable), but it works a great distraction from her pain (Florida is one hell of a drug).

SLEEPY DAYS ꪆৎ CS55

blurb . requested . fluff and comfort

He runs his hands along the sheets, the material pulls through his knuckles as his fingers drag up the pillows in hopes of running through your soft hair.

The confusion comes easily when he doesn’t feel you in bed next to him, the frown comes even easier, as he rubs his eyes, all blurry and mussed up from sleep, and sees your back straight, sitting half awake on the edge of the bed looking just about ready to get up and presumably shower.

He whimpers, pushing his body across the large bed to your side and caging your waist in his strong albeit tired arms.

You jump, the feeling of cold hands squeezing you shocks you a bit and wakes you up more.

“Why are you awake?” He rumbles, groggy and disconcerted, nosing at your nightgown still laying down.

Your fingers squeeze his on your waist, threading one hand through his fingers and stretching the other behind your back to run through his hair and neck, it’s slightly uncomfortable, but it brings great comfort to have him near you in the mornings again.

“I have pilates to get too.”

He squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your tailbone, voice dropping an octave lower.

“But don’t you wanna sleep with me? I’ve missed you so much mi vida, it was torture waking up and not being with you in the mornings, you just can’t leave me.” He whines a little towards the end and you muffle a laugh, gasping when he pinches you playfully.

“Please dolcezza, you’re all I need, and i’m afraid pilates doesn’t need you just as much I need you.”

His hold on you gets tighter if possible, practically cocooning you in him, you know that he’d bury you in him and keep you there forever if he could.

You smile kissing his knuckles mumbling an okay, squealing as he pulls you up half asleep and rolls you into him, forging yourself into practically one singular entity.

He smears kisses over your face, all sticky with sleep and sweetness, grinning at the peals of soft laughter that he pulls out of you.

“Además, puedo ayudarte con un tipo de pilates mucho más divertido más adelante.”

Oh he’s sure pilates doesn’t need you nearly as much as him.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , this was super fun to do !! thank you so much for the request angel, i hope you loved it <33

bet you’re thinking she’s so cool ˖⋆࿐

the soul of siara ♡ stephanie garber novels, pink and brown color combo, plushies, spring rewatches of to all the boys i’ve loved before films, gold jewelry, thoughts of julian santos, living like steph bohrer, deer and puppies, finding the beauty in people, bagels at least once a week, old romcoms, cd collections, bows bows bows, dreams of paris and new york and london, beagracie, baking sweet treats, heart bursting with love

thinking about percy jackson and wearing his initial on a necklace! it was him that had gotten it for you, a silver/gold (your preference) charm, a ‘p’ around the chain, falling perfectly around your neck. and believe it when he says he loves it when your clothes are on, yet even better when they’re not. his favorite thing is seeing the chain rest of your bare chest, heaving slightly from the heat of the moment, and the relentless placing of his lips against yours. it’s the way it rests over your skin so delicately, and it makes you look nearly ethereal to him when you’re beneath him like this wearing his initial around your neck. with this known information, you’d never take it off regardless of the situation.

BIRTHDAY PRINCESS ꪆৎ CL16

“Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall.” He murmurs carefully gliding across the wooden flooring towards your bedroom.

Hands holding onto a breakfast tray filled with a vast selection of your favourite fruit, coffee, eggs and of course your birthday cake.

Strawberries, cherries, blueberries and bananas all cut up and prettily put into a pearly white bowl.

Sitting in the very middle of the tray a gorgeous white chocolate, lemon and raspberry bento cake iced in pink with the words ‘happy birthday, mon amour’ steals the show.

He’d be lying if he said he made it himself, God only knows what would have happened to you and your poor stomach should he have made a Charles special birthday cake.

His teeth still rung from his last attempt at a making a homemade meal for date night, pizza? More like chewing gum.

“Leo, Leoooo, viens, réveillons la princesse d'anniversaire!” The puppy excitedly wags his tiny tail, trotting on his legs and nuzzling into Charles’ feet. ( Come along, let’s wake the birthday princess up! )

Pushing the door open with his hip he grimaces as the cool door comes in contact with his bare skin, he looks to make sure you’re still asleep and smiles when he notices you covered under the large mound of the duvet with Leo laying at your feet having jumped up to snuggle near you.

He places the breakfast tray down and rushes softly and carefully to bring in the prettiest bouquet of pink flowers wrapped in brown paper and sealed with a soft white bow.

You’re the light of his life, he thinks as he moves towards you, seating himself on the edge of your side of the bed with a clear view of your cheeks smushed into the cool pillow — that he’s sure you unconsciously flipped not too long ago — and eyes covered with a silky champagne coloured eye mask.

He runs his knuckles down your cheek, unable to contain himself from feeling just a little bit of you in the calm of the morning.

“Mon trèsor, it’s your birthday. Joyeaux anniversaire.” The words are whispered and cool against your cheek, as he smears kisses over the tiny shred of skin peeking through the covers.

“Aren’t you so excited?” He smiles indulgent and kind to your whining in the morning, chuckling as you pull your head from the pillow and into his lap.

Stroking your hair softly he whispers kisses wherever he can find, “Come on darling girl, J'ai tous tes favoris ici, Leo aussi” ( I have all your favourites here, Leo too.” )

Separating your head from his lap — albeit reluctantly — he gets up to bring you the breakfast he’s prepared, that is most definitely edible, he checked too!

“See!” Rising slowly and pulling off your sleep mask, you blink at your boyfriend and the breakfast that he’s brought with him, eyes clumping with remnants of sleeping and working hard to clear any bleariness you smile at him all gentle and sweet, sending his heart into a right tizzy.

Grinning at you he cocks his head upwards a bit towards your headboard silently asking you to sit up, then placing the breakfast tray on your lap and joining you by your feet, next to a now dozing Leo.

“Happy birthday, amour.” Handing you flowers with one hand he rubs your leg with the other.

You smile bringing them up to your nose. “Thank you, Charlie.”

“Leo would tell you happy birthday too, but he’s very tired you see.”

Laughing at your sleeping dog you nod. “Is he?”

“Oh yes! It’s very hard to nap while someone’s making noise in the kitchen, Leo’s an absolute star for doing so without waking up.” He exaggerates his words with finesse, stroking Leo’s head and smiling up at you.

You giggle hands coming over your face as a bashful expression takes over Charles, he’s sure that no matter how long you two date he’s always going to be in awe of you, in awe of everything you do and say.

He’s sure the you could make the simplest thing in the world better, and he’s thankful everyday that he has the ability to make you laugh and bring you pockets of joy in your saddest moments, and further sweeten your happiest of days.

And this is the ideal ‘happy day’. It’s a birthday, your birthday. And he’ll be damned if it isn’t perfect.

He gets up slowly, walking over to you a lighter in his hand. “Cut the cake amour!”

He lights the candles on the cake and sings softly, “happy birthday to you…”.

He pecks your nose and pulls his phone out, positioning it towards you he snaps a few photos and continues singing softly as you smile over at him.

“Je t’aime tellement.”

“Je t’aime tellement aussi Cha, merci!” He moves forward and kisses your knuckles feeding you a bit of the cake.

“You don’t have to thank me my love, ever.” You smile pulling him in for a kiss, noses brushing and smiles joining, pulling away to laugh only when you feel the patter of a now awake Leo.

“Of course, he wakes up when he smells the food!”

“Oh Charlie, I hope this isn’t another pizza incident.”

“No! I checked this time amour I promise!”

“Okay Cha.”

And when you both fell ill the next day Charles swore it was the sushi you had for dinner and absolutely not the three day expired milk he unknowingly mixed in with the eggs.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , this is super cute and fluffy, and i’m so tired cause i’ve written this at 4:30 am, but thank you sm for requesting!! i hope you liked this <33

♯ PUPPY PRINCESS ; remus lupin

PAIRING! young!remus lupin x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! every gift of yours is something remus tends to cherish, especially your love for creating from nothing (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 3.1k

WARNINGS / TAGS! pure fluff, remus is nothing but smitten and wrapped around your finger

NOTES! autumn’s coming and my obsession with the marauders is slowly defrosting ☹️ all the credits to the pretty devider below belong to @aqualogia !

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

I. A TANGLED WEB OF YARD AND ADORATION

THE LATE AFTERNOON SUNLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH THE TALL WINDOWS of the Gryffindor common room, casting a warm glow across the stone walls. You're sitting comfortably on the couch, your legs tucked beneath you, with your hands working steadily, creating a rhythm with the yarn and crochet hook. The familiar motion of looping the yarn through the hook brought a sense of calm, a quiet joy that you've always found in crafting.

Remus Lupin sat nearby with a thick textbook in his lap, but the words kept getting tangled in his mind due to his lack of attention on the subject. He was supposed to be studying — there's a Transfiguration exam tomorrow that he really should be preparing for — but he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from you. He watched the way your hands moved, the smooth, practiced motions that seem to come so naturally to you. There was something about it that fascinated him, though he couldn't quite put it into words.

"You're staring again," you say, glancing up and meeting his dark eyes with a small, knowing smile. Your tone is light, teasing. You're used to it now — how his attention drifts from his studies to you whenever you're engrossed in one of your hobbies.

Your boyfriend looked slightly embarrassed, flushed cheeks caught in the act, but he smiled back at you. "Sorry," he replied, though it didn't sound as sincere as it should. He wasn't sorry for admiring you and your skills. "I just . . . I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" you asked, your hands never pausing in their work. The yarn slides smoothly through your fingers.

"Make it look so easy," he said, genuinely curious. "It's like you're weaving magic with your hands."

You gave him a soft chuckle at that, shaking your head as you finish off another row. "It's not that complicated, really. It's just practice. Anyone can learn if they have the patience."

The werewolf nodded thoughtfully, though he was not entirely convinced he could manage it. The heavy textbook was set down, the revision long forgotten. "What are you making this time?" he asked you, leaning forward slightly, his curiosity piqued which charmed a smile on your lips.

"A scarf," you answer, keeping your focus on the yarn as you hold up the length of your still unfinished work that's slowly but surely taking shape. The stitches were tight and even and the colour of the fabric shined in the fire of the fireplace. "Winter's coming soon, and I figured you could use something warm."

Remus' brows lifted in surprise, eyes flickering between your face and the scarf in making. "For me?"

"Of course," you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I wanted to make something you'd actually use. Plus, it's a good excuse to work with this colour."

He couldn't help but linger at the scarf — a deep burgundy, the color of his tie, which reminded him of autumn leaves and Gryffindor pride. It was a shade he'd always liked, and the thought that you'd chosen it specifically with him in mind made him feel a quiet sense of gratitude. 

"Thank you," he said quietly now with sincerity lacing his every word. "I really appreciate it."

You looked up then, meeting his gaze with a smile, the kind of smile that made something warm unfurl in his chest. Something unspoken passed between the two of you — an understanding, a quiet connection that didn't need words to be felt. "I enjoy making things for people I care about," you replied. "And you can't go wrong with a good scarf."

There was a comfortable silence as you returned to your work, and Remus found himself drawn once again to the way your hands moved with such practiced grace. He'd always been fascinated by the kind of magic that doesn't come from a wand — the quiet, everyday magic that you brought to life with your hobbies. He watched as the yarn twisted and turned, forming something tangible and warm, something that wasn't there just moments before.

After a while, you glanced at him again, your eyes thoughtful. "You know," you started, voice casual but inviting, "if you ever want to learn, I could show you how to crochet. It's not as difficult as it looks."

Remus hesitated, caught off guard by the offer. He'd never thought of himself as particularly crafty — his talents have always leaned more towards theoretical things, like books and spells. But the idea of sitting with you, learning something new together, was oddly appealing. "I don't know if I'd be any good at it," he admitted, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. A part of him was terrified his hands weren't stable enough for such work as your own were.

But you just shrugged lightly, focus still on the scarf as it grew longer with each stitch. "It's not about being good at it," you exclaimed. "It's just . . . something calming to do with your hands. A way to focus your mind on something simple."

The werewolf considered this, watching the way your hands moved with a steady, comforting rhythm. There was a kind of peace in it, a meditative quality that he couldn't help but find appealing. "Maybe I'll give it a try," he said finally, the corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile. "If you promise not to laugh at me."

"I would never. I think you might surprise yourself."

The hours slipped by as the common room gradually emptied, students heading off to their dormitories as the evening wore on. The fire burned low in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls, but you and Remus remained where you were, content in each other's company. The scarf in your hands grew  longer with each passing moment, the yarn slowly transforming into something tangible, something with weight and warmth.

Eventually, you finished your work, holding up the completed scarf for Remus to see. The stitches were beautifully done, the pattern simple yet elegant, and the color — rich and deep — seemed to glow in the firelight. "What do you think?" you asked, a hint of pride in your voice at your boyfriend's speechless reaction.

Remus reached out, his fingers brushing over the soft fabric. It's perfect, he thinks, not just because of how it looked, but because of what it represented — your care, your thoughtfulness, the time and effort you put into making something just for him. "It's . . . perfect," he opened his heart to you, voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

You gave him a sweet smile, pleased with his reaction. "I'm glad you like it."

II. THE ART OF CLAY

THE SOUND OF RAIN ECHOED SOFTLY AGAINST THE GLASS WINDOWS OF THE HOGWARTS GREENHOUSE, creating a gentle rhythm that blended with the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional drip of water from overhead plants. The air was thick with the earthy scent of wet soil and blooming herbs, an atmosphere so comforting to you that made the space feel like a world apart from the usual hustle and bustle of the castle. You were seated at a small worktable near the back, a lump of cool, gray clay before you, your hands already beginning to shape it into something more.

Remus Lupin stood quietly nearby, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed casually as he simply watched you. There was a sparkle in his gaze, the kind that comes from someone who finds fascination in the smallest details, in the quietest moments. His curiosity was piqued by the sight of you working with the clay, your hands moving with a practiced confidence that hints at countless hours spent honing your craft.

The room was otherwise empty, giving the two of you a rare moment of privacy amidst the bustling school and your friends who were constantly full of life (named James Potter and Marlene McKinnon). The greenhouse, usually a place for Herbology classes, had became your private studio, a place where you could indulge in your love for pottery — a hobby that was as grounding as it was creative.

"Do you ever get tired of making things?" Remus asked, breaking the comfortable silence. There was no hint of judgment in his tone, only genuine curiosity. He'd seen you immersed in various crafts before — crocheting, jewelry making — but each time, you seemed as passionate as ever.

You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Not really," you replied to his question, your hands still working the clay. "It's like . . . I don't know, a way to clear my mind. I like the idea of starting with something so simple, like a lump of clay, and turning it into something that wasn't there before."

Remus nodded thoughtfully, his eyes following the movement of your hands as they smoothed the surface of the clay. There was a certain grace in the way you worked, a rhythm that was almost hypnotic to him. "What are you making today?" he questioned again, this time moving closer to get a better look.

"A bowl," you explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Your fingers pressed gently into the clay, shaping the walls of the bowl with careful precision. "Something simple, but useful. I thought it might be nice to have one for our common room. We could use it to hold things — keys, cigarettes, chocolate frogs."

A charming smile appeared on his lips at that, the idea of something as ordinary as a bowl bringing a sense of homeliness to the often chaotic Gryffindor common room. "That sounds like a good idea," the praise left him naturally when it came to you, pulling up a stool to sit beside you. "Do you mind if I watch?"

"Not at all," you replied, glancing at him briefly before returning your focus to the clay. "But be warned, it's not as exciting as it looks."

Remus didn't agree. He'd always been intrigued by the way you found joy in creating things, in bringing something new into the world with your hands. As he watched, he noticed the subtle movements of your fingers, the way they coaxed the clay into shape, turning a shapeless lump into something with form and purpose. It was a process that seemed almost magical to him, though he knew it was nothing more than skill and practice.

The rain continued to patter against the windows, a soothing backdrop to the sound of your hands working the clay. Every so often, you dipped your fingers into a small bowl of water, smoothing out imperfections and keeping the clay pliable. Remus had never seen you look so beautiful; hands dirty, hair messy, and you clothed in one of his favorite sweaters.

"You make it look easy," he commented after a while, his voice low so as not to disturb your concentration.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "It's not always. There's a lot that can go wrong — air bubbles, cracks, the clay drying out too quickly. But that's part of the fun, I suppose. It keeps you on your toes."

He gave you a nod, understanding the appeal in a way.

After a while, you sat back slightly, examining your work with a critical eye. The bowl was nearly complete, its shape smooth and even, the walls sturdy yet delicate. "What do you think?" you asked, turning to Remus with a small smile.

He leaned in closer, studying the bowl with a thoughtful expression. "It's an excellent work," he said, his voice sincere. "You've really got a talent for this."

You blushed slightly at the compliment, but there was a pleased look in your eyes. "Thanks, love. I'm glad you think so."

III. CRAFTING CONNECTIONS THROUGH SILVER AND STONE

THE CASTLE WAS QUIET AS EVENING SETTLED OVER HOGWARTS, the usual loud of students giving way to a serene calm. The Gryffindor common room was dimly lit, with only the flickering fire casting warm shadows across the burgundy rugs and tapestries. You were seated at a small table by the window, a soft light of the moon illuminating your workspace, where an array of tiny tools, shimmering beads, and delicate chains lay spread out before you.

Remus Lupin sat nearby, his attention drawn to the intricate work you were doing. He had always been fascinated by your hobbies, each one opening a door to your soul. But there was something particularly mesmerizing about watching you make jewelry — something in the way you handled the delicate materials with such care, transforming them into beautiful, wearable art. Watching your smaller hands mend the delicate pieces stirred a feeling in his chest.

"Doesn't it get frustrating?" the werewolf asked, leaning forward slightly, his eyes following the careful movements of your fingers. "Working with such tiny pieces, I mean."

You smiled softly, not taking your eyes off the silver chain you were holding. "Sometimes," you admitted, carefully threading a small brown stone onto the chain. "But there's something satisfying about it too. It's like solving a puzzle, finding the right combination of stones and metals to make something that feels just right, y’know."

He nodded thoughtfully, his gaze shifting to the array of materials on the table. Tiny glass beads of various colors sparkled in the firelight, alongside small stones and bits of silver wire that would soon be part of some new creation of yours. "It's impressive," he said quietly, more to himself than to you. "How you can take something so small and turn it into something so . . . meaningful."

You glanced up at him, a pleased smile on your lips. "Thank you, Remus. I think that's what I love about it — how something so simple can become something special, something that can be important to someone."

He watched as you carefully threaded a few more stones onto the chain, your fingers moving with the kind of ease that came from years of practice. There was a kind of magic in it, he thought — a different kind from what they learned in class, but no less powerful. It was a magic that didn't come from wands or spells, but from the heart and soul, from the desire to create something beautiful and meaningful.

"What are you making now?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him as he leaned in a bit closer.

"A bracelet," you replied, holding up the nearly finished piece for him to see. It was simple yet elegant, made of fine silver links with small brown and black stones interspersed between them. The stones caught the light as you turned the bracelet in your hand, their colors shifting subtly in the firelight. "I thought it might make a nice gift for someone."

Remus took in the bracelet, admiring the craftsmanship, the way the silver and stones complemented each other perfectly. "It's beautiful," he said, a note of awe in his voice. "Who's it for?"

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking up to meet his. There was a softness in your gaze, something almost shy. "I was thinking . . . maybe you'd like it," you said, your voice quiet, almost hesitant.

For a moment, Remus was taken aback, surprised by the offer. He hadn't expected you to be making it for him, but now that he knew, he felt a warmth spread through his chest, a feeling of gratitude and something more, something deeper. "For me?" he asked, his voice laced with surprise.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I wanted to make something that would remind you of our time together," you said, a hint of nervousness in your tone. "Something you could keep with you."

Remus felt his heart swell with emotion, a mixture of surprise, gratitude, and something else — something tender and profound. He looked at the bracelet again, seeing not just the beauty of the piece, but the thought and care that had gone into it, the meaning behind every detail. "I . . . I don't know what to say," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "It's . . . it's perfect. Thank you."

You smiled, the tension easing from your posture as you saw the genuine appreciation in his eyes. "I'm glad you like it," you said, your voice soft. "It's not much, but I wanted to give you something special. Something that's from the heart."

Remus reached out, his larger fingers brushing against the cool silver links as you handed the bracelet to him. The metal was smooth under his fingertips, the stones cool and solid. He could feel the weight of it, not just the physical weight, but the emotional significance it carried. "It's more than just 'something,'" he said, his voice quiet but firm. "It means a lot to me. Really."

You watched as he carefully slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, the silver and stones catching the light as they settled into place. There was something incredibly intimate about the moment, the quiet exchange of a gift that held so much meaning. It was more than just a piece of jewelry to him.

As Remus fastened the clasp, he looked at you with deep, unspoken gratitude in his eyes. The bracelet fit perfectly, resting comfortably against his skin, the cool metal and smooth stones a constant, reassuring presence. "I'll treasure it," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I promise."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, a sense of contentment that came from knowing you had given him something truly meaningful. "I'm glad," you replied softly, your eyes meeting his.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the occasional rustle of the curtains as a breeze drifted through the window. There was a sense of peace in the air, a quiet understanding that didn't need words to be felt. Surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the soft glow of the evening, he knew that this — these simple, heartfelt moments with you — were what he would carry with him through the darkest nights, a light to guide him through whatever lay ahead.

Lando reminds Max how he said he'll let Lando marry Y/n once he wins his first race

yn_verstappen My boy got his first win ❤️❤️so proud of you my love

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landonorris I think I fulfill the criteria for you know what @/maxverstappen1 do you remember what you said?

↳maxverstappen1 I refuse to remember

landonorris cmon I'd do it anyway

maxverstappen1 It was a JOKE

landonorris well I'm very serious about this

username1 What is Lando talking about?

↳username2 I think under some previous post Max said he'll let Lando marry his sister if he wins because it seemed so unrealistic but now oh well 💀

carlossainz55 As a friend of the both of you I can't wait

↳yn_verstappen Wait for what exactly? 👀

landonorris you know what 👀

yn_verstappen Nahhhh I know it was just a joke

landonorris yeah yeah, a joke, totally

username3 I AM CONFUSED

username2 I think Y/n thinks it wasn't for real😭

username4 Y/n blessing our eyes with the video on third slide 😏

↳yn_verstappen As a fangirl myself, I know what a fangirl desires 😌

username5 But fr fr Y/n would be so lucky if Lando actually proposed now

↳username6 I don't think he is being serious, they're still young and all

username7 And why would he try to outshine his first win with a proposal??

username8 So is the wedding happening or not?!

↳username9 It MUST happen now

josverstappen7 Impressive 👏

↳yn_verstappen Ik dacht dat ik je geblokkeerd had lol

username3 "I THOUGHT I BLOCKED YOU" LMAO

↳username10 Hey Jos, is Max on his way to the gas station yet?

username11 He's still walking from the circuit back to the hotel lmao

landonorris It's a win-win situation

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yn_verstappen Max still can't believe you did it lmao

↳landonorris he was the one who gave me the idea!

maxverstappen1 IT WAS A JOKE

landonorris doesn't change the fact that it gave me the idea

username1 Max gonna hate himself for the rest of his life lol he trapped himself with Lando as brother in law

↳username2 Poor Maxie 🤣

yn_verstappen Poor Maxie indeed lmao

carlossainz55 Did Y/n take these photos?

↳landonorris of course she did

↳yn_verstappen Yessir I did

georgerussell63 Why's the ring so small? 🤣

↳yn_verstappen Well I love it regardless

georgerussell63 He's just won a race, should try a bit harder, not sure if that impresses Max

maxverstappen1 Remind me, where's your ring for Carmen? 🤔

username3 Max casually shutting George up lmao

↳yn_verstappen He loves his brother in law after all🥹

username4 I love how Max pretends to not like Lando, but when George try to say something he's defending

↳username5 That's real sibling energy

carlossainz55 Congrats to the both of you! 💪

↳landonorris during one weekend I did two things no one expected me to do

username6 No but that's a valid point Max got, cuz how long have Y/n and Lando been together? A YEAR AND HE ALREADY PROPOSED

↳username7 meanwhile Carmen still waiting for her ring after years

username8 Max ain't getting rid of Lando after this

↳yn_verstappen I think he doesn't mind it 😅

username9 Jos getting another son to train

↳username10 Jos pls turn Lando into a world champion

username9 Possibly without the abuse part?

yn_verstappen Not possible I think lol

josverstappen7 Take good care of her

↳yn_verstappen Better than you did 😐

↳username11 Jos tryna make a comeback into Y/n's life lmao

username12 Suddenly he even follows Lando?

username11 Thankfully Lando doesn't follow him back

maxverstappen1 To clear up the accusations - I will not hate myself for giving him the idea, I enjoy having Lando in the family

↳yn_verstappen They know, Maxie 😭 they're just joking around

username13 Imagine Max, Lando and Y/n together in the same room with Jos 💀

↳username2 I meannn Y/n does a pretty good job avoiding her father, I don't think she wants Lando to meet him

username1 Man's extremely rich, are we surprised?

username2 Trying to impress Max lmao first the win, now this

username3 Well it's understandable that they want privacy on such day

username4 I NEED TO KNOW IF JOS WILL BE THERE

↳username2 Knowing Y/n she won't invite him

username4 As 👏 she 👏 should 👏

username5 Little Lando Norris is the last person from the grid that I expected to get married now

↳username1 Or ever lol

username6 I hope after they are married and have kids Jos will stay away from them

↳username7 Yeah I don't think Y/n would want Jos to be involved in the kids' life after how abusive he was towards Max

username8 Abusive 💀 if it wasn't for Jos Max wouldn't be a world champion

username7 What about Lewis who didn't have an abusive parent?

username9 I'm really hoping to see Y/n keep her last name so their kids can have the last name of a world champion

↳username2 Lando still has a chance 😭 if not this season, then he still has a lot of time

↳username10 Maybe "no kids before Lando's first championship" is their second rule lmao

yn_norstappen Better than I've ever dreamed of 💓 thank you everyone for being there for us and celebrating our love together 💓 and thank you to my amazing husband for making me his wife

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username1 norstappen in the username 😭 I love her she's iconic

landonorris thank you to my beautiful wife for existing

↳username2 I think we know who he can thank for this 💀

maxverstappen1 It was better than I expected

↳landonorris supportive as always❤️

↳yn_norstappen Chill Maxie we all know you're happy for us

georgerussell63 It was such a beautiful wedding

↳yn_norstappen You should take notes, maybe you'll need it one day

carlossainz55 I cried and I'm proud of it

↳yn_norstappen I had no idea you'd be so touched!

carlossainz55 I guess it was just very heartwarming to see Lando get married, especially when you're the one he's getting married to

yn_norstappen Thank you 🥹🫶 I also cried a lot and I'm crying again reading all these kind comments

↳username3 Lando also cried! It was funny to see that after he said he's just not the kinda guy to cry during touching moments like this

username4 Yeahhhh I was surprised he didn't cry after his first win like 🥹aren't u happy pookie⁉️

yn_norstappen If you like to see Lando crying, wait for a video of our wedding day!!

↳landonorris that was kinda cute!

charles_leclerc Your first win, your first wife, what's next?😂

↳yn_norstappen FIRST and LAST wife

landonorris obviously baby

username3 New gossip alert, he said "obviously baby" without a comma ("obviously, baby") so what if he's actually replying to Charles' question saying next is their first baby? 😭

oscarpiastri So happy to have been with you on such important day

↳landonorris cheesy osc

↳yn_norstappen Thank you Oscar

mclaren Cheers to the newlyweds 🥂 (and to many more wins of Lando's)

↳oscarpiastri But tbh such a shame there was no orange theme

landonorris the baby shower will be black and orange

oscarpiastri You're already planning I see

landonorris it's a bit obvious innit

yn_norstappen LANDO

yn_norstappen We're NOT having a baby YET

landonorris after the first world champion title✍️got it baby

josverstappen7 Shame I couldn't be there with you, but happy regardless

↳yn_norstappen You COULDN'T? I didn't invite you

↳username2 nahhh Jos is tryna make it seem like he couldn't make it but we all know he just wasn't invited lmao

having gossip sessions with charles while doing skincare and face masks. i’m really convinced he’s a little gossip girl at heart, like he’ll fill you in on all the drama that’s going on with the other drivers and he just looooves to listen to you yap

the way i giggled and kicked my feet with excitement when this appeared in my inbox omg.

allow me to set the scene: it’s the early hours of the morning. charles caught a late flight to wherever you are in the world after a race weekend with a promise that he had so much to tell you about everything that transpired in the days you were apart. you, of course, promised him the same, and thus waiting up for him was much less of a task than usual due to your excitement.

the moment he walks in, you waste no time in pulling him into your embrace, and he responds in kind, his luggage forgotten about by the door until the morning. he’ll follow you to the bathroom where you’ve set up a line of skincare products and face masks and immediately starts to fill you in on all the drama while you start to do his skincare for him. after race weekends like australia, you know he’s giving you every last detail. his reaction to max’s dnf, what he heard from other drivers afterwards, how ferrari celebrated their 1-2 finish. he’ll also tell you about what drivers definitely did not go out and get plastered at the club, and how they did not make absolute fools of themselves because of it. he probably has videos that he will be more than enthusiastic to share.

but as much as he loves to talk, he loves hearing you talk more. he could listen to you talk about anything for the rest of his life, honestly. he will insist that you tell him every little detail about all the gossip you gathered during your time apart as he delicately places a face mask on you, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration even while you’re smack talking people. and don’t think he just sits there and listens— he has the most dramatic reactions, and if you need him to play a part for a reenactment of something, this man will perform.

you will never have a better gossip buddy than charles leclerc. that is a promise.

★ how does f1 drivers react when you call them pretty. . .

norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen

cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.

now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood

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✹ lando norris

lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.

"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

✹ oscar piastri

oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.

"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.

✹ charles leclerc

he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.

you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.

✹ carlos sainz

he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.

"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.

✹ lewis hamilton

he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.

"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.

✹ george russell

he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.

"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.

✹ max verstappen

he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.

max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".

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