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nyeddleblog · 1 year

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So I recently learned Harvey and Jason's dad had BEEF and Harvey killed him apparently??? Okay. So. I propose we all imagine this:

You're Jason Todd. You're 4 years old.

You know, because the only reading material you have is your birth certificate. A copy of it, wilted by dry ink. You're always hungry. You get food sometimes, but no hugs, no kisses, no soft words. You're still hungry.

Your father only touches you with his belt or shoe or anything else he can grab and a small crumble of you welcomes it because it's better than nothing.

You're Jason todd, age 4, and you haven't seen your mother get up from the tub for 3 weeks. You try to shake her and wake her up but nothing worse. Your father takes his shower and doesn't care.

You're Jason Todd and you hear a voice -- gruff and thick but smooth and raspy, " Jesus fuckin' christ, Todd."

" I'm tellin' you I don't got the money. It ain't my fault that whore of yours left you and you're In a bad mood--"

You're Jason todd, hiding in a closet, when you hear the terryfing sound of your father being quiet for once. For once, he doesn't yell. For once, there's peace in your house. Gun smoke and all.

You're Jason Todd, age 4, when you meet Two Face. He's scary. He says he's gonna take you somewhere, and for you that's a Boogeyman's promise, so you trash and you scream and you yell, and he just holds you tight.

You hold back; He's big and warm and could crush you in paste, but he doesn't. He just rocks you and shushes you and promises he'll take you somewhere you'll like. He doesn't tell you to stop crying.

You do anyway, because you're 4, and you're tired, and you haven't had your nap all day because you were doing chores.

You're Jason Todd and you meet Bruce Wayne at 3 o clock in the morning.

He's tired; those dark clouds under his eyes indicate he hasn't slept, there's a hollowness to his sharp cheekbones, and he looks nothing like does on TV.

He doesn't look dazzling, or glamours, or dashing. He looks like someone whose adopted baby got taken back by their neglectful, dog shit parents, and he's never been more devoured by misery than then.

" harv..."

" thought you might know what to do with him," harvey shrugs, still keeping a tight hold on you, like he might lose you too, and you tremble and cry when you're moved away.

You don't make noise, thought. Making noise always gets you in bigger trouble. Bruce Wayne holds you like you're the most precious thing in the whole wide world.

He holds you're made of love and light and all things right.

And you still cry in his arms, because you just want your mommy, and you want to nap, and you want to read and you want to be kissed and hugged and cuddled you want everything you never got.

" Oh, Jason. Oh, sweetheart. "

You're Jason Todd, age 5, because today's your birthday. You spend the first 10 minutes of it sleeping gentle and teary in Bruce's arms, while another pair holds you both.

You're Jason Todd, and you might be the reason Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent start talking again.

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nyeddleblog · 1 year

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DEMONIA [PART 1]

Pairing: 0scar Isaac x Female! Oc. Warnings: mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of death, paranormal and pseudoscience subjects such as: satanism, demonology, mentions of witchcraft, mentions of ghosts, mentions of cryptids, mentions of cryptozoology, mentions of aliens, mentions of ufology, sexual jokes and sexual themes (as in: sex in general). Depression, anxiety, self harm, eating and sleeping disorders. Summary: in which Simone Pierre is a sleep deprived undergraduate and Oscar Isaac is the English professor who's doing his best to keep her sane.

Chapter 1: The Beginning.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, maybe some inaccuracy in terms of careers and majors because I really don't know how that works in other countries.

Simone woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing, her whole body aching from the night before. The room around her was spinning and she groaned, trying to remember the moment she fell asleep. She was probably too exhausted to actually get ready for bed because, right then, she felt incredibly uncomfortable; wearing the same tight clothes as yesterday, her make up smeared, her shoes dangling from her feet...

Her phone kept buzzing until she finally realized what that meant.

She groaned again, dreading more human interaction, "Hello?"

"Jesus Christ, Simone" Oscar exclaimed on the other side, chuckling a bit "Are you sure it's really you?"

"As far as I can tell, it's still me" the girl answered, humming slightly when her knuckles eased the blur on her eyes by rubbing them, "What do you need, professor?"

"Aw, Simone, sweetheart, you know you can call me Oscar...!" Her former docent was in a good mood, like most days. It made her smile, humming once more in agreement, "I called you to make sure the dean had sent you the information about our classes together."

Simone fell back on the bed, her eyes closed as she felt the sleep take over her coherent movements, "He did, yeah..."

"And did you receive my email?"

"Yup, I did...!"

"Great!" the professor exclaimed happily, creating a sweet, sleepy smile on her lips, "I'll get to your apartment in about an hour then!"

"See you...!" she dragged out the words until she heard the loud beeping of her phone, alerting her that he hung up the call. With that, she happily let her shoes fall off her feet and rolled over on the bed to keep sleeping on her side.

It would be a lie to say that she understood anything from what professor Isaac had just told her, so she went over his words over and over in the verge of slumber.

Last night had been one of the best nights she's had in a long time; she went out with some friends to celebrate her first job after graduating, even if it was one at the same university she was still studying at.

She was never a wild party goer, and her friends were pretty chill. They went to a karaoke, gossiped about some of their old classmates, sang a few songs and that would be it. But maybe, just maybe, drinks got a little out of hand...

"Wait, what did he say?" Simone murmured to herself, finally opening her eyes.

She definitely wasn't prepared to receive anyone. Not physically, and definitely not mentally; besides, her apartment was a mess. She wouldn't be able to find a solution in an hour...

11:38. The call was at 11:38, and it was 12:30 pm. She definitely blinked too hard for more than she thought, because she didn't have an hour... She had barely ten minutes.

She stood up quickly and ran through her small apartment to pick up any lose clothing that could be roaming around; left the dirty dishes on the sink, closed the kitchen door, accommodated the pillows on the sofa and ran barefoot to her bathroom to see how bad she looked. She was, in fact, a mess. Not only over dressed, but make up smeared everywhere and hair looking like a bird nest.

"I really, really want to die right now..." she sighed, overwhelmed by the weight of her own body, and how much she craved her bed.

She washed her face, took some time to untangle her hair and threw the tight dress onto the bathtub. The cotton pads, covered on mascara and blush, were left right next to the soap on top of the bathroom sink and, as she heard the door bell, she got onto a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. She would have admitted it wasn't the best outfit she had, if it weren't because she normally used something similar to college.

"I'm coming!" she yelled, giving a last look around her place to check that everything was in order because Oscar wasn't exactly her boss, but she wanted to keep it formal. She wanted to look worthy of her position.

When the girl opened the door, looking down into the man's bright smile, she could feel a mild mockery on his eyes. "Simone!"

"Professor!"

"You have... Only one earring!"

The girl's eyes widened as she stepped out of the door's way to let him in, her face lighting on fire, both hands going to her ear to feel the golden heart. The other was right next the cottons on the sink. And she prayed to god he didn't need to use her bathroom, because there was the whole evidence of the already evident hang over.

"It's... Yeah, it must have fell when I was sleeping... I didn't really dress up for the occasion, sorry..."

"It's okay" he brushed it off, "I was just letting you know in case it fell somewhere. You're barefoot, I wouldn't want you getting hurt with your own earring"

"Yeah, that'd be... Embarrassing"

"And painful"

She smiled politely, pointing at her small sofa to invite him to sit. He did, flopping down between the pillows in the relaxed, friendly way his whole attitude reflected. Simone stood up, feeling too awkward to be that close to him, and she would definitely be if they shared the sofa.

"So...!" the man exclaimed, clapping, making her wrinkle her nose at the noise, "I heard you're getting a master on demonology!"

She laughed, looking behind her to grab one of the chairs of the singular dining table, "And your hearing is right, because I am!"

"What got you into demonology, of all things? I thought you'd be one of mine!"

"I'm sorry to be a traitor, professor..." Five years, it's been five years since she got her English Degree and that word was still stuck on her tongue. "But you knew I was always interested in folklore, and after getting my bachelor degree..."

"Oh, don't worry!" A heartfelt laugh escaped his lips, "It's just... Isn't it scary? I never understood why we even had a course on Demonology in this University, always wondered what kind of people would want to take it..."

"And here I am"

"And here you are!"

Simone rolled her eyes, entertained. "Why are you here, professor?"

"Stop calling me professor!" Oscar exclaimed playfully, clapping his hands "You didn't read the email, did you?"

She wrinkled her nose, "I said I got it, not that I read it."

"Smart woman" the man looked at her, squinting his eyes, "We have to check the syllabus and I thought we could do it together. Besides, I wanted to judge your choices of career path..."

"Oh my god, you're such a pain" Simone shook her head, "Yeah, let's check the syllabus."

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x oc #moon knight #poe dameron #oscar isaac fic #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac fluff #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac one-shot

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nyeddleblog · 1 year

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This is what I was talking about.

This is exactly why the whole "Queer characters can only be played by queer actors" argument, or the queerbaiting celebrities argument is not only unhelpful, it is actively harmful. You are not entitled to other peoples identity. You are forcing people to come out in order to protect their careers, when they may not have wanted to share that with the world. Real people can not queerbait. Real people can not be bad representations of themselves. Do not conflate how you treat fictional characters with how you are allowed to treat real people. We can not keep having the same conversation. Forcing people to come out or else face social consequences is Bad. Always. Everytime.

In this case, Kit is literally a teenager who has been facing overwhelming amounts of online abuse for not being open about his personal identity.

Im seeing it with other queer media too. With nicholas galitzin and taylor zakhar perez in the red white & royal blue movie, people demanding that they should have been recast with "actual queer actors" despite the fact that we do not know if they are or are not queer. We can never know until they tell us that they are, which they have not.

Im also seeing it with young royals. With the new season coming out later today, the speculation on omar and edvins sexuality and relationship is incredibly harmful and toxic. They are real people, please treat them like people instead of fictional characters you can write rambling, speculating paragraphs about.

I'll say it one more time.

You are not entitled to other people's identities.

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nyeddleblog · 1 year

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Yes, tumblr, I know Shane and Ryan are poor little meow meows, you don’t have to remind me every time I open the app

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nyeddleblog · 2 years

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My Fanfics so far...!

Hello, I know I haven't uploaded much in here for a while, but I would like to share to you my upcoming projects in case you're interested. I normally use Wattpad, because it's the platform I'm most used to (I've been using it since I was eleven years old); and it's the one that gives me the tools to conceptualize my stories the way I want to.

(I know people don't really think that Fanfiction is real writing, but for me it is! And I conceptualize my whole stories, create my characters very deeply and construct a whole universe around them. You could also check my pinterest to check their respective moodboards because, being a designer, conceptualization is everything for me)

Most of these have only one or two chapters uploaded, but the whole story is settled and I only have the writing left.

Amortentia. (A Marauders Fanfiction)

A story in which a muggleborn tries to get a grasp on her surroundings and gains more reasons to fear the unknown, as well as it slowly lures her in. Settled during the Marauders era, and going from first year to the years after Hogwarts.

LIRWELL AND ANGEL'S PORT SERIES.

The Lirwell and Angel's Port series is a saga of Fanfictions intertwined, that occur inside the same universe, and mainly inside the city "Lirwell" and the town "Angel's Port". It's filled with horror and paranormal shit because that's my jam. Both cities are fictional and created by me. It has a lot of lore, so I would recommend to read them all. Coven. (A My Chemical Romance Fanfiction) A story settled in 2008. It's a paranormal college Au, in which the band sees themselves tangled with a coven of witches inside an unsettling city where everything seems to go wrong. Copycat. (An Andrew Garfield, Robert Pattinson and Tom Sturridge Fanfiction) A story settled in 2014. It's about a horror podcast and how their hosts keep defying the current serial killer in the city that keeps coming closer and closer to them. Demonia. (An Oscar Isaac Fanfiction) A story settled in the present day, where Simone and Oscar work together but she slowly submerges into paranoia when she starts studying demonology. Truth. (A Kit Harington Fanfiction) A story settled in the present day. It's about an ambitious journalist lured by the darkness that surrounds this city and a young policeman that keeps giving testimony of extraterrestrial sightings. Poltergeist. (A Tom Holland and Timothée Chalamet Fanfiction) A story settled in the present day. About a three college students living inside a haunted house, where one believes, one doesn't and the other is just tired. Unknown. (A Finn Wolfhard Fanfiction) A story settled in the present day. This story is about a girl who is new in town, discovering the marveling world surrounding her, and a boy trying to lure her into hunting cryptids with him. Blood. (A Louis Partridge Fanfiction) A story settled in the present day, where Pascal finds Louis, who disappeared a week before, and shelters him from the serial killer who kidnapped him.

Chaos. (A Marvel Fanfiction)

Gabriela Espiga is a fashion designer who doesn't know how to say no, and has to create a full set of suits for different superheroes to get their protection.

Creation. (Another Marvel Fanfiction)

In which a group of girls that should have died gains superpowers and try to create a group to help each other.

Cryptic (A Moon Knight Fanfiction)

In which Victoria Martínez is scammed and sees herself forced to share an apartment with a crappy roommate as she slowly falls in love with the neighbor next door. (Don't be fooled, it's quite dark)

I Fell In Love With a War. (An Adrian Chase Fanfiction)

In which Jolene Singh is being blackmailed by her boss but Vigilante offers to kill him; but her emotional instability surpasses her.

Watercolor Eyes. (An Edward Nashton Fanfiction)

In which Edward Nashton and Amelia Lin met each other when they were little and now she became everything he hates.

A Cure I Know. (A Battinson Fanfiction)

In which Bruce Wayne has to deal with an eleven year old girl appearing on his doorstep and calling him dad; and his PR Manager keeps bothering him about being more 'approachable'. (Based on this post)

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nyeddleblog · 2 years

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hellooo!!CONGRATULATIONS ON 500 you totally deserve it and way way way more because of the masterpieces you write!!!💖can you do an eclipse for remus with ❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜ please🙏🏼also congrats again and i hope you're having a lovely day :).

Strawberries and Blood | Remus Lupin

hiiii omg thank u so much! i loved this prompt!

summary :: remus get’s to know his neighbour without trading cupcakes and biscuits. instead it’s over tears and bloodied fingers.

warnings/tags :: fem!reader, mentions of blood, cut fingers

this ended up being longer than i thought but i kinda like it

“Can I borrow some eggs?” Was the first proper thing you’d said to your neighbour. A complete sentence that wasn’t a shy, Hello or a Thank you when he holds the door open for you at the front entrance.

“Borrow? Will I get them back?” Is what he’d said back with a laugh and it eased your nervousness.

“Well they might be cooked but you’ll get them back in the form of strawberry macarons?”

That was the beginning of a small friendship. You bake something sweet and no matter if he’d given you any ingredients or not, you’d give him half the tray of fresh baked goods. Then he’d help you in any time of need. Like if you didn’t have enough milk or needed to hide your cat during inspections.

You hadn’t anyone else to give the food to anyways. So who better than the pretty boy next door?

On one occasion, he had given you some flour without you ever asking. You were always requesting for him to tell you what to make, there were only so many times you could give him white chocolate and raspberry cookies.

He’d handed the flour to you and said, “Lamingtons?” and how could you say no to a face like that?

Your relationship only ever really stayed within those bounds though. Nothing more than trading goods on mostly rainy days. You felt lonely and the only proper human interaction you had been upholding lately was with him. It was fine. You were fine. But, you needed more.

It was late. Late enough that the moon was strung high in the sky and the only thing to be heard in your flat were the crickets and the frogs in your drainpipe. That, plus the dripping of your tap that was driving you insane. You couldn’t get it to stop and the maintenance man hadn’t shown up today like he was supposed to.

You were tired and homesick, and the relentless dripping of your rickety tap was only making everything much worse than it needed to be. You were feeling so wound up and you felt like it wouldn’t take much more to set you off.

You couldn’t sleep and thought some baking might distract you in some way. So now you were hunched over your kitchen bench, a large knife in one hand and some strawberries in the other. You slice and slice and slice until there’s only a few left. And when the water on the stove starts to bubble and whistle, it distracts you and with your eyes on the stove you slice your finger instead of the strawberry.

You flinch, swatting your hand away from the knife and knock the glass mixing bowl to your left, off the bench. It lands to the kitchen tiles with a deafening crash, and you flinch even harder as glass and thickened cream decorate the floor.

You stand there for a moment, staring at the floor. Dairy product sprayed up your front in little flecks and you regret not wearing your apron. Your socked feet are damp as you stand still, tracing the puddle of cream with you’re eyes until they blur.

You feel so overwhelmed suddenly, more than earlier, and a well of tears start accumulating in your eyes. They sting. Enough to keep you distracted from the cut on your finger and the knocking at the door.

That is until a second round of knocking and you remember yourself. You sniffle, wiping at your face with your clean hand. You think you call out a one minute! but you’re not sure. Your throat feels tight and the thought of speaking seems like an impossible task suddenly. Though turning off the bubbling water is easy before you move to the front entrance.

You don’t even think, just open the door. You’re lucky it’s only Remus. Not a burglar…who knocks. He’s standing there, clad in red pyjama bottoms and a white T-shirt. His hand raised to push his unruly curls away from his forehead. If you weren’t so wound up, you’d find it endearing.

He scans you for a moment as you do him, though he looks more shocked than you. Despite the throbbing in your hand.

“Everything okay? I heard a noise.” He says with a tired but firm tone, scratching at his cheek.

You look over your shoulder at the clock on the wall and cringe. 2:34am. You didn’t know it was that late. Well, you knew it wasn’t early. But not the middle of the night.

“Shit, I didn’t know it was that late. I’m so sorry.” You frown, turning back towards him. You breathe out, shaky and uneven, and raise a hand to your cheek, leaving a smudge of red. You can feel your hand hurting, but you’ve seemingly forgotten about the bleeding.

Then, he looks horrified, “Fuck, you’re bleeding.”

You lower your hand to look at it, and then back at Remus when he moves inside your flat. The cut isn’t bad, it’s short and shallow, but it still pains.

He looks at you, and then the mess in the kitchen. The puddle on the floor mixed with a pile of strawberries that had fallen into it. The mess a true reflection of you in that moment.

“Yeah. I was- I was baking and accidentally slipped.”

He takes your hand in his, careful not to touch the source of grievance, flipping it into his palm to inspect it. “You want some help?”

You stare at your cut, how the stream of red runs down your finger and pools in your palm. Bemused at how such a small cut could produce such a mess. Much how a dripping tap and a bleeding finger has you so upset.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Your hand. Do you need some help cleaning it up?”

He’s obviously asking because you look so unsettled. Not because he thinks you couldn’t handle it on your own. He hopes you know that.

His sudden thoughtfulness has even more tears forming in your eyes, ready to fall with one blink to replace the dried stains on your cheeks.

He looks up at you with more alert eyes than before and you can’t look at him. Embarrassed about the tiny cut and your appearance. How your current situation has you so distraught over something so minuscule.

“I’m okay.” You croak.

“You’re shaking.” He deters.

You sniffle and nod your head. You feel as though if you were to speak, it’d be too quiet. Not trusting your voice, or your battered hands to clean yourself up, you allow Remus this displeasure.

He hums, deciding to lead you to the kitchen sink with a hand splayed over your shoulder blades. Remus is very careful not to stand in the seeping cream on the floor, you on the other hand are not so much. Too distracted on blinking back tears you don’t want him to see and the burning across your back where his hand is situated. He tries to curve you around it, though your right foot steps into it with a quiet squelch.

You both cringe. “Shit. Okay I’ll help you patch up you’re finger and then I’ll clean up this mess for you.”

You think he can see how distressed you are. It makes you feel worse because you barely know why you’re so upset and neither does he, but he’s still very willing to help you out.

He guides your hand under the lukewarm water, swirls of light red flowing down the drain. You sniffle and hiccup, and Remus flinches.

“Shit, am I hurting you?” He pulls it from under the stream, fingers wrapped around your wrist.

You shake your head. “No. Sorry.”

Remus tuts before turning the tap off. “Where’s your bandaids?”

You point to the cupboard above the fridge with a dripping wet hand.

“Okay, go sit down.”

You do as he says, too tired to argue. You don’t think Remus would let you tell him to stop and he seems like he wasn’t above begging either.

Your tears have stopped and you’re eternally thankful to your eyes. Despite the fact your nose is still runny and your hands are shaking. Crying in front of your cute neighbour is nothing you’d hoped you’d do at any time.

He kneels in front of you after grabbing a few small bandaids. His front pressing into your knees as he flips your hand onto the table.

“What were you doing anyways?” He asks, looking between you and your hand as he peels open the packaging.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mumble, wriggling your free fingers that are starting to prick with pins and needles. Remus’s attentive touch making you feel funny.

“Strawberry cheesecakes are a good cure for insomnia?” He chuckles, wrapping the sticky cotton around your finger with too much care. He’s lovely, you think.

You laugh too. Much quieter than him, but it makes Remus’s chest fill with warmth.

Once he’s done making sure your hand is okay, smoothing and prodding, he says, “Seriously though. Are you okay?”

You don’t know how to respond. You swallow instead of speaking, throat dry and thick. Remus doesn’t seem the impatient type as he kneels at your knees, raising a hand to squeeze reassuringly at your thigh. A boy who checks in when he hears a loud noise in the middle of the night, and sits and cleans up your injury, doesn’t seem like a boy who would judge. He seems like one who is very trusting.

“Do you like me, Remus?”

He startles for a split second and you backtrack, “As a person. I know we’re only really neighbours, but you like me?”

If you only knew, Remus thinks. “Of course I do, doll.”

You avert your gaze to floor, deciding to count your black tiles instead of continuing. You trace up, up and up until you’re met with your mess. A cruel reminder of your stupidity and then, Remus’s kindness.

“I think you’re the only person who does.” You admit through an animated voice, tone wavering.

Remus squeezes again, using his thumb to trace circles under your thigh, below your knee. “That can’t be true.”

“It feels that way.” You sigh. You feel so open and bare in the middle of your small dining room, admitting your troubles to a boy you want to like you. It makes your breath stutter and your skin tingle under his heavy, but caring gaze.

“Why?” Not once tonight have you thought that Remus’s questions and actions have been insincere. Maybe that’s why you continue to speak.

“I feel overwhelming lonely. All the time.” You palm at your eyes with a roughness that has Remus frowning. He hopes you’re taking care of yourself. He also hopes that when he takes your hands from your reddened eyes, that you can tell he’ll be there for you if you’re struggling to.

When Remus settles your joined hands in your lap, you continue again, “You know you’re the only person I’ve had any interaction with since I moved in?”

A rhetorical question, obviously. Because no, Remus didn’t know that. If he did, he’d of made more of an effort when he saw you. He’d do more than just thanking you for a tray of blondie’s. He would’ve invited you inside his flat if he knew you were feeling this way.

Because he had been meaning to. But every time he opened his mouth to say something like, Wanna watch a movie? Or, Want to use my kitchen this time? He’d choke on his tongue and shy away, always. Admittedly, you made him very nervous. With your pretty eyes and blinding shy smile. Even with flour on your cheek and icing in your hair, he still found you outrageously beautiful.

“I’m struggling to make friends at uni and at work, and it’s making me feel so shit about myself. I miss home all the time and it just makes everything worse.” You sigh, deflating in your chair at your final admission. You hope you haven’t scared him away. Though, his ministrations and soothing touches against your skin only soften.

“Hey, whenever you’re feeling this way. If you need to talk or just sit. I’m right across the hall.” You finally look up at him, his gaze against your face that hasn’t faltered all night is soft and caring, and you almost melt.

“I don’t want to be an annoyance, Remus.”

“You would never. I’m very willing to talk about anything with you, dove.” He smiles warmly. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? Ever.”

You have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying again. He really was the best person you’d ever met. “Thank you, Remus. Really, I mean it.”

Remus seemingly thinks for a moment, “Hey, my friends are having a get together this weekend, why don’t you come?”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Remus shakes his head, “No, you wouldn’t be. They’ll love you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I do. They’re my friends and if I like you, they will.” He admits.

You redden. Who knew he was such a flirt? “Okay. Sure, sounds good.”

He smiles, “Awesome. Sirius has been wanting to meet my pretty neighbour for ages.”

“You’ve told your friends about me?” You laugh, the thought of tears now long gone.

“They kept asking me about the cakes in my kitchen and they didn’t believe me when I said made them.”

You snort, “You can’t cook?”

“Why do you think I keep coming back for more? No one bakes a red velvet cake like you do.”

You reach up and brush a stray curl away from his face, tucking it behind his ear, scratching the skin there gently. “You’re too kind, Remus.”

When you smile properly for the first time that night, red cheeks creasing and reaching your eyes that are brighter than the moonlight spewing through your shutters, Remus curses himself for not getting to know you better, earlier. There was life before you moved in and then there was now. And he considered it to be ten times better now that you’re next door.

Remus stands and outstretches his hand in front of him. You look up and take it willingly and he pulls you up, now almost chest to chest with each other. It’s now Remus’s turn to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“Maybe I won’t introduce you to my friends. Keep you locked away, all to myself.” He smiles and you do too.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Sirius will only try to seduce you and we can’t have that.” He chuckles and his breath fans over your cheeks. Remus grins when you shiver.

“I’m sure he’s got nothing on you.”

When Remus places a very gentle kiss to your cheek, his thumb pressing into your warming skin as you beam, you’re very grateful the maintenance man hadn’t shown up like he was supposed to.

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