(almost) always pure

young Remus J. Lupin 

reference: x

Send ☔ for our muses to share an umbrella on a rainy day.

Send 📱 for my muse to send yours a random text.

Send 📞 for my muse to call yours.

Send ✞ for our muses to meet in an empty church.

Send ⚔ to challenge my muse to a duel.

Send 😢 for my muse to comfort you.

Send 🌸 to receive flowers from my muse.

Send ☁ for our muses to watch the clouds together.

Send ⌚ to ask my muse what time it is.

Send ℃ for my muse to discuss the temperature with yours.

Send 👻 to tell ghost stories with my muse.

Send 🐩 to play with my muse’s pet (or have my muse play with yours).

Send 😘 to see my muse’s reaction to yours flirting with them.

Send 💅 to do my muse’s nails.

Send 🐎 for our muses to go horse riding together.

Send 📺 for our muses to have a TV/movie night.

Send 🍸 for our muses to have a drink together.

Send 💪 for our muses to workout together.

Send 💤 to wake my muse up from their nap.

Send 🍔 for our muses to have lunch together.

Send 💢 for my muse to get mad at yours for something they did.

Send 😓 for my muse to apologize to yours for something they did.

Send 💖 for my muse to tell yours who they currently have a crush on.

Send 💘 for my muse to ask yours who they have a crush on.

Send 💋 to randomly kiss my muse.

Send 🎃 to carve pumpkins with my muse.

as requested by anon. note: some of these work better if one of the muses is pushed up against a wall

Angry

“Make me.”

“I dare you.”

“Bite me.”

“You think you can just run that pretty mouth of yours whenever you want?!”

“Wanna bet?”

“If you complain that it’s hot one more time, I’m going to give you a reason to sweat.”

“Prove it.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“If you bite your lip one more time, I’m going to do it for you.”

“Oh, well fuck me, then.”

“Shut up!”

“Yell at me again, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream.”

Flirty

“I wish we weren’t out in public…”

“Wow, you’re really strong.”

“Wanna go for a ride?”

“You sure can’t keep your hands to yourself…”

“Ah, I think I need a new bed.”

“Can you help me with my tie?” / “Can you zip up my dress for me?”

“You have really nice fingers…”

“Are we going downtown?”

“You should come by my place…I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“That outfit looks good on you. But, you’d also look good without the outfit.”

“What do you wear to bed?”

Awkward

“Do you have to eat it like that?”

“Uhm–t-those shorts look tight–”

“Hey, stop biting your lip…”

“Wha–is that a banana in your pocket?”

“You’re standing a little close to me…”

“Hey–you’ve got a little something on your face–”

“My keys are in my pocket. Can you get them for me?”

“Help me find the D? I mean, the variable–i-it’s math…”

“I just wanna grab your bu–hand. Grab your hand.”

Send ❤️ if you ship our muses romantically. Send 💋 if you ship our muses sexually. Send 💀 if you ship our muses toxically. Send 🙊 if you ship our muses platonically. Send 👿 if you hate ship our muses. Send ✌ if you poly ship ours muses with another.

@misselectrablack (hey lovely, thanks for the ask!!)

“Oh I’m telling everyone,” he laughed, blocking her exit. “I have to brag about this at least once. You should know how big my mouth is by now.”

Loathe to relinquish her grip on her wand, and thus any semblance of control that she had over him, she released his chin from her grasp and dropped her hand to the belt of her coat instead. “Oh, baby …” she said, undoing it. “… I highly doubt that.” The coat, white and elegant and exquisitely tailored, remained on. Her voice, which had been high and breathy as she pretended to give into him, returned to normal. 

“You see, your brother is far more … competent … than you give him credit for. He makes me feel all kinds of things, whereas I am starting to suspect that you are all talk.”

“My brother is a complete sod who has no appreciation for what’s right in front of him and clearly is incapable of completely satisfying a beautiful woman in need. That, my lovely, is where I step in.” He bit his lower lip, fully intending to keep his promises and rise far beyond Electra’s expectations. 

Heedless of the wand tip still stuck at his jugular, he had seized her around the waist and shoved her none too gently back, onto the bed. Her wand fell from her hand, emitting green sparks as it clattered to the floor, but she did not even appear to notice. 

He didn’t even notice the pressure of her wand against his throat disappearing, no. His mind was focused solely on her. On her words. Her mouth. Her eyes. Her body. Every inch of skin that touched hers. He had to make this as good for himself as he did for her, obviously, and he was definitely enjoying himself already.

Too late, Electra realised what was happening. His hand was wrapped around the back of her neck in anticipation of another deep and drawn-out kiss, but she, wary of spooking him, had already drawn herself away. His lips were then at her ear, his breath hot and heavy as he rasped those unfamiliar lines of Shakespeare against her skin. 

A shiver ran along her spine. Remus’s touch was electrifying, every synapse in her body fired off a spark when his hand brushed so carelessly through her hair on its way to letting her go. Slight air and purging fire. “What- What is that anyway? What is it from?” But by the time her mind had coordinated with her mouth, and her mouth with her tongue (both of which were only focused upon one thing: kissing him again), he had vanished, hastening from the library as if there was something demonic hot on his heels. 

And perhaps, she mused idly over the next couple days - her mind full of as much poetry as potions - there had been. And perhaps that something was her. He was certainly going out of his way to avoid her, switching seats in Professor Babbling’s class, the only one that they shared apart from the rest of his friends; he didn’t appear in the library all week; and, when they were forced to pass each other in the corridors, he kept his head down and his elbows tucked in, like he was afraid of making any kind of contact with her. If it had not made her insides squeeze so painfully, she probably would have found this funny. But, as it was, she kept her own eyes averted and her expectations low … 

Until the following Sunday, that was, when she caught sight of him alone at the bottom of the stone staircase in the Entrance Hall, ostensibly tying his shoelaces. That the rest of those self-proclaimed Marauders were nowhere to be seen was suspicious in itself, as they all seemed to travel as a foursome wherever they went, but the fact that his shoelace had not actually been undone in the first place was what alerted Electra to the notion that perhaps he was waiting for someone. Waiting for … her? They had not spoken in over a week, but she was the only person to have just come from the Great Hall, having eaten supper by herself at the Slytherin table, and he was still crouching there, face hidden, his fingers lingering somewhere around his ankles. 

“Need a hand down there?” As she spoke, she brushed her hand lightly over the back of his shoulder, wanting to let him know that she was behind him without giving him further cause to bolt. “I’ve been watching you, you see, and you’ve been hovering like this for a little while now. Perhaps you are having some trouble?” Her tone was low and rich, a hint of laughter hiding just out of sight of these words. She gave his shoulder a brief squeeze and, the moment that her fingers tightened, there was the sound of a great commotion up on the landing above their heads. 

“Get your claws out of my friend, you little harpy.” Sirius’s voice, booming in its fury, rang out across the hall - but, although his sister’s head snapped up at the interruption, she nevertheless ignored his instruction. 

“Oh, dear brother, I would,” she replied sweetly, not letting go. “I really, really would -  if only they were sunk into him against his will.”

The next week was miserable for Remus. Despite keeping such a large secret his entire life, lying didn’t come easily to him. He felt pressure building to confess to Sirius what had happened with Electra. In some way, he felt his friend’s reaction to the situation would tell him what he should do. During his spare moments, which he made sure to make fewer and farther between than usual for fear his brain might overload, he read his book of sonnets and considered the lessons of the Bard regarding love and desire. Ultimately, he couldn’t stop thinking about her and their brief kisses in the library. Untold depths were hidden in the fire of her eyes and he missed her. He could just be her friend as long as he was at least that. He felt Sirius should know though, even if nothing else was going to happen romantically with Electra. 

He resigned himself to catch her in the hallway after dinner to explain his thinking. His heart was pounding as he lingered outside of the Great Hall. As soon as he saw her, he wanted to bolt. Instead, he ducked down like he needed to tie his shoe–which was firmly double-knotted. His face heated as she approached him and saw right through him. Her touch made him forget the past week, her perfume floating by his shoulder as he raised his hand to rest on hers, holding it against him. “We need to talk soon,” he murmured but it was drowned out by the arrival of the one person who could entirely ruin his resolve to figure this out. 

Remus shot up and out of Electra’s grasp like a spring at the sound of Sirius, dramatically announcing his presence on the stairwell. His mouth fell open in horror as the exchange unfolded–she had to say something now? 

Sirius’ brow furrowed, his eyes flickering to Remus who simply bowed his head. “What? It can’t be–” He looked off into the distance and Remus could practically see the gears grinding in his mind as he started to put things together. “Behind my back, with her! I thought you had some taste,” he said, his voice light and serious in a single stroke. It was a tone that Remus recognized well, one that meant Sirius couldn’t even bear to show how hurt he was. 

“We’re friends; talking about Ancient Runes work you know,” Remus rushed to explain. He could feel Electra’s eyes on him as he lied through his teeth. “And you know, we didn’t want you to take things personally.”

She had not gone but five or six steps, however, when she stopped again and stooped, as if she was picking something up off the floor. “Does this belong to either of you?” A battered, leather-bound book was held aloft for their inspection. Picked out on the spine in a faded gold thread were the words, William Shakespeare, Sonnets. “You know, I actually think I saw this in your bag the other day, Lupin. You must have dropped it coming out of the Great Hall. Here.” She handed it to him, the lazy droop of her wrist so careless and yet so carefully engineered, to make it seem as if this very action was beneath her. Remus’s fingers bumped up against hers as he reached out to take it, and she felt again again that familiar spark of electricity between them, that strange swooping sensation somewhere near her navel. “No wonder all your things look so tattered, if you don’t take better care of them that that.” 

Later, as she lay in bed, staring up at the hangings, she wondered whether it had been too cruel of her to add this last. Cruel, or necessary? Only too aware of the blood rushing to her cheeks, she had had to say something to deflect Sirius’s suspicions, and she hadn’t had a lot of time. Remus, surely, would forgive her - he would not take it to heart, he would ... understand? 

And hopefully he would understand the message she had left for him in her book of sonnets too. The words altered in her own hand to tell him where and when to meet her next. It was a rather complex code - those were something of a speciality of hers, and besides, constructing it had proved to be a welcome distraction from her thoughts over the past week - but he was a bright boy and he knew those sonnets far better than she did, he would see that they did not now read as the Bard had once written them. He would see, wouldn’t he, and he would understand? 

Sit up straight- it might be a power asserting thing, it might just be a natural habit but I think Slytherins tend to have good posture

Be very selective- it’s not that they’re trying to be mean but if you don’t reach a standard that they have for people they just won’t be friends with you

Let sarcastic comments slip everywhere- to your friends, heck yeah. To your parents? Mostly when it’s all fun and games or maybe when they’rein a heated argument

Know where all your weak spots are- Slytherins are very observant and can usually figure out another person’s insecurities and weaknesses quickly. What they do with it is up to them

Tend to like privacy- I’m not saying all Slytherins are introverts but Slytherins definitely aren’t all about sharing their secrets with everyone

Subconsciously get really competitive- it doesn’t have to be in sports and anything all up in your face (though sometimes it really can be) but all Slytherins strive to be the best in what they like to do

FInd interest in deep mysterious things- inside every Slytherin I think there’s some Ravenclaw who’s really confused and just wants to read quotes all day. Slytherins tend to like things that have poetic meaning or relatability to them like the ocean, fog, cats, gothic architecture, and quotes that accurately describe their emotions

Always have a ton of blankets- maybe it’s a cold-blooded thing, maybe it’s the fact that the Slytherin common room is freezing and that’s what my mind carries with me but Slytherins tend to burrito themselves in blankets, always making sure to cover their feet completely and try to figure out how to get their hands underneath and still do whatever they’re doing