#non magical AU

[stazvlt]

Drarry Compilations

I'm planning to draw several of non-magical au!drarry based on some popular trope :)) For day one Draco worked as a Traveling Photographer and His forever amused Assistant/Husband. The Shenanigans they got into while trying to get that one perfect picture tm is legendary.

For Day two the famous CEO businessman Draco spending time with his Farmer Husband Harry. Just imagine Draco got lost in some countryside, his car broke down, no phone signal at all and suddenly there's a very handsome farmer helping him... maybe the country life isn't so bad anymore in Draco's eyes.

And have an extra comic where the Heir to the honored house of Malfoy tried to buy a movie ticket. Anyway what do you think?? Do you have any favorite non magical au Drarry since i want to draw more of those :)

[mccallw]

wolfstar micro fic January 05 & 06 - queen & bond

Oh, Remus is so fucked. So, so fucked.

What was he thinking, inviting Sirius to a Queen concert? That it’d be a great opportunity to bond? I mean– sure, but not when Sirius shows up with a crop top, eyeliner and starry eyes.

He hasn’t been able to focus on the concert at all. Just Sirius. On how excited he is, his radiant smile, the way he sings every song at the top of his lungs, the way he dances, grabbing Remus hands and making him dance with him and laughing, loud and jovious, the way the heat has made him put his long hair in a bun, how the sweat has made little hairs stick to his forehead, everything, everything Sirius.

This might be the one and only time Remus watches Queen live, and he can only stare at this lovely boy he invited with him to this concert. Who would’ve thought, that someone he met randomly one day at a coffee shop, would invoke such intense feelings on him, so suddenly?

He’s doomed but he does not care, not when ‘Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy’ starts playing, and Sirius gasps and sings looking at him, eyes bright and locked on him.

He definitely does not care when he pulls Sirius by his wrists and cups his face with both of his hands, thumb stroking red-tinted, warm, soft, cute cheeks. He feels Sirius breath hitch, but their eyes never leave each other. It’s a silent question, and even with the loud music blasting through the arena and the loud screams of the crowd ringing in their ears, nothing else matters but this moment.

A silent question that Sirius answers by tilting his head just slightly up, nudging his nose with Remus’ and closing his eyes delicately. A small, hot, breathy “yes” is whispered against his lips and Remus does not care, and so he closes the gap between them.

It’s a sweet kiss. Short, slow, sweaty, innocent. It’s lovely. It’s probably the one and only time Remus will be at a Queen concert, and he does not care that he hasn't paid any mind to it.

All there is, is Sirius.

--

@wolfstarmicrofic

--

yesterday i didn't have time to write, so i merged the prompt from yesterday with the one for today to make up for it :)

[c0nsumemy5oul]

You Know How Scared I Am Of Elevators

James and Regulus get stuck in an elevator, chaos ensues.

“Do you live in the building?”  “Uhm,” James turned to Regulus.  “I do.” Regulus answered, “He’s a visitor.”  “Who are you visiting?” They asked like they were filling a form. Were those questions really necessary?  “Me.” Regulus answered when James had taken a little too long. “He’s visiting my apartment.”  “Oh!” James could sense them turning suddenly sheepish. “Well, I’d like to remind you both that this elevator is equipped with a camera.”  James was confused for the purpose of the reminder, but seeing Regulus’ mostly hidden red face, he could discern the meaning.  “Oh, no! We’re not—! I mean, not that I wouldn’t like to, it’s just—”  “Potter.” Regulus interrupted.  “Yes?”  “Shut up.”  “Right.” 

Have fun reading :3

[wenclairanthology]

Chapters: 15/15 Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Wednesday Addams & Enid Sinclair Characters: Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair, Pugsley Addams, Larissa Weems, Eugene Ottinger, Bianca Barclay, Ajax Petropolus, Yoko Tanaka, Xavier Thorpe, Valerie Kinbott, Marilyn Thornhill | Laurel Gates, Gomez Addams, Morticia Addams, Tyler Galpin Additional Tags: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Alternate Universe - High School, Senior year, introducing: nevermore drama department, academic nerd wednesday, theater star enid, Color Theory, Symbolism?, Slow Build, cute moments, slow realizations, First Kiss, Fluff and Humor, principal weems OBVIOUSLY, Pride and Prejudice References, That's right, you shall see, High School Theater, Graduation, a taste of summer, Nostalgia, ajax's entire existence is a joke and i love it Summary:

Wednesday Addams has three months until she abandons Nevermore High for good.

Enid Sinclair's slipping grades and theater-focused mind pose as a roadblock to this escape.

 or, academic wednesday has to tutor unfocused enid & mayhem proceeds

[ivedonemywaiting]

hello lovelies! New Chapter of my Modern, Non-Magic Wolfstar AU, Love Must Clean House is up!

“Thank you,” Remus murmurs into Sirius’ neck. “You’re so incredibly thoughtful, and kind.”

Sirius squirms. “I’m not, really - “

Remus tightens his hold. “You are. If I say so, it’s true. Now my body is very tired of standing and I’d like some cuddles, if you’d be amenable?”

Sirius is very amenable, and as Remus takes another dose, leaning back into Sirius’ chest and wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist, mumbling interjections as Sirius reads aloud from a well-worn copy of The Hobbit , as they share a bowl of spaghetti in bed, before falling asleep like that, wrapped around each other, Remus clutching onto Sirius as if they’re something precious, Sirius lies awake with one thought circling in his brain.

I’m completely and utterly in love with Remus Lupin.

And fuck, if that isn’t the most terrifying, exhilarating, beautiful feeling.

Another chapter of Long Lost and Left Wanting coming soon as well xx

[nauticalparamour]

Chapter Nine

He led her through the warehouse, out to where his car was waiting and Hermione slipped into the passenger's seat without question. She wondered where they were going exactly and her curiosity got the better of her. "Where are we going, anyway?" she asked.

"I had an idea about laundering money," he said, with a smirk.

"Hey, that's my job," Hermione answered with a laugh. "Although, you know that I won't be here forever. So, it's good that you start thinking of ways to continue to clean your money flow. I doubt that you are going to stop with what you have in your warehouse."

[FFN] [AO3]

[caffeineandaishwarya]

hey there, i was thinking of writing something tomarry and i did get a WIP. so here it is ( beware that its my first time writing for the ship; mostly i just read):

Harry Potter merely observes his neighbourhood.

as a 21 year old with no career options 'appealing' to him, and hence is jobless, he observes the neighborhood he lives in.

And it's not like he's currently broke right now, as his parents left him a whopping amount of money and a medium sized house (enough big for him) before they died.

so really, he's got nothing to fret about.

so he resigns to only 'observe' his neighbourhood.

and in doing so, he thinks (quite naively) that every household is bland and normal.

Even the Riddles too. The single father and his lovely daughter who managed to catch every lady (and Harry) into giving her sweets for her politeness yet her mischievous ways.

Oh, how wrong he was.

So, very wrong.

i may or may not write it, just a fleeting thought tbh🤔🤔

[ao3-fanfic-rec]

Unsinkable by juvenilia, speechwriter

Fandom: Harry Potter

He: a young man long since raised from poverty, now on the verge of inheriting a magnate's business in the 1910s. She: an impoverished young woman on her way to start a new life in America.

In short: Tom Marvolo Riddle, Hermione Jean Granger, and one voyage on the RMS Titanic—and how it would change their lives forever.

Hermione Granger x Tom Riddle, <50k words, Alternate Universe - Historical, Corporate Espionage, RMS Titanic, No magic

Completed

Thoughts: A Tomione that takes place on the Titanic, with a hero / villain AND redemption arc for Tom. Sign me up.

[sayingyournames]

crush - boot theory- sirius black/remus lupin

5,000~ words/hopeful angst, light mention of homophobia

read on ao3 here

or read on Tumblr below the cut. notes at the end.

Non-Magical AU. If this is what it is to let someone in, Sirius wonders, then he has no idea how people manage it on a day-to-day basis. It’s completely devouring, it’s eating Sirius up from the inside out and no, he doesn’t want it to stop. 

@wolfstarmicrofic - 11/16 - brilliant mistake

______________

Sirius is jostled by the movement of train over track, the muscles in his thighs shaking with the force of it. He places his hands on his knees, palms up, and watches the lines stretching across them blur in the motion. This isn’t how eighteen years old is supposed to feel, as if his shoulders are waiting to crack and splinter, tear along the seams of him. 

He pulls the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands, fiddles with a loose thread. His clothes still hold the distinct musty smell of a home where there were no candles burned, no meals cooked, no flowers planted in the spacious yard. Accelerated classes during his final year at the best private school his financially-uninhibited parents could afford and years of saved money from holidays and birthdays have led him here, seated on a train going fast enough for the trees to turn into slick oil paintings as they pass, racing away from all he has ever known. 

Sirus is sitting on the small bed in his suite, taking deep breaths. Fear is a wolf that paces inside him, curls up around his family’s disappointment, trying to dig underneath it to fresh soil. He imagines the lights of Paris leading him in like a moth to a flame and closes his eyes, turning his hands to smooth clammy palms along his jeans.

----------

Two hours into the trip Sirius moves from his suite to try and eat. His stomach feels stretched out and too tight all at once, turning at the idea of food. It feels like something an adult should do, though, eating because he needs to and moving out of his solitary car to try and face the world. Or in his case, the one other person sitting in the dining car, picking at a salad and staring out the window. It’s a boy who looks amazingly well put-together, immaculate from the soft curls of his hair to the soft hinge of jaw that Sirius can just make out in the horrible lighting. He can’t be much older than Sirius himself, sharp around the edges in his sweater with too-long sleeves. Sirius stares at him, wondering and curious and wanting to reach out and press a hand against the boy’s shoulder, try and turn up the edges of him. If there’s one thing in life that Sirius understands it’s how it feels to be paper-thin, stretched out across waves of others’ disappointment or expectations. 

This boy, Sirius knows, can tell from the slump of his shoulders, is running from something in the same way that Sirius is running towards this new thing, new place, new life. Sirius picks a seat a few booths back from the boy and waves for a stewardess, ordering a glass of water and a small salad. He keeps his eyes on the boy ahead of him and watches how his head tilts just so when Sirius laughs a little too loud and denies the stewardess as she asks if he wants a beer. 

Maybe they’re going to the same place; Sirius wonders and waits for his food, tapping restless fingers against the cool table. 

He wants to press a hand on the boy’s shoulder but paper can cut as well as anything, and Sirius isn’t looking to get sliced open anymore. 

----------

The salad is disgusting. It seems to be constructed of wilted lettuce and too-soft spinach, stale croutons surrounding the edge of its bowl in a meager attempt at garnishment. Sirius can understand the other boy’s lack of desire in eating it. Sirius’s fork is dull with scratches and detergent residue, and he’s twirling it between his fingers when it slips from his grip and clatters down to the table, startling the boy ahead of him into turning around. 

“Clumsy?” he calls, standing gracefully to settle himself into the booth in front Sirius, leaning on the divider. The boy rests his chin over thin, crossed arms, and looks at him, one eyebrow arched delicately above a cloudy brown eye. 

His eyelashes are dark and inviting, fanned out against the pale expanse of his cheeks. Up close, freckles scatter across his face like stars. Sirius takes him in up close and his edges don’t seem nearly as sharp. He doesn’t look dangerous at all and Sirius is doing it again, giving up too soon on guarding himself because the hopeful side of him is fighting its way out once more. Sirius feels tilted, restless and uneven and he isn’t supposed to be like this, isn’t made for meeting curious boys who look at him as if waiting for the punchline to a joke he isn’t being let in on. 

“Very. I’m sorry, uh, for the noise,” Sirius stutters. The words clatter around his teeth and he knows how ridiculous he sounds by the way the boy lets his head fall slightly to the left and continues to stare. 

“I’m Sirius. Sirius Black,” he says, because he has nothing else to offer anyone but his name. 

The boy’s gaze seems to soften just slightly, but it’s gone between one blink and the next and he says, “Ah, like the star. It’s okay, you know. About the noise. I keep forgetting there are other people on this thing.” If he recognizes the name he doesn’t show it. 

Sirius doesn’t know what to say, so he keeps his mouth shut and stares at the boy with what he hopes will come across as an inviting expression. It must work because the guy keeps talking. 

“You know whenever I used to see trains on TV or whatever the first thing I thought about was the conductor, and how lonely he must be all by himself in the front of the train.” He pauses for a moment and turns to look out the window once more. Sirius’ eyes follows the tendons of the boy’s throat as he begins to speak again. “But now that I’m actually on a train it’s so easy to imagine that there is no conductor and I’m chugging this thing along by sheer force of will.” 

Remus’ voice is melodic, soft vowels and round consonants. Sirus wants to ask where he’s from, wants to ask about every second of his life thus far – but can’t make the words come out. 

“I am the captain of my fate, and all that,” Sirius jokes instead, shrugging slightly. 

Remus tilts his head a little and he stares at Sirius. The gaze feels encouraging but heavy enough that Sirius leans back a little from the force of it, blinking quickly. 

“You’d think it would be easier to captain your own heart.” Remus hums the words as if testing out a melody, soft and wavering with uncertainty. 

“Well,” Sirius starts to answer, taking in the stern lift of the boy’s eyes and wondering wildly if this is some sort of test, “like most things poets tell us, it’s easier said than done.” 

A smile blooms on boy’s face, lighting up his murky eyes like the sun coming out and Sirius thinks that there is nothing in the whole world that’s quite as beautiful as the honesty of a smile like that. 

“I’m Remus Lupin,” the boy says, tilting his chin up as if preparing himself for the upward swing of Sirius’s rejection. 

Sirius has spent his entire life with his head high, stubbornly searching for the best in people against his own better judgment. He can see the strain of Remus’s muscles as he waits for Sirius to send something sharp his way and Sirius knows, then, that he has nothing on Remus when it comes to being guarded. But Sirius knows how it feels to be stripped down and cut open, leaving yourself at the full mercy of a perfect stranger. The urge to pull Remus close rises in Sirius and pushes him to lean forward and offer his hand. 

“Remus. It’s so nice to meet you.” 

Remus stares at Sirius’s hand, searching it for insincerity, waiting for the joke. After a moment he physically deflates as his walls retreat by the slightest margin, drooping down but letting a smile steal back along his features and places one soft, cool hand in Sirius’s. 

----------

“I’m not a runaway, you know. I’m 18.” 

Remus was now sitting in Sirius’ booth, across from him. The sun has gone down and Sirius hears Remus’ quiet statement as an afterthought; his focus has been centered on the trees passing by the window, too afraid of being caught staring. Sirius rests his cheek against the cold glass and looks at Remus, unimpressed. 

“Good. The last thing I need is a frantic mother chasing me down for helping her son leave the nest.” 

Something in Remus’s defiant expression shifts and there’s a coolness in his eyes that has nothing to do with the overly air-conditioned train car. 

“I don’t have one. A mother,” Remus says, as if he’s telling Sirius that the sky is blue or water is wet; as if it’s a simple fact of life that he has no say in, no discernible emotion towards, one way or the other. The monotone of his voice makes Sirius uncomfortable. He’s so used to silence or yells or songs as a means to get a point across, and a complete lack of emotion isn’t a creature that Sirius has any experience with. 

“Oh,” is the only answer he can give. Remus has a solitary eyebrow raised once more, cutting through the pale skin of his face like a carefully planned brushstroke and Sirius knows that sympathy isn’t what Remus wants from him. 

“University is supposed to be the best years of your life, right?” Remus starts, leaning forward against the back of his seat to rest his elbows atop of it and fix his gaze on Sirius, “And so you show up on the first day of your first year and expect to feel different. To feel like whatever hell you went through up until this point was worth it. I mean, you really believe that things can’t possibly get any worse and there has to be nowhere left to go but up.” 

Sirius isn’t sure that he’s supposed to respond to that, as it seems that giving Remus the floor to speak is like puncturing a tire, a steady stream of air and noise that only gets faster as it runs out. Besides that, Sirius doesn’t want to tell Remus that University actually is like that for most people. He doesn’t want to suggest that it might just be some kind of fate, two of the unlucky ones ending up together on the same train. 

“But then I go to classes and lectures and I turn into this person that I don’t even recognize when I look in the mirror. I see the same friends make the same mistakes and listen to them complain about every boy and girl in the school, and let them lean on my shoulder and cry even though their chins are pressing right into a fresh bruise from being kicked into a locker for wanting everything they take for granted.” 

Remus pauses and leans forward over the table and into Sirius’s space, eyes wide and frantic in their sincerity. 

“So I left,” he says, letting the phrase hang between them for a long moment before sagging back down and laughing as if he can’t quite believe it himself, “I dropped out. I left my dad a note and emptied my bank account and here I am, telling things to you that my closest friends don’t know about.” 

“If they knew, they wouldn’t blame you, Remus,” Sirius says gently, as if trying to coax a shy animal to eat out of his palm. Which he is, in some ways, his empathy held out like an offering. 

“I’m so selfish, Sirius.” Remus’s voice cracks the name in half, and suddenly Sirius is standing on legs tired from being immobile for so long and sliding into Remus’ side of the booth, pressing almost close enough to touch. 

“You are, but not for the reasons you’re probably beating yourself up for right now.” Remus sniffs, a loud wet sound, and Sirius just keeps talking, “It’s selfish to not tell your friends and to deny them the opportunity to help you. But Remus, self preservation is a skill that takes a whole life to learn and I know it’s not something you can just turn off.” 

Sirius holds out a hand, palm up on between them and Remus ignores it, folding himself almost in half to curl around his body instead. 

Sirius feels on fire everywhere that they’re touching, Remus’ warm face pressed right against his chest. A stewardess walks back into the car to gather dishes and Sirius is expecting Remus to push himself up and away, to let the distance settle back between them. 

“I don’t let anyone touch me,” Remus whispers, holding on tight to the front of Sirius’s shirt, “I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to hold onto someone.” 

Sirius knows he isn’t just talking about the way their bodies are touching and it’s too much, the trust Remus is giving him. Sirius takes good things and he breaks them. He’s broken his own knuckles fighting away demons, his father’s trust and his mother’s heart. Remus is solid and warm against his chest, but there is something breakable under his skin. 

“Do you have your own car?” Sirius asks. 

Remus shakes his head and the motion sends his soft curls skirting against the underside of Sirius’s chin, the ghost of a touch. 

“Can you, uh, would you like to stay with me? I have a suite.” Sirius holds his breath, waits. 

Slowly, smooth as a cat stretching after a long nap, Remus sits and looks at Sirius, searching. 

“Yes.” 

----------

Things are different once Sirius has Remus tucked by his side, sitting together in his suite. 

Remus’ hand is resting on Sirius’ knee, warm and unassuming in the dim moonlight. Sirius hasn’t even bothered to turn on the lamps in his suite yet, a small room that leads off the normal train car. It has sliding doors and uncomfortable seats that face each other just like any normal train, but with an extra set of doors that opens to a room with a small bed and a large round window. 

They made a stop on the way to grab Remus’ luggage from the car he shared with an older woman, an unspoken agreement that he would be spending the final few hours of the trip with Sirius. 

Sirius looks at Remus, sitting close enough together on the bed for their thighs to be pressed up against one another and tilts his head up. Leaning forward, bracing one hand on the bed by Remus’s hip, Sirius is all but begging Remus to kiss him. The thought of it makes him want to crawl into his own skin, press Remus’s luggage back into his own hands and send him back down the corridor to his own car. He shouldn’t want this. Sirius has always poured himself into molds others have set out for him, knowing full well that he is only clay wishing for a good potter’s hands to shape him into something beautiful; an elegant vase, a swirl of vines with intricate leaves, their veins painstakingly etched out, one by one. 

“The moon is watching us,” Remus whispers, turning his own face up to catch the light. 

Sirius had opened the shutters to watch the trees as nerves tried to get the best of him that morning, and now he marvels at the moonlight splattered against his bed and walls. He holds his arms outstretched and watches the light ripple across his skin, mottled and indistinct as it passes through the trees outside to fall upon his hands. 

“A raven’s-eye moon,” Sirius says, looking up to guess at its shape from the short glimpses of it through gaps in the woods. 

Remus looks at him, then. His face shows nothing, bathed in moonlight and glowing bright as a star in the darkness.

He brushes a soft hand down Sirius’s cheek, speaks gently to him as if whispering a lullaby. “It’s a traitor’s moon.” 

---------- 

Later, they undress each other. 

They’re lying on the bed now, touching just enough to remove each other’s pants and shirts, kicking off their own underwear and socks. Their eyes meet in the low light and Sirius is suddenly restless, itching to run away. There’s a burn in him, an ache under his skin as he settles himself over Remus’ warm body. Remus’ fingers grip around Sirius’ forearms and then slide up to wrap around his shoulders. At each point that fingertips press into warm skin, Sirius swears he can feel something trying to push out of it, a feather bursting out into the night. Their chests almost touching, hands on him like brands, searing him in swirls and dips around the curves of his skin. 

He hopes they scar. 

He hopes that in the morning he can look at himself in the mirror and see the patterns of Remus’ touch, remember how it felt to have him warm and willing and his, if only for a night. 

“You don’t let people touch you,” Sirius says, only a breath of space keeping his lips from grazing Remus’ clavicle. The bones are pressed up tight under Remus’ skin, proud and firm. Sirius wants to run his fingertips over them and feel their dips and curves.

“No,” Remus answers, lifting his arms to frame his head in a fractured halo, “But you aren’t other people.”

That makes Sirius pause, sit up from where he’d been leaning over Remus’s body and frown at him. 

“You don’t know that,” Sirius says. The phantoms of Remus’ touch suddenly burn in an unpleasant way and Sirius wonders if keeping his own hands away did any good at all. 

“I do, though.” Remus sits up and wraps long arms around his knees, folding in like swan’s wings as he sits up to be eye-level with Sirius on the bed. “Other people wouldn’t have talked to me in the dining car. They would have watched me that entire time and written me off as a drifter, or a run-away, and never seen the me that’s running towards something.”

Sirius is shaking, his hands and head and heart. 

“You talked to me first,” Sirius argues, “and how do you know that I don’t think you’re just some lonely boy with his guard down?” 

The words are meant to slice, but Remus only smiles in a way that makes Sirius even more nervous, as if he sees Sirius’ last-ditch attempt at self-preservation as endearing. 

“I know because you still haven’t put a hand on me.” Remus smiles in that secret way once more and Sirius knows he has been caught. 

Sirius noticed Remus in the dining car and saw danger in the very shape of him, feigning confidence in the first words he spoke. Even then, Sirius told himself not to get attached. Nothing good has ever come to him by letting his guard down.

But now he has Remus next to him, warm and pliant and wanting and something about that makes his body remember what it feels like to want something that’s purely his, a feeling that maybe he’s never really understood. For as long as he can remember, Sirius has felt like a hand-me-down in his own life, as if he was lesser-than what his parents were expecting and they were forcing themselves to be happy with what they got stuck with. Remus is looking at him now as though he is the very best thing, the free ice-cream on the hottest day of the year, the most unexpected and welcome of surprises. 

Remus lays himself back onto the bed again, arms up behind his head and crossed at the wrist. 

“You can,” Remus says, his voice warm and inviting. 

“Hm?” 

“Touch me, that is. I want you to.” The words are quiet and Sirius pushes up onto the palms of his hands to hover over Remus. Wants to make sure before he crosses that line. 

“Do you?” he asks, leaning down to whisper right against the shell of Remus’s ear, “Where do you want me to touch you, Remus?” 

It’s a confidence that Sirius didn’t know he had in him, the sudden instinct to make Remus feel incredible and knowing that he can do that. It’s warm in this bed with the sounds of a rumbling train around them and Remus’ soft skin just under his hands. He sits up, settling on his knees between Remus’ parted legs and lets his hands hover just above the sides of his ribcage, fingers splayed. Remus takes a deep breath and his bones push up into Sirius’s waiting palms, slotted against the warm skin. 

Sirius’s fingertips fit into the spaces between Remus’ ribs and he loses a moment following the lines of soft skin as firm bone rises around them. 

“You haven’t answered my question.” Sirius looks up into Remus’ eyes and presses the heel of his hands against the topmost bone on each side of Remus’s ribcage and slides his hands slowly down, pressing firmly as he goes. Remus is letting out slow, stuttered breaths, his spine still curving up to meet Sirius’s touch. 

“Everywhere,” Remus gasps, eyes falling closed, “please, I want you to touch me everywhere.” 

For a moment, Sirius just pauses with his hands spread across Remus’s chest and takes in the sight of him: tousled hair and tightly closed eyes, fingers locked together above his own head. Waiting. Trusting. 

“I will, I promise,” Sirius says, leans forward and slots his lips over Remus’. The spark is immediate, all-consuming, and suddenly his hands are running down to press his thumbs against the grooves of Remus’s hipbones and then sliding back and up the curve of his side. His fingernails catch on raised scars that seem to radiate from the center of Remus’ back and Remus gasps, but it doesn’t sound pained. It sounds like awe. Sirius noses against the sparse, sweat-damp hair of Remus’s armpits and then kisses down along his biceps before clutching against them to ground himself. He never knew that finally getting what he wants would feel like this: a complete inability to stop himself from touching as much of Remus as he can. 

This time when they kiss it’s a forest fire. Remus’ lips are heated and firm against his own, giving as good as he gets and taking up all of Sirius’ focus. Which is fine, really, because his hands seem to be moving of their own accord, gliding over every bit of skin that he can. He wants to learn Remus’ body by feel and then map it out with his eyes later. He just wants them to have time. 

The train hits a bump in its tracks and sends their car jostling, propels Remus’s body up and into Sirius’s hard enough that their hard lengths slide up against each other and Sirius’s breath feels like it’s pulled out of him with the way he heaves up a sob at the feel of it. He’d managed to forget they were naked, but now it’s all he can think about. 

“God,” Remus whispers, taking Sirius’ sound into his mouth and pushing back out in the form of incoherent babbling, a steaming mix of deities and Sirius’ name and then, tacked onto the very end, “I didn’t know it could be like this.” 

“Hm? Like what?” Sirius says, regaining control of his hands to frame Remus’ face, brush his knuckles against the skin wound tight over his cheekbones. 

Their cocks are resting side-by-side, pressed snug with the way Sirius has his hips titled. It feels overwhelmingly sexy, intimate in a way that Sirius wasn’t expecting it to be and he knows what Remus means. He had always thought that having sex with a man like this, unashamed and devastating in its sincerity, would be quick and messy and scalding. Instead he finds a slow heat building within him, one that he wants to string out for as long as he can before it bursts. 

“Like I’m being crushed under the weight of it,” Remus breathes, “But I don’t want it to stop.” 

Sirius nods, props himself up on elbows and glides the tips of his fingers in the hollows under Remus’s eyes, trying to soothe the bruise-purple skin. He drops his hands, then, to settle on either side of Remus’s ribs and pulls his hips back and then forward, a calculating movement. Remus’s breath hitches and his arms are back up around his head, biting his lip. 

“No, please,” Sirius pleads, dragging his cock up along Remus’ in slow, short movements, “Please let me hear you.”

Remus blinks up at him, big pupils and wet eyes with drawn-in eyebrows but Sirius shakes his head and stills his hips.

“No one’s around to hear you except for me,” Sirius says. 

“And the moon,” Remus breathes out, his smile like a secret hanging in the air. 

Sirius doesn’t know what to do with the emotion that wells up inside of him, so he laughs loudly, a sudden bark of sound. Remus is beaming beneath him and nothing about this feels like fear. It feels like something Sirius has never known existed, something quiet and wonderful between the two of them that must be blossoming around the room from how overwhelming it feels. If this is what it is to let someone in, Sirius wonders, then he has no idea how people manage it on a day-to-day basis. It’s completely devouring, it’s eating Sirius up from the inside out and no, he doesn’t want it to stop. 

“Let me take care of you,” Sirius asks, hands poised on Remus’s biceps. 

Remus nods and chuckles a little, like he can’t believe Sirius is real. 

Slowly, Sirius begins to move once more. Remus whimpers and his fingers are white where they grip onto the fabric beneath his head. Sirius lets himself admire Remus’s body, the way it rolls with his own and thinks that this is only the beginning. The things they could do to and with each other are limitless. All they need is each other, this warm bed and the moon to illuminate their bodies as they rock together. 

Time becomes irrelevant to Sirius. He has no idea how long the two of them have been pressed together, their groans and whispers melting into the air around them. When he comes, Remus’ spine curves up into a comma and Sirius matches it, his whole body draping across Remus’ chest and speaking low words of encouragement into his ear, “Fuck, Remus, you’re so good, so good.” 

Remus gets a good grip on Sirius’ shoulders and kisses him, messy and desperate and all Sirius needs to topple over with him. 

---------- 

After, Remus sits on the foot of the bed while Sirius takes his turn using the small sink in the main car to wash up. 

Sirius stumbles back into the room and sees Remus with his legs folded over, staring out the window. “We should rest,” he offers.

“Only a few more hours,” Remus replies. Sirius wants so badly to join Remus on the bed and press his body back into it once more, but he just crosses his arms over his still-bare chest and watches Remus speak. 

“Getting out of London has always been my dream, you know? It was the only thing that kept me going, most days,” Remus shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal and Sirius wants to hold him, let him know that having nothing to rely on but a far-off dream is something that matters a hell of a lot. He doesn’t, though, just sits at the head of the bed and nods. 

“So I told myself that it didn’t matter that I was going alone, and that I didn’t know anyone in the city or have anywhere to go. I told myself that it would be enough to just be gone. I can take care of myself, you know.” His words are accusatory but lack any real venom. Sirius waits a long moment to speak. 

“Yeah, I know you can. And I know that I can, too.” Remus tilts his head in the direction of Sirius’s voice. It’s an acknowledgment of the slightest degree, but Sirius will take whatever he can get. He sits down carefully on the bed. 

“I think it might be nice, though, to have some company,” Sirius pauses, gathers himself and starts again, “I have a hotel suite waiting for me, paid in full for a couple of months. Two bedrooms.” 

Remus unfolds himself and glides up and into Sirius’s lap, pressing his ear down against the steady beat of Sirius’s heart. His legs are draped over Sirius; lap,, sitting sideways with bare feet dangling off the end of the bed, toes skimming across the edge of the duvet. 

“Nothing is ever this easy,” Remus says. 

“No one told us it would be. In fact, everyone in my life has always made sure to let me know that it’s the hardest possible thing,” Sirius says, rubbing one hand slowly along the curve of Remus’s spine, light as a moonbeam over the scar tissue. “Then again, my view on what exactly “it” is varies from theirs in every possible way.” 

Remus nods against his chest. “I need to call my dad. He must be worried sick.” The words are small and tense. “He doesn’t understand me, but it isn’t his fault.” 

“In the morning, when we get ho-. When we get to the hotel. Right now you should probably get some rest.” Sirius gently pushes Remus off his lap and then stands to pull the covers back, sliding underneath them and staring up at Remus as he lays down, his body illuminated by the moonlight behind him. 

He is something altogether different, not in any way what Sirius was expecting and his presence slowly soothing Sirius rather than scaring him. 

Remus makes no move to join him. “You know, I. I don’t do this, Remus,” Sirius says, avoiding the other boy’s eyes. 

“Oh.” It’s a word that comes out clipped, a puff of sound that Remus lets out as he folds into himself. 

“No, Remus, I didn’t mean that I regret it or that I don’t want you here,” Sirius rushes to explain, covering his eyes with his hands, “It’s just that opening myself up to anything isn’t something that’s ever worked out for me. Once burned twice shy, you know?” 

Remus is quiet for a moment before he starts to pull Sirius’ hands down. Sirius doesn’t want Remus to see this soft part of him, but there’s a small smile on his face that only encourages the hope in Sirius’s chest. 

“I still don’t know how you ended up here, or how you like your tea,” Remus whispers, shuffling up close to Sirius under the covers, “Or anything about you at all, really.” 

“We can learn,” Sirius answers, “If you want, that is. We have time.” 

“And what happened to getting some rest?” Remus says, curling the fingers of one hand around Sirius’ wrist. 

“Nothing sounds more relaxing to me than spending a night telling you my secrets,” Sirius says, and pushes forward to catch the corner of Remus’s lips, not giving him time to answer. 

The kiss is slow and thick with intention, and Sirius shivers to the tips of his fingers with the intensity of it. Remus is warm and responsive, his hands fluttering up to curve around Sirius’s neck. 

“I’ll go first, okay?” he asks, pushing the tips of his fingers into Sirius’sdark hair.

“Okay.” Sirius pulls back and closes his eyes, opens himself up to Remus’ words.

_______________

This is my first step into the HP/Wolfstar fandom, heavily adapted from an old WIP. I'm still getting a feel for these boys as characters, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. This is the first in a series of small, unconnected chapters inspired by the works of Richard Siken, and it's my first piece of fan work in over a decade. I am very nervous but happy to be here. Special shout out to @thatsbitchcraft for their kind encouragement and for welcoming me <3

[gnatthecryptic]

Okay, hear me out:

No-mag/hs au Drarry

Draco's part of the student council and definitely on track to be salutatorian (Hermione is obviously valedictorian) while Harry is your average popular jock with heavy Golden retriever energy

Harry, at 16, realizes he's SUPER gay and Malfoy is REALLY attractive and has tried to pursue him since but Draco keeps playing hard-to-get (he has a reputation to live up to, y'know?) So, in turn, Harry does very over-the-top things to get his attention

Like maybe one day, Draco turns a corner and there's Harry under a banner that says "GO OUT WITH ME" and there's flower petals all over the hall, but Draco just gives him detention for making a mess and skipping class while in his head he's probably kicking his feet and giggling

I want their first date to be extremely awkward in a eat-your-shirt kind of way. There's so much built up tension but they're both idiots in their own rights and have no idea what to do now that they're here

Plus, plenty of bad pick-up lines and puns on Harry's part because of Sirius' terrible influence

"Are you trying to hold my hand, Potter?"

"Just reaching for you."

"Reaching?"

"I was always told to reach for the stars, y'know?"

Draco stares at him like he's an idiot (cuz he is) while Harry has a shit-eating grin and just fucking WINKS

Their friends are huddled in the opposite end of whatever establishment they're in (maybe a diner or bowling alley) and all collectively groan and hang their heads in shame except for Ron who's eagerly looking on like, "Hell yeah, that's my best friend."

[my-moony-and-padfoot]

I do have a family

non magical au, kinda modern? Idk it doesn't matter and a hint of jegulus :)

Tw: abuse, nothing graphic tho

Word count: 2 300

A small brown letter, with a black wax seal on it, his mother was that kind of old-fashioned. Everything had to be done the way it had always been. Why change something that has been good for decades. Although Sirius didn't understand that logic, he also didn't understand why this letter was lying in their mailbox under a couple of bills and a newspaper.

He picked it up anyway, although in reality he would've loved to just leave it there and never take it out. But he felt like he had to pick it up, bring it to their flat, open it and read it and do whatever it said. He felt just like he did when he was a child. He just had to.

Sadly, Remus wasn't even at home, so he couldn't open it with him and probably cry about whatever was written there. He sat down on the kitchen counter, although he had been told multiple times not to sit there. He tore the letter open with trembling hands. He didn't want to read this, but he had to. He pulled out the letter, reading through it.

It was written in his mother's beautiful cursive handwriting. Her handwriting was probably the only beautiful thing in that woman, in his opinion at least.

It was an invitation for Christmas. It was coming around in a couple of weeks, and he definitely hadn't expected this letter. He hadn't kept any contact with his parents since he was sixteen. Not since he ran away and was disowned by them. So, he certainly didn't understand why now six years later she decided to invite him for Christmas dinner.

He dropped the letter on the counter, thinking, what the hell was he supposed to do now. He couldn't say no. He needed to go. He knew the consequences of disobeying his parents, definitely his mother. It wasn't allowed. Even though he had been living on his own for six years and hadn't said a word to his mother since then.

She always had her ways of finding out details of her children, where they lived, what they're doing with their lives and such. And if he didn't go to this stupid dinner, he would get a personal visit by his mother. One day, he'd open that door, and she'd come in, or he'd come home, and somehow she was in there. She had her ways.

He wondered if Regulus had gotten the same letter, or was this an opportunity to be humiliated and abused, just for him. Although Christmas was a family holiday after all. Not for his family, though.

In the black family, Christmas would go the same way each and every year. They were forced to come home from school, and then it started. Two weeks of hell. Drinking, drunk confessions of how horrible kids they were, fighting, blaming, hitting, every single thing under the sun.

He definitely didn't want to remember those. For some reason, Christmas was always the worst. Even though their summer break was longer, Christmas time was absolutely the worst, it took him many years to start enjoying Christmas. He still wasn't the biggest fan, but he had started liking it. He had started to enjoy the traditions he and Remus had.

They had been dating since their school days, and during those times he was invited to Remus' around Christmas by Hope, and he went, and loved it. He loved seeing a real family Christmas instead of what was going on at the place he was supposed to call home. But he did not enjoy the beating he got when he got home that summer after.

He did not want to repeat that. So, he needed to go. He slid down off the counter, wiping his eyes, from tears that escaped as he thought about the past. He glanced at the clock, smiling as he realized Remus would be home, in about an hour. This wasn't how he had planned the day to go, but he couldn't change that now, could he?

He decided to make himself a cup of tea, to calm down. As the water boiled, he went to grab his lighter and a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his jacket, tucking them into the pockets of his hoodie, he also grabbed the letter from the counter and folding it into his pocket.

He finished making his tea, adding a bit of honey, in his opinion a bit, but if you ask anyone else it's way too much.  He stepped into his slippers and opened the door to their balcony. He liked this place, they had decorated it nicely, it was one of his favorite places in their small flat.

There was a small couch with a bunch of pillows and a couple of blankets, a small round table, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, blue Christmas lights they had just put up, hanging on the edge and plants covering the rest of the small space, some of them were dead, but that didn't matter, not right now at least. It didn't have the nicest view, but he could see the sunset, and that was something he loved. It was just starting to set, so he sat down on the couch, cross-legged, pulling a blanket over his legs, just to keep warm.

He slowly sipped on his tea, watching the sunset. He also smoked more than a couple of cigarettes, as he did so. It didn't take long for his mug to be empty, so he set it down on the table, continuing to think and smoke. That did calm him down, even though it was a bad habit, it didn't stop the thoughts from flooding his mind, but it calmed him down.

He thought about what would happen at the Christmas dinner. He hoped it wouldn't be something similar that happened all those years ago. He had some kind of child-like hope that it would be a thing to repair things that happened and a long-awaited apology. Although he knew that wouldn't happen. It would never happen.

The letter had a mention of partners, he would be allowed to bring someone. But he knew that his mother was expecting a woman. She didn't exactly agree with his lifestyle or the one who he loved. When he was young and his mother had found out about Remus and them being together. He would never forget the words that were thrown at him by both of his parents. The scars, emotional and physical, would never disappear and probably neither would the thoughts.

That event also had been a Christmas. He had received a letter to school, a couple of days before their break. Telling him that he was disgusting and that this was not okay. And when that letter arrived, he knew what there was to expect when he would come home.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the balcony door creak open. Remus was home. He smiled slightly as Remus appeared in front of him. Sirius looked up and was met by a warm smile and kind eyes. “Hey love.”

“Hi.”

Remus leaned down, kissing his forehead, nose and lastly his lips, kissing his nose always made him blush, which Remus found adorable. “Would you like some more tea?” He asked, when he pulled away, but staying close to him, and not straightening up. Sirius nodded and Remus smiled, grabbing the cup that had been on the table and making his way out of the balcony.

“Don't forget to add honey.”

“When have I forgotten?” Remus chuckled, before closing the door. Remus didn't get how Sirius liked his tea so sweet, to the point it was almost undrinkable, to him at least. He made it anyway, just the way he knew Sirius liked it.

Soon Remus slipped back in with two cups of tea, sitting down beside Sirius and handing him his mug. “Thank you.” He smiled, looking at his boyfriend, and pulling the blanket over Remus as well, so they were under the same one.

They sat there for a while, just enjoying their tea, and both of them being there. Sirius laid his head on Remus' shoulder, continuing to watch the sunset.

“Wanna tell me why you're here, sitting in silence?” Remus asked, brushing his hand through Sirius' hair, his cup was already empty, and he had set it on the table, but Sirius still had some tea left. Sirius was quiet for a minute before speaking.

“Got a letter from my dear mother.” He said, emptying his cup and setting it down next to Remus', digging the letter out of his pocket and giving it to Remus.

“Can I read it?” Sirius nodded, laying his head back down as Remus quickly read through it. He dropped the letter to his lap, kissing Sirius' head, before speaking. “Are you gonna go?”

“Mhm, I have two moons.” He whispered, feeling Remus resting his head on top of his. He hated how much control his mother still had over him, even through a simple letter and first contact after years.

Remus frowned, searching for his hand and interlocking their fingers together. “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked and Sirius shook his head. “Are you sure?” Remus shook his head again.

“That's okay baby.” He murmured. “Wanna be alone?”

“No.”

Sirius' voice sounded hushed and Remus just wanted to make him feel better, and to cure everything that was wrong, to heal everything that had happened, if he could, he'd love to undo it all. But unfortunately, he couldn't, so he'd stay there, trying to make today better. “Okay, I won't go anywhere.” He Kissed Sirius' head, as if to prove his words.

It was about a half an hour, of just sitting there and watching the sunset, it was almost fully set, and the stars had started to come out. Surprisingly, Sirius spoke, breaking the comfortable silence. “I don't wanna go rem, but I have to.”

“I know you don't want to go, Angel. But can I ask what would happen if you didn't go?” He asked, and Sirius thought how he would phrase his thoughts for a moment before answering.

“She'd come here.” He whispered. “She would, she'll do anything, literally anything to get her way and her word through because that's all that matters in her world.”

“I really don't want to go through that again, I'm afraid of what will happen. She isn't inviting Reggie and I to go for good purposes. If he even is invited, I don't know, I probably have to ask.”

“Maybe you should ask him. At least you'll have him there, right? If he is coming.” Remus said. “Would it be so bad if I came with you, I mean the letter did say partners are welcome."?

“They're expecting me and Reggie to bring women because unfortunately to them, we both happen to have boyfriend's.” He said. “You know she'll explode if I bring you, although I'd love you to be there.”

“I can if you'd like to.” He whispered softly, kissing his head. “I mean, I don't care what your parents think about me or us because that doesn't matter because it's not true, You know?”

“Explain?” Sirius asked, he knew what Remus meant, kind of. But he wanted a clarification and just to hear that.

“It doesn't matter what your parents think, not to me. And it shouldn't matter to you, but I know it does, even though you don't think it does.” He explained. “Whatever they've said to you when you were younger, you know when they found out. It's not true, and it doesn't really matter.”

“I know you want them to accept you and me, I know love. I wish they would, I wouldn't love anything more than for you to have a family, a proper one.” Remus said, but was interrupted by Sirius.

“I do have a family rem, a proper one.” He smiled, even though there were small tears falling down. “I have you and Reggie and James, and Lily and all of my Friends, of course, oh, and your parents they're really lovely. That's enough of a family for me, actually the best one.”

Remus smiled, lifting his head up, and Sirius did the same, looking up at him. Remus wiped away his tears, kissing his nose, making him blush. “I know you have a family, and I'm more than happy to be part of it.” Remus smiled, tucking Sirius' hair behind his ear. “It really is the best one.”

“But you know what I meant.” Sirius nodded, looking down. “Hey now.” He whispered softly, tipping chin up with his fingers, so Sirius was looking at him again. “Don't be sad, okay? We'll figure it out. We always do, don't we?” Sirius nodded, with a small smile.

“And look, I know for sure that Regulus will drag James to your parents, meaning you'll have at least some of your real family there, right?” Now Sirius really smiled. “And that invite was for Christmas Eve, meaning we can still have a family Christmas of our own on the twenty-fifth, a real one.” Remus smiled, kissing his nose once again.

“You're obsessed with that.” Sirius noted with a smile, Remus shrugged it off. “Can we really do that?” He asked, they hadn't gotten together on Christmas before, he'd really love that.

“Of course we can.” He said. “I'll make it happen, alright? Most of our friends are lonely and probably don't have much plans for Christmas, and you love mum's cooking.”

“I do.” He smiled, leaning up to give Remus a proper kiss. “You're the best.” He whispered after pulling away, and Remus just smiled at him, pulling him into a hug.

A/N: it's December and that means Christmas and that means Christmas themed fics, well at least one of them :)))

I haven't posted in a while, and that's just because i haven't been feeling that well and haven't really had the energy to write, but today i had this idea. And no definitely did not write this in a couple of hours and no my back doesn't hurt now. And I definitely don't need to sleep.

<3

[soupy-george]

SOO. PY. GEORGE.

I just finished your band au fic!!

INCREDIBLE!!

Your characters are so funny and sarcastic in this 🥰🥰🥰 and! REMUS!! Loml! I especially love his characterization here, he’s so mean! 😍

SPOILER: Him having crippling stage fright and not mentioning it to anyone until like an hour before the show? An icon. Sirius being the only one for whom he would perform in public? DOUBLE ICON.

Also love love love the side characters in this, particularly Kingsley and Benji.

it’s excellent work, you should be so proud.

@munacy hope you know that *mean Remus is 100% inspired by my favourite drawing of yours, with his fag and his frown. It's perfect.

Benji is based on someone very close to me, and I loved putting him in a story, with all his good vibes, keep your tummy full, don't be a dick outlook. Top bloke. Half the dialogue is word for word things he's said to me. 🤣

I'm so glad you liked it! 🖤

[3amfumbles]

hii so I've recently decide to dabble ina but of writing instead of just reading it, and I'd appreciate if all you mauraders lovers would just give me some tips! any constructive criticism and that on the fic im writing rn. I've only posted one chapter that's only about 1k words , just as a little trial run but if linked it so yeah if you could give it a read and give me any help that would be Hella appreciated guys

the title and first chapters are lyrics from hozier songs because I'm a die hard hozier fan!

[wolfstarbuddie]

Wolfstar Prompt

Someone please write a Wolftar AU in the universe of Las Encinas.

In wich the Black brothers, James, etc. are wealthy students at Las Encinas and Remus and Lily are the new scolarship students.

Could be Jily/Jegulus as well.

[amipink]

This was not a fanart at the beginning but stuff happened apperently

[realitybitesyouknowit]

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle Characters: Harry Potter, Tom Riddle Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Voldemort, Alternate Universe - Historical, Harry Potter's Name is Hadrian, Professor Tom Riddle, Falling In Love, Courting Rituals, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Victorian, Etiquette, Cunning Harry Potter, Gay Sex, Maybe - Freeform, but it's me so probably, Gay, normalize being gay, Severus is a valet, Mpreg, Maybe mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Complete Summary:

Hadrian's father has decided it's high time he marry. His mother, however, believes one should marry for love and not duty. After a hit to the head, Hadrian comes up with a cunning plan to land him in London to relearn the finer points of gentry etiquette. Is he there to learn etiquette or is he there to learn to love? Read time approx. 1HR 10MIN