#scottish remus lupin
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pandalilysavior · 1 year ago
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as much as i love the welsh remus headcannon, scottish remus has a special place in my heart.
i just imagine practically everyone not being able to understand him because he has a strong accent
EXCEPT lily because they grew up as neighbours.
i just love it so much
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lulublack90 · 19 days ago
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Prompt 6 - Icicle
@wolfstarmicrofic December 6, word count 296
“Come on, fall,” Sirius grumbled as he threw another well-compacted snowball. 
“Why don’t you just use your wand? You’d have them down in seconds.” Remus asked, recasting a warming charm on his hands. His gloves were thin and did little to keep the Scottish winter air out. 
“Where’s the fun in that?” Sirius scoffed as he threw another snowball. He hit an icicle this time. It wobbled but stayed attached to the overhanging roof of the courtyard. 
Remus wanted to go back inside and stand as close to one of the many fires cracking merrily away inside the castle, but he stayed because someone had to watch that Sirius didn’t impale himself. 
He stayed outside until even his warming charms couldn’t shift the cold. He bent and picked up a handful of snow, carefully rolling it into a ball between his palms. He drew his arm back and threw the snowball at the icicle Sirius had already hit. The snowball hit it dead centre, and he threw it with enough force that it caused a chain reaction. 
The icicle crashed to the floor, shattering in front of Sirius’s feet. 
“Damn, Moony, a bit of warning,” He managed to say just before the next two icicles hit the frozen ground. All the icicles along the strip of roof began crashing down. The sound was almost deafening. Remus pulled Sirius back a few steps, and they watched until the last icicle fell. 
“Please can we go back in now?” Remus pleaded. 
“Sure we can,” Sirius said, reaching up on his tiptoes to kiss Remus on his cold cheek. “Come on, we can go down to the kitchen and get a proper hot chocolate,” Remus grabbed Sirius’s hand, dragged him inside and flew down the steps towards the kitchens.
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jaylienpotter · 1 year ago
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Sirius: Prongs? Can I uhm... Talk to you?
James: of course.
Sirius: there's something Moony and I want to say...
James: is everything okay?
Sirius: yeah! Uhm... It's just... (holds Remus's hand)
James: (waiting for him to keep going) what is it?
Sirius: (gives him a look)
James: what?
Sirius: (looks at Remus annoyed and desperate)
Remus: (signs saying for him to talk)
James: (extremely confused) are you sure you're okay?
Sirius: we... we're dating.
James: that's amazing! Who are you dating?
Remus: (sighs) James. (holds up his hand intertwined with Sirius's)
James: oh. (pause) Oh! (realisation) wait! You... (points at Pads) And you (points at Moony)? Together (joins his fingers)?
Remus: yes, Potter.
James: oh. Okay. Cool. Uh... I was not expecting that but- Wait! Sirius, you're gay?? I expected it from Remus but- (turns to him) no offence- not that being gay is a bad thing! I'm cool with it!
Remus: it's fine, James.
Sirius: I'm bisexual.
James: which means...?
Sirius: I like both girls and boys.
James: that's good. More fish in the sea. (nods) Are you going to tell anyone else?
Sirius: oh, Marlene and Lily know.
James: (offended) you told Evans before me?!
Sirius: no no no! It was Remus! I only told Marlene and it was because she's also (hand motion) you know?
James: she's gay?! Wait! Is Lily a lesbian?? Remus?!
Remus: naw, don't worry. She's into blokes. She just doesnae like ye for different reasons.
James: (relieved)
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wildflowergirlie · 10 months ago
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I love being in a large fandom because on a whim I decided to see if there were any fics (like at all) in Scottish Gaelic (Gaidhlig), and the first one is a freaking wolfstar fic. like what are the odds?
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celestialgalaxyglow · 5 months ago
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Severus: Do we all speak multiple languages? I can speak Latin and ancient Greek.
Regulus: French, Latin, and ancient Greek.
Sirius: French.
James: Hindi.
Remus: Welsh, Latin, and ancient Greek.
Peter: Spanish, specifically Chilean Spanish.
Lily: Scottish Gaelic, Latin, and ancient Greek.
Pandora: French, Latin, and ancient Greek.
Xenophilius: French and Latin.
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atlasdoe · 10 months ago
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For Remus' birthday my wish is that The Marauders fandom would stop confusing Wales to Birmingham😭
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siriuscockblockblack · 1 year ago
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i just saw a post about portugese marlene and now all i can think about is where the marauders are from.
after thinking about this long and hard( i spent like two seconds on each person i am a very fast thinker) i present to you:
a (quarter italian) indian james!!
a french sirius and regulus (and the entire black family really)
a welsh remus
a german peter
a portugese marlene (i accept nothing less)
an english lily
a brazilian mary
an italian barty
a scottish evan ( he was brought up in london)
an african dorcas
a mix of everything pandora (she is some part egyptian idk how but she is)
did i forget anybody?
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mrkeatingsblazer · 2 years ago
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“Reader is an American transfe-“ never opening this again
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enbysiriusblack · 2 years ago
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lily evans 🤝 dorcas meadowes 🤝 remus lupin
hating on england
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kquil · 11 months ago
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POLY MARAUDERS | HEROES IN TATTOOS PART 5
05 : DRUNK AND CIGARETTE SMOKE
SUM : It’s been a few weeks and James makes a reappearance in your life, Remus too — they’ve fallen into bad habits. 
G. : modern au ; muggle au ; tattoo artist james potter ; piercer remus lupin ; remus smokes ; drunk james ; reader is sad ; this is a little sad chapter ; fergus is an amazing, lovable manager ; i’m horrible at writing the scottish accent! ; james is an adorable drunk ; james’ car is sexy and red ; remiss has eye bags and smells of cigarette smoke ; uh oh ; it’ll get better soon! 
LENGTH : 2.8k
← PREV. : 04 | DISAPPEAR
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You stare in disbelief at the notice that stares back at you mockingly from behind the glass door of the ‘Marauders Tattoo Parlour’. 
‘NOTICE’ it said in bold red sharpie, right above a handwritten message that you recognise as Remus’ neat penmanship, ‘due to personal reasons, Prongs, Padfoot and I (Moony) will be keeping the parlour closed until further notice. We kindly ask that you remain patient as private matters are being sorted through and resolved. We are still open for online and phone consultations to discuss designs and potential future appointments. Kindest Regards, The Marauders’. Beneath the polite and brief explanation of current circumstances was a business email address and phone number as well as working times for phone calls. 
The weeks following your discovery of the boys’ true relationship, you rarely ever passed their parlour. A little over three weeks has passed now and you’ve finally been able to walk past their studio doors close enough to read the notice. You’re frozen in place as dread and worry cultivates shards of sharpened ice to grow within you. Freezing up your senses, freezing up your mind and freezing up limbs. Yet, your heart is racing like never before, your blood pounding against your ears like a drummer gone mad. 
The feeling that settled in your stomach wasn’t a pleasant one, especially when you felt completely responsible for the boys’ sudden hiatus in business. They had often talked to you about how much the parlour meant to them, how it was their best investment and remains their biggest source of opportunity — an opportunity to help people express themselves. It’s a form of freedom that many have been deprived of (themselves included) and they were honoured to now be able to provide that same freedom to others. For them to completely close up shop like this was completely bizarre. 
How long have they been closed for?
You bite your lip and will yourself to move your feet, the ice in your limbs breaking uncomfortably, shattering into a million knives of ice, shooting pins and needles up your arms and legs as if your blood had been frozen up too. As you walk away, you slip your phone back into your pocket, where your hands also remain. 
While contemplating what could have happened to your favourite tattooists and piercer, you made sure to save a picture of their business phone number onto your photos. 
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You were never able to call their business number. And you had many excuses lined up to absolve your cowardly behaviour. The main one being that it was their business number, it wasn’t meant to be used for a conversation between friends. Were you even still friends at this point? The thought made you shiver and stole the appetite right from your stomach. It was a greedy little thing cowardice, regret too. They’ve stolen many things from you, your appetite was their favourite thing to purloin, motivation another, happiness as well. Nasty, selfish and greedy thieves. But you weren’t brave enough to confront them and make them stop. And that, alone, makes you their willing accomplice — so who’s really to blame? 
It didn’t help that through this entire ordeal, you’ve realised that none of the boys have exchanged phone numbers with you. To say that you were bitter was an understatement. If they never gave you their number, why would they want you ringing them in the first place? 
…maybe they didn’t have a reason to? You couldn’t remember a single time after the day you first brought them that homemade ‘thank you’ lunch where you hadn’t seen them on a regular basis. And now that you were used to seeing them almost daily, your life has since been bleeding of colour and vibrance. Days are dull and monotonous, it’s hard to motivate yourself to do pretty much anything, let alone your job.
“Yer’ve been sighin’ so much these days, I’m startin’ to see wrinkles forming’ on yer cute lil’ face lass,” Furgus comments, nudging your hip with his own as he passes by you behind the counter. 
Flustered, you scramble to get back to work with a quick apology, evidence of your embarrassment heating up your cheeks as you do so, “I’m so sorry Gus,”
With hearty laugh, the burly Scottish man pats you on the back and whispers some reassuring words, “Yer’ve got nothin’ ta worry about lass, I jus’ wan’ed ta see if you were al’ight is all,”
“I’m okay,” you smile grateful for his care only to be met with suspicious eyes and a deep, bearded frown. 
“Don’t grow a habit o’ lyin’ ta me lass, it won’t do ya any good,” his words make more heat rise to your cheeks but you reassure him as best as you can in between taking orders and serving drinks. It was no use however, Fergus saw you as his own daughter, he knew you like the back of his hand and you know that he had his suspicions of your odd behaviour lately — all derived from a sadness he didn’t like you wearing. Thankfully, he decided to leave you alone with your sorrow and regret and focused back on managing the pub. Tonight was pretty average, you saw the regulars and greeted them with a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes; if any of them noticed, they never said a thing about it to you. Thank god. 
It seemed like it would be another regular night until you caught sight of a familiar figure in the corner of your eye. You had just gotten back from your break when you spot James at a far table, nursing a pint and buried under a sheet of suffocating misery all on his lonesome. 
“James?” you breathed in disbelief with a wide-eyed stare directed right at him. 
“You know that guy?” Bonnie, your coworker, asks in a whisper into your ear and you had no choice but to nod your head in confirmation — you’ve already outed yourself, there was no point in lying, “well he’s been drinkin’ himself to death for the past hour or so, what’s gotten into him? D’ya know?”
“No…” you’re a liar. 
“Well ya be’er find out or else imma have ta kick the poor bastard outta ‘ere,” Fergus comments, his arms folded over his large chest and his brows knitted together in disapproval. 
“May I—…?” you begin to ask softly, sending a curious look towards Fergus who meets your eyes with a small smile and a wink. 
“Consider yerself off fer da night,” with a smile, you thank him and take a breath before making your way over to the miserable tattooist. 
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“Angel!” James smiles happily at the sight of you, his drunken state adding an adorable dopiness to his already charming grin, “It’s you~” he coos and wraps his arms around your middle to bury his face into your stomach when you were close enough, “I missed you so much, angel~” he sighs, his voice muffled by your clothes as he refuses to detach himself from you, “even if this is just another dream…” you barely hear him and you almost curse yourself from being able to because his words make your heart drop to your stomach. 
“James,” you ask softly, “can you please get up?” 
“Why?” he shuffles to press his chin into your lower belly and stare up at you with those sweet hazel eyes of his. The sneaky bastard, he knows how weak at the knees you become from his simple stare. You’ve never told him so and often put in the effort to not show it but you know, he knows. 
“Because you need to go home,” he gives an incredulous look at your reasoning and he’s adorable doing so, even in his drunken state. 
“Why would I need to do that when you’re right here?” he slurs and hiccups, your heart pounding erratically at his words.  
“James please—”
“No!”
“James—”
“‘m not going home! I wanna stay here with you,” he presses his face into your stomach again and sobs into your clothes, “you’re gonna disappear again,” he sobs miserably, “I don’t want that…” 
“Please just let me call you a taxi James?” he doesn’t respond, pressing his face further into your stomach as you comb your fingers through his dark hair, you touch gentle and comforting, coaxing him into some compliance, “remind me of your address again and I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”
“NO!” 
You suppress a defeated sigh. 
It takes several minutes of coaxing until you’re finally able to take his phone from him. He refuses to let you call him a taxi and you weren’t going to force him to walk home alone in his drunken state so you’re going to have to do the one thing you can think of that’ll guarantee his safe return home. Not that you’ll enjoy it because it means confrontation. 
“Can you tell me your passcode, please, James?” you ask in a gentle whisper, only to him, “I need to do something very important on your phone,”
With a large smile he recites the digits, “22nd of the 6th, 17,” the way he says it makes your raise a brow. Sensing your curiosity, James answers your silent question, “is the day Moony, Pads and I became official,” he giggles adorably to himself as you smile somewhat sadly — another reminder that you should stay away. You don’t say anything to prompt him further and, instead, type in the code before looking through his contacts. It takes you a moment but you’re eventually pressing call and waiting patiently for Remus to pick up.
“…James?” Remus’ familiar, kind voice speaks tiredly through the phone and you don’t know whether to breath a sigh of relief or worry, “Hello?”
It takes you a moment but you finally will yourself to speak, “Hey, um, Remus?” 
“…Dove?” he’s in complete disbelief and it’s evident in his voice, “Is that really you?”
“uh…yeah,” you chirp sheepishly and Remus is all forms of elated but his excitement dwindles quickly when he realises how you’re able to call him. 
“Why do you have James’ phone?” you were right to call him, knowing that he was preceptive, reasonable and easy to talk to even with the tension in the air. Patiently, you explain the situation, never taking your fingers away from James’ hair as he practically purrs into your form, adoring the physical contact and muttering to himself happily. It’s especially loveable like this, considering that it’s him being dopey and giggly and not anyone else.
“Oh…” Remus sighs, clearly disappointed, “I’m so sorry, darling, I’ll get him right away,” 
“It’s no trouble, Rem,” it was hard not to cringe when the familiar nickname easily rolls off your tongue. As if nothing happened — oh how you wish for such a reality!
“Just tell me where you are and I’ll be right over,” you don’t know if you’re just imagining it but there’s a considerable shift in his voice, he sounds much softer after hearing his nickname easily fall from your lips. 
“We’re at the Boar and Elephant pub on Chapel Road,” 
“Alright, I’ll be there soon,” with a click, he was gone and you were left to keep James satisfied until he got there. It wasn’t an overly tough job; James seemed perfectly content nuzzling into your stomach with his arms hugging you in place as your fingers massage his scalp and gently groom his hair. He’s like a puppy, eager to receive affectionate cuddles and pets. If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it like crazy and you giggle to yourself at the mental image it conjures up. 
“I missed that…” James mutters, maybe to himself but it wasn’t clear.
“I’m sorry?”
“I miss the sound of you giggling,” you don’t know what to say but he continues, going off on a tangent, “it’s so pretty, you’re so pretty. It’s like the sound of a cute little bell ringing…so pretty— pretty pretty pretty!” you can’t lie to yourself, he’s absolutely precious, “I miss you so much angel, why did you go away? I don’t want you away, I want you with me, and with Remus and with Sirius too…” he murmurs something into your stomach that you weren’t able to pick up but don’t press him further on the matter, fearing that your heart might just about burst if you do. You can’t afford to hope for such a fantasy with them when it could never become a reality. 
It just wasn’t possible…
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“Not fair!”James whines, making grabby hands at you as Remus, with the force of a gentle giant, manoeuvres him into the back seat of a red Jaguar XJR. Dealing with a defiant baby was a struggle so dealing with a giant, beefy baby like James Potter was like trying to control a hurricane. But Remus had a magic touch and arguably had more of a silver tongue than Sirius did so he made it look like a walk in the park. It was astounding, “I wanna be with my angel!” James sobs as Remus closes the door on him, putting a stop to James’ needy cries. 
“She’s not yours, she’s no one’s,” was Remus’ response even though he had already closed the door, James unable to hear him and the hint of dismay coherent in his tired voice, “thank you for looking after him, Dove, you’re always too kind,”
“N-no, don’t worry about it,” he smiles down at you, silence filling up the space between your two lonely figures under the amber lamplight. He doesn’t seem to mind the hush in conversation but knowing that his eyes were fixed on you was unnerving, “so! Is that your car?” you ask, desperate for a change in conversation; your restless fiddling making your intentions obvious but Remus keeps to himself. 
“No, no, it’s not mine,” he answers with a short chuckle, “this is James’ car,”
“Oh…” you hum to yourself thoughtfully, eyes carefully examining the body and model of the car, “I see,” it looks like a car James would have, you think to yourself. There was more silence until Remus finally brings himself to commence your farewells. 
“Well I suppose I should head off, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” your heart stutters, almost to a stop, at his words, even more so when you see him hesitate upon leaning down. A victim to your own habits, you find yourself closing your eyes and awaiting his gentle kiss goodbye against your temple.
…But it never comes.
“Goodbye then,” he calls over his shoulder, and rounds the car to get to the driver’s seat. 
“—Do you smoke?” you suddenly ask, in some part desperate to extend your interaction with each other and other parts curious of the lingering cigarette smoke you smell on his clothes, masking his usually comforting fragrance. It’s strong enough that you were able to catch it from your formal amount of distance with each other and it struck you as odd. You had never seen him smoke before. 
Remus laughs a brief and strained sound as he looks at you from over the hood of the car, did he always have such deep eye-bags? “Not usually,” he sends you a sheepish smile once you’re finally able to meet his eyes, “but I’ve recently taken to it again,“ he sees worry and grief fill your eyes and hurries to correct himself, ”—But don’t worry, Dove,” his features are gentle and kind, warm and… forgiving, “I’m okay,” 
The world slows as you watch him bend his head to sit in the drivers seat. It’s been too long. For you, at least. This can’t continue. It scares you to think about where this may go if you leave it to late. It’s only been three weeks! If this is the result…you dread to think about what would happen if things went on for longer than that. James is drinking himself to death. Remus is smoking cigarettes. What about Sirius? Your stomach twists uncomfortably, painfully, your heart too. 
“No! You’re not!” you shout, tears of anger welling up in your eyes as Remus stops and looks over at you once again, his breath hitching when he sees your eyes glistening with tears, “you’re not okay…” 
“Dove—”
“I’m coming by tomorrow,” you announce, “at lunch,” this was a commitment you’re making, a commitment to him, to them. Even if you’re heartbroken, that doesn’t give you the right to be a bad friend. You brave a watery smile, “I’ll make your favourites…so you better be there!”
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→ NEXT : 06 | SELFISH DESIRES
A/N : i’m so sooo sorry for my depiction of the scottish accent, i really tried my best, please don’t hate me! if you have any ideas of how i could make it better, please say so, i’d really appreciate it. Also, i know that this isn’t completely fluff but we’re getting there, you’ll have to wait and see in the next chapter! 
NAVI. | HEROES IN TATTOOS MASTERLIST
TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut @arilxup88
@ghostgardn @mess-is-my-aesthetic @zesnuts @enamoredwithbella
@susyelectra @fangirlninja67 @pagesfalling @thepunisherfrankcastle @axeofwars @imarimon @in-love-with-4-marauders @chicken-taco-burrito @valencia-rou @feast0nmeee @lestat-whore @hvmxjjk @twilightlover2007 @diaryofabiwoman @woohoney @celestialfantasiess @willbedecided @lovelyygirl8 @iiirhiane-g @mangodamochiii @queerqueenlynn @l3xiluve @brain-has-left @bunbunbl0gs @kneelforloki @citrusiove @virtualbuni @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @that1nerd-20 @wolfstar4everbitches @skepvids @dearmy-diary @littledollfacebaby @mylifeisnothing @em16cor @krazyk99 @imdoingbetternow @realalpacorn @remussbitch @swiftieeras1989 @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @canthavetoomuchchaos @rckstrbee @b-i-h-i @ennycutie @kneelforloki @theteaobsessedbug @padfoot1313 @d1gital-data @venezsuwayla @melllinaa
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theemporium · 2 years ago
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Full moon Remus being possesive! I just think that if anyone dare to look at you he would just hold you tight and be like “mine 😠”
It’s so basic but I love it!
FULL MOON REMUS IS BECOMING MY FAVOURITE REMUS RN I CANT LIE🫡thank you for requesting!🖤
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It should have been a nice day out to Hogsmeade with your friends with very little chance of anything going wrong. 
So, of course something had to go wrong. 
It was a warm day, exams were far enough to not cause you enough stress just yet and Sirius had convinced the group that Saturday would be the perfect opportunity for a day out to Hogsmeade before they got sucked into studying and stress. And truthfully, you all needed the break. 
You ate breakfast together, meeting just after ten before you headed out to the nearby town. You went from shop to shop, laughing and joking and enjoying the little sun the Scottish weather seemed to bestow on you. It was truly the perfect day. 
The problem didn’t arise until the sun was beginning to set and you had made your way towards the Three Broomsticks to enjoy a drink or two before you headed back to the castle. Remus had been needier and touchier than usual, but it was nothing you weren’t used to. You knew it was just him being a little on edge with the full moon approaching in the next few days, and truthfully you didn’t mind the extra affection. 
So, it wasn’t odd when he threw an arm over your shoulder when you were talking to Dorcas. And it wasn’t odd when he placed a line of soft kisses along your jaw to gain your attention. But then he was practically pulling you onto his lap and it was enough for you to turn around, a look of concern on your face at the rage in your boyfriend’s eyes. 
You followed his gaze and found him glaring at a classmate you recognised from your herbology class. The boy seemed to look over just at that moment and flashed you a smile, giving you a friendly wave and you returned the gesture. 
That was the last straw for Remus. 
The rest was a blur of fists flying, blood spilling and James, Sirius and Frank having to tear Remus away from the boy before you could even reach him. You had barely said a word other than ‘follow me’ as you grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the pub, only giving the wizard a glare when he tried to wrap his arms around you. 
And now you were sitting in one of the bathrooms, cleaning up the cuts on his face with as much skill as you could without having to take him to Madam Pomfrey.
“Don’t give me those damn puppy dog eyes,” you grumbled to him, your eyes focusing on the cut by his eyebrows instead of the soft expression your boyfriend was giving you. 
“M’sorry,” he murmured, his hands wrapping around your thighs and tugging you to stand between his legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to bat his hands away. 
“Are you actually sorry or are you just saying that because you know I’m angry at you?” you asked in a blunt voice. 
“Both?”
“You are something else, Lupin.” 
He let out a soft groan at the use of his last name, his forehead pressed against your stomach as his arms wound themselves around your legs. “I am sorry, baby, he just…he kept staring at you,” he grumbled, a flicker of anger in his chest as he noted the way the boy had been staring at you all night. “It pissed me off.”
“So you just had to swing at him?” you retorted.
He lifted his head, his chin pressed against your stomach as his darkened gaze met yours. “He needed to know who you belonged to, sweetheart.”
You raised your brows. “So now I belong to you?”
“Yes,” Remus stated simply, his hands running up and down your thighs until they moved up to squeeze your ass. “And I belong to you.” 
“Stop saying stuff that makes me swoon, Lupin,” you grumbled as you raised a hand to push the hair away from his face, watching with some amusement as the boy growled in delight at the feeling. “I’m trying to stay mad at you.”
“Let me make it up to you,” he murmured, his nose nudging against the hem of your t-shirt as it started to rise. “Let me make you scream my name.”
“You’re such a cocky bastard.”
“And you love what this cocky bastard can do with his—”
“Remus!”
“Don’t worry, baby, there will be plenty of time to scream my name.”
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pandalilysavior · 1 year ago
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remus would definitely live near the sea front in Cullen i don’t make the rules.
like one of the houses with painted window frames near the top of the hill. or closer to the actual sea.
it just makes so much sense to me
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lulublack90 · 14 days ago
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Prompt 11 - Hot Toddy
@wolfstarmicrofic December 11, word count 478
Since they’d left Hogwarts and didn’t have access to the Hospital wing and the skills of Madam Pomfrey, Remus had to make do the best he could after his transformation each month. 
This time, he’d caught a nasty cold, and no matter what potions Sirius brewed for him, it just wouldn’t shift. Sirius had been amazing and had even gone to Hogwarts to beg Madam Pomfrey to come help. It hadn’t taken much. As soon as he said it was for Remus. She’d packed up a medical bag and come back with Sirius. But even she couldn’t figure out how to help him. 
It had been over a week, and Sirius had turned to muggle medicine. Remus could hear a lot of swearing and clattering in the kitchen. Remus hauled himself out of bed and wandered towards the herd of elephants parading in the flat. 
His limbs felt heavy, and his joints ached, but he knew it was good for him to get out of bed, even if it was to deal with whatever catastrophe was going on. 
Sirius stood facing away from him with an array of ingredients lined up on the counter and two mugs. Remus watched as Sirius mixed honey and firewhisky together, then added half a cinnamon stick and poured boiling water from the kettle into each mug. 
The sweet, fiery smell hit Remus, and he groaned. It was the first thing he’d been able to smell since he had got his cold. Sirius nearly dropped the kettle. He spun around, grasping his chest as he chastised Remus for being out of bed. 
“Get back to bed; I’ll be in in a minute.” He said, putting the kettle back on its base. Popped a slice of lemon studded with a clove into the steaming mugs. Remus had no idea what the drink was, but he couldn’t wait to try it. 
He let Sirius usher him back to bed. He flopped back onto the mattress and tucked himself back under the covers. Sirius joined him and passed him one of the mugs. 
Remus inhaled the fragrant steam.
“What is it?” He asked as he blew on the top of it, hoping it would cool down quicker. 
“It’s called a hot toddy. A sweet Scottish granny told me how to make them when I was looking at the cold medicine in the pharmacy. She was quite insistent that it was the only thing that would help,” Remus nodded along and took a sip. It was delicious. Sweet and spicy and warmed him to his toes. He downed it quickly and snuggled into the bed, his eyes growing droopy as he drifted off to sleep. 
When he woke up, Sirius was gone, and he felt better than he had in days. Now, he wasn’t saying that Sirius’s concoction had worked, but it certainly hadn’t done any harm.  
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marigold-hills · 10 days ago
Text
Precious Things (Part 6)
a Remus Lupin Yuletide Miracle
Day six: Icicle | @wolfstarmicrofic
722 words
PART 1 | PREVIOUS PART
*🎄🎄🎄*
Nothing happens, which is maybe more disappointing than it should be. Remus doesn’t know what he expected - an immediate answer now that he got himself in line and responded, he supposes - but of course that was naive.
It’s Sunday. People have things to do on Sundays, friends or family to see. Whoever the person in the Notebook was, they wouldn’t just be sitting around, waiting for Remus to stop being pathetic and write them back.
A nagging, always worried part of Remus tells him that he was too late, that the person (his person) got tired of waiting for him and threw away the Notebook, and there never will come a response.
As each week, he bundles up against the cold and ventures out to the red telephone box across from his flat. His mum waits for the call in the little cottage in the Welsh countryside. It’s the same home Remus grew up in, with the same books and smells and love.
“How are you this week, annwyl?” she asks in that voice of hers that soothes and makes better and, sometimes, brings Remus back down to reality when he’s gone lost too far in his grumpiness or in his books. 
It’s a lovely talk. It always is. She tells him about their winter roses blooming and he tells her about a letter that got lost on the Scottish border when an owl got distracted by a little girl feeding it bacon. She asks: remember the year we had all that snow? And your da didn’t tighten the bathroom tap properly?
And there was an icicle hanging off it in the morning, Remus finishes for her. I remember.
That was his last winter living at home. He visits, of course: every holiday and every other month, but there is something different about it now he doesn’t call it home any longer.
No - that’s not right. He calls it home still. But every time he goes back there are little changes he would have known about were he living there permanently - like the tea cabinet changing location, or new greys in his mum’s hair.
He’s cold when he gets back to his flat - both in and out - so he sets to making a hot chocolate. Milk on the stove warming up as he chops up a bar of 70% dark. A little bit of cinnamon, a little bit of nutmeg.
He doesn’t recognise the sound straight away. It’s soothing and soft and only just loud enough to be heard. He thinks it’s birds outside of his window, first, but then his gaze falls to the Notebook and the soft golden glow emanating from within the pages.
Even just in front of himself, he’s rather embarrassed about how fast he falls over himself to get it.
As interesting as botany could be, it reads, I’m afraid I was being forward.
Remus huffs out a laugh. An actual, real, proper laugh. Out of all the things he was expecting… except that’s not right, not at all, because he expected to be ignored.
Instead, this.
Are you usually? he writes back and tells himself to drink his chocolate (perfect, perfect chocolate) and go about his day. He’s not going to sit around waiting.
Except it’s minutes, when the chime rings again.
Interested in botany, or forward?
Remus has the Quill in his fingers before he knows it.
The latter.
The writing happens slowly on the page. Remus watches words formed in that pretty, pretty handwriting.
It depends who you ask. This time, I’m afraid, it was spurred on by the poor guidance of my brother. 
Somehow it’s this - the mention of a brother - that reminds Remus this is a real person he’s talking to. Flesh and blood, and thought and feelings, a hand which grips the Quill and produces that ridiculous calligraphy. Someone with taste in food and music and who makes bad choices because their brother pushes them to do so.
Do you follow his poor guidance often? There’s a wide smile on Remus’ face as he writes and he hides it in his cup of chocolate because it is embarrassing, and ridiculously, and he needs to get a grip. Even though there’s no one to see.
Oh, love, the reply comes before Remus can even put the Notebook down, you have no idea. 
*🎄🎄🎄*
they’re finally talking 🥹🥹
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in new parts as they come out!
@dead-gay-wizard-poet
@hoje--aqui
@prancingpony42
@annaliza999
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lupinmoonlight · 8 months ago
Note
I was wondering, when you get the time if you could do a birthday thing with Remus where it starts off all cutesy and fun during the day and gets sexual in the evening, or something like that. Maybe the date could be Dec 6th or take place in December?? I kind of rambled sorry. I hope you have a good day!!
Patience is a Virtue
Masterlist AO3
Summary - It's your birthday and after a date in Hogsmeade, Professor Lupin goes down on you (1,978 words).
Warnings - Oral sex, kissing, fluff, smut, cheesy fluff, unprotected sex, my grammar, not proof-read.
Notes - It's my birthday so I decided to write this request. I'm also half-asleep and only have 4 hours of sleep left before i have to get up for university :') cheers
It was a cold winter day, the kind of cold that bit at your cheeks and made the snow crunch under your feet. Your hand was securely tucked into Remus', each breath you took materializing as a small cloud before dissipating into the crips air of the Scottish Highlands. Hogsmeade was just a short walk away, and you could already see the rising smoke from the chimneys of the snow covered houses and shops. 
"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a warmer celebration? We could apparate to Spain, have a paella by the beach," he teased. 
Laughing, you squeezed his hand. "And miss a birthday walk to Hogsmeade with you? Never. Besides, I'm looking forward to that cinnamon latte at Madam Puddifoot's" you replied. 
Remus smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced down at you. "Well, anything for the birthday girl," he said. You knew Madam Puddifoot's wasn't Remus' favourite. It was too pink, too tacky, too much, but you loved it and it was your birthday and so he went. 
As you approached the village, you took in the scent of fresh pastries emanating from the shop with their frosty windows. Children ran past you, laughing and throwing snowballs. It was perfect. He was perfect. 
You turned your face to look at him, admiring the way the winter sun caught the edges of his slightly greying hair and the gentle lines around his eyes. Feeling your gaze, he looked down, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that made you absolutely melt. 
"Enjoying the view?" he asked playfully. 
"Yes, Professor," you giggled, the title coming out teasingly. 
Remus chuckled warmly. "You must stop being so adorable- it's hard to resist not kissing you right here," he quipped as he reached to tuck a loose strand of your hair back into your scarf. 
"Why resist, Professor?" you whispered back, standing on your tiptoes, pulling him closer by his coat. 
With a mock sigh of surrender, Remus leaned down, his lips meeting yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. 
Hand in hand, you continued your walk into Hogsmeade. The village was charmingly festive and buzzing with excitement for the coming holidays. You soon found yourselves in front of Madam Puddifoot's tea shop. The place was bustling with chatter and filled with a slightly over-the-top array of pink decorations and floating candles that flickered softly above your heads. 
Remus guided you to a secluded table, helping you off with your coat before pulling out your chair. He waited until you were comfortably settled and made his way to the counter, only to return shortly with a tray bearing two steaming cups of cinnamon lattes and a plate of pastries.
His gaze lingered lovingly on you as you took a sip. Your cheeks were still pink from the cold and your eyes were sparkling with the joy of the day that he had made so special. "You're beautiful," he murmured, almost without thinking, keeping his voice low enough so only you could hear. 
You looked up from your cup, not brave enough to set it down and expose the blush that was threatening to intensify under his gaze. After a moment, Remus slid his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box, placing it gently on the table. "For you," he said softly. 
Your eyes lit up with curiosity and delight. "Remus, what is this?" you asked as you untied the ribbon and opened the box to reveal a delicate gold necklace with a beautifully crafted moon as a pendant- a symbol so deeply personal to him. 
"It's just...I always want to be with you, even when I'm not there. This way, a part of me always will be," he explained, his eyes never leaving your face. 
"It's beautiful," you whispered, lifting it out and holding it towards him. "Would you...?" 
With a nod, he stood, moving to your side to fasten the necklace around your neck. His fingers brushed your skin, sending a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. Once secured, he leaned down, kissing the top of your head softly, whispering, "Perfect."
Sitting back down, Remus reached into another pocket and produced a slightly larger package. "There's more," he added. 
As you unwrapped the second gift, you found a luxurious quill, alongside a well-bound book on advanced potion-making, and a selection of your favourite teas. 
"Remus, how did you...these are perfect!" 
"I'm glad you think so. I love seeing you this happy." 
~
After running a few errands, you and Remus returned to the quaint warmth of your cottage. It smelled of lavender  mixed with the earthy scent of the woodsmoke from the fireplace. It smelled home. 
You began unpacking in the kitchen, lining up a few ingredients for a simple dinner and setting aside the new teas beside the kettle. The house was quiet, save for the quiet crackle of the fire and the occasional clink of a jar finding its place on the shelf. 
Remus watched you for a moment, leaning against the doorway, his eyes tracing the familiar lines of your figure. He walked quietly behind you, slipping his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You let out a small, surprised gasp, a smile curving your lips as you leaned back into him. 
"Did you get everything you needed?" he murmured. 
"Mmm," you hummed, feeling the warmth or his body seeping into your back. 
Remus leaned down, his lips brushing the skin of your neck, placing tender kisses that made you shiver delightfully. "You smell like cinnamon and winter," he whispered, inhaling deeply as if trying to imprint your essence in his memory. His hold tightened, one of his hands tracing a path up to caress the line of your jaw. 
You tilted your head to give him better access, your eyes closing in delight. "Remus," you breathed out. 
He responded with a low hum. "I can't seem to get enough of you," he murmured, his lips tracing a path up to your ear, nibbling gently. "Like a man starved." 
You turned within his armed, facing him, your hands sliding up to circle around his neck. "You have me. All of me," you said, pressing your body closer to his. You could feel his growing arousal through your layers of clothing, pressing insistently against you. 
His eyes darkened, "Oh, I do intend to have you," he replied before scooping you up effortlessly. A spontaneous giggle escaped you as your legs wrapped instinctively around his waist and your arms draped around his neck, allowing him to navigate through the cottage to your bedroom. 
The door swung open, and he crossed the room to lay you down on the bed. Standing back, he looked down at you with an intensity that made you squirm. You sat up, reaching out toward him, craving his touch. 
Remus shook his head, a playful yet firm "No," escaping his lips. He raised an eyebrow, his voice teasing, "Now, now, where are your manners, young lady?" 
Your response was an exaggerated pout, your eyes meeting his in a silent challenge. You never wanted to give in so easily, but the man before you made you quite literally fold. Despite your short-lived attempt to brat him, his presence commanded the room, and you were momentarily stunned by it. 
Remus chuckled softly. "I'll give you what you want," he assured you, "but you need to be patient. Good girls are patient." 
Patient? That word simply wasn't part of your vocabulary. You tried again to reach for him, your hands stretching out, seeking him. But in a swift movement, you were pushed back onto the bed, your hands pinned above your head as he hovered above you. 
"And what did we just learn about patience?" he teased. 
Your breath caught, your mind going blank. "T-that it's supposed to be...rewarding?" you stammered. 
"Very good," Remus smiled, leaning closer so that his lips nearly brushed against yours. He began removing your clothes, each movement calculated and slow, torturously so, laving you increasingly exposed and vulnerable under his gaze. 
Finally bared to him, Remus began to kiss your skin softly, each kiss lingering a little longer than the last. Every so often, he left a gentle mark, a love bite that spoke of possession, love, adoration. His way of saying you belonged to him.
He slowly, agonizingly slowly, made his way down to your most sensitive area, his breath teasing you. 
"Remus, please," you whispered. "I can't take it anymore. Please." 
"Shh," he soothed, his breath teasing you again as he spoke. "I've got you." 
You gasped as your felt his tongue tease at your clit, your hips bucking up involuntarily. He swiftly pinned you back down and pulled back. 
"Ah, ah, ah," he said, "it seems someone is forgetting the rules. Patience, my love, is a virtue." 
"But Remus- Ah..." you moaned as he used his fingers to spread you open and allow for better access. The tip of his tongue flicked against your sensitive flesh, and a finger was teasing at your entrance. 
"Remus..." you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair. You felt his lips curl into a smile against you. He trailed his tongue down to your entrance, poking at it, exploring, tasting, savouring, and pushed in. His finger worked your clit gently, barely touching it. 
Your hips bucked again, and this time he allowed it. He hummed against you and began to slide his tongue in and out while simultaneously rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body was tensing now, your back arching as the pleasure began to build. 
Your legs were spread wide, shamelessly, your hips thrusting upward to meet his movements. But Remus is patient. And Remus knows what he is doing. His finger brushes against your clit more firmly, yet not enough. It's teasing, tormenting, and making you yearn for his touch even more. 
"Remus...Remus Please." Your voice is breathless, your hands clenched tightly into the blankets. 
Remus grins against your skin. He has you exactly where he wants you. He uses the tip of his tongue to swirl around your clit, then flicking over it quickly before retreating. A finger teases your entrance before venturing inside as he increases the pressure of his tongue. You cry out, your body tightening as your climax nears. 
With one last flick of his tongue, he pushes you over the edge, your body shuddering as your orgasm rips through you. You breath hitches, your back arching off the bed as you try to hold onto consciousness. 
Before you could even form a thought, Remus' clothes had vanished, and he was pushing your legs apart with a growl, his length pressing insistently against your core. He was hungry, keeping his eyes locked onto yours as he slowly entered you. 
"You feel so good," he breathed. Your eyes fluttered close as he began to thrust inside you. Slowly. Lovingly. He leaned in to capture your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on him. You moaned into the kiss as he buried himself fully within your warmth. 
He groans as he feels your tight, wet heat around him, and his movement become more urgent, his body rocking against yours with increasing speed. 
"Don't stop Remus..." you moaned as you felt your second orgasm begin to crest. 
He picked up the pace, gripping your waist with a bruising force and slamming into you, his movements bordering desperation. 
You clenched around him, moaning his name as you reached your peak again. The sensation made him growl, and his body tensed as he spilled within you, his movements finally slowing down. He collapsed on top of you, his breathing ragged and his heart pounding against your chest. 
"Happy birthday, beautiful," he whispered in your ear. "I told you, patience is a virtue." 
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chlobliviate · 4 months ago
Text
Wolfstar Microfics - Bronze
words: 785
@wolfstarmicrofic
🌙✨🌙✨🌙
It was the summer before sixth year, Sirius was finally living with the Potters and everything was looking up. His nightmares were less frequent, he was sleeping more and eating an amount fit for a teenage boy. Effie was trying to teach him to cook and some of it was going in. It really seemed like the perfect summer.
Until Remus returned from France, Lyall Lupin had ministry work in Marseille for almost five weeks, meaning that Sirius hadn’t seen Remus in over a month. He did notice that he didn’t care as much about not seeing Pete for over a month but shrugged it off as a canine camaraderie thing.
When Remus popped out of the grand fireplace in the drawing room, Sirius was speechless. Remus, with his sandy hair and his pink cheeks, was now all shades of bronze. He had freckles.
James seemed to sense that they’d be getting no sense out of Sirius for a little while, “Fuck, Moony. You’re all… Did you just lie under the sun the whole time?”
“Reading in the sun is the best way to spend a summer.” Remus looked curiously at Sirius. “Maybe not if you’re as pale as you, Pads. You’d just burn.”
“He’d go a glorious pink!” James said proudly. “Want a cuppa?”
“Yeah, I’d love one. Thanks, Prongs.” Remus dropped his bag onto the floor by the sofa as James bustled off to make the tea. “Pete not here yet?”
Sirius shook his head trying to tear his eyes away from Remus’ face, “Nah, he’s getting here about six. His mum has a thing or something.”
Remus nodded, “How’s your summer been? Hope you didn’t miss me too much.”
“Honestly, best summer ever.” Sirius finally relaxed, “I still don’t feel like it’s real. I keep expecting to wake up back at Grimmauld Place.”
“You never need to wake up there again,” Remus said softly, and Sirius smiled at him. “Thanks for writing to me, by the way. Not that being in Marseilles wasn’t great, but Dad had work and then with Mum having to go back and care for Nana, it was lonely.”
“Oh, no problem. Thanks for writing back. Hope it didn’t interrupt your tanning sessions.”
“Do I really look that different?” Remus chewed on the side of his lip.
“You’re all… bronze. Your hair, your face. It’s wild. Your scars being paler than your skin is weird. In a good way!” He added hastily, “It suits you.”
“Well, thanks.” Remus could feel his face growing even darker. “It’s a shame we’re about to go back to Scottish Autumn.”
“You could find one of those muggle squirty tans.”
Remus chuckled, “Nah, I don’t think that’s for me. I’ll just fade back to pale Remus and it’ll be like it never happened.”
Sirius tried to understand why he didn’t like that thought. He liked this new confident, smiling Remus. Would that also fade with the tan? Or was that just a consequence of spending several weeks alone in France? The thought that maybe he’d met a nice French girl made his stomach churn. It would explain a lot about the way Remus carried himself now.
James came back with a tea tray. “Mum and Dad are out tonight, but Mum made us dinner before she left so we won’t starve.”
“Hey, I can cook now!” Sirius snapped, to Remus’ surprise.
“Making pasta bake and egg fried rice is not the same as being able to cook.” James sighed.
“But it’s more than you can do, Prongs.” Remus smiled at Sirius. “And you’ve lived with your mum for sixteen and a half years.”
“Ugh, I should have known you pair of dogs would start ganging up on me within minutes of getting here.” James poured the tea into three mugs carefully. “Just wait until Lily starts spending time with us, then I’ll have someone on my side.”
“Firstly, you wish, and secondly, bold of you to assume she wouldn’t side with Moony.” Sirius gestured at him, “Especially when he looks like this!”
James gave him a strange look before turning back to Remus, “How were the French girls?” He waggled his eyebrows, “Any French stories to tell?”
Remus said nothing, but a smile teased at one corner of his mouth, and Sirius suddenly panicked. He picked up his mug and took a sip, even though it was way too hot. “Don’t hassle the man, James. Just because you’re not getting any!”
“Oh, because you are?” James said, at the same time Remus nodded at him in silent thanks. “Honestly, Moony, can you teach Sirius to be better at silencing charms while you’re here?”
Sirius choked on his tea.
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