ohyou-pretty-things

[ohyou-pretty-things]

Love❤️❤️❤️

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i do think you have to be a bit pathetic to be truly hot

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Livre de la Vigne nostre Seigneur; France, 15th century; Bodleian Library, MS. Douce 134, f. 49v

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Thistle's Moony's Midlife Crisis Fest Rec List Part 1

Instead of endlessly angsting about how I can't make the rec list I wanted (detailed, having read every single fic etc) I decided to make the task smaller for myself and just start. (Yeah, yeah, there's a lesson there.)

Here are four of my favorite wolfstar Muggle AUs in the fest:

Inconsequential at First, Maddening at Length by youprettythings (47k, E) @ohyou-pretty-things

Tags include: Old Married Couple Behavior, Teddy Lupin is a Little Shit, featuring Remus 'What do you mean it's not normal to zoom in on photos of your BFF' Lupin

r/relationship_advice Original posted on December 5, 2021: I think I (51M) am falling for my son's friend's dad, what do I do?

Such a wonderful romance! I was completely swept up in the reality and intensity of their feelings. I also completely laughed out loud in parts. 

The Art of Quitting by missmoonfrost (E, 9k) @missmoonfrost

Tags include: Sober Alcoholic Remus Lupin, Sirius Black has a Limp Dick, Remus Lupin Has Self-Esteem Issues

Remus lives a lonely quiet life as an English teacher, actively trying to avoid having to do new things or meet new people. His never ending fails to quit smoking takes him to a support group that he hates, but one very special participant charm him in ways he can’t withstand and he soon agrees to things he never thought he would do, just to try and win the heart of Sirius Black.

So funny and charming and delightful and features one of my new favorite tags: Sirius Black has a Limp Dick. 

Truth Coming Out of Her Well by FivePips (M, 5k)

Tags include: Epistolary, Past Child Abuse, References to Drugs, References to Suicide, Rehab, Catholic Guilt

At 35, Remus finds out that the man who repeatedly raped him between the ages of 7 and 12, has finally been caught. He deals with the fall out in ways he is very familiar with. An old partner/friend returns around the same time and offers a surprising amount of support. How can Remus finally crawl out of the the bottom of the well he's been living in? He finally takes the chance to start climbing.

CSA survivor Remus Lupin is so near and dear to my heart. I love what the author did with my prompt here, and the epistolary format works perfectly. 

A Bridge Over Troubled Water by sliebman10 (17k, E) @sliebman10

Tags include: Grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, chronic illness, older characters

When Teddy suggests Remus move into a retirement community, he's skeptical. After all, he's lived on his own for years. But he moves in and finds new friends and activities. When he meets Sirius, he finds that you're never too old to fall in love.

I teared up! An actually older wolfstar older wolfstar! Gives us all hope for what life could be like in the sunset years. 

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This drove me wild and checked all of my boxes. Witty, self-deprecating Remus. Independent, sensual Sirius. Roses. Gardening. Silk robes. So much pining. Absolute poetry.

𝐀 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairings: Remus Lupin x Sirius Black, Past Remus Lupin x Nymphadora Tonks

Rating: Explicit

Vibes: Non-Magical AU, Divorced Remus, Late Queer Awakenings, Neighbours, Ten Years of Pining and Sexual Tension, Sirius has range: from Silk Robes to Motorbikes, Remus Lupin is Pathetic and Obsessed

Author Notes: Written for @moonyfest 2025!

Summary:

Remus Lupin knows better than to touch Sirius Black—but watching? That’s harder to resist.

Ten years. One silk-robed neighbour. More windows than sense.

After his divorce and belated coming out, Remus collects firsts, lasts, and everything messy in-between. Friends joke that his love life spins like the revolving doors at the Ritz, but one desire stays constant: Sirius—his tattooed neighbour who refuses most clothing, lives in silk robes, and somehow keeps getting finer (and more risqué) with time.

And for over a decade, their flirtation has smouldered—sometimes scorching other relationships in its wake—while Remus holds himself back. After all, he was the one who first shut the metaphorical door in Sirius’s face. For ten years, he’s believed all that's left are stolen, shame-filled, yearning glances of Sirius, taken in through windows and from a distance. But Sirius knows most doors don’t stay closed—and exactly how to coax one, make it beg to open. This is the story of Remus’s forty-third birthday. Of the years after a marriage ends and a life begins in the middle of things: of queer joy growing like blue irises, of fatherhood, of desire, and of learning to forgive oneself for old punishments.

Snippet:

Then Remus let himself peek out of his second-floor bedroom window, as a little treat. Dragged his eyes around, slow and indulgent, until they landed—of course—on the object of most of his ire and interest: Sirius Black.

And as always, he was there—surveying his garden, hose swung around one hand. He’d once overheard Sirius tell someone that it was good to water your Hydrangea canes in the Spring, even if it was too cold for anything else.

Today, he was draped in an olive robe, gorgeous gold embroidery on the sleeves, surprisingly modest compared to the usual get-up.

Remus let himself enjoy this one—like it was the first, deep hit off a quitter’s last cigarette.

And he was quitting something that day. So he let his eyes trace over the man, luxuriating in the distance.

Sirius was tall, lithe, moved every muscle with a practiced grace that was intoxicating. And as he moved, the art that skated over most of his skin seemed to rise, to move and dance with him. Remus knew some of them now— the tattoos that were usually kept at such a distance and made Remus’s mouth water. He’d seen some up closer, even, over the years. But as always, he craved to know how they might feel, under his tongue, against his cheek.

He craved to know what any of Sirius might feel like. They hadn’t even shaken hands once, in the ten years of being neighbours.

But that was what made this little look Remus was taking so good, wasn’t it?

Somewhere around that thought was when Sirius looked up, met his gaze. Let a lazy smirk twist around his mouth and lifted his hand in a flippant wave, a flash of an emerald ring on one of his fingers.

Then he stared at Remus as he took a seat at his patio table, flung his legs up into another chair and slowly let his hair out of his bun.

Remus gulped, even if he already knew this show was for him.

Somewhere along the road, Sirius figured out that Remus maybe, perhaps, obviously, liked long hair. And so sometimes, when they were in broad daylight, and he was sure Remus was watching, he would give him this—like a naughty present.

His hands untangling his hair, then tying it back up again. Oil-slick blue-green-black. The way it curled and softly brushed against skin. How it begged—to be twisted. Pulled.

Remus laughed at the absurdity, even as he felt something predictably tighten between his legs. He was used to this provocation now. It’d been this way—worse even—for years. He’d known he was fucked when it came to Sirius almost immediately. But the gravity of it had mounted year after year of living so close to each other—of letting something simmer between them but then barely using their words to make it spark.

And because it was only seven am, and he had his whole day ahead, he felt no need to rush Sirius.

He kept watching. Cocked his head to the side, let his tongue flick out to lick his chapped lip, slowly took a sip of water out of his cup and let a hand almost palm himself lightly.

Smiled innocently back when Sirius’s hands seemed to stutter for a second.

This is what they did. No words, just this maddening, escalating exposure.

Sirius let his hands move naturally from his scalp, down to his neck, as if he were just making an adjustment to the green robe he wore. Tugged it a bit to the side, as if his chest needed to feel a touch of cool breeze. And Remus grinned, because he knew the green definitely was for him. So he let himself run a hand down his body, and lightly, but clearly. Reached his destination and gave one firm squeeze.

Sirius seemed to exhale a very deep breath with that.

And the Lenten rose pink blush that bloomed across his cheekbones: that was a great birthday present.

Remus felt like his heart was racing. He liked when he won one of these bouts fair and square.

Check. Mate. Black.

Or whatever.

Because they had been playing this game for years. Remus just didn’t know if there were any rules. 

Read from the start on A03

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👅

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what? oh sweetheart no, you're not weirding me out at all. you're weirding me in. keep talking, freak

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'Infinity spiral'. Francisco Infante-Arana. 1965.

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don’t flirt with me I’ll start imagining you in my little delusional scenarios before bed

[ohyou-pretty-things]

☆⏾𐂂 ☆⏾𐂂 ☆⏾𐂂

love in the afternoon by @diamondmeadow

“You can't be serious!” One look at Sirius tells Remus he absolutely is. A quirked eyebrow, challenging eyes.  “Oh, god.” James is standing on the porch, watching their conversation unfold in the kitchen with an innocent expression. Padfoot at his feet, all clueless, bless him, is wagging his tail, teeth digging into a plush toy James has been using to play fetch with him.  Remus steps closer towards the garden door as if to seek some moral support from the man and the dog outside. Instead, he is momentarily distracted by the way James looks. Because, to Remus’ chagrin, that’s suddenly a (real) thing.  Tanned thighs clad in rugby shorts. A thin tank top.  June is exceptionally hot this year. 

read here on ao3 36k ⏾ (e) wolfstarbucks for @moonyfest

☆⏾𐂂 ☆⏾𐂂 ☆⏾𐂂

When Remus hauled the last box over the threshold of a picturesque cottage in Cotswolds less than two years ago, he thought it was the last time he had to move. For a long time or perhaps ever.

Well, as it turns out, it wasn’t forever nor even for a particularly long time.

[ohyou-pretty-things]

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡 “Isn’t that interesting?” Sirius murmured beside him, leaning in to smell some gladiolus. Remus watched him, his face in profile, his nose straight, his pale skin flawless. Perfect.  His voice sounded as if he were a million miles away from Remus.  There was a bump in the bridge of his own nose, and old, ugly scars that would forever mar his face. Without those flaws, he would have never met his future wife. Teddy would never have been born, and he wouldn’t be here now, falling apart in the middle of a florist‘s shop.  He sniffed quietly and let his hand fall to his side, a crushed, red petal in his fist. 

read here on AO3 (e) 47k for @moonyfest & @magicbeings

Remus Lupin, widower, was fifty-one and semi-retired.

Teddy, his son, was concerned.

When Teddy suggested that he do something with his free time, Remus suddenly found himself in the middle of building a greenhouse, woefully out of his depth.

Cue his son’s best friend's father, Sirius Black, whom he had only met in passing. Funerals, birthdays and graduations—the usual.

Now, Remus agreed to accept his help.

Build a greenhouse together, be done with it.

Alright, so maybe he agreed to partake in bizarre weekly activities with Sirius.

What he didn’t agree to was having a latent queer midlife crisis.

Or

r/relationship_advice Original posted on December 5, 2021: I think I (51M) am falling for my son's friend's dad, what do I do?

• the late life friends to lovers sexual crisis fic you’ve been waiting for! featuring : Remus 'What do you mean it's not normal to zoom in on photos of your BFF' Lupin

[ohyou-pretty-things]

Set of glazed ceramic tiles, 17th century, originating from the Netherlands. Collection: Museum Rotterdam.⁣

[ohyou-pretty-things]

The Four Sacred Artistic Motives:

-what if this bad thing was good instead

-how about Make-Believe Land can have whatever I want

-would that be fucked up or what

-I think that shit's hot

[ohyou-pretty-things]

Hello Wolfstar Lovers!

Tired of fests and events yet? No? Neither are we!

Introducing the Old Dogs Fest 2026!

This Valentine’s Day, we intend to celebrate older Wolfstar in all of their (dubious) glory!

Below you can find our schedule, and here you can find our Linktree with all of the fest’s social media accounts and our Guidebook in it. Discord server coming very soon...

We hope you’ll all join us!

Your Mods, @goldenprophetwrites @tealeavesandtrash (tumblr) @magicbeings (tiktok) @ixiedust-writes (instagram)

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Eliot Porter. Crabs and Shells, Maine, August 1942.