#REMUS!!!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Stranded on a Desert Island

@wolfstarmicrofic May 17, word count 498

“Cowards!!!” Sirius screamed at the retreating ship. “Don’t pretend like you all don’t get up to stuff behind closed doors. You’re only sore that I got Remus!!!!” But they either couldn’t hear him or they didn’t care. 

He and Remus had been caught by one of the little underlings of the first mate, entangled together in Sirius’s bunk. The captain had been informed of their fornication and had promptly headed for the first patch of sand in the middle of the ocean he could find. 

Pirates, you see, had no scruples about stranding their best men on godforsaken strips of land in the middle of the ocean. They had nothing but the clothes on their backs and the knife that Sirius always had stuck in his boot, nothing else. 

While he’d been shouting profanity at the ship they’d called home for the past seven years, Remus had been pulling the fibres from fallen coconuts and putting them into neat little piles. “What are you doing?” He asked Remus, poking the toe of his boot at the edge of the dry fibres. 

“Making rope, so I can make a net, so we can fish.” Remus explained without looking up. 

“Are you not even the least bit bothered that we are marooned, stranded, castaway?! We have no way of getting off this island, Remus!” Sirius was perplexed at Remus’s calmness. Remus looked up at him as though he thought he was an idiot. 

“Which is exactly why I’m doing this,” He said. “Then I’m going to build us a shelter so we have somewhere to sleep. If you could go and collect firewood that would be a big help.” He went back to his fibre stripping.

Sirius stomped off into the tropical trees that somehow grew on this sandy place. 

The island was bigger than he’d thought, and he soon became lost in the foliage. He’d lost sight of the beach a while ago and couldn’t figure out which way was the way out. He was trying not to freak out. Remus would find him. 

“Remus!!!” He eventually shouted when the sky began to darken. “REMUS!!!” His feet hurt and the pile of wood he clung to had gotten almost too heavy to carry. “Remus!” He sobbed. 

“What?!” Came the familiar voice through the thicket. 

“Remus?!” He called again, tears flowing freely down his face. He crashed through the ferns towards the voice. 

The plant life gave way and his boots sunk into white sand. To his right, a few yards down the beach, stood Remus with two fish skewered on long sticks, and a small fire burning beside him. “REMUS!!!” Sirius cried, overjoyed at the sight of him. He dropped the sticks and sprinted across the sand. Luckily, Remus had the foresight to put the fish down and step away from the fire as Sirius leapt into his arms the second he was within range. He kissed the man he loved passionately, so glad to have found him again. 

[mo0nagedaydr3am]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE CASANOVA OF GRYFFINDOR TOWER AND THE LOVE OF MY LIFE REMUS LUPIN 🫶

[shostakobitchh]

chapter 41 sneak peek!

Remus was late.

In his defense, it had not been his fault. Receiving an Owl from Albus Dumbledore in the middle of the night had not been expected in the slightest. It had sent Remus whirling through time, when people had done such things — sent him Owls — needed him for some reason or another.

He’d been working as a mover in London at night, a bookkeeper by day. He’d found it best to take Muggle jobs, and the extra stamina and strength due to his condition made hard labor most Muggles avoided rather easy for Remus. He never slept more than four hours at a time, so when he got home to his studio apartment (James would’ve called it a studio shithole) around five in the morning, he felt well rested enough after a cup of cheap coffee to head to his daytime job.

That night, however, sleep had not found Remus. He had sat with the letter in his hands as the sun crept up, lighting up the dirty window to his apartment. He hadn’t noticed until his usual alarm for work had gone off and left him scrambling. The last letter he had received from Albus had been to tell him that James and Lily and Peter had been killed. Remus hadn’t known who was behind it — aside from Voldemort — until he’d opened up the Daily Prophet to his mugshot.

He’d nearly fallen off the Knight Bus — which he’d avoided if he could, already familiar with the most unsavory characters of the wizarding world, who he was happy to report he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade — his nerves fraying his thoughts. Albus had asked to meet Remus in Diagon Alley, at the Leaky Cauldron, which wasn’t as nearly as discreet as the places he’d traveled to during the War. The upheaval from place to place, time after time, had felt familiar, in a distant sense. Time was a fickle thing, anyway. Albus had often remarked that they were all at its mercy.

As Remus made his way through the crowded bar, he couldn't help but feel that familiar surge of anxiety and adrenaline that had accompanied him through wartime. Albus was waiting for him in a secluded booth at the back of the tavern, hunched over a steaming mug of tea, his eyes twinkling as he looked up at Remus.

The pub was unusually quiet. The bartender, Remus noticed, had been drying the same glass for quite a while as he hung up his cloak by the door. He was staring at Albus, who stuck out like a sore thumb in the dim light of the pub, sporting sky-blue robes with clouds on the sleeves. If Remus looked close enough, he could’ve sworn that they were moving.

The last time Remus had seen Albus had been at Lily and James’ funeral. He barely remembered the day at all, lost in a haze of grief and rage, but he had recalled Albus hand on his shoulder, firm and steady, steadier than anyone else seemed to have been.

“Remus,” Albus said in a cheerful voice, reaching toward him to take Remus’ hand in both of his hands. “It’s delightful to see you again — albeit, I regret that it’s not under better circumstances.”

“Likewise,” he gripped his hand back, and maybe it was Remus’ imagination, but Albus’ grip was firmer than he remembered. He almost didn’t hear the last part, but before he could ask, Albus was buying him a drink. Remus accepted, not that he had much of a say in the matter, feeling his nerves settle slightly at the warmth of the alcohol.

"I'm surprised you're not partaking," Remus gestured to the tea. He was good at smalltalk, and something told him that Albus wasn’t simply here on a social call.

Albus chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, I’m afraid it just doesn’t have the same kick as it used to.” he said with a smile. He took a thoughtful sip of his drink, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "You know, I must confess that Aberforth is the only one who serves a drink strong enough to truly satisfy my taste."

Remus chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Ah, Aberforth's special concoctions. I've heard they can make even the bravest of souls wobble on their feet." He recalled James swinging back something one of the patrons had suggested at Aberforth’s pub, just after they’d graduated from Hogwarts. Remus remembered what James hadn’t, which was James singing to all of Hogsmeade in the middle of the damn night. He’d been too drunk to Apparate, even with Remus. He’d ended up calling —

No, he didn’t think of that name anymore, a name lost with time and something far more sinister.

Albus nodded, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "It takes a certain fortitude to handle Aberforth's libations. I had heard you were bartending in London for a good while.”

“I was,” Remus admitted. “It was an… interesting experience. It was short-lived after someone found out about my condition. All that talk wasn’t very good for business.”

“I see.” Remus could’ve sworn that the clouds on Albus’ robes darkened into storm clouds. “What happened, if I might ask?”

“Someone from the Ministry who dabbles in Creature Control recognized my face.”

Albus only shook his head, the ghost of a pitiful smile on his lips. “I am sorry, my friend. While your condition is certainly manageable, it would seem the same cannot be said for narrowmindedness.”

Remus shrugged, a touch of self-deprecation in his voice. "When the word werewolf got out, the customers became a tad too cautious about the moon phases. I suppose they didn't quite trust me to serve them a drink without a side of howling."

[nareclipwse]

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[thatboisus]

“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.

[justafanbutcurious]

[aphrcdites]

the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

[bloodbruise]

the bitches traumatized by saltburn would never survive the fics in my ao3 history

[lovelyspooks]

Me at 3am clicking “keep reading” on the most jaw dropping, earth shattering, pantie dropping, smutty fic when I have to be up in 3 hours

[industrations]

[doodlemcjazzhands]

Wolfstar Sketches

[mentallyadinonugget]

[outromoony]

Me when the slow burn is slow burning

[bethsvrse]

pov: I find a good smut fic but it includes a daddy kink