floa12
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“Your dry wit does not help me, Moony!” James twisted to frown at him, threading his hands through his thick hair in visible distress. “I just want to understand what I’m doing wrong! Do I not shower her with affection? Do I not give her flowers? Do I not write poems–”
“I didn’t know you’d written poems.” Peter popped his head up from the armchair with a loud, resounding hiccup. “What kind of poems?”
“Limericks, mostly.” sighed James. “The occasional haiku if I’m feeling inspired.”
“Let me try.” Slouching against the sofa, Sirius grinned, his legs spread wide. “There once was a redhead named Lily, who made young James Potter act silly! She jinxed him with bats and bogeys and rats, but James only thought with his willy!”
Remus threw a cushion at Sirius’ face.
The summer of '76. Remus wants Sirius. Sirius doesn't know what he wants.
Bookmarked by floa12
12 Jul 2026
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"If he closed his eyes, he could have been there again, back in the cold river, water rising up to his shoulders, with a beautiful boy who wouldn’t leave him alone."
It is 1865.
Stuck in his house with his overbearing parents, Remus Lupin cannot shake the feeling that he's missing something.
Returning from abroad after the death of his mother, Sirius Black is now the owner of a massive estate and he has the attitude to match. He has everything, including people who are determined to take everything from him.
It takes seconds for Remus to know he will never hate anyone as much as he does Sirius Black.
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Bookmarked by floa12
06 Jul 2026
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A shiver trembles through Sirius, racing up his spine, and he blames the crisp air. Remus leans closer, and his lips are parting-- and Sirius shrieks as a chunk of wet, numbing snow is rubbed into his cheek. He squirms beneath him, twisting his head away, but Remus only presses him harder into the glacial ground.
When Remus sits back, Sirius glowers darkly, using his freed arm to wipe his face with his sleeve. He can't quite remember how to breathe, and Remus is still over him, their legs tangled and bent at odd angles.
"You were a lot nicer to me when you were sick." Sirius says.
"I was weak." Remus smiles, and the warmth from his body fades as he gets to his feet. "Don't get used to it."
Of pub quizzes, old films, Chinese takeaways, broken arms, and impassioned discussions of literature: Remus is confusing, and Sirius is just trying to figure him out.
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When a craze for pulpy romance novels about Dark Creatures starts in Gryffindor, Sirius reads one about a werewolf -- and decides to write a better one.
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Remus is sick and very pissy. Fortunately, Sirius has ideas which may or may not include a shirtless werewolf.
Bookmarked by floa12
25 Jun 2026