acciowerner
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Remus has always believed that December is the Hall's very best month. It's like the place was built to have boughs of holly and fir strung from every wall sconce and picture rail; like its architect, all those hundreds of years ago, designed it specifically to bear the big, fat garlands he and Lily wind around its balustrades and bannisters, and the jolly wreaths that they hoist into place on every door, and the towering, beribboned tree that stands proudly in the hotel reception and takes four of them a whole afternoon to decorate.
A country hotel in the wintertime. Plenty of snow, plenty of mulled wine, and a feeling that this Christmas might be different.
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Bookmarked by acciowerner
05 Feb 2026
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It's a tiny little place, squeezed between a bookstore and a small café advertising herbal teas and fruit scones. The frontage - which Remus is quite certain used to be a peeling, sun-flaked shade of orange - is now a deep black, dark as the Whitby jet in the shop up the hill, and the bay window has been filled up with all manner of trinkets; tiny wooden boxes engraved with ivies and vines, and leather-bound books and silver knots worked into rings and necklace pendants, and little pools of crystal stones in lavender and plum and delicate, glossy rose-pink.
Remus is a lonely painter. Sirius is a shopkeeper who might just have a solution for that. Summertime on the Yorkshire coast, with crystals, and candle-smoke, and sunshine.
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- English
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Bookmarked by acciowerner
05 Feb 2026
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He remembers when he first heard him, and how he'd been quite unable to do much of anything other than sit there in the stalls in awe as he watched the choir's rehearsal play out, a fourth year pianist accompanying a devastating solo from Remus that had every student and teacher holding their breath. The sheer depth of it; the way it seemed to reverberate through the ancient boards of the very stage itself, from somewhere primal and secret inside him. And how it seemed to take him no effort whatsoever, and how his presence felt no less monumental for it.
A winter term at The Ullswater Institute: late-night rehearsals, dormitory karaoke, and secrets, kept in the labyrinthine corridors underneath the cavernous, frescoed auditorium.
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- English
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- 30,973
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- 4/4
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Bookmarked by acciowerner
05 Feb 2026
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There are a few things Sirius really didn't count on for Christmas of 1979. The extreme sexual confusion is one of them; Remus Lupin is approximately seventy-eight of the rest.
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Bookmarked by acciowerner
10 Feb 2025
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Sirius rides a flying motorbike, and snogs strangers in pubs, and strikes moody poses Remus finds irritatingly attractive. But for Remus, who drinks milky tea and wears flannel pyjamas, there's a chasm cracked right down the fault line between wanting and doing.
How he wants, though. How he wants.
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- English
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- 43,240
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- 10/10
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Bookmarked by acciowerner
14 Jan 2025