Oh My Gosshhhh I Lovee It!!! Its Way Tooo Amazing!!!

i beg of you, plz do watch 'we are lady parts'!!!!!!!!!!

btw im in LOVE with this woman <3<3<3

SARAH KAMEELA IMPEY  as Saira in We Are Lady Parts (2021 — )

sirius tho-

:))))

We burned just like the stars / That never die / We were so young

Marauders! ft James & Remus with heart eyes for certain someones,,

(a snippet from the same unpublished raising harry AU except make it wolfstar for all of you who have been suffering through shitposts, have a treat for sticking around <3)

context: sirius and harry relocate to grimmauld place.

-

“Are you sure you’re going to be--”

“Ask me that one more time, Remus,” Sirius said harsher than he intended.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright here?”

“Arse.”

Remus gave him a wry grin over his glass of wine, lips already stained berry from the glass he had before, looking perfectly relaxed on the opposite end of the couch from Sirius. “Still haven’t answered the question.”

“I’m not sure I have an answer.”

Remus clicked his tongue, “You always have an answer. An opinion. It’s one of my favorite things about you, even if it is frustrating.”

“Am I frustrating you?”

“Every second since I met you,” he said, and Sirius opened his mouth, Remus holding up a finger immediately before Sirius could say a single word, “And before you respond with something clever regarding your time prison, no the 12 years there were not any sort of reprieve. Every time I thought I had gotten rid of the traces of you….one more would appear. Dog hair on my clothes, a neatly folded sweater, one year I even found an old letter you wrote me from hols when we were fifteen.”

“Well at least I know I won’t have to become a ghost to haunt you when I die…” Sirius mused, giving Remus a wink before taking a sip of his own wine. 

“...Are you going to be alright here?” Remus asked for the third time, and Sirius actually laughed, watching as Remus’s smile split his face wide open and suddenly Sirius was fifteen again, sitting across the Gryffindor common room with a quiet, golden boy who had the best barbs tucked away behind books and big sweaters. 

Sirius laughed quietly, looking up at the mantle where the ticking clock was. Sirius missed the stained glass windows already and the handsome emerald green clock and the soft beige rug that was in the sitting room at his home by the seaside. And then he thought of Harry’s smile when they arrived that day, trunks in hand, Harry rushing to the backyard to go flying, leaving his trunk in the middle of the hall.

It annoyed Sirius that Harry did that at first, because trunks didn’t belong in the middle of walkways and Sirius had told him to bring it up to the bedroom he had chosen the last time they had come together. Harry had blindly chosen a bedroom then as well, waving Sirius away with his hand and just nodding along, more interested in the backyard and his firebolt. 

It annoyed Sirius, and then…it didn’t.

It was so normal. As if Harry had been leaving his things around and Sirius had been getting mildly irritated for their whole lives. 

He thought of Harry’s messy hair and flushed cheeks when he finally came inside after Sirius had called him for dinner twice. Remus had come over to help them settle in, so had Andromeda, Sirius offering dinner in exchange, the table that Sirius had eaten lonely meals at just a few months ago feeling much bigger. 

“I think so,” is what Sirius settled on.

“Were you thinking that entire time?”

“Oi!”

“It was a long pause, thought you had fallen asleep.”

“I believe that’s your modus operandi, Moony,” Sirius said so easily, the nickname fizzling into the air like smoke after a firework. “Remus,” he corrected when he realized his fumble. Remus. 

“I can be Moony…I…missed being Moony.” Remus cleared his throat, “I missed you.”

“Remus…”

“I can’t tell you that? I can’t tell you how I missed you? And even though the dog hair on my clothes and the sweaters and the stupid notes you used to write me were frustrating to find…they also made me miss you? Can I not tell you I thought about you every day for almost 13 years?”

“You can tell me whatever you’d like,” Sirius said, “And I’ll tell you I did the same except it’s not quite so endearing or sentimental. Because what else was I supposed to think about? You were my…you were going to be my fiancee and you didn’t even try….”

“I’m sorry.”

“I…I know.”

“Then--”

“I’m not at forgiveness yet, Remus.” Moony. Whoever you are. “I’d really like to be, but I’m not.”

“I should go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t get there.”

“You think you will? You think one day you’ll be able to look at me and want me again?”

“I want you right now. It’s not a question of want.”

Remus put down his wine glass on the end table, shifting on the couch so he was closer to Sirius, no longer on opposite ends of the couch--of the world. On the same page, in the same proximity for the first time since that night in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. The lights were dim, the clock ticked on the mantle as Remus’s knee touched Sirius’s. Amber eyes scanned his face looking for any type of sign and Sirius closed his eyes.

Moony.

“Can I hold you?” Sirius opened his eyes. “...Can I hold you?”

He breathed in deeply, already watching Remus’s hands between them, itching to touch Sirius. Sirius’s hands were longing to do the same. 

Remus was all scratchy cardigans and half-shaven face. Bumps and bruises, and Sirius remembered running his hands over every part of Remus entranced by the indentations of scar tissue and raised freckles. Nothing about Remus was smooth. Clever, but lacking social charm. Knew how to clear a room. Knew precisely the wrong thing to say at the wrong time. But their relationship had been. 

Against all odds, Sirius and Remus, Moony and Padfoot, my love and my darling, had been the smoothest course Sirius had ever sailed. 

“Can I hold you?” Remus asked one more time, even softer, his face moving closer.

“....the only thing I can think of to say is your name. Every version of it.”

“Yes…no…” Remus offered, “maybe…in a few hours…just for a second…”

“That’s a lot of options.”

“Yes or no, then.”

Yes.

Yes.

Hold me. Please. Remind me of what it was like to give my burdens to someone else to carry just for a little while.

“Yes.” 

Remus moved slowly, daring to touch Sirius’s hands first, then his wrists, thumb caressing his pulse point while long fingers skimmed over tattoos and the dark hair on his arms again. Sirius sat still, inhaling and exhaling deeply, afraid Remus was going to make him come undone with the most innocent of touches. Remus’s hands moved up to his arms and Sirius continued to fight with lingering resolve. 

It wasn’t passion, though.

No.

Not like when they were seventeen and they would take turns edging each other into madness with wanton looks in the hallway and hands in places they definitely shouldn’t have been in the middle of class, and kisses that always left someone begging for more. Or even when they were nineteen and finding intimacy in learning how to fix a leaking sink and a tiny shower that really couldn’t fit the two of them properly, but they insisted on being in there together anyway. Sirius would have to hold Remus’s arm when they got out of the shower, so much excess water on the linoleum flooring, taking care not to let his boyfriend-fiance-nearly husband slip. 

The one thing Sirius always handled with care…was Remus, and now it seemed like it was the opposite. Not that Sirius asked for it, or explicitly told Remus that.

This Remus now though, this thirty-something Remus was feeling every valley and curve of Sirius’s arms, then shoulders, moving closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart. 

Sirius inhaled.

Remus exhaled.

Sirius and Remus. One name it was always said so fast and together- SiriusandRemus, carved into trees, etched into pavement, signed on leases and wedding certificates that never came to be.

Kim Addonizio, from 'The Women', Wild Nights: New and Selected Poems/excerpt from 'The Complete Works: The Diary,' Virginia Woolf

one of my classmates called me pretty, and that made me really happy. :)

ayeeeeee!!!!!!!!!

Thankful for all of you this Thanksgiving day. <3

A.M.E.N!

J.K… even fictional characters think that Remus is gay. How can you even deny it at this point?

Sinner

I’m too loud for god. too gay. too lustful. too woman. too human.

Today is a holy night.

My mother sits and prays her night away in hopes of a better year.

I’ve been in my bed for two weeks.

drowning in work,

so suffocated in my sadness I cannot get to it.

But my drowning is normal.

My lust is silent.

And as long as my legs are covered and my hands are unseen, as long as my pain remains hidden under the sheer black bandages that are draped over my shoulders, no one will care.

My bones are hollowed, my organs emptied, my hair has fallen victim to the hunger. 

So god, will you take me?

Spare me your bullshit and let me die.

let me rest.

I was begged to pray today, to spend the night reading and pleading. 

Well, this is it. This is me pleading, this is my prayer.

I write this as I sin. I write this as I dream of the pleasure of a woman’s touch. As I dream of a queer love, a new love, a lustful love. But you should know that, you made me carry this love, then you punished me for it.

Yes, I am a sinner, I proudly choose hell, I choose its fumes, its pain, its heat. and I would do it again, and again, and again.

Because I write this as I sin. I write this as I fantasise about the sound of an ocean enveloping me or a rope hugging me into my final dream. I write this as I feel the peace of death comforting me because I know that her kiss makes me dirty.

I welcome its filth. 

ah fucking yasss!

Fucking is the only fucking word that can be put any-fucking-where and still make fucking sense.

and you said this one wouldnt be a big ouch-

its just as ouch as the other three and they ouched very bad indeed!!

The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 4

(hows remus doing? funny you should ask)

Read Parts 1-3 Here

AU in which Jily is alive and Harry chooses to stay with Wolfstar and all is not well.

tw: for alcohol use in this installment.

November 1995

It didn’t take long for Sirius to fall off the edge. It felt that Harry had barely left Remus’s office and Sirius was reaching for a bottle of firewhiskey and that was going to be an answer.

And Remus was helpless. Remus was just as ruined internally, watching his husband fall to pieces; holding his kid while he cried and apologized; dodging post from his best friends, and making excuses to keep them away.

Years of sobriety and evenings spent chatting around a record with cups of tea were scrapped and Remus stepped back into the role of holding Sirius’s hair back as he vomited into the nearest loo like he was 19 and convinced the world was ending.

So what did it matter if he spent his last moments plastered or hungover or somewhere in between? Because the world was ending.

And maybe it had, Remus catching himself looking at photographs on his desk of the three of them--so happy to have one another-- and sitting with the feeling that those days were gone. And the days of pushing Sirius into cold showers had returned when he swore that the last time had been the last time. Perhaps he should be grateful that he had gotten a fourteen-year respite period.

Fourteen-year remission was…pretty good.

What’s anything matter now? Sirius had said, words mushing together, bottle stuck to his hands and a cigarette in the other. Fire, fire, fire. Coughing after every drag because lungs weren’t prepared for the sudden attack of chemicals and heartache.

Sirius had barely been to work. The first two weeks writing saying he was ill, colleagues so concerned they sent flowers. The next one he was in and out as fast as he could be, and if anyone noticed the dark purple circles under his eyes or the knots in his hair or the way Sirius couldn’t even be bothered to clean his desk anymore, they didn’t say anything. Remus thought back to when James and Lily had first died, and they were left holding their child, and on the receiving end of sympathetic looks that made Remus want to scream. Like a muggle-circus freakshow. Come one, come all, everyone gather around and watch the worst thing that could happen, happen. Isn’t it…terrible?

It was terrible. This was worse.

“Sirius!” a voice shouted through the mirror, taken out of the back pocket of Sirius’s jeans as he pitched himself over the loo. Remus had been standing by, listening to wretching for nearly a half-hour.

Remus sighed, picking up the mirror from the bathroom floor, “Hi, Harry.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, “Where’s Sirius?”

A violent cough from the toilet.

“He’s sick, Harry.”

“Still?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded slowly, deciding this was the best course of action. Even if Remus was tempted to tell Harry the truth in hopes it would get Sirius out of the stupor he created. “Sorry. Did you need something?”

“I just…wanted to talk to him. He got sick and I haven’t…since I shouted at you both….”

“I know, love.”

“I did really well on my last Transfiguration exam…did you hear?”

Remus smiled, stepping out of the bathroom, though he kept an eye on Sirius’s body curled around the toilet as he did so, “I did. Professor McGonagall was quite impressed. Was the talk of the teacher's quarters.”

“It wasn’t that big of news...”

“I assure you it was, Hermiones got some competition if you keep that up,” Remus told him.

“I wrote James and Lily about it too,” Harry’s face was still smiling, though slightly weaker two names still feeling odd coming from his mouth. Harry had called them Mum and Dad when they were mentioned in photographs. Harry asked Remus to tell him stories about his Mum and Dad; asked about their favorite recipes and if they were smart and did his Dad have a favorite record? But now that they were here, in actuality, Remus watched Harry retreat into himself, wary of the situation entirely, taking cues from himself and Sirius.

Mum and Dad...I just doesn't feel right…I can’t explain it.

“James said…well, I remember you telling me he was good at Transfiguration?”

“He was, probably is still, I just haven’t asked him to transfigure anything recently.”

The gagging stopped from the bathroom.

“Do I…Sirius is okay, right?”

“He’s okay, Harry.”

“Like, I don’t need to be…like he’s not going to have to go to St. Mungos for a while, right? Like for a disease no one knows about? It’s…just a cold and he’s…being stubborn?”

Remus laughed, “He’s being very stubborn and refusing to take potions to help him.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, “HEY! STOP BEING A TWAT!”

“Harry,” Remus said lightly but was relieved hearing a small chuckle from Sirius’s direction. He watched as Sirius managed to pick his head up off the porcelain, looking towards Remus with watering, bloodshot eyes, one of his hands extended in his direction. Remus was tempted to hand Sirius the mirror but thought better of it as another cough emerged from the depths of his husband.

“Did that work? Is he well enough to scold me?”

“How about you call again tomorrow and we’ll both tell you to watch your mouth, hm?”

Harry nodded, “Okay. I love you? I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

Remus hated how a statement had become a question. Harry checking for confirmation from the people who had raised him if the love was still there or if it had vanished the moment paperwork was passed. Remus had been doing his best to ensure Harry didn’t have to go searching and asking for love, but it was hard when Remus was doing it alone. Something about Sirius always being the one to hold things in place, Harry and Remus both moving in the world uncertain and wishing they had the confidence of Sirius. Taking strength and courage when they needed it, only now…

Courage had been flushed down the toilet.

Sirius had nothing left to give or loan out to anyone.

“You will. I love you very much. We love you very much.”

The mirror went dark.

Sirius’s outstretched hand dropped on the tile floor once more.

The wretching had finished.

Remus almost preferred those noises to the sobs that replaced them.

--

“Is Sirius still mad? I thought we were going to try to all…work it out,” Lily asked, eyeing the empty chair next to Remus where Sirius was supposed to be at their dinner table. A Saturday after a Quidditch game that Sirius had missed. The first one ever, and it Remus swore he could hear his heart break alongside Harry’s when green eyes searched the stand for someone who wasn’t going to show.

Remus laughed shortly, “Sirius isn’t mad. Sirius is drunk. Sirius hasn’t been sober in weeks and--”

James sighed, “He always did know how to throw an expert fit... Does this…happen a lot?”

Remus’s expression darkened. Hairs prickling up on his arms. “You do not know how wrong you are.”

You remember seventeen, and eighteen and nineteen. But you weren’t there I didn’t get out of bed for weeks, consumed with grief and cries from an infant that only stopped when Sirius held him. You weren’t there when Sirius was the only thing propping us up.

James slowed his movements, fork hovering mid-air, “I’m…okay, maybe--”

“I could count on one hand the number of times Sirius has gotten drunk since Harry’s been with us. One hand. And one of those was our fucking wedding,” Remus pushed himself away from the table roughly shaking his head, “I’m suddenly not hungry at all.”

“Remus, we didn’t mean anything by it,” Lily tried reaching her hand out to catch Remus’s arm, but she missed. Hitting nothing but air.

“Didn’t you? Ever stop to think about why he’s drinking in the first place?”

--

“I’m sorry,” Sirius mumbled into the side of Remus’s neck for the thousandth time that evening, arms wrapped around Remus’s torso tightly as they sat in an armchair together in Remus’s quarters at Hogwarts. It wasn’t exactly an easy fit, Sirius’s legs thrown over Remus’s lap, and still hanging off the edge; Remus’s arm sandwiched between Sirius’s chest and his own torso, unable to move except for fingertips. Sirius plastered to Remus like moss on the side of the tree and Remus couldn’t find a single complaint, especially with the cool temperatures and the oceans of alcohol and cigarettes and lies Sirius had put between them.

“If you tell me you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to give you detention…” Remus responded, not looking up from his book.

“Could be fun.”

“It would be the opposite of fun. I’d make it so incredibly awful that you’ll never dream of apologizing again. Unless of course, you snuff something up horribly, then I expect nothing less than a very well-crafted apology.”

“And flowers?”

“Mhmm…” Remus hummed and he felt Sirius’s laugh against his skin. A welcome sensation after weeks of trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel; trying to make his own laughter when it just didn’t have the same punch. Remus wasn’t ever good at telling jokes and it was part of the reason he loved Sirius so much.

The best I could make of this situation was firewhiskey, Moons.

“James is sorry too. Lils…”

Remus also loved Sirius for how easy he was able to forgive when it was someone he loved. Remus…didn’t, still holding reservations towards James and Lily for torpedoing a perfectly good family for their own selfish agendas. Time hadn’t been fair to anyone in the equation, James and Lily morphing into versions of themselves Remus didn’t quite recognize. There was once a time where Remus would’ve defended James until his dying breath; would’ve walked through hot coals for Lily, gone to the end of the Earth for both of them, but time had changed that. Remus didn’t know these people any more than Harry did and Remus was only focused on the two people in his life who stayed. Sirius’s heart was far bigger. Remus loved him for that too.

Far more willing to make space even after being burned. Like all the times he continued giving birthday cards to his brother; opening letters from his parent’s hoping this time it would be different. Letting James and Lily back in was no different. Sirius could heal the burns and pretend they were never there in the first place, and Remus….well Remus remembered the date and time of every scar he received.

“James wasn’t the one holding your hair back.”

“He used to be.”

“I know.” Remus turned his head so he could meet Sirius’s lips with his own.

“Keep it together anyway?”

“Keep it together anyway.”

The door to Remus’s office opened, a knock not needed, Harry strolling in dark blue hoodie pulled up over his messy hair.

“Are we going to rob Gringotts later?” Sirius asked, pushing off Remus the slightest bit so he could see Harry more. Harry rolled his eyes but took the hood off his head, jumping into the other armchair.

“It’s cold.”

“In Gringotts?”

Harry rolled his eyes again, but Remus didn’t miss the smile threatening to escape, “Outside, and gave my hat to Cedric. You know, like a proper gentleman.”

Sirius laughed, “And what were you doing outside with him?”

Three for three on the eye-rolls and Remus laughed, putting his book down and waving his arm to start the kettle, same as they did every Sunday afternoon, happy to have three again, instead of just the two.

“You think he’s still allowed for Christmas Eve dinner?” asked Harry

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Remus asked, “Everyones invited.”

“Yeah well…” Harry shrugged, leaning back into the chair and chewing on the edge of his thumbnail.

Remus inhaled deeply, squeezing Sirius’s hand and wiggling under the weight. Something to keep him busy. Remus could make tea and ignore the bubbles in the pit of his stomach. The ones that had been simmering since September and had nearly boiled over that past month. Sirius understood, legs coming off of Remus’s lap to let him up.

“Babe, last I checked, Christmas Eve dinner is still at our house, and also, I had planned on making pudding for Cedric because I know he likes it so well and if he doesn’t come, I’ll have mass leftovers and we can’t have that,” Sirius told him.

“So…just…for the pudding?”

“And because he’s your boyfriend and is always invited. But…pudding comes first.”

Remus had two reasons he was keeping it together.

And he barely was.