Honestly, You Guys Will Be The Death Of Me!!!!!!

thats the best thing i have heard today(3 fucking completed wolfstar!) and even tho patience isnt my forte, but anything for our Moony, amiright?!

thaaaaanks :))

hiii, i just came across your recent wolfstar write-up and my gawd is it AMAZING!!!!! i just wanted to ask if i is a part of like an entire fic or just one-shots, and if its a fic can i please please get a link for the entire thing??! :):)

Hi friend!

So "No Matter the Wreckage" is in process presently. The intention is for it to be a whole fic (eventually...), but when I write and publish fics, I want to make sure I have the energy/brain space to give to it properly. It WILL be a fic, but right now it's just...bits and pieces lol.

They can definitely be read as one-shots/drabbles for now :) I just ask for patience and grace

You can go to the tag "no matter the wreckage" on my tumblr and find all the bits I've written so far and follow along for more updates/garbage from my brain

But! I am on AO3, u/n greyeyedmonster18 and there you shall find three completed wolfstar fics

xoxoxox

*plays in the background

(murder husbands inspired the desire to write the proposal out. sirius to remus. ((remus to sirius isn't quite this casual)))

Warm summer sunlight was barely poking through their bedroom curtains when Sirius woke up, trying to stay still as possible in bed, not wanting to wake his boyfriend. Even in the dead of night, he gravitated to Remus like a moth to a light, a barnacle clinging to the side of a boat for dear life even in calm waters. It had been that way since seventeen, though there wasn't much of an option then given the size of the dormitory beds, but wasn't any different now at 25 when they had a much bigger bed and a bedroom entirely to themselves. Sirius studied Remus in the morning light, counting freckles across the bridge of his nose and the pink left on his cheeks from time spent outside with their four-year-old and not enough sun lotion.

Sirius loved to count the freckles, especially when Remus was asleep and wasn't aware he was doing so. Though he loved to count the freckles during the day too because Remus's mouth would turn up at the corners and his face would flush from the intensity of the attention, but he never told Sirius to stop. Sirius loved the shape of Remus's mouth, the way it was slightly open when he slept; the sandy hair, and the way it captured the sunlight, turning more golden. Less grey.

Sirius wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life waking up next to someone who never complained about Sirius's full body weight on top of him, counting freckles, and making wishes on eyelashes that had fallen out onto cheeks.

"Marry me, Remus Lupin..." Sirius whispered, pressing a soft kiss just on Remus's cheek, as he always did before he got up in the morning. He could hear Harry in his room already, talking away to his toys and stuffed animals as he waited for Sirius to open the door.

"Okay," Remus mumbled in return, and Sirius halted, propped up on the palms of his hands, hovering above Remus.

"You're asleep."

"Sort of."

"You're supposed to be asleep."

"Kind of am," Remus stirred, bringing a hand out from underneath the covers to find the back of Sirius's head, his eyes still half-closed. It was clumsy, long fingers hitting Sirius's face, nearly poking an eye out before he was able to rest his hand where he wanted it to go. So Remus's long fingers could tangle in the curls that had escaped from the hairband overnight. Sirius would find it with the pillows when he made the bed later.

"You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Mmmm but I did. Sorry, too late. Answer still stands."

"...You'll marry me?"

"Yes."

"I have a ring," Sirius told him. Sirius also had plans. He also was working up to book a day at Remus's favorite fancy restaurant--the one they went to and just ate cheese and drank wine until closing. Sirius was going to show him the ring before their first glass. Sirius was going to say something romantic that would make Remus blush, and give the proposal speech of a lifetime.

But like most things he had planned out for him and Remus...they just never worked out the way Sirius built them up to in his brain.

"A ring?"

"Yes. It's in the dresser. Has been for months."

"Can I see it in an hour?"

(wrote this because i wanted to; wrote this because i think sirius would know when harry was missing his parents before harry knew himself)

--

Sirius had long since made himself comfortable on the grass, legs crossed and leaning backward onto his arms. Harry hadn't. Harry had been slouched, with his hands shoved deep into the front pockets of his jeans since they had arrived, his almost seventeen-year-old pitching a colossal fit when he realized where they were.

No, fuck you, Sirius!

Had been shouted so loud in a public place, Sirius nearly pulled the whole thing to drag his godson back home and have a conversation. Mr. Potter had always told Sirius that foul language was never warranted, but Sirius vividly remembered what it was like to be a teenager who felt they had no control; who felt out of control; who felt every last thing in the world was unfair and thought that some situations...definitely warranted a swear word or two.

This might have been one of them for Harry. Ambushed and brought to his parent's gravesite.

Harry was allowed to be angry at Sirius for this, but Sirius was allowed to sometimes play the I'm your godfather and I know it doesn't seem like it now but you'll thank me for this later card that he held in his hand. An ace up his sleeve he rarely revealed, but the days leading up to Harry's seventeenth felt like the time to. Sirius hoped this would be one of the times when Harry came to thank him an hour later, instead of years.

"Can we go?" he asked.

"No."

"This is stupid. It's a perfectly good day and you're having us waste it at a stupid gravesite. I could be playing Quidditch! I could...I could be meeting with my friends, I coul--"

"Did you have plans?"

"Well, no, but it's the principle of the thing, and now you're--this is kidnapping."

"You're free to go, Harry."

"You drove me here!"

Sirius nodded, "I did, but I'm not holding you, hostage," he brought a hand up to shield his eyes from the summer sun, "There's a bunch of shops...I'm sure one has a floo. You're welcome to go take a walk and figure it out...you are almost seventeen after all."

Harry scowled, "This is stupid."

"It can be stupid," Sirius shrugged, and turned his attention back to the decorated tombstone, with his best friend's name written across it. There were fresh flowers there, though less than when Sirius had first started visiting. Sirius wondered if there would come a day, 5, 10 13 years down the line where he'd come to pay James and Lily a visit and find nothing left behind and find their grave growing moss from visitors. He wondered how the names would look when the stone started to decay, fossilize, crack and turn. Do people still exist if no one is around to remember them? Would Sirius have to leave a will behind that stipulated every generation visit James and Lily just so they wouldn't be forgotten or be diminished to names whispered in passing like a rumor in a hallway of a boarding school?

"It's stupid."

"Yeah." Sirius patted the spot next to him on the ground for the fourth time since they had arrived, hoping this time Harry decided to join him. There was an eye roll and a final bit of protest, but Harry sat down, sitting cross-legged, and immediately started picking at the grass.

"Why are we doing this?"

"Thought you might have something to say."

"Well, I don't. It's s--"

"Stupid. I know," Sirius nodded, and sat up, bending his knees so he could rest his elbows on them. He took a breath. Harry wasn't wrong. Sirius felt foolish every time he did this and had for years. The first words were the hardest--as if those were the ones James was listening most for. If they were good enough, wise enough, funny enough maybe James would appear again. Like the magic words. A curse that could be broken with, "Hey, mate."

Harry snorted.

"Hey, mate. Lils. It's...me. Sirius," Sirius started, "I know I look a little different these days, but...it's me, I promise. We...live in a world where we don't have to prove our identities to other people now. When I open the door--"

"You still put your wand in people's faces if they come to the door," Harry interjected

"Fine, when Remus opens the door, we don't have to play a quick game of twenty questions. It's...nice, sort of. I haven't been able to shake my paranoia." Sirius said, watching as Harry's hands continued to pick at the grass, making a tiny pile next to a white trainer. "Been missing you lately, I think," Sirius continued, "...More than usual. I did the stupidest thing the other day--"

"Talk to a gravestone?" muttered Harry

"--I went to a bakery, there's a new one in Diagon Alley, this little witch makes tea cakes and I got a bunch to try, and I put an almond one in there. Didn't even realize until I brought the box home and Remus asked me why...." Sirius trailed off, tapping his fingers against the bone in his elbow.

Why did you get an almond one? We all hate almonds.

It's for James

Sirius had said it without even thinking. Done it without even second-guessing.

"Sixteen years and I'm still thinking of you...all the time. And your kid? Fucking spectacular. He's seventeen in a few days, and you know that means I can finally drop the whole parenting thing..." Sirius said lightly, "Boot him out and the like...tell him to get a job or something."

"Hey," Harry said, though it didn't have any of the bite from earlier, "He's joking. He told me last week that I had to stay at the house until I was forty-two, at least."

"Ah well, that was before you told me to go fuck myself."

"I didn't say that, I just said fuck you, if you're going to tell Mum and Dad that I was a brat at least make it accurate..."

"So sorry, babe," Sirius said, "Anyway...I love you both, and...supposed I just wanted to let you know that we're all doing alright, even if we miss you." Sirius looked at Harry, inclining his head as means of encouragement.

"I dunno what to say."

"I didn't exactly prepare a speech."

"I..."

"How about I give you some privacy."

"No," Harry's hand shot out to grab Sirius's own, immediately, and didn't move it, "Don't...don't go."

"I'm right here."

Harry looked at the tombstone, studying the flowers and the stone and the grass growing happily around it, "Hi Mum...Hi Dad. It's...it's me, Harry. I...think I have more hair from when you last saw me. That's what Moony says anyway...and...I'm...this is stupid. And I'm sorry I'm saying it's stupid, but Sirius always tells me just...to call something what it is and it helps make it better so I'm calling it stupid...because it is stupid that I'm about to turn seventeen and I have to sit on the ground, in the mud, on a hot fucking summers day to talk to my parents instead of getting to walk down the hall."

Once Harry started he couldn't stop.

Once Harry said I miss you, memories from birthdays gone by surfaced; his OWL exams, his best friends, his ex-boyfriend who hung the moon for him and then broke his heart, his current boyfriend who put the moon back together and gave it to him in a ceramic box labeled handle with care. The three of them came to visit once a year, but usually, Harry was too overwhelmed with tears to say much; they had come Harry's fifth year just after Christmas and it had been the same, though Harry had wanted to stay for hours, Sirius certain they were all going to catch their death in the cold despite the warming charms continuously being put up. This time was different though, and Sirius just sat and listened as his godson, his kid, poured every last thought he had, every last I love you onto his parent's gravestone, not bothering to catch the falling tears.

That's how gardens grow.

Sirius wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, pulling him into his chest as he finished, teenage body wracked with sobs and emotion that hadn't been released until that moment.

"This is stupid," Harry sniffed, making a point to wipe his face on Sirius's t-shirt.

"It can be stupid."

"Missing people is stupid."

"The stupidest thing in the world, love."

dudesss, do you guys see what i see or is it just me???????

maude apatow

tom holland

istg guyssssss-

bisexual bitch!

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

ayeeeeee!!!!!!!!!

Thankful for all of you this Thanksgiving day. <3

this....is so beautiful!

"kiss me once 'cause you know ive had a long night; kiss me twice 'cause its gonna be alright..."

lily evans is a face grabber, pass it on (compilation)

how can you even frikin think abt a 'good day' after THAT-

You know what’s so sad? Sirius Black was probably so loved the day he was born. And then the love slowly became less and less the more he began to grow and form his own opinions.

Anyways have a good day guys!

- James's birthday was an elaborate affair. Everyone James had ever spoken to, looked at, breathed in the direction of, was invited to celebrate his birthday (and not just for posterity or formality; because James genuinely noticed when so and so from Ravenclaw who gave him a spare quill once wasn't around for the festivities. James would apologize the next day for not including them). James's birthday might as well have been a holiday at Hogwarts it was so widely celebrated. With something active and engaging planned by Sirius. Like the year he turned the grounds by the Black Lake into a makeshift seaside, covering the grounds with sand and lawn chairs. Everyone played Beach Volleyball that year, a school-wide tournament, James grinning from ear to ear even as the sun went down and the colder temperatures set in. No one complained of too much activity or opted out of playing on James's birthday. They just did.

- Sirius's birthday used to look like James'. For the first few years. Because what better way to know how loved you were than having everyone you've ever met come celebrate you? Admire you? Pay attention to you on a day that was usually wasn't acknowledged at all. Other than a milestone--a year closer to being of age, of being a proper heir. The first few years, it was loud and obnoxious. A disruption that Sirius didn't even want in the first place but thought he should have. The last few years...weren't. The numbers dwindled as Sirius realized having a lot of people he didn't care about wasn't nearly as great as having a few people he did. Birthdays became smaller at fifteen--but were still filled with loud music, and alcohol and the fattest joints Remus could roll. Parties that went until well past midnight, James stifling yawns behind his hand, the night ending looking up at the stars, just as Sirius liked to do.

-Remus's birthday? The quietest, the slowest, the joy of doing nothing. The only day of the year James and Sirius didn't get up at the crack of dawn and stayed in bed until they had to get up for class. When Remus's birthday fell on weekend, it was an entire day, made up of blanket forts and too much smoke coming out of the Gryffindor tower window. Snacks and sweets and plenty of coffee in bed, three heads for one pillow, sharing a flask, giggling, and shooting the shit until the sun went down. Sirius didn't worry about the crumbs on the bedsheets, James didn't start fidgeting and trying to think of something to do. They just were. Dozing in and out of sleep, waking up to repeat the process. Remus's birthday was a slow day. A slow spinning record. Long cuddles. Wishes made on candles that burned far too long because Remus took forever to think of something he could possibly want that wasn't right there in front of him already.

Listen, this is gonna get sappy but I don’t care.

I am so grateful to be a young person right now. I will never take it for granted that growing up, I am being raised at a point where loving who you want and being who you are is being normalized.

I will never take it for granted that on TV, I could watch two men kiss and not bat an eyelash. I will never take it for granted that I could see a cast with so many POC and it not even register with me that it was that diverse until someone pointed it out. It was just kind of, normal. (And so well done on the part of the makers of the show.) There are so. many. people. before me that did not get that kind of representation. Even people just a little bit older than myself were so excited after Stede and Ed kissed, because they finally hadn’t been let down or queer baited.

I will never take for granted the beautiful and rich representation that I and many others got from a show like Our Flag Means Death, (and the future shows that do it as well that will one day be made)