(wrote This Because I Wanted To; Wrote This Because I Think Sirius Would Know When Harry Was Missing

— august, tathève simonyan

[text ID: promises made by june / had rotten / by the time august came. / i’ve mistaken silence with nothingness / and unlearning it asks for courage / i know not how to muster. / this half-empty glass of orange juice, / ever-present on its throne of dust, / on this wooden table, / holds more promise than i ever will. / i, a personified you, for this is not a wall but a mirror / [personified] / i, i mean you, i mean [redacted] / you eat the sun and with your burnt tongue / try to sing songs / not about pain. / don’t you? / in july / [i] you tried to stretch the rare / moments of happiness but our feet / always seemed to stay out of the / blanket / uncovered. / how do i love something without / fully succumbing to it? / you thought you had to die for you to live, didn’t you? / you thought there’s always a spring after a winter / you didn’t think that / this vivaldian symphony hadn’t been written for bodies like ours, . did you? / in july / you didn’t know that loneliness is a crowded town / yet /  it’s always been bestowed upon you / to lock the gates / and turn off the lights / every night, / did you? / june made promises it knew it couldn’t keep. / but i shall be wiser / in august.]

24 days left, guys what the fuck are we still doing???????

*while im still stuck in 2018*

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. 

i frikin know right?????!!!!!

its tOrTuRe.

my bi ass is not going to be able to handle both of them in one show

awwwwwwwwh mannnn!!!!!!!

typical morning at the Potter household

YAY WE HAVE A BONUS HERE, GUYSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

@greyeyedmonster-18 thank you thank you thank you SO MUCH, you absolutely amazing human!!!!!!!!!!!

ten reasons (to go to michigan): bonus

authors note and chapter below the cut. thanks for loving this little au so much.

--

read the fic here

notes: it is short, and thats largely because i could easily get carried away, drumming up countless scenarios of their little life together for the time being.

my #brand is kind of sort of love stories. and my mission statement is always this idea of...love comes with an asterisk of like "it doesn't always work this way". one of the biggest messages of ten reasons was for remus to learn how much of himself he had given away in a previous relationship, so much so that the only place he had to go at the beginning of the fic with a drop of familiarity was his childhood town. and you can see this with his speech in particular, how hesitant he is to give anything of himself away. and at the end of the fic, even though he's being brave and starting this relationship for real (and starting it the same way he started his first one that ended so poorly), he also knows this time around more of himself and more of what belongs to him.

he has an apartment of his own. he has a successful book that he is allowed to be proud of. he has the upper peninsula. he knows which friends he can count on (and one of them happens to be Marlene). so yes, it was a love story...but it also wasn't. at the end of the fic, remus knows this time around if it all goes to shit, he'll be okay.

(we could also say the same for sirius, who's last serious relationship was when he was high all the time and wasn't himself. its a love story...but its also not.)

without further ado...

--

“Harry, let’s go!” Sirius said down the hall, “Your butt needs to be out that door in 10 minutes!”

“Telling me when I need to leave doesn’t help me go any faster!” Harry shouted back and Remus sipped his coffee at the table across from Regulus, both of them used to the morning hurricane that was Sirius trying to get a fourteen, going on fifteen-year-old out the door in a timely fashion, neither of them offering any help. In fact, most mornings, Regulus was content to make Sirius’ job harder with dry comments, occasionally sticking out a foot from underneath the table to see if Sirius would trip over it in the hurry. Remus was always impressed that Sirius managed to dodge it, and managed to get Regulus back later in the day. Remus had witnessed Regulus fall to the ground due to an assault from his brother more than a few times. Despite how early they were, and that Remus could’ve stayed in Sirius’s room, he found it easier to get up with the rest of the house, realizing that once Harry was out the door, the morning slowed down significantly and Sirius made a better cup of coffee than he ever could.

It never got old though.

The morning dance of Sirius packing a lunch (though these days it also consisted of giving Harry a wad of cash and hoping for the best); of Harry stumbling down the hall still half-asleep with his backpack over his shoulder; the banter and the reminders for the day.

“I’m here, I’m going, it’s fine,” Harry said, emerging from his bedroom, his shoes already on, but his school tie undone and the blazer over his arm.

“Seven minutes,” Sirius said, “You remember which train to take?”

“Yes, I’ve been doing it for months now.”

“Homework?”

“Packed,” Harry said, grabbing a bar from the pantry and an orange from the counter that went into his backpack as well. “Coffee?”

“You’re small enough, kid.”

“That was uncalled for. I’m growing,” Harry scowled and Sirius shrugged “I am! Tell him!” He looked at the table for help.

“I’m not telling him anything,” Regulus said, his hands wrapped around his own cup of coffee as he eyed his nephew, “But I am telling you that over my dead body are you walking out the door looking like you’ve rolled out of bed.”

“I mean, I did,” and Remus snorted at the reply. There was something so refreshing about getting to know a teenager and having them as part of his life. No punches were ever pulled, no stone of opportunity for back-talk and sass unturned. But Harry was kind like Sirius, in the way he held doors open for others when they went out together; the way it was always thank you and please when he meant it. The way he stopped what he was doing to listen if he thought it was important.

“I’m not above tucking in your shirt for you, Harry,” Reg put down his coffee, “Fix yourself, please.”

“Sirius said I have five minutes!”

“Four now,” Sirius said and Harry sighed, dropping his backpack to the ground in a huff, Remus smiling silently over his cup of coffee. The adjustment to private school uniforms was one of Harry’s biggest complaints. Though from the rest of what he had observed, and been told from Sirius, the smaller class sizes and the available sports teams were worth it. Harry had friends. Harry had a girlfriend. Harry was no longer the kid whose parents died so he moved, and was just another kid. “And it’s only two if it’s the subway, but I’m always happy to drive and can cut the time in half”

“You shouldn’t brag about that,” Remus said under his breath, Sirius hearing and giving him a wink.

“No one wears the uniform right…” muttered Harry, tucking in his shirt, trying to keep still as Sirius knotted the tie around his neck.

“Well, no one isn’t my nephew so,” Regulus shrugged, “Sorry about it.”

“Can you divorce your relatives? Can I sign a petition for an Uncle who isn't such a--"

"Shhh, it's too early, it's too early," Sirius's voice masked the undoubtedly unpleasant thing Harry was saying to Regulus, the man not entirely able to conceal his smile.

“Shame,” Harry pulled a face at Regulus, and Regulus returned it, the comments all said without bite behind them. Harry picked his bag up again. “Can I go? Anything else? Should I curtsy? Spitshine my shoes really quick?”

“Your shoes are fine, actually.” Regulus commented, “Would love the curtsy though, let me get my phone out so I can have it on video.” Harry ignored his uncle, turning back to Sirius who had caught his face in his hands. The same way they always did before Harry left for the day.

“Text me when you get to school, I love you so much, don’t get caught kissing in the halls again, babe.”

“I know the rules, babe. Love you, babe.” Harry rolled his eyes, Sirius still managing to kiss him on the side of the head before he walked out the door entirely, “Bye Reg, Bye Remus!”

Remus gave a wave. Thinking back to the mornings where Harry didn't acknowledge his existence at the table until after 10am. As if he wanted to pretend his godfather wasn't in a relationship serious enough that warranted sleepovers. Thinking back to the time Harry had cornered Remus by the shared bathroom and sized him up.

I like you. But if you hurt him, I will leave terrible public reviews on your book and drag your name through the mud. Don't underestimate the power of a teenager with a smartphone. Yeah?

As far as Remus knew, he was still holding up his end of the bargain.

Once the door shut, Sirius let out a breath, running a hand over his hair to tie it up.

“That’s an Olympic sport, I think. And I’d medal in it,” he said, walking over to Remus for the first time that day to wrap his arms around his shoulders. Sirius was always up first, and by the time Remus made it to the kitchen, the day at the races was on and consisted of lunch making and double-checking for permission slips and schedules for sports practices. Remus didn’t mind waiting for the morning kisses though. They always came.

Long gone were the days he once sat wondering if affection would come before the nighttime. Before substances and loneliness. Long gone were the days someone reached for Remus because he was there and not because they wanted to.

“Were you really going to let him walk out the door looking like that?”

“Careful, your snob is showing, Reg,” Sirius replied from where he had gone to fix his own cup of coffee, the scent of Sirius’s shampoo lingering somewhere around Remus’s shoulder. Only a few feet away and Remus already missed the weight of arms on his shoulders.

“I’m serious.”

“If you want to be the one who wakes him up after he shuts off his alarm, and makes sure he doesn’t leave his brain in his bedroom with his homework every morning, by all means. I will gladly take over and make sure his shirt’s tucked in before he leaves the house. Drinking coffee leisurely at the table.”

“How else would you get the gold then?” Regulus asked, sharing a smart look with Remus. Sirius came over to join them, immediately taking Remus’s hand and putting it at the back of his neck, Remus’s fingers running along black curls. Sirius’s eyes met his, a soft smile crossing his lips as he picked up his coffee mug.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

It wasn’t every night that they spent together, and it wasn’t every morning either, phone calls and text messages bridging the gap between time spent underneath sheets, bodies wrapped around each other like trees grown together. It wasn’t every day they spent together, Remus having his own schedule that was being steadily filled out by meetings and interviews for book podcasts, the rush of finishing first returning quickly when his name stayed on top of the Best Seller list for months.

There was no resentment when Remus was gone. Just Tupperware of Remus’s favorite cookies tucked away into his suitcase to find for later. Just embarrassing Welcome Home signs at the airport. Just long kisses in airports, like they do in all the movies. Just daily reminders of what he was coming back to.

Miss you.

Proud of you.

I love you.

My novelist.

There was no insecurity (well...less insecurity) when Sirius was absent during lacrosse playoffs or what Remus learned was called installation week and Sirius would be at the studio for days at a time with his phone on Do Not Disturb mode, only coming up for air for childcare. Remus left the reminders on those days.

I hope you’re still getting sleep.

Harry is welcome at my apartment if you need more time. I don't know anything about teenagers but I have a television and a full pantry.

Friday take-out is on me

I love you

No matter what, they always came back together. Words dissolved into each other's arms and they caught up on the hours, the day, sometimes the week; hands just thankful to be touching once more, eager to feel warm skin again.

It wasn’t perfect, though Remus thought some days that this painfully realistic Hallmark movie that involved sleepless nights, lingering drug habits, grief, crippling anxiety, and a teenager who told the truth no matter what, was still light years better than the faux-fairytale he was in for his twenties. Remus was still repairing trust in others after being badly burned. Sirius was still learning to ask for help instead of burning out.

It wasn’t happy ever after, because that simply didn’t exist, as much as Remus would look at Sirius on his bad days and see a knight in shining armor.

But it was happy.

It was happy.

<333

Sirius: you’re idiotic

Remus: well, you’re stupid

Sirius: half-witted moron

Remus: dense dimwit

Sirius: brainless imbecile

Remus: my beautiful boyfriend

Sirius: my gorgeous lover

James: ..wHat

Ok everyone but imagine Todd and Neil do have to separate for college and for some reason have no other way to communicate with each other aside from ✨letters✨

Neil constantly writing letters to Todd between classes or filling his notebooks with doodles and thinks he wants to send and say, puts tiny cute little stickers in with the letters, is blunt but gushing and just a total sap and hates how long it takes to get a letter from Todd. He has a SPECIAL PEN for letters for Todd and ONLY letters for TODD and Todd ONLY. No one touch his pen for Todd he WILL yell at you and his insults are painfully accurate, creative and one might even say…. Shakespearean.

Todd on the other hand would always be overthinking what to say. After classes he would just sit there for hours into the night thinking, scrawling then crumpling up and throwing away. The poor kid could probably deforest the entire continent of North America with how many times he crumpled up drafts. Puts in pressed flowers with the letters, struggles with words and expressing things when not in poetry form but he’s trying his best.

Years later, when they’re old and grey and going through their things to find out what to keep and what to give away (as old people often do) they stumble across a pair of wooden boxes, each with each other’s names on them somewhere. They open them and unearth their letters from college, the paper beginning to yellow with age and antiquity, the ink having turned from black to brown and beginning to bleed around the edges. The look at each other, smile, and laugh.

“After all these years you still kept all of my horrendous excuses for love letters..?” Todd asks.

“They weren’t horrendous! Plus.. eh, I’ve always resorted to reading them when I’m down or needing some extra encouragement.” Neil answers, with a shrug, voice sounding similar to a winter fire as the snow drifts down outside, warm yet crackling every so often with age. “Plus, you kept mine too so you’re one to talk.”

oh my god!!!! this is the sweeeteest!!!! i wish you and your family a very happy life <33

“May I?” “You may.”

Sirius and Remus have a coffee in the sunset, good vibes only for @starstruck4moony thanks for the suggestion! X