Hiš„¹ I loved the new chapter and Iām so pumped youāre posting again!! I took a long break from fic and the wolfstar warehouse is no longer a thing I guess lmao - do you happen to have any current author recs? I follow you on ao3 and love the emails!!! but I donāt follow any other active writers and now of course Iām addicted again but I donāt know where to go! Iām starting all over again searching tags š do you/ does anybody else have any suggestions for me?
Hello friend āŗļø thank you so much!! I will rec ANYTHING by @squintclover @therealrjlupin @blitheringmcgonagall @theresthesnitch @greyeyedmonster-18 @elder-millennial-trash @fuckboyregulus @wolfpants @aqua-myosotis @neondomino @fantismal @krethes @impishtubist @mabeltothknows and these are my friends so I might be a bit biased, but I stand by the fact that they are all phenomenal authors and anything they produce is going to be genius, I guarantee it.
If I'm being honest, I try not to read a lot of fic, because I have an irrational fear that I'll accidentally steal someone else's plot or trope or wording and I would hate myself.
But if anyone wants to jump in and make some recs, you're certainly welcome to and I would appreciate it!
Things I will forever be upset about:
I donāt know what my Patronus is.
I donāt know what Amortentia smells like to me
I donāt know what Iād see in the mirror of Erised
I donāt know what my Boggart would be.
oh my gosh!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS WAS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!
āKnitting,ā Sirius repeated, his mouth around the cigarette before inhaling once more, āYou canāt complain if you receive a sweater every year for Christmas for the rest of your life.ā
āIāll take 100 sweaters if it means my kid can grow up with you there.ā
(a gift that keeps giving; inspired by the posts on sirius knitting and how i think that came to beā¦)
Keep reading
Andrey Kneller, the translator of My Poems: Selected Poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva [bilingual edition]Ā
and you said this one wouldnt be a big ouch-
its just as ouch as the other three and they ouched very bad indeed!!
(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 didnāt take long for Sirius to fall off the edge. It felt that Harry had barely left Remusās 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 Siriusās 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 wasā¦pretty good.
Whatās 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 werenāt 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 couldnāt even be bothered to clean his desk anymore, they didnāt 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. Isnāt itā¦terrible?
It was terrible. This was worse.
āSirius!ā a voice shouted through the mirror, taken out of the back pocket of Siriusās 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, āHi, Harry.ā
Harryās eyebrows knitted together, āWhereās Sirius?ā
A violent cough from the toilet.
āHeās sick, Harry.ā
āStill?ā
āYeah,ā 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. āSorry. Did you need something?ā
āI justā¦wanted to talk to him. He got sick and I havenātā¦since I shouted at you bothā¦.ā
āI know, love.ā
āI did really well on my last Transfiguration examā¦did you hear?ā
Remus smiled, stepping out of the bathroom, though he kept an eye on Siriusās body curled around the toilet as he did so, āI did. Professor McGonagall was quite impressed. Was the talk of the teacher's quarters.ā
āIt wasnāt that big of news...ā
āI assure you it was, Hermiones got some competition if you keep that up,ā Remus told him.
āI wrote James and Lily about it too,ā Harryās 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 rightā¦I canāt explain it.
āJames saidā¦well, I remember you telling me he was good at Transfiguration?ā
āHe was, probably is still, I just havenāt asked him to transfigure anything recently.ā
The gagging stopped from the bathroom.
āDo Iā¦Sirius is okay, right?ā
āHeās okay, Harry.ā
āLike, I donāt need to beā¦like heās not going to have to go to St. Mungos for a while, right? Like for a disease no one knows about? Itāsā¦just a cold and heāsā¦being stubborn?ā
Remus laughed, āHeās being very stubborn and refusing to take potions to help him.ā
Harryās brows furrowed, āHEY! STOP BEING A TWAT!ā
āHarry,ā Remus said lightly but was relieved hearing a small chuckle from Siriusās 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.
āDid that work? Is he well enough to scold me?ā
āHow about you call again tomorrow and weāll both tell you to watch your mouth, hm?ā
Harry nodded, āOkay. I love you? Iāll see you in class tomorrow?ā
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 didnāt 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 nowā¦
Courage had been flushed down the toilet.
Sirius had nothing left to give or loan out to anyone.
āYou will. I love you very much. We love you very much.ā
The mirror went dark.
Siriusās outstretched hand dropped on the tile floor once more.
The wretching had finished.
Remus almost preferred those noises to the sobs that replaced them.
--
āIs Sirius still mad? I thought we were going to try to allā¦work it out,ā 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 Harryās when green eyes searched the stand for someone who wasnāt going to show.
Remus laughed shortly, āSirius isnāt mad. Sirius is drunk. Sirius hasnāt been sober in weeks and--ā
James sighed, āHe always did know how to throw an expert fit... Does thisā¦happen a lot?ā
Remusās expression darkened. Hairs prickling up on his arms. āYou do not know how wrong you are.ā
You remember seventeen, and eighteen and nineteen. But you werenāt there I didnāt get out of bed for weeks, consumed with grief and cries from an infant that only stopped when Sirius held him. You werenāt there when Sirius was the only thing propping us up.
James slowed his movements, fork hovering mid-air, āIāmā¦okay, maybe--ā
āI could count on one hand the number of times Sirius has gotten drunk since Harryās been with us. One hand. And one of those was our fucking wedding,ā Remus pushed himself away from the table roughly shaking his head, āIām suddenly not hungry at all.ā
āRemus, we didnāt mean anything by it,ā Lily tried reaching her hand out to catch Remusās arm, but she missed. Hitting nothing but air.
āDidnāt you? Ever stop to think about why heās drinking in the first place?ā
--
āIām sorry,ā Sirius mumbled into the side of Remusās neck for the thousandth time that evening, arms wrapped around Remusās torso tightly as they sat in an armchair together in Remusās quarters at Hogwarts. It wasnāt exactly an easy fit, Siriusās legs thrown over Remusās lap, and still hanging off the edge; Remusās arm sandwiched between Siriusās 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 couldnāt find a single complaint, especially with the cool temperatures and the oceans of alcohol and cigarettes and lies Sirius had put between them.
āIf you tell me youāre sorry one more time, Iām going to give you detentionā¦ā Remus responded, not looking up from his book.
āCould be fun.ā
āIt would be the opposite of fun. Iād make it so incredibly awful that youāll never dream of apologizing again. Unless of course, you snuff something up horribly, then I expect nothing less than a very well-crafted apology.ā
āAnd flowers?ā
āMhmmā¦ā Remus hummed and he felt Siriusās 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 didnāt have the same punch. Remus wasnāt 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.
āJames is sorry too. Lilsā¦ā
Remus also loved Sirius for how easy he was able to forgive when it was someone he loved. Remusā¦didnāt, still holding reservations towards James and Lily for torpedoing a perfectly good family for their own selfish agendas. Time hadnāt been fair to anyone in the equation, James and Lily morphing into versions of themselves Remus didnāt quite recognize. There was once a time where Remus wouldāve defended James until his dying breath; wouldāve walked through hot coals for Lily, gone to the end of the Earth for both of them, but time had changed that. Remus didnāt know these people any more than Harry did and Remus was only focused on the two people in his life who stayed. Siriusās 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 parentās 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 Remusā¦.well Remus remembered the date and time of every scar he received.
āJames wasnāt the one holding your hair back.ā
āHe used to be.ā
āI know.ā Remus turned his head so he could meet Siriusās lips with his own.
āKeep it together anyway?ā
āKeep it together anyway.ā
The door to Remusās office opened, a knock not needed, Harry strolling in dark blue hoodie pulled up over his messy hair.
āAre we going to rob Gringotts later?ā 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.
āItās cold.ā
āIn Gringotts?ā
Harry rolled his eyes again, but Remus didnāt miss the smile threatening to escape, āOutside, and gave my hat to Cedric. You know, like a proper gentleman.ā
Sirius laughed, āAnd what were you doing outside with him?ā
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.
āYou think heās still allowed for Christmas Eve dinner?ā asked Harry
āWhy wouldnāt he be?ā Remus asked, āEveryones invited.ā
āYeah wellā¦ā Harry shrugged, leaning back into the chair and chewing on the edge of his thumbnail.
Remus inhaled deeply, squeezing Siriusās 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 Remusās lap to let him up.
āBabe, 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 doesnāt come, Iāll have mass leftovers and we canāt have that,ā Sirius told him.
āSoā¦justā¦for the pudding?ā
āAnd because heās your boyfriend and is always invited. Butā¦pudding comes first.ā
Remus had two reasons he was keeping it together.
And he barely was.
....
Please please please donāt be mad. Remember how I told you that Hagrid had made a new friend? Wellā¦Ā
His new friend was a dragon and we had to help smuggle it out to Charlie (Ronās brother) and we got caught by McGonagall and we lost 150 points and McGonagall said sheād have to write to our parents so Iām writing this really fast because Iām hoping youāll get my letter first so that you donāt get too shocked when a Hogwarts owl comes through the wards.Ā
Please donāt yell at me too much when you see me at the next Quidditch match. I wonāt be doing it again, I swear on your mumās portrait.Ā
Love,Ā
Harry
Dear Sirius,
Our new Defense teacher is just as much of a loony as you told me heād be. And his robes make me wish I was completely blind. Can you send me another one of your old books? I really really donāt think Iāll be learning much of anything this year. At least anything of value (although if youĀ want to know what Gilderoy Lockhartās favorite colour is, I can let you know).Ā
Love,
Harry
Dear Sirius,
I FORGOT MY SIGNED HOGSMEADE PERMISSION SLIP CAN YOU PLEASE SEND IT TO ME! URGENTLY! THANK YOU!
Also do you want any more Sugar Quills when I go to Honeydukes? I remember you were on your last one when I left.
Love,
Harry
Dear Sirius,
You probably already heard, but I canāt come home from Christmas this year. Thereās going to be a stupid Yule Ball at the stupid school on Christmas day and I have to go because Iām a stupid champion and I have to find a stupid date because I have to open the stupid ball. And learn how to stupid dance!
I think I left my stupid dress robes in my closet. Can you send them to me? Also, how do I ask someone to come with me to the ball?
Missing you and your horrid Christmas decor.
Love,Ā
Harry
Dear Sirius,
I know you told me to tell you if anything weird happens this year and I think something just did. The new Defense teacher is a witch from the Ministry-absolutely horrid woman. I had a detention with her (yes I know the term only just started and no you may not ask why) and she had me doing lines, only the quill she gave me was kind of strange? It didnāt use ink. It sorta⦠used my blood I think. Or at least the ink was red. Carved the words I was writing into the back of my hand. Healed right up though. No scars or anything.
Donāt lose your mind. Iām sure itās fine. Iām just telling you now so that you canāt yell at me later for keepingĀ Ā āimportant informationā from you like the whole Philosopherās Stone Disaster of ā92.
Hope to see you soon. Schoolwork is slowly killing me.
Love,
Harry
da FUCK?! awh man dun expose me like dat-
just saw a tik tok that said all unstable queer teens are obsessed with at least one of the following fandoms: dead poets society, the raven cycle, all for the game, six of crows, or the marauders. what does it mean if iām obsessed with all of themš³
iām losing it
āHonestly, Iām having a proper full-on GAY PANIC.ā
- Nick Nelson, Heartstopper by @aliceoseman
Hereās my celebratory take on these beloved besties. I AM SO READY FOR THIS SHOW TO AIR TOMORROW! š„°
this is the cutest!!! i'll go to the corner and cry. bye!
i rewind the tape but all it does is pause on the very moment all was lost
other version here and my shop
but my ass still doesnt wanna move and lie down on the comfy bed! life is hard dudes-