Dude Did You Just 'or' Harry Potter????!!!! Anyway The Point Is THERE IS A HELL LOT OF US!!

the last one tho!!!!!! dorcasssz.. <3<3

Marauders Era as Annabelle tweets

James Potter

Sirius Black

Remus Lupin

Lily Evans

Regulus Black

Marlene McKinnon

Dorcas Meadowes

at the end of the day it's not that you hate your job - actually, you like working, you like routine, you like feeling like an adult - it's that any time you fuck anything up, you feel like you're fucking dying.

because you could be actually fucking dying. because if one day you wake up and you misunderstood something - you could lose your job, and nobody is hiring, and nobody is paying, and nobody takes people like you, and that job you want hasn't gotten back to you. and what exactly are you going to do without insurance? good luck with those meds. you should have thought of that before being a person.

so it's not just that you forgot to CC someone on an email, it's that if you don't have this job, you can't afford rent. it's not that you misread a comment, it's that if you get fired, you will be in massive amounts of unpayable debt. it's not that you are bad at your job, but here are the stakes as they have been decided for you: be perfect or fucking die. like, literally, die. that is how much safety net you have: none.

it's not burnout, technically. but you literally just had two typos in your work, and you're already picturing the ending. you want to throw up & curl up & make it all go away. it is two typos. if he decides he is mad at you, you lose literally everything.

your mom says that you seem stressed. the thing is that you have never known a job that isn't stressful. welcome to capitalism. there is no other road, only this one. what the fuck is a career. you come here, and we hold your life against the barrel of a gun, and somewhere someone is spinning the chamber and pulling. eventually the bullet will come.

you live in a mugging. your boss owns three cars and has four kids. you worry about having enough to feed your dog. good luck. beg for forgiveness. CC the right people next time and be grateful, kid. somebody has it worse than you. someone, probably, has it worse than you. so what if you can't sleep or eat or focus. your work chat sound literally makes you panic. you had to change the sounds of computer notifications so you'd stop having such an upset stomach.

welcome to the real world! the rat race! the dog eat dog circus!

your doctor studies the results and frowns at you. "it's bad for your heart," she says. "try to reduce your levels of stress."

SO, I’M OBSESSED WITH THEM THEN I MADE AN EDIT🥹❤️🤍💙

poems I loved in december

Paruyr Sevak, "To Go Mad"

Anne Sexton, "December 18th"

Ted Hughes, "Lovesong"

Chris Abani, "Ritual is Journey"

Franz Wright, "Untitled"

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, "A Prayer"

Willie Perdomo, "Maybe Under Some Other Sky"

Osip Mandelstam,'You took away all the oceans and all the room', (translated by Clarence Brown and W. S. Merwin)

Osip Mandelstam, "Tenderer than tender" transl. D. Smirnov-Sadovsky

Richard Siken, "Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out"

Michael Miller, "December"

Vladimir Mayakovsky, "A Cloud in Trousers"

Mohja Kahf, “Most Wanted”

Louise Glück, "Winter Recipes from the Collective"

Vladimir Mayakovsky, "Listen"

Fear, Czesław Miłosz, Robert Hass (translator)

Hope, Czesław Miłosz, Robert Hass (translator)

Charles Bukowski, "a vote for the gentle light"

Marina Tsvetaeva, "I Opened My Veins" (translated by Elaine Feinstein)

I’ve always wanted to write Wilmon fic but nothing I write sounds like their authentic voice. You always manage to get them so in character, sometimes it feels like you’re secretory in the writer’s room. I guess I’m asking if you have any tips or tricks for characterizing Wille/Simon

Surprise, I’m actually Lisa

But thank you anon, that’s so sweet. Let me kind of lay out my thoughts on how I write them and hopefully that will help.

In general, I think you should always start with a character’s flaws and build their reactions to events/people from there. It’ll also give you a good starting place for whatever emotional journey you want to take them on.

For Wille’s flaws: there’s a lack of emotional maturity here. Wille’s usually not intentionally mean, but most of his flaws come from how unaware he is and how he ends up unintentionally hurting the people around him but is often unable to understand how he did so because, to him, his actions are always, completely justifiable. He’s almost emotionally stunted in a way, and he kind of has trouble identifying what he’s feeling at any given moment which is what makes him tip towards anger and frustration more often than not. He reacts poorly to situations and people he can’t control, which is a hallmark symptom of anxiety. As a result, he has trouble putting words to his thoughts in a meaningful, constructive way. He’s impulsive and stubborn and self absorbed.

For Simon’s flaws: he’s actually incredibly emotionally intelligent and very perceptive - but he uses this intelligence to be intentionally cruel when he’s angry. For example, in arguments with Wille or Sara, he uses his intellect to pinpoint exactly what he needs to say to cut them down completely. He’s very, very good at getting the last word and sometimes he gets kind of consumed by that. Simon’s definitely not the super nice approachable guy at school - he’s a cunt to Wille on his very first day, he’s loud and outspoken, and hard headed. He’s also got a slightly hypocritical streak of idealism where he’s an idealist when it comes to the things that affect him, but is sometimes unable to offer the same grace to other people, especially when he’s angry or hurt. He also has a difficult time asking for help and being vulnerable.

Wille’s positives: he’s loyal, romantic, and he doesn’t have a wandering eye, he likes being coddled a little and is unafraid to ask for it, he’s quicker to admit that he’s wrong and knows when to give in, he’s also incredibly bold and brave - he’s unafraid to be the black sheep of the family, but he still loves his family and wants them to be proud of him.

Simon’s positives: he’s incredibly selfless and wants to take care of the people he loves and genuinely likes being there for them, he likes being supported but not protected - he loves that Wille respects his autonomy and thinks he’s capable, he has a strong sense of right and wrong and he stands up for what he believes in even if it might hurt him or if he might end up being wrong. he’s also a romantic and he definitely likes grand gestures and praise.

As for their dynamic, I always liken it to that old Christmas story where the husband sells his prized pocket watch to buy his wife a set of expensive combs, only for her to have cut and sold her hair to buy him a gold chain for his watch.

Just don’t be afraid to make them fight and annoy each other and not always say the right thing. It doesn’t take away from their love in any way.

Sorry this got out of hand, but I could talk about it forever. Hopefully that was even the slightest bit helpful ❣️

Hey, first of all I’d like to thank you for all the lovely words and condolences. I’m feeling quite okay right now. I am still sad of course, but my thoughts are with my friend’s husband and sister, who suffer most.

I can’t believe it myself, but I actually finished my newest Sirius painting in August! (very last day, but still 😅 Grumpy SIrius in Grimmauld place 🤭 It has been a long time since I painted a more detailed background. It was a great experience, but very exhausting. I also made some bad perspective mistakes. Please ignore them 😅 I really put much effort into it, but in the end I still messed it up.

““Mother,” I slowly repeated in Korean. “I am not a boy. I am a girl. I am transgender.” My face reddened, and tears blurred my vision. I braced myself for her rejection and the end to a relationship that had only begun. Silence again filled the room. I searched my mother’s eyes for any signs of shock, disgust or sadness. But a serene expression lined her face as she sat with ease on the couch. I started to worry that my words had been lost in translation. Then my mother began to speak. “Mommy knew,” she said calmly through my friend, who looked just as dumbfounded as I was by her response. “I was waiting for you to tell me.” “What? How?” “Birth dream,” my mother replied. In Korea some pregnant women still believe that dreams offer a hint about the gender of their unborn child. “I had dreams for each of your siblings, but I had no dream for you. Your gender was always a mystery to me.” I wanted to reply but didn’t know where to begin. My mother instead continued to speak for both of us. “Hyun-gi,” she said, stroking my head. “You are beautiful and precious. I thought I gave birth to a son, but it is OK. I have a daughter instead.””

— Andy Marra, The Beautiful Daughter: How My Korean Mother Gave Me the Courage to Transition (via a-witches-brew)

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

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.