percy/rowan, achillean, ace, trans masc, auDHD, entp, minor. david bowie + chappell roan + hozier + jack stauber + ethel cain + queen + arctic monkeys + maneskin + tv girl + rio romeo + paris paloma. the song of achilles - marauders (fuck jkr) - six of crows - percy jackson - heartstopper - loveless - solitaire - nimona - dead poets society - our flag means death - shameless - spider-man (miles morales) - mouthwashing - dead plate- thor. remus lupin, barty crouch jr, charlie dalton, miles morales kinnie. rain, storms, fashion, cats. my theme never lasts
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free
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This powerful piece was created by Jonathan Labillois, member of the Listuguj Mi'gmaq First Nations in Gaspé Quebec. It was donated to the Montreal Native Women’s Shelter to help raise awareness of the 1000+ missing and murdered aboriginal women in Canada.
You seemed to have enjoyed writing the prompt I sent b4, so here's another one, but wolfstar (it's ok if you don't write another the same day I understand!)
Imagine Remus, a day or two after the full moon nd fresh out of the hospital wing, falls asleep on Sirius's shoulder. This is the time where Sirius is still stupidly stuck on trying to convince himself that he's straight nd shi, nd ends up panicking due to internalized homophobia.
I personally hope you'll make it angst, comfort, then fluff, but again, you wield the pen, so do as you wish, ancient eldritch spirit 😌
yayyyayayy!! okay so i went out yesterday so i couldnt write this but i did it now soo.
i may have changed a few things. they're in the hospital wing instead of freshly out of the hospital wing because i feel like the spiraling would work better there idk. i hope this is good, because im not really feeling it idkkk. its like 10 am for me rn lmaoshdhdd.
here you gooo:
wc: 827 (ONLY?? HUH?? THIS TOOK LIKE AN HOUR BTW)
tws: internalized homophobia, panic attack, and self worth issues
Another night in the hospital wing after the full moon.
Another night where it was only Sirius Black by Remus Lupin’s side.
Another night where Remus just looked so fucking pretty.
Ever since the start of fifth year, Remus had come back looking different. Looking so much more effortlessly stunning then Sirius had remembered. The day Remus came walking through that train compartment with some Doc Martens and a pack of cigarettes, the way Sirius had perceived Remus changed.
Sirius had convinced himself that this was totally and irrevocably platonic. That noticing the way one of his best friend’s eyebrows scrunched when he disagreed with someone was normal. Or feeling a surge of jealousy whenever Lily talked to Remus was Sirius just being overprotective. Because what else could it be if not platonic?
Sirius had been taught from a very young age that gay people were filthy. And that being gay was unnatural. Sirius thought it was fine that people were gay now, he knew what his mother said was wrong about them. But Sirius himself being gay? Nope. Because Sirius just— couldn’t be gay. It was wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.
So Sirius kissed a new girl every day. And he wasn’t imagining it was Remus instead.
Sirius glanced down at Remus, snapping out of his thoughts. He felt guilty getting lost in his head instead of comforting Remus like how he ought to. But, he saw Remus asleep. On Sirius’s shoulder.
Fuck.
Why was Remus just so — ethereal when he was asleep? Remus looked like an angel sent down by the gods. His whole face was relaxed, the exasperated look he usually had on his face gone. Curly locks of golden brown hair fell across Remus’s face, and they looked so soft that Sirius’s hands itched to go and run his hands through them. Sirius instinctively leaned in closer, and the splattering of freckles across Remus’s face were so lovely. Sirius wanted to kiss each and every one-
What was Sirius thinking? Sirius couldn’t be gay. Not at all.
“You’re just a failure, Sirius” Walburga’s voice taunted in his head.
A failure. That’s what Sirius was if he were gay. He couldn’t be. No. No.
Sirius was a failure. Sirius was a failure. Sirius was an absolute fucking failure.
Being gay was bad. It was a horrendous thing to be. It was unnatural and disgusting and horrible and-
Sirius couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. The walls of the hospital wing were closing in on him. Walburga was right. Sirius would never get anywhere in life. He was just a burden after all.
Black dots were clouding Sirius’s vision. He couldn’t breathe. The air in his lungs had suddenly disappeared. Sirius was dirty. He was filthy for having these thoughts. He. Was. A. Fucking. Failure.
“Sirius?” Remus mumbled, squinting his eyes.
Sirius tried to shove all these thoughts to the back of his mind when he heard Remus’s voice through all the chaos in his head. Remus had just transformed into a werewolf for fucks sake. Sirius should be there for him. But he couldn’t.
It was all too much.
He tried taking deep breaths, tried sending a smile at Remus but all that came out was a laboured gasp.
“Sirius!” Remus sat up quickly, taking Sirius’s hands in his.
Remus’s hands were so warm. Sirius tried to focus on that warm sensation. He wanted to hold Remus’s hands forever.
“Take deep breaths with me, yeah? Inhale…. And exhale…. Inhale…. And exhale…” Sirius breathed with Remus, and he steadily felt himself calm down. His hands stopped shaking in Remus’s palms, and slowly but surely, he was at the least bit, okay.
“What happened, pads?” Remus had asked softly, after a few minutes of silence.
“It’s- it’s nothing Rem. I’m sorry for having you do all this. I know you just came back from a full moon and-”
“Hey,” Remus cut in, smiling warmly at Sirius. “It’s absolutely okay, alright? You’re my best friend, I’d do anything for you.”
“Really? Anything?” Sirius asked quietly.
“Yeah, Sirius. Anything.” Remus responded.
Sirius exhaled, and slumped into Remus’s arms with exhaustion. He would sort this all out later. For now, it was just him and Remus in the hospital wing.
Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius gently, and the pair lay there together in a comfortable silence.
“Remus?” Sirius asked, his pale grey eyes looking up at Remus.
“Yeah?” Remus murmured gingerly, gaze drifting to Sirius.
“I think I might be gay.” Sirius said, the words feeling foreign coming from his mouth.
Remus’s eyes widened in shock, before relaxing his features once more.
“That’s lovely, Sirius.” Remus replied, another warm smile making its way onto his face.
“You’re not disgusted by me?” Sirius nervously fiddled with the fabric of Remus’s jumper, afraid of Remus’s answer.
“No. Why would I be?” Remus started carding his hands through Sirius’s silky, black hair, and all Sirius felt as he fell asleep was peace.
Barty Crouch jr. who only knows how to get attention by being a menace x Evan Rosier who's extremely patient with him out of spite.
Evan Rosier who has two toned lips and sometimes wears lipstick on the bottom one to even them out x Barty Crouch jr. who suspiciously always has a smudge of lipstick on his bottom lip.
poet!Evan Rosier who's filled hundreds of notebooks with Barty x painter!Barty Crouch jr. who's walls are lined with paintings of Evan (both of their love turning into a twisted obsession)
Barty crouch jr. who explodes x Evan rosier who implodes.
Barty Crouch jr. who has countless scars and wounds around his body from fights, who fell into SH at a young age and has been spilling his blood like it's useless ever since x Evan Rosier who keeps a little vial of Barty's blood around his neck like it's the most valuable and precious thing he's ever owned.
Rosekiller who either never say "I love you" or say it over and over, obsessively
Barty and Evan who tried to save each other, but how could they when they couldn't even save themselves? A drowning man cant expel the water from another's lungs. A starving man has no food to offer.
Barty who blamed himself for not letting Evan know how much he loved him, how much he needed him alive.
Evan who thought that his broken edges would end up slitting Barty's throat eventually.
oh and also when they argue they compare each other to labubus 😇
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Hazel Scott was a musical sorcerer and a civil rights hero. She:
was admitted to Julliard at 8.
was performing in top venues by 16.
pioneered “swinging the classics” and made the equivalent of a million dollars a year doing it.
was the first person of color to have their own national TV show.
went to Hollywood but refused to be cast as a “singing maid.” Demanded and got control over her casting, her wardrobe, and how footage featuring her was cut.
refused to perform in segregated venues and led charges for integration in several northern cities, notably Spokane.
She was brought down by the House Committee on Unamerican Activities, and has been largely forgotten. But she was a sorcerer, and a hero.
Remus pushes the door open and pauses, taking the stairs in front of him. They used to look less jarring and tall when he was 16, when he climbed them hand in hand with—with someone.
Taking a deep breath and finding courage in a place that he didn't even know existed, the Professor (funny title, that) helps himself with his cane and takes one step at a time. He regulates his breathing, slowly, when his beaten lungs start to protest, and Remua doesn't know if it is the exhaustion or the anxiety.
Thankfully, the top of the Astronomy Tower is empty. It isn't a surprise, with the Gryffindors sleeping in the Great Hall and the rest of the students confined in their rooms. He has been assigned this area for his examination of the castle in search of—of the fugitive, so clearly he is the only one supposed to be there.
His legs tremble as he circles the room, looking in every nook and cranny as he tries to find inside himself the wish of finding something incriminating. Or maybe the man they are searching for in question.
But lying is way more difficult when you try doing it inside your mind.
When he decides there is clearly nothing there, Remus feels the tug towards the further railing. The one that looks directly into the Forbidden Forest. Obviously, he shouldn't. He should leave and keep looking. The Ancient Runes Department is still to be inspected.
It could wait, though, the Professor tells himself as he surrenders to his feelings and walks, slowly. Both because his hip is killing him and because he wants to delay a moment he has provoked himself.
Remus' thumb comes up on its own accord, the other fingers gripping the metal without any real force, just making contact. There it is. In the same place they had left it when they were 16 and young and in love.
It hadn't been his idea, but Remus never knew how to say no. He didn't want to at that moment. So, after observing his boyfriend scrape their initials inside a little heart in the railing with a pocket knife, Remus cast the preserving charm with a soft, sappy smile. He even received a kiss for his efforts.
RJL + SB(III)
Adding the detail that he was the third of his name had been stupid at that moment and it had made him laugh. Now, Remus just feels the sudden need to crumble and disappear.
As he feels how his eyes well up, the man decides to avert his gaze, but keeps caressing the indentations there, feeling the magic, the memories.
Inevitably, he finds himself looking at the Forbidden Forest and, maybe it is the good position of the waxing Moon, or his better sight due to the lycanthropy. Whatever it is, Remus sees it clearly. The shape of a big, ginormous even, dog sat there, looking up. Looking straight into the Astronomy Tower's last story.
And Remus feels those grey eyes boring into his brown ones as if it was more than a decade prior, even if it's impossible.
Neither Padfoot nor him move. Not until the dawn breaks through the horizon.
Im gonna be so real can yall actually talk about ways we can support trans women in the UK instead of giving all the attention to fucking JKR. I already know that Harry Poter sucks, I wanna know how to actually HELP people. Something something you have to love the oppressed more than you hate the oppressor
Regulus couldn’t look when the bride he was supposed to marry walked down the aisle towards him. His gaze stayed unfocused as she approached, thick veil covering her face. They had never met before, why would it matter what she looked like. It wasn’t like Regulus got a choice, he had to marry out of duty to his family, his parents. He didn’t have a choice.
He didn’t hear the words as the decrepit old man ceiling his doom droned on beside them, lost in his own head. Anxiety clawing up his throat, scratching at his skin. This was wrong, he couldn’t do this. He wanted to run and never stop.
He didn’t move.
His hands trembled slightly against his sides, his heart racing. He was having a full blown panic attack. He couldn’t breathe. Where had all the oxygen gone? Why couldn’t he breathe. Just inhale, it’s not that hard. His body wasn’t responding to his mind though, even as his lungs screamed.
Warm hands found his own, encircling his smaller pale ones in their larger grasp. Regulus inhaled, immediately feeling calmer. His gaze focused on the hands before him as the ceremony continued. These hands seemed familiar, like something he knew well. He couldn’t quite place why though, like a dream he’d just woken from, the connection staying just out of reach.
They were strong yet delicate in the way they held his, keeping him grounded but not trapped. He could feel slight callouses brush his smooth skin as she rubbed soothing circles against the back of his hands with her thumbs. He bemusedly thought it was surprising that his parents would let him marry someone who wasn’t white with their *cough* family tendencies. Then he noticed something, a white scar lining the top of one of her hands, a memory tried to push through the surface but he only got flashes, his brain still to out of it.
The priest said something and Regulus didn’t hear him, gentle pressure pressed into his hands and he refocused, spewing out his memorized lines. The priest continued and his soon to be wife uttered a quite response. Something about her tone felt familiar as well. Had they met before?
Regulus couldn’t think about that now though because this was it. The priest had said those final words and now he had to seal his own doom.
Regulus looked up, and up, and up, how tall was this girl seriously? Regulus hadn’t realized until now how big their height difference was, she was looming over him. They had to pick the tallest girl they could find. Now he had to be reminded how short he was for the rest of his life, he had terrible luck. His thoughts were quickly silenced as she lifted her veil and smiled down at him.
Time stood still.
Regulus couldn’t breathe, but for different reasons this time. He stared into the twinkling eyes of none other than James Fleamont Potter. He’d recognize those deep brown eyes anywhere, even under all the makeup and was that a wig? God, even dressed as a girl, James was beautiful. It was like staring into the sun. His sun. Regulus could never forget him even if he tried.
He sucked in a breath, a thousand questions flooding through his mind but there wasn’t time because all he needed to do now was say two words. James nodded at him, smile never leaving his face and Regulus said, “I do.”
James repeated it back and then they were exchanging rings, signing something and everything was moving so fast Regulus was barely paying attention, eyes locked on the man before him. How was this possible?
Then James was leaning in and they were kissing, it felt like every part of Regulus that had been missing was filled back in again. And then James was pulling away to whisper against his ear, “We might wanna start running now love. I’m amazed no one as recognized me yet.” And then they were sprinting hand in hand down the aisle, loud shouts surrounding them as the guests realized something was amiss. But they were already gone, laughing as they sprinted down the steps and into the awaiting car.
Sirius grinning at them as they piled in, “Hello little brother, thought the marauders could pull off one more stunt for your big day. Might of been our best one yet, yeah?”
James waved a document at Sirius’ face, “Legal too, guess we’re officially brothers after all!”
Sirius’ jaw fell in shock as he stared back at James. Regulus couldn’t wipe the smile off his face even if he’d tried.
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Barty's touch was light as a feather as he traced over Evan's top surgery scars for the first time. He's touched them many times before techincally— while helped Evan wash up during recovery, during the times Evan needed him to massage them because it hurt too much to do it himself— he's touched them. But never like this.
Evan didn't need his help, nor was he in pain. Now, Barty got to just adore them.
"They're beautiful." He mumbled reverently.
They were lying side by side; One of Evan's arms acting as a pillow for his head, Barty mirroring that except for his one extended arm.
Barty crooked his head up to look at Evan, who was already staring at him. No words really needed to be said between them, they both understood how much this meant to Evan, for him. This wasn't the start of him getting to feel comfortable in his body, but it was an important moment in that journey.
Barty's seen him many times, but now he was seeing Evan the way Evan wanted to be seen.
"You're beautiful."
Reaching out a hand, Evan cupped his cheek. There really were no words to describe what he was feeling right now. Nothing really fully captured the relief, the adoration, the love. The way he felt like he could breathe. The way his heart swelled knowing Barty loved him, no matter who he was, what he looked like, no matter what body he had. He just seemed to love Evan more and more.
There weren't enough lives to capture the love they felt for each other, especially in that moment.
"Thank you." His voice caught in his throat. Evan wasn't normally a very emotional person, but he couldn't help it.
"This…" means more to me than you'll ever know.
But he knew. He always understood Evan. That's what love is, isn't it?
Hey someone suggested I use ChatGPT to figure out adulting today, and as I was going through the mental list of places I'd rather look, I realized "beloved strangers on Tumblr dot net" was on that list.
So if you have an aspect of adulting that you're really good at-taxes, budgeting, cooking, insurance, credit, time management, house upkeep, anything-please feel free to reblog with any tips.
That's us! Professional internet adults, specializing in financial stuff! We recommend starting with our Grand List of All Articles, or one of our Masterposts:
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need To Know About Taxes
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about How to Increase Your Income
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Retirement and How to Retire
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Credit and Credit Cards
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Investing for Beginners
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about How to Pay off Debt
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need To Know About Living Independently for the First Time
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Repairing Our Busted-Ass World
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Self-Care
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Getting a Job, Raise, or Promotion
MASTERPOST: Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal
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The feeling of disdain of your own self, the scars that act as a reminder of your own luck, tired but can't sleep, that was a routine for Remus 🌕
Today's drawing is a little different from what I am used to drawing so I can't wait to know what you think 👀⭐✨ I imagined this pov as James or Sirius waking up in the middle of the night and finding Remus is still awake.
