#jily is mentioned

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

"Your clothes in the dryer. Your hair on the shower wall. Your toothbrush is too much. Your shoes empty in the hall."

James felt the absence before he saw it. He wondered how long he could keep everything resembling something normal. He wondered if he was the cheese that rots in the mousetrap. Regulus was everywhere, haunting him, taunting him. Regulus had belongings scattered all over his room; books on the bedside table, a quill on the desk since he disapproved of the glide of a biro, a grey blanket cast carelessly over the window seat. He remembered them wrapped up in it, Regulus telling him that their brains were 75% water and even then, that water was already on its way to become something else. The rain. The snow. The condensation on his window. James doesn't know how much water they shared. He hoped he'd feel him in the rain or the snow or in the condensation and know. You borrowed this water from him, ergo he is still here.

"The books on your shelf that you never read. The hunting knife you kept by your bed. The flowers you dried and tied up with twine, suspended from the ceiling."

Regulus knew that you couldn't be in two places at once. He couldn't love him and keep him. He couldn't succeed and lose everything. He didn't mean to not say goodbye, but omission is wishful thinking. James' face was undeniably hopeful when they parted for his final summer break. He couldn't say he was scared of the future or the person he had become. Regulus knew that just because something is left unsaid, it doesn't lose its meaning. A bag packed with hidden intention is still deceitful. A goodbye kiss is a goodbye kiss, even when only one pair of lips knows. Regulus could not live the life he desired and the one he was destined for. Regulus was named after the stars and so he trusted that his future had been written in them for as long as the cosmos existed. Yet he was selfish, quill to parchment, master to servant. It was unfair of him to make the request to Kreacher, to deliver the letter in a moment of quiet. It was unfair of him to give the directions ‘To James Potter, on his kitchen table, at dawn of the chosen day.’

"You tell me you love me, like it'll be the last time. Like you're playing out, the end of a storyline. I say I love you too, because it's true. What else am I supposed to do?"

It was the tail end of summer in 1980 when the letter came. Settled on the edge of the dining table in Godric's Hollow, as if knowing James was always the first awake, it sat addressed to him. He would know that handwriting on his deathbed, it stayed sat in his lowest desk drawer. The envelope was crisp with time, the ink faded from black to grey. The parchment had fared no better. Yellowed and splattered with faint water marks. He saw the words on the page and yet, not a single one made sense. James thinks of Harry, still flushed red with the newfound world, and Lily, who shone brighter than sun, who guided him home. James had made a life he couldn’t give back. He’d committed to woman, son and war. He thinks of all he lost to get here and why it came back. It feels like flying along the coast. Sea as far as the eye can see. Then abruptly, land.

"Begin, be done. Break a vow, make a new one. Call me if you need a friend, or never talk to me again. But please stay."

To the moon,

If you are reading this, I am dead, and you have moved on. Know I did not leave without saying goodbye because I wanted to consider that I might see you just once more. There is something I must do because I believe it may save you. I’d search one hundred oceans and one hundred caves. I’d drink from the cursed cup and yet not ask for your forgiveness. ‘I used to love you’ is not a phrase I shall entertain. There is only love. Nothing else. Even this I do selfishly. I would love to go back to how we were, wrapped in grey blankets, tracing shapes in windowpanes. Know that all my goodness is owed to you, my life is an oath in ode to you.

Please live. Please burn the letters and look ahead. Do not miss the lilies bloom.

R.A.B

wc: 770 // @jegulus-microfic

[that-bitch-kat3]

lily: i’m bisexual

anyone: how is that possible? you’ve only dated james?

lily: that doesn’t mean i’m not bisexual.

remus: yeah it means she’s stupid

[regulus-cannot-swim]

It's cannon to me that Remus, Lily, and Regulus became a study group in 2nd or 3rd year

Sirius and James also suddenly started going to the library around that time. Both of them claim it's so that they can actually study, but it's no one's business but their own if they spend more time eyeing their respective crushes than actually getting any studying done

[souryam]

there's like virtually nothing you can say to me or quotes u can throw in my face to convince me that 20 year old Lily was fine and ok with her husband (a.k.a basically the only person she has around) sneaking out at night to. what. annoy muggle police officers? So many people say "oh no she was talking fondly" and I never got it bc I've always read it as her coming across as annoyed. annoyed but trying to tone it down giving that it was a letter to Sirius. Like imagine you're 20 year old with a newly born baby having to live in almost complete isolation in the middle of a war and a half of the parental unit just decides to dip every Wednesday for #boysnight like what

[antsrust]

The LOML J.F.P

[commit-arson-immediately]

Ok but jegulus band au where they broke up a bit ago over a misunderstanding cuz theyre incapable of communicating and regulus writes golden retriever boy and James writes yours and they come out within days of each other and like the absolute chaos that comes from that

[iamnmbr3]

This parallels Draco and Harry's first confrontation on the train.

I bet James came to find Lilly’s compartment every year too.

[jfleamont]

@jilytoberfest @jilymicrofics - 337 words - Week 2 Prompt:

Smoke

“I am finished.”

“You're not.”

“McGonagall is going to take my Head Girl badge away.”

Lily was looking straight ahead, and if the circumstances had been different he would have thought that she was just enjoying the view from the Astronomy tower, but she was avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, come on, she only saw you smoke, and she didn't say a word. And, she's seen me doing worse things.”

She shook her head. “You should have seen the look on her face! And it's different, James... No offence, but you're not risking much. You're a pureblood.”

“McGonagall isn't.”

Her head turned so fast that he was afraid she got whiplash. “What?”

“Her dad's a muggle. And you know she doesn't care about that stuff. It's our first week back and you're just nervous, I get it, but you're overthinking this. Plus, it's not like it was, you know... pot,” he whispered the last word, shooting her a knowing look.

“I don't know what you're referring to.”

She had a great poker face, he had to admit it.

“Mmh. I probably just dreamt that you were high as a hippogriff this summer at my house.”

“Yes.”

“And I must have imagined you trying to ride Sirius's bike, right?”

The left corner of her mouth turned up, and a dimple appeared. “You have a creative mind, what can I say?”

“Lily,” he admonished her.

“James,” her chin high in defiance, a challenge in her eyes.

He raised one eyebrow, and that was all it took to break both of them. Her laugh was loud and bright, and she had regained that mischievous glint in her eyes.

He recovered first and, still smiling, leaned on the railing again, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“You know, I broke into Minnie's office once. I'm 96% sure she has a secret stash of catnip and if she catches you while you're high, I'll get that for you so you can blackmail her.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour.”

[moonlightdancer26]

Can you give your take on this? Because for the life of me I can’t comprehend why lily started dating James right after the worst memory.

Like yeah you’re upset and rightfully fair too, but I feel like she sorta had a liking for James way before the whole thing with sev, like she must’ve thought he’s amusing or something, and I kinda feel like severus might have seen it too, but of course that’s just my thinking.

Correction: She didn’t actually date James right after SWM, she began dating him in 7th year, which was around 2 years after SWM occurred. I don’t think she could be that cruel to date James right after he did something that awful to Snape lol.

I do think she was at least attracted to James during SWM, JKR herself has even confirmed that Lils somewhat fancied James during that period (“You’re a woman, you know what I mean!” no.. no I don’t, JKR 🤨). Her behaviour with James in SWM was concerning as hell, her best friend was legitimately on the ground after just having been choked with soapsuds and her first reaction was to not even glance at him and automatically start bickering with James and talking about his broomstick and his “stupid hair.” 💀 like Lily ily but.. wtf are you doing??

But to be fair to Lils, when she dated James, she genuinely thought he had changed and became a better person. She wouldn’t have dated him if he was still bullying Snape and other people, she would’ve still been attracted to him like she was in SWM, but she wouldn’t have actually gone out with him. However, my issue with that is the fact that she was willing to go out with him AFTER she saw that he SA’d and bullied her (at the time) best friend for YEARS. Lames shippers like to say “oh but she and Snape weren’t friends anymore!! She didn’t ‘owe him anything!’” but like.. at the time, Snape was her best friend of 7 years, and James (knowing that they were friends) had no issue blatantly torturing him and publicly exposing him and then blackmailed Lily (not Snape, but Lily herself) into going out with him. This isn’t an issue about Snape or them not being friends anymore or whatever, it’s the fact that James—at least at one point of his life—had literally zero issue hurting the person Lily cared about and blackmailing her and threatening to hex her. The fact that he was even capable of SA, choking someone with soapsuds, immobilising them, relentlessly bullying them for years, all while knowing that they were someone Lily cared about, should have sent her running for the HILLS. All of that is putting aside that he also had no problem blackmailing Lily and then threatening to hex her when she wanted to defend her friend (“?? wtf girl? How dare you try to help out your friend after I just SA’d them and blackmailed you?? You better not make me hex you too 😠”).

And to make things worse…… what did James even do to change?? Stop bullying people?? Wow so incredible of him! That’s definitely going to reverse the damage of the people he did all that shit to! We should all applaud him for doing the absolute bare minimum!! I should definitely look past him assaulting my now-ex-best-friend-but-who-was-still-someone-I-cared-about-and-respected-at-one-point-in-my-life for 6 whole years, even though he never actually apologised to my now-ex-best-friend… which… would’ve been the proof that he actually changed… Oh who cares? I’m definitely going to date him anyway!

Like, I don’t even care if I wasn’t friends with that person anymore, the fact that YOU had no problem assaulting that person and making their life miserable for YEARS even though you know how much I care about them and then trying to force me into going out with you would be enough for me to not want to go out with you. Simply knowing that you were capable of doing such atrocious things to ANY human being is horrifying. That isn’t even regarding that he showed no hard evidence of changing, merely stopping the bullying does nothing to heal the victim of what you put them through. Like, if I went out and killed a bunch of people, and I suddenly decide to stop killing people, does that mean I’m not guilty of murder?

So, I don’t hate Lily, but I’m definitely not fond of her character. All her scenes show her being pretty unpleasant and she ended up marrying JAMES of all people, so yeah I’m definitely not going to think very highly of her intelligence level…

Anyway, that’s my take. I’m sorry for how long this got, but your ask really triggered something in me that’s been waiting to rant about this 💀

[resident-gay-bitch]

Remus loves books, he loves reading so much and Sirius knows this. He knows this so well because half the time when he wants Remus to look at him, and pay attention to him, Remus simply just won’t because he’s so bloody, infuriatingly, adorably invested in whatever book it is he’s reading.

It doesn’t even matter the genre, Sirius has learnt, nor that it’s fictional or otherwise. Just words on yellowing pages, with cracked spines and a warm smell emanating from within, that’s what Remus loves. He likes to escape there, to lose focus, time, and reality. And Sirius respects it.

He used to love reading himself, when he was younger. His favorite books were fantasy action. He got lost in the tales and strange lands, imagining himself as the noble hero, saving lives and running off into the sunset on a noble steed, or perhaps even with a lover.

He’s lost the knack for it these days, mostly. Sometimes he still picks up a book to read, if it really captivates him. Or if it’s so painstakingly good that Remus, rather than just expressing that it was enjoyable to read and outlining the basic plot, rambles about it for ages. Especially if he goes back and reads it a second time over, taking a quill to the pages, underlining his favorite phrases, adding exclamation marks for emphasis, and writing out every thought he has about it.

Sirius always reads those, but mostly for Remus’ input. And mostly so he can sit there and listen to Remus talk about it again, and get so brilliantly excited when Sirius agrees that particular characters sucked, or when they disagree about how certain plot points were brilliant, or how painstakingly heartbreaking the use of symbolism added so much depth to the entire book.

Sirius has two large bookshelves in his room. Both of them he’s built himself because he refuses to let Effie and Flea spend any extra money on him, and he himself doesn’t want to spend money on bookshelves when he can just make them. He also made Remus one, when he first learnt just how much Remus likes to read, when he first moved in with James. He’s still very proud of it to this day.

Point is, he has two large bookshelves, and they’re each only half full of books. There are other things on them, taking up the space. Such as his record collection, which is excessive now, and brilliant, and takes up a lot of space. It’s also riddled with gadgets, and thingamabobs, and dust collectors, and whatsits, as well as little things he’s tinkered.

He’s building himself another shelf at the moment, this one will have a stained glass door- so, more of a cabinet, he supposes. It’s made especially for his records, measured to fit the height and width of them perfectly with just a little wiggle room. That, once it’s done, will clear out plenty of space on his bookshelf for more books.

He’ll build himself another shelf or two, he thinks. Ones to mount one the wall, a place to keep all his little things that don’t really have a place, other than randomly on his bookshelves. He wants to leave as much room as possible.

Because, see, Sirius doesn’t read much. And the books he does read are already found on his shelf, or Remus’, because he borrows them.

But Remus reads a lot. He’s always looking for new books, everywhere he goes. Sirius can’t count the times he’s been pulled into random stores just to look at books for hours, only for Remus to walk out empty handed.

Because Remus doesn’t have the money for books. He never has. Maybe a few, here and there, cheep ones that is, from second hand stores. And on his birthday and Christmas his parents spoil him by picking out a couple of big ones.

But Remus’ money is saved for things other than books.

That hasn’t been much of an issue, because there are libraries. He spends a lot of time in the library at Hogwarts, when they’re there. And over the breaks, he spends it in the library by his house. And he borrows books from Sirius, and James, and Lily, and Peter, and Mary, and Marlene too.

But the thing is, Remus is running out of books. And sure, he’s happy to read the non fictional books, ones about the history of magic, or life in the trenches of the First Muggle World War, or how to bake cakes, or the biography of Salazar Slytherin, or whatever the hell else he can find. But nothing captivates him the way a good story can.

He needs tales to escape in between the more boring stuff. Remus never raves about the non-fiction. Sure, he tells Sirius random facts when he finds them out, or puts his new knowledge to use. But the novelty of a made up world excites him.

Sirius likes to watch Remus read fiction. He likes to watch Remus shift in his chair and tense his shoulders, he likes to watch blush bloom over Remus’ cheeks with a giddy smile as his eyes twinkle and lock onto the page. He also likes when he hears Remus’ sharp gasps, and gets to look up to find him sitting in the most awkward, on edge positions as he fixedly reads, and watches as tears begin to roll down Remus’ cheeks and dance over freckles.

He mostly likes when Remus smiles at his page, sure and familiar, a knowing look in his eye that makes him glimmer right before he looks up to try and find Sirius in the room, and blush immediately when he does before tucking his face back into the pages. Sirius likes that one the best, because he knows, whatever Remus read, it made him think of Sirius. He especially likes when Remus scribbles something on the page right after, or just dog ears the corner so he’ll never loose the page.

Sirius really likes when Remus finds a good story, and Remus clearly also likes when he finds a good Story. Remus doesn’t have the funds to by himself stories and has read his way through the entirety of his local libraries fictional section, as well as everything on Sirius’ own shelf twice.

But Sirius does have the funds for books. He has part of the inheritance his uncle Alphard left when he died, he has his weekly allowance from the Potters, as does James, and he has money saved up from working in Mrs Florence’ garden across the road all summer.

So he goes out, and buys books, and hopes Remus hasn’t read them.

He gets home, and puts them on his own shelf, because the last time Sirius bought a book for Remus just simply because he wanted to, Remus slapped him with the book, made his knee buckle with his cane, and told Sirius to never spend his money on him again.

So naturally, Sirius stole him a book, and Remus hit him twelve times with the new book, called him a stupid fucking idiot, and made him promise to never do it again.

He then promptly went and read the book, and made a note at the very back that Sirius was the one who got it for him, with a star placed by his name, thinking Sirius wouldn’t notice. Because Sirius would never snoop through Remus’ bookshelf when he’s not looking to try and read whatever annotations from Remus’ brain he could, hoping to find one that Remus made after doing his adorable glance and thinking of Sirius. No, no he’d never do that, Remus, he promises.

So Sirius buys himself books, ones that wouldn’t look too out of place sitting on his shelves, ones he doesn’t recognise Remus ever holding (though, that doesn’t mean much as Remus reads at the pace of a race car, Sirius is sure there’s a new book in his hand each time Sirius looks up), and prays Remus will like them. He thinks he will. He likes most books.

Sirius just hopes he makes annotations in them before he remembers they’re not his books, and puts them back on Sirius’ shelf to find.

So Sirius stacks them on his shelf, and waits for Remus to take the bait.

The first time Remus comes into his room once they’re there, he clearly notices, but doesn’t comment. So Sirius goes out to buy another.

The second time, he makes a comment, asking if Sirius ever actually reads the books he carelessly spends money on, and nothing else.

So Sirius buys another book, and begins to read the one with the most interesting cover. He makes sure the spine is cracked, the pages withered, and a crease on the cover from bending it wrong.

Remus notices it, the next time he visits, and asks if Sirius enjoyed it. He didn’t mind it, but he tells Remus he really liked the character named Liam (who reminds him vividly of Remus), and recommends it. Remus takes it home. Sirius rambles to James about how brilliantly smart his plan is for hours.

The next time Remus comes around, he returns the book. It’s in a similar state to when Sirius had last seen it, besides a few extra wrinkles on the spine, and creased pages. Sirius smiles and admires it for a while once Remus has left, with another book, another one Sirius made himself read, he didn’t like that one at all.

Naturally, Remus really enjoyed that one. They argue about it for a while, and Remus tosses the book at Sirius with a laugh, and Sirius resists the urge to throw himself back at Remus.

James and Peter go out in the sun, but Remus’ hip is bad that day, so Sirius stays inside with him. He sits and watches Remus read, it’s one of his own books, one he’s read at least four times before. He’s got a pen between his teeth that he keeps pulling out to scribble things down before placing it back.

Sirius wishes he were a pen.

Remus finishes his book and whines about it for a while, because he doesn’t have another, and he can’t stand to go outside. So Sirius gets up, grabs a book, and plops it in Remus’ lap. Remus blushes. It’s some muggle book, it’s about magic folk, and fairies, and a really cool protagonist with long black hair and tattoos and a winning grin.

He’s not even shy when he tells Remus he bought it so he could read about himself. Remus lightly thwacks him with his cane and tells Sirius to fuck off.

Sirius sits on the bed, and grabs Remus’ discarded book, and opens it up to page one. Already there, marked in blurry ink on the first page reads: this is what it feels like to have a star wish on you, right back. Sirius smiles, and begins to read, mostly for Remus’ annotations, but the book is good no less. It’s about doomed love, written through the metaphore of the night sky, and unsettling undertones of cannibalalistic desire, all wrapped up in one neat little bow that ties itself off with an accidental murder suicide.

Honestly, Sirius understands why Remus likes it now. He’s heard Remus talk about it in great detail before but bloody hell, it’s good. And Remus’ annotations make it better.

“Bloody-fuck.” Remus gasps, catching Sirius off guard. He sticks his head up and wonders how on earth Remus had gotten to the “bloody-fuck” part of the story yet, that’s over halfway through, and they’ve only been reading for twenty minuets.

“What’s the issue?” Sirius asks.

“Do you have an eraser?” Remus asks, “A magic one, for ink? Can’t use my wand.”

“Erm, no…” Sirius mutters. He knows Flea has one in his office, and he’s allowed to go get it if he ever needs, knowing it sits in the top left drawer, right by the paperclips. But he doesn’t say that, not yet.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Remus mumbles, “I forgot it wasn’t- I just… I still had the pen in my mouth.”

Sirius feels his heart race, “Remus, did you… write in my book?”

Remus looks so ashamed, and he holds up the neat pages and flips through all that he’s read, and… yeah, there’s a lot in there already. Scribbled lines, phrases, exclamation points, question marks, little stars drawn everywhere.

Sirius feels himself fall a little harder in love, “You can write in my book.” He mutters and swallows, “You can write in all of my books, whatever you like. It doesn’t matter, I probably won’t read most of them anyway.” Sirius lies. If they have Remus’ annotations he certainly will.

“Why would you buy them then?”

Sirius shrugged, “I had empty space on my bookshelf… I like having them there. Besides, I could read them, you know, I just… usually don’t.”

Remus snickers and shakes his head, “You’re strange- like a dragon. You’re a dragon that hoards treasure. Your treasure is books.”

Wrong, Sirius thinks, my treasure is you.

“A dragon.” Sirius mutters, “Do you fear me, Remus, a big mighty dragon?”

Remus scoffs and turns back to the book, “You’re such a small dragon you don’t even have the ability to fly.”

Sirius throws his pillow at Remus’ head. Remus laughs, flipping Sirius off, which only spurs him on.

Sirius promptly jumps off the bed and changes to Padfoot midway through the air, landing right on the arm of the chair Remus occupies before crawling all over him.

“Get off me, you stupid mutt!” Remus laughs, tacking Padfoot away, “You’re going to rip the book.”

Padfoot only barks and wags his tail high in the air.

Remus laughs again, sticking his good leg out where Sirius now sits on the ground, he uses it to pet Sirius’ side as he fixes his hair and book.

Padfoot tilts his head up at Remus, tongue hanging out of his mouth, as he watches.

“I can really write in it?”

Padfoot scoots closer, licking Remus’ knee.

Remus snickers and shoes him away, “You’re so gross, Padfoot. Your dog slobber stinks, you know that?”

Padfoot barks, resting his paw on top of Remus’ hand for a moment.

“Fine.” Remus breaths, “But you can write in mine too, that means.”

Sirius will be, he knows it.

Padfoot, however, watches Remus go back to reading, too invested to pay him any mind now. He plucks the pen from his ear and starts making more marks. Padfoot rests his head on Remus’ knee, and mindlessly, Remus reaches out to pet him.

That’s how James and Peter find them, two hours later. Remus deeply concentrated, halfway through his book, and Padfoot looking up at him like he hung the sky. James teases Sirius mercilessly about it later.

Over the week, Sirius reads. He reads Remus’ book, the one he left behind so Sirius could finish reading. And Sirius takes a red inked pen, because one time Remus said Sirius looks good in the colour red, and makes his own annotations. There aren’t many, as there isn’t much room left and Remus has basically said it all, but he underlines the things he likes, and draws wonky little circles half shaded in by the things that make him think of Remus (they’re supposed to be moons, and he hopes Remus won’t be able to tell at first, because the first wonky circle is placed right next to the phrase: nothing consumes her they way the need to taste his skin on her tongue does-).

The next time Sirius sees Remus, they’re at the Lupins. He brought Remus’ book with his own red annotations, and two other books, one about space, and one about a dog that dies.

He’s almost at the end of the one where the dog dies, and it’s honeslty devastating. It’s bound to make Remus sad. So very, very sad.

They sit on Remus’ bed, Remus up by the headboard, and Sirius himself laying over the foot on his stomach, a pillow tucked under his chin.

He’s crying, down to the last pages of his book, his heart being ripped out of his chest as he reads. When he started crying, Remus silently extended his legs and crossed them, letting his heels sit on the small of Sirius’ back. Because Remus is brilliant, and he knows Sirius likes to be touched when he’s sad.

He closes his book with a sigh, buries his face in the pillow, and screams. Remus laughs.

“You have to read this, Moony. It’s devastating.” Sirius sobs.

“If you insist.” Remus agrees, still reading his book.

“The dog dies!” Sirius rolls onto his side to look at him, “He dies, Remus, isn’t that horrible. I mean- it was bad enough for me, I can’t imagine what it would be like for you.”

Remus glances up over his book at raises an eyebrow at Sirius.

“You know…” Sirius sniffles, rubbing his nose before waving his hand through the air, “Because I’m a dog, and you won’t be able to stop thinking about me, and losing me, and-“

A pillow was thrown at his head so hard it shoved him back. But Sirius loves the dramatics, so he takes it further, and rolls until he topples off the end of the bed and groans about betrayal. Remus pretends not to listen, Remus continues to read. Sirius wants to give him the world.

Sirius eventually gets up and selects a book off of Remus’ shelf, admiring his own handiwork for a moment. He flicks the book open, and finds no annotations, so he puts it back. He grabs another, finds the same, and repeats.

“What are you looking for?” Remus asks.

Unashamedly, Sirius tells him, “One with your thoughts written out. Those are my favourites.” He picks up another, sifts through, and puts it back.

He turns when Remus is quiet for a while, he’s grinning, like he expects to find Remus with his head in his book, so distracted he didn’t hear. But he’s not.

Remus is blushing, and he’s looking at Sirius so curiously.

“I like your thoughts.” Sirius clears his throat, “You’re smart, they’re interesting. Besides, I hate not knowing what’s going to happen, you always manage to make correct predictions, so good at picking up clues.”

Remus smiles and ducks his head before reaching out and grabbing a book off his bedside. He tosses it at Sirius, “That one’s a children’s novel. It’s about a frog. I’ve annotated it seven times.”

“Brilliant.” Sirius grins, plopping himself back down on his bed and opening the book, “I love frogs.”

Remus laughs, a quiet laugh, embarrassed and bashful. They both continue to read. Sirius pulls out his pen and scribbles a red, wonky circle when the frog finds himself in love.

Four weeks later, and Sirius and Remus have been swapping books back and forth in trade. Remus takes his pick of whatever is on Sirius’ shelf, or whatever he’s “accidentally” left at Remus’ place, and in turn, Sirius reads whatever books Remus has annotated. Eventually, he begins to read his own, purely for Remus’ annotations.

Remus never fails to leave annotations, and Sirius leaves them right back.

One time, Sirius even worked up the courage to write annotations in one of his own books before handing it off for Remus to read, just in hopes of Remus liking them too.

He does. He circles Sirius’ annotations with his own black ink, and adds little stars in random places, and he even goes so far as to argue with Sirius in the margins.

This week, they meet at the movies with James and Peter. As they wait in the popcorn line together, Sirius hands him two books. One of Remus’ own that he’s returning, and one from his collection. He read it, another book about love. There was a line about reliability, and loyalty, and pure, blinding admiration, even in petty fights and bickering, and Sirius took a bold step and wrote: This reminds me of us.

Remus returns the book about a fierce dragon, and slaps a new one in his hands about a man driven to murder by his untidy roommate, “Maybe you’ll learn something from this one, hmm?”

Sirius didn’t get it until the book was done, and he had read every snarky remark aimed right at Sirius that Remus wrote, including the note at the end that requested Sirius keep his mess to his corner of the room before Remus is driven to a murderous fate. Sirius laughed so hard James came rushing into the room out of pure concern.

The next time they exchanged books, Sirius gave him one titled The Picture of Dorian Grey. Remus had already read it. Sirius scoffed, knowing this would happen sooner or later. However, when Sirius moved to put it back in his bag, Remus snatched it away. He only borrowed it last time, so now he could write his annotations, which excited him. It excited Sirius too.

“I have a strange one for you.” Remus said, handing it over nervously, “I… I’ve read this one a lot.”

“Okay?” Sirius asked, taking it slowly, looking at the cover, so withered he couldn’t clearly make out the image.

Remus swallowed, “It’s really one of my favorites.”

“I can’t wait, then.” Sirius grinned, flicking through it quickly and seeing almost no room to leave his own messages.

Remus nodded, “Just… just beware, okay?”

“Okay, Remus, I’ve got it.” Sirius snickered, wiggling the book like a fan, “What, has it got like, wild kinky sex in it. Does this book delve into your deepest desires, Remus? Does it make you feel sexy?” Sirius teases.

Remus swallows and turns his gaze away.

Sirius’ jaw goes slack, “Oh, my Merlin- I… it does.”

Remus blush’s, “Look- it’s not like that, it’s just-“ He mumbles, hiding his head in his hands, “Yes, there is a sex scene in it, near the end. It’s very long, and very detailed. But that’s not- I’m not trying to be weird, okay? I’d prefer to not give you a sexy book-“

Sirius snickers, “I was only teasing, Remus, it’s fine. Is that the weird bit? The long, sensual sex scene?”

“Mostly… it’s… well, I suppose it’s everything that leads up to it.” Remus swallows.

“Got it.” Sirius nods, and because he’s his own worst enemy, he asks, “Do you get off to it?”

Remus’ front door promptly slams in his face, and no matter how hard he knocks, or laughs, or pretends he’s joking, Remus does not open the door.

Sirius goes home, and he very pointedly does not pick up the book. He’s too nervous now. To nervous to read about this sex scene in Remus’ most favorite book and wonder if he’s ever… Sirius flops face down into his pillow and goes to annoy James instead.

When they meet up to swap back, Sirius still hasn’t read the book yet. He makes up an excuse, telling Remus he hasn’t been focused enough to read something important. Remus doesn’t seem to believe him, he seems so disappointed. He gives Sirius back The Picture Of Dorian Gray and barely talks for the remainder of their time spent together.

When Sirius gets home, he flips through Remus’ annotations, reading them all, and having to do a double take at one. Sure, there are plenty of snide comments about Sirius’ good looks, comparing him to Dorian and making theories on how Sirius must be in a similar situation. But there’s one that makes Sirius’ heart race: I’m annoyed at you. This entire fucking book Dorian’s been described as the most beautiful fucking man on earth and the only face I can fucking picture is yours you bloody idiot. Stop being beautiful, please? It’s detrimental to my sanity.

Sirius’ breath hitched in his throat. He ran to James, immediately, crashing into his room and jumping on the bed, not even caring he’s just interrupted James with his shirt off in a very compromising position with Lily. He doesn’t even care that she’s there.

“Look at this, James, read-“

“Really, Sirius? Now?”

“I’m sorry, Prongs, but you’ve got your happy ending so I don’t care- look.” Sirius shoves the page in his face, “What does this mean?”

James shoves on his glasses and gives Lily an apologetic glance before reading, “What the fuck do you think it means, Sirius?”

“I don’t know.” Sirius breathes, running his fingers over the black ink, “It could mean anything-“

“Sirius!” James laughed, flinging his hands into the air, “It means exactly whatever the hell your heart thinks it means, probably.”

Sirius glares and James and turns to Lily, “You’re smart, what do-“

“Might I remind you, Remus is my best friend, Sirius?” Lily smirked, “So no, I won’t be saying anything, and if you’re smart, you’ll know that’s enough. And I warn you, I will be telling him about this.”

Sirius swallowed and glared at her, “Shit.”

“Shit in deed, Romeo.” She giggled, “Go away please.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighed, crawling off the bed, “Not too loud, please.”

James tossed a pillow at him.

“Hey, Sirius?” Lily asked, catching his attention, “You should read his book.”

“Right.” Sirius swallows, and very pointedly does not do that. He goes to make dinner with Effie and Flea, and ask them questions about it instead. They just say the same things James did, and they’re old and happy and very in love, so he actually trusts that.

That night, he lies in bed, a lamp over his shoulder, and he learns extactly why Remus seemed so nervous to share this book. Especially about the sex part, which was… well, it was really sexy. Like, so sexy. Sirius didn’t think anything could ever get that sexy. All he could think about whilst reading was Remus, and how badly he wanted to do those things to Remus, and how he wanted Remus to do those things to him. It was terrible, really.

So good, and so terrible, and so delightfully strange to read about. Because, in the start, the main character was engaged to a very wonderful woman. But by the end, he had left her. He left her because he loved a man. Two men in love. Remus’ favorite book was gay, with so many annotations about his own experiences, with a gay sex scene, with annotations about how much Remus liked the sex scene.

And most of all…

Sirius knew exactly what a lot of those annotations meant. Because around them were little stars. Within them they used “he” and “him” and terms of longing and yearning and… and then it got to a point midway through the book where things changed.

Remus stopped writing things like: I think of him. He’s more beautiful. I’m scared to lose him too.

Instead, he just used one word. One word scribbled everywhere. Beside so many different phrases, with different intentions and different feelings. One word that shattered it all, and that word was: Sirius.

Beside the phrase, he’s so beautiful, I hate him.

Beside the phrase, I miss him, I never got to have him but I miss him, no less.

Beside the phrase, kissing the expanse of his throat is something I think about often, no thought could be as beautifully filthy as mine when he’s around.

Beside the phase, I love him.

“Wakey, wake- oh, you’re up love. Are you alright, I’ve never seen you up with the sun before.” Effie teases as she walks into his room.

Sirius turns to her, eyes blinking. They’re red rimmed from crying. He didn’t realise it was morning. He still has the book in his lap, open to the last page where there’s a message. It’s an apology, and then that apology is taken right back and replaced with a heart.

“I didn’t sleep.” He muttered.

“Oh…” Effie mutters when she sees the state of him, “My darling boy, are you-“

“I have to go.” Sirius whispers.

“What?” She asks.

“I have to go.” Sirius says with more urgency, and he scrambles to his feet and makes a run for it.

“Shoes, dear!” Effie calls, and Sirius runs right back. He stuffs his feet in his slippers and runs off again, “Teeth!”

Sirius races back and hurriedly brushes his teeth. She calls for him again to change his clothes and eat when he tries to leave again, but he doesn’t bother. He just grabs the book and runs, tying not to slip in his slippers.

“Where’s he going?” James asked, standing his his doorway.

“Im not sure.” Effie said, “He’s still in his pyjamas. All he had was a book-“

“A blue one?” James asked.

Effie nodded. James rapt his knuckles on the doorframe and ducked his head inside, “Lily, he’s doing it!”

“Oh, yes!” She shouts back.

James gets a slap on the back of his head, “Did you sneak your girlfriend in over night, James Fleaumont Potter?”

James goes red, “Erm… no?”

Sirius is rushing. He couldn’t get Elvendork up and running, she still needs a few more tweaks. So he’s running there instead. All the way to Remus’ at who knows what time of morning.

When he gets there, he’s panting. He knocks on the door, but there’s no answer.

Lyall is probably at work, Hope is probably tending to her garden out back, and Remus is no doubt still sleeping. He’s worse than Sirius, he’ll sleep until something wakes him up, meaning he’ll sleep through till the next morning if nothing does.

Sirius doesn’t wait, he’s around the corner and shoving open Remus’ window, and hauling himself in before he can even think about it.

The desk that usually sits under Remus’ window is not there. So when Sirius dives in head first, expecting to catch himself on a desk, he’s rather shocked to come toppling down to the floor face first.

He groans, splayed out there on the ground, looking at the roof.

“What… the fuck?” He hears Remus mutter, and he pokes his head up to find that Remus is in the process of rearranging his room.

Sirius furrows his brow and looks at the time, “Why the fuck are you up and active at seven ten in the morning?” He runs his face and sits up, “Why are you rearranging your room?”

“I was stressed.” Remus swallowed, “Didn’t sleep.”

“Why?” Sirius groaned, his nose hurts, so he pokes it, which doesn’t help.

“Lily said you read what I wrote about you in Dorian Gray… called me, said you were asking what it meant.”

“Yeah, uhm- ow.” Sirius poked his face again.

“Don’t do that.” Remus grumbled, reaching for his cane and walking over to help Sirius up.

“Sorry.” Sirius yawns, his lack of sleep catching up to him.

“Why are you up?” Remus asked, “You don’t do anything before nine if you don’t have too.”

Sirius smiles, Remus knows him so well, “Didn’t sleep either.”

“Why not?” Remus hummed, casually leaning on his cane in that suave way he does. James doesn’t think it’s suave, he tells Sirius it’s just normal, but Sirius knows better than James. He’s blinded by love, of course he knows better than James.

“Was reading.” Sirius swallowed, holding up the book and wiggling it in his hands, “Uh… I made some annotations back… where they fit.”

Yeah, basically just Remus’ name right beside his own, everywhere, and lots of little moons. He even underlined one very sexy line in the dirty scene that really made him think of Remus, and drew and arrow pointing to it, and wrote both of their names with a heart around them.

“Oh.” Remus swallowed, taking the book when Sirius handed it back.

They were both blushing.

“Go on, open it.” Sirius mumbled, nodding for encouragement.

So slowly, tentatively, Remus did. He opened the book, midway through, and found his name, and little moons, and a million hearts scribbled everywhere there was space.

Remus dropped the book.

Sirius leant down to pick it up, because he’s always willing to do things for Remus. He always will be. He buys books with all the money he’s meant to be saving, to put them on his own shelf, so that Remus might browse and find something he likes. He just wants to please Remus. To make him happy. To make his life a little simpler.

“Oh, careful, it’s on the brink of falling-“ As Sirius stood back up with it, Remus kissed him. Very quick and very short but very on the lips, “apart.” Sirius squeezed out, “Oh.”

“Oh.” Remus muttered.

“Well…” Sirius swallowed, walking past Remus to put the book down on the desk. Because Sirius is respectful of Remus’ things, always has been, and what he wants to do to Remus right now is probably not very respectful. He turns back, and he grabs him, with everything he has, “You’re mine now.”

“Oh…” Remus mumbled as Sirius kissed him, pulling him down onto the bed, careful to help take the weight off Remus’ hip. Because he’s always thinking of Remus like that.

He lays them down, the way that makes Remus most comfortable, and he presses tight against him, and he kisses Remus with all the strength, and love, and devotion he has.

Sirius never stops buying books, and Remus pretends he never figures out what Sirius is doing. And in their own little house, when they buy one a few years later, Sirius fills a whole room with bookshelves just for Remus, and fills them until they’re overflowing.

He never gets tired of watching Remus read. And he never gets tired of seeing his own name written down in the margins of whatever love story Remus just finished reading.

★ ★ ★

This came to me in a dream. I don’t even know why. It was a vision and I just had to write it so… enjoy?

Also, I just had the image of the Ben Barnes fancast edits using the Dorian Grey clips in my head whilst writing this so I had to reference it. I’m pretty sure canonically Dorian doesn’t even look remotely like Sirius, and honeslty, that just makes Remus’ pining even more pathetic lamo.

Also, none of these books (besides Dorian) referenced are real. I wrote this between 2-4 am so I really had no brain cells left that could use real references lol. This was just fun.

If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it here <3

Wonderful Wolfstar lovers who were interested: @lemongrass77777 @weirdtinkerbellversion @lapassemirroir

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

Isn’t it weird that I, who follows every Jegulus related tag there is and countless Jegulus obsessed people and their blogs, can’t seem to find the toxic side of the Jegulus shippers? Like, ANYWHERE? I haven’t seen a single toxic Jegulus shipper yet. I HAVE, however, seen TONS of Jily shippers being toxic and even going so far as telling Jegulus shippers to go die. And although I love Jily too, I don’t follow any Jily tag at all (at closer thought, maybe I should. Anyways-).

So tell me, Jegulus haters… if you hate it so much, why aren’t you blocking the tags and moving tf on? How come you find all the “toxic Jegulus shippers”, and I find NONE?

Not denying that there might be some tho, just saying it’s really ODD…

Edit: Anti-jegulus ppl do be finding more and better fanart, fics and headcannons than me… how the hell are you doing it?? Teach me your waysss

[vomits0cutely]

Regulus: does she make you laugh?

James: she doesn’t make me cry.

[jjameslily]

don’t let it make you cry,

a dia de los muertos (day of the dead) inspired fic in honor of my favorite holiday and tradition of love and remembrance ♡

read on AO3 | word count: 960

The light illuminated the path ahead, casting a golden glow that shimmered and stretched like a thread between worlds. She felt its pull, drawing her forward, a silent beckoning that wrapped her in warmth. A sudden, gentle brush against her hand made her pause. Fingers intertwined with hers, familiar and steady. She glanced to her side, meeting amber speckled eyes, accompanied by a look she knew he’d given her a million times before. A soft breath caught in her chest. 

No longer just the essence of their being but whole, vibrant with the ringing of remembered life. The cable knit jumper hung on him as easily as it had that day, its warmth mirrored in the tender glint of his eyes as they settled on her. She felt his gaze trace the familiar lines of her figure, the way the soft cascade of her long red hair caught the golden light.

Of course—it was him. He was always there, their souls moving together like the steady sway of flame and shadow, bound in a dance that would never end.

He didn’t hold her back, but matched her stride, their steps silent but sure, pressed into the softness of the petals underfoot. The glowing path beneath them was alive with the hum of unspoken words and devotion carried in the orange and gold that lit their way. No pain touched them here, only the gentle press of each step—each petal whispering to them as if the universe itself was guiding them onward.

The air around them was tinged with a sweet, citrus tang that sharpened with each breath. It filled her senses, clearing away and purifying the ache that so often lingered. They moved as one, drawn along the light-strewn path, echoing the steady rhythm of a place that knew no distance, only the steady pull of home.

They walked along the path, the candlelight drawing closer until it illuminated the scene ahead. She paused, suddenly the beat of her heart faster than she had felt in so long at the sight—a figure, kneeling before them. A flickering played in the reflection of his round glasses, casting tiny flames that danced over the curves of his face, softening the shadows that clung to his boyish features.

His hand, outstretched, fingers brushing the edge of a framed photograph, hesitant yet reverent. The glass held a moment in time—her dressed in white, eyes alight with laughter, leaning into her beloved with his untamed hair framing his head like a crown, and by their side, an old friend with a mischievous grin, forever late, even now as they found their way back to this world. 

A smile tugged at her lips, met with a quiet chuckle beside her, as if he too saw and remembered at that very moment. But he’d be there soon, she assured the figure silently. 

Like them, his spirit hovered, keeping close watch over him, content to do so until his time came in some far away future. The longing to be whole was tempered only by the joy of witnessing his life unfold—happy, full—each moment a testament of their love and willing sacrifice, patiently waiting as long as forever just to see him grow old.

He sighed, rubbing a sleeved hand across his forehead. “I don’t know if I’m doing this right,” he murmured to himself. 

But this was the closest they’d felt to him in what felt like an eternity, more than just mere shades of themselves.

A gentle breeze caressed the marigolds laid out before them, lifting their petals into a delicate dance and waving the air with a sweetness that held echoes of laughter and song. The faint notes of distant music whispered through, tugging at memories long settled in the quiet corners of the past. 

Her eyes glistened, the love within her radiating from her. She let it ripple outward, weaving her spirit into the air around him, reaching beyond the veil, hoping he—Harry, their son—would feel it not as a ghost of a fleeting memory, but as a pulse.

Alive.

Real.

James reached forward to outline the curve of his cheek, to feel him, to extend himself into the warmth that flowed from the space they once called home. Though they couldn’t show themselves as before, the world held their presence in subtle ways—the quiet stir of petals, shifting as though under the brush of invisible fingers; the rich scent in the air, wrapping around him with the longing warmth of home. The candle flames pulsed gently, each flickering their heartbeat for warmth to settle deep, to comfort in place of their embrace.

Harry’s shoulders lifted, drawing in a shuddering breath. His eyes softened, a hint of recognition breaking through the sorrow that shadowed them. As Harry looked into the small collection of arranged photographs, his features became more peaceful, regarding the lively expressions from their youth. 

A single tear escaped him, catching in the light, and a quiet, wistful smile appeared on his lips as calm settled over him. 

“Welcome home,” he whispered to them.

They lingered in the glow of their bridged worlds, woven from love and memories like a protective shroud over him—their love pouring into the very air he breathed. The night was heavy and vibrant with the embrace of life, death, and everything in between. A gentle reminder that love remembered was never truly lost. 

Together, they held him, encircling his body wordlessly. Their presence continued to infuse in the candlelight and scent that surrounded him, carrying their message: they were here, always, and would remain until the day they were together once more. 

Until the divide between the living and departed was no longer.

Until the very end.

[strawberryloveyyy]

Shout to James Potter and Lily Evans! Happy Halloween 🎃 👻 💗🫶✨

[regulus-cannot-swim]

Care - Jegulus

Regulus watched numbly as James kissed Lily. He tried not to react, tried not to show how it hurt. James and Regulus had ended months ago, not that anyone even knew about thme, except for Pandora.

But it still hurt, no matter how much Regulus willed it not to. Once, James had told him that they were inevitable, that Regulus was the only one for him.

But Regulus understood now. The only inevitable thing aobut them was Regulus’ heartbreak. Regulus knew he’d never move on from James, never wanted to.

There was no point. No point in trying to find someone new when he’d only be thinking of his sun anyway. There was no point when Regulus knew he would die soon, but with a destroyed horcrux, if it all went to plan.

So he shouldn’t have cared that James had someone else now, if he would be dead within a few months anyway. But he did. He did care, anyway, because he’d always care about James, even when the other boy no longer cared about him.

It was his own damn fault anyway. It was Regulus who had uttered obliviate to the boy in his sleep. It was Regulus’ fault that James didn’t even remember him.

So why did it hurt so much?

[1doesnotsimplyhavejust1fandam]

It makes me SO angry when people do the golden trio-marauders comparisons/parallels, but they put Harry as JAMES like ??? Harry is Sirius y’all, he literally says so himself when he’s thinking about how he’ll be as wild a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius was to him. And I’m excluding Peter for obvious reasons, so the Remus-Hermione parallels should be strong bc they’re both a stickler for the rules but bend them the instant it’s convenient or helps their friend group, and they’re also the most “outcast” (prejudiced against as a werewolf/muggle-born) of each friend group. Ron is James bc he’s embarrassing when in love, loyal as hell, and would hurt anyone who hurt his people, as well as Ron being a mother hen and me subscribing to the belief that James was one too bc who ELSE was it gonna be of the marauders??? lmao

It’s also not a perfect comparison bc they all have aspects of each other in them, but I am begging everyone to stop falling into the habit that canon characters have of thinking that Harry is just a carbon copy of one or both of his parents. It’s said SO many times and it got old over a decade ago, thank you very much <3