Regulus Is A Weepy Drunk.

James Potter is very scary when he's mad, but Euphemia Potter is truly TERRIFYING.

James loves rainbows and would always yell out RAINBOW! when he saw one.

HO HO HO Candy Cane Grams! im-in-the-moon? Four for you im-in-the-moon! You go im-in-the-moon!

I'm a bit late but thank you!

Reblog if you’d be okay if your friend came out as transgender

let’s see how many transphobics we can weed out

How do i figure out what i am?

I need friends who are aromantic or asexual, cause i have a shitton of questions

I feel like Remus would either love fairy lights or absolutely hate them

How did you figure out that you were aro not ace?

I need friends who are aromantic or asexual, cause i have a shitton of questions

I need marauders friends, cause I keep talking about them to my friends, and they keep looking at me like I'm mentally unstable (I am, but why do their face subtitles have to make it so obvious)

hallucination

Sirius’s lover was the spy.

It was obvious, actually. Remus Lupin was betraying the Order, giving secrets and information to the Death Eaters, to Voldemort, allowing Muggles and Muggle-borns to die, and deserting Sirius. And Sirius was just as bad, because all he cared about was the fact that Remus didn’t care about him. He couldn’t care less if Remus was a mass-murderer, as long as Remus still loved him. But Remus didn’t and so Sirius hated himself, because he was still in love with a traitor, and all he wanted was for said traitor to love him.

It started off okay, at first. In the first few months, Remus was doing typical Order work, normal shifts and lookouts and guards. Casting spells, making wards, sorting papers. Then in the next few months, he began going on missions every full moon. Sirius immediately deduced that Remus was working with werewolf packs, even if Remus wasn’t to breathe a word about it, because who was he to not memorise the dates of every one of his lover’s transformations? So that was okay. Remus came back, wearily smiling, but still fighting.

But then things changed. A couple more full moons, and Remus looked like he’d completely given up. He wouldn’t smile anymore, he wouldn’t touch anyone, he would flinch, always watching his back, like one of the Order members would attack him, and for what? Why would his allies hurt him? Unless they weren’t his allies anymore. But Sirius had shaken that thought out of his head; something must have happened with the packs. But Remus wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t accept comfort. When his lover reached out, he would curl within himself, hide away. Sleep on the couch, never their bed.

Then he began leaving at random points in the month. No correlation to the moon. He’d go up on “missions” and disappear for days, coming back looking harder and meaner. Jaw set, fists clenched, eyes sharp. He’d still have his full moon missions, but there was no news whatsoever about werewolves aiding the Order. So what was Remus doing with them?

It got worse. It got to the point that Remus spent more time out of the apartment than in it. And then he started leaving for reasons that weren’t even missions: started going to the pub, getting hammered out of his mind, returning in the morning stumbling and swearing. He started regularly smoking and drinking, and you could never see him without a bottle or cigarette.

Right now, Sirius was alone in their flat, which might as well just be his, because once again, Remus was not in it. He wrinkled his nose at the couch, with its unwashed sheets Remus had been using for countless days, its Muggle beer stains, its cigarette ash. And then, because he was an infatuated dunderhead, he walked to the couch, picked up the blanket, and inhaled.

His stress vanished. How could it be that even when he was stressing over Remus, his scent still calmed him down? It wasn’t fair.

Then he heard the wards come down, and the unlocking of the door, before his aforementioned lover stepped forward. And Sirius could let go of the blanket and retain his dignity, but the drunken thug probably wouldn’t even notice.

He was right. Remus simply toppled into the couch, not even glancing at Sirius. Sirius threw him the middle finger, stomping off to ensure the wards were back up, and to lock the fucking door. Did Remus want the Death Eaters to come here? He probably did, being a traitor and all.

He turned, about to storm into their bedroom, now probably just his own (honestly, why didn’t Remus just break up with him already?), curl up in the sheets and cry into his two-way mirror, when he heard Remus murmur, “‘E was sniffin’ yer blanket. Stinks. Should wash it…”

Sirius froze. That was the most amount of words he’d heard from Remus in months. And it still sent his heart careening in his chest. And then Remus grumbled, “An’ ‘e flipped yer off. Bitch.”

Sirius turned around and raised a brow. “Excuse me?” He asked coldly.

Remus blinked. “Hallucinatin’. Yer nutter. So fuckin’ in love.”

Sirius stalked towards him, heart in his chest. Was this finally it? “Finish that train of thought, Moony.”

“Moony,” Remus echoed softly, closing his eyes as tears gathered in his lashes. “Yer like that, don’t yer?” he smiled twistedly. “Pathetic.” Sirius tensed.

“Fine, Remus, fucking spit it out then,” he snarled.

“‘E’s not real, mate. Go on, touch ‘im,” Remus mumbled, tears slipping down his cheeks, leaving shining streaks across his skin, which Sirius desperately wanted to wipe away, once more trailing his fingers across Remus’s rugged face, tracing the scars and imbuing them with love, pressing his thumbs into his cheeks until dimples appeared beneath them, connecting the dots between his freckles… and Remus had said ‘touch him’, hadn’t he?

Sure, Remus wasn’t making much sense, but with the tip of his forefinger, Sirius took a tear off Remus’s cheek. Remus’s eyelids snapped open and he jerked back on the couch, blinking furiously. “You’re not real,” he said, louder and more clearly.

Sirius immediately retracted his hand to his side. He raised a brow. “I’m real.”

Remus hesitantly reached out and drew some sort of wobbly pattern across Sirius’s wrist. And maybe Sirius was going slightly mad, but that was definitely the best way someone had ever touched him. Remus pulled his finger back, and inspected it curiously. He looked back up at Sirius. “Never been able to touch you before.”

Sirius was getting increasingly concerned. “Moony, love, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Remus smiled timidly. “You’re nicer than the others. Mind must like me today, huh?”

“Remus, Remus, I’m real. Your mind’s not imagining me or whatever,” Sirius vaguely gestured to Remus’s head.

And then Remus burst out into sobs. Sirius immediately dropped to his knees beside the couch, reaching out and running a hand across Remus’s back, through his hair, trying to stop the man he loved from hurting.

“Wand, wand,” Remus muttered, procuring it and casting a silencing charm around the couch. “So real you won’t hear,” he explained, jabbing a finger to the bedroom. He blinked up at Sirius happily and hopefully. “‘M drunk enough to imagine your touch. Hug me?”

So Sirius clambered into the couch beside Remus and wrapped him in his arms, pressing his lips to his hair. Apparently, Remus had hallucinations about him. And apparently, Remus cast silencing charms so Sirius wouldn’t hear him cry. Sirius squeezed Remus tighter, while he snuggled into his chest. And he should probably let Remus sleep, but maybe Remus would tell his hallucination things?

“What’s on your mind, Moons?” Sirius mumbled into his hair.

Remus looked up, fist curled into Sirius’s chest. “I miss you, you know,” he whispered, the words brushing over Sirius’s mouth.

“Yeah? Why don’t you go talk to the real me?”

Remus’s eyes widened, and he shook his head violently, burying his head back into Sirius’s chest. “Can’t. Got too much shit now. Don’t wanna hurt him. An’ he hates me now.”

Sirius frowned. There were many things wrong with what Remus had just stated. “How could you hurt him? And he doesn’t hate you.”

Remus laughed brokenly. “Does too. Can’t stand the sight of me, can ‘e?”

“He barely gets to see you,” Sirius pointed out. The real reason was that he couldn’t stand the sight of Remus not being his.

“Better that way,” Remus muttered, hand over Sirius’s chest, brows furrowed but slowly relaxing, as his breathing matched the beat of Sirius’s heart.

Sirius wanted to smile down at him, but also scream in his face. He controlled himself, softly asking, “Why?”

“Oh, y’know. The packs an’ all that. Greyback’s bein’ a bitch. Likes attackin’ us while we’re human, still. Like, mate, take a break, yer already bit me and ruined my life. I dunno how many people I’ve killed at this point. Or how many fellow werewolves, actually. My mouth always feels so dirty.”

Sirius simply gaped at him, while Remus tilted his head up and smiled absent-mindedly. “Been ages since I last hallucinated you, love. Got so much to tell you.”

“Tell me,” Sirius somehow uttered, hands tightening in Remus’s hair as he fought the urge to throw up and cry.

Remus grinned excitedly. “Your voice is so perfect.” Sirius felt his heart shatter. Remus then frowned, “I dunno where to start. Still got my full moon missions, where I run ‘round with the packs and try to stop them killing Muggles and Muggle-borns. I think sometimes I succeed, ‘cause I’m still with other animals, right? I think better. Although I’ve got so much innocent blood on my hands. Every time I suggest going to the woods, they all snarl at me. I told Dumbledore, I dunno why he keeps trying to convince them. They’re not budging. It’s ‘cause of Greyback, too. Poisoning their minds.”

Remus looked up, tears streaming down his face. “They could be so good, Sirius. You don’t understand. There’s so much waste. Wasted lives, Sirius. I can’t—” Remus began shaking.

Sirius rubbed his hands along Remus’s body repetitively, burying his nose into his hair and breathing, placing soft, feather-light kisses over his tightly fisted hands. “I’m sorry, Moony. Please don’t hurt. Please. I love you. So much,” he said reverently between kisses.

Remus simply shook even more. “You’re not real, not real, stop, stop, please,” he clutched his head, tugging at his hair.

Sirius made a decision, grabbing Remus’s hand and pulling him up from the couch. “I am real, and honestly, it’s insulting that you’re so convinced I’m not.” He tugged him towards their bedroom, kicking the door open. “Look. Sirius ain’t there. Sirius is right here, holding your hand, because I am Sirius, and I love you so much.”

He stared fiercely into Remus’s rapidly blinking eyes, daring him to call him a fucking hallucination one more time. Finally, Remus choked, “You can’t be. You, you can’t—” Remus threw himself into Sirius, yelling, “Stop, please, stop—”

“Stop what?” Sirius pulled Remus back and looked him in the eyes. “Stop your missions? Yes, I think I’m gonna do that. I’m gonna tell Dumbledore to stop your fucking missions, because they’re fucked up, and evidently pointless. And if Dumbles can’t see that, he’s evidently fucked up and pointless too.”

“No!” Remus flailed. “It’s for the greater good! The greater good, the greater good…” he muttered to himself.

“Fuck the greater good. You’re the greatest good. You’re the one that matters, you’re the one who needs to be happy, not fucking Dumbledore.”

Remus looked at him sceptically. After a long time of just staring, he spoke, “When do you think real Sirius will be back? Think we can sleep in his bed?”

Sirius genuinely wanted to rip his hair out. “Yes, you can sleep in our fucking bed, because it belongs to you and Sirius. And I’m Sirius! For the love of Merlin, please! I’m Sirius son of a bitch Black!”

Remus just stared at him. And then his face split into a small smile. “I was joking that time.”

It was Sirius’s turn to stare at him in shock. “REMUS LUPIN. YOU ARE BLOODY LUCKY I LOVE YOU.”

Microfic Compilation by MountainRuse

I can't breathe🤣🤣

It had become such a common joke between James and Sirius to give and take house points between themselves and others, that when James became Head Boy, the castle's magical ability to actually take and give points when the words are uttered became a real problem:

Twenty points went to Hufflepuff for some particularly potent weed; five points to Ravenclaw for a snide remark towards Snape; five points to Slytherin, said sarcastically for pointing out the obvious. It took a while (and some stern talking to from McG), but James had mostly gotten the habit under control.

That is until one morning, when everyone woke up to Slytherin having 500 points more than they had the previous evening, a flushed James Potter, and a particularly smug looking Regulus Black, who, on close inspection, was walking a bit funny.