shewhowritesbooks

[shewhowritesbooks]

Viktor & Jayce juxtaposition

This frame was stuck in my head for the entire week and I finally understand why. The juxtaposition between Jayce and Viktor also represents the juxtaposition between Piltover and Zaun.

Jayce is the embodiment of Piltover and Viktor of Zaun.

1. If we were to start with the literal physicality, the carnal comparison, Jayce’s body is strong, healthy, and humanly, free from adulteration while Viktor’s is altered to such an extent that it could hardly be recognized as human anymore. Viktor’s flesh is blackened and murky as though filled with dirt and toxicants, which most Zaunites’ bodies are considering the toxic air they breathe and the poverty.

2. Piltover was attacked and yet it suffered minimal losses and minor destruction whereas Zaun is still struggling under its weight even though Zaun had been the attacker. Just like who Jayce is standing whole while Viktor was the one who had almost died. No matter if Jinx’ attack had been a defiant act of rebellion, you can’t overcome decades of lack of resources, health and wealth by one single attack. The oppressors still remain the powerful ones and the oppressed suffer harder even as they seek out their right to resist.

3. Jayce is still involved (creating or using) the pure side of their science: Hextech. Whereas Viktor’s body is literally infiltrated with Hex core, the destructive, dark, corrupting side of their science that Viktor had to pursue in desperation for his survival. Piltover (Jayce) has the best of the best, even in science. Hextech, the most progressive discovery of the decade that comes with little to none consequences and helps them relish in more and more goods. But Zaun (Viktor) is stuck with the toxic counterpart of their science. Hexcore (and shimmer), a product born out of desperation. They don’t have the privilege of choice. They either inflict themselves with damning substances or die.

4. And oh Jayce’s wilful ignorance still shining through. Piltover has just been attacked and he just straight up resigns from the Council and wants to hide his lab with his partner. He has the privilege of looking away from the catastrophe. He has the privilege to look away and be locked away in his lab, tinkering with his invention just like the “good old days”. But the first thing that Viktor says after being brought back is that Jayce should’ve let him die because Viktor knows that Zaun will let up paying a heavy price for Hexcore’s existence. It’s always Zaun that pays the price for Piltover’s ambitions. The reason Viktor ended up creating Hexcore was because his body had deteriorated over time because of the toxic environment under which the Zaunites live. A limp, infected lungs. Viktor never had the privilege of looking away and he knows he doesn’t now too. Piltover can look away. Its citizens can feel safe behind the arms and weapons of their allies (Noxus) even though they should fear for their lives. Whether Zaun is the aggressor or the victim, it can never look away. It never not be subjected to Piltover’s consequence, to the oppression they suffer. Directly or indirectly they are always involved, always suffering and struggling.

[shewhowritesbooks]

Our love playing in the music recorder as Vander promises Felicia he'll protect Vi

Our love playing in the music recorder as Vander finds out Vi is going to give herself up to the enforcers. He failed to protect her

Arcane why would you hurt me like this 😭😭😭

[shewhowritesbooks]

If depressed, detached and almost died then why so sexy

[shewhowritesbooks]

This shot is breaking my heart so much. I can't stop thinking about it

All of season 1, we saw her be at war with herself. Disturbed, torn apart, agitated over the smallest interactions.

But now that she is finally at peace with herself, all that's left in her eyes is grief and tiredness.

When that storm settles, all that remains is the calm, constant grief

I just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[shewhowritesbooks]

The most realistic part about Ninth House was every time Alex Stern tried to catch up to her studies, she was dragged into all kinds of heinous shit but a debate team

[shewhowritesbooks]

It's a sad thing really,

seeking peace like it's privilege

[shewhowritesbooks]

I don't know what to do with this loneliness,

Gulp it down like a medicine

Or barf it out like my favourite meal

[shewhowritesbooks]

It's March

But my heart hasn't shed the grief of October yet

[shewhowritesbooks]

WHY IS WRITING IS SO FUCKING HARD?

Ten types of fuckery that stop you from writing the thing:

1. Imposter syndrome

You think you're not good enough or everyone else is better than you and you're just winging it AKA ye olde imposter syndrome bullshit. Yeah nah you're fine. No really, you're exactly where you need to be right now, and you'll keep getting better and better so long as you don't stop. Chances are, if you're filled with doubt about your abilities it means you've actually improved to the point where you can really start to understand what makes good writing. It means you know where you wanna end up and goshdarn it you're gonna get there.

Read this: 4 tips to kick imposter syndrome in the face and also genitals

And also this: How to silence the inner critic

2. Fear of rejection and/or failure

Yeah, us too. It fuckin sucks. BUT. Not all rejections are equal. And rejection is a necessary part of the process. Sometimes it takes a rejection to realise that a story isn't ready. Sometimes a rejection is entirely subjective and has ZERO reflection on the quality of your work. But shying away from the very idea of possibly maybe hypothetically getting rejected is only going to hold you back from even trying. And knowing why you got rejected and how to learn from it is one of the most valuable writing skills.

Read this: The different types of rejection (and how to deal with 'em)

Then read this: How to cope with rejection

And also this: Writing lessons from Groundhog Day

3. Not enough planning / too much planning

Leaping into a new story with nothing but a glimmer of an idea is exciting as heck (and can sometimes be a great way to begin) but at some point you're gonna need some sort of outline or plan to keep you on track. HOWEVER. Planning your story to within an inch of its life can also sometimes be a hindrance - leaving you stuck in the hypothetical stage of the process where your story doesn't quite exist yet (and therefore avoiding the prospect of it sucking). The sweet spot is in the middle. Having just enough of a plan to know where tf you're going, but enough freedom and flexibility to let the story lead the way...

Read this: Planning vs pantsing

Then read this: Five plotting techniques

And also this: The perils of overplanning

4. Your WIP just isn't working

Sometimes things just fall flat. Sometimes you work on the same story for yeeeeears and then it just kinda... dies. Sometimes you have the best plans (see above) and the best intentions and things still don't work out. Sometimes it's just time to move on. And sometimes it's not! Sometimes a story can be revived, fixed or changed. Sometimes you just need time. Sometimes YOU'RE the one that's changed and this isn't the story you need to be writing right now. Many variables. Muchly personal. Read the things below for more advice cos this is a big question:

Read this: What to do when your WIP isn't working

And also this: Give it space - how to grow a story in your head

Or how about this? Editing 101

5. You keep deprioritising it

Ah the irony of writing being the thing you love/want to do most of all AND YET the thing you procrastinate over and avoid and shove to the very bottom of your to-do list all the freakin' time. Maybe it's the comodification of art destroying our freedom to create without pressure. Maybe it's late capitalism sucking up all our available time and energy. Maybe it's a lack of self-belief subconsciously telling us our 'little hobby' doesn't really matter. Maybe it's maybelline. Whatever it is, you have the power to reclaim and revalue your writing. To say, "I'm a fucking writer, goddamnit!" and mean it. To ringfence your creative time so nothing and nobody gets to interrupt it. To do that thing you love.

Read this: Prioritise your writing

Read this: How to write in 30 second bursts

6. Shiny Thing Syndrome

You know that feeling when you're just getting stuck into a writing project and then — SQUIRREL! — you get distracted by another, better, more shiny writing project? Or maybe you're deep in the editing phase and your current WIP just isn't feeling very shiny at all and pretty much ANYTHING seems more exciting? Or you simply can't decide which of the many squirrelly writing ideas to actually start? You, fine writerperson, may be suffering from Shiny Thing Syndrome (STS). But fear not! There are a few ways to combat it, depending on the cause, and most of them involve embracing the squirrel-brain and injecting a bit of fun into your writing, like so:

Read this: Shiny thing syndrome - a writer's malady

Aaaand read this: Get excited about your writing again

And also this: Write like a kid

7. Perfectionism/self-sabotage

Look. Writing is scary as shit. What if someone READS it? What if they don't like it? What if they see into your soul and gain a deeper understanding of you through your words? Writing your truth, being vulnerable, smearing your heart juice all over the page? No thank you. But also, that's where the good shit is, so actually yes please. Just make sure you smear responsibly. And rest assured, even the most 'successful' and experienced writers ALSO feel like this sometimes, so you're in good company. It's just part of the art, bruh.

Read this: Why writing is scary (and why that's a good thing)

Read this: Beginning a story - what stops us starting?

And also this: Get out of your own way

8. The dreaded blank page

Oh godddd the blank page. It should be an exciting palimseset of possibility but is somehow also the most terrifying thing known to humankind. You wanna write something but where to start? HOW to start? You type that first line and immediately delete it. You watch the cursor blinking at you—taunting you—until you just give up and shut your laptop again. It's probably tied up with a bunch of things we've already covered so far: perfectionism, imposter syndrome, fear of failure, maybe a lack of planning or faith in your story or whatever. But it doesn't have to be this way. A blank page IS exciting and full of possibility. We just have to get over ourselves and learn to embrace the unknown...

Read this: Don't fear the blank page

And also this: The moaning method

9. Not enough time/energy/motivation/gnuuuughh

Dude, same x 1000. But you don't have to get up at 5am, do hot yoga, drink a kale smoothie and write a thousand words before sunrise to be a Proper Writer. You don't even have to write every day. But what you can do is hack your writing brain and figure out when, where, how, and why you write most effectively. Then tweak your schedule, your habits, and your attitude to ensure you're making the most of your time. Productivity is a big ol' lie but finding the secret to getting in your own personal writing zone is actual MAGIC.

Read this: Maximise your writing time

And also this: Get in the writing zone

And also unto this: The Writers' HQ Guide to Productivity

10. You're just fucken stuck

Got the writing morbs? In need of some literary sudafed? Stuck as a pig in a poke? Writing is a whole puzzle of a process—and to be honest that's what makes it so fun and exciting and addictive, because your writing brain is hardwired to both create AND solve the wordy puzzles within your story. Sometimes the answer is time. Sometimes it's a second opinion or a fresh eye. Sometimes a totally different approach or just a hefty kick up the bum. But whatever the problem, there IS a solution. You just gotta keep going and trust that you'll find it...

Read this: Troubleshoot your writing - why are you stuck?

And also this: Break through the writing blockage

And also also this: Write yourself into a pit (and then dig your way out again)

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Alright, that's it for today. Now go write, you flithy animals.

(And if we missed anything, stick a question in our ask box or check out the rest of our shit here)

[shewhowritesbooks]

The Ultimate Creative Writing Resource List

After writing for quite nearly my entire literate life ~and~ getting a creative writing degree, I've put together a comprehensive list of the sites and blogs that I've found most useful! Check it out, we've got—

An Insanely Detailed Character Creation Sheet: use this page to learn everything you've ever wanted to know about your character and more. It never fails to make me consider something about them I wouldn't have thought of otherwise.

A Character Avatar Creator: if you know what your character looks like and want a visual of them for notes/cork boards/Google Docs, this site will let you personalize them almost as much as a Sims game.

Pinterest: if you don't know what your character looks like and need inspiration, search for pictures of people who inspire you. Definitely have done this more often than not because I can never seem to pin down (pun intended) my character's exact appearance. Really helps with things you might forget while writing, like the shape of their eyebrows, how their hair lays or even how they stand.

A Map Creation Website: it's meant for fantasy worlds but I've used it for my historical fiction novels! Super customizable even without paying for it. It also saves your work in the free version, which has saved me when I forgot to upload copies to where I keep all my story stuff.

Grammar Girl: have any questions about where to put that semicolon or when to use italics? Grammar Girl is literally used by English teachers because it's that accurate. Check your work or put as many commas in that manuscript as your heart tells you to anyway. I've done both!

Grammarly: this is another way to check your grammar, especially if you use the Chrome extension. It automatically checks your basic grammar, spelling, and readability while you type in Google Docs or another browser-based text document. Note that it isn't foolproof and sometimes will suggest things that don't make sense. Use your best judgement when it highlights things!

Word Hippo: do you feel like you've used one word too often in your story? I use Word Hippo daily for both my creative and professional writing to avoid repetition. When I can't think of a synonym or antonym on my own, it has a billion suggestions for adjectives, verbs, nouns, etc. It can even help you find words that rhyme! Make your character a poet. Nothing can stop you.

Text-to-Speech Reader: it's always easier to catch minor line errors when you read something out loud, but if you don't feel like doing that, this site will read your story for you. There are multiple voices to choose from, so have fun listening to your hard-won stories while you edit.

Background Noise—Coffee Shop: I always lose myself in stories when I have this video playing in the background. It's like I'm in a coffee shop or cozy restaurant booth, but without spending money.

Background Noise—Tavern Fireplace: same vibes as a coffee shop, but with fireplace crackling.

Background Noise—Rain Shower: listen to rain patter against your window with some thunder in the background.

Background Noise—Cozy Fireplace and Rain Shower: combine your favorite sounds in this extra long video of a wood-burning fireplace and a distance rain shower. Perfect for anyone who doesn't want to hear extra loud thunder.

Background Noise—Forest Sounds: is your story taking place outdoors? These sounds will make you feel like you're in the woods with your characters.

Background Noise—Blizzard Sounds: constant blizzard winds may easily make you feel removed from the world so you can focus on your work.

Background Noise—Interior Plane Cabin White Noise: the pleasant hum of a plane cabin is what I often write to. There are no loud take-off, landing, or passenger sounds either.

Background Noise—Christmas Music From Another Room: I found this video when quarantining for Christmas with my husband in 2020. It ended up being one of my favorite writing background videos of that year. It features lyric-less songs on vinyl, plus muffled talking, which was a definite perk for the year+ we spent inside.

Background Noise—Lo-Fi: when I'm not sure what I want to write to, I use this playlist. It has the perfect low-key beats for writing less-intense scenes or working on plot, characters, mapping, etc.

Tumblrs With Fantastic Writing Tips: I have a few favorite tumblrs I loooooove and have followed on various blogs for many years. They regularly answer submitted questions and have organized tags, so if you're wondering about something, you'll likely find an answer by searching their blogs! Check out @fixyourwritinghabits @heywriters @wordsnstuff for expert-level help, guidance, and inspiration.

Tumblrs With Writing Prompts: while there are many prompt websites and blogs, my favorite prompt tumblrs are @daily-prompts and @creativepromptsforwriting for their variety and creativity!

Other resources...

Goodreads: consistently reading is part of exercising that creative muscle in your brain. Goodreads will help you keep track of everything you've read, are reading, and want to read. Find your next inspiration and the latest updates on what's coming out soon from your favorite authors.

Poets & Writers Contests: this site is always posting the latest creative writing contests for all genres. It also has free submissions, so don't worry if you can't afford entry fees for now.

The Writer: you'll also find great contests (both free and paid) at The Writer. Explore their site to discover other great resources too, like writing getaways and publishing tips.

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Enjoy and I hope this helps! Feel free to reblog and add other resources that you use for your writing. I'd love to find more!

[shewhowritesbooks]

“Here’s a question for your soul; How many times can a broken thing break? And the Gods whispered: Let’s see, shall we?” - Nikita Gill

[shewhowritesbooks]

Me: knows my character's fav song, fav bracelet, fav shoes, fav part of the fav shoes, the one crayon they can't stand looking at

Also me: *doesn't know what they'll do next to furthure the plot*

[shewhowritesbooks]

Live in the now

Remus was in a foul mood.

No it didn't have anything to do with the full moon.

Unfortunately, he couldn't always blame all of his shortcomings on the beast.

He poked at his breakfast eggs with frustration, and couldn't wait for the day to be over even though it had just begun.

Around him, James, Sirius and Peter laughed and continued their buffoonery. Remus wanted to join them but man he was really not feeling like himself today.

And for what? The reason was so utterly stupid that Remus would rather drown himself in the Great Lake before admitting it to anyone.

The bell rang overhead and they scuttled out of the Great Hall for their first lesson.

It was just a dream, Remus told himself, just a dream. Pull yourself together.

But it felt so real.

In part, it had been real. Once. Before he'd come to Hogwarts and found friends.

The dream he had had this morning was that Remus was left alone. Abandoned for the second time in his life.

It was only a dream but its effect lingered on him even after he had woken up. Some dreams did that to him, cheerful or daunting. It was as though he was drenched in some of them and then leaked the feelings soaked in him throughout the day.

'But Moony wouldn't like that.' James' voice pulled him out of his brooding.

'What?' Remus started. They were climbing the staircase now.

'I was saying that Moony wouldn't like to pull that prank because it would end up making him laugh. I figured that's something you're avoiding like the plague today.'

Remus gave him a flat look. 'It's nothing like that.'

'I have some evidence that would say otherwise,' said Sirius.

'And that would be?'

'Your face.'

Remus grunted.

'Go ahead,' said Sirius, 'you're only proving my point.'

Remus didn't reply and as though to drive James and Sirius' point home, he kept sulking all the way to their charms class.

Once there, he picked out his textbooks, quills and concentrated on the lecture. And things started to get better for a while. While he was learning, he was distracted. While he was learning, he didn't have time to ponder on his own thoughts. He was glad. As much as he liked his consciousness, it could be a real kicking pain in the gut at times.

If Remus was being honest with himself, the problem wasn't the dream, it was what the dream projected. Sure, everyone worried about these things right? Being left behind, having no one to care for, or be cared about by nobody, being stuck while everyone else kept moving forward with their lives.....

Everyone worried about these things. They made up the most common insecurities but it affected Remus worse than others. For one: Remus had already lived through that phase. He thought he'd accepted those unsettling possibilities. But here he was, wondering how long it would take before James, Sirius and Peter understood Remus was more trouble than it was worth.

Remus shook his head. He was treading in dangerous territory. He had to stop this line of thinking then and there or it would spiral into a disastrous episode.

So, Remus decided he just needed some time to let these feelings leak away from him. After the bell rang, he excused himself and went to the library. Reading would set his mind straight. And while he was alone, he wouldn't act like a prick around his friends.

So Remus pulled out a novel, picked a sunbathed spot near the window and submerged himself in the book.

He kept reading and reading until he didn't know where his life ended and that of the characters in the book began. Hours that went by without him thinking about a depressing imaginary of himself alone in some shabby apartment with wounded muscles and ripped clothes.

And then Remus halted. His eyes stuck at a single sentence written in the book.

“'Live in the now, Barbary,' said Third Sorcerer Great, 'chasing future has only left unadventurous past.'”

The evening breeze below past him, brushing his hair and cooling his cheeks.

Live in the now.

Remus was doing that, wasn't he?

'Yeah, if living meant hiding away in a corner,' a small voice inside his head said.

But he had to. Or else he would ruin the upbeat moods of others too. He had to sort out his.....worries for the future.

Remus closed his eyes, a hand on his forehead.

What was he doing?

Acting out because of a stupid dream that may or not may happen?

He sank a little lower in the chair as the absurdity of it all crashed over him.

Remus was smart, but Merlin's bread he acted like a crackhead. Of course he was allowed to feel how he wanted to, but maybe, just maybe, he didn't have to let the negative connotations rule his mood.

He got up, shutting the book and holding it under his arm.

'Alright, The Third Sorcerer Great,' Remus whispered, as he walked toward the dormitory where his friends would be shooting off wisecracks. 'I'll live in the now.'

[shewhowritesbooks]

Lily: murder is okay if you kill bad people

Remus: murder is okay if I sympathize with the reasons

James: murder is okay if everybody is having fun

Sirius: murder is okay....

[shewhowritesbooks]

31st October, 2007

Harry exhaled standing in front of James and Lily's grave in Godrics Hallows. He could hear children laughing, giggling and running, asking for trick or treat somewhere behind him. Harry couldn't hear them too clearly, the voices were quite damped this deep into the graveyard.

And Harry stared at his parents' grave. After the battle of Hogwarts, he'd visited their grave every year on 31st oct. The day that was just a normal date to some, a festival to some, and the day of ruination of his family to Harry. This was the eighth year he'd come to see them. He was twenty five years old. One would've thought living twenty five years without his parents would've taught him how to cope with their absence, but his tears fell all the same.

What is it these muggle say? Time heals all? What a load of rubbish, Harry thought standing in the empty graveyard. Time couldn't heal, it couldn't even dull the ache in the slightest. Years after years had gone by and the hollowed void in his stomach refused to leave, the pangs in his heart hadn't reduced one bit.

Harry began to feel light headed. He was beginning to regret his decision of coming alone.

What the hell was I thinking, he thought as he bent doubled on his knees. Ginny is the one who keeps me standing. Why did I tell her to stay back?

Realising his knees couldn't support him anymore, he lowered himself and sat on the cold grass. His back resting on the headstone of a person he didn't know. His parents' names were at his eye level now. For some reason, this gave him a different effect. Harry tilted his head, wondering why on earth did it feel so different to look at their names so closely.

He let out a soft chuckle.

'I know, I know,' he said to their grave, 'You might be thinking I'm doing such a stupid thing. Coming here alone. Well..... I thought after being twenty five years old I'd be able to deal with this a bit more maturely.'

If someone was watching Harry, they would think he'd gone mad but surprisingly, Harry didn't feel like he was going mad. In fact, the pain in his chest was lessening. Something about looking at their names like this made him feel like they were nearer to him. It was easier for him to picture them sitting around him, appearing in mists like they had done in the Forbidden forest.

'I'm going to get an earful from Ginny,' he said to no one. 'Not because I've got mud on my trousers. She's pretty cool that way.'

Besides himself, Harry smiled. 'This actually feels pretty good. I didn't know....know that...well...I didn't know...I could talk to you guys like this. I've been meaning to ask Ginny to move in with me. I know, we've taken things slow, but well you know....there was the war and then we needed time. Well, you guys know.'

Something told him that they did know it. They knew everything, they felt everything.

'I miss you a lot,' Harry whispered. And something very comforting told him they knew that too. They knew how much his heart ached for them, how much he wished they could be with him right now in person,not just in memory.

Harry let the last of his tears run dry in the cold night breeze. He sat there, talking more and more, letting them know all the mundane things, and for the most insane reasons, it lightened the weight on his chest so much.

'Alright,' Harry breathed, finally standing up. 'I'll let you know how it goes with Ginny. I really hope she says yes, and that I'm not moving too fast. Either, I'll let you know.'

Harry pressed a kiss to his fingers and then pressed his fingers to their white tombstone.

'See you soon.'

[shewhowritesbooks]

'Lily, try to understand,' James said. His head was throbbing as though a hammer was pounding against his head.

'No, James, you're not understanding,' Lily retorted. 'In fact, nobody seems to understand these days.'

James looked at her with tired eyes, and saw fury in hers, every feature depicting just how furious she was. And the worst part was James thought she was being unreasonable to be this furious. They had been arguing for hours, and yet hadn't reached a point of conscience. And rain continued to pour endlessly outside their cottage.

'You can't come on missions with us, Lily,' said James, his voice muffled as he dropped his head in his hands. 'Even the slightest hex can be too fatal for the baby.'

'Don't start with this,' Lily shouted, 'I've been telling you for an hour, I don't need to join in the fights! I can help you just fine in hideouts and lookouts. I will be far away--'

'-No, it's still dangerous-'

'--I consulted the healers. They said I won't be exerting myself--'

'-No, just no. Lily, understand this! Please!-'

'--why are you being so adamant, I won't be in harm's--'

'GODDANN IT! LILY, I WON'T BE ABLE TO PROTECT YOU IF ANYTHING GOES SOUTH!'

They fell silent like a raging storm coming to an abrupt end. The only sound being their deep breathing and the thunderous pattering of raindrops.

'It's killing me that I can't protect you and our child,' murmured James, 'But I can't be arrogant about this. I have to accept my failings. I can't promise you that it'll be alright.'

Something twisted inside him. He'd known this for a while, but somehow saying the thoughts out loud left a sickening, disgusting hole in him.

Truth not thoughts, he corrected himself.

'James, don't say that,' Lily whispered, her voice breaking. 'I know you'll do everything-'

'-I am doing everything and one of those things is making sure you're as far from those death eaters as you can be.'

'Stop treating me differently,' Lily exasperated.

'How is me caring for you, treating you differently?'

'You knew damn well all along that you can't promise anything, but that never made you stop me.'

'But this is--'

'Different?' She almost shrieked, her eyebrows raised threateningly. 'All of you. You, Sirius, Moony, all of you are treating me like I can't take care of myself. I'm pregnant, not incapable.'

'For the hundredth time,' said James, voice raising, 'We are concerned for you!'

'And I'm not concerned for you?!' She yelled higher. 'Can't you understand I can't stay back knowing I'll lose all of you at any moment! I want to stay near! I want to make sure I can do something for you if need be!'

All James could do was blink. He felt what she was feeling. Helpless against this war, helpless against her fears. But then, shouldn't that make her realise why James wanted her to stay back so desperately. Couldn't she see how helpless he felt? How could she not see his point? Then suddenly, he became uncertain of his conviction. Was Lily right? Was he being unreasonable in asking her to stay safe?

James moved closer, gently taking her in his arms. She protested at first, then she caved in, dropping her head on his shoulders. She was so tired too.

'You are doing something for us, love,' James whispered, 'You're keeping our baby safe.'

'And I don't want him to grow up and not be around his dad.'

Her voice broke him. She said those words as though she half believed it would happen indefinitely, despite their struggles and their fights.

James wanted to say, 'No, he won't' but he wasn't lying when he had told Lily he would never make false promises. So he did the only thing he could, he pulled her closer.

'I can't stay back while you're out there,' she murmured.

James' hands rested on her stomach absent mindedly. What could he say? What could he do? Hours and hours of arguing and it paved no end to his turmoil. The stakes were higher, the choices were tougher.

'Lily I--'

'I got it!' Lily exclaimed, startling him. There was hope in her eyes. 'I'll stay back at the Order Headquarters. You can't have me on the lookout, I can't stay out of the loop, so I'll help at the Headquarters. I'll make mission outlines, manage resources.'

'Er....I don't know.'

'Don't take this away.'

His tongue was tied and mind in a stupor. It was a reasonable option, he couldn't find any excuse to counter it. True, it was safer to have her in presence of other Order members, but he just...he couldn't....

'Okay, alright,' he sighed. Lily smiled brightly.

James dropped her at the Headquarters before leaving for his mission. Was it his imagination or was the headquarters looking more ominous than usual.

'I'll be alright, James,' said Lily. 'You better stay on your toes.'

James nodded. Kissing her, he bid his goodbyes. He turned for the last time and saw that Lily had already occupied herself with charts and parchments.

Though she looked relieved, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was making a mistake.

[shewhowritesbooks]

'Can someone become perfectly invisible if they eat the invisibility cloak?'

'What's that now ?' Remus raised his head to look at a religiously curious Sirius.

Sirius leaned over the sunlit library table. 'Can they ?'

'Why would you want to eat the cloak when you can just wear it ?' said Remus, wondering why on earth is he explaining this.

'Because if you eat the cloak you can be invisible all the time,' Sirius said, excitedly.

'I wish I were invisible right now,' Remus murmured, turning to his book.

Sirius was unaffected by the blatant sarcasm. He pushed his black hair out of his eyes and got to his feet. 'I'll try to see if it can work.'

Remus exasperated. 'Sirius, how can you eat a cloth?'

Sirius paused, and then clapped his hands. 'What if I eat it in my animagus form?'

'This is a sentence I never imagined I'd say; you can't eat an invisibility cloak as a dog and turn invisible for the rest of your life.'

'It would've been fun though,' Sirius scowled, slouching back into the chair.

'You do know there are spells that can make you invisible,'

'Yeah but it's not the same,'

'HOW THE HELL--- you know what no! I'm not going to use my last brain cell on this conversation.'

Sirius looked out of the window somberly. 'Don't you ever wish you were invisible.'

Remus remembered all the looks he had suffered, how people pointed at his scars, asked him questions, murmured and whispered behind his back. He remembered how he had wished for nothing more than to drown in the deepest ocean and never resurface.

'Yes, I do,' said Remus.

Sirius turned and flushed as the realisation hit him. 'I'm sorry I forgot--'

'That I'm inflicted with scars by the very monster that twists my bones every month? Yeah that's understandable.'

'In my defense, your collection of the cosiest sweaters and endless stack of chocolate make it really easy to forget,' Sirius grinned softly, causing Remus to laugh.

'Besides,' Sirius continued. 'I don't see your scars when I look at you, Moony.'

Sirius' words were a warm hug. There were a cup of hot chocolate in a blizzard. Remus had agreed that if he kept thanking James, Sirius and Peter every time they made him feel loved, he'd have to keep thanking them all the time.

So, Remus said instead, 'Why the sudden obsession with invisibility ?'

Sirius paused. 'They're keeping another House of Black party this Christmas.'

'Oh,' suddenly Remus felt guilty for not understanding this before. Of course, Sirius would want to disappear from their view. But it still didn't explain....

'Why do you, Sirius Black, who wants all eyes on him while he defies his family, want to be invisible?' Remus asked. 'Isn't being the spotlight of unexpected chaos your thing?'

Sirius chortled. 'Yes, it is but it's just...'

His smile faded away just as quickly as it came.

'I don't know, Moony,' he sighed. 'Sometimes I just wish I don't have to receive their disdainful stares. It would be better if I were... just....you know.'

Remus' heart twisted. In moments like this, he could relate to Sirius completely. He could truly understand what it felt like to wish for inexistence. And that's why it hurt Remus more because there was hardly anything he could do to help Sirius. He couldn't invite Sirius over for Christmas at his place. His house was too small. He didn't have any money to help him get a hotel room somewhere.

'Maybe....' said Remus. 'I can break your legs during a full moon so you'll have to stay back at Hogwarts for the holidays.'

'I'd be honoured, Remus John Lupin,'

'No but really, you don't have to be invisible just because they can't see your worth,'

Sirius smiled and this time, it didn't fade away. And Remus felt happy. At least, he managed to comfort Sirius in some way.

'You know what,' Sirius said excitedly. 'I should've asked Prongs to help me with that idea.'

Remus blinked.

'Actually, I should go ask him right now.' With that, Sirius got to his feet enthusiastically and turned to leave.

'Wait wait wait,' said Remus. Sirius paused. 'Please tell me what I should write on your tombstones?'

'Take the chance. Eat that cloak,' Sirius winked and left.