#c: sirius black

[doeinthemeadowess]

Quem: @padfoock

Local: Durante o show do Coldphoenix

Quando: Witchella, Dia 3

A grifana estava longe de ser uma pessoa extremamente ciumenta, ainda mais em relação as suas amizades ou a vida amorosa de seus amigos, mas não pode deixar de fazer caras e bocas enquanto assistia Hannah Dawlish, do sétimo ano da HufflePuff, flertando descaradamente com Sirius Black. Dorcas estava fazendo para ignorar as investidas de Hannah, que praticamente estava se jogando aos pés de Sirius, ela apenas queria curtir o show do Coldphoenix e aproveitar a companhia do bruxo. “Hannah, darling, o que acha de pegar um doce especial que Greta Catchlove fez? Aposto que o Six adoraria isso”, Meadowes falou ao se intrometer entre os dois, pois se esperasse mais alguns minutos era capaz da lufana agarrar Sirius. “Fiquei sabendo que a Greta criou um cardápio secreto e exclusivo, mas essa é uma informação confidencial e poucas pessoas estão sabendo disso. Então só saia de lá depois que a Catchlove te entregar duas fatias do bolo de unicórnio com calda de morango e sabor blueberry. E não aceite um ‘não’ como resposta, ok? Afinal de contas, você não vai querer decepcionar Sirius Black”, Doe não sabia exatamente qual era o cardápio específico de doces que Greta tinha preparado para o evento, mas esperava conseguir Hannah Dawlish ocupada demais e bem longe dali com suas instruções específicas. Assim que a lufana se afastou, Meadowes virou para o amigo: “She’s gone too far this time”.

[thund3randrain]

"So you were talking about that gay ship you like..."

BITCH WHICH ONE

[moonyfr]

I want to make an appreciation post to that one friend who let's me yap about the marauders constantly without understanding half of what I'm saying. He doesn't have tumblr so I can't tag him, but I do really appreciate him. Thank you, C, for letting me yap about my dead gay wizards to you. <3

[spncvr]

girls when they remember The Prank was cannon and sirius rlly did that to remus

[impishtubist]

happy birthday, reese <3

For @r33sespieces :) 

---

“Shh, no, you have to be quiet.” 

Sirius pauses outside Harry’s room, cocking his head. Harry’s been holed up in there since shortly after dinner, but Sirius hadn’t thought too much of it. It’s been pissing down all afternoon, and Sirius figured both of them could use a lazy day. For his part, he took a luxurious nap earlier, and the newest book in a romance series he’s been following arrived by owl post this morning. He’s looking forward to curling up with it in front of the fire. If he’s lucky, maybe Harry will come downstairs with his chess set later and ask to play a game together.

There’s a whine from behind the closed door, and then a soft yip. Sirius blinks.

“Hazza,” he says, rapping his knuckles softly on the door, and he hears Harry curse. “Everything alright?”

“Fine!” Harry says quickly. “I’m just--”

He’s interrupted by a loud bark, and Sirius’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline.

“Can I come in?” he asks, and he hears Harry sigh.

“Yeah.” 

Harry’s standing over by the bed, dripping wet and clutching a soaked brown-and-white puppy against his chest. 

“Well, hello,” Sirius says as he steps into the room. “Who’s this?”

“Dunno,” Harry says, cuddling the puppy close and shrinking away when Sirius takes a step forward. Sirius freezes. “Found him out in the garden.” 

“Poor thing,” Sirius says. It’s been miserable outside for two days now. “Can I take a look at him?”

“Why?” Harry asks, instantly suspicious. 

“I just want to make sure he’s okay, that he doesn’t have any injuries or anything like that.” Sirius starts to pull out his wand, but Harry backs away, so he quickly pockets it. “Can we sit down?”

They sit on the circular rug in the middle of Harry’s bedroom, and Harry gently places the puppy in front of him. The puppy shivers, and then takes a few uncertain steps. He’s wobbly, but that seems to be due to how young he is, not any injuries. Sirius puts out his hand, and the puppy sniffs him. His tail wags.

“Aren’t you mad?” Harry asks softly, not meeting Sirius’s eyes.

“I’m not thrilled you snuck a puppy in here without talking to me first,” Sirius says. “But no, Harry, I’m not mad. If you’d told me you’d found him in the garden, I would’ve had you bring him inside, too. We can keep him warm and dry for a night, and then tomorrow we’ll take him to a shelter. Speaking of, can I dry him off? He’s shivering. You as well, kiddo.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Harry nods, and Sirius pulls out his wand. He performs a quick drying spell, and then a cleaning charm, and then casts a heating spell over both Harry and the puppy.

“I bet he’s hungry,” Sirius says. “Why don’t you bring him down to the kitchen, and we can feed him?”

Harry hesitates again, then gathers the puppy in his arms and goes down to the kitchen, Sirius following them. He doesn’t know what exactly is causing Harry’s reluctance, but he has a suspicion. 

He cuts up some leftover chicken for Harry to feed the puppy, and then goes into Remus’s office to gather up the rope toys Moony likes to use, as well as the crate he sometimes curls up in to nap off the Wolfsbane during full moons. Harry eyes the crate warily when Sirius comes back into the kitchen.

“So he’ll have somewhere warm and safe to sleep tonight,” Sirius says. “I doubt he’s house-trained, and sorry mate, but I don’t fancy him pissing all over the house all night.” 

Harry reluctantly nods. “Yeah, okay.” 

The puppy eats and drinks his fill, and then Harry entices him to play with one of the rope toys. Sirius can’t help the smile that touches his lips as he watches them, the puppy having the time of his life and Harry giggling--giggling!--while they play.

The puppy eventually tires himself out and falls asleep curled up in Harry’s lap. 

“There was a dog in the Dursleys’ garden once.” Harry’s not looking at him. He strokes one of the puppy’s ears with a gentle finger. “She was a stray. I brought her scraps from the table whenever Aunt Petunia sent me outside to do chores.” 

Scraps that Harry had probably needed for himself, but he’d split them with a stray instead. His heart ached. “That was really kind of you, Hazza.”

“She was my first friend,” Harry says softly. “My only friend. She lived in the garden for most of the summer, until Dudley found out about her.” 

“Oh, Harry.”

“He and his friends chased her off. Hit her with sticks and threw rocks at her. I never saw her again.” 

“She probably found a home,” Sirius says. “She sounds friendly. I’m sure someone took her in.”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “I hope so.” 

Sirius hears the Floo roar, and then Remus calls out a hello.

“In here, Remus,” he says.

Remus comes into the kitchen, and his eyes widen. “Well, you two were certainly busy today.” 

“Harry found him in the garden,” Sirius says. “The weather’s shite. I don’t see a problem with letting him stay tonight, and then we’ll take him to a shelter tomorrow.”

“Sure, of course we will,” Remus says, sounding amused. 

The puppy wakes himself up with a yawn, and then eyes Remus curiously. He gets out of Harry’s lap and trots over to the other man, sniffing him curiously. Remus holds very still--animals tend to have very strong reactions to him. Either they adore him, or they’re terrified of him. 

The puppy is apparently in the former category, because his tail starts to wag and he lets out a series of happy yips. Remus crouches down to pet him. 

“You’re a handsome fellow, aren’t you,” he says. “Yes, you are. And much better behaved than Padfoot.”

“You hear how he talks to me, Harry?” 

Harry laughs, and Sirius wishes he could bottle the sound. It doesn’t happen enough.

Harry and the puppy are inseparable for the rest of the evening. Remus keeps throwing Sirius significant looks that he tries to ignore. They’re not getting a pet. Hedwig is enough. In the morning, they’ll take the puppy to the nearest shelter, and Sirius will personally make sure he goes to a good home. 

When it comes time for bed, Harry lines the crate with plenty of blankets and sets the puppy inside. He closes the door and locks it, and the puppy immediately begins to whimper.

Harry chews on his bottom lip. “You’re sure he’s going to be alright in there?” 

The puppy whines, and Harry looks distraught. Remus squeezes his shoulder.

“He’ll be fine. He’s got toys and water and soft blankets. He’ll probably make a mess, but that’s alright. That’s what magic is for. He’ll settle down as soon as we all leave him be.” 

***

The puppy cries for an hour after they all retire upstairs. 

Sirius stares at the ceiling. He’s not going to give in and check on the puppy. He’s not. 

“Don’t even think it, Sirius,” Remus murmurs from his side of the bed.

“I’m not,” Sirius says. “It’s just--do you think he’s cold?”

“We gave him blankets and cast a heating charm.” 

“Maybe he’s hurt.”

“You checked him over before bed. He’s perfectly fine.” Remus rolls over and rests his head on Sirius’s chest. “He’ll settle down eventually.”

Remus is right--the puppy does eventually quiet down. Remus’s breathing evens out soon after that, and Sirius quickly follows him into sleep.

Sirius wakes up before dawn, his new normal, and pads downstairs to make some tea. Harry will sleep for at least another couple of hours, and they won’t see Remus until almost noon. 

But when he comes into the kitchen, the first thing he notices is his godson curled up on the floor. The crate is open, and the puppy is nestled in Harry’s arms, also fast asleep. 

“Sirius?” Remus comes up behind him, knuckling his eyes. 

“What are you doing up?” Sirius whispers.

“Needed a piss, and the bed’s cold without you. What--” Remus finally catches sight of Harry and the puppy, and immediately softens. “Oh.” 

“That’s why the puppy stopped whining last night, I bet.” 

“Probably,” Remus says. He wraps his arms around Sirius’s waist and props his chin on Sirius’s shoulder, though he has to stretch to reach it. “You can’t make him go to a shelter.”

“No,” Sirius sighs. “I won’t. Looks like we’ve got a pet, Moons.” 

“Looks like it. Where are you going?”

“I’ve got to write to the Board of Governors,” Sirius says. “I have six weeks to persuade them to add dogs to the list of approved pets for Hogwarts students.”

[dancetheblues333]

rip lily evans you would've loved platform ugg boots!!

[adharastarlight]

So, I have proof that the universe (or at least magnum) ships jegulus:

[messervixen]

Happy birthday to James Potter. You would have loved cheesy extravagant promposals <3

[elen-benfelen]

welsh remus guide pt.2

Second Lesson

Wales vs Cymru

Wales is the English term for the country, deriving from an old Germanic term with a meaning along the lines of “foreigner” or “other”. Cymru is the Welsh term for the country, meaning something along the lines of “countrymen”.

Not to be confused with Cymry which is pronounced exactly the same but means “welsh people”.

To put in a phrase - The Cymry live in Cymru. Welsh - Cymraeg

The Welsh Language - Yr Iaith Gymraeg

Welsh Man/Person - Cymro

Welsh Woman - Cymraes

Cymro is technically masculine but can serve as a gender neutral term if you don’t want to use the plural Cymry. Welsh, like Spanish and many others, is quite gendered.

A Welsh speaking Welsh person might refer to themselves, especially if they’re first language, as a “Cymry Cymraeg” which sounds silly in English as “Welsh Welsh” lmao. If my Mam were to tell me “Arwen is a Cymry Cymraeg” I would know that Arwen is a Welsh speaker. Alternatively you say the more literal “Siaradwr Cymraeg” (Welsh speaker) or “Dysgwr Cymraeg” (Welsh learner).

Side note: These days, there’s a lot of discussion over how labels influence identity. So there’s lots of debates over going by Cymru in official capacities and such, however dw you are not committing any mistakes or hate crimes by using “Wales” or “Welsh”. You are however, definitely an asshole if you criticise a Welsh person’s decision to personally only use “Cymru” or “Cymraeg”.

Next up is a quick guide to the alphabet/sounds before finally, the main meal: slang and terms of endearment

Note: I am not the collective consciousness of every Welsh person. My experience is not universal - especially when it comes to North Walian things. This is just meant to serve as a general guide. Hope this helps and good luck with your writing!

pt.3

[spindrifters]

excerpt - ch. 44

It’s half four in the morning when the screaming starts.

Remus is all but dead to the world, a soft bed and duvet wrapped tight, sunk into a deeper sleep than he could have possibly imagined a year ago. Doesn’t matter. He’s awake in a matter of seconds. Old instincts kicking in — that, or just having lived long enough at Sirius’s side to know the way this goes.

A hand over his mouth — and Remus wouldn’t have done that, either, a few months ago, but he understands now that this is what Sirius needs. He rolls over to cover his thrashing body with his own, heart tearing even as he keeps a tight grip, the pressure of the hold as he pulls him in tight. Sirius hasn’t had a nightmare in months — not since Phoenix, not since them. Maybe it was naive to think it, but Remus finds now that he’d more or less assumed they’d waned off with Black Manor and its inhabitants firmly behind them. Apparently he was wrong.

“S’alright,” he hushes him gently, nosing behind his ear even as his hand stays firmly pressed over Sirius’s mouth. They can afford to be a bit louder, here — even without a muffling charm, he knows Mum and Sarah in the next room over wouldn’t much mind. But Sirius is a physical person, with tactile needs. This works better. “C’mon, Pads,” he says, a kiss behind his ear, “wake up. It’s only a nightmare. You’re safe. You’re safe.”

A shudder passes through him, Sirius’s shouts waning into a whimper even in the depths of his dream, and Remus’s heart wants to break.

Fucking hell, when will those people finally leave them alone?

Remus holds him through it, one hand splayed over the erratic beating of Sirius’s heart, until the small cries and panicked mutterings subside and those long, dark lashes flutter open, eyes glazed over and unseeing. He moves his other hand from his mouth, presses a kiss to his temple.

“Moony?” Sirius whispers into the dark, and Remus hates how small he sounds. Sirius is vibrant laughter and untameable rage. There’s nothing small about him.

“I’ve got you,” he says, smooths a hand along a temple each, pushing back sweaty strands of black hair to look into his eyes.

“My mother — ”

“Isn’t here.” There’s a ferocity cutting into the calm there, one Remus hadn’t intended for but fuck it. Sirius — wide eyes and too-fast heartbeat — needs to know. “She isn’t fucking here, Sirius,” he says again, breathing in the thick air between them. “And even if she was, she couldn’t have you. They can’t have you. Know why?”

He breathes, wills his own heart to calm.

“Because she’d have to get through me first.”

The last of the sleep falls from Sirius’s grey eyes, wide fear sharpening to narrow points as the words sink in, and oh. There he is. Some sort of deep anger behind their gaze, and it’s not for Remus. It’s something else, something he barely has time to register before Sirius is surging forward, and it’s the two of them, then, kissing in the dark night. Lips and teeth seeking each other out, and Remus’s hand tightens at the sharp just of his hip, a reminder that yes. We’re still here. We are.

Autumn’s snapped with the turn into October, and for all it’s cold outside it’s cozy here under the patchwork quilt and piled duvets, warmth turning to sweat as they fumble for each other beneath their joggers. Remus buries his promises into Sirius’s mouth, because it’s the truth. Anyone who wants to take Sirius from him — they’ll have to fight him first. Soon, though, the words are mixing, fading into Sirius’s own mutterings of Never again where he sucks at the skin beneath his jaw, ruts beneath him in the dark — Never, never again, I swear it — and Remus doesn’t know what he’s talking about, only he knows the way the promise fills him. The rolling of Sirius’s hips beneath his own, like the layers still between them might not be there at all, an affirmation in every thrust. The heightening in his chest when Sirius’s hands smooth down inside joggers to the swell of his arse, elegant fingers running along fresh silver scars as he grips Remus tighter against himself, that shiver of being alive, and it doesn’t terrify him anymore, this wanting. Not like it used to. This opening of himself, of letting Sirius inside. Because it doesn’t feel like falling anymore.

It feels like being held.

It feels like holding someone in return, knowing what terrible things you’d do before you let each other go.

Sirius smashes a kiss to his forehead, after, breathing hard in the night. A softer kiss, after that, just on the bridge of his nose, and Remus quirks a curious brow.

“It was the library,” he says finally, pulling the heavy quilt back over them both to chase away the cold, and Remus goes still. “My dream. It was about the night we left.”

“Oh.”

Never again.

There doesn’t seem to be much more to say than that. They haven’t really talked about what happened, not since that day on the beach when they finally sorted themselves out. Hasn’t been much reason to, really, and Remus has found a certain sort of freedom in finally focusing on the future for once, rather than dwelling on the past. But the past always has other plans, and it’s never content to leave them alone.

Only then Sirius is rolling onto his side, that ferocious glint returned again behind grey eyes.

“They can’t have you, either, you know,” he says then, and a warm hand snakes its way up under his shirt, fingernails digging in, just lightly, down over where he knows his brand lies.

His breath catches. He hates that fucking thing. He hates it, more than for what it means, more than for how it looks, more than he ever did. He hates how trapped he feels, how it’s the one thing keeping him still bound, a tracker signal sunk into his chest. But it’s the way Sirius is looking at him now, that ever-expanding mass of contradictions held in one face. Fear and love and that terrible Black rage, the one that might send anyone else running fast in the other direction, cold and sharp and honed to a cruel point as it is.

For Remus’s part, he only feels held.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again,” Sirius says, the promise harsh and sincere and given to the dark night, and Remus can’t help but believe him. “I’ll kill anyone who even thinks it.”

[bullshittingmywaythroughlife]

Person A: Yesterday, I overheard Person B saying "Are you sure this is a good idea?" and Person C replying "Trust me," and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

[benjamin-ovich]

why yes i do like my men slightly deranged and endlessly tortured by their own minds and also prone to occasional bouts of bloodlust

[solitaire-sol]

Daily Prongsfoot Thought 011

James/Sirius has the same energy as Bill/Richie (IT). Observe:

Both are pairs of best friends even among their other best friends, with special bonds or interactions between them that are noted as separate from their interactions with other friends: Sirius is noted as the only one James will listen to, for example, and Richie is the only one who not only notes when Bill doesn’t stutter, but why.

Both feature characters who serve as the heart/‘leader of their respective friend-groups (James and Bill) and their best friend who is outwardly more surly and prone to stirring the pot, but who are in fact motivated by incredibly deep, unspoken loyalty (Sirius, Richie).

Both pairs are initially stunted as ships by fan adherence to (heterosexual) canon: Besides being dead, James marries Lily in canon, and early HP fandom as I remember it was often obsessed with what is or could become canon, while fans of IT focused on Bill’s childhood crush on Beverly and then on his marriage to Audra.

Both have their original book-based relationship overwritten in the minds of many with their portrayals in their respective movies, which downplays their relationship by marginalizing or outright giving parts of it to others: James’ bond with Sirius is eclipsed (heh) by Remus in the HP movies, while Richie/Eddie is canonized in the 2019 IT movie.

Both pairs are subsequently slept on by fans who primarily became familiar with them through the movies, and who often have little or no engagement with the original books.

Many current fans engage with the fandom’s material purely through fandom - fics, art, TIkTok - thus further burying both pairs’ original chemistry and potential under poor movie adaptations and bad takes, with the resulting fandom takes being treated as universal common knowledge: Ex. Mischaracterization of James and Sirius, Bill and Richie having a vitriolic relationship or barely being friends vs their actual novel relationship.

Both pairs are subsumed beneath the shadow of all-consuming fan-preferred pairings, whose shippers have a myriad of reactions to the pairing in question, with a common refrain from fans who are against these pairings being “but they’re such good platonic friends! :)”: J*gulus and W*lfstar for James/Sirius, Richie/Eddie for Bill/Eddie.

In conclusion, Prongsfoot and Bichie (yes, that’s the most common shipname for Bill/Richie) are both tragically underestimated, and should be more plentiful, but will never be fully embraced, as they would easily become too powerful and devour us all. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.

[nyaightlight]

If you’re going to try and tell me that Sirius ‘in serious need of validation’ Black doesn’t have a praise kink, I’m gonna laugh in your face

[impishtubist]

There need to be more post-POA fics where Sirius doesn’t grovel for Remus’s forgiveness (because he didn’t do anything wrong!), and where he actually gets to be properly angry at everyone who left him to rot (Remus, McGonagall, Andromeda, Dumbledore, etc.)

[marleneismydopamine]

remus to himself whenever he gets anything less than 90% on a test: how could anyone ever love a fucking dumbass like you