2. Favorite canon thing about this character?
honestly there is so much i could say here lmao she's such a Character. i'll just say. uh. i love that she took slap bracelets to the moon. OF ALL THE THINGS TO BRING. SLAP BRACELETS. 10/10 i love her
5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?
GOT TO FLY BY MARIAN CALL. HANDS DOWN THE MOST DELLA-CODED SONG TO EXIST!!!
7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?
i like that the fandom (at least here on tumblr) actually explores her trauma in ways that weren't shown in the show... she is full of ptsd and all of us understand that here fr <3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Coming Home, M, 6474 words, Sirius/Remus
His whole life, Remus has longed for a place where he feels truly at home. He’s always felt out of place, a monster trying to blend in with the rest of the world. It took years of searching, but Remus has finally found his home in Sirius. As pathetic as it may be, he'd follow that man anywhere. Sirius is the only home he needs. But, they’re caught in the middle of a war and good intentions have a way of becoming twisted and confused. And, love that once was a steady flame threatens to destroy everything in its path.
OR
Snapshots of Remus coming home to his and Sirius’ flat during the war.
Happy happy birthday @a-fiery-fox here's some pure angst with a sprinkle of smut for you!!
If brevity is the soul of wit, then I am witless to be sure. Not so much a last line as a last passage for Blue Moon, but THANK YOU for the tag dearest Foxy! @a-fiery-fox
Sirius looks like a Renaissance painting, laconically draped over Fabian’s arm as they stand in the threshold of the door, eyes encompassed by pupil as if he’d used belladonna. Or ecstasy. The wide neck of his shirt has exposed a pale white shoulder. It is obscene. There is a birthmark on his jutting collarbone that Remus has never noticed before and something about that makes him furious.
“You’re going home with him?” Remus demands quietly.
“Yeah. He’s a wanker—who doesn’t even own a bedframe, for fuck’s sake—and I’m over him, but I’m in dire need of head, if I’m being completely honest. YOU HEAR THAT, FAB!? WE’RE BLOWING EACH OTHER, AND THEN I’M LEAVING!!” Sirius shouts fiercely, even though Fabian is right next to him and perfectly capable of hearing him, even over the thumping bass in the background. Fabian scowls darkly but nods his understanding.
Don’t. Don’t go home with him. Please.
Zero pressure tags for: @spindrifters @soupy-george @puuvillaa @fruityindividual
Congrats on the 1000 followers, you deserve every one of them.
I won't annoy you with my terrible taste in music ... But I love the idea <3
And I'm torn between please make me laugh and break my heart .... So ....
List 1, number 15 and with Thomas. Please and thank you 🥺💕
hi foxy 💛 this is super late but i've always promised to write all the things i have asks for hehe. i hope you enjoy the angst <3
⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰
It's quieter out here on the back porch. Behind you, back inside the house, you can only faintly hear the ongoing party- the din of people talking, people laughing, music blasting on the speakers, too faint to know what song but loud enough that you can still hear the bass through the glass sliding door separating you from all the noise. The view out here isn't so bad, you suppose. The grass is a little overgrown and it looks like the flower beds could use a watering, but from here you get a decent view of the night sky. The stars are nearly twinkling and there's a story-book-esque wispy cloud drifting in front of the full moon. It's relaxing. You're grateful that you're alone-
But as soon as the thought enters your head, you hear the door slide open behind you and the relative quietness of the moment is ruined as the noises from inside filter out and disturb your peace.
Sitting on the steps of the back porch, you close your eyes and inhale slowly. Maybe it's just someone out here for a quick smoke. Maybe soon you'll be alone again-
"Got a light?"
Who knew three simply words would jolt down your spine like an electric shock, stomach dropping. You would recognize that voice anywhere. You've spent enough nights falling asleep to it's late night ramblings, a familiar warmth pressed along your back, a wandering hand trailing lightly down your side and easing you into sleep.
Ignoring the sudden ache in your chest, you turn to look over your shoulder. Thomas is standing there in the moonlight, his slightly too large shirt slipping a little off one shoulder, his fingers nervously tapping against his thigh where his arm hangs loosely by his side. His back is to the door and so it's hard to see his face, to see what he looks like. Maybe it's better this way.
"No, sorry." You can feel the weight of your lighter in your pocket.
You turn your head and focus back on the yard, on the wilting flowers around the porch, on the scattering of trees and bushes at the end of the yard. A moment passes. You don't hear the door open again.
You do hear the creak of wood as Thomas walks towards you and sits beside you- a respectable distance away, as if you were strangers. As if you didn't know how nasally his voice got when he was sick, as if you didn't know his comfort foods or how engrossed in his work he could get, as if you didn't know he was so laughably bad at directions but it didn't matter because no matter where you went, there was always fun to be had, always an adventure waiting for you, always something new and exciting and-
You stop your rambling brain. There's no point in treading such familiar paths, not when you know what lays at the end.
You sit on the steps. Thomas sits on the steps. No one makes a move until-
Until.
".. how have you been?" he asks, voice a little quiet, a little unsure. As if he maybe shouldn't be asking you this. You wish he wouldn't, truthfully, but just hearing him against makes you shift a little more towards him. There's always been something within you pulling you to him and you fucking hate it.
"I'm alright," you lie. "You?"
A moment of hesitation. You refuse to look at him but from the corner of your eye, you see Thomas slump a little, elbows against his knees. You want to reach out and smooth your hand against his back, maybe scratch a little at the back of his neck and into his hairline just like you know he likes.
Your hands clench in your lap instead.
"I'm... busy," he says with a shallow chuckle. "Feels like I can't catch my breath, you know?"
You do and you don't. You haven't been in his place, but you've traveled alongside him. You remember the jetlag and visiting places you can't actually see before heading off somewhere else. You remember the late nights and early mornings and all the work between them both.
Thomas continues.
"I'm grateful, of course. For the chance to... to live out my dreams. I can't imagine me doing anything else- can you?" he asks with a little scoff. He fiddles with the rings on his fingers and you watch him. "It can just be a lot, at times. It's thrilling and I never want it to end but..."
He trails off. He doesn't finish the thought, but he doesn't have to.
It's stressful. You remember the nights where he couldn't sleep, working too hard, putting himself so fully into the music. The closer the deadline, the more stressed he would get. You remember arguments, harsh little comments thrown at each other- Thomas stressed about the music, you stressed about juggling your own life while juggling his, making sure you went to work on time and called your mother and paid your bills while making sure Thomas ate and got enough sleep and-
In the end, it hadn't felt much like a relationship. You had become a burden to each other and resentment had blossomed between you. Neither of you addressed it, not until it was too late, and you wondered how things would have turned out if you had. If you had taken a moment to talk about your feelings, taken a chance to hear each other out, to listen and grow.
There's a cricket somewhere in the backyard, chirping quietly. The song inside changes and you ca hear the party whoop excitedly at whatever song is now playing.
The silence between you grows.
"I shouldn't be here," Thomas says after a moment. "I should be sleeping. We're flying out first thing tomorrow, so..." He shrugs a little and you fight the urge to shift closer, to rest your head on his shoulder.
Things had fallen apart at the end but looking at him still hurts. Being so close to him makes your chest ache and you remember all the laughter and smiles, all the kisses and touches, all the joy between you two.
You bite the inside of your cheek.
"Just another thing to regret, yeah?" he asks with a sad little laugh.
You bite your cheek harder. What else do you regret? Do you regret letting us end? Do you regret letting me go?
So many things you wish you had said, when you could have said them. But that was months ago and you should know better than to dig up the past.
Thomas looks at you, and you look at him. He's waiting for you to say something, you know it. It almost looks like he's desperate for it, desperate for you to actually talk to him, to hear your voice, for you to open yourself up to him, even if it's just small talk at someone's party.
You look away and stand up, wiping your sweaty palms against your thighs.
"... go home, Thomas," you say, fighting the urge to look at him. "Go home, get some sleep."
He says your name, hardly louder than a whisper, and you can feel his fingers brush against yours. You take a step back, then another, distancing yourself from him.
"Leave. Leave before you have something else to add to your list of regrets."
The noise he makes, small and wounded, follows after you as you head back inside. Even the music blasting from inside isn't enough to drown out the way it echoes in your head.
BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD!❣️ Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people you adore! Absolutely no pressure but. It's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out <3
FOXYYYYYY thank you my dear. This makes my tummy a tiny bit less hurty 🥹🖤
LOOPS! 💫 for the fic writer asks (and 💌 if you want to share sth!)
FOXY!!<3
💫What is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?
The long comments that take up half of the screen, the ones that take a portion of the writing and say something nice about it I LOVE those ones and my lovely @sadderrrrdaze is an expert in those ones<3 Also I love when a person goes from one of your fics to another and you kind of follow them and see their feedback on each one,,, it so lovely to see. (I'm talking about you @chace-vito<3)
I'm not that picky actually, I love all of them<3
💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!
This is from The Empire of the Sun fic, the one that has been rotting in the back mind for literal months now, no it's not going to see the light of the day any time soon but someday I promise.
Sirius didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to him. He was sure they were going to kill him and Sirius didn't even get one last glimpse of his little brother to take in the afterlife with him.
They didn't kill him though.
In the years to come, Sirius will wish they had.
