It's The Levels Of Scrutiny Too.

at the end of the day it's not that you hate your job - actually, you like working, you like routine, you like feeling like an adult - it's that any time you fuck anything up, you feel like you're fucking dying.

because you could be actually fucking dying. because if one day you wake up and you misunderstood something - you could lose your job, and nobody is hiring, and nobody is paying, and nobody takes people like you, and that job you want hasn't gotten back to you. and what exactly are you going to do without insurance? good luck with those meds. you should have thought of that before being a person.

so it's not just that you forgot to CC someone on an email, it's that if you don't have this job, you can't afford rent. it's not that you misread a comment, it's that if you get fired, you will be in massive amounts of unpayable debt. it's not that you are bad at your job, but here are the stakes as they have been decided for you: be perfect or fucking die. like, literally, die. that is how much safety net you have: none.

it's not burnout, technically. but you literally just had two typos in your work, and you're already picturing the ending. you want to throw up & curl up & make it all go away. it is two typos. if he decides he is mad at you, you lose literally everything.

your mom says that you seem stressed. the thing is that you have never known a job that isn't stressful. welcome to capitalism. there is no other road, only this one. what the fuck is a career. you come here, and we hold your life against the barrel of a gun, and somewhere someone is spinning the chamber and pulling. eventually the bullet will come.

you live in a mugging. your boss owns three cars and has four kids. you worry about having enough to feed your dog. good luck. beg for forgiveness. CC the right people next time and be grateful, kid. somebody has it worse than you. someone, probably, has it worse than you. so what if you can't sleep or eat or focus. your work chat sound literally makes you panic. you had to change the sounds of computer notifications so you'd stop having such an upset stomach.

welcome to the real world! the rat race! the dog eat dog circus!

your doctor studies the results and frowns at you. "it's bad for your heart," she says. "try to reduce your levels of stress."

thats the best thing i have heard today(3 fucking completed wolfstar!) and even tho patience isnt my forte, but anything for our Moony, amiright?!

thaaaaanks :))

hiii, i just came across your recent wolfstar write-up and my gawd is it AMAZING!!!!! i just wanted to ask if i is a part of like an entire fic or just one-shots, and if its a fic can i please please get a link for the entire thing??! :):)

Hi friend!

So "No Matter the Wreckage" is in process presently. The intention is for it to be a whole fic (eventually...), but when I write and publish fics, I want to make sure I have the energy/brain space to give to it properly. It WILL be a fic, but right now it's just...bits and pieces lol.

They can definitely be read as one-shots/drabbles for now :) I just ask for patience and grace

You can go to the tag "no matter the wreckage" on my tumblr and find all the bits I've written so far and follow along for more updates/garbage from my brain

But! I am on AO3, u/n greyeyedmonster18 and there you shall find three completed wolfstar fics

xoxoxox

as a fellow bi indian this actually means so much to me!!!!!! i have heard abt this "western influence" so much that there was a time i was afraid to even admit i was bi, even to myself. so, thank you :)

actually yknow what shoutout to indian lgbt kids. to indian lesbian kids, to indian gay kids, to indian bi kids, to indian trans kids, to indian nonbinary kids, to indian ace and aro kids. you’re not under “western influence,” i promise you, there have been lgbt people throughout our history, you’re wonderful and perfect and you deserve the world. ilysm.

ok hun i hold you and your BEAUTIFUL WORDS and poor little harry responsible for THIS torrential downpour!!!!

Fault Lines pt. 3

Fault Lines 1- read here

Fault Lines 2- read here

In which Remus and Sirius get divorced and are raising Harry and just doing their very best.

--

February 1990

“Moony, I’m stuck again!” Harry turned over his shoulder from where he was working on maths homework from the tiny desk in the corner of Remus’ flat. Remus had set it up next to his own tiny desk, usually opting to do homework alongside Harry during the week, or at the very least read so his kid wasn’t alone in his misery. Sometimes, Remus even enjoyed it, though he was sure Harry would disagree. Although the shift had been challenging to get used to, the amended custody agreement that allowed Remus and Sirius to switch off month by month was actually proving to be better. They both got more uninterrupted time. Harry was no longer living out of a suitcase and trying to remember to bring his toiletries from one place to another. There were fewer checklists and worklists and just more time. Harry had two sets of clothes, two sets of shampoo, two sets of books, and toys.

Two parents.

Income was stable and Remus finally felt his feet were on the ground after years of floating in uncertainty and uncharted territory.

Remus stood up from the couch and walked towards Harry, not feeling entirely confident he would be able to unstick Harry from the horrors of primary school maths. And what made it worse was Harry being excellent at the subject, and Harry enjoying the subject after spending the first 4 years of his schooling learning maths with Sirius during the week. Remus of all people knew how exciting and captivating Sirius could make a subject sound when he was motivated to do so; when Sirius was interested and engaged, there was nothing quite so blinding. Remus had gotten a NEWT in Astronomy for that reason alone, and even now could go out and look at the stars on the street and hear Sirius’ voice reciting constellation longitudes and latitudes in the back of his mind.

“Okay…let’s…see here.”

“It’s another mixed fraction, and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but I just keep getting a messier fraction and that’s not right. And then we have to add them but I can’t because I do the first part wrong and then the whole thing is wrong,” Harry looked up at him from behind round glasses, as Remus leaned over his shoulder.

It might as well have been Greek. Remus couldn’t remember a damn thing from his own muggle schooling and even then, maths wasn’t his strongest subject.

“Do…you have a text for this, Harry?”

“It’s at school. We were just given worksheets.”

“Okay…” Remus looked at it again and then back at Harry, “I…am not the person who should help you with this. Why don’t you take a break while I get Sirius over here, hm?”

“Can a break include those chocolate cupcakes in the cupboard?”

Remus smiled, kissing Harry on top of his hair quickly before he could escape from the chair, “As long as you save one for me.”

Harry pumped a fist into the air before getting out of the chair and walking the short distance to the kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards. His flat had been thrown together with, pieces collected from different shops and yard stales when he stumbled across them. A grandmother's lap on the end table; kitchen chairs that were already broken in with gaudy plaid cushion covers; the rug that tied the space together in shades of burnt orange and brown that just needed some extra love to become brand new. It wasn't glamorous. But it felt right. Remus went to the end table in his small sitting room, grabbing the two-way mirror Sirius had given him when the time between visits had gotten longer. It wasn’t uncommon for Harry to fall asleep talking with his godfather.

“Sirius!” Remus said into the mirror and waited a few moments, the unmistakable sound of classic rock heard in the distance before Sirius’ face appeared. It hurt to admit it, but Sirius looked happier than he had looked in years. Sirius laughed more now, and Remus wasn’t sure if he could attribute the newfound lightness to healing from grief or a marriage that he never wanted. There were some days Remus still put on his wedding ring. Checking to see if it still fit? Checking to see if it was still right to leave it off? Sirius hadn’t touched his since the day they left the ministry, papers signed, tattooed hands now covered with other jewelry. The jewelry Sirius had slowly stopped wearing once the wedding ring went on and a kid was put into his hands.

“Hey Moons, how’s it going?”

“I hope I’m not interrupting a party?” Remus asked, watching out of the corner of his eye as Harry shoved a whole chocolate cupcake into his mouth, “Oi! Make sure you chew that at least 50 times, I’m not prepared to do the Heimlich this evening.”

“Mfffhmmmp!” Harry nodded, exaggerating his chewing for Remus’ benefit.

“Party for one,” Sirius responded, “Do I need to come give an etiquette lesson? I’m sure there’s a book around here somewhere.”

“No, but it would be great if you could come give some help on fractions.”

“Mixed fractions!” Harry said, coming to where Remus was standing, chocolate hanging on the corners of his mouth. Remus angled the mirror down to Harry’s level so he could see Sirius’ face.

Sirius gasped, “Mixed fractions? Those are the best kind.”

“And we’re adding them,” Harry told him, “I think Moony was asleep during maths…”

“Might be right,” Remus laughed and looked back at his ex-husband who had put down a glass of wine he was holding, the music quieting. “Would you mind?”

“I’ll be over. But--”

“But?”

“Do I need to bring my own chocolate-whatever or will I have to lick it off of my godson's face?”

“Gross!” Harry exclaimed, though he started wiping his face with his sleeve, “There’s three left, so you don’t even have to fight over it.”

“Imagine that.” Sirius laughed, “I’ll be over in a bit. Floo alright?”

“Floo’s alright.”

--

August 1990

Sirius attributed it to his namesake that he always had a particular affinity towards the sun. Towards the sky. But particularly, he was certain there was nothing that couldn’t be fixed by enough sunshine, and he was inclined to believe that theory after returning to Number 12 after spending the day at the seaside with Harry and Remus. The water was calm and clear. Remus read on the beach under an umbrella while he and Harry jumped over waves. Sirius loved when Harry was a baby, all soft and giggling; easy to hold and warm against his chest. Sirius also loved when Harry was a toddler and was full of curious questions and too much energy. But there was a special joy Sirius was discovering in having a ten-year-old who now understood how games worked, and Sirius didn’t have to go easy on him while throwing a disc. Sirius could still pick Harry up but didn’t have to be nearly as gentle and he loved listening to Harry’s loud laughter every time he chucked him back into the water. They stayed out there all day, watching the sunset on the sea from a muggle seafood restaurant, and as a result, Harry had passed out in the car on the way home, sunbathed and exhausted.

Sirius also realized that ten was still small enough to be carried up the stairs and tucked into bed after stumbling to get into pajamas. Still young enough to want a hug from both of them before falling asleep.

“I don’t think he’s gone to bed this willingly since he was five…” Remus commented, smiling softly as they walked back to the threshold of Number 12 where all their bags had been dropped in favor of getting a child up the stairs. Harry’s suitcase for the month was still there, Sirius thinking that there wasn’t a better way to start the month and the last few weeks of summer with his kid.

“And he’ll deny it too.” Sirius laughed, “Want to stay for a second? I think I have lemon bars left in the fridge…”

“Well, when you tempt me like that…” Remus said gesturing toward the kitchen.

It was comfortable, as Remus went into the cabinets to fill classes of water and Sirius went to pull out the lemon bars. Harry wasn’t living out suitcases anymore and Remus had stopped feeling like an unwelcomed guest in Sirius’ home. Though, that was probably because Sirius had stopped treating him as one. They had open-door policies during their months, and Sirius found that he would go over to Remus’ flat for dinner sometimes on a random Monday, or meet them in the park on Sunday, at Harry’s request. If Sirius was taking Harry to a Quidditch game, Remus was always invited, even if he usually declined. If Remus was taking Harry to see a special exhibit at the History museum, Sirius was invited (and he definitely declined).

“What’s all this?” Remus asked as Sirius finished cutting out the squares from the tin and plating them.

“What’s all--oh. That. Where’d you find that?”

“I’m nosy and looked through your post,” Remus said inclining his head towards the small table at the edge of the counter that had always held the post.

“Appreciate the candor, Moons…” Sirius put the small plate in front of an empty seat on the kitchen table, noticing Remus bringing the pieces of letters over with him as he sat down. “I’ve…been considering taking a few…courses at the Ministry.”

“This looks like more than considering. It says you're enrolled and--”

Sirius reached across the table, pulling the letter from Remus’ hands whose only response was a cheeky grin, “That’s illegal you know, going through people’s post.”

“Seems like you would know. Has a nice ring to it, I think, Sirius Black, Esquire. Is that what they’d called you?” Remus cut off a piece of the lemon bar with his fork, innocently taking a bite.

“You’re terrible.”

“You’ve told me that a few times before.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and cut off a piece of his own dessert, “Harry starts Hogwarts in…well, too soon. I can’t believe it, really. I wanted to stay home because I know James would have and even when we were together, it was just better with someone at home.” Remus nodded, considering his words, “But…he won’t need someone at home anymore, and I figured I should find something to do. Other than…drinking and going on joy rides.”

“Law? Really?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but I’ve gotten very familiar with Ministry legal procedures these past 10 years,” he said and Remus laughed, “So much of it is bullshit, and I don’t know…thought maybe I would try to put my posh last name to good use and try to…change some of it. It’s stupid, really, but it gets me out of the house.”

Remus smiled, “I think…I think that’s great, Sirius.”

“You don’t need to placate me. It’s just a passing idea, I don’t know if I’m going to start…”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s great.” Remus told him, “And..uh..these are also very good. Thank you.”

“I’ll send some home with you. I can always make more.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I know.”

"So...law. Politics. Really?"

"Stop sounding so surprised."

"No, I'm just wondering what all the years of disappointing your family were for if you were just going to end up here," Remus said dryly, smiling around another bite, and Sirius laughed.

"You're right. Should I go find my mother's portrait in the attic?"

"I'm sure she'd love a visit. Pleasant woman."

--

Harry woke up the next morning half in his bed, a foot sticking out of cool linen sheets, and the feeling of sun still on his face. But more importantly, was the feeling of Christmas Morning in his stomach. The butterflies--the dragons-- flapping their wings because your body knew what was in store for the day. Harry knew. Because he had gone to bed and both Remus and Sirius were there.

Because Harry had tiptoed out of his room after being tucked in, to get a glass of water and had heard them laughing in the kitchen. And it was late. He didn’t get his water, not wanting to interrupt Remus and Sirius, rushing back to his room with a smile on his face in eager anticipation of the morning. He tried not to run downstairs because he had fallen a few times doing that and a bruised knee was not going to ruin the day, but he still walked quickly. Two at a time.

He expected to walk through and see Sirius and Remus there. Maybe they would have coffee out. Or Sirius would’ve made something special and Remus would be at the table smiling that smile that made him look younger and maybe Sirius would be hugging Remus the way he hugged everyone that made them feel so safe and so cared about. And it would be perfect.

Harry tried not to let his face fall when he walked into the kitchen and only saw Sirius.

Because that was still good. Sirius was the best. Sirius was his favorite person. Sirius always smiled when he saw Harry and Sirius always let Harry pick his breakfast and would usually go flying with him in the afternoons. But he liked Sirius and Remus best.

“Morning, love. Sleep okay?”

“I don’t even remember falling asleep I was so tired.”

“Yeah, you’re getting heavy too. Practically dragged you up the stairs last night…” Sirius teased as Harry sat down in front of him, Sirius kissing his hand before reaching across the table to put on Harry’s cheek.

“Nuh-uh! You’re just old, maybe.”

“Oh, cheeky, I see. So you don’t want breakfast? I was feeling in a chocolate chip mood this morning and made a bread if--”

Sirius had some superpowers that Harry sometimes wondered where he got them from. If like muggle comic books, Sirius was bitten by a spider, and instead of being able to sling webs, he had the ability to read minds, even if Harry had been away.

“I take it back, I take it back! You’re not a day over…er…t-tw-en--twenty?”

Sirius laughed standing up, “Nice save.”

Harry watched from the table as Sirius magically got out plates for them, cutting the bread by hand.

I used to think that the best way was with magic, but I’ve learned that…somethings are just better by hand. The old-fashioned way. You’ll see.

“Hey, Sirius?”

“Hey, Harry?”

“Where’s Remus?” he asked finally. Maybe Remus was still asleep, just upstairs. Or he was in the next room over. Any moment he would come around the corner. Maybe they should wait to eat the chocolate bread because he would like it too. Maybe he and Sirius would go outside in the morning like they used to when Harry was little so that Remus could sleep, and eventually, Remus would appear in the backyard, with his cup of coffee and sweater no matter the temperature.

“Hopefully at his home, and by the time…I would guess he’s sleeping.”

“How come he’s not here?”

Sirius set the plates on the table and sat down once more, “...Why…well he doesn’t live here. You know that. It was nice he spent the day with us yesterday but he went home.”

But he was here! I heard you! Harry wanted to scream already until one of them finally heard.

He was here and now he’s not.

That’s unfair!

He swallowed, “I just thought he might…be here? Like maybe he stayed...”

“Oh, sorry. We can write him today if you’d like.”

“No…it’s okay,” Harry said quietly, looking back down. The Christmas Morning feeling had faded with his appetite, butterflies turned to ashes in the blink of an eye. He picked at the fruit on his plate with his fork, unwilling to look up, the colors blurring in front of him as his eyes filled with hot tears. He tried to push them down, shake them away because it was too early to be crying and he had no reason to be.

Remus didn’t live with them.

He did. When Harry was a baby and everything wasn’t so hard.

And now he didn’t.

And that was that.

And that was the way it had been for years.

There was no reason for tears when this was just how it was.

Harry sniffed, reaching a hand up quickly, hoping Sirius didn’t see him do it.

“Harry, babe, what’s all this? Hey, look at me,” Sirius said gently, one of his big hands coming underneath Harry’s chin, lifting it upward. “Talk to me, please?”

“I…heard you talking last night,” Harry managed, his lip quivering as he spoke, “Like you used to? I just…you’ve been getting along more and I just thought that…”

It sounded so stupid now, saying it out loud.

Harry didn’t have to finish his sentence before Sirius realized where he was going, hating that he was so transparent.

Elastic heart.

Sirius sighed softly, “I’m sorry if yesterday was confusing for you, Harry. We’re...just really trying hard to be friends. We don't mean to send you crossed-signals about that."

“So you’re not getting back together?” Harry asked in a voice so small, it didn’t even sound like it came from him.

“I’m sorry.” Answer enough.

“Don’t you love him?”

“Yeah, I do. I always will. He’s Remus.”

“Then why can’t you be together?”

Sirius paused for a very long time, a thumb running across Harry’s cheek, wiping away tears that couldn’t be stopped.

Torrential downpour.

“Sometimes…it takes more than love to make things work, Harry.”

A heart comprised of too many rubber bands formed into a ball finally snapped, one by one, until there was nothing left.

“Hey, come here,” Sirius said, pushing his chair away from the table. Ten was probably too big to crawl into your godfather's arms. Ten was probably too big to be crying at the table uncontrollably too. But Harry did both, letting Sirius pull him into his lap, and he felt Sirius' arms wrap around him tightly.

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t really either.”

“But...what about my Mum? And Dad? They died because they loved me?”

“They did. They loved you so much.” That wasn’t enough. They're not here either. “We love you too, you know that? Both me and Remus. And none of this--”

“Is my fault, I know…” Sirius kissed him on the top of his head, pulling away just enough so he could look at Harry in the face. “I..”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I…just thought it would be nice if we all lived together again. Kinda got my hopes up…” he trailed off, his arm still around Sirius, not wanting to let go just yet.

“I know the feeling,” Sirius offered him a sad sort of smile, “Do…should we go have breakfast outside instead? I don’t know much, but I do know there…are few things that just a little bit of sun can’t fix.”

Did you take Remus outside when you asked him to leave? Did you take Remus outside in the sun to keep him from leaving?

Harry learned two things that day.

Love couldn’t save a single person.

And the combination of Sirius and the sun couldn’t fix everything.

wish i could be the old lady in the moon....

Quotes: 1.) Louise Glück, From Averno; “Blue Rotunda” 2.) Ocean Vuong, from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous 3.) Clarice Lispector, from Selected Crônicas; “Excess and Privation ,” 4.) Rachel Cusk, on the reception of Aftermath, as cited in Olivia Sudjic’s Exposure

Art: 1.) Daniel F. Gerhartz 2.) Adrian Ghenie, Henrik Uldalen 3.) Helene Delmaire, Glenn Brown 4.) Alexandra Levasseur

SO, I’M OBSESSED WITH THEM THEN I MADE AN EDIT🥹❤️🤍💙

— august, tathève simonyan

[text ID: promises made by june / had rotten / by the time august came. / i’ve mistaken silence with nothingness / and unlearning it asks for courage / i know not how to muster. / this half-empty glass of orange juice, / ever-present on its throne of dust, / on this wooden table, / holds more promise than i ever will. / i, a personified you, for this is not a wall but a mirror / [personified] / i, i mean you, i mean [redacted] / you eat the sun and with your burnt tongue / try to sing songs / not about pain. / don’t you? / in july / [i] you tried to stretch the rare / moments of happiness but our feet / always seemed to stay out of the / blanket / uncovered. / how do i love something without / fully succumbing to it? / you thought you had to die for you to live, didn’t you? / you thought there’s always a spring after a winter / you didn’t think that / this vivaldian symphony hadn’t been written for bodies like ours, . did you? / in july / you didn’t know that loneliness is a crowded town / yet /  it’s always been bestowed upon you / to lock the gates / and turn off the lights / every night, / did you? / june made promises it knew it couldn’t keep. / but i shall be wiser / in august.]

"The thought of maybe being a good person is what makes me trying to be a good person"

this episode broke me. i repeat. BROKE. ME.

i love lexi and rue's friendship and how real they get with each other. seeing rue being the supportive best friend - that was EVERYTHING!! also maybe the fact that she finally tied her hair - oof

anyway, kudos to cassie, making it look like a horror show; still don't feel no sympathy for nate or cal for that matter;

lexi 'being a fucking g'; maddie chasing cassie barefoot; elliot being all cute and singing a song and lexi's mum being the ultimate personification of coOl!!!

also do you guysss think maddie saying 'its just the beginning' is some sort of easter egg??? mhhmm????? lemme know, yeah?!

OKAY. so that was season 2. loved it. FUCKING LOVED IT GUYS!

see yaa babes next season, hv a nice day and drink lots of waterrr :))

everyone drop what you’re doing and watch this

- James's birthday was an elaborate affair. Everyone James had ever spoken to, looked at, breathed in the direction of, was invited to celebrate his birthday (and not just for posterity or formality; because James genuinely noticed when so and so from Ravenclaw who gave him a spare quill once wasn't around for the festivities. James would apologize the next day for not including them). James's birthday might as well have been a holiday at Hogwarts it was so widely celebrated. With something active and engaging planned by Sirius. Like the year he turned the grounds by the Black Lake into a makeshift seaside, covering the grounds with sand and lawn chairs. Everyone played Beach Volleyball that year, a school-wide tournament, James grinning from ear to ear even as the sun went down and the colder temperatures set in. No one complained of too much activity or opted out of playing on James's birthday. They just did.

- Sirius's birthday used to look like James'. For the first few years. Because what better way to know how loved you were than having everyone you've ever met come celebrate you? Admire you? Pay attention to you on a day that was usually wasn't acknowledged at all. Other than a milestone--a year closer to being of age, of being a proper heir. The first few years, it was loud and obnoxious. A disruption that Sirius didn't even want in the first place but thought he should have. The last few years...weren't. The numbers dwindled as Sirius realized having a lot of people he didn't care about wasn't nearly as great as having a few people he did. Birthdays became smaller at fifteen--but were still filled with loud music, and alcohol and the fattest joints Remus could roll. Parties that went until well past midnight, James stifling yawns behind his hand, the night ending looking up at the stars, just as Sirius liked to do.

-Remus's birthday? The quietest, the slowest, the joy of doing nothing. The only day of the year James and Sirius didn't get up at the crack of dawn and stayed in bed until they had to get up for class. When Remus's birthday fell on weekend, it was an entire day, made up of blanket forts and too much smoke coming out of the Gryffindor tower window. Snacks and sweets and plenty of coffee in bed, three heads for one pillow, sharing a flask, giggling, and shooting the shit until the sun went down. Sirius didn't worry about the crumbs on the bedsheets, James didn't start fidgeting and trying to think of something to do. They just were. Dozing in and out of sleep, waking up to repeat the process. Remus's birthday was a slow day. A slow spinning record. Long cuddles. Wishes made on candles that burned far too long because Remus took forever to think of something he could possibly want that wasn't right there in front of him already.