“I Love Everything You Hate About Yourself.”

NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES: The Marauders

You are all a lost generation.

this was.. *chief kiss*

just plain beautiful

vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche || s.b. x reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: smoking, fluff, me not knowing french

a/n: extra translations at the end

—————

The air was thick was the scent of smoke, the curling of which held your attention. It wisped gently above you, nearly a dance, and your fingertips itched with the urge to mingle with the tainted exhalation. But you were weighed down by the effects of lethargy, slipping in and out of consciousness.

Sirius’ fingers chose indolence as their nature, combing through your hair and trailing down your spine, recurrent actions that lulled you. His free digits were attending to the lit cigarette, his lips spilling comfort from such perfume.

“You still tired, baby?” he murmured, noticing your half-lids. His ministrations paused to help tilt your head up, your chin seating on his chest.

You managed a slight nod. The common room was empty, the students blissfully stuck in classes—exactly where you and your boyfriend were also meant to be.

He made a soft sound, brushing the strands from your forehead. His eyes held adoration—the sort you rarely saw without such privacy. It was pure. He offered you the tobacco, a subtle lift of his wrist, but you declined it, instead turning your head back down and staring into the perfunctory fire.

“How many more exams?” he asked, taking another drag.

You sighed, “Two? Three? I don’t remember.” Your nails drew along the fabric of his button-up, the cotton soft.

Skipping class with Sirius was a common pastime, and it only grew more regular as exams finished. Often, he drew you into the common room, laying across couches and pillows, letting you rest; it was one of the few times you could do so serenely, nights dedicated to studying. The two of you would sleep, or speak, or merely stare into space; there was no pressure, no worries, no intrusions.

“Doing so well, love,” he murmured, stubbing the cigarette out on the nearby ashtray. He left the paper there, letting both arms wrap around you. “I’m proud of you, you know. You work so hard.”

The praise settled any anxiety that prevailed, and you smiled, pressing a spare kiss to his collarbone. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ own lips found the crown of your head, lingering for only a moment, just as his fingers dragged along your side. “Of course, ma vie.”

Those words, the endearment, curled your mouth further; his French was something few were privy to, the side of him he kept hidden—remnants of who he truly was, where he came from. It was all the push you needed, getting the energy to squirm and sit up.

Sirius followed you, pushing to be propped against the armrest, then pulling you to be straddling his lap. You reacclimated, then grinned, smoothing down his hair and playing with his tie. His hands settled on your hips, and his head cocked in question.

“Tell me something in French,” you said, dusting your touch across his shoulders.

But one of your hands was quickly removed, courtesy of his own grip. His other stayed on your torso, thumb rubbing circles on your waist. “Je vois la vie en rose,” Sirius hummed, placing the tips of your fingers to his lips. “À cause de toi.”

He finished with a kiss to the pads, though didn’t move to extract them.

“What?” A soft giggle tumbled out, your index dragging over his cupid’s bow. “Je ne comprends pas.”

He grinned at your poor attempt at the language, leaving one more kiss to your knuckles before dropping the appendage to his chest. His brow raised in amusement. “You’ll just have to learn to find out, then, won’t you?”

Ignoring the taunt, you quickly scooted closer. The sun that filtered in highlighted the scene, nearly picturesque; smoke still rose behind him, and you absently loosened his tie, getting comfortable. “Teach me?”

He considered you for a second, chin raising, then: “What do you want to know?”

You tapped a staccato to the hollow of his throat, thinking. “How do you say…‘I love you’?”

“Really?” he laughed.

Your mouth turned down, a pulled frown, but affection lit his pupils, his head shaking.

“Je t’aime,” he answered.

And this time, it was his fingers that traced your lips. “Je t’aime,” you repeated. When he smiled, you continued, “What about…” you paused once more, “...‘I always think of you’?”

His eyes flickered. “Je pense à toi tout le temps.”

Slowly, you fumbled the words back.

It earned another chuckle. “What else?”

You rolled your eyes, but did melt further into his body as he shifted down the couch. Your lips poised over his left pectoral, the steady beat lying there. “‘You make my heart race.’”

“Tu fais battre mon cœur.”

“Tu fais battre mon cœur,” you echoed, easing your eyes shut, his tenderness too much a balm. “‘I want you.’”

“J’ai envie de toi.”

You murmured it back, voice muffled. After, you remediated, “‘I want to be with you forever.’”

Sirius trailed a thumb along your bottom lip, letting your limbs entangle. He joined you in such relaxation, sunlight and studies draining you both of all energy. One arm curled around your waist, legs slotting, but he kept the hand grazing your face. “Je veux être avec toi pour toujours.”

Your words, whilst slurred, still copied him. “Je veux être avec toi pour toujours.”

Sirius shifted under you, and you looked up, finding his gaze already on you; you, the slope of your nose, the angle of your jaw, the face he would know blind. He gave you a more personal smile, letting your admission ring a few moments more. “Moi aussi, ma chérie. Je veux passer ma vie avec toi.”

Your brow furrowed, mouth heavy with the new phonetics. “What does that mean?”

“Me too, my darling,” he responded, English this time. “I want a lifetime with you.”

You met his smile with one of equal ardor. You adjusted so you could lay on his shoulder, then within the crook of his neck. The smell of smoke wafted off of him, and it reminded you of home. “And that’s what we will have.”

The seconds ticked by, no disruptions. It was only you, him, midday light blooming through the common room. Cigarettes and kisses and mirrored French. Your arms and his legs and the lips that met once, twice, three times.

Lids weighed heavy, dragged down in satisfied fatigue; relaxation you earned. And, as always, you were asleep first, curled against him, later to be found by James, Remus, and entertained smirks.

But before he let go, Sirius let his unfinished sentiment depart, unbeknownst to your half-awake state—the state that caught onto the unfamiliar words. “Tu fais partie de moi,” he breathed, a tongue he hadn’t spoken in so long, “Je t’aimerai pour toujours.”

—————

translations:

ma vie — my life

Je vois la vie en rose. À cause de toi — I see life in rose. Because of you.

Je ne comprends pas — I don't understand

Tu fais partie de moi — You are a part of me

Je t’aimerai pour toujours — I will love you forever

—

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Dmm just thinking about how exile by Taylor Swift are Sirius and Remus most inner thoughts/feelings, when Sirius was in Azkaban after thinking Remus was the spy. 😓✋

I’m once again thinking about Sirius, Remus and their epic 39 line stare.

can’t wait to visit someday

Shakespeare and company is my new favorite place in Paris

okay but hear me out:

In first year Remus never told anyone when his birthday was

The marauders made a big fuss on birthdays

Until Sirius asked McGonnagal

She told them because they were super annoying

Remus wakes up on his birthday thinking it would be a normal day

Instead wakes up to his friends holding balloons, gifts and a sign that said “Happy Birthday Remu”

They blamed James

Remus was utterly shocked at his friends

Tries convincing them today is not his birthday and they shouldn’t celebrate

“Nonsense. This is gonna be LEGENDARY”

They sing him happy birthday in the Great Hall too

And whenever they come into each other in the halls

And at dinner

To end the day they sneak out past midnight to the astrology tower

They gift Remus a cake (It said again “Remu”)

Remus goes to bed so happy because he has the best friends ever

“some people think sirius loved remus despite his lycanthropy. wrong. sirius loved remus WITH his lycanthropy. he accepted and loved this side of Remus with everything he had. sirius loved remus, lycanthropy and all.”

i like fully want to agree with this, like wholeheartedly wish I could- but if he did love remus with lycanthropy he wouldn’t have used it as a excuse to stop trusting him

Same with James and lily, sure they never believed Remus was the spy but they still didn’t tell him they were switching the secret keeper, so there must’ve been some doubt in their mind/ mistrust (and let’s face it, it was because of his lycanthropy- nothing else) that Remus was in fact the spy because as a werewolves he had a “motive”

SIDE NOTE: I bet you if peter was also a werewolf (hypothetically speaking) I bet you they wouldn’t have trusted him either in that time

that’s fair! my fan interpretation was clouding my judgment a little bit. nevertheless, i still think only sirius didn't trust remus enough to tell him that they changed the secret keeper. isn’t that what’s given in canon? and even if he trusted remus fully, peter would’ve been the more tactical choice bc remus was in "danger” all the time and wouldn’t be able to keep it safe. peter was less of a target. i’m confused tbh, but tell me if i’m wrong pls. :) it’s been a while since i read the books, but i don’t ever recall reading that james and lily mistrusted remus or suspected him. i don’t think they would’ve ever done that. sirius mistrusted him at some point and james was definitely aware of that, but i'm sure he never ever bought that. in the end he agreed not to tell remus, but i think not bc he believed what sirius said, but bc he loved him and he deluded himself thinking that not telling remus would be a way to keep him safe. mistrusting remus was one of sirius' biggest regrets, but i don’t think it was only bc of his lycanthropy. he suspected remus as the spy bc he was distant and more of a "loner", not necessarily bc he was a werewolf, but that’s just my personal opinion you know. maybe i’m wrong. i know in the prisoner of azkaban they both said sorry to each other bc they thought of each other as the spy. tbh i also think making peter the secret keeper wasn't necessarily a choice of trust. they made him the keeper bc no one would’ve suspected him to be the keeper. it was a trick. ngl this is actually a topic worth of discussion haha. thanks for sharing your point of view with me and if you like, you can write me your opinion on what i just wrote. would love to hear your thoughts and also the thoughts of others.

~*~

if you’re reading this rn, pls feel free to share/send me your opinion on this topic!! 🖤✨

So this is my first drawing of this style… and I’m not really sure what I’m doing.

crying ✨

More wolfstar because I’m rereading the war chapters at the moment and need the serotonin