Snowflake-elf - Just A Silhouette

I really think it's awful to say that Tonks changed or transformed parts of herself to look more like Sirius in order to be loved by Remus, as if she herself didn't deserve it already.

born last and died first, james potter never lived in a world without his best friends

Walking.

What is a pause?

We don't know that. We only know movement.

This is pretty and interesting.

Look at it. Appreciate it.

I will scream at you untill you do.

Give it to me!

Look

See

I want it

Attention!

There ist food you'll eat.

When does it end?

I don't want to see anymore I don't want to hear anymore I don't want to see anymore I don't want to…

Go, we have to

Move

Now, sleep. We won't let you rest. It's loud and scary.

It repeats again. All the same. The same all over

5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.

But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.

One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.

Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.

For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.

But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.

Happy.

It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.

Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.

It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.

A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.

5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.

It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.

Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.

I’m a Rescue.

She gave me a Home.

And, so, I gave her a Family.

It seemed fair

This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.

I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.

don’t give up yet, ok?

It could get good, even.

»Look,« I say, »There's Venus, the evening star, named after the godess of love and beauty, because in the night everything can be pretty.«

You don't answer, you don't even look up from the ground where you've been pulling out blades of grass.

»See,« I say, after some time of you staring at the ground and me staring at the sky, »There's Ursa Major, a polar bear to guide us on our way.«

This time you let out a little »hmmp« sound, but you continue your activity of strewing grass over your legs.

»From there,« I say, after I've waited for you to say something, anything, »You can find Ursa Minor, with the North star to protect us.«

Now you sigh very silently, maybe you're tired or bored.

»Over there,« I say, pointing into the sky, »Is Orion, the hunter, to bring clarity to our journey.«

You hum under your breath, examining a leave with more interest than you've ever showed me.

»And this,« I say, one last attempt to talk to you, »Is Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, resident in Canis Major, to help us-«

Before I can end my sentence, you get up from the ground brushing the grass from your trousers, and all I can do is watch your silhouette against the night sky, as you wander away from me.

I don't see you often in the following months, and now youre looking at the sky, now that I can't see it through the ground.

sirius got a tattoo for regulus first.

his second were the antlers for james, on his hip. later, he added flowers twining round them, representing effie and monty, climbing up his side. his new family, intertwined and growing.

later, there would come the moon for remus, and the waves for peter.

but before any of that, traced in fine lines on the inside of his left wrist, he got the leo constellation. for the brother he missed so dearly, in honour of the name regulus gave himself, whispered into sirius' ear the night before he ran away. the deciding factor; regulus would be allowed to transition, to be himself, only if sirius left. the blacks needed a son. regulus would be better at it than sirius ever was.

sirius would miss him forever, regardless. but at least this way, he’d have something.

🌷 a flower for anyone having a bad day today. i love you

I love that the internet saw people comparing women and other alienated groups of people and went, “they’re dating,” and, “they support each other.” We’re improving as a society.