but one of my lights burnt out

.An Angel Indeed.

SiriusxReader imagine based off the song “I’ll Cover You” from the musical Rent. Part 1 of 2.

A/N: The writing for the reader, I believe is gender neutral. The reader is also James’ sibling, one year younger.

Warning: This imagine is rather long, 2,260 words I think. And be on the look out for sad, needy Sirius. He roams around a little. Happy Reading!

~Link to song~


((Song lyrics are bold and in italics.))

“Live in my house.

I’ll be your shelter.”

You shook your hand, putting out the match that was being pinched between your thumb and index finger. While tossing the burnt stick into the small trash can in the corner, you glanced around the now illuminated living room. The dim light that floated around the room made you sigh with satisfaction. A boisterous storm rumbled outside the walls of the Potter house. Rain pelted the windows, creating a tapping sound against the glass. It was soft and muffled, due to the charm your mother had casted on the house for this sort of weather. You loved summer nights like these, the stormy ones. The occasional crack of thunder or flash of lightning excited you, ever since you were a little girl. Even when the storm would knock out the power, it gave you the chance to fill the house with all different sorts of candles, light the fire and sit on the couch to catch up on some reading. Tonight, that was exactly your plan.

James was out visiting Remus for the time being, probably would have to spend another night because of the storm. Parents were gone on a little vacation for the both of them, leaving you alone in the family home. You were able to run around the house pantless and hang out in any part of the home without having to hear the ruckus coming from your rambunctious older brother.

You fell into the couch, a large fuzzy blanket being pulled over your body as you tried to find the best position to read. When finding it, you snatched your book from the arm of the couch and slipped into your own little world. Unfortunately, your slice of heaven was to be interrupted by the heavy rapping on the front door. Your eyes glanced away from the pages of your book to look up at the source of the sound, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. There was no way James would have made the journey home in this weather and your parents weren’t due home until next week. As you carefully made your way to the door, you made sure to pick your wand up off of the coffee table as you passed.

You jumped as the stranger knocked again, just as heavy as the first time. After taking in a deep breath for courage, you hesitantly turned the lock and pulled the door open, eyes turning to saucers when seeing who stood before you.

“Sirius.. Come in,” you mutter, quickly moving out of the way so the older boy could step inside of the house and out of the storm. You pushed the door closed and turned the lock back into place, starting to tug at the hem of your baggy sweater in attempt to hide the fact that you were only wearing underwear underneath.  

“Is James here?” He asked, nose sniffling as his eyes shifted around the room. You didn’t answer him at first, taking your time to look him over. He wore a large black coat that was drenched, his dark hair falling flat against his face. His shoes were caked with mud, as were the backs of his dark coloured jeans. He must have been running.

“N-No.. He went over to Remus’ a couple days ago..’ Your voice seemed to trail off as you become even more distracted by his appearance. As Sirius turned his head, his eyes met yours. You were now able to see the watery glaze that laid over his eyes and the redness that surrounded them. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were scarlet due to the freezing, rainy weather. His lip was being chewed, all red and peeled..

“Do you know when he will be back?” Sirius’ voice broke you out of your stare. You shook your head in response, almost ignoring him. “Are you alright?” Your voice was only a whisper as you were trying to be gentle. You had never been in such a situation, especially with someone like Sirius. The man hardly showed such vulnerability.

“Open your door,

I’ll be your tenant.

Don’t got much baggage to lay at your feet.”

Before you could comment on his lack of reply, you were pulled against his body, arms wrapping around your waist. “Y/N..” He huffed as his head found a place against your neck, deep, shaky breaths against your skin. You could careless that the wetness from his clothing seeped into your sweater, or how his damp hair pressed against your face. It was evident that something was wrong, and right now, you were the only one that could do something about it. So, your arms slipped around his torso, pulling him close to your body as you rubbed your hand against his back.

The two of you stood in silence as you just let him hold you and try his best to hide the tears that he tried to desperately to push back into his skull. You knew you had to be gentle and patient. Show him that you were there to care for him.

“Hey.. Why don’t we get you changed..? I’m sure we can find something of James’. Then if you need, we can go sit on the couch and relax. Okay?” Your voice was soft as you spoke quietly into Sirius’ ear, taking your hand to lead his head away from your neck so you could meet his eyes. He avoided it, staring down at your now damp sweater as he nodded his head.

Once his shoes were places by the door, socks bunched up inside of them, you helped him pull off his coat and hang it with the others. You then took his hand, fingers tangling with his before leading him up the dark stairway. The moon shone through the window at the end of the hall, casting light onto the wooden floor. The droplets on the glass made it look as though rain danced in the light.

Eventually, you pulled Sirius into your brothers room. You released your hand from his tight grip, starting to search through a couple of drawers. You could feel Sirius’ eyes on you as you moved around the room. When finding what was needed, you lay a small pile of clothes on the bed next to where the boy was standing. “You change in here and meet me back downstairs. I’ll be down once I change,” you tell him before walking out of the room, slipping into the bedroom that was placed across the hall. Before closing the door, you meet eyes with the boy across the hall. “Thank you, Y/N,” you flash him a small smile in return before disappearing into the room.

Soon enough, you were making your way down the stairs, hand tightly gripping onto the railing in case you happened to trip over your own feet. You now wore a long sleeve, Gryffindor shirt and a pair of black pajama shorts, knowing now that when having guests over, it was proper to wear pants.

As you turned the corner, your eyes fell upon Sirius who stood by the fireplace, your book being turned over in his hands. He then opened it, reading over the first page as he waited patiently. You took one step and the floorboard groaned, causing him to turn and look to you. The book closed in his hand and he quickly placed it back onto the table. “Sorry, I was just looking,” he mumbled as you walked over to him.

“No need to apologize,” you hummed, taking a seat down on the couch, Sirius placing himself closer to the opposite arm. He wore grey sweats that were a little short, exposing his ankles, on his torso he wore a navy blue tee shirt. Thankfully, it fit him just fine.

“Just slip me on, I’ll be your blanket.

Wherever, whatever, I’ll be your coat.”

You happened to notice the way he opened his arms, laying one along the back of the couch as the other gestured for you to move closer. You gave a small nod, crawling across the couch to be able to slump into his side. Sirius slid his arm around you, making sure you were held close to him as his hand was taken in both of yours. Your head laid against his chest as you carefully played with his fingers.

The two of you were friends. Not really the sort who would sit around and cuddle each other or express their deepest secrets. But the kind that would occasionally sneak off to the kitchens, or share a few inside jokes. You remembered the feelings that you had developed for him a couple of years back. You remembered that when you told your brother, he told you to smarten up and lose what you felt, probably not wanting to deal with his baby sister/brother being that close to his best friend. You believed that you lost these feelings, seeing Sirius as a good friend. But, as you laid there in his arms, it started picking at your heart.

“If you’re cold and you’re lonely.’

A few moments of silence pass before Sirius speaks up. “I ran away.”

You didn’t say anything. You did not quite know how to respond, so you tilted your head back slightly to look up at him, waiting to see if he would continue the story. Your y/e/c eyes looked into his silver ones, but he stared forward into the quiet fire. “From home.. I couldn’t stay there. All the fighting and just.. I couldn’t take the constant reminder of how much of a failure.. No, a disappointment to my family I was,’ he paused for a moment, sucking in a breath as he blinked his eyes.

‘ It’s like they act as if what they say will change who I am.. That suddenly Dumbledore will force me into Slytherin, because apparently that means so damn much.. Maybe I will do everything that they want me to do or be. But that isn’t me.. I feel like absolute nothing,” his voice faded into a whisper, frustration and distress filling his words. You only hoped that you could take away his pain, to show him how much he meant to those around him. You were aware of his family situation, but not at all to the extent that it was.

‘You’ve got one nickle only.”

Sirius continued to ramble on about his family, unable to stop his words or the few tears the rolled down his cheeks. As he spoke, you took it upon yourself to wipe his tears, hand resting against his cheek. Not once did he dare look into your eyes, it was as if he was scared. Scared of what he would see, if he could see that maybe you didn’t give one care in the world about what he was saying. But, of course you did. Your heart ached for him.

When his final words slipped from his mouth, silence fell over the room. Sirius leaned his head into your hand, eyes closing. He had to have been completely drained from all he went through that day. Exhaustion was basically radiating off of him.

“When you’re worn out and tired,’

You finally found the courage to do something about everything that was going on in your head. So, you carefully tilt his head to the side, his eyes opening to find yours staring back at him. This time he held eye contact. “There is not a lot I can say, okay? But I want you to know that I am here for you and I care for you. You will never be a disappointment to me, to James, to Remus, Peter, anyone who actually matters. And no, whatever your family does or says does not matter at the end of the day because you have us. And you will forever have a home here. Do you understand?”  There was no question if Sirius would be able to take home in the Potter house hold. Your parents were absolutely in love with the boy and James would be absolutely ecstatic.

‘And your heart has expired.”

It wasn’t a lot, but it was everything Sirius needed to hear. He could not hold himself back as his hands pulled away from your body, only to press against your cheeks, his lips finding your quickly. The kiss was slow and soft. He was so lost in your lips and your heart felt as though it could explode at any moment. Your cheeks flushed a deep red, the colour spreading all the way up to the tips of your ears.

Sirius moved his one hand down to your side, arm slipping around you to pull you into his lap before both of his hands took their place on your waist. You straddled him, lips not breaking from each other for one second. Your hands ran up his chest and over his shoulders before laying at the back of his neck where your gently tugged at his long locks.

You were the one to finally break the kiss, forehead being pressed against his as the sounds of your breath filled the space.

“You are like an angel..” Sirius’ words made a wide grin pull on your lips, and a soft giggle escape as you finally opened your eyes to look at him. “Maybe I am,” you whisper, the smile that grew on his face made your heart flutter. This was all that you wanted, for him to forget about all the bad, and to let in the good that would eventually wash away everything that was going on in his mind.

“And how can I repay you?” He kept his voice low as his head shifted to the side, nose rubbing against your temple, fingertips dragging up and down the line of your back. You smirk as you think of what to say in return.

“One thousand kisses.”

“Be my lover, and I will cover you.”


Hope you liked it! Thanks for reading!

youtube

4.2 Light years away.

I was slow to begin, but I’m ready to fade. 

I’ve been alone now, for my whole life.

And I see black, while you see white, in the dark of burnt light for you.

And that way, you can follow me home.

I’m like a star.

I’m burning out fast.

I try to shine, but it’s never gonna last.

Can’t you see me, just letting you down.

With all my friends, i’ll make a picture, but in the morning i’ll be gone.

I’m missing you, during the days.

When the morning comes, I cant stay.

If you saw me now, would it grant your wish?

I’m like a star.

I’m burning out fast.

I try to shine, but it’s never gonna last.

Can’t you see me, just letting you down.

With all my friends, i’ll make a picture, but in the morning i’ll be gone.

Okay Hear Me Out, Fellow Joshua Graham Lovers

I’ve had experience with burns and such.
And I head canon that Joshua’s skin is healed, aside from scars. His whole body wouldn’t be marred with scars but there would be prominent ones scattered across his skin.

Here’s why I head canon/think this:
My dad got in a REALLY bad bad burn accident when he was twenty. Burnt beyond recognition. What happened is he was cleaning out a large tank (gas) in our old barn… The lighting wasn’t great, and without thinking he grabbed his lighter and lit it to see better. You can guess what happened. His whole body was severely severely burnt. Aside from like his lower torso and down. So his stomach and chest and face and back.

He was in the hospital for a long time. They couldn’t actually really do anything aside from well give him pain Meds, clean him up- and oh yeah, shave his scruffy face ((he says that was awful.)) skin peeled and it was even worse because in a few months following was the date he was gonna get married. Guess what? His skin was mostly healed by then. He has scars yes, but he healed.

I know the burn scenarios are different but let’s take time into consideration. Joshua had to have been burned before Ulysses “joined” the Legion. BEFORE the Divide was destroyed. That’s along time before the courier meets Joshua. Think about it, there’s no way his skin is completely burnt and raw still. Yes, he probably has ghost pains, and sensitive spots and yeah the scars must be fucking terrible. (I don’t think he was on fire for that long, it must’ve gone out awhile after he tumbled into the canyon, though obviously it would take months and months for it to even begin to scar and heal. So yes, major scars and nerve damage. But by his meeting with the Courier it would’ve been,,,, what, a year? Longer? Since he was set aflame. And maybe he keeps on the bandages for reasons, like identity, or penance, or maybe the lingering ghost pains and nerves and scars are just that bad.

Idk, head canon whatevs you want. I still draw him fully burnt and crispy. But I think he’s not as “well done” as he would’ve been. It would also make sense with the way he looks in Vegas, like hell his skin doesn’t look burnt and it’s actually pale??? I found that weird. And that kinda triggered my head canon tbh.

Feel free to message me with your own head canons!


((I love our bandagey Mormon, crispy or not!)

9

First time working for a new company did just a load in and quick program of the show. The designer wasn’t a fantastic one but hey it got me work cause he didn’t know how to run the board and apparently didn’t wanna do much heavy lifting. I can’t wait until I get to work with these guys again.Also they gave me a burnt out lamp as a reward XD I think I’m gonna start a collection of lamps from all my shows.

6

The Dota workshop has me feeling pretty burnt out lately, so rather than jumping right back onto my Tinker set (which will probably never see the light of day anytime soon), I decided to block out some more TF2 stuff last night and today. 

I got a new character started, the Soldier!  I only spent a few hours on her, the Spy and the Medic so far, but I got a solid start now and you can see where they’re heading.  I’d like to alternate between modeling out classes I haven’t done before and re-doing my old ones.

I’ve been hearing some talk lately on the subject of Overwatch and older characters (female ones in particular), and whether or not there’s a place for them in video games or if they’re just icky, and thought it seemed like a good opportunity to give it shot, myself.  I hope you like them!

Everything here done in Zbrush and 3ds Max.

I stand to wait outside your door
Lilac sky and perfumed clouds
Drift and a dream calls out from
the abyss

Speckled and sun kissed,
Freckles grace the lips of
Children, too soon called
the angels back home
In summertime

A serpant climbed to my
Knees and kissed me,
The devil dances as man
Defeats himself

Beasts of gory misunderstanding
Too ready to fight on platforms
Raised above land and be pushed
Off to fall back into this
Purgatory

Door opens,
Out comes you:
Midnight,
With the glory of
Mystery

Oh so holy,
Dark night painted
Constellation sky
Shooting stars when sudden
Heartbreak rains
Like windchime melodies,
Soft whispers,
Raised hairs

Time slowly ticks
Watches out of unison
We are aging
Faded and burnt out
Our oil lamp admits one last
Second of light.
No fear for what is
Nebulous,
Grasp tight at the bedsheets,
Welcome
Home,
(Oh night)

2

Scent
Elbow Grease’s fragrance is sweet and floral, reminding me of Tiny Hands. It’s difficult to pin point exactly what this moisturizing bar smells like. Perhaps a gentle fireplace, slightly burnt sugar, and a bouquet of sensual flowers.

Use
While this particular product is designed for brightening tattoos, I am tattoo-less and decided to give it a go as a solid moisturizer. I simply opened one end, then “squeezed” it out as needed so the entire bar wouldn’t be exposed and package-less. It melted very easily, the consistency similar to melting candle wax. It made my skin almost shimmer, not from artificial sparkles but from the way light hits the product on my skin, therefore I can see it would be very effective for tattoos. If you want to add some lasting shine to your skin, give tattoos an added glow, and/or protect skin from cold weather (which wax is great for), then this would be a wonderful bar for you. While Elbow Grease will moisturize, you need to use a lot to reap the benefits of only that aspect, so if dryness is your main issue I’d stick with a massage bar.

“Write about what you feel.”

I feel nothing. That’s the problem. I am a hollow husk that has black edges and burnt corners. Dust curls up in my rib cage and flowers wilt in my hands. I have a deserted gas station in my chest , with cracked windows and broken floors. The lights are out no one is home.
You tell me to write what I feel and this is what I feel. A hollow ache, an empty ringing instead of the beating of a heart a sigh when I should be screaming. Tumbleweeds blow through my mind. I want a riot of color of emotion and feeling. But all I feel is

Nothing

we were a perfect match,
we were the brightest ember in sight.
but then, one day, you decided to leave,
because you liked a different kind of light.
now, I’m no more but burnt out,
waiting to be struck orange and red.
for when you see my flames shoot across the sky,
you would then like matches once again.
—  therecordshows, please strike me once more
Higanbana
Anju
Higanbana

you said heaven is at the edge
of the burnt-out sky
I can’t go back
to yesterday
when I watched the vanishing evening sun

why do my eyes still
search for tomorrow’s sky?
I can never look up at it again
with the one I love

swaying in the rift between light and dark
a blood-red higanbana
who are you waiting for?
waving your hand
in the tar-stained morning

I still carry the precious days I spent with you
inside my heart
like a wounded stray cat
I close my empty eyes
and give myself up to them

why does this life
still want to go on living?
even as the wound in my heart
rejects the morning sun

swaying in the moonlight
a blood-red higanbana
are you an angelic demon
waving your hand
to me

when you take that final step
and look at me from inside the flash of light
you say “not yet” and pull back
the door to hell closing

swaying in the rift between light and dark
a blood-red higanbana
who are you waiting for?
waving your hand
in the tar-stained morning

swaying in the moonlight
a blood-red higanbana
are you an angelic demon
waving your hand
to me

“It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.

How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such infinite pains and care I had endeavoured to form?”

– Mary Shelley • Frankenstein

It has Got to stop.

I will be upfront. I am a teacher, white, female, Jewish, late 30’s.
I am now having to deal with more issues in my classroom then ever before and one of them just outright shocked me. It’s called colorism. Before I started teaching I knew what racism was, but had never heard of colorism. I’ve seen racism in my classroom - usually taught at home by the parents and have called it out every time it happened in front of me. I have learned to listen for colorism happening in my class as well. In colorism, lighter skin African-Americans people often see themselves as better because they are closer to white, and make darker skin people feel bad because they are dark.

In my classroom I had to call out one light skinned African-American boy for calling a boy with skin darker then him “burnt” and “ burnt toast.” He was very clear that he thought himself better and was insulting the other boy.

Another time I had girl with dark skin try to color herself with white skin. I stopped her, gave her the correct color and told her there was nothing wrong with coloring herself the color she is, that her color was just as beautiful as anyone else’s. She cried. She never heard that before. Her paler skin cousins are the ones who get called beautiful. That made me cry with her. She’s a beautiful child and didn’t deserve that negative comparison to her cousins.

I hear sixth grade boys saying how they would never date so and so because she’s “too dark.” My response is usually to sit down next to these boys and reply softly, “Well it’s a good thing you’re not interested because she’s too smart to date you.” This usually followed by whoops and “Ooo, burn.” Which is followed by me asking them, “How did being told you’re not smart enough for a girl feel? Rotten, right? Embarrassed? Then how do you think that girl feels to be told she’s too dark?” The kids who are quick enough get it. Those who aren’t have a longer conversation with me until they do.

I have been teaching for 16 years, and these are the small battles I fight in my class. But these battles, I believe are far, far more important then if they can pass an arbitrary state required test.

Your skin color proximity to caucasian should not be how young African-Americans measure their self-worth.

If you are white, black, latino, asian - whatever - and you hear or see not just racism but colorism as well, call it out. Be an ally, not a silent witness.

There’s too much hate between the races to hate your own. It has got to stop.

dont dip socks in lighter fluid ok, just do not

so its been pointed out to me that i dont post a lot of original content on this blog, so ive decided that it is story time

so when my sister was a freshman and i was shit idk 12? 13? a couple of her friends came over for dinner 

so the 4 of us and our dad were all chillin outside lowkey whatever and my sister decided she wanted to try to create The Most Flammable Substance

reasons this was a bad idea

  • our family has a history of fire related incidents
  • my sister once set the microwave on fire trying to make easy mac
  • ive seen my dad burn water trying to boil an egg
  • we almost burnt the house down one hanukkah when my parents tried to teach us how to light a match
  • my dad once came into my room and set my school issued romeo and juliet book on fire, and then left

fire is not our friend

so the attempt at creating something flammable failed miserably, and actually ended up putting out fires, which was an interesting plot twist, but naturally, this is not where the story ends

so since we could not create our own Extremely Flammable Substance, we decided to use one that already existed, in fact, we used something that existed for this very purpose

fucking lighter fluid

so now the idea was making torches, and we had sticks and lighter fluid and matches, but it was going poorly, cuz anyone whos seen an indiana jones movie knows that torches arent just straight up wood that u light on fire

heres where the “adult supervision” role of my dad started to be questioned (the fact that it took until now for anyone to be worried probably says a lot about my life and my choices) 

he told us we should put fabric around the sticks, and dip that in lighter fluid, which if u need a torch while ur stranded is great advice, but for 4 suburban barely teenage pyromaniac girls, this was probably the dumbest thing he could have told us, because i was immediately sent upstairs to procure old socks.

so i get back outside and theres already a glass filled w lighter fluid ready to go and 4 new sticks and some rubber bands so we tied the socks around the top of the sticks and dipped it in the cup and viola! homemade torches!

except of course none of us actually expected them to work and we were all intensely afraid of getting burned so as soon as we were all holding foot long sticks of flame, reality set in and we freaked the fuck out 

several things happened at once

  • one girl started running and crying,holding the torch out behind her shouting “its following me! its following me!”
  • my sister put it too close to her face, got too hot, panicked and threw her torch across the yard
  • their other friend just sat down on the grass and kept hitting the ground w the torch hoping to put it out
  • and i stood very still in terror until my dog ran into me and the torch went flying

at this point my dad had already gone inside to try to salvage his reputation as a responsible adult and so he could assume plausible deniability bc hey. he wasnt out there when shit hit the fan. not his fault

and now theres 4 teenage girls and a dog staring at a yard aflame, until someone decided it was too close to the house and ran around to turn on the house

my mom still thinks it was just a particularly dry summer that turned all our grass brown