Perfect! I Suppose I’m In A Sensitive Mood Today. And, For The Record, I Agree That Remus Would Never

Y’know what, I need this. Not even a superstitious person, but, hell, I could really use it

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

Sirius may not have liked Regulus, but, as an older sibling, I promise you, Sirius sure as hell loved Regulus.

I’m so in love with this

kid fic - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 221

"Pads?" Harry asked, innocent face twisted into an expression of confusion. "I have a question."

"What's up, Prongslet?" Sirius looked toward his godson, concerned. Harry never looked so...well...serious.

"Can boys date girls? Because Ron says his mummy and daddy are going on a date."

He almost spit out his tea. The question was so hilariously ass-backwards but so sweetly innocent. Indeed, Harry had been raised around all queer couples- he and Remus, Dorcas and Marlene, Regulus and Barty. It made sense, really.

"Harry," he said gently, pulling the small child into his arms. "You mum and dad were married. Remember?"

Harry's eyes widened larger than galleons. "They dated?"

A snort came from the doorway, and Sirius turned to see Remus standing there, eyes sparkling. "Yes, Harry. They loved each other very much. You know that."

But Harry looked even more confused. "Like you and Paddy love each other, though? Not just like me and Ginny love each other?"

Sirius let out another chuckle. "No, Haz. They loved each other like Remus and I do."

"Oh," Harry nodded, face clouded over with thought. "I guess that's okay, then."

Remus walked up to Sirius from behind, pulling him into a hug. "I'm so glad Harry accepts the straights. We've raised such a tolerant child," he murmured in his husband's ear, making Sirius cackle.

Shit, man, why are all of your takes so correct

tall sirius black with his long hair and tattoos and a cold stare under long eyelashes and furrowed eyebrows emanating aristocracy and arrogance and his tanned curly blonde haired shorter but friendly middle aged dad vibes loserboyfriend remus lupin

Closeups under the cut!

I’m sorry if it came across as defensive, I didn’t mean it that way. I suppose I misinterpreted your original reply, because I read it as aggressive when it, apparently, was not. I’m sorry for that

Remus John Lupin is a dorky nerd in tweed and cardigans who is only strong enough to carry books around, and lets everyone walk all over him, and cries when people go on discriminatory tangents about werewolves/queer people, and makes Sirius help him study, and folds his underwear/socks, and drowns in jumpers that are too big because he’s so skinny that he has to choose between them being long enough or tight enough, and he’s always cold, and he has back joint/back pain, and has a snort-laugh, and a little overbite you can only see when he smiles, and his clothes have elbow/knee patches, and he never gets angry because he’s so scared of being a monster

Soooo tired of people talking about how Regulus was “going against his family” and “the scapegoat” and “an outcast of the Blacks” because like… he wasn’t. He did exactly what his family wanted at all times. He joined the Death Eaters completely willingly. He was a blood supremacist. He was a shit person. He was the favourite child.

Now, if you ARE looking for someone who actually spent their whole life going against the Blacks, was an outcast, and was the scapegoat, I would like to introduce you to Sirius Black. Or maybe you’re looking for Andromeda Tonks? Because you’re sure as hell not looking for Regulus Black. Bro had a damn shrine to Voldemort. And, sure, if you really want to argue that he changed at the end of his life, maybe he did, but that is not the same as being like Sirius or Andromeda.

And listen to me for this one, yeah? When Sirius called Regulus “soft” in OOTP, he did not mean that Regulus was a sweet, touchy, kind-hearted, loving little thing. He meant that Regulus was naïve, too trusting of their parents, and had no spine when it came to their family, thus becoming a prick. Regulus was not a cute little baby, he was an asshole.

I joined the Marauders fandom to obsess over the Marauders, not join the Death Eater sympathizers club.

(Mind you, I have absolutely made Regulus and the Pantheon end up being good people in some fics, so maybe I’m a bit hypocritical. This does not mean that in cannon they were anything other than pieces of shit. Let’s also note that having fun is okay, and you don’t need to always abide by the books. It just ticks me off when people manage to get the things we know about these characters so egregiously wrong that they claim that the cannon and fannon Pantheon are the same.)

Casually falling in love with this

Drift

Sirius burst into the Gryffindor dormitory after detention and nearly fainted.  

“Moony…” Sirius stammered, his voice cracking. “That’s…that’s mine.”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Remus yawned. He was curled up on Sirius’s bed wearing a pair of red plaid pajama bottoms, gray wool socks and…

And Sirius’s quidditch jersey.

“But…” Sirius’s tongue felt heavy and his brain felt sluggish. He couldn’t make words. He could barely make coherent thoughts.

“Sorry, do you want me to take it off?” Remus asked, sitting up slowly and moving to pull the jersey over his head.

“No!” Sirius said, practically diving across the bed at him. He didn’t know what would be worse for his predicament, seeing Remus in his jersey or seeing Remus without his jersey.

“I just was so tired after my shower,” Remus said sleepily, snuggling back onto Sirius’s pillow. “I couldn’t find my pajama shirt, and your jersey was right on your bed, so I put it on. Then I laid down, and I think I fell asleep, and…I hope you don’t mind.”

Whether or not Sirius “minded” was not really the problem. The problem was how cute Remus looked with the oversized jersey slipping off his shoulder, his fingers just poking out of the too-long sleeves, and the name “BLACK” emblazoned across his back. The problem was how Sirius’s pillow would smell like Remus’s woodsy scent of tea and moss and parchment, and the drowsy rasp of his voice making little shots of electricity fire up Sirius’s spine.

Normally Remus was all sharp sarcasm, standoffish mischief, and dry jokes, but in the days before the full moon, he was constantly exhausted and could drift off to sleep anywhere. His friends joked that he could probably sleep through a dementor attack. The Marauders would often find him curled up asleep in ridiculous spots, like the curve of the stairway up to the dormitory or on a window ledge in Gryffindor tower with his face planted in a book, and Sirius and James would take turns scooping him up and depositing him onto his bed.

Sirius had diligently ignored the bubbling, fizzy feeling he got in his stomach whenever Remus nestled his head into Sirius’s shoulder when he carried him across the dorm or when Remus laughed at one of his jokes at the lunch table. Remus was his friend, a Marauder, and there was no way—no way at all—he’d think about Sirius in any other way.

But now Remus was all adorable in Sirius’s quidditch shirt, laying on his bed, and now he was—no, Merlin, this was terrible—he was motioning for Sirius to come over.

“Spoon me,” he demanded through a yawn.

This was another thing that happened to Remus before the full moon. His usual “don’t touch me, don’t look at me” demeanor melted into a need for constant cuddles. It was James who usually obliged, and Sirius knew it was partly because James was essentially a hug in human form and partly to spare Sirius the mortification of having to snuggle the boy he was trying not to be in love with.

But now, James was in a separate detention with Peter, and Remus was pulling Sirius by the wrist onto the bed, and Sirius had no choice but to kick off his shoes, slot his knees behind Remus’s, and let his arm be dragged across Remus’s waist. Remus sighed contentedly, and Sirius felt the sweet little sound vibrate through his chest, making his skin tingle.

“Can I just sleep here tonight?” Remus mumbled into the pillow. “You’re a better cuddler than James or Pete.”

“Sure, Moony, whatever you need,” Sirius whispered, kissing the back of his head before he even realized what he was doing.

“Tomorrow, too, then,” Remus hummed back.

Well, Sirius thought, it’s official. I am truly screwed.

Written for the @wolfstarmicrofic prompt, "drift"

Anyways Sirius Black

Also the lines on his arms/chest/hips are sh scars because I said so. Fight me. Although! The squiggles on his chest/belly is hair. This is a very messy sketch but I liked it so here.

Omg, you’re so sweet!!!!!

So, I’m writing a werewolf!Sirius AU, and I’ve written this quote from his POV.

“Being alright involves letting his guard down, it means putting his trust in someone else’s hands, it means opening his bleeding heart to show off the monsters living in there, clawing at the organ and smearing crimson over his insides.”

I need you all to understand the amount of symbolism I put into this quote, particularly the second half.

It refers to him having a “bleeding heart” specifically (and I know it’s not in this excerpt, but it’s in the bigger thing) in reference to his childhood, along with monsters (his parents, etc.). This is inferring that he is extremely sympathetic and kind, and, because of everything he went through, he can relate to people’s pain even more, which makes him more empathetic.

The monsters living in there bit is a pretty obvious reference to trauma and self-hate, but them clawing at his heart and smearing blood is also symbolism. Blood is red, which is a reference to how his treatment in his childhood made him Gryffindor-brave, along with extremely passionate (which is what red means in colour theory!).

Also, subtle reference to the phrase “bleed your heart out” (meaning, “to suffer a great deal of emotional pain; to feel extreme sadness for someone else”). My boy has suffered and thinks too much about other people.

Anyways, I just really wanted to show off how much thought I put into this line, please appreciate it :)