The Air Was Cold But Something About It Felt Like Home Somehow…

Very curious how tropes change in popularity and I’m wondering…

Please reblog for a bigger sample of fandom. 🩷

sirius who wears leather jackets and paints his nails black and rides a motorbike and grew up in a violent angry house who else could he have fallen for but remus who is soft and sweet, who bites his nails and has brown curls that turn golden in the sunlight and falls asleep in armchairs, who is gentle and forgiving. sirius who always thought the world was violent and angry but who met remus and realised the world has love and softness as well

I'd rather take my whiskey neat (also I am reading tcopt)

Good boy

Hola tumblr

Hi!! for the wolfstar requests I thought maybe Sirius in Remus’ lap and Remus reading a book out loud, Sirius looking up at him lovingly or sth else soft and domestic :) I adore your art, it’s always so gorgeous, i hope you’ll have a lovely day

Waaa thank you!! Youre so sweet ;v;

I love drawing them being soft together,, hope you like the drawing!!

(Got a lil silly and coloured it teehee)

Sirius looked at him warily for a moment, and Remus realised that they had not been this close yet - they had hugged, in the Shack a year ago, but that had been pure adrenaline. It had not been intimate. This was.

“May I?” Remus asked, softening his voice.

Sirius nodded, slowly, then turned his head, so that Remus could reach. Leaning in, not too much, Remus began to work, sliding his fingers carefully through the slick black locks, gently easing the comb through in sections from the bottom up. Slowly, slowly, the knots began to loosen, giving way to that familiar old silken texture.

It was difficult work, and took a lot of patience, and the rest of the bottle of conditioner, but Remus finally felt like he was helping; he was in control and he was doing something positive. Sirius was so quiet and still the whole time; tense at first, but gradually relaxing, bit by bit - Remus could practically see his tendons slackening.

Loony lupin and the absence of personal space

They are just both very dear to me in any shape.

I was trying to draw some parallels of behaviour here.

Happy Birthday, Remus Lupin. You troubled, compassionate, smart, quietly determined, gentle but with an edge of coldness, patient, thoughtful, anxious, wise but clueless, hopelessly romantic but somehow aloof, bundle of softness with edges.

I guess after twenty plus years, I just can't shake you. I promise to treat you more warmly in my work than you treat yourself.

And I promise Sirius Black has you in his soul.