Sirius Is So Pretty Though. He's Tall, He's Got A Torso Shaped Like A Dorito Just Bc His Bones Are That

Sirius is so pretty though. He's tall, he's got a torso shaped like a dorito just bc his bones are that way, and he's classically handsome. But he's also inexplicably pretty. He is harsh like frozen snow which protects the delicate flowers of early spring beneath its surface. He is the only true gryffindor since godric himself, and he loves deeply. He has little to no self preservation, and people are drawn to him. Everyone wants to fuck him bc he's so hot, and everyone wants to be loved by him bc that's something singularly precious. And people want to destroy him. Either forcibly melt the ice, or stomp on the delicate thing underneath. He is everything, and he manages feats of magic that are incomperable. And bc he does the impossible, again and again, people lose perspective on where he can cheat the system, and where he is a victim to it himself.

No thoughts just one half of larry showing their form of jealousy when someone else touches their man

🎶 It ain't easy being of the jealous kind 🎶

Harrys jealous love language was I must physically touch louis so everyone knows he's mine 🌟

Louis jealous love language was giving "the look" and a few choice words 🙃

i’m seething with tired frustration when stumbling upon fics centered around parental remus that’s more involved in harry’s wellbeing and life in general juxtaposed against an angsty, almost cartoonishly childish sirius, whilst canon events are piping fresh in my mind. i was listening to the poa audiobook recently, and do you know how jarring it was to hear remus chastising harry’s behaviour?

people bring up the point that remus had zero obligation towards harry: he’s a child, not a friend; remus is chronically ill and cash-strapped; it’d be bizarre for a grown man to get to know harry by introducing himself as their dead parents’ friend. well, by the same token, it isn’t as bizarre—or frankly alarming—that a grown adult should scold an orphan for throwing away their sacrifices while insinuating a close relationship to them?

the first time harry has an inkling his professor and parents might have been fast friends is when remus hits him with a biting “gambling their sacrifice by wandering the castle unprotected with a killer on the loose seems to me a poor way to repay them” when remus was shamelessly keeping sirius’ secret to himself at the risk of harry’s safety all along. it seems laughably manipulative and self-serving of a man whose friends spent years learning how to transform into animagi to assist him and keep him company during his lowest moments to not repay their kindness towards their orphan son.

yes, remus is a marginalized member of society, but is he an impoverished muggle victorian wasting away from a dickensian disease unable to procure funds for a horse, too sickly and plagued with mobility issues for a long journey?? he has a wand and apparition license, and he probably could’ve picked up a directory to search for the dursley’s residence if he so wished to check in on harry in secret. travel costs nothing for him. he doesn’t suffer from chronic mobility issues three weeks out of a month (being generous here as post-transformation aches are nasty). he didn’t have to see him in person. he could’ve just lurked in the shadows, maybe even dropped an anonymous tip to wizarding or muggle social services after taking a small peek into harry’s life, troubled over the signs of maltreatment and neglect.

or fine, so he couldn’t accomplish such feats during the first twelve years because his guilt is an infinite abyss deeper than the marinara trench and other unforeseen circumstances. what was stopping remus from slowly getting closer to harry and finding an opportunity to gently break the news he was once close to james and lily when he began his teaching stint? it might have somewhat softened the blow of his words, then. maybe.

honestly, the nerve of a stranger (because again, remus is nobody to harry at that point) to just come up to an orphan and tell him he’s figuratively dancing a jig and spitting on his parents’ graves. you are his teacher, you do not get to tell him off as if you’re a family friend when you’ve been purposefully distant with their son.

remus has nothing on sirius when it concerns parenting or being a responsible adult figure. sirius was on the lam, unable to live in human form, risking capture and surviving on bloody rats just to stay closer to harry. sirius suffered twelve years with soul-sucking monsters who feasted on every last good memory and shred of joy, and sent their victim spiralling into depths of despair from their most horrible experiences—and we can infer his childhood was ghastly—yet somehow remus’ monthly furry problem excuses everything under the sun. but not sirius.

sirius who is battling pstd and depression, and putting on a brave smile for strangers who insult him under his own roof and treat him as an unstable and easily combustible person. sirius who is reliving every hellish childhood memory in that mausoleum of a house and trying to protect harry by keeping his godson informed and injecting some levity into their miserable lives, gets painted as an impetuous overgrown teenager unfit to be harry’s guardian. but not remus.

grrrr.

please don’t strip sirius of his core characteristics and turn him into a caricature of his canon self while propping up or whitewashing remus. he’s not the tall and irresistible brainiac of a casanova fanon has redefined him as. remus is canonically greying, looking like he’s one good hex away from meeting his maker, perpetually exhausted, and possesses a generous heaping of cowardice. he’s not the cleverest among the marauders because he’s scholar-coded. one can enjoy books and reign supreme in a specific field of interest without ranking top of the class. disillusion yourselves; he did not tutor james and sirius because their marks were inferior to his. instead, the duo sailed through their classes without much effort.

to be clear, this isn’t me lambasting remus to make sirius look good. this is a stand against fanon remus (and enforcing the truth of canon remus) because his fanon portrayal has permeated almost every other fic and is being bandied around as the essence of canon remus. and frankly, it’s absolutely cheesed me off to the point of disliking remus entirely. if you want to project your desires and fantasies onto remus or fetishize him, please just include self-insert or original character in the tags.

ok, thanks, bye.

full disclaimer: this is an anti himbo james, anti himbo sirius, anti himbo harry, and anti himbo ron space

these boys, described multiple times as bright students—who performed well in exams in spite of their fairly blasé attitudes towards studying—didn’t execute magical feats well beyond their years whilst juggling a full academic workload and dubious quality of education, at times for the fandom to depreciate their intelligence and reduce them to cavalierly confrontational good-for-nothings who rush into danger like lemmings and come out the other side purely by dint of luck and a book-smart friend conditioned to save their necks (and their academic progress).

can we finally bury the notion that they’re either chinless wonders or slackers heavily dependent on that one friend in class? like did they carry a pocket-sized remus or hermione into exam halls to wheedle answers out of them or ghostwrite their assignments after school hours?

be for fucking real. stop equating dislike of homework with subpar intellect. fred and george are fine examples of underachievers whose cleverness shone brightest outside of a classroom setting.

They run him ragged.

my accompanying drabble to @padfootastic's recent piece (also not proofread at all so please excuse the incoherence)

James with adhd and protective Sirius who will fight anyone who hurts his friends, told from Lily’s POV.

Lily does not really start paying attention to James Potter and Sirius Black until fourth year. She says James Potter and Sirius Black because in her head, it goes together, saying one without the other, while physically possible, is not very likely, and always leaves a feeling of something missing, something being out of place, something being not right. Like only having a knife for dinner, without a fork to accompany it.

She does not really pay attention to their antics when James keeps turning around in his seat every ten minutes during class to whisper something at Sirius even after they’ve been separated; does not listen when he talks loudly over breakfast, jumping from story to story, getting distracted in the middle, never properly finishing anything while Sirius just sits there and laughs at it anyway; does not really pay attention when on their very first day of flying class, James Potter surges up into the sky after he’s just explicitly been told not to do that, almost falls, laughs, winks at them from above, then almost falls again, all the while being yelled at by Madam Hooch and cheered on by Sirius Black, who got his own fair share of scolding after that for endorsing him.

She rolls her eyes, clicks her tongue and looks away.

When James shows up to class late yet again, grinning sheepishly with his hair sticking in all directions, apologising to the professor with the same old excuse of mixing up the hours, she rolls her eyes; when he keeps tapping his foot against the floor, twirling the quill between his fingers restlessly as his eyes keep darting around until the ink is spilled all over his robes and desk, she clicks her tongue; when he starts telling something when they’re all gathered in the common room around the fireplace, words an incoherent jumble of excitement that get mixed up so badly as he keeps jumping around from subject to subject that nobody around him is keeping track of anymore, she looks away.

She looks, but she does not see. She sees, but she does not notice. She notices, but she does not understand.

Not until Sirius Black, that is.

“What’s your deal?” The boy snarls angrily, abruptly jolting up to his feet to make his way over to where she and the girls are seated at in the common room.

Lily blinks. Sirius’ cheeks are a little flushed, like they are either when he’s angry, embarrassed or just came back from Quidditch practice (and seeing as it’s neither of the last two, it has to be the first one). His light grey eyes are narrowed, glinting at her dangerously with a promise of trouble in them, and one of his hands is clenched into a fist by his side. He seems upset.

Lily just looks at him. She has no idea where this hostility erupted from all of a sudden - everything seemed perfectly normal to her, up until this point.

James and the boys have been in their corner of the room, as per usual, quiet enough to keep an aura of mystery around them that drew the curious eyes of anybody who did not know better, but loud enough for it to be impossible to remain unnoticed.

They started off with studying, and then it somehow escalated to charmed paper-folded swans flying all around the room, up to the ceiling, bumping into each other, one of them falling between Mary’s spread out legs on the sofa.

“Just focus on your homework!” Lily yelled at them across the room, frustrated, after she just found herself rereading the same paragraph for the third time. “You don’t have to keep drawing attention to yourself all the time. Nobody cares.”

James smiled at her apologetically from a distance, flashed everybody his symbolic, white-toothed grin, saluted the rest of the boys for a good night, and made his way upstairs. Lily did not think twice about it, settling into the blissful silence of the room.

“What’s your deal?” Mary retorts defensively when Lily just keeps looking at him, confused.

“I wasn’t talking to you, MacDonald.” Sirius snaps viciously before turning back to glare at Lily. “Lay off of him.”

“You want me?” Lily sputters, momentarily at a loss of words. “To lay off of him?” She waits for a punchline, but that never comes, Sirius just stands there, looking like she personally offended him somehow.

“He’s loud.” She says at last, because she’s suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to defend herself, even though she feels she has done nothing wrong. “And annoying. It’s hard to focus like that. Just because he doesn’t care about school, doesn’t mean we don’t either.”

Sirius lets out a laugh. It’s not a kind one. “Hard. Oh, is it?” He mocks. “Well, for him it’s hard all the time, Evans. Deal with it.”

And then he’s gone, furiously stomping up the stairs to the boys’ dormitory.

“Ignore them,” Mary tells her, “they’re both missing a few screws, the two of them.”

Mary is right, Lily has never paid much attention to what Sirius Black and James Potter had to say before, why would she now? But the words, echoing over and over in her head, refuse to let go.

Lily does not roll her eyes anymore after that.

She starts paying attention.

She pays attention to James’ hands, that seem to be unable to pause for longer than three seconds at a time at any point throughout the day, like it physically hurts to keep them still. They come up to ruffle his hair, push the glasses up his nose even when there is nothing wrong with their position; they play with his wand, twirling it around between long fingers, dropping it, bending down to pick it up, tucking it behind his belt, getting it out again, spinning it some more; they do the same with a quill when the wand is out of his reach, dangling it between two fingers restlessly whenever he isn’t writing, sticking it in his mouth, behind his ear, taking it out, putting it back again; occasionally he drops it and ink splatters all around, over the table, his skin, his clothes. He just grins sheepishly with that flashing smile of his that is basically a brand of its own at this point, and gladly accepts the distraction of cleaning up the mess he just made.

He moves around a lot when he talks, gesturing with his hands, jumping up and out of his seat, turning the chair over, sitting on it backwards, then abandoning it in favour of coming to sit on top of the table; he tugs on his friends’ sleeves impatiently when he feels like he’s being ignored, raises his voice more, pushes harder, makes sure he is heard loud and clear, always.

Remus and Peter seem to be accustomed to his antics, they nod along, put in encouraging remarks when it’s needed, remind him of the robes slung over the back of a chair when he gets up to leave without them, shove his books at his chest so they aren’t left forgotten on the desk.

Sirius, for as impatient and irritable as he is with virtually anybody else, is extraordinarily patient with him.

Sirius lets him play with his hair, something he is usually willing to bite people’s heads off for when it’s anybody else who attempts to do that. He settles in between James’ legs when they are sitting on the sofa in the common room, and James’ fingers instinctively, without even realising that, reach into Sirius’ hair, picking it apart into smaller groups, twirling the slick black locks around his fingers, braiding them together, then picking them apart again, over and over. When he does that, his voice grows calmer and his speech becomes slower, more focused, he takes his time to pick out the correct words and formulate sentences that are easier to understand.

Sirius lets him mess with the rings on his fingers, another thing he does not allow anybody else to even come close to touching. They are all different, various degrees of width and thickness, some with small stones or words and designs engraved into them, and others completely smooth and bland; each came at a different time and tells a different story, which Lily never cared much for or bothered asking about. He lets James twirl and move them around, take them off and put them back on, fingers brushing over the different shapes and textures.

He lets James draw on his hands arms with moving ink while they are reciting material in the library for an upcoming exam, lets him trace black patterns into his skin - circles, and trails, and shapes, triangles, feathers, roses.

Once Lily starts paying attention, she can’t help but notice.

Can’t help but notice how just before he grins and laughs it off, James’ expression falters for a second, shoulders sagging slightly and the light of excitement in his eyes dimming out when someone rolls their eyes impatiently, or sighs deeply with a tired look on their face, or clicks their tongue at him with annoyance.

She can’t help but notice how he suddenly falls silent after that, completely shutting down, fingers fidgeting even more than usual in his lap as he tries to remain still and quiet in his spot.

She can’t help but notice the way Sirius always tenses at that, eyes narrowing in warning, his grip tightening, knuckles almost white with the effort. He shifts closer to James, and pokes his cheek, ruffles his hair in an amiable gesture and asks him questions, trying to pull him out of his sombre.

Sirius takes off his glasses sometimes. When things are a little overwhelming, and James goes into a sort of stupor, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of everything going on around him, Sirius just leans over and slides the glasses off his nose casually, with the usual excuse of taking them to run a cleaning spell, or without even saying anything at all. James relaxes a little, some of the tension leaving his body.

James always leans back into Sirius in moments like this, pulls away and retreats into him, the only thing and place that seems to offer true comfort instead of agitating him even further. Sirius places a hand over his head and pushes the other’s head down, to rest on his shoulder, on his chest, caressing his hair slowly and gently as he leans down just the slightest bit to press a tender kiss to his friend’s temple.

James is loud, he takes up a lot of presence in the room, taking and demanding until there’s nothing left. But with Sirius he is quiet, he is calm and serene, and he never has to shout or even speak to get what he needs.

Sirius in turn is brutal, he is all sharp elbows and rough edges, vicious glares and sarcastic smirks. But with James he is soft and gentle, he is caring in the most selfless way possible, opening up so easily without the other even having to ask, showing vulnerabilities that he would never dare expose to anyone else.

They are both a little bit too much, but for each other, they seem to be just the right bit of enough.