To join in on the Teddy Lupin headcanons:
- Sometimes he would look at pictures of his dad and go up to a mirror and try to look more like him and maybe even say a few words to his reflection as if he could talk to Remus. One day Harry caught him at it but he didn’t say a word because he understood the need better than anyone.
- When he was just a little boy and he was at the playground he would occasionally transform his appearance to look like another kid just to panic Andromeda like the little shit he was.
- He was a big hugger and his friends teased him about it by referring to him as Teddy Bear and he made them swear not to do it in front of Victoire (but of course they did anyway).
- He found a rabbit outside and convinced Andromeda to let him keep it even though it’s the worst behaved pet in the world. He called it a furry little problem once in front of his godfather and Harry nearly choked.
- He used to write letters twice a week while at Hogwarts, once for Andromeda and once for Harry. He tended to edit out some of the things he got up to in the former.
- When he was particularly embarrassed or nervous his hair would change colour. This happened especially around people he fancied.
- He had one of those smiles that was a comfort to everyone who saw it. You couldn’t look at that smile and still be angry or frightened.
- Even though he himself was not a werewolf he was all up on that equal rights for magical creatures/half-humans scene. He started support groups and challenged the way that werewolves were taught in DADA and tried to get laws into place that legally protected werewolves from discrimination.
- McGonagall absolutely adored him. Of course, she never liked to show it, because she never plays favourites, but he had a special place in her heart just like the Marauders and Harry did.
- Even though both his parents were gone he had more family than he could handle sometimes. He had his grandmum, the Weasleys, the Potters, Hagrid, and everyone who used to be in the Order doting on him.
hey kiddos i’m anne, a 20 yo new yorker and also one of your admin~~
this is my new rp blog where i post emotional headcanon vomit but my main is stupidbloodyidiots!!
we are working rull hard on this site and i am coding like nonstop so i hope you are all as friggin pumped as i am. i’m gonna post a skin preview like ASAP, or you can just go check us out on our url, culpa.b1.jcink.com (the site is offline but you can get a rough idea of what it looks like, plus post in the cbox)
on the site i’m gonna be playing remus (hah ha aha), my take on gideon, and a lil dude called charlie diana will probably tell you all about because she’s like, obsessed or something
ANYWAY IM SO PUMPED AND I LOVE ALL OF U ALREADY
who has always been the eldest, the golden girl, fawned over and revered and with a hundred ideas about who she ought to be thrust on her shoulders from parents, aunt and uncles, grandparents, even her own cousins, and history itself.
who is really really over the years she spent being made to take ballet and wear little dresses, of being the glittering blonde jewel at the center of the new weasley-potter crown, named after the end of their war like she’s meant to represent something.
who was never the rebel she wanted to be. every year from the time she’s fourteen she tries something at school to change herself: black hair, purple lipstick, heaps of kohl eyeliner, a tattoo. doesn’t quite understand that rebellion works from the inside out. and every year it’s spoiled by a howler from fleur—whichever of her cousins is in earshot gets the blame and a near-miss hex popping a hole in the wall by their head. the misses are intentional: detention is just an excuse for ugly boys to leer at her.
whose weird potent veela beauty irks her even as she’s not sure she has anything else going for her. her beauty, like her name, doesn’t really belong to her—it’s for the enjoyment of others.
(who is her father’s daughter, and sometimes wishes people feared her face the same way they fear his.)
who draws teddy no less than fifty times in the span of ten years, not because of some adolescent infatuation but because there’s no better artist’s model than a boy who can change his face. her art is hers, at least. teddy, she can’t be sure. they’re paired from the get-go and while he’s probably the best friend she has, the constant awareness of her gran (and a host of others) lurking in the shadows with rings, rice and veil pushes her away from him more often than not.
who ends up working in fashion because that’s the approved outlet for her artistic streak. and who makes lots of money doing it, because she’s good, and suddenly her desire to wear nothing but black all day everyday is chic and not “dreary”, as fleur would say. who doesn’t really mind being referred to as rich bitch behind her back.
who uses the sharp humor of an insult comic to distance herself from any feeling that isn’t content or anger, building walls, letting go only in paintings she increasingly lets no one see.
who is alternatively selfish and selfless, independent and resigned to the community, always fighting for one extreme but slipping back toward the other because try as she might it is hard to escape a name. it’s hard to pretend a name isn’t who you are.
just you know. that kind of thing