nice one, james

if there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes. i know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight

[graveravens]

WILLY CARTIER BY FRANCK GLENISSON

[cartierwilly]

Levi’s

[codenameromulus-archive-blog]

Get Back (to where you once belonged)

[codenameromulus-archive-blog]

“Books have, in fact, found their way into my pillowcase,” through no fault of his own. “They migrate, I’m sure. I fall asleep doing homework at the table once and next thing you know: books in the bedcovers.” He’d have suspected the others of putting them there (and knew for a fact they had, more than once) but it had begun happening at home, too. He shook his head. “Disgraceful. As for your sniffing and James’ chewing habits, those I can safely say I could live without. Besides, mum would have a heart attack if she came in and found a stag and a large dog in my room.” His mouth twitched up into an ironic smile. “You know she has rules about animals in the house.” 

Then again, there weren’t any rules about the garden shed.

“Serves her right,” said Remus with an imperious nod. He prided himself on being respectful, but as far as he was concerned, any misfortune that befell Walburga Black was a blessing in disguise. He took a moment of perverse joy in imagining the harpy-tongued head of the Black family scrabbling at the walls with her hands like a parody of some Shakespearean King’s wife, “Out, out, damned spot!” He threw back his head and laughed.

And then, the race.

Platform 9¾ hit Remus like a balloon bursting; the rush and clatter of his trolley’s wheels on the pavement followed by the strange wind-tunnel absence of noise as they passed through the magic barrier and came, hurtling, out the other side.  Sirius, having jumped the gun, was ahead of him and Remus, light-hearted and lightheaded, drunk on momentum, almost crashed headlong into him. 

“Merlin, you arse!” shouted Remus, alternating between gasping for breath and laughter. Nyctimene screeched a sour warning from the ruffled state of her cage and ducked her beak under a wing to preen at flyaway feathers. “You cheated!” The accusation held little sting (five years of extended exposure had taught Remus to expect nothing different), but being a Marauder himself, he was galled less by the fact that Sirius had taken off before the mark and more that he had done so before Remus got the chance himself. 

Taking a moment to catch his breath and knock his trolley against the tremulous stack at Sirius’s feet, Remus couldn’t help glancing around for the rest of their missing duo. Witches and wizards of every age, and some parents to see them off, wandered about the platform in varying states of dress and distress, but there was no sign of Peter or the Potter clan. 

“It’s getting late. Think we should try the train?” Though Remus was eager to depart for his home away from home, it was odd to think of boarding the Hogwarts Express without first running into Mr and Mrs Potter. His eyes cut to Sirius and away. “What’d you think, Padfoot?” 

[canisblck-blog]

There’s a laugh that’s aching to start in his chest and burst it’s way outwards. “Careful there, Mister Moony,” he says, looking between the shrieking owl and Remus’ shirt, “or you’ll have a crooked tie.”

He sticks out his tongue. There’s something very funny about Moony and a crooked tie, he thinks - like seeing a blue apple. It’s just not right. It’s absurd. Like Dumbledore without a beard. 

“Five years,” he says, a touch breathless, more from adrenaline than exertion. “going on six. That’s how long you’ve known me. If you’d wanted to beat me, Remus, you’d have to try a little harder. It’s only cheating if the rules were clearly stated beforehand. I might’ve just thought you were counting for the fun of it.” 

Sirius glances towards the train, squinting a little as his eyes dart window to window, trying to find their usual compartment from the outside. 

“If we don’t, we might as well find out they’re on it and laughing at us from there. They might be laughing at us right now. Peter’s probably rolling. Look at them, they’re going to miss the train.” He does a bad imitation of Peter on that last sentence. 

Plenty of familiar faces stare back out, noses pressed towards the window. Some of those faces he recognizes from pureblood families, familiar from dinner parties or family gatherings. Others are victims of some of their more brilliant pranks. 

“I don’t know about you, but I’d like to avoid running into any of my family.” 

He can deal with them alright himself; after all, he’s been doing it for years. Truly, if they caught sight of him right now, they’d probably turn their noses away. And he wouldn’t mind, not really. Better than talking to them, which is what he’s had to do all summer. It’s a skill. A talent. 

But he wouldn’t like them to run into Remus. 

It’s not like they’d know about him, but if any of them made a comment about the scars, or his blood status, he just might have to stop himself from attacking his mother and father in public. 

Not ideal. 

“So let’s hurry then, hey? Wouldn’t want to miss everything good on the trolley, either. I also have plans to lock you into the compartment so you miss your prefects meeting and can spend the whole brilliant time with your favorite people, so I’d like to get started on that.” 

[canisblck-blog]

"I can't believe you dragged me into this."

“Yes, you can. It was a matter of time, Remus.” 

He flashes a bright white grin that stretches and puts a wrinkle on the bridge of his nose. The grin is quick and smooth and not at all practiced; he slings an arm over Remus’ shoulder. There’s a large bag in the other hand and it quite resembles a muggle woman’s pocketbook. Technically, it is a woman’s pocketbook. He bought it while staying with James for a week last summer. It was that or another poster, whichever might annoy his mother most. 

There’s likely something disastrous in that bag. 

“Studying is for men who aren’t Marauders. And what are we?” 

It’s a bright and sunny day, and they are most definitely Marauders. 

[canisblck-blog]

I’d love to get started writing some things with you guys. 

[canisblck-blog]

Next To Normal Ask Meme: Send Me One To See How My Muse Will React

“It's 4 in the morning, is everything ok?”

“Some days I think I'm dying, but I'm really only trying to get through.”

“I think the house is spinning.”

“So, we'll try again and eventually we'll get it right.”

“Not a very exact science, is it?”

“I'm trying to tell you I love you.”

“I can be perfect for you.”

“I miss the pain.”

“Nothing's real.”

“I didn't know you had a brother.”

“He's been dead 16 years.”

“This is fucked.”

“I know you're hurting. I am, too.”

“Can you tell me what it is you're afraid of?”

“Can I touch you?”

“Are you wanting all that she can't give?”

“I am the one who won't walk away.”

“I wish I could fly, I'd fly far away from here.”

“I love you as much as I can.”

“I'm your worst fear, you'll find it in me.”

“I need you to need me.”

“It's not going to get better, is it?”

“Are you nervous?”

“What's your story?”

“Did you see my parents out there?”

“How could she leave me on my own?”

“Why didn't you take me with you?”

“You're kidding, right? That's bullshit.”

“What makes you think I'd lose my mind for you?”

“Tell me why I wait through the night.”

“I can't get through this alone.”

“Am I feeling what I think I'm feeling?”

“I'm good as gone.”

“You don't remember any of this?”

“I thought you might call.”

“Don't say that we're over.”

“I couldn't give a flying fuck what's normal.”

“Your life has kind of sucked, I think.”

“Won't anything be better than before?”

“Your son is gone forever though.”

“There's something missing.”

“Let me know you again.”

“Why do I get denied?”

“Where'd you get that?”

“How could I ever forget?”

Why would you want to remember the things that hurt you?”

“Please, tell me his name.”

“Why stay?”

“Something next to normal would be okay.”

“You look like a star.”

“Can you leave it behind?”

“I might end up crazy.”

“So anyway I'm leaving.”

“It's time for me to go.”

“I am the one who saved you.”

“I know you know who I am.”

“We need some light.”

“It's the price we pay to feel.”

[canisblck-blog]

Danger inspired sentense memes:

"Only one of us is going to come out of this."

"What's wrong? Did you get hit?"

"Are they still after us?!"

"He/She won't get away with this."

"Pull the trigger already!"

"Don't pull the trigger!"

"Stay quiet and try not to be seen."

"You're going down."

"When are they going to make their move? The suspense is killing me."

"How do you intend to fight me when you don't know where I am?"

"Let him/her go!"

"You're under arrest."

"So what's your plan, genius?"

"Stay back or I'll ____ the _____!"

"Say goodbye to ____, you won't be seeing _____ again."

"This is all your fault!"

"I can't believe you dragged me into this."

"Let us go!"

"I'm not letting you out of here."

"You'll never take me alive!"

[manliestelf]

Send "Little thing" and my character will tell you something as a child.

[ophie-beaux]

“Do I appear to look as if I am in the state of wanting to choose which certain pastry I would like to devour in this very morni—Blueberry pie please, thank you.”

[flowerytwats]

salazcr replied to your post “who is that in your icon?”

im cryING wheres that from??

it was posted on instagram by someone who went to india with him and is even more ridiculous in full size: 

[codenameromulus-archive-blog]

Get Back (to where you once belonged)

[codenameromulus-archive-blog]

“Yes, how astute of you, that’s exactly what I meant,” said Remus. “If only you exchanged your meaning for its exact opposite, you’d be one step closer to discovering the truth.” The truth was, he hated flying. Always had, ever since that debacle in first year where his school broom refused to listen to him so spectacularly that the end result was almost extraordinarily unbelievable to those who hadn’t been present at the time. He still got goosebumps when he thought about it.

No, he was much happier keeping his feet firmly on the ground. Leave the brooms and enchanted motorbikes to other wizards.

“'Handsome’, am I?” Remus laughed at the picture Sirius painted of them, knocking their shoulders companionably. “I was thinking more along the lines of keeping out of sight when making a run for the wall but if you insist..”

The walk the rest of the way to the platform was brisk despite the jarring stops and starts requisite in ceding to foot traffic. Remus glanced around them as they went, keeping a mental tally of all the small and subtle signs of magic hidden among the mundane. A man with a receding hairline wearing a magenta tailcoat and carrying two briefcases –one for each hand – kept glancing conspicuously at the train stationed at platform nine, but turned his head whenever a witch or wizard with a trolley strolled by him.

“He’s subtle,” he murmured to Sirius, turning back to the conversation, and felt his face soften into a begrudging smile. It was an expression he wore more and more often these days, mostly in the company of his friends. “All right, it wasn’t all bad.” Despite the cold, and the wet, and Filch bellowing gleefully about the myriad ways he was planning to dissect them. His smile curled into something sharper, full of mischief and humor. “It was rather exhilarating, wasn’t it? Always worth it to get old Filch riled up.”

The truth was, there was something sublime about leaving the castle after curfew in the middle of winter, the four of them the only ones on the grounds, crunching their way through a thin crust of frost to the edge of the lake to find it reflecting a sky full of stars. They had been giddy with the high of their intended mission, huddled close beneath the cloak, a mixture of warm bodies and mingled breathing. The air had snapped them awake without the cloak to keep the heat trapped, and sent them scurrying like mice, their movements quick and jerky, stiff with sudden chill.

Not that the lake had been any better. Remus had been the second one in, his thinking muddled by his thoughts, all wound up in the way his breaths looked, puffed white against a black night, and the quiet magic of a moment shared by friends under a crescent moon in mid-December.

“Until the water closed over my head and my lungs felt like I was dying,” he added dryly. “But yes, overall, I suppose it wasn’t exactly a night wasted.” And then it was his turn to smile. “I missed you too, Padfoot. Summer’s rather dull without all your loud carousing. Can you imagine? I finished books! Whole volumes!” He twitched, echoing Sirius’s shudder, and pressed a hand to his forehead. “The horror!”

Your letters were nice, though.” Though he mocked, and though the silence and the chance for weeks on end of truly uninterrupted reading time was something like a dream, it was reassuring to know his friends missed him and thought of him when they weren’t together.

“On three,” Remus echoed and then bent over his cart for leverage. This was a race he wasn’t going to lose.

“One,” The coast was relatively clear. 

“Two…” 

He glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eye and smiled. “…three!”

[canisblck-blog]

“Oh, incredibly.” Though he’s jovial, there’s no mocking in the words. He knocks his shoulder back into Remus’.  “It’s a requirement for joining the Marauders.” When he grins, it turns his whole face bright and shining, like he’s trying to hide the sun. “You worry too much.” Alright, so the man’s glancing he could do without. It’s not like Sirius is a good authority on trying to blend in with muggles - this is one of the two days a year when he’s got to do it, thankfully. 

“It was magnificent. I thought Filch was going to die. I thought we were going to die.” Which was momentarily half the fun. For a second, when he and James had hit the water, it had been just as wonderful as they’d planned. Just as stupid and wonderful and rule-breaking - 

And then they’d been cursing and sputtering and, he thinks, breaking poor McG’s heart. 

“No night with the Marauders can be called a night wasted. No matter what.” 

It’s not only his heart that does a little flip, it’s his whole damn chest. Having someone miss you is a spectacular kind of thing. You want it to happen and at the same time, you wish you weren’t missing anyone at all. When he’d stepped onto the platform at eleven years old, he’d thought his time at Hogwarts would be filled with the same kind of people his life at home had been. People who thought they were noble, and who thought the same of him. 

It’s not been the same. It’s been the one place where everything is different. 

“Books are a poor substitute for us, Moony. Books don’t try to sniff your arse, or chew your bed curtains, or hide in your pillowcase.” All stunning examples of Marauder behavior. He lets out a gasp. "Utterly disgusting! It won’t be allowed again until Christmas, I promise.” Mirroring Remus and his dramatics, he presses a hand to his chest and then places it solemnly on Remus’ shoulder. “You needn’t worry. Fear no more! I’m going to save you.”  

He gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze, and nods as if thoughtful, as if he’s sorting out exactly how he’s going to save him from the Big Bad Horrible Books. As if he doesn’t know exactly how it’s going to be done. 

Massive amounts of trouble. That’s how. 

“All of my letters were true. You should have seen her face.” He’s loud and animated, tossing his hands up into the air and nearly taking out a confused looking muggle with the ugliest hat Sirius has ever seen. There’s a half mumbled word that’s not really an apology, but could be one, if someone squinted. “She’ll be trying to get the pictures of those muggle girls off the wall for years to come. It’s her fault, of course. Being good at permanent sticking charms runs in the family. Come to think of it, she might opt to just remove the walls.” 

A momentary but sour little grimace crosses his face. The expression flickers and turns back into a grin. No matter; if it comes to that, he’ll sleep outside, and then what would the neighbors say? 

The corners of his mouth twitch, eyes crinkling at the edges when he sees the way Moony is poised. This is going to be nothing less than a race. He twitches his fingers twice on the handle of the cart, like he was squeezing the handlebar of a motorbike. 

And takes off a split second before one, without looking behind him, taking the wall at full speed and near tumbling out at the other end, pulling his cart short so he doesn’t run over a bunch of second years. 

[puvies-blog]

[puvies-blog]

[puvies-blog]

[puvies-blog]

[fabulouswillycartier]

Springsioux – Damien Keyser, Jannah Roy & Willy Cartier

[flowerytwats]

Luke Newberry for Another Man Issue 21 A/W15

“I like playing complex characters… they allow you to show aspects of your own personality that would never otherwise come out.”