Whats the mood for the day?
Concerned best friends who I literally would not function without them in my life đ @snufflesmajor @chaser-not-a-seeker
seen from Indonesia
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from Singapore
seen from Sri Lanka

seen from Georgia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Hong Kong SAR China

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Mexico
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Hong Kong SAR China

seen from Australia

seen from France
seen from China
Whats the mood for the day?
Concerned best friends who I literally would not function without them in my life đ @snufflesmajor @chaser-not-a-seeker

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
( @snufflesmajor continued from x )
àŒșđàŒ» Work-worn fingers carted through the otherâs damp hair, dragging up great wefts of it from root to tip, measuring meticulously before a soft snip of scissors sent curls drifting to the floor. He repeated time and time again, combing, measuring, cutting, waiting for the memories locked away inside his flesh to trigger â to run his hands through those tresses and have them end precisely when they ought to, and not a moment sooner or later.
 The rain came down in great sheets outside the small cottage, dribbling in from a hole in the roof with melodic drips and splish-splashes, caught by a rusty old pan sitting on the floor that might have held a meager porridge before being quickly repurposed. The evening had been quiet, pregnant with all the things left unsaid begging to be let free, but remaining firmly bottlenecked in their throats until the inevitable mass exodus.Â
 Remus had seen the look on Siriusâ face when heâd crossed the threshold into the derelict housing the younger male had been relegated to in absence of friends and supporters, that bitter disbelief over what had become of them â once a family as close and well-provided for as one could hope, now barely more than the ghost of rotting ideals eroded by harsh reality. Sirius had finally given voice to that sentiment, that this wasnât what was meant for them, the way things should be, and Remus found himself admonishing him before heâd even realized the words coming out of his mouth.
 When had he learned to just roll over and accept the consequences of life? Somewhere around the time heâd lost all semblance of control over it, he supposed.
                           James.Â
 Sirius didnât have to finish. James was the missing link, the elephant in the room, the semicolon to every sentence they spoke â all the parts of themselves that felt like they were missing, and the parts they desperately sought after to fill the painful void Peter had left inside them in addition. It was clear that even after all this time he was so desperately missed that they sought him in one another, if even in the smallest ways, grasping at threads of his memory like hairs left behind on sweaters.Â
 It was true â when James had died, Remus found himself struggling to hold on to his influence or risk free-falling into nothingness. Free-falling into a world that would have him believe that Sirius Black could assist in the murder of two of the most important people in their lives, along with countless others. He didnât want to believe, refused to take things at true face-value, begging for Jamesâ guidance even from beyond the grave: âwhat would you do? Who would you believe?â Heâd had James in his head for so long it was no wonder he was beginning to sound like him. Perhaps the sole reason heâd been able to accept Siriusâ innocence without question; heâd know it deep down all along.
 But when Sirius amended his statement Remus chuckled breathily, shaking his head and snipping a few more inches from the weft between his fingers.
 âWhen the magic wore off,â he stated simply as if the answer had been an obvious one. âWhen you left, when James and Lily died â Peter as well, weâd thoughtâ time resumed.â It had been the lowest point in his life, if he was being honest. Lower even than losing his mother, because even then heâd had the Marauderâs to turn to in his grief.Â
 âWhat was there left but to face the time remaining head on? To go from feeling like there would never be enough of it to feeling like it would never end â that kind of stretch wears on a man,â he paused, realizing he was preaching to the choir in that respect. âIâm sure you understand,â he added quietly, quickly purposing himself to the task at hand to keep his mind and body busy. àŒșđàŒ»
when will tumblr user humanbludgers return from the war. no one knows but their memory lives on
[jokeâs on you, youâll never get rid of me]
@snufflesmajor a minimalist Sirius Black aesthetic?
snufflesmajor replied to your post â//Â But does anyone else ever think of Snapeâs, âyouâve been raising...â
it's honestly a pity things were so...... strained.... between remus and snape bc i would kill for them having a bitchy convo about this over tea
//Â I feel exactly the same way. This is an AU that I need.
@snufflesmajor

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
hc + james' thoughts when lily first told him about vernon (an's petunia)
meme . hc
   honestly i think it wouldnât really have mattered what lily would have told him. what really hit him was actually meeting them. since hearing about it wasnât the same. it was different hearing an hatred being exactly like of muggles in the wizarding community. he actually found it extremely ironic to the point it was kinda funny to him.
      although in the back of his mind, james also found a part within himself which he was deeply ashamed. meeting them he understood his own kind more. he understood why the wizaridng world didnât like muggles. it reminded him of the of tens thousand of people who had been burn at the stakes....even those who hadnât been wizard/witches.
        yet he laughed a lot at the comments Vernon threw at him. but it never reached his eyes that whole night.
james: *eats the last chocolate frog in their stash* sirius, the patron saint of drama: I canât believe Iâve seen the day my brother betrayed me. That I have been betrayed thusly. Painfully and irrevocably.Â
@snufflesmajor is really in trouble this time | x
   Oh, he was dead. Sirius Black was, without a doubt, one-hundred percent dead.
   The last thing Doe remembered before the thought of Siriusâ demise chorused through her mind was cheerfully opening her history book at one of the tables in the library. She had gone there to find herself a little peace and quiet, away from all the childish noise and stupid little games that seemed to ever plague the common room. Exams werenât that far off and if she was going to do well on them, she needed to brush up in her less than stellar subjects, which was impossible when James Potter and his friends (mostly Sirius--ninety-two percent Sirius) wouldnât stop bothering everyone who would listen. Â
  That was when everything went wrong.   A round of snickers and giggles rose up from somewhere behind her, drawing her attention before she even focus on the first few sentences. Probably a bunch of first years looking up naughty words or something, she thought. There were a lot of old books with a lot of ridiculous things inside that tickled first years for some reason. Seventh years, oddly, as well. But that didnât matter; she had to focus, and if she was going to focus she needed--
  --âSilence. Stifling, suffocating, but not everlasting. The racing of my heart breaks through, shattering the stillness--â
   Thump!
   Several students paused in what they were doing, glancing up abruptly as Dorcas slammed her book shut with all the strength she seemed to possess. Madam Pince swept down from wherever she had perched herself, but Doe barely heard a word she had to say, too focused was she on seeking out the culprit who dared read aloud something so private. Â
   Five minutes was all it took. The fourth year Gryffindor who had found the poem had been all too eager to give up his source, claiming that Sirius Black had been the one reading the bit of parchment to begin with. And if Black had been reading it, Dorcas really couldnât get angry at any one else; even if they had chosen to perform a terribly dramatic reading for all of their closest friends. Fortunately, Doe was too focused on attacking the root of the problem to care about her underclassmensâ misdeeds and stormed out of the library, poem clutched desperately in one hand, and her wand in the other.
   When the haze cleared once again, Dorcas found herself standing in front of a stunned Sirius, her hands absolutely shaking with rage and humiliation. Some part of her was amazed he was even standing, but she realized quickly enough she had only cast the first spell that came to mind. Black was lucky he still had his hair, but the night was still young. She might end up feeling a bit...creative.
   âMy diary?!â she shouted, holding up the crumpled parchment so that Sirius could see it.  âIs that what youâre doing now. stealing peoplesâ private property? I suppose you had a great laugh over it all, didnât you?!â