”why Is Everything Political”

bitches be like (im bitches)

Am not

I get a nice 7 hours

6 at this point

I only wake up at 5 am

I do not drink caffeine

I run on pure anxiety and dream

Huh, maybe I am sleep deprived

Oui

IMM SCREAMING!!!! I JUST SAW THAT IM MOOTS WITH @justwater4meeeeeeeee ON TIKTOK!!!!

LIKE!?!?! WATER IS SUCH AN INSPIRATION!!!

im dying i saw this on Pinterest it’s offficaly famous

WHY DO PEOPLE CALL IT FUCK, MARRY, KILL WHEN THEY COULD CALL IT BED, WED, BEHEAD

Sirius: Next person to say “weird flex but okay” is getting thrown of the astronomy tower.

Regulus: Preposterous boast but alas.

you dislike Luke Castellan because he disagreed with an oppressive government system and actually took action to change the abusive ways him and his peers have been forced to follow for millennia.

I dislike Luke Castellan because in the Titans Curse he manipulated Annabeth, who he raised as his little sister, into holding up the sky, the FUCKING sky, for over 20 hours and had the audacity to walk away as though he was completely apathetic towards it while she begged and pleaded with him to help her.

we are not the same.

boop

reblog this if you're okay with booping spams please !!

Sister - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 526 - Starchaser + Sirius

TW: Walburga's A+ Parenting, TW: Misgendering

James had spent summers at the Potter house, in the raucous warmth of his parents’ love, in a place where laughter carried through the walls and arguments ended in ruffled hair and biscuits shoved into hands. This summer, though, he was spending it at the Black household.

It was Sirius’ idea, because of course it was. Sirius had announced it over breakfast, a reckless glint in his eye, as if daring his mother to object. She had only hummed, seemingly uninterested, which made Sirius all the more suspicious. But when James arrived, he understood why she had allowed it.

She wanted an audience.

“Your sister has no manners, as always,” Walburga commented idly from her place at the head of the dining table, watching as Regulus—her son, her son—sat across from James, stabbing at his food with a fork gripped too tightly.

James felt his stomach turn. His gaze flicked to Sirius, who was gripping his knife as if debating throwing it across the table. Regulus didn’t even flinch. He was used to it, James realized, which made the whole thing worse.

“Regulus,” James said loudly, pointedly, as if to correct Walburga without outright challenging her. “Do you want to come flying with me later?”

Regulus lifted his gaze, something like appreciation flickering in his eyes before it was snuffed out by exhaustion. “Maybe,” he murmured, voice clipped, but James knew him well enough by now to recognize that it wasn’t directed at him.

Walburga didn’t even acknowledge the interaction. She continued as though James hadn’t spoken, turning instead to Sirius. “And you allow her to behave this way, indulging these childish delusions.”

James felt his grip tighten around his fork, but Sirius was faster, standing so abruptly his chair scraped against the floor with a violent screech. “He,” Sirius snarled, leaning over the table, eyes flashing dangerously. “You will address him properly, or you won’t address him at all.”

Regulus, still seated, closed his eyes briefly. He looked so tired. James wanted to reach for his hand, but he knew better than to make it worse by drawing more attention to him.

Walburga merely scoffed, dabbing at her lips with a napkin as if bored. “You always were so dramatic,” she mused. “No wonder you embarrass me.”

James stood then, matching Sirius’ stance, and while he didn’t glare like Sirius did, his voice was firm when he said, “Regulus is brilliant. If anyone should be embarrassed, Mrs. Black, it’s you.”

The air grew tense. For a moment, James swore Walburga would strike him down on the spot, but instead, she exhaled, as if disappointed, before rising from her seat.

“I expected nothing less from a Potter,” she murmured before sweeping out of the room. The silence she left behind felt suffocating.

Sirius collapsed back into his chair with a long sigh, dragging his hands down his face. “Well, that was fun.”

Regulus exhaled sharply, not quite a laugh but something close. When he finally met James’ gaze again, there was a quiet sort of gratitude in his eyes, even as he muttered, “You didn’t have to do that.”

James shrugged. “Yeah, I did.”

blood ritual — James and Lily Potter circa 1981