what-a-weird-rose

[what-a-weird-rose]

GAY

some fun inspos from pinterest

[what-a-weird-rose]

plopping Steph in the Tim Robin suit

[what-a-weird-rose]

Parental permission

[what-a-weird-rose]

MY SHAYLAS

[what-a-weird-rose]

the moon will shine on us all equally now, moony

anything for our moony

[what-a-weird-rose]

I FORGOT TO PUT THE FINAL RESULT ON HERE OMG 😭😭

But yeah, um, have Black Brothers fluff now 😔…

[what-a-weird-rose]

The real tragedy isn’t that the Marauders died young. It’s that they were so damn full of life and love, and the world couldn’t handle it.

[what-a-weird-rose]

Art inspired by one of my fav timkon fics "buy back the secrets" by @vinelark ✨

The fanart is not exactly accurate to the fic but i loved the concept and everything about it so much it made me wanna draw this😭💕

A silly little extra doodle too:

[what-a-weird-rose]

Dear Supporter,

I hope this message finds you and your family in good health. My name is Eman Zaqout from Gaza. I am reaching you out to seek your urgent help in spreading the word about our fundraiser. I lost both my home and my job due to the ongoing genocide in Gaza and we are facing catastrophic living conditions. 💔

I kindly ask you to visit my campaign. Your support, whether through donating or sharing, will help us reach more people who can make a difference. Thank you for your continued support for the Palestinian cause. Your dedication brings us closer to freedom. 🙏🕊

Note: Verified by several people as 90-ghost and aces-and-angels. ☑

https://gofund.me/b141d50f 🔗

!!!!

[what-a-weird-rose]

November 3, 1981

Happy birthday, Sirius Black!

[cw: a bit of swearing, implied wolfstar, oct. 31, 1981 angst]

The moon hung fat in the sky, glowering over the world in infinite glory. Sirius could see how it curled around the angry clouds high above Azkaban. The sky was always angry looking, and he had decided one day, not long after getting here. A breeze passes through the cell, carrying the drunken smell of rot and death. He squints at the sky, some tiny part of him hoping that the moon might come down, places a soft kiss on his skin, and brings him home and back to James. 

Sirius licks his lips and tastes how the skin has cracked without water. The act does nothing; his mouth is even drier if one could believe it, but the feeling of the act grounds him. The feeling, as strange as it seems in this hellscape, of dragging his tongue along the cracks of his lips brings him back to his center.

The moon does not come down to deliver him to James. Instead, it continues to be full and happy in the dark, cloudy sky. Sirius wishes he could be full; even without the happiness, fullness would be enough.

He can hear Bellatrix down the long, seemingly ceaseless halls, the way she screeches, sings, and cackles at his dementor-induced screams.

Sirius breathes, forcing her out of his mind as though her legilimency could reach into his mind, tear through the hundreds of cells between them, and tangle through his memories like Mother had so often done in his youth. Her choking screeches become distant– as though her cell has begun freefalling through to the bottom of Azkaban– the idea brings a small, reserved smile to his face. 

He smells the dementors as they turn to lord over him, and he instinctively screeches—the memories of his family flooding into his mind’s eye are more than enough to drown out any and all joy that remained from the moment.

The floating creatures are gone faster than they had arrived, gliding away gracefully toward their next victim. Sirius doesn’t feel bad for the soul they try for next; he tells himself that they deserve it—he whispers it aloud in the cold confines of his cell. Azkaban is for criminals, he thinks, when the moon is covered by thick, slightly less-gray-than-usual clouds.

“Azkaban is for the worst of the worst,” he says quietly as the moon slowly reemerges, beautiful and blinding to his overly sensitive eyes.

He crouches and feels the way Padfoot’s fur overtakes Sirius’ skin. He revels in how Padfoot moves– the instinctive agility topped with reflects Sirius’ human body could never achieve. Padfoot was synonymous with freedom– as silly as it felt to be free in prison, the idea of never becoming Padfoot again was horrifying; the thought brought with it an intense sickness that caused severe remembrance of eyeing James’ corpse for the first time on the thirty-first of October, 11:17 P.M. 

Padfoot twitches. An insatiable itch erupts along his back and haunches that, no matter how aggressively he rolls and shakes, he cannot satisfy. The moonlight slowly consumes his cell, casting grand, white light over the crackling, ugly black stone. 

Despite the persistent itch, he retreats and rescinds himself to the shadow of the back wall below the barred window. 

He can hear it distantly– the distinct, guttural sound of Moony’s howl– the anger, resentment, sorrow, and anticipation that meld into one another to become the eye-splitting, blood-curdling howl that haunts him. Padfoot’s blood freezes, as it always has at the sound of a creature so far removed from the natural world that the idea of investigating -of interacting with it- made him shake. He reverts to Sirius and tries to suppress the memories of Remus’ screaming, which preceded the howling. 

He finds his fingers coiled tightly by his hair when he wakes later. The moon is out of sight, likely sitting high and mighty above the horrendously massive prison like some demented warden of tortured souls.

Somewhere far away, Sirius can hear one of the Lestranges yelling at his brother and the other Lestrange yelling back. He distantly thinks he can relate to it, but the reason behind the connection is lost. 

James is with him today; he thinks it was sometime after the yelling had ceased. He stands tall and proud in the corner furthest from the window–and from Sirius. The residual moonlight highlights James in a way reminiscent of something holy. 

“What are you doing, Sirius?” James asks, not accusatory but more distant. As though he has a checklist of questions to ask, and he simply wants to complete it as quickly as possible. 

“Sitting.” Sirius mumbles, looking at anything in the tiny cell but James. 

Something about this James makes him feel sickly– the way his eyes pierce with a ring of emerald laced around his irises like one of Mother’s doilies. 

“Why are you being so difficult?” James asks, but his voice has shifted from soft and uninterested to sharp and overbearing. “Why do you refuse to be helped?” James asks in Mother’s sharp, keen voice.

“’m s’rry,” Sirius says, quieter than before, and he vaguely remembers being small and young once.

“You should be,” Lily sneers, though her eyes don’t quite reach him. Her voice is James’, deep and rumbly, as though she had just woken up and had rolled out of bed to scold him. “Why are you here, Sirius?” She asks him, though James’s voice is gone and replaced with Lily’s. 

I don’t remember; he tries, but his voice fails him. Lily looks down at him and squints, looking vaguely toward his tattoos.

I did something awful. He tries again, but this time, his throat closes tightly, leaving him with a hoarse gurgling sound.

“Don’t lie to me,” James says. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, and his eyes look over Sirius suspiciously before roaming up toward the window.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says again, though James looks unimpressed.

“Do you know why Remus isn’t here, Sirius?” Sirius’ head begins to feel heavy, thick, and floaty with nausea. “I’ll tell you, hmm? It’s because he couldn’t stand it. No, he couldn’t,” James says, though his voice is thick as though his mouth is full of peanut butter. “He couldn’t stand to be lied to by you. You fucked with him before, you remember that?” James laughs loudly, and for a moment, Sirius worries the dementors will come for him next. “Remus could get you out of here, he could– but why would he when all you’ve ever done is fuck with him?”

Sirius nods. The words don’t quite sink in, but the feeling behind them sits on his skin and bites.

“I’m sorry, Prongs.”

“Don’t call me that.” James says quickly. “It’s your fault I’m here, you know– your fault you’re here, too.” 

Sirius rolls over, watching his hair fall limply in front of his eyes like a curtain calling for the close of a show. 

“I didn’t do it.” Sirius whimpers and doesn’t know whether he wants James to hear him.

“No, you’re right, Sirius.” James whispers from somewhere close to his head. “But you could have stopped it. You could have plead your case. You could have stayed with Harry. You could have seen through Peter. You could have known Remus would never betray us. So maybe,” James says quietly, oh-so-close to his ear, “you did kill us, Sirius. You killed me and my wife, and for that, I hope you rot.”

[what-a-weird-rose]

whimsigoth lily and her himbo old money husband james 🌚💗

[what-a-weird-rose]

When Marlene found out that the marauders called Sirius Pads, she definitely called him tampon to piss him off.

[what-a-weird-rose]

AU where Dad James Potter has a crush on baker Regulus Black:

James and five-year-old Harry: *enter bakery*

James, to Harry: Go on, buddy, tell the nice baker what you want.

Harry: *shyly walks up to Regulus*

Regulus: What can I get you, cupcake?

Harry: *giggles* I’m not a cupcake!

Regulus, with a wide grin: Oh! I’m so sorry, you’re so sweet, I mistook you for one!

Harry, pointing to James: My dad thinks you’re sweet, too!

*James and Regulus freeze and just stare at each other*

Harry, continuing his yapping: He talks about you all the time. He thinks you’re really pretty and that you have a nice a-

James: *grabs a random cupcake and slaps a 50 on the table before grabbing Harry and fleeing the bakery*

[what-a-weird-rose]

its the detailed characterization under 500 words for me

Wolfstar Micro Fic - @wolfstarmicrofic prompt: Witch - 443 words

“Are you a witch?” Teddy asks the person behind the till. It’s the first time his Dad has taken him into this shop and it looks like the type of shop a witch would own. Full of candles and glittering gemstones that decorate the walls and dangle from the ceiling. Shelves stacked with small glass bottles of essential oils that look like potion ingredients. 

The person smiles at him, lets out a small laugh. “I’m not, but thank you.” 

Teddy scowls up at them. They look like a witch. Long dark hair, black jacket, tattoos, and smudged makeup around their eyes that looks like smoke. “I don’t believe you.” 

His dad takes him to the shop once a week, every Friday on the way home from school. The more Teddy visits the shop, the more he decides that even if Sirius is a witch, he’s a good witch. He lets Teddy call him Sirius and not ‘Mr Black’ like all his teachers do, and he keeps a bowl of sweets by the till and sneaks Teddy an extra one when his Dad isn’t looking. Teddy’s checked all his storybooks and Sirius is too nice to be an evil witch.

He thinks his Dad likes Sirius as well. He smiles a lot more when they visit Sirius’ shop, not like when they have to go to the post office and Mrs Harris scowls them the whole time and tells Teddy off for running (which he only did once) and sometimes his Dad calls her words under his breath that Teddy isn’t allowed to repeat. 

Sirius and his Dad talk a lot as well. They stand at the till and talk and talk and talk. Teddy listens in sometimes but it’s never anything interesting, just boring adult stuff. Teddy is perfectly happy to leave them be as he explores the shop, smelling all the incense and playing with the shiny rocks. 

It takes a little while for Teddy to figure out what sort of witch power Sirius has, but one day it hits him. His dad had been grumpy all day. The hot water wasn’t working this morning and he broke his favourite mug and after school a car drove by too fast and splashed them with a puddle. 

But when Teddy looks at them through a crystal ball Sirius has on display, Teddy notices in the distorted image that this is the first time he’s seen his Dad smile all day.

He watches his Dad laugh at one of Sirius’ jokes and wonders if he’s figured it out as well.

It’s happy magic. Sirius makes everyone happy.

[what-a-weird-rose]

Finally figuring out how to use tumblr lol. My marauders drawing of remus lupin sirius black James potter and lily Evans ♥️

[what-a-weird-rose]

"wolfstar is canon" I say into the microphone. the crowd boos. I sigh and begin to walk off stage. "she's right" a voice says, I turn and there he is. David Thewlis.

[what-a-weird-rose]

Wolfstar ❤️