I Love That The Minute AO3 Goes Down Everyone Collectively Flocks To This Website To Ask The Same Question

Regulus is Killer Queen and James is Good Old-Fashion Lover Boy

Regulus who wears clothes that’s kinda baggy on him and then the second he lifts his shirt he’s got the sluttiest little waist

james potter canonically being a white man should be illegal, actually it is illegal. get the fuck away from me.

(i’m coping)

ABOUT AO3

LISTEN TO THIS

Regulus: Want to explain the text I received last night?

James: It was autocorrect.

Regulus: Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me"?

James: Yes.

I couldn't decide on books or music but yeah...

honey or maple syrup // embroidery or knitting // sheep or cows // meadows or prairies // streams or lakes // baking or cooking // blackberries or blueberries // raspberry preserves or strawberry jam // wildflowers or rose bushes // dusk or dawn // bees or butterflies // tea or hot cocoa (coffee) // sugar cubes or sugar bowls // pancakes or waffles // books or music // songbirds or rustling leaves // napping under trees or sleeping in a field // checkered or floral // drying flowers or pressing flowers

“you can’t not like snape but like regulus, evan, and barty”

actually i can do whatever the hell i want

Pt.2 of Horror Ads

pov: uh oh, you didn't do your Spanish lessons today

You're frantically searching for your phone. Oh no, oh no, this is bad, you say inwardly. You finally locate your phone on your bedroom nightstand. While you're pulling up the app, you hear a small object rolling in the hall. It's coming towards you. They are already coming for you. Silence sweeps over your house. You take one last look around your room, knowing this is the last time you will see it.

You slowly open your eyes. A bright, white light is nearly blinding you. You steadily start to realize what you have done. These are the consequences of your actions. Your eyes, having already scanned the room, see no possible escape route. Pulling and tugging on the ropes that bind you would be no use. There is no escaping what you have done. The room looks to be soundproof. The floor is a solid, gray concrete, accompanied by pastel amber walls. The aura around you reeks of exhaustion and defiance. Crimson blood, still wet and fresh, is splattered across one of the corners. The wooden door to your left is painted white. Some paint is chipped off, revealing a startlingly bright red. The red is a suspiciously similar shade to the splattered blood. The door slowly creaks open, but nothing moves towards you. Then it happens, a small, bright green bird shuffles forward, through the creaky door. Where you're from this bird is a symbol of life, death, and growth. You curse under your breath, you are truly doomed now. Any sliver of hope you had before, is burned and disintegrated. With your heartbeat bursting in your ears, you silently pray to the gods for forgiveness. This bird is an omen. A cursed omen. Stories of El Pájaro Verde were spread to your ears as a child. Your past self would never have thought you would find yourself in this situation.

The toxic green bird lunges at you. You brace yourself for impact, but the impact never comes. You look up to find the foul fowl looking directly into your eyes. It's only centimeters from your face. Those piercing, black eyes seem almost hypnotic. You can't look away, mesmerized. Suddenly, after what feels like hours of gazing into those captivating orbs, a loud slam comes from outside the room, breaking your eye contact. A tall man in a lab coat casually struts into the room. He looks extremely out of place in your surrounding environment. He is wearing a semi-casual, blue work shirt under his coat. Brown, rounded glasses frame his face. His dark brown hair is piled up on his head, giving him a little more height. He's about 6 foot, you would say. "Hello," he says. You notice he has a little name tag pinned onto his lab coat. "Luis von Ahn," it reads. Luis von Ahn, Luis von Ahn, Luis von Ahn, you repeat over and over again in your head. I've heard that name before, come on think. Only then does he seem to realize that your restraints prevent you from responding to him. He reaches over and gently rips the tape, which previously covered your mouth, off.

You immediately inhale a sharp breath, savoring the bitter taste of the air around you. The man in front of you, Luis, looks expectant, a hoarse "Hello," falls from your dry lips, in response. Soon after your response, a thought hits you like a freight train, Luis von Ahn, the owner of the company that's ruining my life, he probably owns me too. He grins, a smile so genuine, warm, it almost hides the psychotic intent behind this man. That grin is the last memory you have for a while.

One week later

You look around, not knowing who you are or how you got here. Your life has turned into a company scheme. Luis is your only friend in this bare corporate world. You're a tiny worker bee in a giant hive. You know you could be exterminated at the snap of his fingers. You often find yourself wondering what your life was like before they took you or what you did to get yourself here. You have many theories, but none of them seem likely. You will spend the rest of your pathetic little life buzzing away for the capitalist pigs that own your soul. Your forever has been stolen from you, there is no hope in getting it back.