Flames.

For we were meant to burn.

[internationalteaparty]

Reblog if you are a fan of Thalia and/or ship Thaluke.

[heisdeadandsheisimmortal]

the greatest problem in the thaluke fandom is who would be in slytherin and who would be in gryffindor

[flamesoffandom-blog]

Please. Stop. 

[space-gay-yay-deactivated201711]

So Thalia got turned into a tree in 2000ish right?

The American Idiot album came out in 2004.

She would have woken up to one of Green Day’s best albums.

Just picture her all alone in the Zeus cabin rocking out to Whatshername, American Idiot, Holiday/Boulevard of Broken Dreams and all the others.

Imagine her singing Jesus of Suburbia word for word the second time she hears it cause she’s just that awesome.

But don’t imagine her hearing Wake Me Up When September Ends and thinking of Luke and how he’s a traitor.

[flamesoffandom-blog]

How can you possibly do that. Who gave you the right. 

[flamesoffandom-blog]

Frank: We shouldn’t have come. I knew it. We shouldn’t have come.

Percy: We had to. There’s safety in numbers.

Frank: Well, there’s also death in numbers, Percy– it’s called a massacre.

[animaegus]

once the veil began to envelop sirius, he no longer saw the mortal world. but rather the world he was entering: the afterlife.

you just know

that after fourteen long years, sirius finally saw james again. 

[animaegus]

in all honesty, i never meant for this post to be a sad one. i mean, there was no one in the world that sirius loved more than james.

the reason i made this post was because i noticed the beginnings of a smile on sirius’ face as he began to be enveloped by the veil. he was smiling. despite the fact that he had died and left harry behind, i believed that he was happy.

it had been fourteen years, at least 4,231 days of those days were in azkaban. and after he escaped, he was on the run and cooped up in his childhood home. a place that he absolutely hated. you better believe that he thought of james every single day. thought of his face, his odd habits, his laugh, the way he cried when he saw lily at the end of aisle on his wedding day. anything that he could remember.

in a desperate attempt to avoid forgetting, he’d run through all the details that he could remember. and then sometime during his third year in that cell, he struggled to remember the sound of his best friend’s voice. the pain that caused him was greater than anything the dementors could ever cause him.

imagine: a bright corridor of doors in the afterlife. each one belonging to a person that is alive. when it comes time for yours to open and you get to walk into the next life, one person already there gets to greet you. imagine sirius’ door opening and james is standing right there in front of him.

“hey, padfoot.”

just imagine that in the place that harry once stood, he saw a man who was nearly identical, just slightly taller with hazel eyes and no scar gracing his forehead. it took him a second to realize that it was a different person, he didn’t quite believe it was really james. and then it dawned on him.

sirius inhaled a sharp breath, because after fourteen years, he was finally hearing james’ voice again. he was finally remembering what it sounded like.

after fourteen long years, sirius was reunited with his best friend. his brother. it was the moment that he had dreamed of over and over again. when sirius exhaled that breath, he smiled because he knew that they’d never be separated again. and that was all sirius could ever ask for.

[incorrectmarauderquotes]

You know what’s funny about Sirius? He’s my best friend. And anyone who hurt him is someone I would probably murder.

James Potter (via incorrectmarauderquotes)

[tiepoloblues]

I’m physically, mentally and emotional wiped out and I need to be cuddled and have my hair played with and complimented every 20 seconds but I also need to be left the fuck alone for 6 to 8 days, minimum 

do you see my problem?

[run-foryour-dreams-deactivated2]

me af

[flamesoffandom-blog]

Yep.

[clairelizabethfraser]

greek gods

[flamesoffandom-blog]

Magical!!

[flamesoffandom-blog]

The Horse’s Tale.

“Don’t go close to him.” They’ll all tell you. Listen to them. They speak from the little experience they have. But as you maintain the distance and wonder how he’s so noticeable even though he’s so quiet; look in his eyes. Do you see what I see? Do you see the experience, the bitterness, the acceptance?

Do you see the humbleness, the courage and the compassion in his eyes. Do you read it in his smile? A boy so young; do you ever wonder how he’s seen so much? I’ll tell you how.

Because he could. Because he could, life hurdled challenges in his way. He tried and tried and tried. Never would you hear a complaint from anyone around him. He’s as silent and as loud as he needs to be.

He has been perfect. He was the perfect son, the perfect brother, the perfect friend, the perfect boyfriend. Then what could possibly go wrong?

He went wrong. He just got tired of it. Of leaping ahead, jumping over the hurdles life posed at him, running away from misery. So he stopped. And there was your perfect man: grieved. Almost instantly, people noticed that their favorite horse had stopped running. But he was tried of being the bet.

The problem? He didn’t want to rebel. He just didn’t have the motive to be one. He didn’t want anything. No amount of thrashing, bribing or starving could make the horse run again, because the horse saw no point.

Then the makers of the racetrack realized it: they had set too many hurdles on this particular one. Life bent on its knees, begging him to run. It just wasn’t about the gamblers’ money anymore. It was about their sentiment.

Because he was the perfect friend, his friends felt miserable. But he did nothing. For him, it didn’t simply matter anymore.

So it is true, don’t go close to him. He won’t kick you, but he won’t entertain you either. And if you spend enough time with him, he might enlighten you in his ways. Enlighten you; as to how futile everything you have ever done has been. And you will lose yourself. The way he did.

His eyes don’t reflect the hail and hearty horse he once was. They reflect the powerless mule he has become.

[flamesoffandom-blog]

Burn: A Journey To A Powerful Emotion.

Flames erupt from all sides, engulfing everything we own. Everything we own, everything we ever had. Flames, so inevitable they can hardly be resisted. And all we can do is curse, wondering how things would have been if we had never lit that cigarette.

But we all do, don’t we? I feel the burns on my body as I see someone else raise their hand, knowing something I don’t. I loathe myself for that. Maybe you feel your burns when someone’s check has more digits than yours does.

I want to tell you… And everyone else that I love them no matter what. It doesn’t matter if people say that she looks pretty or not. For me, she’s the most beautiful thing that ever walked on this planet.

But you won’t understand, nor would they. Not would I if someone said this to me. Because when someone raises their hand, it doesn’t matter to me anymore.

These burns aren’t about reassurance, they are about competition. A race we run, not for the people who were love, but for our ego. So as the fire reaches my eyes, I resist the urge to justify why they’re better than me.

I tell myself over and over again that it’s not worth the burns, not worth the fire. It takes time, but I soon see the flames receding. I come up to you, give you a kiss on the cheek. Probably say “You know, I’m richer than you are. I have the best man on the planet.” The flames recede further.

And finally, together, we burn no more.

[flamesoffandom-blog]

Hello out there!

I’m new here!