Okay honestly I know Legends has been awesome in providing crack episodes to us but really they’re missing out on some great stuff:
It’s great and all that they’re traveling to different places but when are they gonna travel to ancient Greece? Or Rome???? GIVE IT TO ME.
Forget space pirates give me pirates pirates.
You KNOW there’d be a badass lady pirate and Sara def is into her.
Mick is probably made captain of a pirate ship somehow.
Seriously. I just - cannot believe that they put the historical periods into a montage (besides Camelot). Just give me ALL the historical periods and “Sometimes I Remember I’m A Historian” Nate going “mmm….not historically accurate.”
What’s that? Them going into space and fighting/being friends with aliens?
Ik we kind of went into it in Invasion but like, let’s make it more explicit this time.
LET JAX KISS A CUTE ALIEN 2K17.
@hedgiwithapen has de-aged headcanons like??? Imagine teen Martin comforting 3 year old Jax and then they merge by accident and now you have a 3 year old Firestorm lighting shit on fire while teenage Mick finds more stuff for them to blow up.
Good god I’d watch a WHOLE episode of toddlers running the Waverider and ykw?? It probably wouldn’t be that different.
POWERSWAP POWERSWAP POWERSWAP
Fine okay so this REALLY only works with Firestorm, Nate, and Amaya but it’d be fun, or if the team somehow found themselves with each other’s weapons I’d start laughing.
Amaya and Sara can now merge which is great.
Ray is left alone on the ship and is like “OH SWEET I GET TO BE CAPTAIN AGAIN”.
Jax has Mick’s heat gun and Mick has the steel powers and both are thriving.
Nate gets Amaya’s powers but for some reason can’t figure it out and ends up running away from danger half the time.
Stein grabs the atom suit and for all his knowledge can’t figure out how to use it, and ends up destroying it.
Mick laughs because he remembers Ray told him an idiot could use it.
Jax and Rip probably swap and they’re like “………….great”.
“If you damage my body I’m killing you Rip.” “No worries, Mr. Jackson.”
Nate and Ray swap but they’re pretty much the same person so does it even make a difference lmfao.
Somehow Stein/Amaya/Gideon all swap and now Gideon is in Amaya’s body, Amaya is in Stein’s body, and Stein is an AI and he’s startled but now keeps annoying people by popping up with his unwanted opinions all the time.
HORROR AU!!!! GHOSTHUNTING ON THE WAVERIDER!!!
It all starts when Ray Palmer and Nate Heywood, Horror White Boys ™ bring a Ouija board on the ship.
Ray thinks it’s ridiculous and Nate just laughs because he doesn’t believe in it so both are down to play it.
Sara doesn’t know if she believes or not but honestly she thinks she can kick a demon’s ass so it’s okay.
Stein and Mick probably end up possessed.
Actually tbh maybe this wouldn’t happen because Jax is smart and would break the board.
He probably does this every time Ray & Nate bring something stupid on board. “Oh a tape that kills you if you watch it? Yeah okay HOW ABOUT NO”.
Oh you went to an antique shop and found this creepy puppet??? “Nope, nope, nope, not today. Hell no, you two are out of your minds, get that shit away from me, nOOOOPEEEEEE-”
Not so much of a coda as wishful thinking for the next episode. Based on this ask sent to @bluestar86 Dadstiel, 1k
When it’s all said and
done, Cas has a baby in his arms.
Nephilim, Dean reminds
himself, but it’s difficult to think about the kid like that when he’d seen his
very human mother bleed out, pleading with them to take care of him. Dean’s seen a whole lot of awful in his time,
but that ranked pretty high on the list.
She hadn’t even gotten a
chance to name him.
The motel room somehow
seems even more suffocating now than it had a few minutes ago. Cas sits perched on the end of the bed where
Kelly—yeah. And he has a baby in his
arms. What are they supposed to do?
Dean breathes out through
his nose, even the small puff of air loud in the otherwise dead silent
room. Sam leans over and shuts Kelly’s
eyes, mouth thinned into a tight line. There’s
nothing left to do here. So, without
ever saying a word, the three of them—well, four of them—make their way out to
The drive home isn’t even
broken by driving music. Dean can’t find
it in himself to reach out and push a cassette into the player. Outside, rain starts pelting the window. In the backseat, Cas makes a soft hushing
noise whenever the kid starts to get fussy.
Dean finds himself checking
the rearview mirror to make sure they’re both all right more times than
It’s kinda silly because Mom’s always loved whatever I wear or how I style myself, she’s very convinced I am the most luminous and capitulating person in whatever room I’m in no matter what fuck those other kids, but I get disproportionately happy when she tells me how cute I look when I’m butched up, no makeup, shaved sides, clothes from the men’s department. I told her that before I come to her school I’m gonna try to get my look to be Very Intimidating Butch Lesbian, and she was like “good, you’d look so good with that tattoo.”
I told her the other day that someone in a store called me Sam instead of Sarah and it felt really…..cool in a way I’ve been thinking a lot about, and she was like “yeah, Sam’s a good name, you could write under that name, you could go by that name, whatever.” She thought I was genderqueer for a year because I botched one of my many coming out to her (“I bought I was bi but maybe I’m just……generally queer”) and she rolled with it because like. She always thinks what I wear looks good so long as I like wearing it. I think Mom’s more comfortable with me being whoever the hell I am than I’ve ever been.
So, I’ve had a lot of new followers in the past day or so and I’m sure they’re going “What in the hell have I gotten myself into??”
Allow me to explain.
Most of you know I’m paxton1976 on AO3, I have no life and write WAY too much. Keeps me out of trouble…kinda. But yeah, hope you like my fics and they bring joy to your day.
Here are some things you may not know:
1) I’m VERY sarcastic. If you’ve read MbA, you will learn I’m a mix between Yuri and Bernard.
2) I’m a potty-mouthed, video gaming, laser tag playing network admin/ cyber security independent consultant. So in other words, I’m Batman.
3) I have two roommates: Artist Dork and Music Dork. We drive each other crazy, we’re snarky af. Barrel of laughs every day.
4) Artist Dork has two kitties from hell: Akuma and Tiny Satan. They are heathens and never take it slow.
5) I have a song for every occasion.
6) Baby Jesus is probably one of my fav phrases in life along with you’ll see. You’ll see lol
7) A sad note: I am a survivor from PTSD and usually incorporate it into most of my fics one way or another. It sucks, but I want more people to learn about it as it’s grossly misunderstood.
That’s all I can think of right now. Have any other questions, ask.
Just How Important Ichigo and Rukia are to Each Other
Wanna know what guts me what’s funny?
Rukia to Ichigo, in his memory bank (in the recollection of his second most awful experience), is stained with pouring rain. She’s drenched and the blood he had coating him on the streets wasn’t thick enough to keep the rain away, he’s drowning.
I mean, let’s state the obvious. It was raining when Rukia
went to kill herself for his sake…how much more blatantly or seriously can somebody get that point across?
Rukia gave herself up. She sacrificed and offed her own life.
And never ignore that in the entirety of Rukia’s miserable life, she only managed to find a few years of decency in trying to survive and help survive with close friends she had to watch degenerate up until their deaths and a “best friend” that abandoned and never understood anything about her.
From rags to decency to depression and then to happiness with Ichigo. That’s how Rukia’s life has gone. And that happiness is what she gave up easily. Because Oh my God, it’s Ichigo.
She was so grateful to die so she could
protect him. Hell for Rukia isn’t her own death or torment… it’s the loss of Ichigo’s life, happiness, and well-being.
Then, genius-among-the-plebeians, big-boss man Urahara Kisuke of the little known Shinigami gas station,
asks (while knowing everything about the situation and what Ichigo was going through because… hell didn’t Yoruichi do some kind of the same for him?) the spiritually bankrupt Ichigo “what’s wrong? Your tone is unexpected. You make it seem as though I’ve done something wrong by saving you.“
Which, honey-bunches, we know for fact is something Ichigo considers wrong. Mortal-sin, you’ll go to hell for your havens type of wrong.
“Prove it to me and make sure your shipping googles aren’t cutting off the blood trying to circulate to your brain”, critics will say.
And to which I reply, hark!
Ichigo, who arguably gives the most respect (a concept he is fundamentally deficient in) to Urahara and Yoruichi, screamed, slammed, and looked prepared to hurt Yoruichi-san. And only because “don’t ever save me when Rukia is there, when she’s with me! You get her first! And fuck, only if you can keep her safe do you worry about me! Rukia, not me! Never me!”
Something along those lines, just with an expression so painful it curls your toes and makes you chew your nails off.
Ichigo’s attention and concern has belonged to Rukia since the evening she broke into his room and berry-boy thought she was a “samurai-costumed,overly-confident burglar.” The night she gave him a changed world.
Ponder that and then continue. Ichigo’s heart is soaked and his rain is non-relenting.
Uryu tells Urahara to let Ichigo know “the only one that can save Rukia…is you.” Get it together quickly.
Ichigo feels so frustrated, the breed of annoying that acts like a virus and infects your brain, rots and feeds on every sense that balances you. Makes you feel creepy and uncomfortable in your own, now ugly to you body, a sanctuary you can’t get away from.
Frustration, sadness, rage all mix together and simmer into hopelessness.
Rukia is being rained upon. “I can’t get to her, Urahara. How can I follow her there. Anywhere else is easy, sure, but how can I get there? How can I save her? How can I protect her? How can I get her back? I want her back!”
Ichigo is hopeless, he is sad, he’s fucking miserable and perpetually uncomfortable in what’s going on because this isn’t fucking something you ever get the pleasure of moving on from.
You don’t get to be happy when yoursoul-mate dies and decomposes because they love and care about you to a caliber that they said “Fuck you, bye!” to their own life.
You don’t get to find happiness because the feeling of that mates heart, the connection you never are allowed to continue, the altruistic care, the “you mean so much to me I’m going to give up my existence and be fucking ecstatic about it because oh my God, you! I don’t need to explain, I don’t fucking understand and maybe I don’t want to, but God you,you,you-you need to stay alive, you are forbidden from losing your future shot at happiness. You will stay and you will try and you will move because shit! I’m going to kill myself to give that to you”… all that never goes away, even on a deathbed.
I mean what the hell! The boy can’t even grieve because “dammit she’s alive! she’s breathing! She’s suffering! She’s sad! She has time, but for what? I can’t do anything!”
Ichigo’s rain, as we can come to a unanimous community consensus on, is what represents everything that anchors and locks Ichigo down, hurts him, hinders him and his development, makes moving forward too hard sometimes.
Rain is symbolic of his depression.
And it’s raining on Rukia.
Yes because weather (dur-hur), yes because this is upper-echelon in Ichigo’s most gut-wrenching, ‘at that point I didn’t think I could move anymore’ moments, and yes because this was Kubo was leading us into a deeper understanding of this through worlds and lifetimes bond.
Please listen to this, this, and this, think of Ichigo and Rukia and then cry. Please.
Ichigo has tried to convince himself that the knowledge of Uryu being okay is all he has to worry about, but when he can no longer pretend that Uryu is the reason he’s scared enough to scream…he screams about Rukia.
Trying to ignore Rukia, while noble in that he almost pretended he could respect her wishes and naive in the thought that maybe asking about Uryu was enough to get sandal-hat off his back…just doesn’t work, to any kind of degree.
Trying to push the memory of Rukia being taken away from him makes it so impossible to avoid the sadness and his real issue with the ugly night before. Kubo seriously lacks finesse and subtlety with these two. The size of
her image only gets bigger and bigger the less Ichigo is able to repress
Ichigo deflates slightly when Urahara intervenes and decides to let him know
that, “Hey kid. Hate to break it to you a little late, but there is a way to force a breaking-and-entering into that place.”
Now Ichigo’s found his way to Rukia. But what’s his concern?
Urahara’s “Ten Days of Training” one condition.
*cue Ichigo’s always creative combinations of colorful profanity, flying up out of his recovery bed, “Shit! Do you think I have time to train? Rukia will be executed! I need to go now!*
Now Urahara isn’t the most, how could one say–emotionally sensitive, running with heart and emotions kind of dude. But, and this is just a quick thing I like to think of often, Urahara was pretty okay with Ichigo’s display of emotion.
Face-value and ‘understanding’ of Urahara “most people have to try hella hard to achieve this level of shady” Kisuke leads us to believe he wanted Rukia to be safe for the lone fact the Hogyoku was shoved into her (by him, without consent).
Yet still, it’s pretty weird to think of how many times he reassured Ichigo that “yes, your Kuchiki-san will be okay. You’ll have plenty of time to save her, 13 days in fact. Just focus on that will and if your will is true, it’s stronger than steel, so train with a whole-heart (literally a thing sandal-hat says). Keep Kuchiki-san in mind and heart and you’ll get stronger and maybe you’ll even get strong enough.”
Don’t forget, Yoruichi saved Kisuke. Got him out of a world that wanted him executed (or turned human and exiled,but for him…which is better?) and took him to a new world so he (they) could continue living, even for just a bit longer. Sounds pretty familiar.
In my heart, I like to think Urahara saw a bit of Yoruichi in Rukia and a bit of himself in Ichigo. Maybe he can’t just sit and watch Rukia going down the same way he could’ve if it hadn’t been for Yoruichi. Two pairs of soulmates with a weird kind of unfortunate connection.
This wouldn’t be the primary reason for a guy like Urahara I think, but maybe it was where his reassurances came from.
In this circumstance, Ichigo and Rukia were both trying to save each other as the other was attempting the same. Maybe they’re both a little Yoruichi.
Yoruichi took Urahara out of Soul Society and gave everything up. Rukia gave up everything by going into Soul Society and keeping Ichigo out.
But with this news, Ichigo begins stressing about time management after Urahara gives him hope (that Ichigo accepts and tries to act upon immediately). Hence the cursing and lack of reasoning.
And ever so patient Urahara comes in with, “Yes dumb ass there is a way to enter the world your Kuchiki-san gave up
her life to keep you out of and away from. I can get you in the same
way Yoruichi got me out. One condition though, you train with me. Don’t use your need for her life as an excuse to kill yourself.”
Ichigo is a little shy of the maturity and delicacy he shows his father during later-on direct combat with Aizen at this point.
So he just waits for Urahara with diluted anger and a renewed sadness because Urahara talking about Shinigami power rankings and the fact that Ichigo doesn’t measure up stresses Ichigo out.
Rukia is really in trouble, huh?
“Calm down, you exasperating brat. I’ll fulfill your wishes.” But we’ll also have ignore Kuchiki-san’s mentality for this, aka
“damn you, Ichigo you’ll die! Let me do that for you! You will not die.
You cannot die. What’s the worth of my world or yours if you’re not in
Even if Rukia doesn’t want it, Ichigo’s hope
builds. He found his way. He found the path he could use to follow her.
Ichigo found his way back to Rukia.
The last step is, “Can I become strong enough?”
Hell yeah, berry-brat, if you can fight for her with your entire heart.
And what happens because of it?
With the hope of Rukia.
The rain stops.
And Ichigo can move again.
Kind of gives new meaning to the whole:
“I wonder if I can keep up with it? The speed of the world with no you.” and “The rain drags Black Sun down, but the rain is dried by White Moon.”
It’s a lot harder to pretend Rukia doesn’t matter.
“Not strong this,” James hiccuped loudly, “…stuff.”
“Not at all,” agreed Sirius, draining the last of the Firewhiskey.
Peter was snoring on the tabletop in the Three Broomsticks. He was drawing a lot of stares.
“You-you’re lucky,” slurred Sirius, “That I t-turned seven. Seventeen. Seventeen I mean. You know? I turned seventeen first and now I’m old enough to…to…”
“Yeah,” agreed James, sloppily shoving his glasses up his nose with the flat of his hand. They were very smudgy and he was peering through them as if he wasn’t sure why things were so blurred. He kept touching the lenses to make sure they were still there, and leaving more fingerprints.
“For Merlin’s sake, please keep your voices down,” moaned Remus. “Students aren’t supposed to be drinking.”
“Y-y-you were drinking,” giggled James. As usual, his voice was not anyone’s idea of an indoor voice, a quirk that was not unique to his current inebriation. James was, in the simplest of terms, loud.
“Twas not,” Sirius argued. He was bright red, but seemed to at least be stable. James was weaving in his chair like a top-heavy flower in a strong wind. “R-Remus he didn’t drink…didn’t drink…didn’t you know? Didn’t…he just went -” he gave a strangled choke.
“I did not,” Remus snapped, a little miffed. “I’ve been choking down much fouler stuff than this my whole life.”
“Really?” It was Lily, and the immediate reactions of the four created a loud cacophony of sound that drew every eye in the Three Broomsticks.
Sirius yelped a war cry of triumph, something between “AAAIOOOO and HEYYYYYYOOO.” James shrieked and fell from his chair trying to sit on his hands. Peter woke up when James hit the legs of his chair with a gigantic snort and an indignant “HEY!” And Remus, who had truthfully only had enough to make him feel dizzy and quickly stopped, flushed a brilliant ivory that Lily of all people had approached the table. He might have even handled anyone better…except perhaps Professor McGonagall.
“Really?” Lily sighed while she surveyed the table, Sirius not at all subtly tucking the square bottle into his jacket under one armpit. It slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor. He swooped it back up under his other armpit and pulled his leather jacket closed over his school sweater, his grin a glitter of white in a sea of red.
“Did you really expect different?” Remus said, trying to laugh a little. His ears were so painful from the blush he thought they would fall off.
“From them?” Lily gestured at James and Sirius. James had crawled up to his chair only to discover someone was sitting in it. He and Sirius were now having a heated argument whose chair it was, while James tried to pull him out of it. “No. From you and Peter? Yes.”
“I’m not drunk,” Remus said quickly. “Somebody’s got to wrangle this lot.”
“You’re trying to get them outside?” Lily asked.
Remus nodded. He gestured her forward. “Are you going to-”
Lily drew back, affronted. “First of all you have been drinking! Remus Lupin, a prefect!”
Remus ducked his head guiltily, but Lily only laughed.
“And come on Remus, we’re friends. I wouldn’t tell. I’m a prefect, not an asshole.”
Remus, who had grown up hearing Sirius swear since he was twelve years old, still blushed when Lily said it, and laughed awkwardly. “Thanks.”
“I can’t help you get them back to school,” Lily said. “Just outside. I have to go meet Mary and Alice at Scrivenshaft’s to pick out our planners for January.”
“Of course,” Remus agreed at once. “Just outside. Away from people,” he stressed.
“Come on, Peter,” Lily said kindly, tugging Peter’s arm. He had fallen into a stupor, eyes glazed over. He tried to stand, staggered back into the chair, knocked the chair over, and was only saved a rough tumble by Lily’s hand on his arm. She quickly took him out first.
“Where’s Wormy going?” James demanded loudly.
Remus sighed, but tried to fix a smile to his face. “We’re having a snowball fight outside,” he said cheerfully. “Want to come?”
“RACE YOU!” bellowed James, and bolted from his chair. He weaved a very circuitous and uneven route to the door but managed it all on his own.
“Padfoot?” Remus asked in a low voice.
Sirius only grinned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said briskly, and stood quite steadily. “You think this is going to stop me? You should have seen what Mum put in Reggie’s and my milk bottles to get us to sleep.”
He left Remus gaping after him, his arm awkwardly bulky over the square bottle. Remus quickly recovered himself and followed. Outside, he could see James sprinting after Lily calling, “WAIT! EVANS! WAIT FOR ME!” It was normal enough behavior for James, though Remus knew he’d be mortified when he sobered up.
Remus and Sirius walked forward. Sirius only staggered the slightest bit over the icy and uneven terrain, but was mostly steady. He had a strange, fixed grin to his face that made Remus uneasy, but he didn’t comment on it. Lily was waiting with Peter, who was shivering and looking distinctly miserable, his round face pale and sweating. James had dived headfirst into a snowdrift and was making snowballs as fast as his bare hands could make them. Remus reflected it was lucky his mum had spelled his gloves to be unloseable as James was so absentminded.
“Are you going to be okay?” Lily asked, watching James with a mixture of disgust and helpless amusement.
Remus smiled, more to himself than for her. Sometimes Lily couldn’t quite hide how she was starting to feel about James, even if James was oblivious to it.
“Evans, hey, Evans,” he kept saying. “Come play. You want to play? We can be on the same team? Or not, whatever you want. But I’m really good. Like really good. Good. Good at snowballs. You know? Quidditch. Quidditch snow. Like, I’m amazing.”
“Yeah,” Remus coughed into a fist to hide his amusement. “We’ll be okay.”
“Right then,” said Lily, backing away and laughing in spite of herself at James’ weak armed throw in her direction. It missed by a good five feet. “Good luck with this…and see you for rounds later?”
“You will give me the drunk Potter blow by blow?”
Remus smiled to himself again. “Every embarrassing detail,” he promised.
As Lily walked back toward the main avenue in the village, James still demanding she come back and play, Remus turned first to Peter.
“Can you transform?”
“Huh?” Peter was in a daze, his blue eyes streaming in the cold. His nose was red, lips swollen from the alcohol.
“Transform into Wormtail?”
“Yeah. Yeah I can do it.” He stood there, staring bewilderedly at Remus.
Remus sighed, but put a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Peter. Pete.”
Peter looked at him again. “Huh?”
“Transform into the rat.”
“Yes,” repeated Remus patiently. “Right now.”
There was a long moment when nothing happened, then Peter was shrinking as Remus had seen him do dozens of times before. Remus stepped in front of him, shielding him from view though they were around the bend on the edge of town. In a moment, the rat was in front of him, shivering uncontrollably. Remus picked him up and put him in his inner robe pocked by his right hip. By the way the rat went limp next to his body heat, it was evident Peter had fallen asleep.
“You good?” he asked Sirius. Sirius had climbed over James’ snowbank and was leaning against the fence.
“Yeah. Course I am,” he said, but his face looked green. Without warning he turned over the fence and vomited a shockingly bright orange sludge into the snow, where it hissed on impact.
“Great,” said Remus. “Perfect. Well, better in the snow than anywhere else.”
“I’m fine,” Sirius repeated weakly. He was clutching his stomach.
“I need you to stick with me,” Remus said, bending to the snow where James was soaking wet and shivering, finally realizing there would be no snowball fight. He crushed his waiting pile of snowballs childishly with an angry swipe of his fist.
“Can you get up?” he asked James.
James bounded up so fast he cracked into Remus, who straightened up, wincing as James bellowed, writhing on his back in the snow in a weird mimicry of a snow angel. Watching them, Sirius vomited again.
“Come here!” demanded Remus, pulling James’ arm over his own, taller shoulder. “We’re going home.”
“Don’t want to,” said James bitterly. His glasses were hanging off one ear. Remus plucked them from his face and put them in his own pocket.
“I can’t see!” James yelled. “I’ve gone blind!”
Remus closed his eyes, praying to any old god they’d been talking about in History of Magic that he wouldn’t be cracking James’ skull again in the next hour.
“Sirius, come on. We’re going now.”
Miserable now, Sirius followed a little ways behind as Remus and James started trudging their way up to the castle. It was a good thing that Remus was carrying the bag, which had James’ invisibility cloak inside, because after a miserable twenty minutes of Sirius groaning that he would die, and James insisting he was fine and he wanted to walk on his own (only to promptly slip and fall), they stopped a little ways away.
“Silencio,” Remus tapped James’ mouth and James opened it to bellow belligerently once again, but nothing came out. Remus quickly took out James’ invisibility cloak, wrapped him in it, and fastened the ends in place with a mild sticking charm. He left the very smallest wisp of James’ flyaway black hair out of the cloak; impossible to see if you weren’t looking for it. With another spell, locomotor mortis, he levitated the invisible, thrashing, silent James.
“Come on,” he said to Sirius, who was no longer red but ashen grey. “We’ve got to get upstairs. Taking the arm James had been hanging on the whole way, he slung it under Sirius’ shoulder as they reentered the castle, the young caretaker Argus Filch parked in a chair by the entrance, eyeing students suspiciously.
“What’s wrong with him, then?” Filch asked Remus.
“Bad meat pasty,” he replied hastily, hauling Sirius up the grand staircase. He had a funny feeling Filch would try to follow them, and he was sure to smell Sirius within ten feet of him. The odor of whiskey was unmistakable.
It was a good thing they had spent so much time on their marvelous map, because it helped Remus navigate to the most isolated, little used corridors, even though the moving staircases made Sirius retch. On the first occasion, Remus pulled Sirius’ wand out of his jacket pocket and vanished the pool of sick, using two wands in two hands. He didn’t bother giving it back, as he had to repeat the vanishing charm several more times until they made it to the Seventh Floor. The common room, thankfully, was mostly empty, though James accidentally collided with the chandelier because Remus wasn’t paying attention, looking casually at the faces of the younger students staring openly at them.
Sirius bolted up the stairs to the first bathroom on the boys side of the dormitory. Remus passed him on the first turn of the staircase, still levitating James. Up, up, and up they went to the highest level to their attic dormitory. Up another narrow, ladderlike staircase, and Remus finally settled James on the floor, or so he guessed by the piece of his hair. He undid the sticking charm and pulled the invisibility cloak off of him. James was brick red in the face and still swearing silently.
“Are you going to yell? If you are, I’ll just leave it on.”
James closed his mouth, but finally shook his head.
“All right then.” Remus took the silencing charm off of him. James sat up on the floor, looking around.
“The floor’s gone all…all weird,” he said, right before his eyes rolled up in his head, and he passed out from his thrashing exertions.
Sighing, Remus went over and pulled off James’ coat and robes, sending them to hang up with a silent spell. He was quite good at the household ones, but was still learning the others. Taking off James’ shoes and belt by hand, he used magic to get James into his bed and under the covers. He carefully took his glasses out of an inner pocket and placed them on James’ nightstand Remus pulled the hangings shut and put the rat Wormtail his own bed. Wormtail was fast asleep, so Remus shook him until Wormtail squeaked indignantly.
“Change back,” Remus commanded.
Wormtail ignored him, trying to turn back in a circle, finding warmth to go back to sleep.
Remus picked the rat up. “Change back.”
A few more indignant squeaks and thrashes until it occurred to Peter that it might just be easier to do as Remus suggested. Remus quickly let go when the half-morphed Peter became too heavy to hold. He fell to the bed and landed heavily, human again. Peter managed to struggle out of his own shoes and clothes fairly well, and Remus only pulled the covers up to his chin and shut the hangings.
He went in search of Sirius, and found him a few stairs short of their room, green and holding his stomach, his face pinched. He had managed to hold onto the firewhiskey bottle up until now, and Remus helped him up with an arm under his, taking the bottle from him gently. He got Sirius into bed and managed to find a few spare potions in his own nightstand for the days leading up to the full moon. He gave Sirius a stomach settler made primarily of dandelions, and spiked it with a dash of a sleeping draft. It did the trick. Sirius blinked hazily, laid his head back on his pillow, and was asleep before Remus finished drawing the curtains.
Peter began to snore again, and sighing, Remus left the dormitory to go back down to the commons. To his surprise, the chairs by the fire were empty. He moved to one gratefully; he was more chilled than he had thought, and smiled when Lily peered around the edge of the armchair.
“You did all right,” she said with a grin.
“Thanks,” Remus said, flopping into the chair with a groan and closing his eyes in the warmth of the flames. He was more tired than he had realized. There were several long moments while they sat quietly, listening to the bustle of the Commons behind them. Remus realized he was drifting farther and farther from wakefulness, but it didn’t worry him. He just listened idly as the world around him slowly faded, but didn’t miss the last thing Lily said.
When I first joined the fandom I saw k/@nce and I was like hell yeah! And I saw sh@/adin antis and my 12 y/o self thought "oh they must be right." A week later I braved through the sh@nce tag and actually learned the definitions of things antis blamed sh@/adins for and found myself shipping more sh@/adin and any of the paladins x any others and less Klance and I feel happy not that I'm not an asshole (though I never posted shit or sent things to shippers) who knew nothing about definitions
This is literally what I see though a lot of the people who are antis are simply people who have got into voltron and have been bombarded with SHALADIN IS PEDOPHILIA!!!! IF YOU WANT TO BE A GOOD PERSON IN THE FANDOM YOU HAVE TO BE ANTI!!! And they’ve just thought oh shit well they must be right then and I don’t want any trouble and they just leave it at that. You’re living proof that it literally doesn’t take much for these people to just look a little into things to realise, actually, all of that ranting was complete bullshit, but because the first thing people see is antis raving about incorrect shit, they just take it at face value because they don’t want to look any further which is just sad really because these people are just being fed lies
Tagged by @alistairs, thanks a lot! ♥ I finally have an excuse to talk about my dorters hell yeah
BOLD ANY FEARS WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE. ITALICIZE WHAT MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE.
Guinevere Adaar [dragon age] a.k.a my sweet sweet cinnamon roll with horns
the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces.change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying.intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. sex.
Cassidy Ryder [mass effect andromeda] yeah I couldn’t help myself, I had to include my space dorter too, even though most of my mutuals don’t play mass effect, but, well, I can never shut up about my ocs, so bear with me
the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched. sex.
i still cant believe that there are actual lgbt people who think hating cishets is mean? like i literally cant believe you can look at lgbt history, hell look at how lgbt people are being treated TODAY, and say “yeah we may be murdered, beaten up, discriminated against, have our accomplishments erased completely from a lot of history, we may be called every homophobic and transphobic slur under the sun bc people hate us for who we are, yeah maybe people can fire us or refuse us service or kill us and if they say that they did it because we’re q*eers and they “dont agree with our lifestyle” then its perfectly okay, sure maybe some gay people may be scared to walk down the street holding their partners hand, sure maybe some trans people fear for their life literally every single second, but i think that you, a random nb lesbian on the internet who i know absolutely nothing about, saying that you hate cishets, is a bit harsh” this actually started out as a short joke post about that person earlier but i realised that im absolutely livid and i wont be quiet about it