james learns

8

Flying with Supergirl is always so great… for most people.

Bonus:

A hand drawn mood-board for the 2017 rebranding and Daniel Howell’s aesthetics

(yes that is, in fact, a shibe because I ran out of ideas sry not sry)

peter was a marauder, too.

i think that’s important to remember, when you think of the marauders. peter was there too. it wasn’t just james and sirius’ pranks, remus’ slightly more reticent nature. peter was alongside them in that time, no matter what he would go on to do later.

when you imagine the marauders, remember peter. remember the meek boy who idolised james and sirius, who learned under their wing. remember that he was there too, the child who would later break them apart, laughing and joking along with those who would later be crowned as heroes. it is easy to write him out of this history, to minimise his presence to a skulking hanger-on. but he was wormtail when that name wasn’t linked with evil; one of the three who learned the most difficult magic to help out their friend, who mapped an unmappable building, who achieved more than their teachers had ever suspected. peter was there, and he was in the middle of it. it is easy to imagine him as being a traitor before he betrayed them, but the truth is that it could happen to anyone whose will is not strong enough. peter snapped under the pressure, but he had the same promise as any of them. peter was a marauder until he made the most vile of mistakes.

four boys, together under the golden sunlight. tomorrow they would be separated - one dead, one imprisoned, one a traitor, one left alone. but when they were the marauders they were four, and we would do well to remember that.

A thought: Modern flinthamilton AU in which Alfred is still a homophobic douchebag but they went ‘fuck you’ and got married anyway.

I call this “Thomas I don’t think your husband is listening to a single word you say…… he’s… distracted”

keltic-moon  asked:

Imagine Steve Rogers finding out that one or two of the Howling Commandos (maybe Dugan and/or Falsworth) are still alive (but hella old) in present day because they just show up one day at Avenger tower and just let themselves in and before long the three of them are telling the Tony, Thor, and the team a tale of the glory days of the Howling Commandos. (Up to you if you want to throw Bucky in)

Thor’s unmistakable, booming laughter was easily discernable from the other side of the door, as was a mess of chatter and laughter from his other teammates.  The softer, slower cadence that came when the laughter subsided, Steve couldn’t place.

When he turned the corner into the common area, he nearly dropped his shield.  The faces weren’t the same – lined and aged – but he still knew them.   

“Dum Dum? Monty?”

“’ere he is!” Monty grinned.  “Let’s us have a look at you.”  

Steve stumbled over in a fog. He hadn’t had the time – he’d read the files shortly after the Chitauri, but that had been a few years before.  He didn’t think they’d still be alive and he felt something deep within him ease to know that they were.

“Even ages better’n we did, Monty.”  Dugan was still sporting his mustache, though it wasn’t as full as it’d once been. 

“How – I didn’t think-“

“-That we’d miss a chance to warn your new team about your particular brand of shenanigans?”  There was a familiar glint in Monty’s eyes.

“Cap? Shenanigans? I don’t know if those words belong in the same sentence, gentlemen.”  Tony’s grin was shit-eating.  

“Suppose not.”  Dugan mused. “Unless you count the raid in Al—“

“—No.  That was strategic.”

“The goat was not strategic.”  Monty tipped carefully to his right, stage whispering to Natasha: “He thought barnyard fauna counted as a sufficient diversionary device.” 

“It worked!”

“Not the point! You couldn’t have guessed that goat was going to head-butt a HYDRA operative.  You got lucky!”  Dugan took a sip of what Steve was reasonably sure was a Hot Toddy.   

“Dernier trained it.”

“He was the explosives expert!”

“-And goat whisperer.”  Steve set his jaw against a laugh.  

“Wait, I’m confused.  Was there a special ops goat, or wasn’t there?”  Bruce looked between the three Commandos curiously and seeming a little hopeful that it was possible to train a goat for such a task.  

Dugan cracked up first, Monty and Steve devolving into helpless laughter not long after.  

Maybe.”  Came the unified, giggled response.  

“Aw, be nice to Eleanor, she saved the day that day!”  Bucky was back and had caught the tail end of the conversation, apparently.  

Marauders Headcanon #13

-James was a happy drunk. It didn’t take much to get him tipsy, and once he was, he would giggle about nothing, dance to songs that had stopped playing an hour ago, go on rants about how much he loved the color green, wrap his arms around his friends and beam, or lay with his head on Lily’s lap and go on for hours about how ‘I really really love you, Lils.’

-Remus was a reckless drunk. He could hold alcohol better than any of the others, but once he was drunk, he was drunk. He would completely loose his filter, which lead to James learning way more about how Remus and Sirius passed time alone than he ever wanted to know, Peter getting roped into trying to steal the sorting hat from Dumbledore’s office, and the infamous streaking incident of 1977. After the first few times, Remus learned exactly where to draw the line with alcohol- he hated the feeling of loosing control.

-Sirius was an emotional drunk. People who thought he was a drama queen sober had obviously never seen him after a few drinks. Remus secretly loved getting him drunk to hear him declare his love for him, or laugh at him challenging James to a battle for their honor over James telling him that he had the cuter date. However, he would instantly regret it when Sirius burst into tears because, ‘You don’t understand, Moony, he took my cupcake!’

-Peter was a philosophical drunk. He was just as much of a lightweight as James, except instead of laughing at nothing and rambling about Lily’s hair, he could be found quietly asking Remus if he believed in heaven, discussing the death penalty with a stranger, or arguing with Sirius about what the best bar food at the hog’s head was.

Harry realizes that the Weasleys are for real when the Burrow inhabitants start picking up the habit of mussing up his hair when they pass. It starts with Fred and George, because hair-mussing is their mark of affection for Ron and Ginny, but soon Percy and Arthur pick it up, too. 

The first time Molly does it, quickly, as he’s running through the kitchen behind Ron on their way out to the garden, Harry pauses for a second and tries to remember anyone ever doing anything with his hair other than try to tame it, tame him. 

But here, here they don’t want him tame. They want him as he is.