It Should 100% Be Illegal For Companies To Make You Give Them Your Payment Information When You Sign

Y/N: hey, am I pretty?

Bucky: I literally think you are one of the most beautiful things ever created in nature but you could say that too

THE ICONIC POST! I FINALLY CAME ACROSS IT!

remus, angrily: ARE YOU- sirius: fucking remus: KIDDING ME, YOU- sirius: fucking remus: PIECE OF- sirius: shit remus: I HOPE YOU- sirius: fucking remus: TRIP, OVER YOUR- sirius: fucking remus: LACES james:........what the hell was that? sirius: lily has forbidden remus to swear, so I'm helping him out a little bit

𝐨𝐡, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⭒⭒⭒

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬' 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝.

𝟖𝟏𝟕 - masterlist

⭒⭒⭒

"I want one." I'd said, without even thinking.

Harry had just started to crawl. Lily was hovering over him rather nervously, wand at the ready to fix any bumps or bruises whilst James (who was very frazzled, but also very chuffed for his son) tried to figure out how to work the 'bloody muggle photo-thingy'.

Inside the Potter's living room, filled with laughter and joy, and so so much love for each other (and Baby Harry) it was all too easy to forget about the war. It was easy to forget the identifying questions James had made us answer on arrival, or the incantation we'd had to perform just to be able to see James and Lily's home. It was easy to forget the missions Sirius and Remus were being sent on, stretching out over weeks and days, or the missing muggles, witches and wizards, the rising death toll, the insistent nagging from The Dark Lord to change allegiances and join him.

On a lazy Sunday, where Lily would make soup and crusty rolls for lunch, and a roast for tea, where James and Sirius would spend hours transforming between their anamagi to amuse Baby Harry and Remus would read aloud whilst Peter and I played chess, it was easy to forget everything wrong with the world. It was so easy to just exist.

Remus looked up over the cover of his book and then down at his nephew, who was now sitting atop Padfoot, his father laughing maniacally whilst Lily shooed them out of the kitchen. He smiled an odd sort of smile, like he hadn't expected the words to come out of my mouth at all. Ever. Honestly, neither had I. Having children had been the last thing on my mind, in that time. But seeing the joy that Harry had brought to our friends, the life that Lily and James were building for him - it inspired me.

"Well," Remus mused, sitting his book down on the coffee table - careful to mind the cups of scattered tea everywhere - "I'll distract Lily. You could take Prongs in a duel. Easy."

His smile was wicked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he came from the single arm chair to the sofa I was stretched across. He lifted my legs, sat them back on his lap, arm stretched along the back of the sofa behind me. I rolled my eyes at him, pouting, "You know fine well that's not what I meant, Lupin."

Remus laughed. A rare laugh, these days. My heart melted. He looked so much like the boy I'd fallen in love with all those years ago - the quiet (not at all quiet), studious, mysterious Remus Lupin. Little had I known he was the true mastermind to all 'Marauder' pranks, while remaining studious and mysterious, but also being the biggest, most sarcastic loud mouth I'd ever met. I had been in way too deep ever since.

"I know, love, I know." He patted my shin gently, lovingly.

He was thinking, behind those big, hazel eyes. I knew Remus inside and out, the moral debate was eating him alive. The self doubt, the inner fear he held of himself, of the wolf.

"I guess I never much thought of us having children. Of you wanting to have them, really, with me..." Remus looked pitiful, lost in thought, I frowned.

"Why wouldn't I want to have children with you? They'd be the prettiest, smartest, funniest babies to ever walk the Earth." I said confidently.

This earned me another laugh. Then, a shrug, "I dunno," Remus scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "The wolf, I guess. It's not really one hundred percent that the kid wouldn't be."

I knew the possibility. But I also knew the progress that was being made in the ways of Lycanthropy. I knew how hard it had been for Remus, growing up. I knew he was cast aside, an afterthought, that people held prejudice against 'his kind', but I'd only ever loved him more for the strong man it had turned him into.

Not everyone was like this, though.

"I know the risks. I know you'll have put a lot more thought into it than me. A conversation for another time, maybe, but I'd like you to know," My hands reached for his face, guiding him to meet my eyes, "It would never be the wolf that put me off having children with you, Remus."

Remus smiled, a genuine smile and leaned forward to place his lips on mine. I settled back into the sofa, watched as Remus picked up his book, settling over my shins to read it.

"Your massive head..." I blew a whistle, "Now that might put me off."

Sirius cackled from the kitchen. Remus blew a raspberry and Harry copied him.

Gives me Aziraphale/Crowley relationship vibes

OMG THE LEGENDARY POST IVE ONLY SEEN IN SCREENSHOTS

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

love them so much

stop looking at me respectfully and start looking at me like a coyote looks at a fully stocked henhouse

Ways to Honor Loki

Here’s a list of things I’m starting to do for myself that also honors Loki! Feel free to use any of these for yourselves. :)

1. Do the Harder Thing.

If faced with two potential decisions, I now try to go for the harder but ultimately more rewarding option, which I’m not naturally inclined to do. This is especially helpful if long-term goals keep falling to the wayside!

2. Speak where you might be silent.

Fear often stays my tongue, but for no good reason. Now I try to speak up when I want, and share what I want, and do the things I want that fear would otherwise stop me from doing. 

3. Take the wheel.

This one’s actually developed out of necessity of working with Loki. My life’s been in chaos, but I can either flounder in the waves or ride out the storm. I’d rather do the latter, even if it’s hard. See item 1.

4. Face the Unknown.

There are a lot of things I don’t know how to do, but when the time comes to do it, that shouldn’t stop me.

As far as I’m concerned, it’s damn near impossible to remain stagnant with Loki around, and it’s bitten me in the ass when I’ve tried. Figured it’d be better if I started to make the moves before he does!

Fictober Day 8

No prompt. Just an idea. Credits to @buckyalpine for the inspiration behind this.

Angst, Stucky-ish, hurt no comfort.

Bucky sits down in front of the engraved stone, fingers running over the letters as tears prick his eyes.

“I didn't know they could remove it, Steve. I-I was just tryna calm everyone done. Didn't needa be a situation. S-She did somethin’…”

He trails off, sobbing softly, forehead against Steve's gravestone, his heart aching.

“She took if off, Stevie. Didn't know they could do that. I-I though she trusted me, I thought they all trusted me. B-But they still… they still treated me like I was him. I'm not a monster, Steve.”

His chest aches, throat tight, fist clenched as tears pour down his face.

“I need you, Steve. Why'd you have to go off and get the girl? I thought… I thought you loved me. You said you loved me. Til the end of the line.”

His voice cracks and wavers.

“I guess that was the end of the line, me coming back. Steve, I'm not a monster. I was gettin’ better. I was gonna be okay, for you! Why didn't you gimme that chance?”

Bucky rambles on and on, tears pouring, sobs falling from his lips, his forehead pressed against the gravestone, heart aching.

When his tears finally dry, he stands, wiping his face.

“Love you, Steve.” He chokes out before walking away, hands shoved in his pockets.

Passerby always wondered who was leaving the expensive bouquets of flowers on Steve's grave. Afterall, no one spends that much money on a hero they never met. But after that day, the word spread and the speculation stopped. Bucky Barnes was Steve Rogers secret lover, the lover that stayed, even after death, leaving flowers on his grave.

Spicy-brained friends, I would like to propose an update to the very useful ‘if you hate everyone, eat, if everyone hates you, sleep, and if you hate yourself, shower’ mantra to live by

Have you suddenly become a petty, hateful little gremlin who thinks people should face the firing squad for (checks notes) leaving teabags on the counter, breathing loudly, or daring to exist in the same space as you? Perhaps mundane and reasonable requests like ‘hey, we agreed to hang out now, let’s hang out’ make you want to scream and move to a yurt in the woods.

You. Are. Overstimulated.

People talk a lot about being overstimulated, and the physical/mental effects of it. What I haven’t seen is people talking about what it does emotionally, and it took me an embarassingly long time to link up those nitpicky, resentful emotions with the state of overstimulation/meltdown/shutdown.

These feelings do not mean that you’re a bad person! They probably aren’t how you actually feel about the people around you. They probably do mean that your nervous system is at its absolute limit and any request/demand/stimulus is Too Much and taking you into fight or flight territory.

Go lie down in a dark room for an hour, or find somewhere safe and familiar to stim for a bit. If it’s happening a lot, schedule yourself regular low-stimulation shutdown time

Signed: someone who moved in with their nearest and dearest only to have a massive crisis of faith about Suddenly Hating All of Them. I don’t hate them, it’s just overstimulating living with people. If I can spare anyone else a similar 9 months of suspecting that they may actually be a bit of a shit person, then this post is worth it!