#marleys rants.

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

I WOULD LIKE TO RANT ABOUT HOW WILSON MUST'VE FELT WHEN HOUSE "DIED".

well we know he was sad, heart broken even. but he must've been absolutely furious. seen in his speech at the funeral, he went on a rant about house was an arse and loved making people miserable.

"dying selfishly, numbed by narcotics without a thought of anyone!"

honestly that line says a lottt. of course wilson was angry, the only man who cared deeply for him just died, when he could've saved himself. of course wilson was angry because now he had to spend his 5 months alone probably in "a hospital bed in fluorescent lighting, with people to stop and gawk and lie about how he looks" which was something he specifically said he didn't want. i really wish they added the scene of when wilson went home after houses "body" was carried out, that would've been an amazing scene, and robert sean leonard i bet would've shown it perfectly.

bye bye 😋

[emilyskinners]

straight ship so good, you even got the lesbians rooting for them

[cleopatrachampagne]

i know i’m far from an expert on history but it always bothers me to see bob marley’s portrait hanging in my local weed shop. like, i’ve loved reggae music since i was young, well before i ever smoked weed, i know listening to music is pretty rad when stoned, and i admit i understand that a lot of prominent figures and concepts idolized by the hippies and revolutionaries of the 60’s and 70’s in the usa eventually became synonymous with drug use, esp marijuana, due to smear campaigns against counterculture so maybe it is a kind of defiance to display it proudly? but while i understand the admiration a lot of disillusioned young people in the usa in the 60’s and 70’s would have felt for the people fighting the class war in jamaica and the reggae music emerging with lyrics about said war but still pushing for peace, for one love, as they worked to topple inequity and corrupt systems while redefining perspectives on race, oppression and intergenerational trauma but how did bob marley become “the weed man” in the cultural consciousness when he was a spokesperson for political change and class revolution? is it only that way in the us? do other countries and cultures see him as more than a stoner icon with his face on rasta memorabilia sold at jacked up prices to college kids who have never even heard of the rastafari revolution, the pan-african movement or the jamaican civil war, idk why but it really does bother me to see a strong voice for peace and change reduced to a face plastered on drug paraphernalia and stoner t-shirts. like… damn. that’s the death of a revolutionary in the capitalist tradition, i suppose. bob marley’s portrait hanging above the bud hut cash register, “grunge” clothing sold by fast fashion corporate hellholes, t-shirts with kurt cobain’s suicide note written on them being sold for 800 bucks a pop, eat the rich stickers for sale on amazon of all places, santa muerte being sold as a goth accessory or a “hardcore” generic tattoo in the us stripped of what she symbolizes to me and many other latina/o people who were raised with mexican neopaganism and folk catholic traditions, sanitized street art commissioned by some silicon valley suit that is purely aesthetics with no heart, no soul, nothing related to the authenticity of artistic vandalism, just imaginary street cred points for a rich dick. i get the same feeling in my stomach seeing the “aesthetic” whitewash of counterculture, the clownery of “alt” culture on apps like tiktok, the cashing in on the suffering of the oppressed for a quick buck and the tragic victory of cementing hippies and beatniks and freedom fighters in the minds of the following generations as degenerate druggies (thanks nixon and crew) that i get when i hear that pop remix of “the hanging tree” and it’s a lot to take in while i’m just trying to buy a box of strawberry cough prerolls.

[marley-manson]

Stepping into the traditional role of hero seems a feminist triumph to many; however, it also arguably masculinizes Xena, suggesting that for women to become heroic they must become, in effect, men.

I originally went on a rant about this sentiment but it just felt like stating the obvious about how masculinity and femininity are bullshit oppressive categories that aren't actually or ~effectively~ prerequisites of gender, so allow me to just say:

🙄🙄🙄

[vampiric-kitty]

I think abt my siblings trollsonas a lot, but specifically my sister's (down there!!!)

Marley Ampora my beloved she's so funny 2 me bc my sister keeps making random shit up for her and slapping it into her canon. This girl runs a fucking gym. She says everyone is her moirail bc they can't deny it if they don't know and the only thing she has to even know who Eridan is, IS A FUCKING PICTURE OF MARCH ERIDAN. SHES SO GOOFY FOR NO REASON

Her dumbass typing quirk swaps Ms and Ws and removes v from her so she literally pronounces her name WARLEY AWPORA. stupid stupid stupid dumb girl (I love her very much) she goes grimdark (glubdark???) and even that can't even be taken seriously because now she just sounds like ENA

What a doofus (lovingly) 10/10 seer best fish girl ever #1 bird fan top tier moirail

[patronsaint-prometheus]

I love having autism until I infodump about something and then I just hear “why do you keep bringing that up when you know none of us give a shit?” on repeat in the back of my head for the rest of time.

[femslashspuffy]

It's so crazy that they're still making biopics. The Weird Al movie should've stopped all of this. Weird Al didn't get shot for me to still have to constantly watch ads for musical biopics

[brobruhbroski]

one time i went on a rant about how Reggae and ska are 2 different genres (ngl i was hating on ska) because they thought a ska song was reggae........bob Marly is on my wall i can't let it slide

[endlesslystarlitskies]

Reblogging because Jesus fuck I'm so tired of seeing ppl defend/excuse Eren for committing a literal genocide.

He literally said himself that the timeline was only set in stone because he himself wanted it to happen the way it did. Not to protect his friends. Like I need ppl to stop defending genocide. Please.

Quotes from the English dub anime:

Armin: And you're saying you did all this for us?

Eren: No. I didn't. I wanted to level everything. I wanted to see this sight.

Armin: Why?

Eren: I don't know why. I just wanted to do it... so very badly. I thought I was doing everything to protect all of you. But Sasha and Hange died because of me, and I wound up putting you in lethal confrontations with Floch. Why...

Eren: Why did it turn out this way? I finally know. It's because I'm an idiot. A garden-variety idiot who got his hands on power. That's why this resolution was the only possible outcome. That's all there is to it, right?

The fact that so many people view what Eren did as something selfless and heroic just blows my mind. He’s become so popular because of this too. Like the amount of people I see that praise him for what he’s done and just misunderstand his character and motivations is crazy even when he outwardly states what he is doing is bad multiple times. So many believe that he just did everything for his friends and in the end he achieved his goal. You have people praising him and then slandering the alliance members for wanting to stop all the death and destruction to save humanity which has been a core theme in all of AOT. It genuinely feels like they’ve watched a whole different anime. Maybe yams wasn’t clear enough for THESE people that what he is doing is wrong?? Isayama did say that he wanted people feel a little sympathetic towards Eren and his actions but like you should have the braincells to still understand he is in the wrong. Idk I just think the misunderstanding of Eren and AOT in general needs to be studied.

It really is bizarre, isn't it?

I don't really know how Isayama could have been any clearer, to be honest. He even made changes to the end of the anime to make it MORE clear that Eren did it for himself, and people still can't see it. Apparently, nothing is ever enough for some people, and it's honestly disturbing how many people just... don't get it, or aren't willing to accept that Eren was just a bad person. It's ironic, because Eren accepts that about himself. He knows he's a bad person. That's where all his self-loathing comes from. Of course we're meant to feel some sympathy for Eren. His very nature destroyed him, and that's a tragedy in and of itself. But we're not meant to feel sympathetic toward his actions, or the reasoning behind his actions, because those actions were entirely selfish in nature. We're meant to understand that a person like Eren should never have wound up with the power he did in the first place. The core message at the heart of the entire story is that when you oppress a group of people, inevitably, someone who shouldn't have power ends up with it. Someone who will use their power for ill. And that's what happened. It's why Reiner says repeatedly that Eren was the last person in the world who should have "ended up with the power of the Coordinate". Reiner recognized that because he saw himself in Eren. He saw that same capacity for evil, for nothing more than selfish gain.

Eren knew what he was doing was wrong, he knew it wasn't justified, and he knew it wouldn't solve anything, and yet you still have people claiming that he did it because he believed it was "the only way" to save his friends. Eren flatly admits, in the end, that that isn't true, when he admits that he knew he would fail to wipe out all of humanity beyond the walls, and yet he still went through with it, and he flatly admits more than once the selfish desire at the core of his actions. He wanted to do it, he wanted to see the sight of a desolate world. His own words are confirmation of it.

The people who slander the alliance for trying to stop a genocide are beyond sick, and I don't even know what to say to people like that. They're seriously delusional. You're right, it probably should be a point of study, lol. To really look at what sort of mental delusion leads to people justifying or excusing genocidal actions.

[leviraaaaaa]

Imagine the first time Levi tells the kids that he's proud of them.

It'd be months after the war ended. Despite him retiring, the 104th kids still loved him and respected him, so he never had to be alone. There would always be someone popping by his house. Armin coming by for advice. Connie dropping by with his favourite tea. Jean visiting to rant to him about all the extra work he has to do now that he was a higher rank and a peace ambassador. Mikasa doesn't show up though, she never does.

Mikasa is the only one Levi attempts to keep in contact with. He sends her letters once a month, asking how she is. She doesn't respond, but that doesn't make him stop, just as the brats don't either.

One night, they invite him to a drink. And Levi, reluctantly, shows up.

Levi, as he is, acts indifferent to the kids and their unconditional affection for him, often acting annoyed when they show up. Even though he appreciates it greatly. And the kids know that too, so their previous Captain's unenthusiastic greetings never bothers them.

As the lot of them bicker and banter and argue, Levi watches quietly, sipping on his drink. He had been silent, as he usually is, not speaking a single word throughout the night except to order his drink and answer Armin's small talk. Connie and Jean are unbelievably noisy, both arguing over something intensely as Armin kept trying to calm them down. Usually, they'd try to be quieter in Levi's presence. They wouldn't admit it, but they were still lowkey afraid of the cold man. But tonight, they had enough to drink, and they were rowdy as fuck.

It was loud, louder than Levi would ever tolerate usually either, but he had enough to drink as well and so surprisingly it doesn't bother him as much as it would have. Instead of telling them to shut up, he listens to them absentmindedly.

"Oy, you dumbass!" He barks, "No one's going to agree with your stupid plan. You're gonna set a freaking world war again!" Connie, pissed by his interruption, jumps back to yelling at Jean again.

"So ask Captain!" Connie says loudly, "he'd agree with me! Right, captain Levi?" He turns to look at him hopefully. Levi was not listening at all. He doesn't even know what he's asking about. He stares at Connie blankly as Jean retaliates.

"..you guys.." Armin tries weekly, though his voice is meek and barely audible under the loud voices. He glanced at Levi warily, as if scared the captain was going to lose his temper.

But Levi wasn't angry. He was only mildly surprised.

"Hey, you lot..." He spoke quietly.

On cue, the bickering stopped, both Jean and Connie shutting their mouth and snapping their heads toward him, suddenly scared that they had crossed the line. But Levi only looked at them.

"Why do you still call me captain anyways," He asks, a frown on his face as he watches them with a quiet curiosity, "I haven't been that for a long time."

At this, the others fell silent. This was the last question they had expected him to ask. They glanced at each other uncomfortably, trying to figure out what to say. But what were they even supposed to answer to a question like that?

Connie and Armin muttered out soft noises of agreement. Levi stared at them for a second, his mouth slightly parted. He blinked, comsidering their words, thinking.

Jean was the first one to recover. "Sorry, cap," He grins, casually leaning back on his chair with his arms folded behind his head. "Once a captain, always a captain."

Once a captain, always a captain, huh?

Even with a fucked leg and one less eye?

He sighs. Then suddenly, look at Connie and ask, "What were you asking about?"

Connie, unable to believe his luck, stuttered for a few seconds. Then he rushed to elaborate his previous question, excitedly elaborating the point he'd referred to which was about a negotiation deal he'd suggested for the peace alliance between Marley and Paradis. And to no surprise, as Jean had said, it was horrible.

"Absolutely not," He started shaking his head before Connie could even finish, scowling disapprovingly. "Jean's right. Are you trying to start a global war again?"

Jean was absolutely gleeful. Not only had the captain directly acknowledged him, but also agreed with him. He shot a shit-eating grin at Connie who pouted. Meanwhile, Armin took the chance. It was so rare for Levi to ever join in conversations, he wanted to make the most of it. He leaned forward, his blue eyes gleaming. "What do you think about it anyways, captain Levi?" He asks eagerly. "About the peace alliance?"

Levi stared at him for a few seconds, watching the blonde boy's face light up with excitement as he waited for his response.

Suddenly, that's when it hit him. How important he was to these boys.

He thought he had lost everything when Hange and Erwin died, when the war was over, when he could no longer even stand up without a wheelchair and had to retire. He had spent days, wondering what was it, that he was still living for, what was the point of all of it? Nobody needed him anymore. Who was he if not humanity's strongest?

But he was here now, with a bunch of annoying brats who don't care that he's old and crippled, who respected him just as they had at the very beginning. They have come so far now, he thinks, further than he ever did. Then he ever could. They have changed the world. Armin was the literal commander, while he was nothing. But he still wanted acknowledgment from a man who cannot even walk on his own.

He smiled. Just barely. When had they grown so much?

It was a strange feeling, a feeling he had felt many times, though never as strongly as he did then. He felt pride. He was proud of them. Of each of them. Proud that they were his boys. Annoying fucking brats, but his boys nevertheless.

He leaned forward, reaching out to put a hand over Armin's head. Without a word, he ruffled his soft blonde hair fondly and Armin stilled, impossibly rigid, and so does the others. His soft, surprised blue eyes meet Levi's softer gray ones.

"You've done well," He tells him, his voice so gentle, uncharacteristically so. He looked at the others, "You two as well," He tells Connie and Jean, who gapes, staring at him with wide, shocked eyes.

"I'm proud of you. All of you." He says quietly. "Thank you,"

Then, he stood up, grabbed his crutch and limped off. The boys watched him confusedly, but no one stops him. They're too baffled to even speak, let alone move. Levi exits the room, and just as he does, he heard them break into murmers.

"What the fuck?" Jean was saying, struggling to get out the words, "What the fuck?"

Meanwhile, Armin sat quietly. He hadn't moved an inch. He sat in his seat completely still, still struggling to process what just happened. Jean and Connie nudged him warily, to which eh stirred slightly.

"Is his drink spiked?" Connie asks, grabbing the glass Levi had been drinking from, peering closely at the content.

"...huh?" He mumbles, his gaze unfocused.

"Nah man for real, life is so fucking unfair," Connie joins in, draping a hand over his eyes.

"You lucky bastard," Jean groans, "Why did it have to be you?"

Levi watches. He doesn't leave. He can't bring himself to leave. He leans on the doorstep, just out of view, but he's there. He listens as Connie says something and Jean bursts into laughter, Armin still stuttering over his words. He could see them from here, just a glimpse, but it's enough to make him stay.

There was a tight knot in his chest. As he was looking at them, he could almost see the others. Eren with his stupid temper and Mikasa trying to calm him down. He could almost picture Sasha gobbling down something greedily, completely unaware of the conversations going on the table. Historia would be there as well, sitting in a corner by herself, watching them with wide, curious eyes.

But there were others too. He saw Hange in there as well. They're totally drunk and giggling uncontrollably as Moblit tries to take the bottle away from them. Erwin watches them with amusement while Mike looks unamused, Nanaba was laughing her head off. They're younger here, unscathed. Hange has their eyes and Erwin has his arm. They looked happy, less tired, like they had no worries at all anymore. A scene from a life he had lost so long ago.

He sucked in a deep breath. It was loud enough for Armin to hear him. He turns around, his eyes finding Levi's.

Erwin and his blue eyes.

But when their eyes locked, he couldn't see Armin anymore. There was Erwin instead.

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

Ive had small conversations with @heph and @richardcameronshusband about this but i feel like i need to share our ideas 😔 (hope you dont mind me tagging you)

Wilson is insane man, hes like mental. This man has so many issues, hes also just a bit weird in general-. He had this kind, caring, soft exterior/demeanour but seriously, this man is a House 2.0™ on the inside. Hes insane, like clinically.

At least we know why house is like this, like insane, a drug addict- WE HAVE NO IDEA WHY WILSON IS LIKE THIS. we know absolutely nothing about his personal/family life, and honestly we never get to see his House side, this guy is just so.. Mental. His parents are mentioned twice in the whole show, at the end, with him talking to Duncan about them as he asked if he has grandparents (HEPH DONT READ THIS PART IF YOU READ THIS ‼️‼️‼️‼️) And house calling his parents, trying to tell them that wilson has cancer, they didn't answer - very unlike house to tell wilsons parents that-

(You can read again.) I have a feeling wilson isn't close with his parents/an orphan, as he doesn't talk about them and when they're mentioned he often changes the subject.

MY RAMBLES xxx 💗

[petals2fish]

Read on A03

Written for day 1 of Jily Week 2024

“How does he manage to look like that straight off his broomstick?” Lily Evans hissed to Marlene McKinnon. “It’s an absolute fuckin' tragedy!”

The girls were huddled in a corner of the common room, a short distance from the group of boys clustered by the fire, still decked out in their Quidditch gear. At the center of the chaos was James Potter, gesticulating wildly as if he were casting spells with his hands, while tiny magical figures darted around him, mimicking his every move. The only girls on the team, Fawcett and Fawn, the third-year twins, sat on the periphery, barely paying attention.

“Pay attention!” James barked at them, and they looked up, their faces a picture of remorse.

“Ugh,” Lily muttered, tilting her head towards the ceiling as if seeking divine intervention.

She had an uncharacteristically feral appreciation for the deep, resonant tone in his voice, but it seemed he almost regretted it, as he nervously ran a hand through his hair. Lily absently tugged at the ends of her frayed French braid, struggling to tear her eyes away from James and his gloriously disheveled hair. It was a love-hate relationship—she adored the glorious mess of it but loathed how it made it impossible to ignore her feelings for him.

"What’s the matter with you?" Marlene asked, barely glancing up from her Witch Weekly.

"James Potter’s the matter with me!" Lily nudged her urgently. "Just look at the state of him!"

Marlene glanced up, surveyed James, and then returned to her magazine. “He looks normal to me, Lily. See? He’s even ranting about quidditch.”

He was ranting loudly, almost everyone in the common room was watching. A few people snickered, knowing he was feeling the pressure of the upcoming match against Slytherin. It was James’ only match each year where he grew worried, not that he’d admit it out loud. 

“I’m not talking about his ranting, Marlene,” Lily huffed. “I’m talking about his hair.”

“Aye,” Marlene mused. “I told Mary McDonald that half the boys in our year need haircuts—James Potter and Sirius Black especially.”

Lily let out a strangled, but still hushed, “you want James to cut his fucking hair?! Marley?! Are you kidding me? James Potter’s hair looks like it came out of a fucking quidditch magazine. Look at it. So wavy and perfectly messed up. It’s practically hairography.”

“What the fuck is hairography?” Marlene asked as she threw herself into the spare beanbag chair behind them. 

“Like pornography, but hair.” Lily fell into the beanbag next to her. “I mean look at it. Have you ever seen a lad with better looking hair? That’s the hair of a snogging icon, I’m telling you.”

“You'd best be tellin' him that,” Marlene waved, “I can’t be bothered to care about anyone’s hair if it doesn’t come with a set of tits.”

“Just because you’re a lesbian, Marlene, doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate a man like James.” Lily shot back. 

“He’s just a boy,” Marlene said. “In two years you’ll be bored of him and his mediocre hair.”

Lily said confidently, “Nah, I bet the hair in the streets, matches the hair in the sheets.”

Marlene shot an eyebrow up. “He’s a rich nerd who happens to be good at catching a ball, Lily, I just don’t see the reason you’re so caught up on him all of a sudden.”

“No one else has that hair.” Lily sighed, placing her chin in her hand, supported by her elbow on her knee. “Or those biceps, God, remember when he used to be rail thin?!”

“He’s still a rail, he just got older.” Marlene blew her yellow bangs away from her forehead. “He’s not even conventionally attractive, not like Sirius Black. James Potter’s hair looks like a rat's nest compared to Black.”

“James’ hair looks like James just got off a broomstick.” Lily said just as James ruffled his curls, making them even messier. 

Marlene smirked before she sang, “or like he just got off you.”

Red snuck up Lily’s neck at the suggestion. “There are first years nearby, Marley.”

“You’re the one who compared his hair to porn.”

“It was just an expression,” Lily argued. “Besides, he doesn’t even fancy me like that anymore.”

Marlene actually snorted from disbelief. “Says who?”

“Says everyone,” Lily muttered with an eye roll. “The whole school was talking about how he was at Hogsmede with Tina Karloff just last weekend.” Lily’s nose scrunched up unhappily. “Remus Lupin said James took Tina to see the shrieking shack up close just to scare her. You know why he’d want to scare her? To freaking hold her hand, Marlene! It’s Boy Flirting 101! Trust me! I know boys!” 

“Everyone knows boys better than me,” Marlene winked. “But either way, you’re being a drama queen. Just because he took out another girl doesn’t mean his crush on you is gone.”

“That’s exactly what it means.” Lily crossed her arms. “He’s gone and moved on to Tina Karloff, who probably doesn’t even appreciate his hairography.” 

“What kind of name is Tina anyways?” Marlene chuckled as she reopened her magazine. “Imagine having sex with a name like that. There’s no sexy way to moan ‘Tina’ in the heat of the ‘mo.”

Lily crossed her legs as she replied, “but Tina’s a catch, Marley. Just two weeks ago I saw she had the Jezza Witch hat from Diagon Alley and she looked fuckin' amazing in it! Plus, she’s wearing a C cup bra now, according to her roommates. That is the largest in our year besides me.”

“She probably stuffs her bra with tissues.” Marlene mused wickedly. “You still have the best tits, Evans, take it from me. And they're real.” 

“Tina Karloff’s tits are real,” Lily hit her friend’s arm, “we see enough cleavage since she never buttons her shirt all the way up.” 

“How’d Tina Karloff afford a Jezza hat anyways?” Marlene asked jealously as she furiously tabbed to her lost magazine article, still caught up on Lily’s points against herself. “They’re at least five galleons! I thought Tina’s Dad worked at the misuse of the muggle artifacts department. They get paid like shit.” 

But Lily didn’t answer her friend. James Potter had stopped talking. Another member of the team had taken center stage, while the handsome Quidditch captain leaned against the fireplace, his eyes fixed on her. She squeaked and looked away as soon as their eyes met.

“Oh Merlin, Lily,” Marlene laughed, throwing her head back when she noticed who was staring. “Just go ask him for a quick snog and stop acting like a wean who’s seen the boogeyman!”

“But what if I snog him and then don’t like him anymore?”

“What?!” Marlene dropped her magazine in disbelief.

“Come on, Marlene,” Lily said. “It’d be just like Sarah Jackson. She went on and on for weeks about Amos Diggory until Amos finally took her out. Sarah told me that when he kissed her, it was like kissing a waterfall—he had so much drool, she nearly threw up right then and there. Can you blame me for being worried James Potter will be a waterfall kisser?”

“There’s no such thing as a waterfall kisser.”

“How would you know? Have you ever even kissed someone?”

Marlene shot Lily the finger. “Not many openly gay girls around for me to snog, are there Lily?”

Sheepishly Lily apologized, “sorry, Marley.” 

“Just go talk to him before I shove you into the broom closet with him,” Marlene pleaded. “And for Merlin’s sake, leave hairography out of the conversation.”

Lily groaned but got up from her spot. “Fine, I’m going,” she muttered, tossing a half-hearted glare at Marlene, who just grinned and waved her off. Lily wasn’t sure how she ended up in these situations. One moment, she was monologuing to Marlene, and the next, she was being forcefully encouraged to navigate the tangled mess of feelings in her head.

She wandered over to him from her safe bean bag chair, her heart pounding as she reached the thick of the quidditch players. And there he was, leaning against the fireplace, eyes zeroing in on her as she pushed between his two beaters so she could stand beside him. Lily felt her palms go clammy. 

What was she doing? 

But before she could turn and retreat, James smiled. 

“Hey, Evans,” he sang out, moving away from the fireplace toward her. “What’s up?”

Lily fiddled with a strand of her hair, hoping her face didn’t betray how nervous she felt. “Nothing much, just—uh…” She glanced down at her shoes, feeling ridiculous. 

“Yes?” He encouraged. 

And then, Merlin smite her, she actually said out loud, “I like your hair.”

James blinked, caught off guard. “My hair?”

Lily nodded, not daring to look at him. “Yeah. It’s… fluffy.”

He scratched the back of his head, clearly not used to being on the receiving end of compliments. A faint blush crept onto his cheeks. “Uh, thanks. I like your hair too. It’s… really nice.”

Lily finally looked up and smiled, feeling a strange warmth spread through her chest. There was something disarmingly endearing about how flustered he seemed. Maybe Marlene had been right. Maybe he did still fancy her. 

"Really?" she asked, more to fill the silence than anything.

"Yeah, really," James said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "It, uh… always looks perfect. I don’t know how you manage it."

Lily's stomach fluttered, and she let out a small laugh. "Well, I’ve got this potion..."

James grinned, his usual confidence creeping back. "Sleekeazy’s?"

Her eyes widened. "How’d you know?"

His grin grew even wider. "That’s the hair potion my dad invented."

"No way!" Lily gaped at him, incredulous. "You’re full of dragon shit."

James chuckled, ruffling his famously messy hair. "No joke. Dad’s been trying to tame this wild mane his whole life, and passed it down to me."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "And what’s your excuse for the hurricane you call hair? Don’t you use the potion?"

“Nah.” James leaned in closer, his nose almost brushing hers. "I embrace the chaos."

Lily’s breath caught as James leaned in, the warmth between them almost tangible. For a moment, her mind went blank, thoughts of excellent hairography and disastrous snogging vanishing entirely. Instead, she found herself hyper-aware of his closeness—the gold in his eyes, the crooked smirk on his lips. He had freckles dotting his nose from the summer sun. She’d never noticed that before. 

"Is that so?" she managed, her voice softer than she intended.

"Mhm," James murmured, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips before flicking back up to her eyes. "Keeps things interesting, don’t you think?"

Her heart raced, but she refused to let him see her nerves. Instead, she smiled. "I suppose it does."

For a brief moment, the air between them crackled with something unspoken, almost charged with a deeper connection. But before it could escalate, a hand landed on both of their shoulders, and they jumped in surprise. Sirius grinned widely between them.

"Sorry!" he said, squeezing Lily's shoulder and shooting James a mischievous look. "Just... checking in."

James groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Sirius."

Lily bit her lip, quickly averting her gaze as Sirius eyed her with a knowing smirk, clearly wondering what was happening between them.

"Well," she said, straightening up and trying to hide her growing blush, "I should probably get going. But... thanks for the chat."

Peeking out from behind his fingers, James half-waved. "I’m down to discuss hair anytime, Evans.”

Sirius tugged on Lily’s braid mischievously. “Has he told you that he has a thing for redheads?”

“Oh, I think Marlene is calling me.” Lily squeaked, making her untimely departure as swiftly as possible. “Bye!”

As she pulled away from Sirius' grip, a wave of relief and embarrassment washed over her. Maybe things with James weren’t as complicated as she thought. Yet, judging by the disapproving glance James threw at Sirius, it was obvious he had more he wanted to say. She wondered if he did actually have a thing for redheads. 

She cast a glance over her shoulder just as James wrestled Sirius into a headlock, Sirius’ laughter echoing loudly. James looked up and caught her eye just in time. She offered a soft smile, and he smiled back, releasing Sirius so abruptly that the troublemaker crashed to the floor with a yelp. She waved once more, feeling a flutter in her stomach that she couldn't quite ignore when James waved back. Something very much like butterflies danced inside her as she nervously twisted her red braid, considering that maybe she’d find another reason to speak to him again soon. 

Or maybe she’d just back him up into an alcove when no one was looking, kiss him, and finally run her fingers through that magnificent hair of his. If Sirius black was right, he’d probably enjoy tangling up in her hair as well. Lily smiled to herself. 

Hairography, indeed.

[marley-manson]

me after watching and reading a few essays about the pain of womanhood and its ubiquitous depiction in media: save me xena... xena... xena save me...

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Outrun the Future - G.Cleven Ch 8

A/N: The story is starting to pick up. I apologize in advance...

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

War felt both fast and slow at the same time. The missions were increasing, but their impact seemed less and less significant. The days bled into each other, with the distant promise of an end becoming a fragile hope instead of an expectation. The thought of surviving long enough to see the war over had shifted from something they all believed in, to something they silently clung to in the quietest moments.

The bombers complained about their own struggles: cramped, vulnerable machines and perilous skies, but in truth, their missions were fewer than the fighters'. The fighter pilots like Captain Egan had it worse, running constant sorties with barely a break between them.

Marley had woken up that morning with a sense of quiet excitement, eager to get back into the sky. It had been a little over a week since her last mission, and while she was glad for the rest, the feeling of being grounded had started to gnaw at her.

The morning air was crisp, as it usually was at this hour, but today it had a particular clarity, the kind that made the world feel sharply defined, as though everything had been polished overnight. The sky above was an endless canvas of blue, with barely a cloud in sight. It was the kind of morning that promised perfect flying weather—a calm, clear day that felt like an invitation to take to the skies.

She quietly pulled on her flight gear, each piece fitting into place with a sense of routine and certainty. Her hands moved with practiced precision, though a small part of her was already thinking ahead to what the day would bring. The war was grinding on, the missions becoming more frequent, but the end—whatever that would look like—still felt too far away. It was a thought she pushed aside.

As she stepped outside, the cold air bit at her skin, but the invigorating chill helped clear her mind. She glanced toward the runway, where she knew Sparky would be preparing his own plane. They’d be flying together again today, and the thought of it brought a small smile to her face.

Marley took a step towards her plane and then hesitated. Her brothers’ rants on not saying goodbye were playing like a monologue in her head. Letting out a sigh, she switched directions and walked to her brother’s bunk.  

It was still dark inside when a knock on the door pulled Major Egan from his restless sleep. He groggily turned to check the time, his eyes squinting against the faint, early morning light creeping through the window. “Who the hell is knocking this early?” he muttered, pushing himself out of bed with a sigh. As he stood up, Major Cleven stirred awake as well, rubbing his eyes.

John opened the door and found his younger sister, Marley, standing there in full flight gear. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” she teased, stepping past him into the shared quarters without waiting for an invitation. Her arrival had ruffled Gale, who was sitting up in bed, and she couldn’t help but notice his bare chest. Marley quickly looked away, a faint blush creeping up her neck as she redirected her attention back to John.

“Already heading back up?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Marley gave a quick nod. “Yeah, they said it’s supposed to be a routine flight. Nothing too risky. I figured I’d stop by to say goodbye before you start complaining all day.”

John grunted but said nothing. Her gaze flickered over to Gale, who was now standing beside the bed in only his boxers. John saw her eyeing her his friend, and he snapped his fingers in front of her face. “Quit checking him out while he’s getting dressed and tell me about the mission.”

“I don’t know much,” Marley replied, momentarily distracted by the familiar, comforting atmosphere between them. “Just a quick hop over France, then back. I think another group’s making a drop somewhere, but they didn’t give us the full details.”

John’s eyes fell on the scar on her head, a reminder of how close they’d come to losing her in the past few weeks. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, something he did when he was worried. Marley had just been cleared to fly again after a head injury, much to his displeasure.

“Just be careful, Mar. Please,” he said, his voice soft but filled with the kind of raw concern that only family could bring out.

She leaned in, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace, holding him longer than usual, as if to reassure him that everything would be okay. “I always am,” she replied quietly, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

Reluctantly, she stepped back and turned to Gale. “Try to keep him in line while I’m gone.”

He chuckled and nodded his head, pulling her into him. He gave her a quick kiss on the head and let go. “Keep your head up and eyes open. They won’t know what hit them.”

She smiled, the warmth of his words calming her nerves, before turning back to her brother. “I’ll see you boys later.”

She walked to the door, leaving behind the faint scent of her flight suit and the heavy, bittersweet weight of her goodbye. As she closed the door behind her, John slowly sank back down onto the bed, the quiet pressing in on him.

“You ever get that feeling,” he said to Buck, his voice barely above a whisper, “that something bad is about to happen?”

Buck didn’t answer at first, but he didn’t need to. He knew exactly what John meant. Marley had never come to say goodbye before. That, combined with the fact that the mission seemed "easy"—too easy—had his instincts on edge. It was a feeling that every soldier had experienced at least once in their career, that nagging premonition of a storm on the horizon.

The two men sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, they got up to start their day, but neither of them could shake the sense of unease that hung heavy in the air.

The day dragged on, the hours blending together as the constant hum of war seemed to fill every corner of the base. The talk of another mission was already floating around, carried by whispers between the pilots and ground crew. Everyone knew it was coming—it always was. There was always another target to hit, another sortie to fly. Some of the men seemed to relish it, the adrenaline, the thrill of the skies, but for others, the joy had started to fade long ago. The reality of what they were facing, the possibility of being shot down in enemy territory, had a way of souring the love of flight. No one who had survived a crash in hostile land ever looked at the sky the same way again.

John had been granted a few days' leave—an unexpected reprieve in the middle of the madness. It was rare, but when it happened, it felt like a small victory. He was already thinking about what to do with the time. London. The very thought of it seemed surreal. He’d never imagined he’d have the chance to visit the city, let alone during a war. But now, with a few days to himself, the idea was enticing. Missing one mission wouldn’t be the end of the world, he reasoned. He figured he’d ask Marley if she wanted to go with him.

But as the hours wore on and the sun began its slow descent, the thought of the mission still hung in the air like a weight. The fighters had left hours ago, and everyone knew that the flight there and back should have taken time than that.

John glanced at his watch again, brow furrowing. The silence between him and Buck in the jeep had grown heavy. The two men sat in the front, staring out across the airfield as they waited for the planes to return. The noise of the base had died down somewhat as everyone went about their business, a quiet that felt almost unnatural in the midst of the chaos. But something in the air was different today—there was a stillness that set John’s nerves on edge.

Another hour passed.

John exchanged a look with Buck, but neither of them said anything. They didn’t need to. The longer they waited, the more certain they became. There was a gnawing suspicion creeping in, a feeling neither of them wanted to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore.

The planes should have been back by now.

"Maybe they're delayed," Buck offered, his voice low and flat. He didn’t sound convinced, and John knew it. Both of them had seen enough to recognize when something wasn’t right.

"Yeah," John muttered, glancing out over the runway again, scanning the horizon. The airfield was quiet, too quiet. No distant rumble of engines, no shape of fighters returning through the haze of twilight. Just the occasional rustle of wind against the grass.

As the minutes ticked on, that gnawing suspicion became a quiet certainty.

John’s stomach tightened. With every second that passed without word from the fighters, his gut twisted with something darker. The realization was slowly setting in, heavy and undeniable.

The planes hadn’t come back.

Tag List: probabydeadbynow, affabletimelady, gilli-vanilli, bellesdreamyprofile

[hernakedmuse]

Lily J. Evans is a blanket hoarder

She has so many blankets she has bought, made, and received

If she's anywhere with a comfy seat she's got a blanket somewhere with her or on her even in the summer.

She loves to wrap everyone in blankets as well

"Marley, lovey, isn't a bit cold, sweets?" She would ask in typical Lily fashion, with her Welsh twined Northern English accent and at least two pet names pouring out of her lips.

They all smell like her too, fruity and floral and sweet.

Regulus will never admit that the first time in the dungeons, when she did it to him, he cried that night. To be touched so tenderly was not something he was familiar with, and when she did this it was before he knew James had feelings for him.

He was so deep into writing his essay, he didn't hear her approach him, but Lily moves like a gazelle.

He felt warm, soft weight wrap him in a protective cocoon, and looked down to a deep emerald throw made of yarn and delicate, lilac-colorer nailed fingers doing the job. "It's so drafty down here, you're shivering, I told Panda that it's hard to get anything done down here with the cold-- well youve got yourself one of these now-- oh stay, I'll be right back with a nice cuppa for you!"

When Lily spoke, it was like a beautiful, musical run on, ranting sentence, she sounded like she was talking to herself more than you but at the same time you felt seen you felt heard.

She noticed him.

He's very sure that her blankets are made with literal magic, maybe laced with powdered Amortentia...

[attack-on-titan-confessionss]

Tr: "I feel like people overlook the warriors too much! They all chalk up their reasoning for joining the warrior unit as indoctrination from Marley, but that's just not true (other than with Reiner). Annie did it because of her father forcing her, Pieck had a sick father to care for amd said that she trusts her comrades not Marley, Bertholdt also persumably joined because of a sick father, Porco and Marcel probably didn't do it for Marley because as Porco said to Reiner "Anyone could talk good about Marley" okay long rant over I just got tired of seeing people misconstrude my berty..."