It’s extremely fucked up that some ppl try to make you feel stupid and immature for hoping for a better world. You say you want world peace and mfs think you need a pacifier; dawg, I just don’t want ppl dying from violence. This idea that ppl simply must die as casualties of war is misanthropic to say the least.
I love early seasons supernatural aesthetics so much. The isolated highways, funky motel rooms, neon signs, shiny guns and shiny cars, leather jackets, old books, through a film camera lens in seasons one and two, makes for such a specific atmosphere. It transfers the isolation Sam and Dean experience so well, cramped into the seats of a 67’ Chevy impala, claustrophobically un-alone while individually lonely. The nasty, sometimes created with horrible special effects, monsters really do look monstrous, unsettling more than outright terrifying. With yellow eyes, in dirty clothes, glitching and pale. The whole colour palette is grey-ish and cold, you almost feel the contrasted darkness, the distrust, the nagging belief that something wicked may be hiding behind every corner, behind every corner of your own self as well. Idk. The blood looks dark, the sulfur looks sickeningly yellow, the skin looks unnaturally pale. It’s all so horror-coded, and gives such an atmosphere of instability in your own existence in the world, which aligns with the themes of the seasons. This atmosphere, to me, makes it a better horror show than if it had had better special effects and scarier monsters. Because the horrifying is in the daily existence, in how you are, rather than what you face.
That's why early seasons were the best. The atmosphere, and the aesthetics alone were most of the draw. The later seasons just couldn't pull off the effect anymore, they lost something. It no longer felt like a horror show.
I love you sirius black who leans back in chairs and who is confident in his intelligence. I love you sirius black who has a flying motorcycle and who wanted to take harry away from godric’s hollow and raise him as his own son and i love you sirius black who left harry with hagrid, gave him his motorcycle and left to avenge his best friend. I love you sirius black who was the first person to escape from azkaban, without anyone’s help, and swimming across the north sea, fuelled by vengeance and fury. I love you sirius black who missed doing crosswords. I love you sirius black who watched harry’s quidditch matches as a dog and was reminded of james. I love you sirius black who was ready to kill peter for betraying his friends. I love you sirius black who was friends with both crookshanks and buckbeak. I love you sirius black who lived in a cave and ate rats just to be close to harry and was delighted when they brought him chicken meat and pumpkin juice. I love you sirius black who was sarcastic and had bouts of sadness being locked up in his childhood home yet still being a paternal figure to harry. I love you sirius black who wanted to tell the children as much as he could because he wanted them to know what was happening. I love you sirius black who left grimmauld place turned into a dog just to accompany them to king’s cross. I love you sirius black who towered over severus snape. I love you sirius black who took care of the weasleys and harry after arthur’s attack and cooked for them and reassured them. I love you sirius black who was the happiest when the house he had to stay in was filled with people. I love you sirius black who sang carols. I love you sirius black who affectionately remembered how james used to ruffle his hair because he had forgotten. I love you sirius black who, in harry’s vision, told voldemort he would have to kill him before telling him anything. I love you sirius black
Remus Lupin was NOT the casanova of the gryffindor tower. His friends only called him that JOKINGLY because he was friends with the girls that asked him help with their homework cause he’s nice and quiet. That man was a loser and a nerd (affectionate) with zero pull
summary: when James moves into your apartment, you need a bit of an adjustment period
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1k words
You go downstairs the way a meerkat pokes its head out of its burrow. Cautious, watchful. When you spot James standing over a sizzling pan in the kitchen, it’s a bit of effort not to sigh, but you go anyway, hunger temporarily taking priority over solitude. It’s just going to have to be another quick meal.
“Hey.” James looks up from a recipe he’s reading on his phone, grinning at you.
You press your lips together in a smile of response. The girl who’d occupied James’ room before him wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge you, and frankly, you’d liked her for that. You’d had a mutually ambivalent relationship; you’d both paid your rent, ignored the other’s food in the fridge, and gone about your days as if you each had the apartment to yourself. She had to move out because the maintenance crew tattled on her for having a pet, and though James only moved in a week ago, he’s invited you to hang out with his friends every time they’ve come over. Which is often. (He’s at least considerate enough to always ask first, and you always say yes. Partially because they don’t make huge messes and partially because you don’t know how to reply to a yes/no question any other way.)
You go to the fridge, tearing the aluminum foil off a half-empty can of beans and shaking it into a bowl. You put it in the microwave. James reaches to turn down the stove, and, like a frightened animal, you flinch away from him. He doesn’t seem to notice, only retreating to the opposite counter to give you more room.
“How’s your day going?” he asks, leaning back on his forearms.
“Not bad,” you say. Another thing about James is that in addition to his relentless geniality, he’s ferociously attractive. It takes all of your willpower not to let your eyes dip from his face to where his short sleeves conform to his biceps when he leans that way, but your face heats regardless. “Yours?”
“Pretty good, actually.” He smiles easily. “It’s gorgeous out, have you felt the weather?”
You shake your head. “I haven’t been out yet.”
James nods like he knows this already, humming noncommittally. You think you spy a bit of judgment in his look, but you can’t be sure. “So,” he says, “I have something to ask you.”
You tense. “Okay…”
“I know you value your privacy, and I totally respect that, but I feel like as your roommate it’s my responsibility to at least ask.”
You feel your eyes narrowing as you nod for him to continue.
James schools his face into seriousness, a frown on his lips that looks like it doesn’t belong. “Do you not eat?”
You laugh, relieved and bemused. “Of course I eat.”
The smile he gives you is strained, clearly for your benefit rather than his. “You sure about that? Because this morning I just saw you have one—one—piece of toast for breakfast, and then for lunch you had…what?”
You shy, more because of his notice than anything else. The microwave beeps and you use it as an excuse to turn around. “Some cheese and crackers.”
When you pivot with the steaming bowl, James is looking at you incredulously.
“They’re really filling!”
“That’s a snack, love, not a meal. Both of those are snacks. Did you have anything else?”
You hold up the bowl in your hand. “I’m about to have some beans.”
His laugh is monosyllabic. Appalled. “You’re not serious.”
You roll your eyes at him even as your face heats. “Listen, it’s not my most nutritious day, but I’ve been in a rush, and…” You were going to say more, but decide against it. “Anyway, there’s protein in the beans, so.”
James isn’t having it. “And what?”
“Nothing.”
“Something.” He raises his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, spill, or I’m going to call your mum and tell her about your big day of—“ He draws quotes in the air, full lips curving he does “—beans and crackers.”
“And toast,” you joke. James’ smile is small and short-lived. Does he really have your mum’s phone number? He can’t possibly.
You sigh. “Okay, it’s nothing to do with you, but I…I’m a bit weird about being in the kitchen at the same time.” James’ thick eyebrows meet in the middle, and your shoulders hunch instinctively but you force yourself to finish explaining. “I just want to grab whatever is quickest and go before I make things awkward, or something. But I know it’s stupid.” You shake your head. You could burn the apartment to cinders with the heat from your face. “I don’t own the kitchen. You have every right to be here, and I’ll get used to it eventually. It’s just that you’re new to me right now.”
James' expression clears. “Oh, you’re shy.”
You must look even more embarrassed at that, because he hurries to say, “That’s alright, it’s good to know how you feel about things. And now I don’t have to call your mum.” He grins, and it widens when you make a tiny effort to reciprocate. “I don’t mind stepping out of the kitchen so you can cook every now and then.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“It’s no trouble.” He waves you off. “Honestly, it’s too small for both of us to comfortably use at the same time anyway. Careful by the way, that pan’s hot.”
You glance behind you, and you’ve backed yourself nearly into the stove. You move away, squeaking out a thanks.
James’ smile softens. “I do hope you're right about getting used to me eventually, though.” He gives you a kind look, and you have no idea how he can maintain eye contact with that much sincerity in his big brown eyes. You envy the skill. “I’d like to get to be friends, but we’ve got time for that.”
You’ve no clue how to respond, some deer-in-the-headlights instinct taking ahold of you, but James doesn’t seem to be expecting one. He reaches out to squeeze your shoulder, taking back his place at the stove. You take that as your cue to go.
dam…….. that website “you feel like shit” (it’s like a questionnaire / troubleshooting guide for when you feel like shit) really works………………….. im not even all the way thru it and i even half-assed a lot of the suggestions and i already feel loads better
ship james with whoever you want but nothing is gonna hit as hard as jily does. bc james chose to walk right into war, james chose to risk his life because being with lily was worth risking everything.
annaxmalina
snowghoul
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
discoholicmusic
dededos
areudirty
origamiaround
