new perspective

indie multi by kayla / sideblog to fightwing

[loyaltieas]

kayla bring back james potter and ship with me challenge

are u asking me to get back onto james pott.er on OCTOBER 28TH here lemme just give u this and save us both some time

[isjustice-deactivated20210510]

@loyaltieas​​ can’t sue me for emotional damages now

the sun shines brightly above the sky, bringing warmth to the quiet city. the scene that plays out in the middle of the city is one to behold; passing citizens pause to take it in, some even pulling out their phones to snap a quick picture, and barry can’t blame them. after all, it’s not every day you see your city’s heroes sitting on the side of the street with post-fight hotdogs in their hands. the morning had been spent dealing with the rogues who had decided that robbing a bank was a good way to spend their day. dealing with them didn’t take long, and after the dust had settled and the ice courtesy of captain cold had melted, there was nothing left to do but to eat some well-deserved hot dogs   (  after the usual flurry of pictures and autographs from the people around them  )

❝  so,  ❞   scarlet elbow nudges the young boy next to him, the beginnings of a smile forming in the corners of his lips.   ❝  how’s the team doing ?   getting along with the new members ?  ❞

[loyaltieas]

                      wally swings his legs out a little bit as his fingers skate over their next prospect. even before the whole lightning bolt of power, he could dutifully pack away enough to feed a small family, and with the uhhh   ENHANCEMENTS   he’s broadened his appetite to that of a small country. it was nice, to have   that   to share with barry. the only other person who could keep up was conner, and he decidedly didn’t like wally’s little   ‘race ya for the last piece’?   schitck. uncle barry was cool like that, though. it’s a bright shiny day, they put the rogues away in lightning fast   (ha!)   time, and what’s more is they did it with time to kill. and time spent with his uncle was definitely well spent.                   wally suppresses the urge to wince at that. it’s not   TECHNICALLY   anything bad, but he’s avoiding the cave because he knows artemis is expecting an apology wally would rather take an improv class with batman than give. it wasn’t even his fault! totally situational, and yet wally still felt that little twist in his gut of regret. he didn’t   MEAN   to say the things he did it was just something about her that had his mind working like a vintage atari suspended in water.  

                 “ they’re good. kickin ass, takin’ names. you know the drill. ”              he says instead, licking his fingers grossly to mark his point. they actually really haven’t done much BESIDES training up the new recruits. zatanna already kind of knew the ins and outs, and bee was a fast learner. they all had their particular brands of fighting to teach, and seeing as how wally was usually apart of the last meta mission, he had some time between assignments to just take a breath of fresh air. and, maybe, do a little recon.        “ how’s the league? are they still uhhh, mad about that san jose thing? ”

[loyaltieas]

@isjustice wally blog now :(

                    wally west hated slowing down.       he hated that stutter of steps that marked indecision, that brief moment of confusion between one thought and the next, the space between thinking and doing.           if he was being honest with himself, really, he just hated   standing still.   and maybe that was the next lesson in dante’s inferno: that everyone’s hell is personal. because the speed force isn’t like standing still. standing still in space still means   TIME   is flowing, no the speed force was like   NOTHING.   doing, having, and BEING nothing. sometimes, wally wondered if they remembered him at all.                        and wally considered himself a relatively sane guy, but there was no doubt it was driving him insane. even now, he’s curled up, clutching his head and desperately trying to count the seconds.   math   makes sense, right? maybe that was all the speed force is, one big equation and wally just has to   FIGURE IT OUT   to leave. (whichever side of the door that means). he’d tried running until his legs gave out, he’d tried kicking, and fighting, and graciously debating with the infinite void and all that ever happened is he fed to the static void. MATH had to be the answer, because the only other possibility was that THIS was it, for however long infinity is, and that was not something he was willing to accept yet.                                he’s so wrapped up between 1,236 and 1,237 that he doesn’t hear it. the first sound he’s heard in both years and seconds combined into the ultimately phantom feeling of surprise. it has his finger moving only slightly, enough for one green eye to peer between his fingers and for the picture to damn near stop his heart          (again--- ha!).           it’s a breath. a whisper of a question caught in the stillness of the void. wally knows he’s hallucinating, maybe the last step between he and the river styx or whatever but he can’t help the little hope that bubbles in his throat as he asks begs the mirage:                “ uncle barry? ”

[loyaltieas]

appleyed​

  🌿           𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐲,  𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚. andromeda sends about a million thank - you prayers a day for the fact that she’s not caught up in all that mess.   (  she’s perfecty happy watching from afar,  for your information,  and even then she only spares a very confused glance over all this ruckus.  it’s not her business.  )   she blinks in surprise as penelope drops into the seat next to her,  eyebrow quirking as she listens.  brown eyes travel down to the mug of tea in her hands before pushing it in front of penelope.     “ some caffeine might help ? ”

                penelope’s lips twitch happily at the comment, one eye peaking out from behind her hands to see who she had even stumbled upon.   OH.   the southern witch. star something.                     “ it’s not a physical headache. ”            penelope replied sarcastically, smiling as she took the proffered mug. it’s probably best the school doesn’t have a drama club--- everyone here thinks they’re the fucking main character.         “ and i don’t think there’s enough caffeine in the world for this school. ”

[thecobaltmonk]

flirt with your eyes

[withloveresources]

Within this pack you will find base icons for the beautiful Lulu Antariksa from Legacies as Penelope Park. The bases are 75px by 75px and sharpened.

Terms & Conditions:

Please give this post a like/reblog if you found it useful.

Please credit me for my bases if you choose to use these.

You may edit these to your hearts desire!

Google Drive link

[loyaltieas]

@appleyed​ gets this bc ur an enabler 

                 one day   alyssa chang   was going to get what was coming to her. hell, maybe   PENELOPE   will be that person, lord knows how satisfying that would be, but today  .  .    . she’s far too tired. take classes, the general draining attributes of magic, and the constant drama of salvatore’s whiniest and the sum of those parts creates one   PERFECTLY   cured headache. still poised as ever, penelope sinks into the chair for her next class--- not bothering knowing who she’s speaking to   (please don’t be a saltzman).           “ fuck, i have such a headache. ”

[appleyed-arch]

@loyaltieas​    said:   “ don’t be so dramatic. ”

🌿             “ 𝐢 —– ”     𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 is far beyond a gasp ;  she musters every extra ounce of theatrics into it just for his sake.     “ —- amnotbeingdramatic !  he’s missing,  ‘m tellin’ you. ”     she blinks a few more times at james,  as if he should be just as astonished as her.     “ mister bogs wasn’t in the hallway today,  and he’s always waiting in the hall because he knows when i come out of the library i scoop up some flies from the windowsill for him.  he’s a frog,  he’s not stupid. ”  

  it’s the frog’s third time disappearing,  despite their routine meetings ;  she’s beginning to think he’s just off doing frog business.   (  so what if he’s just a frog ?  she’s gotten upset about some truly horrendous boys ;  james should be happy she’s worked up over an actual toad this time.  the frog in question weighs less than an ounce and there are too many owls roaming around hogwarts for her comfort :  his disappearance warrants at least a bit of worry in her opinion.  )   she huffs a sigh.     “ and besides,  you’re one to talk.  y’know,  i think you flock to overly - dramatic people on purpose.  ‘s your mother - hen instincts. ”

meme.     accepting.

[loyaltieas]

                  james finishes the last touches on his forgery, marveling slightly, preening massively at his true genius splotched on bland parchment. he blows on the ink so it dries faster.  oh he’ll get a pretty galleon for this. maybe more, just cause sirius thinks its funny.         “ maybe he’s toad-aly had it. ”         he says, eyes roaming over his masterpiece before going up to see the inevitable applause. whatever, the best audience is always yourself.                    james laughs at that last part, satisfied enough to start packing up his things. it’s late in the common room, and the marauders have probably already gotten their share of the kitchens. james would join them, had the slight about his choice in friends not garnered his interests.                  “ oi! i flock to rational, level-headed   .  .  .  ”        he thinks about the lie as he says it for a second, and frankly how boring he would be if that were true.      “   INTERESTING   people. ---and hold up, they flock to ME, dromeda, don’t get it twisted. ”

[loyaltieas]

proditeur‌ / @doepatronused​

              Regulus knows the moment James takes his hand that he’s going with him; that he no longer has a choice. Pulling away and protesting will lose precious seconds of the time they already don’t have—and he knows now that he’s been seen. He knows that his family is in danger. He knows that he’s in danger (but the reality is, he hardly cares about that). 

              He knows that he’s going to have to face his brother when all of this is over.

              The flurry of light and color interrupts his thoughts; their pursuers fill the hall behind them and to James’ credit, he’s got good aim. Between him and Regulus they manage to stay the oncoming masked figures just enough but a stumble in James’ step—their hands still entwined—tells him that James has been hit. Suddenly there’s a little more weight leaning into his hand and Regulus moves closer, halfway between tagging along and now trying to support his wounded ally; but he can’t do more than that. James is going to disapparate. James is going to take me with him, he thinks, and a rush of panic rises in his chest. He imagines the collection of Order members, old and young, forming a circle of distrust around him and pointing blame for James’ capture and injury. He imagines his brother sitting outside the room, refusing to see him, refusing to look at the traitor that tried to kill his friend. He imagines Alastor Moody’s swift and unforgiving arrest and he wonders what sort of trial he’ll really receive. He is an enemy of the state. 

              But he can’t stop it. James won’t release his hand and if he disapparates on his own they’ll both be spliced. There’s no time to argue, no time to ask questions, no time to beg.

              There is time enough only to place his complete faith in James Potter.

              They reach the line and the horrible, nauseating twist in his belly signals that they’re disapparating. The cold halls of the building that was James’ prison melt away and with them go the lights and the sounds of rueful screaming, shouts of TRAITOR! DESERTER! and the cacophony of betrayed rage.

              In comes the nearby sound of a hooting owl and the taste of dirt. Regulus’ hand is free now and it takes him a half moment to orient his senses to their new setting. A pleasant little village. A quiet night. Poor, unfortunate flowers crushed under his knees. “James—” he flicks his eyes to James’ squirming form and crawls two steps towards him when a door opens… and a familiar face walks out.

              She ignores him at first—and it’s just as well because all he manages to do is stare with his stupid mouth half open and his fingers buried in the dirt. Oh, the crocuses, that’s what I’ve crushed, he notices, but she’s fussing over James and he’s wondering what, if anything, he should say to her.

              “Evans.”

              He could’ve done better than that. Damn, he hasn’t spoken to her in over a year and it’s like he’s forgotten how! “There’s… he’s—” hurt, which she knows. “You should go inside.” Where it was safer. “I’ll…”

              Regulus rises to his feet and offers a careful look around the street. It’s a quaint, comfortable village and he knows where they are but he can feel the effects of the fidelius charm on his tongue. He can never speak of this place to another soul—though, he would never do so even if he could.

              “I ought to go.” 

                    FUCK,   FUCK,   FUCK.                there’s essentially two trains of thoughts that are currently crashing together in his brain.   FUCK:   he shouldn’t have brought them to the safe house. after all, that’s the whole point in having a secret keeper, is that only three people could ever access it.   HARRY   is inside, and while james--- maybe foolishly has placed his trust in regulus, there is no way to know they didn’t trace them.   FUCK pt.2: how the hell is he going to explain regulus’ being here when he can’t even stand on his own? he’d severely underestimated the severity of the cut and is now alternating between sinking to his knees and leaning all of his weight on lily. he’d made the decision in a freedom-lusted, blood-loss haze and now he was still too weak to defend it.                        “ lil  .  .  .   ”           he took a deep breath, panicked the patronus was already on its way to alastor’s office.                “ i can explain. ”          he groaned, deep pain ricocheting throughout his body stemming from his right side and yet through the blur of pain only one thought was coherent: i hope it wasn’t bellatrix. he’d take being hit over dying any day of the week, but if it was that cackling witch that finally beat him he’d have a very unpeaceful afterlife. was it petty? without a doubt, but well, that’s where he’s at these days. it wasn’t like she’d made sure he was   COMFORTABLE   in captivity.        “ i can explain. ”            he’s struggling--- both to get the words out and to stand on his own but he needs to explain.                           “ regulus saved my life --- please, just let us explain before you call the order. ”           regulus saved his life. harry still has a father, lily a husband all thanks to regulus black and james will stop at nothing to give him what he deserves. 

[loyaltieas]

cont from here / @goldensaviour​ 

                        james sighed. a breath of air that hit the closed door in front of him and greeted him as perhaps the only thing on his side.   SIRIUS   was team bring harry in.   MOLLY   was adamant a child had no place in this war, alastor argued harry was wasting time at hogwarts, and james? james just really wanted harry   OUT OF IT.   he should let it lie. he should give them time to cool down, sit together, and properly talk this ou-----                             “ harry james potter! ”          james yelled, trailing after his son and accidentally slamming the same door in much the same fashion. considering this creepy shell of a haunted black manor was now the order’s headquarters, it was highly likely everyone and their mothers   (literally)   were listening in. james didn’t much care.            “ this is to   PROTECT   you! you’re not ready, and frankly--- that’s a good thing! ”          he’d seen too much, been apart of enough. as a list? he’d gone hand to hand with voldemort, found the chamber of secrets, fought the biggest traitor to ever live, became the fucking triwizard champion in the wake of a peer’s untimely death where the essence of his mother saved him----- and to top it all off, he and james have never known a true home. not when death eaters were constantly nipping at their heels, harry potter has   NEVER   been allowed the life he deserved. james’ whole purpose in life was to   S A V E   his   SON,   and he was failing.                “ you wanna know what your   ‘assignment’   is? pass your o.w.l.s. get a crush. fail an exam. get a damn detention--- i don’t care just   LET ME HANDLE THIS, okay?   i want you to have a   NORMAL   life “        sure it all sounds good if they were to be having a calm, controlled conversation. it’s a little bit more subjective when he’s matching his sons heat.             “ ENJOY IT. “

[masterofdeath]

——-      𝚒 𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚢𝚎 (      𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙧      )

[loyaltieas]

it's james' birthday and because he has such a wonderful friend he can wake up to a bed full of honeyduke's best confectionery (including some items sirius is 100% sure james doesn't like so they'll be left over for him, but only a few, this is james' big day after all xx) / @marawrder​ 

                         there’s a distinct   CRINKLE   when he shifts over in his bed--- and any other day he’d likely wake in a distraught frenzy of   ‘shit, what did we do last night’   and   ‘how quickly can i discard the evidence’   . but he can smell the sweetness as he nearly faceplants into it, and rather than really address it, he simply moves to sit up in his bed, grabbing his glasses from their perch on the nightstand, and flick one of the disgusting little caramel pieces he knows his friend likes over to his bed. remus and peter are still sleeping like the dead, and it’s likely they’ll remain that way until it’s time for breakfast, but james still lowers his voice regardless.         “ do i look older? do you sense a newfound maturity rolling off me in inspirational waves? you know, i feel the beginnings of a beard starting, and if dumbledore can rock the look, i think i might just take my chances. ”

[loyaltieas]

"You're... hm. You know—... hm. There's something that I—... /hm/." It takes him a while to get it out, whatever it is he's trying to say; and his expression twists into something more uncomfortable with each attempt. His eyes are shifty, his lips are pursed, and when finally he manages to collect himself well enough to speak, he says it in such a rush that it's only /barely/ intelligible at all, "I've started thinking of you as a friend don't make a fuss over it happy birthday." / @proditeur​

                      james watches with an amused eyebrow, and the slightest of smirks tugging at the corner of his lips. harry is currently fascinated with a little taxi cab he is mindlessly running up and down his father’s torso as james holds him, and all else seems to stand still as regulus black delivers what seems to be his first compliment ever.              “ no, no by all means don’t let me stop you. what were you saying about me being the greatest man--- nay,   person   you’ve ever known and how, truthfully you have never met a man so handsome, charming, etcetera? i left my friendship bracelets upstairs, but i can run and get them, if you’d prefer to have this conversation properly suited? ”

[thematicallycoherent]

A portrait for our deerly behooved’s birthday

[loyaltieas]

Sirius: Good question, Prongs.

James: [to Lily] How come you don't point out when I ask good questions?

Lily: I don't love you like he does.

Sirius: Told you.

[thelovelylights]

#everytime someone looks at Carla *mark me down as scared and horny* 

[loyaltieas]

proditeur‌ / @doepatronused​

              I can’t, he wants to say, but there’s no time to explain the many reasons why. He’s never been able to convince his brother and he doubts he’ll have more success with James. In fact, he has a hard enough time convincing himself that the family that does not deserve him still deserves to be saved.

              “… One or two of them.” He can’t be clearer because he doesn’t know. It’s better, he finds, if he doesn’t put numbers to the names and indeed there are only a few names he really cares about at all—his brother, his brother’s friends. 

              Regulus is halfway out the door when James implores him again and he turns a frown over his shoulder, ignoring the pacing footsteps upstairs and motioning towards the end of the hall, “I know my chances if I leave. And to lose, I have everything that I haven’t already lost.” Which was a lot, despite what Sirius would say; the safety of an entire family rested on his shoulders.

              A murmur of voices interrupted his thoughts and the footsteps above them reached the opposite wall, to the staircase leading down to where James had been kept. “Fuck—come on, then!” he hissed and reached a door at the end of the hall; the passage lead to the back lawn and if they made it quickly enough, James could get out, “That window there, if you make it a few yards beyond it you can disapparate—you’ll want to be getting back to Sirius so you can tell him all about his baby brother, I’m sure.” 

                     WELL,   no one ever said james potter was the patron saint of patience. he’s vaguely aware, in the back of his mind in that thoughtless hurried crazed that only ever breeds insanity--- that this one event will change   EVERYTHING.   making it to the order means they’ll be vetted--- james for any signs of manipulation and regulus for   EVERYTHING   else, and likely they’ll never be able to change all their minds. not all the way at least. on the other end, voldemort will never stop his hunt. it’ll be doubled. both for the potters, and for regulus himself. they’ll live a constant life of fixing the damage as its done, and much like james, regulus will be condemned to a life spent running. and that’s just   IF   they make it.                         but the other option is a littany of eulogies james isn’t ready to hear.   james gives spares one look to the hallway, then steels his partner with a look.       “ tell him yourself, yeah? ”         before grabbing regulus’ hand muttering ‘incacerous’ and   BOLTING   full speed with their hands interlocked. is it a particularly inspired plan? no, but it’s all they’ve got. when they break the threshold of the door, james really kicks them into speed, clutching tighter.   open air means they’ve got all the chances to get hit and with the noise they made escaping there’s no doubt they have chasers on their heels. james is shouting out every curse he knows---- from protection to offense as they sprint and he can   SEE   the window in his views. they’re close, so close---- with an array of colors erupting all around them, and sights and sounds   EXPLODING   james feels a rush of adrenaline that must’ve been dampened these past four days. they’re gonna make it.   THEY’RE GONNA MAKE IT.                              and as if he could hear the fates laughing--- he’s hit.   not enough to stop him, but enough to stutter his steps. there’s the faint trickle of blood running from his right side abdomen down into the line of his pants but he dispels the thought in favor of realizing they have mere steps. steps till they can apparate and again, james is left wondering what to do with no time to think it. if they go to the order, they’ll immediately be separated: james into hospitalization, regulus into screening and james won’t be there to vouch. and after the death of the prewetts, no one is particularly keen on light sentencing. he can’t go to sirius because james can’t stop another fight--- not like this, he’s not even sure where remus or peter are right now, and he can’t expose their safe house. not with harry there.                     but they’re crossing the line. james can almost feel the shift--- and maybe that’s just the desperation, the blood, sweat, and HOPE speaking--- but all he can think of how much he   NEEDS   lily right now that when he’s finally able to apparate, his subconcious takes over. lily would know what to do. 

                         they land in the flower beds. james with a mouthful of soil and tarnished rose buds, and finally able to realize that his cut   FUCKING HURTS. they’re still aways away from the house, as the apparation line was set up to do but james relaxes--- for one minute in whats felt like a lifetime.   THEY MADE IT.     he laughs. a broken, jaded thing that moves from his chest to shuffle some of the dirt around his mouth. and since he’s just not james potter without a one-liner, he shifts, lying on his back with his head in the dirt and groaning out     “ watch the tulips. ”