nopesirthatisillegal

[nopesirthatisillegal]

in case you were wondering if anyone will remember your random acts of kindness:

when i was in kindergarten, i met a boy named jordan. i don’t remember meeting him. i remember knowing him when, one day before dismissal, he came up and asked if he could be my friend. i was a painfully shy kid, and he was friendly and fun and talked a lot, so i said yes. we were the kind of friends that kindergarteners are: buddies during snack time, sharing the best crayons when we colored, and never even thinking that it could go outside of the walls of our school. it was fine. it was great. i had a friend. he’s the first friend i ever made on my own. he’s the first person who made me realise that i could.

my next clear memory of jordan comes when i was in fourth grade. in the morning, i was talking to kristen, who was one of my only friends at that point. she was looking forward to gym, because it was dodgeball day. i was not; i was always picked last in gym class, no matter who the team captains were. you don’t pick the slow-moving kid with glasses if you want to win, and grade-schoolers can be cruel. jordan heard, though; i remember that, because i remember him looking at me as i pointed out how much i wasn’t looking forward to gym, and i remember my cheeks burning because this popular kid heard about my problems.

we had lunch, and math, and finally gym to round out the day. gym, and dodgeball, and riley being one captain, and jordan being the other. and jordan, who won the coin toss, who got his pick of any kid in our class, picking me first. he didn’t even hesitate. he called my name, he pointed to me, and he smiled at me when i walked up to stand next to him. when riley laughed and picked derek for his team and taunted jordan about how he was going to lose, jordan laughed right back and told him that with me on his team, he was definitely going to win. (i don’t remember if we won or not. we probably didn’t. all i remember is not hating dodgeball for one day, and that was enough.)

fast-forward another few years, to another gym class in another school. we were doing baseball, which was my own personal hell in seventh grade. my eyesight hadn’t gotten any better, and i was too tall, too skinny, too out of touch with how to move my limbs to possibly make the bat and the ball connect. rules were rules, though, and no matter how far back in the batting line i stood, nobody was allowed to go back in the building until everyone had a chance. i made myself last every chance i could, because by that point anyone who was interested in the sport had gotten their fill and wandered away, and it didn’t matter that i stuck my elbows out and hunched over the plate and swung and swung and swung at balls that kept whizzing by me and smacking into the fence.

this day, though, this day was the worst day, because i had to be in the middle of the lineup. i don’t remember why; i only remember the sick feeling in my stomach, the feeling that the class would laugh at me as i stood there praying i didn’t move the wrong way and get hit with the ball. when i got up to home plate, i grabbed the bat and stood there and stared at the pitching mound, and jordan smiled back at me. i was clearly nervous; it was no secret that i hated gym, wasn’t any good at it. there were two kids on bases in the field, and someone in the back made a comment about striking me out; one of the kids on base groaned about how he was just going to steal home. jordan kept smiling as he walked off the mound, came up next to me, and quietly asked if he could show me how to hold the bat, how to stand. he demonstrated how to swing, and told me to just try to hit it gently. “just like this,” he said, and held the bat out in front of himself. bunting. i knew the name, even if i’d never been able to pull it off before. “hold it there. you’ll hit the ball.”

i nodded. i didn’t care. i wanted it to be over with.

he walked back to the mound, looked back and me, and then took a few steps forward. “just like i said,” he told me, and i nodded again. he tossed the ball very gently, and i held the bat out, and miracle of miracles, i bunted the ball. “run, run,” he yelled, making a ridiculous dive for the ball, kicking it out of the way of any of the outfielders who were catching on and heading for it. “first base!”

i ran. i made it to first base. i laughed, because i had never been able to do that before, and jordan turned and smiled at me before returning to the mound and striking out the next three people at bat, one right after the other.

now consider this: i met jordan almost twenty-five years ago. i remember these things, these small kindnesses, the things he didn’t have to do but did anyway. he probably doesn’t remember doing any of them. he probably doesn’t even remember me, at this point, and that’s fine. i remember his kindness when there wasn’t a ton to be had, and i remember him smiling when everyone else was laughing at me.

kindness matters. thanks for being kind, jordan. and to everyone else who has been kind, to me or to someone else: thank you, too. your kindness is noted, is appreciated, is remembered.

[nopesirthatisillegal]

The Gathering was in full swing. Flames flickered in carefully controlled campfires, laughter and low voices murmured in the forest clearing, and the command tent stood as a symbol of dignity and order.

Somewhere off to the side, Will and Gilan crouched over a bizarre contraption made of metal tubing, kindling, and what might have been a teapot in a previous life.

“You know,” Will said cautiously, “this looks a bit like a siege weapon.”

“That’s the beauty of it,” Gilan grinned, tweaking a small lever. “We’re weaponizing comfort. Instant fires. No cold nights. It’s genius.”

Will blinked. “Did you test it first?”

Gilan shrugged. “Not exactly. But we’re Rangers. We improvise.”

He pulled a flint, struck it, and...

FWOOSH.

A burst of flame shot from the device like a dragon’s belch, overshot the campfire pit entirely, and struck the side of the command tent.

There was a beat of silence.

Then the fabric whooshed upward in a glorious column of fire.

Will’s mouth dropped open. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” Gilan whispered, horrified and impressed in equal measure.

The tent was blazing now, full-on engulfed in flames. Rangers leapt to their feet, shouting. Someone tossed a bucket of water that missed by a good three meters. Another Ranger tried beating the fire with a cloak, only for the cloak to catch on fire.

Crowley appeared through the smoke, eyes wide as he watched the majestic structure crumple into a collapsing inferno.

Then he burst into laughter.

Will tried to look ashamed. He failed. Gilan just looked proud.

Then Halt arrived, cloak whipping behind him like a thundercloud on legs.

He stopped beside Crowley, took one long look at the flaming wreckage, then slowly turned to the hysterical man beside him.

Crowley, still laughing, slapped Halt’s arm. “Did you see that?!”

Halt didn’t even speak. He just reached out and smacked Crowley in the back of the head with the report he was carrying.

Crowley stumbled forward with an “Ow!” but kept laughing.

Halt gave Will and Gilan his patented Glare of Halt-style Judgment™.

“Do you know how long it took to put that tent up?” he asked flatly.

Will hesitated. “Three hours?”

“Five. In the wind.”

A moment passed in tense silence, broken only by the soft hiss of smoldering canvas.

Then Crowley laughed again and Halt smacked him. Again.

[nopesirthatisillegal]

Any day now

[nopesirthatisillegal]

Theory: Rangers are taught to never have one distinct handwriting in order to never be traceable. Their handwriting changes every single time.

[nopesirthatisillegal]

Will: Crowley how do i get the best revenge on my enemies?

Crowley: the best revenge is letting go and living your life to the fullest :)

Will: ...

Will: Halt how do i--

Halt: brick.

[nopesirthatisillegal]

what’s it called when you’re so disconnected from reality that cold water doesn’t feel like anything and you can barely taste food anymore

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arald: be concise: who is will treaty?

gilan: he’s a nerd.

horace: my right-hand man.

erak: the guy who "wouldn't tell me where halt hides his coffee stash under threat of death".

halt: one of the bravest men i know.

alyss, affectionately: a guy with a spine of steel, but that spine is actually the stick shoved up his ass.

gilan, again: a total fucking NERD.

george, scribbling things down: currently polling #3 on the list of sexiest rangers in the corps.

delia: my own personal hero whose name i might have tattooed on my arse once.

edwina, sighing: the guy whose name my daughter got tattooed on her arse once.

madelyn: my honorary dadm

crowley: my third-biggest headache.

gilan, still talking: a stupid idiot NERD.

jenny: the only reason i still have a boyfriend.

evanlyn: the only senior ranger in the group chat who didn’t take the piss out of me for drawing little hearts around horace's name on the battle strategies…

gilan, holding a struggling will in a headlock: my stupid little best friend second apprentice NERD

[nopesirthatisillegal]

I think Will having exactly No Knowledge of where he’s supposed to be in his training after Skandia is hysterical. Like imagine the rest of the apprentices are at the next gathering and all of a sudden, this freakishly good ranger walks in that you’ve never seen or heard of but apparently he’s a third year but why does he look like he’s Seen Some Things? Also why is he so good at everything??

[nopesirthatisillegal]

Funny thing to imagine is the public finding out Spider-Man is broke gradually.

Like there will be obvious pictures of Peter using the same suit that was torn for days but people just chalk it up as him not having time to get a new one as opposed to not having the resources to repair it. Or the times they see him scavenging in trash cans and getting audibly excited to see a piece of technology that he can use. Obviously he just likes collecting old tech and whatever he found must’ve been rare. Or the number of times he saves hot dog stand vendors and all he asks in return is a single hot dog. He’s just being modest obviously and doesn’t expect much for being a hero. It’s not like he can’t afford food at times.

The time where people started actually considering that Peter might actually be broke is when he was swinging extremely fast across the city before abruptly stopping and landing on the streets to pick up a single dollar while being visibly excited about it. He even chased the dollar for a few seconds since the wind picked it up before swinging off again.

Civilians: Guys, Spider-Man can’t be broke. He spends all day helping New York and doesn’t seem to have an off day. That means he has to be somewhat financially competent so he can live comfortably when he’s not out there being a hero, unless he’s putting New York over his own well being- oh my god, he might actually be broke!

[nopesirthatisillegal]

[nopesirthatisillegal]

come play blorbos with me

we can do tghis. our touy

[nopesirthatisillegal]

more characters with superpowers who look into the whole superhero thing and decide "hm no i do not want to participate in this actually"

[nopesirthatisillegal]

Watching Home Alone is so funny it’s like

Kevin’s mom: *hyperventilating into a paper bag* I can’t believe I left my son home alone, he has to be so terrified, my poor baby boy all alone I need to go get him-

Kevin: *actively planning to commit war crimes*

[nopesirthatisillegal]

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[nopesirthatisillegal]

Fun fact about real life humans. Europe had functioning designs and examples of steel cannons for a long time before they were ever used in battle. And its not from a lack of opportunity.

Leaders just didn’t care for the expense or risk of upgrading when brass had worked so well for napoleon.

Same with the machine jun, they weren’t used (in europe) for years for various small mostly subjective reasons.

And then someone lost without them.

And everyone got the upgrades.

Picture this: Space war, other species see humans as a loud but primitive race that only just joined the stars, easy to crush. The first few battles even go there way.

And then suddenly our weapons are MUCH better. Our ships we MUCH better. Our computers and training and shields. Everything is leaps and bounds ahead.

Cause you see we’ve had that technology for years, we just didn’t implement it because there was no need to. Whether it’s human nature or capitalism, we don’t improve until we’re forced to, until something makes us.

But now there was a war,

now we could justify the cost,

so we stopped holding ourselves back.