If any of you have prompts please PM me.

First of all as you may understand from my pen name I am in love with jily. Remus and Sirius are my babies. I love reading jily fics even though each sends a wave of agony through me.

I doubt I'll be posting any fics since I don't really write but if I do be warned its updates will be horribly irregular.

I'm a part of the Percy Jackson, Hunger Games, Divergent, John Green, Sherlock, The Mortal Instruments, The Infernal Devices and Lord of the Rings/Hobbit fandoms, too.

*ETA*

Now in 2016 I'm in so many more fandoms that I can't possibly name them all.

For Ron bashers:-

Ron Weasley offered the stranger sitting next to him on the train half his sandwich even though it was all he had.

Ron Weasley sacrificed himself for the good of Harry and Hermione at age eleven because even then he thought they were more important than he was, and the ones worth saving.

Ron Weasley was Harry Potter’s first friend and the first thing Harry ever had resembling a family.

Ron Weasley lived in a cramped house and wore hand me down robes and he didn’t even think twice about offering his room and food and family to Harry every break.

Ron Weasley took care of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger when they were too busy taking care of the rest of the world to worry about themselves.

Ron Weasley stood on broken bones when he was thirteen years old, to tell a man infamous for murder that if he planned on killing his best mate, he would have to go through him first.

Ron Weasley was the person Harry would miss most in the world.

Ron Weasley was a pureblood wizard who, from a very young age, devoted his life to abolishing blood status, even if he didn’t quite understand his own privilege.

Ron Weasley gave Dobby his own clothes and socks to be buried in, because he understood how important it would have been to him.

Ron Weasley thought about saving the house elves when everyone else forgot.

If you don’t love Ron Weasley, The Boy Who Cared, I don’t know what books you read but they weren’t the same ones I did.

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.

I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.

I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.

We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.

I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.

I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had.I wish they could adopt me.

I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.

I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.

We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.

I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.

I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.

I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.

I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.

I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.

I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.

I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.

I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.

I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.

I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.

Re-post this if you believe homophobia is wrong. Please do your part to end it.

My name is Lakshmi.