#but i really do think james would like something like that

[idylls-of-the-divine-romance]

I never said he was political. What I said was "His followers then went on to live in voluntary communism", which is an objective fact of the Jerusalem centered community of the Early Jesus Movement.

The definition of communism (lowercase c): "a form of economic organization in which private goods are held in common by a community"

Twice in the Book of Acts does it say that the "And the multitude of those who believed were of one heart and being; and not one was saying that anything belonging to them was their own, but all things were common property to them. And with great power the apostles were giving testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and abundant grace was upon them all. For there was not a needy person among them, for all who were owners of land or houses would sell them and bring the prices of the things being sold and lay them at the apostles’ feet, and they would be distributed to each to the extent that any had need."

Now, one of my bible commentaries (NIV) would say this isn't communism because:

"the sharing was voluntary" This doesn't make it not communism - a form of economic organization in which private goods are held in common by a community. That is literally what this is.

"it didn't involve all private property, but only as much as was needed" Scripture doesn't say that, nor are their any hints or hyperlinks that suggest such. We could reason that this is an example of exaggeration to make a point (see: Solomon's wealth) but I don't really think that's necessary. It is quite possible that in fact most of the people in the Jerusalem district of the Early Jesus Movement decided that the best way to live at the teachings and message of Jesus, the Torah and the prophets, was to live together as a communal group.

"it was not a membership requirement to be a part of the church" Ofc not, which is what makes it better! This wasn't motivated by any political or economic theory, any more than Jesus' life was motivated by political philosophy: it was koinonia rooted by agape - other centered, life giving love from me to you that causes me to lay down my life for you.

(Side note: I do not think it's a coincidence that Jacob/James who was leader of the Jerusalem church wrote the way he did on wealth. It is clear that there was some sort of issue in the socio-economic reality of Jerusalem, likely centered in oppression of employees and heavy taxes as well as ethnic differences, that the early Christians were NOT a fan of).

Also all of this makes perfect sense tho. You can say whatever you want about Jesus not being political (and I won't address that because we'll need to define that word and this post is long enough) but there is something undeniable: Jesus, and also the rest of his Galilean disciples, were not a fan of people who lived comfortably on their wealth while other's went hungry. Which is incredibly uncomfortable for me (it actually put the fear of God in me a few weeks ago) but it is what it is.

Now. I am not a communist and never have been, not because the scriptures ever condemn communism, but because the human heart is wicked above all things and is irreversibly sick without the Spirit giving them a new one (see: the entire Tanakh). I do think there is a reason why when the government decides to implement communism it ends in dictatorship. Instead, I've been looking into Catholic Social Teaching and find Distributism to be interesting.

That said, I think local Christian communities can and should absolutely consider whether they wish to live communally together and what that would look like for them. And no matter what all Christians must change the way they look at their possessions.

Other Christians: Yeah I’m a Christian, but don’t worry, I’m normal.

Meanwhile, Christian Tumblr: I worship a triune God who emptied themself to become a human. He was born a poor teenager and grew up in poverty and at risk of homelessness. He was fully God and fully Human. He taught and lived in radical indiscriminate self giving love and subversive peaceful resistance of oppression. He fought the cause of the widow, orphan, immigrant, poor, and oppressed. He loved the sinner so much they left their sin and followed him, and reconciled both the government allying capitalist and the rebel freedom fighter to harmony in himself. He invites us to take his prescience into ourselves by eating his flesh and drinking his blood. My God then enthroned himself as the exalted king of the world by dying the death of a cursed blaspheming slave. He then rose from the dead and decided his first witnesses would be women, whose witness is worthless in court. His followers then went on to live in voluntary communism, to advocate radical generosity, to destroy ethnic barriers, to elevate the inherent humanity of women and the enslaved, to self identify as exiled and enslaved refugees and pilgrims, to equate God with Love, to diagnose the government as a necessary evil worth responding to with equal parts submission and resistance, and to make the preposterous claim that we conquer the world by giving our lives in self sacrificing love. In my faith, normalcy is heresy.

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 she ignored my letter!

pairing: james potter x f!reader

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever)

a/n: heyyy... i had sm fun writing this, can't wait to write the rest of this bc i literally LOVE anne with an e and this is inspired by it ofc!!!! anyways, im barely writing now..smh, its cause im reading manacled and its literally heart breaking... im also editing on ae and its so hard so im slowly learning😭 but i want to finish this mini series by next week!!

series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons

James had liked you for a while now. He wasn’t quite sure when it started—maybe it was the way you laughed at his jokes, always the loudest in the room. Or perhaps it was when he’d catch you staring at him, your gaze lingering just a bit too long, thinking he was too distracted to notice.

With the Christmas holidays fast approaching, James knew he had to make a move. He had to let you know how he felt. If you didn’t feel the same, maybe the time apart over the holiday would make it less awkward. But he couldn’t let another term slip by in silence.

Knowing your love for all things old-fashioned, James decided there was no better way to confess his feelings than through a handwritten letter. It felt personal, genuine—something you’d appreciate. But writing it turned out to be harder than he imagined.

He’d written and discarded at least a dozen drafts, each one crumpled and tossed aside in frustration. Finally, after half an hour of agonizing over the perfect words, he settled on this version. It was short, straightforward, and sincere:

Dear, (Y/N)

I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a complete idiot. I’ve tried a hundred times, and every single attempt has been worse than the last. So here’s the truth—I’m hopelessly in love with you.

You’ve probably guessed I’m not great at being subtle. But what I’ve never been able to say outright is how much you mean to me. The way you laugh, the way your nose scrunches when you’re concentrating—Merlin, you make it impossible to focus on anything else. I want you to know that you’ve made me braver, happier, better. If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay—I just needed to get this off my chest.

Yours, James

He sighed deeply, folding the letter carefully before slipping it into an envelope. Your name was written on the front in his slightly shaky handwriting. Taking a steadying breath, he tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. He’d leave it somewhere you’d find it tomorrow, just before you both left for the holidays.

As he lay awake that night, James tried to figure out the best way to deliver the letter. Should he hand it to you directly? No, that was too nerve-wracking—he’d probably end up babbling like an idiot. Maybe he could slip it into your bag and avoid the risk of witnessing your reaction.

The morning was crisp, the kind of cold that painted your cheeks red and sent little clouds of breath swirling in the air. On the platform, the train sat waiting, puffing out plumes of steam that mingled with the frosty air. It was alive with the sound of students saying goodbye and dragging their luggage over the cobblestones.

James walked beside you, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was doing his best to appear casual, though every step he took felt heavier with the weight of the letter in his robe.

“Let me take that for you,” he blurted suddenly, nodding toward your luggage.

You blinked, surprised by the offer, but your lips curved into a warm smile. “Oh, thanks, James. That’s really sweet of you.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but his ears turned a telltale shade of pink at your words. “What kind of bloke would I be if I didn’t help you out?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with nervous humor.

The two of you chatted as you strolled toward the train. You told him about your plans for the holidays—how you were excited to see your family, how your mum always made far too much food, and how you couldn’t wait to decorate the tree. James listened intently, nodding and laughing at all the right moments, even as his mind raced ahead to the task at hand.

Then, his opportunity came.

You turned away for a brief moment, waving at one of your friends across the platform. James acted quickly, pulling the envelope from his pocket and slipping it into the outermost compartment of your bag. His fingers brushed the fabric for only a second, but it felt like an eternity.

His heart was hammering so loudly he was certain it could be heard over the clamor of the platform. He straightened up just as you turned back to him, completely oblivious to what had just transpired.

“Thanks again for carrying that,” you said with a smile, your eyes meeting his.

James gave a small, lopsided grin and shifted your bag on his shoulder. “Anytime,” he replied, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves swirling inside him.

As the train’s whistle blew, signaling it was time to board, James knew there was no turning back now. All he could do was wait—and hope that when you found the letter, you’d read it and understand the words that had taken him so long to say.

It had been days since you’d left for the holidays, and James still hadn’t heard from you. Each passing day only worsened the sinking feeling in his chest.

Did you not feel the same? Did you hate him for ruining the friendship? Or worse, were you so disgusted by his confession that you couldn’t even bear to send him a letter saying so?

By Christmas morning, the knot of worry in James’s stomach had become unbearable. He’d stopped pacing and pretending not to care. He spent the early hours staring at the window, waiting for an owl that seemed as though it would never come.

But then, just as the first rays of sunlight streamed through his frosted window, he saw it—a familiar owl perched outside, clutching a small envelope in its talons. His heart leapt with a desperate flicker of hope. Maybe you’d only just found the letter. Maybe you’d taken your time because you wanted to write something perfect.

James hurried to open the window, shivering as the cold air rushed in. The owl extended its leg, allowing him to untie the letter. “Thanks, mate,” James murmured, absently offering the owl a treat before it flew off into the winter sky.

His fingers trembled as he opened the envelope, eager to see your handwriting. But his heart sank the moment he read the first line.

“Happy Christmas, James!”

No mention of his letter. No response to his confession. Just a short, cheerful note wishing him a wonderful holiday and apologizing for not writing sooner. You explained that things had been hectic at home and promised to catch up with him soon.

James felt his chest tighten, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The hope he’d been clinging to was slipping through his fingers.

You’d ignored his letter.

You’d chosen to act as though he’d never written it at all, as if he’d never poured his heart out on that piece of parchment.

James scoffed, his grip on the letter tightening. Fine, he thought bitterly. If you were going to pretend his confession didn’t exist, he could do the same.

He shoved the letter onto his desk, glaring at it as if it were the source of his frustration. Deep down, though, he knew the truth: he didn’t want to ignore you. He wanted to write back, to ask if you’d found the letter, to make sure you weren’t upset with him.

But pride was a stubborn thing, and James Potter wasn’t about to let his vulnerability show again—not now.

As the snow fell softly outside his window, James sat in silence, staring at the letter and wondering if he’d made a mistake by ever writing to you in the first place.

When it was time to return to Hogwarts, James made no effort to find you. Normally, he’d scan the platform, pretending it was a coincidence whenever his eyes landed on you. This time, he couldn’t bring himself to look.

He saw you anyway, just briefly—standing near your family, your face lit up with that familiar smile. His heart leaped in his chest, and his legs almost betrayed him, ready to stride over and say something, anything. But he stopped himself.

Instead, James turned sharply, mumbling a quick goodbye to his parents before heading onto the train. He didn’t want to see you—not now.

The walk through the train felt heavier than usual. He knew exactly where his friends would be—the same compartment they’d claimed since their first year—but it felt like an eternity to get there. When he finally slid open the door, the familiar faces of Sirius, Remus, and Peter greeted him.

“Oi, Prongs!” Sirius called cheerfully, but his grin faltered when James slumped onto the seat next to Peter with a loud huff.

James leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. He could feel Sirius’s gaze on him, curious and probing.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” Sirius asked, unable to resist.

“Don’t.” James’s voice was sharp, firm. It was rare for him to be in a foul mood, let alone snappish.

Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I won’t say a word.”

The tension in the compartment was palpable. The train rattled on, and the usual chatter of the four friends was noticeably absent. Sirius kept stealing glances at James, who sat brooding, arms crossed. Peter fidgeted nervously, while Remus flipped through a book, clearly uncomfortable with the silence.

Finally, about an hour into the ride, James broke.

“She ignored my letter.” His voice was low, bitter, but it shattered the quiet like a hex.

The others exchanged looks before Peter spoke hesitantly. “She really ignored it?”

“Yes, Peter,” James snapped, his tone sharp enough to make Peter flinch. Realizing what he’d done, James sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Peter mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“Maybe she didn’t see it,” Remus offered, his tone calm and rational. “What if it got lost in her luggage? Or someone else found it and hid it? Maybe you gave her another piece of parchment? There’s always a chance—”

“Moony, no.” James cut him off, his voice strained. “I double-checked. It was the right letter, in the right spot. And who doesn’t check their trunk full of clothes over the holiday?”

“Maybe she doesn’t,” Sirius said with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, women can be unpredictable. Maybe she’s got a secret stash for random letters in her trunk.”

“No, she checks,” James said with certainty. “I’ve slipped plenty of things into her luggage before, and she’s always found them. She just doesn’t fancy me back.” His voice cracked slightly at the end, but he forced a small, bitter smile. “And it’s fine. I’ll get over it. I always do, right?”

The compartment fell silent again, the weight of James’s words sinking in.

Sirius leaned forward, a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “It’s not fine, James. If she didn’t fancy you back, that’s one thing. But ignoring you? That’s—”

“Don’t,” James interrupted quietly, his gaze fixed on the floor. “Don’t make it worse, Padfoot.”

Sirius bit back a retort and leaned back in his seat, muttering under his breath.

The rest of the ride passed more comfortably, but the shadow of James’s disappointment lingered. His friends cracked jokes and told stories, trying to lift his spirits, but even when he laughed, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Deep down, James wondered if he’d ever stop wishing that you’d read his letter and felt the same way.

Hours later, everyone had gathered in the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling reflected the dusky evening sky, and the buzz of students catching up after the holiday filled the room. Normally, James would sit with Sirius to his left, you to his right, and Remus and Peter across from him. It was a familiar arrangement, one you’d fallen into without question.

But tonight, James broke the routine.

He subtly nudged Peter into the spot on his right before sitting down, leaving the space where you’d usually sit conspicuously empty.

You walked in a moment later, scanning the Gryffindor table until you spotted your usual group. But when you approached, your steps faltered. Peter sat where you always did, looking apologetic but saying nothing.

Your eyes darted to James, silently questioning him, but he avoided your gaze, his attention fixed stubbornly on his plate.

Confused, you looked to Remus for an explanation. Out of all the Marauders, he was the one you trusted most to give you a straight answer. But Remus only shrugged, his expression carefully neutral, though the twitch at the corner of his mouth hinted at discomfort.

You scoffed, your chest tightening. First, James ignored you all through the holiday, and now he didn’t even want to sit near you? Fine. If he wanted to sulk like a child, you weren’t going to beg for his attention.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked further down the table, sliding into a seat beside your other group of friends. You forced yourself to laugh at their jokes and join in their chatter, but your mind kept wandering back to James.

At the Gryffindor table, James’s eyes flicked toward you more often than he’d admit. Every time he saw you laughing with your friends, his stomach twisted.

“Why is she acting like I’m the one in the wrong?” James muttered under his breath, jabbing at a piece of roast potato with his fork.

“Maybe because you’re acting like a prat?” Sirius replied, his tone laced with amusement as he leaned closer.

James shot him a glare.

“Look, Prongs,” Sirius continued, dropping the teasing. “She doesn’t know what’s going on. You didn’t even give her a chance to explain, and now you’re sulking like a first-year who lost his chocolate frog cards.”

“Explain what? She ignored my letter, Padfoot. What’s there to explain?” James hissed, though his tone lacked its usual conviction.

Remus sighed, setting down his goblet. “Did it ever cross your mind that maybe she doesn’t even know what letter you’re talking about?”

James froze, his fork hovering mid-air.

“Just talk to her, mate,” Sirius said, giving James a nudge. “Or don’t. But if you keep this up, you’re only making it worse—for both of you.”

James huffed, slumping back in his seat. The truth was, he didn’t know if he had it in him to face you just yet.

From across the hall, you caught the way James’s shoulders sagged, and for a brief moment, you considered walking over. But pride held you in place. If James wanted to act like this, fine. Two could play that game.

You and James hadn’t spoken in what felt like weeks. The once effortless connection you shared had been replaced with an awkward silence that weighed heavily on you. It wasn’t just James—it felt like the whole group of Marauders had grown distant, their usual antics and inside jokes missing their spark when you were around.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d done something to upset him. But what? You racked your brain for answers, replaying every interaction from the past few months. James had always been one of your closest friends—why was he acting so strange?

Charms class was the hardest part of it all. You always sat beside James, sharing notes, exchanging whispers, and stifling laughs when Professor Flitwick wasn’t looking. Now, you sat in the same spot, the chair next to you glaringly empty.

You tried to focus on the professor’s instructions, but your thoughts were louder than his voice. Scribbling aimlessly in your notebook, you hardly noticed when someone approached your desk.

“Are you alright?”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy with a blue-and-bronze tie standing beside you. His face was vaguely familiar—you’d seen him around in class but had never spoken to him.

“Yeah—yes, I’m fine,” you stammered, blinking in confusion. Why was he talking to you?

He gave a polite, slightly amused smile. “Well, can you move your stuff? I’m sitting here now. We’re partners for the project.”

“Oh!” Heat rose to your cheeks as you hurriedly shoved your books to one side. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize.”

“No worries,” he said, settling into the chair beside you. “I figured you weren’t paying attention—no offense. But I was, so I’ll explain what Professor Flitwick said.”

You managed a small smile, relieved by his casual tone. “Thanks. That’s… helpful.”

While he began outlining the project details, your focus wavered, glancing at James out of the corner of your eye. He was across the room, seated next to a loud and enthusiastic partner who seemed to be trying desperately to get his attention. But James wasn’t listening.

His gaze was fixed on you.

There was a flicker of something in his expression—jealousy, maybe? Regret? Whatever it was, it made your stomach twist.

You quickly turned your attention back to your new partner, nodding along to his explanation, even if you weren’t entirely listening. You felt James’s eyes on you the entire time, but you refused to look back.

Across the room, James’s jaw clenched. His partner waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oi, Potter! Are you even listening?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure,” James muttered, though his eyes drifted back to you moments later.

He hated this—seeing someone else sitting beside you, making you smile when that used to be his seat, his job. But he didn’t know how to fix it. The letter. The silence. The way he’d avoided you. It all felt too big now, too messy to undo.

Still, James couldn’t stop watching you, his heart sinking further with every laugh you shared with your new partner.

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taglist!! @zowiiiisblog , @kxnnxy , @rainingleaves , @icollectrubberduckies , @elsie-bells

[oh-phoenixx]

"Baby" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 396 words

-

Pet names, in Regulus’s opinion, were gross. Every time he heard his brother’s boyfriend call him ‘sweetheart’, he wanted to vomit. He had to leave the room whenever Evan and Barty were flirting because they did nothing but use disgusting pet names. 

James, on the other hand, loved pet names. He would call Regulus every pet name under the sun, not minding that Regulus only called him ‘James’ or ‘Jamie’ in return. Coming from anyone else, Regulus would have hated this. He would have been put off the entire relationship, really. 

“Morning, love,” James greets with a grin, kissing Regulus’s head and then sitting down next to him. 

It only takes two seconds for Barty to clock this and burst out laughing. “Sorry, did he just call you ‘love’?”

“Yes? What about it?” Regulus responded through gritted teeth and a glare. 

“Nothing, nothing, Mr. Pet-names-are-gross-and-I’ll-never-let-anyone-use-them-for-me,” Barty laughed.

James turned to Regulus, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip jutting out. “You don’t like it when I call you ‘love’?”

“I-” Regulus looked between James and Barty, trying to decide if reassuring James was worth his humiliation. “It’s fine when it’s you,” he mumbled, hoping Barty couldn’t hear. 

James’s pout turned into a huge grin. He kissed Regulus’s jaw and nuzzled into his neck. And, yes, Regulus believed it was worth reassuring James, even though Barty was most definitely going to mock him for this later. 

Despite being okay with James calling him silly names (‘okay with’ is an understatement, to be honest), Regulus refused to do the same. He was Regulus Black, for Merlin’s sake. James was a perfectly acceptable name, and it was pushing it for Regulus to even call him ‘Jamie’. This is why it was a shock to both of them when, one morning:

“Baby, come back to bed,” Regulus whined tiredly.

James’s brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment, spinning around rapidly to look at Regulus. 

Regulus hid his face in the pillow, repeating, “I didn’t say that, I didn’t say that, I didn’t say that.”

James just tilted Regulus’s face towards his and kissed him, smiling so widely you’d think he’d won the Quidditch cup. This was worth the humiliation, too, Regulus thought, seeing James this happy.

If Regulus let the term slip out every now and then, most especially when he needed something or when James was angry, that could stay between them.

[arliedraws]

I really wish Jegulus weren’t so popular because I actually think it’s an interesting idea. It works for me as a crack!ship. But when things get too popular, I get allergic to it because “too many cooks in the kitchen” and it turns boring.

Look, I do find it compelling if James were forced into a situation where Regulus was in trouble and James was the only person around to help. And NOT because he gave a shit about Regulus—but because he loved Sirius so much and deep (deep, deep, deep) down, James knew that Sirius still loved his brother. And wet cat Regulus is hissing and screaming at James to let him be while James just sort of picks him up.

Ohhhh, you know what I could see? Maybe Regulus escapes the cave and comes to Sirius for help—except Sirius is gone on an assignment for the Order and it’s James who finds Regulus instead. Wet and dying, Regulus bitches at James who’s like, “Aw fuck, now I gotta deal with this pathetic loser.”

Regulus is mean, cruel, mean until James shuts him down and berates him for being an asshole to Sirius for years. And then finally Regulus bursts into tears—and he’s a bit like Gollum in the way that you sort of feel sorry for him because he’s so pathetic. And awkwardly, James pats his shoulder like, “Er—there, there.” And maybe Regulus has always had a crush on his older brother’s really hot best friend (who wouldn’t), so Regulus leans in for a kiss.

Okay, maybe I don’t ship Jegulus because I guess that’s as far as it goes for me. But look, I can somewhat see it. Not long term, and James feels like complete shit about it, but it has potential. And James would have to be separated from Lily or something because if he’s going to “cheat” on her, it would only be with Sirius (and probably because he doesn’t see it as cheating—it’s just what they do together, obviously, it’s normal).

[sideprince]

This is what makes Pettigrew such an interesting character tbh! According to Sirius:

‘Just before he transformed,’ said Black. ‘When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself - and sped down into the sewer with the other rats …’

Prisoner of Azkaban, Ch. 19

Pettigrew didn't just kill twelve people. What I mean is, the manner in which he killed those people says a lot about his character. He didn't serial-murder them in a deliberate way, he didn't line them up and take them out one by one, he didn't even target a specific building with certain people in it.

He blasted the street apart with his wand behind his back. He didn't look where he was aiming. He didn't look at who might be in the way. We don't know if he had a reasonable sense of the extent of the destruction he was causing or if he even knew there were any bystanders who would be hurt, let alone killed.

Was he panicked and acting without thinking, running down into the sewer afraid both of the law and of himself? Did he spend a significant period of time coming to terms with what he'd really done? Or maybe he ran from Voldemort's followers now he had no ally in Voldemort whose downfall they'd hold him responsible for, as well as from the law, not knowing how many people he killed, or that he'd killed any, and only found out later by reading an old Prophet in a bin. Was it his guilt that drove him back to Voldemort, the desperate need for validation he'd always had now magnified because he'd done something unforgivable?

Or was he fully aware of what he was doing, his move calculated, his peripheral vision telling him that a dozen people were within range of his blast, knowing that if he got away as a rat Sirius would be locked away for life for mass murder and the secret of his own betrayal would be safe? Did he get a taste of the power Voldemort wielded in the process and like it, having spent his life following others sycophantically, and now discovering what strength felt like? Is the reason he sought out Voldemort later that he had been chasing that high for years and was hoping Voldemort would give him the opportunity to feel it again? Only to realize when he did resurrect him that he didn't have the courage to wield that kind of power of his own volition with him around, and clearly didn't have it without him.

Even so, he killed Cedric without a second thought when Voldemort commanded him to. He prepared Harry meticulously for death when resurrecting Voldemort. He was ready to kill Harry and Ron at Malfoy Manor, if his silver hand changing course and killing Pettigrew is any indication of his original intentions. By the end of his life, Pettigrew was the person Voldemort used to do the dirty work like keeping prisoners quiet, the implication being that he was willing to murder and torture in the same casual way he killed Cedric. Yet he was also willing to be as brutal to himself, cutting his own hand off, an act of self-harm that goes against every human instict. Was it an act of self-preservation? He could have refused, turned into a rat and left Voldemort alone and friendless and gone to live under a false identity somewhere far away, but instead he chose to give his own hand to restore a master to power in the hope of gleaning some of it for himself.

I'm not sure the narrative tells us enough about Pettigrew to get a clear answer to his motivations or how his experiences informed his character arc, but he's interesting enough to raise all these questions!

I feel like this fandom never really talks about the fact that Peter Pettigrew murdered at least twelve people. Probably more (either directly or indirectly) while he was working for Voldemort. Like, everyone fixates on the fact that he turned traitor, that he was a spy and he got James and Lily killed and framed Sirius for it, and all of those things are absolutely terrible, but like... he murdered twelve people in cold blood. What Sirius went to Azkaban for was that murder, not for supposedly betraying his friends. Most of the wider wizarding world wasn't aware that the Potters had a secret keeper or that they'd been betrayed, they just thought that Voldemort had tracked them down, as he had so many others, and that was that. What Sirius was famous for was supposedly murdering thirteen people (twelve muggles + Peter) with a single curse. The mass murder was the big deal here as far as the rest of the world was concerned, and even without all of the betrayal, murdering twelve people on its own is still an absolutely horrific thing for Peter to have done, and nobody really seems to talk about it. He literally has so much blood on his hands.

[hirayalore]

— PART 01, PART 02.

the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

rating: PG-15

content: fluff, kinda idiots to lovers; ft. gryffindor!reader

warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem

୭ৎ ࣪ ׅ ⊹ reposted from my other account !

You’ve already accepted it long ago that you were always going to be invisible.

It had its perks really. It gave you enough liberty to not be the center of attention during classes and be on your own whenever you had free time to catch up with some assignments.

Plus, it’s not like you were completely invisible. You still had friends and was well-liked in your Hogwarts house. They saw you as the shy, timid girl that would smile all the time if approached, voice always gentle and soft that no one ever felt like they were a bother each time they talked to you, regardless of how busy you were.

Speaking of being busy, you were currently inside the library with two of your close friends, Martha and Iris. Unlike you, the both of them were what others defined as the ‘it girls’ of your year, as a lot admired them and wanted to be in their circle. They were approached not only because it was the last resort or they looked friendly to have decent answers, but because being given attention by either of the girls was treated as such a big privilege.

“Iris,” Martha whispered from her seat in front of you, “Sirius Black has been staring at you for ages.”

At the sound of his name, Iris, who was seated on your right, also subtly glanced at her right to peer at the table next to you three. The occupants of the said table were indeed Sirius Black, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew; the four of them were in the same house as you, which was Gryffindor.

“Don’t make eye contact,” Martha scolded Iris when she was looking too long. “He might catch you and think you’re interested in him as well.”

“Well, I mean, Black does have a face that is a pleasure to look at,” Iris defended, and that was when you finally lifted your head up from your book, listening more to their conversation.

“Does that mean you like him, Iris?” Martha smirked and Iris shook her head.

“Of course not! I’m just saying he’s handsome.”

“Everybody with eyes says that.”

“That’s because it’s true, no denying it.”

“But Lupin is quite handsome too, you know,” Martha added. “Shame he’s a bit quiet. I tried talking to him in Potions once, but he didn’t seem like he was in a good mood.”

“He’s nice,” you finally said something, “I think he’s similar to me.”

“Introverted and shy?” Martha guessed, laughing with Iris. It wasn’t in a bad manner, just two friends who wanted to tease you for your known similar quietness.

You sighed, nodding and playing along. “The worst combination, really.”

The both of them laughed again, along with you this time, as hushed as you could.

“Is he still staring, Martha?” Iris asked after a few seconds, and Martha stole a quick look over the other table.

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Curiously, you decided to do the same as Martha, wanting to see if Sirius Black was really staring at Iris. It has been a common occurrence for the past week for Sirius to seemingly always be caught in the same vicinity as Iris or looking at her, that was why it has also been a common topic recently for Martha to bring up Sirius’ apparent crush on Iris. You were starting to believe her, frankly, as you’ve always been a witness whenever Iris told Martha of her catching Sirius looking or the four boys always laughing like they were teasing each other whenever you three were around as well.

You couldn’t blame him for fancying her. Iris was gorgeous, intelligent, and someone you could deeply depend on. You didn’t want to compare yourself to others, but you thought that if you were Sirius, no doubt the obvious choice would be going for someone like Iris who’d go well with a handsome man like him. You could already imagine how the school would label them as the star couple of your batch, rooting for them as much as you were aware a lot liked James Potter and Lily Evans together.

Though the moment you twisted your head slightly to his direction to see, to check if he was making his crush on her apparent, his eyes immediately connected to yours, and then a smile made its way to his face. It looked a little mischievous, but still friendly nonetheless.

You faced away instantly, not aware of what to do once more. That has been happening frequently too, wherein you accidentally locked eyes with Sirius as he was looking over to Iris.

Maybe it was just another mistake (like what you were telling yourself on the previous four times this happened). Maybe his gaze just flickered to yours at the exact time you chose to look at him. You weren’t sure why you were making such a big deal out of it, but truth be told, you’ve been harboring a little (and secret) crush on Sirius ever since you saw him playing for Gryffindor at the Quidditch Match last academic year. You just didn’t tell anyone because for starters, you were still sort of in the state of denial; two, you thought it was embarrassing for someone like you to like someone like him; and three, you were pretty sure he liked Iris.

“____, are you alright?” Iris placed a hand on your forehead all of the sudden. “You’re really red in the face.”

“I — I am?” You put your own hand against your cheeks and felt them burning up.

“Are you okay?” asked Martha upon noticing your sudden flustered state thanks to Iris.

“Oh. Um, I’m alright.”

“You sure?” asked Iris.

You glanced back at Sirius and saw him still staring at you. However, he was no longer smiling but looked concerned.

“Yeah, yes.” You told the two. “But, uh, I think it’s getting rather hot in the library. I better go and cool down..” You began to gather your books and kept your parchments, ink, and quill inside your bag in a clumsy and fast manner. “I, um, I’ll go ahead to the common room and continue doing my essay there. I’ll see you girls later.”

Without waiting for a response, you literally dashed away and didn’t stop with your fast-paced walking until you were far enough from the library, stopping by a corridor that didn’t have any students hanging around the place. You took it as a good sign to lean against the wall, catching your breath and feeling ridiculous for running away like that when you only made eye contact with Sirius. It wasn’t like he did anything major for you to react that way. It was just a simple look and smile and now you were here, your heart beating so fast that it seemed like it wanted to jump out of your ribcage.

You sighed. You shouldn’t be treating this as some sort of problem. So, with another loud exhale, you pressed your things tighter against your body and turned back towards the corridor that would lead to the Gryffindor tower, only to collide with a fellow student which almost made you fall if it weren’t for their two strong hands holding your elbows to keep you on your feet.

“Sorry,” you muttered, not bothering to glance up at the person, wanting to just rush to the common room as soon as possible, but the person holding you didn’t let go of you until you lifted your chin up and met the same pair of eyes you caught gazing at you in the library.

“What’s the hurry, love?” Sirius asked, genuinely curious with a small smile on his face. His fingers were still wrapped around you. They had moved to your forearm yet a bit more loose, as if they were just there in case you were to fall again. “You feeling alright?”

“Me?” you repeated.

“Yeah, who else?”

“Oh. I’m… I’m fine.”

You and Sirius weren’t exactly friends for his question to come out as normal. Perhaps he was just engaging in small talk to get rid of the awkwardness of the situation.

“That’s good. I thought something bad happened. You just ran out of the library a few minutes ago, and it seemed like there was some kind of emergency,” he said.

“There was no emergency. I just wanted to move fast.”

“Move fast?”

“Yes.” You knew you sounded funny, but you paid no attention to it. “Uh, anyhow, sorry again for the run in. I should’ve looked where I was going.”

You were beginning to make a run for it again, but Sirius’ grip was back on one of your forearms before you could do so. “Wait,” he said, “I actually followed you here. I wanted to talk to you.”

You froze. He sounded serious yet not at the same time. Did that make sense? Nonetheless, you began to ask, “Talk to me? What about?”

“I’ve been meaning to ask something. Delaying it, honestly. I think you even noticed me thinking about it while we were in the library.”

“I don’t think I did.”

“Well, maybe Martha did. I think she certainly noticed something.”

“Martha?”

“She would always catch me in the act, I suppose. And earlier, dhe probably caught me staring again, didn’t she? Then she told you?”

It dawned on you right then and there what was happening. This scenario had happened a lot, of course, wherein a guy who was attracted to either Martha or Iris (in this case, the latter) was going to ask you if you could put a good word for them and boost them up to your close friend. You always immediately declined their request, to be frank, never willing to be some kind of messenger between two people who could have a conversation on their own.

“Oh,” was all you said, trying to mask your disappointment.

“I’m usually not like this, I assure you,” Sirius carried on speaking. “I mean, no shame at being nervous and all, but I think it’s safe to say that I usually carry myself better than this.”

He was right. Sirius never looked not confident. He had this elegant yet commanding aura about him, a quality that you were sure stemmed from him being a Black and a pureblood. Though Sirius wasn’t like those arrogant purebloods who saw themselves as royalty just because of their blood status, he was still superior in terms of his wits, skills, and looks.

“That said, I was just wondering, ____,” he started, “if you would —”

Your mind started to zone out from that point as well. You abruptly just kept on thinking about how you were politely going to decline him, planning to say that he should just ask Iris himself if he wants to have a date with her or perhaps ask Martha instead if he really couldn’t do the first move. The only words that managed to register in your brain were Hogsmeade and this weekend. 

“What do you think?” he finished, and you flickered your eyes to his, dazed.

“Uh,” you pressed your mouth together, “um, I think it depends on Iris.”

“Iris?”

“Yes.”

He appeared confused. “Why Iris?”

“What do you mean ‘why Iris’?”

“I’m just confused on why it depends on Iris. Does she stop you from making wrong decisions?” He joked.

You didn’t laugh. You were confused as he was. “Obviously it depends on Iris because she’s the person you’re going with. She has to be okay with going to Hogsmeade with you this weekend for it to happen.”

Sirius stared at you. What you replied to him definitely didn’t help him become less puzzled about your answer prior.

“Darling,” he was smiling now, and you were watching his expression change from confusion to realization in an instant, “it seems you have it messed up. I’m not hoping to go out with Iris this weekend to Hogsmeade. I’m hoping to go out with you.”

“Me?” you repeated, surprised.

“Yes, you silly girl.” He looked endeared; a hint of mischievousness crawling up his features too. “Why would I go to you if I wanted to ask her?”

“I… I thought you went to me as a way to persuade her.”

“I didn’t.”

“Most guys do. No offense taken, honestly. I think it’s because I look friendly.”

“But I didn’t, ____. You’re still not listening to me.”

You frowned. “I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time grasping all of this.”

“Am I being too straightforward?”

“I’m not sure. It’s just that I never thought you’d ask me out.”

“Seems a little too sudden?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm, or perhaps, you’re just unbelievably oblivious.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m not oblivious.”

“You are. If you weren’t, I’m sure you would have seen this coming.”

“Why would I?”

“Last game, do you remember? I literally pointed at you after I made a score.” He played as a Gryffindor Chaser, and upon the mention of it, you did remember him doing that — just in an altered version of what he was sharing now.

“No, you didn’t. You did that to Iris,” you said.

“Why do you keep bringing Iris into this?”

“Because she’s the person you like!”

“Says who? You?”

“Yes?”

“Such a reliable source, I might say,” he sarcastically said, and you could feel yourself burning up again. “You’re more convinced with your own thoughts than you are to me, which I may add, is the person who fancies you.”

He fancies me, you repeated inside your head over and over again, not entirely believing him still, although your heart seemed to be betraying you by continuously thumping fast.

“Is this some kind of prank?” you asked then, voice more quiet and unsure. You knew that he and his friends like to play jokes on people, all for the sake of having a good laugh about it.

“What? No, no, of course not,” he clarified right away, his hands tightening on your forearms. “It’s not like that. I’m not that sick, ____, I would never fake this.”

“Oh, I’m… I don’t know — I told you, it just feels sudden. How could you like me?”

Sirius softened at your question. “Because, pretty girl,” he started with an endearment, walking closer to you which you unconsciously stepped away from, your back touching the corridor wall, “there’s something about you that pulls me in. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but I want to get to know you more to discover what it is. But I do like how you’re kind and how your mind works. It’s very fascinating.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yes. And if you’ll accept my offer to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend, I’ll be glad to talk about it more,” he said. “That is, if you do go with me, but if not, then I guess you’ll just have to live with the mystery.” There was that familiar playfulness he had a reputation of.

Slowly, a smile was making its way on your lips. “This weekend, right?”

“Yeah.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” He grinned. “We can go to the Three Broomsticks, or even at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop if that’s what you like.”

“I have a hard time believing you’re okay with the latter.”

“I’ll be okay with going anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

You gave him a skeptical look, though regardless, nodded. “Okay. I’ll go to Hogsmeade with you this weekend.”

His grin became wider. “It’s a date, love.” He proceeded on getting your books and bag from you, a gesture you were too surprised to stop. “Where are you headed? I’ll accompany you before my Quidditch practices.”

“Just the common room.”

He let you lead the way, starting a new conversation as you walked with him. It was a new experience for sure, even though having someone you were beside with being ogled at wasn’t a new event to you, it still felt unreal to be walking with Sirius and have him carry your things.

When the both of you entered the common room, a lot of eyes turned to your direction, intrigued and shocked.

No doubt this was going to be the talk of the Gryffindor house for the next few weeks.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[iaminlovewithagingermilf]

The Marauders: A One Act Play

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: Professor Slughorn tells me that you were behaving inappropriately. What exactly is your side of the story before I fill the blanks in myself? 

JAMES: [James sits up straighter.] Inappropriate? Oh come on we only- [Sirius cuts him off by pushing him by his face back onto the chair.] 

SIRIUS: What exactly was his side of the story? Because we have no idea what you're talking about. [James rubs his nose dejectedly.]

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: Really you have no idea? [She looks at them like she doesn’t believe a word out of their mouths.]

SIRIUS: Nope.

REMUS: Nuh-uh.

JAMES: Not a clue.

PETER: Absolutely zero ideas.

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: That’s funny, you’d think that you guys would remember filling your teacher’s classroom with fifty chickens! [They all pause for a moment to watch her face turn red.]

REMUS: [Remus taps his finger on his lips, looking thoughtful.] Hmmmm you would think we’d remember doing something like that.

PETER: [Peter mimics his thoughtfulness.] Unless we didn’t do it, in which case there would be no memory to remember.

JAMES: [James points at Mcgonagal importantly.] Oh my God we didn't do it! Honestly I wasn’t expecting that. [He sits back looking very relieved.]

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: [Mcgonagal angrily waves her hands around.] He literally saw you do it! He saw you running away, you left a trail of chicken feathers! Peter you have a feather in your hair right now! 

PETER: [Peter plucks the feather out of his hair with a look of new understanding.] Ohhhh you meant that time we filled our teachers classroom with forty nine chickens.

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: What do you mean “that time” of course that time! How many other times have you filled up your teachers' class room with fifty chickens!

SIRIUS: Never. We’ve never filled up our teacher's room with fifty chickens. [They all blink in unison.]

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: You guys just admitted it, like literally two seconds ago. The professor walked in his class room and found 50 chickens labeled with a number. [She reaches up and rubs her temples looking on the verge of tears.] They still can’t find number 13. 

REMUS: Oh how strange. 

JAMES: Strange indeed. [James stifles a smile, looking away from Remus so he won't laugh.]

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: [Mcgonagal signs with an air of resignation.] What on earth possessed you guys to do this?

PETER: The pigs were expensive.

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: [Mcgonagal tugs on her hair.] Right of course, I always put chickens in my teacher’s classroom because the pigs are expensive. 

REMUS: I don't see why you are so upset, it’s not like there’s a rule against putting forty nine chickens in your professor’s classroom. We checked.

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: You checked to make sure there wasn't a rule against putting fifty chickens in your teacher's classroom.

REMUS: [Remus smiles brightly.] No, but that’s not a rule either.

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: what? I- It’s not a rule because we assume our students have common sense! 

SIRIUS: [Sirius waves his hand in a dismissing movement.] Ah well you know what they say about assumptions. 

JAMES: No, what do they say about assumptions?

SIRIUS: [Sirius thinks about it for a second before he shrugs.] I don’t know, they probably cause cancer or something. [James nods like that makes sense.]

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: They do not cause canc- He was yelling after you! He told you to stop!

REMUS: Ohhhh that's what he was saying! I thought he was practicing.

PROFESSOR MCGONAGAL: Practicing?!

REMUS: For the opera.

PETER: [Peter nods encouragingly.] He does have a lovely singing voice.

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

Lily sighed profoundly and drank her chocolate shake as if it was liquor. She was sitting by the bar inside a pub anyways. It was Hogsmeade weekend. And Lily needed something sweet.

Lily knew Madam Rosemerta sometimes did exceptions and sold beer to minors. But Lily reckoned she wouldn't have luck. She was bad at convincing people. Worse adults.

Plus, she wouldn't break the rules.

"Ye, Okay. Luv?"

Lily realized she was pouting when the bar owner imitated her gesture.

"Look at thet face!"

Lily swallowed her shake.

"Nothing Rosmie, really" Lily answered "I was just thinking"

"Aye, the many times people had told meh their problems... Yeh would believe I'm good listener"

Lily blushed. She didn't have a problem precisely. Maybe she was panicking a bit. But it was all in her mind.

"Have you ever had a weird dream?" Lily asked "It is just so weird. So weird, because you wouldn't do that thing that you were doing in that dream ever! But you were still doing it in the dream and in the dream you seem to like it. Only in the dream. Never in real life"

Rosmie seemed confused.

"Yeh mean like a nightmare?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically. That was the only way to describe it. A nightmare.

"Well, God knows I've had many weird dreams and nightmares, Is bloode normal, eh?" the woman said "Doesn't mean they're real"

"Yeah you are right" Lily said relaxing a little. It had been just a dream.

Rosmie leaned closer.

"Althoughe, dreams are a window to our subconscious" she continued "Show us our deepest fears and deepest desires, aye"

Lily's eyes widened slowly.

"I know what'm sayin' luv" Rosmie nodded "I followed a course online. It was prette good"

Lily blinked.

"What did yeh dream about?"

Lily drank more milkshake as she remembered the dream. She usually forgot about them when she woke. But this was vivid in her mind. Playing over and over again.

He was grabbing her by the waist in such a perfect manner, she had her hand on his shoulder and they waltzed and waltzed in synchrony only looking into each other's eyes.

His eyes were big and beautiful as they changed color. His eyelashes... God, so perfect. And that black hair that Lily wished she could touch. Looked like cotton on top of his head.

The song ended and it was time to reveal their faces. Lily took out her mask first.

"God, you're beautiful" said a sexy hoarse male voice. It sounded familiar somehow.

Lily smiled.

It was his turn to take the mask off. He did it so slowly that Lily was trembling in anticipation. And then a gasp when she saw his face.

"What's up, Evans?" he grinned.

"Potter??"

"Just admit that you want to kiss me so badly"

Before Lily could protest, James grabbed her waist and pulled her into a kiss. She was struggling at first but oh how much she was enjoying this, butterflies in her tummy and she felt sparks and magic around so she gave into the kiss. Opened her mouth for him. And it was perfect...

Lily gulped down her shake and ignored her brain freeze.

Rosmie was looking at her as if she was crazy.

"What if you dream about someone you really hate... Like really hate! And in the dream you are being.... Friendly..." she blushed "with him... Them... Them... We don't know the gender... I'm hypotecally speaking..."

Rosmie opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by someone else approaching.

"Hey, Rosmie"

Lily panicked realizing who it was. Standing right there next to her. So close...

"Hey, Evans"

Lily wished she would be swallowed by earth.

"Hey" she answered quickly and looked away.

Do not look at him. She told herself.

"Can I get a portion of chips?" James asked innocently.

Rosmie was not paying attention. She was looking between the two of them with a knowing smile.

"I understand now" she spoke to Lily, her eyes flickering at James.

Oh bollocks.

Lily shook her head discreetly.

"Yeah," James was oblivious "Chips?"

Rosmie winked at Lily then smiled at James.

"I'll tell the cook right away and I'll take yer order ter yer table, luv"

"Maybe some beers while we are at it?"

"Nice try, luv"

Rosmie walked away.

"Make it a large one" James said after her "My mates eat like pigs"

Lily was silently begging her not to leave them alone but Rosmie was already crossing the kitchen door.

There was silence after that. Lily stared at a gum stuck to the counter and only that. Although she knew Potter was running his fingers through his hair which made Lily blush more. She had done that in the dream. While she kissed him.

"Sweet tooth, eh?" Potter asked.

"Ha?" Lily jumped "What about my tooth, why are you referring to anything that has to do with my mouth?

James was amused "It's an expression. I was referring to the shake you just had" he pointed to the empty glass.

Lily felt like an idiot.

"Want another one?"

James was already getting out his wallet, so Lily stopped him.

"Don't you dare!" Lily snapped "I'm okay with one. Too much sugar for today"

James shrugged and pocketed his wallet.

"Are you alright?"

"Peachy"

James was looking at her without discretion.

"Come with me then"

"Excuse me?" Lily felt her face on fire "You think you can make me follow you somewhere so that we can be alone and you can woo me, eh Potter? Well, I'm not giving up... You might have girls with no brains drooling for you but not me. Not me" she crossed her arms at the end.

James blinked.

"I'm definitely not kissing you"

James laughed.

"Relax Evans, I only meant to come to the table with my friends" he said "I was inviting you over... What do you think I am, a perv?"

Oh God... Could Lily humiliate herself more?

"I'm with Mary and Marlene. They went to the loo and are taking ages..."

"They are out of the loo by now" James said "They are sitting with us. See?"

He pointed to a table by the window and in fact Mary and Marlene were laughing with the boys.

"Right"

"Plus, I thought that we were friends now, weren't we?" James added "Or have I done something wrong?"

It was true. They had had a couple of decent conversations with each other and Lily was seeing a different side in him. He wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t pressuring her into anything anymore. In fact the other day he had given her advice about Luke. He didn't ask her out just because. He didn't care about her like that anymore. Just the other day Lily saw him kissing Rebecca.

She had felt like an idiot because Luke had tried to kiss her and she couldn't. She ran away. But when she saw James kissing Rebecca she wanted it badly. Not to snog James, no. To snog someone like that.

Maybe that was why her brain was confused.

Lily was being silly. It had only been a dream. She had read somewhere that the brain picked parts of what you saw and lived during the day and mixed it up in a dream. Like a shake.

"Nothing" Lily said now more relaxed "You did nothing. It's just... I'm still getting used to being your friend"

James smiled at her.

"You know I tend to attack you as soon as you open your mouth" she added. "It's a habit but I promise I will change that"

James rubbed his hair once more.

"Well, I'm trying to stop the habit of being a dick" James said which made Lily laugh "Only tell me to fuck off if I am really being a dick to you. Promise me, okay?"

Lily nodded.

"Alright" James tusked "Care to follow me to the table were thy friends are waiting for you, Miss?"

Lily smiled as she grabbed her purse "That was actually better than: 'Come with me', so..."

Lily and James started walking.

"Alright madam, promise to be more formal the next time"

"Okay"

They both smiled at each other and it wasn't awkward anymore.

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Seventeen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066

Monday morning came before I was ready to face it but I knew that there wasn’t any way I would be able to stay home, avoiding my problems, for much longer. My mind had been jumbled with thoughts of Bucky and Steve which made my decision way harder than I would have liked it to be. What did help, however, was that I didn’t hear from either of them the last couple of days, both giving me space when I needed it most. 

Now, the half block walk from where I parked my car to the office building gave me time to think even more about the two men. 

Steve.

He was a breath of fresh air, something different and inviting. He never once judged me for what I was doing with Bucky. He never said he knew but didn’t have too. Steve was nice from day one when I started and our relationship grew slowly over time and it would be stupid not to give him a chance. 

Bucky.

Bucky was everything that I had been wanting for so long, he’s the one that my heart yearns for when I’m not around him. He’s the one that I think of the second I put my head down for the night and the second I rise from the bed.

While there was chemistry when Steve and I kissed, it was alway different with Bucky. 

My heart rate would accelerate, pounding all throughout my body while my knees would go weak, unable to stand. There was so much fire and intensity with something unknown hidden behind every one of Bucky’s kisses. I couldn’t explain it, it merely kept me wanting more.  

However, there still was the fact that Bucky was married and unable to fully commit to me one hundred percent while Steve was ready to give himself to me; in more ways than one. 

In the end, someone was going to get hurt and I was willing for it to be me so neither Bucky nor Steve would fall prey to it. 

As I turned the corner, Barnes Industries coming into view, I felt a burning gaze at the back of my head which caused me to turn on my heels. Eyes scanned the busy street, other people getting ready to start their own work day, and when no one seemed out of place, I continued the short walk to the front door. 

Only now, the burning intensified and I quickly spun around, this time catching a petite woman dart down the alley a couple feet away from me. 

“What the fuck,” I muttered with furrowed brows. 

When I turned back around, I collided with a large chest, feet stumbling back and I prepared myself to fall onto the concrete. Strong arms wrapped around me, catching me before I fell. 

His eyes bored into mine and my body went rigid with fear. 

“Cl-clint.” I stammered. 

Clint helped me stand up straight and made a mockery of dusting my shoulders off. 

“You should really watch where you’re going, Y/N. You never know who you might run into, literally.” 

My lips were pulled in a straight line, too afraid to speak a word, and I did the best I could to move past him through the crowded streets. Two gazes were burning a hole into the back of my head but I didn’t bother to look back and see, knowing who one of them belonged to. 

“Shit.” 

“Oh fuck!” 

A small scream fell from my lips when I collided with yet another body, only this one I felt safe in their embrace as his vibranium hand captured my lower back. Bucky’s blue eyes watching me with concern. 

“Doll? Are you alright?” 

I shook my head, blinking away a few tears that pooled in my eyes. Bucky looked around before pulling me further inside of the building, helping me sit in the chair at my desk. 

He kneeled in front of me, placing a hand on my cheek. “Hey, what happened?” 

“I felt as if someone was watching me when I was walking in. I got distracted trying to see who and ended up walking into Clint. There’s no way that he would be in your neighborhood for the hell of it, right?” 

Bucky’s shoulders went rigid, a low scowl on his lips. “Only to scare you.” 

I shook my head. “I thought you paid off the hit?” 

“I did,” he nodded. “Maybe he’s trying to scare you.” 

“Well, it worked,” I sniffled. 

With both of his hands around the back of my neck, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, the action calming my shaking bones immediately. 

“Maybe I should go home. He doesn't know where I live,” I said. 

As soon as the words left my lips, I couldn’t help but question that statement. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he knew where I lived. 

“I’d feel a lot better if you stayed here, that way I can make sure you’re safe,” Bucky replied. 

I nodded, knowing he was right. 

We stared at each other, his tongue wetting his bottom lip as Bucky began to lean in closer and even with the fire burning low in my abdomen, I let out a small cough to put some distance between us. 

“I think I’m going to make some coffee, get my mind off what happened.” 

“Sure,” Bucky gave me a forced smile and slowly pulled away. “I’ll be in my office and have the door open if you need anything.” 

I didn’t bother to see the small look of hurt across his face as I removed myself from his grasp. 

Who was that woman? Something about her screamed familiar but I never got a good look at her face. 

I mulled those same thoughts in my mind as I stood in front of the coffee maker, teeth caught between my teeth, trying to figure out who that mystery woman was that darted into the alley when I caught her following me. 

“Maybe she works with Clint,” I muttered to myself, pouring a rather large cup of coffee. 

My third one in a few hours. 

The morning slowly spilled into the early afternoon and I had done a great job in avoiding Bucky and Steve, not ready to face the latter. Though, I knew that at some point I would have to talk to him, to let him know how I felt. 

“Hey,” a soft voice sounded behind me. 

Fuck, I didn’t mean right now.

I sighed, giving Steve a small smile. “Hi.” 

“Bucky told me what happened,” Steve said while running a hand through his hair. 

“I’m okay,” I assured him, noticing how worried he was. “Clint didn’t hurt me.” 

“I promise you, I paid him off. Bucky handed me the money and I brought it to Clint’s house. He gave me his word that the hit is off,” he assured me. 

I gave him a firm nod. “Steve, you don’t need to prove yourself. I believe you.” 

His shoulders relaxed a bit before I felt his fingers grasp at my own, pulling me towards his office. “Can we talk, in private?” 

Biting the inside of my cheek, I knew that this conversation would happen eventually and now would be the best time to get it over with. No more avoiding it. 

“Sure.” 

I let Steve gently pull me into his office and once the door was closed, he motioned for the couch that sat in place on the other end of the room. We both sat, with some distance between us. 

He ran a hand over his beard and let out a deep breath. “I wanted to apologize. You’re going through a lot right now and I shouldn’t have added more by kissing you.” 

I place a hand on his knee. “I wanted that kiss just as much as you did, Steve.” 

His face brightened. “You did?” 

“Yeah. We’ve been doing this dance for months now, it was only a matter of time.” 

Steve sighed. “But-.” 

My heart stung when I realized he had a hint of what I was going to say, his tone of voice sounding so broken. 

This time I linked our hands together. “I don’t think it’s fair to you to be with you if I’m not 100 percent committed to you. You don’t deserve that.” 

Steve’s blue eyes twinkled under the light from his office. “But you do?” 

I blinked, a bit caught off guard, and didn’t know how to answer him only because he was right. Why did I deserve to be with someone that wasn’t committed to me? 

“I can’t explain it,” I admitted with a shrug. “There’s something about him that it’s hard to let go.” 

Steve lifted my chin when I looked down ashamed. “Don’t feel sorry for me, Y/N. I’m used to losing girls to Buck.” 

“Do you hate me?” I asked with a shaky breath. 

“I could never hate you.” 

We gazed into each other's eyes and even with the magnetic pull I felt bringing me in closer to him, I fought against it by placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. 

“You’re a good man, Rogers,” I breathed against his skin. 

The bright glow of the moon spilled through the large windows of the building and with a low breath, I packed up my things purposely taking my time. I had to leave, go home for the night, but I was afraid of walking to my car alone with what happened this morning. 

Steve had left a few hours ago, with a quick wave but broken eyes, and it did nothing to mend the hurt I felt in my stomach. It made me sick, knowing I caused him that pain. 

I glanced over to the office behind me, the man lounging on his couch with his head resting against the back of it, eyes shut in quiet solace. 

We spent the majority of the day avoiding each other but now that I needed to ask him a huge favor, I wasn’t quite sure on how Bucky would answer. 

A gentle tap sounded on the frame of his door causing him to open his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Headed out?” Bucky nodded to my purse and jacket. 

I nodded. “I know I’ve been avoiding you all day so feel free to say no.” 

With his own nod, I continued. “Would you mind walking me to my car?” 

“Of course, doll.” 

Bucky’s smile warmed my heart and I waited patiently as he slipped on his leather jacket. “Ready?” 

“Yea,” I smiled. 

The cold night air wrapped around us and I made an effort to bring my jacket closer to me, in hope of creating some sort of heat. Bucky noticed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me closer. The warmth that radiated from him quickly spread to my own body and I silently moaned at the feeling. 

“Bucky?” 

My voice was quiet but he still heard, his hand squeezing my shoulder. “You alright, doll?” 

We came to a stop in front of my car and I avoided leaving; not before telling him exactly how I felt about everything. 

My palm rested against his cheek, his plump lips pressing a kiss upon the skin there and the butterflies that laid dormant the last few days began to flutter to life. 

“I don’t want to get hurt,” I said. 

Bucky nodded in my grasp. “I don’t want to hurt you, doll.” 

“I like you a lot, Bucky.” 

He quickly brought me closer to him, our nose grazing against one another. 

“The feelings are mutual.” 

His voice was deep which made my core itch with desire. 

Bucky began digging around in his pocket and placed a small, white card in my hand. As the words burned into my brain, my lips curled up in a smile.

Matt Murdock. New York’s Best Divorce Lawyer.

“A divorce?” I questioned, with so much optimism. 

He answered my question by capturing our lips together, his own feeling so soft and tasted like the bourbon I saw him drink earlier in the night. Our bodies molded together, as they always did, and I nibbled on his bottom lip when he pulled away. 

“I’m hoping by the end of the month she’ll be served with the papers.” 

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “You’re really leaving her?” 

Vibranium fingers tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “For you, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. The mere thought of possibly losing you to Steve was a wake up call. I can’t lose you and I will do anything to keep you.” 

Our lips met in yet another heated kiss, Bucky pushing me up against the cold metal of my car and I looped my fingers into the belt loops of his pants to bring him closer to me, needing that reminder of how his cock felt pressed against me. 

We were so engrossed in each other, our possible future together, that neither of us felt the burning eyes from the figure that lingered in the darkness. 

[dcdreamblog]

Greetings. I’ll admit, I have no way of knowing for sure how much of what I’m about to ask would really be in your usual wheelhouse, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I could ask for information on the Teen Titans…or more specifically, the lineup featuring Dick Grayson (when he was still Robin and hadn’t yet become Nightwing), Starfire, Beast Boy, Raven, and Cyborg. You see, I’ve been a HUGE fan of this team ever since I saw the ‘dramatized retelling’ cartoon about them from the early 2000s as a child. And I’ve not only continued to remain a fan of such in the years since, but also worked to try to gain as much knowledge as I could through reading as many sources as I could find and making educated speculations from there to the best of my ability. However, in light of just how knowledgeable you appear to be, I was wondering if you could give an explanation on the history of that line-up, how accurate that 2000s ‘dramatized retelling’ cartoon was compared to the real thing, and what those five in particular are currently up to nowadays (up to and including their current relationship status if such isn’t too gossipy for you, as I’ve always felt that Starfire was a better endgame girlfriend for Nightwing than Barbara Gordon and am also a proud believer/supporter of Beast Boy and Raven as a couple (though I’m willing to be respectful and not push anything if reality doesn’t match up with my dreams), not to mention have great interest in the rumors I’ve heard about Cyborg and that friend of his named Sarah Simms who runs a social group for disabled kids)?

P.S: Apologies if I got overly rambly in this ask… :/

I'd love to tell you about the Titans but I think you may be falling into something of a common conspiracy theory. Because the Gotham tabloid often get this bee in their bonnets about Bruce Wayne secretly being the mysterious Batman, that of course leads them to bothering Wayne's adoptive children with his first ward, Dick Grayson assumed to be the first Robin and later Nightwing. As is shown by these conspiracy theories (like the equally popular theory that Superman is secretly Daily Planet reporter and Lois Lane's husband Clark Kent) our understanding of who our costumed protectors seem to be in their private lives is seldom as straightforward as we think. This of course goes the same for businesswoman Barbara Gordon who seems to get sucked into this quagmire by virtue of being the daughter of beloved Gotham police commissioner James Gordon. That being SAID, and with groundwork laid, let's talk about the "New Titans"

(The cover of a comic album produced by Detective Comics. Detective has tried to do this "real superheroes as comic stars" thing a few times and it's never been very popular. No wonder they're #4)

(A promotional image of Cartoon Network's "Teen Titans" animated series) While I do enjoy what was done with this series, a lot of the same creatives who worked on the classic MAU cartoons also worked on this. It's not what I would call a first person historical document. First of all, obviously it's line up isn't fully correct. Showing only Robin, Starfire, Cyborg, Beast Boy and Raven as the "main team" whereas the team's actual membership in that era included the first Kid Flash and Wonder Girl. The cartoon also treats this team as the first assemblage of the Titans, when that is also not true in a historical sense. Robin specifically had been a member of said original Titans alongside Kid Flash, Wonder Girl, Aqualad and Speedy. (Who all appeared in the series, save Wonder Girl for some odd reason) I do find it amusing that the show was never able to show Robin without his mask on, because obviously the creative team couldn't know who Robin was beneath his mask whereas the personal details of the other Titans have become at least partially historical record. Again conspiracy theorists love to claim the show contains hidden clues pointing toward the Bat-Wayne theory but I roll my eyes at that as much as I roll my eyes at it anywhere it pops up. (Some particular wingnuts have even chosen to insist that the invented character "Red X" is meant to map onto Wayne's deceased second son, Jason Todd. Which is a theory that is well enough buried simply for being in such poor taste) Most of the stories used in the series are either partially or fully invented, and even what events ARE shown that have a foot in truth are shown DRASTICALLY out of order. Sometimes related to censorship, such as real life mercenary and contract killer Slade Wilson AKA Deathstroke being renamed to simply "Slade" and having his profession softened for television. The Doom Patrol is shown as originally captives of the Brotherhood of Evil, whereas in reality during the show's run the entire team save for Beast Boy himself was assumed KIA after their confrontation with the Brotherhood outside Four Heroes, Maine. They wouldn't be fully reunited with Beast Boy until years after the show's conclusion. I was too young to remember this but I've read anecdotes about the Markovian people lodging protest about American actress Ashley Johnson being cast to play Terra, when the real life Terra was obviously Markovian just by her accent. As well as the softening of her portrayal from a knowing and malevolent traitor to the team rather than a misunderstood victim of Slade's manipulations. There was a short lawsuit involving Neil Richards, aka fashion designer "The Mad Mod" due to his portrayal on the show. while Richards did indeed conduct some rather odd criminal activities, he had, by the time of the show's airing served his time and had founded the now famous "Mad Mod" fashion empire. The suit was settled out of court by Richards who made the public statement "I don't want to be the bad guy, attacking the children's favorite cartoons. I just don't want this all to be summoned on top of me again." The only note he asked of the production is that the episodes never speak his legal name. Though the production went the extra mile of changing the character's appearance for the real Mod's famous ginger bob and green smoking jacket to a crimson bowl cut and union jack coat. As for the modern "fates" of these five, they're all rather simple I'm glad to say. All five are still active superheroes, still close friends and still highly trusted members of the superhero community. As for their romantic entanglements, I couldn't comment on that. Not only am I historian, not a gossip columnist but the personal lives of superheroes are kept rather close to the chest. For the most prominent reason that any public knowledge of their romantic attachments would place those people at terrible risk.

[dnickels]

John Irving Poem Playlist

I love the hype around Davechella and wanted to do something a little different- a mixtape of poems, with commentary (desperate self-justification) and bonus poems below the cut

I.

The Lamb, William Blake

The Pilgrim, Sophie Jewett

Self-Dependence, Matthew Arnold

The Light of Stars, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Wanderer, Unknown, trans. Roy M. Liuzza

Up-Hill, Christina Rosetti

Sir Galahad, Alfred Tennyson

II.

They Could Not Tell Me Who Should Be My Lord, Edwin Muir

God gave a Loaf to every Bird, Emily Dickinson

Ancient Text, Louise Glück

I Find no Peace, Thomas Wyatt

A Secret Told, Emily Dickinson

Mary Magdalen, James Elroy Flecker

Because I Liked You Better, AE Housman

III.

A Better Resurrection, Christina Rossetti

The Temptation of Saint Anthony, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Leonard Cottrell OR trans. Len Krisak

Batter my heart, three-personed God, John Donne

At Least to Pray, Is Left, Is Left, Emily Dickinson

'Thou art indeed just, Lord, if I contend", Gerard Manley Hopkins

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, (LXXXIV- LXXXVI) trans. Edward FitzGerald

I Shall Know why- when Time is over, Emily Dickinson

IV.

Sudden Hymn in Winter, Joseph Fasano

Fable and Decade, Louise Glück

Love (III), George Herbert

Of Molluscs, Mary Sarton

Dark Night of Soul, Juan de la Cruz, trans. E Allison Peers

He Touched Me, So I Live to Know, Emily Dickinson

The Finder Found, Edwin Muir

V.

The Plate, Anthony Hecht

Prospice, Robert Browning

Pietà, Rainer Maria Rilke, trans. Jessie Lemont

DEATH THE COPPERPLATE PRINTER, Anthony Hecht

The Gold Lily, Louise Glück

Futility, Wilfred Owen

Flock, Billy Collins

"What, no Wild Geese?" spiritually Wild Geese is here, tucked in section IV, which might a well be subtitled "The soft animal gets a treat", same with Song of Songs and so many psalms I couldn't pick one. I wanted to try to play with poems that were either new to me or a little further off the beaten track (although there are still some obvious picks but come on was I not going to get some Donne in there?). Frankly, this entire list could have been Emily Dickinson start to finish, it's not yet accepted historical fact that she was an inexplicable psychic witness to the sufferings of the Franklin Expedition but I am submitting my findings to journals as we speak

(sorry Jirv for all the Catholics and extremely suspect Anglicans!!)

I. SEEKING

Whenever I invoke "The Lamb" please know I am reading it with the same menace and sense of foreboding as Patti Smith. Given the vibe I'm trying to cultivate you'd think there would be more Blake, but I think Jirv has such a profoundly different experience with Church Authority and his own conversion experience that he and Blake hardly seem like they share the same faith. Even in a scenario where he managed to unclench, I can't see him espousing a sentiment like The Garden of Love. Maybe if he survived to reflect on his encounter with Koveyook he might groove more with "[Christ] is the only God ... and so am I and so are you."

The only section that has at least a few poets I think Jirv would actually read, namely Matthew Arnold-- the only poem on here that I think isn't very good, I'm sorry to Mr. Arnold but there we are, they were right to light your ass up in Punch. He's here however because I think his work captures a very clear and immediately accessible sense of the early Victorian man striving to be himself, in the sense that he can flower fully into the model of upstanding sober bourgeois middle-class manhood which isn't always attainable for later birth-order sons in a navy overcrowded with officers. The real life Irving's letters touched me very much in that he is both looking for a deeper connection with God, a better version for himself, and in the material world, a way to make enough money to establish himself as capital-R Respectable in a way that swashbuckling at sea or derring-do in the colonies doesn't really allow him. I actually don't know if the years line up for him to have read Longfellow but this stanza:

O fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong, Know how sublime a thing it is  To suffer and be strong.

Is such a classic mid 19th century "making yourself miserable for ideological reasons" motto. Shades of "Invictus" (which for some reason I don't know if Jirv would vibe with, maybe more of a Crozier poem).

I think you could also call the first section "Voyages", I was struck by how often the real Irving was compelled to relocated to try and make a place for himself in the world in the literal, material sense, and the few letters we have are largely his thoughts on his spiritual seeking-- I was very surprised not to find a settled and secured ticket-to-Heaven holder but someone who still considers himself a student, is still wrestling and grasping and looking for something.

Prithee, Pilgrim, go not hence; Clear thy brow, and white thy hand, What shouldst thou with penitence? Wherefore seek to Holy Land? Stern the whisper on his lip: Sin and shame are in my scrip.

It feels a little much to say 'Jirv is the Galahad of their doomed Grail quest' but frankly, given that no one succeeds, I kind of like the idea of a failed Galahad. It's slightly ahistorical to invoke but once we get into the 1860s and the mid-Victorian chivalric revival Galahad becomes a potent symbol for a kind of chaste imperial knighthood in service to God/Queen/Country. At least one young office who died in WWI was named Galahad, not just a PG Wodehouse joke christening.

II. CRISIS

Obviously there are ten thousand things that could torment the evangelical protestant mind and bedevil one's self-worth and it doesn't have to be "hopelessly in love with your best friend" but I wasn't going to miss a chance for some Housman, was i? Wyatt gives us the money couplet:

I desire to perish, and yet I ask health. I love another, and thus I hate myself.

I had included Flecker's We That Were Friends but felt it was just slightly too self-aware, ditto Rosetti's Winter: My Secret.

III. STRIFE

I think these are all pretty self-explanatory. I could have added ten more Emily Dickinson poems because she is the only one on this earth who gets it (me, the deal, the whole of existence). Hopkins I think is more concerned with the sins of the world than the real life Irving (who, based on the very limited material shared, must be the most laid-back and chill evangelical in human history? Or maybe I spent too long among the Baptists) but I can see Jirv wondering, in the God-proof bunker of his diary, why the wicked are flourishing while he is losing his everloving mind and threatening to lock up ABs for being afraid of ghosts.

Here is the excerpted Khayyam so you don't have to go looking (although you should because its wall to wall bangers) (context: the narrator is standing in a potter's shed, and listening to the vessels talk amongst themselves)

LXXXIV. Said one among them— "Surely not in vain My substance of the common Earth was ta'en And to this Figure molded, to be broke, Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again." LXXXV. Then said a Second—"Ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy; And He that with his hand the Vessel made Will surely not in after Wrath destroy." LXXXVI. After a momentary silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry: What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"

"Did you make me just to smash me, God?"

Runners-up for this section included Rossetti's The Three Enemies, which only didn't make the cut because I think its slightly uneven compared to the rest of this work and this list has become pretty Rossetti-heavy. Ditto De Profundis.

IV. ACCEPTANCE

Also pretty self-explanatory. Mystical union with Christ or a very special sergeant of the marines, or both! Is it canon? No! But I like to think that even just one time...

If you read any poem on this list please read 'Love (III)' and 'The Finder Found', the latter of which is my 'Wild Geese'. It seems self-serving to say I cried when I read it but I did. Meanwhile Herbert is goated and his entire work could be listed here but hearing Love (III) read aloud made me understand what poems could do.

I cheated putting two Glück poems for one but given that they were published together in that magazine I think its ok. Here's even more cheating: The Undertaking would be in there if I could squeeze it on the same line. "The darkness lifts, imagine, in your lifetime" PLEASE

Runners-up here were Larkin's First Sight, which just doesn't quite fit but I love for the sense of spring coming to someone who doesn't know there's anything other than winter deprivation, and A Shropshire Lad XI (On your midnight pallet lying) which I LOVE but again doesn't quite jive with the theme, but I do imagine it as a bridge poem between this section and the last...

V. DOOM

A little bit of Browning, who might squeak in under the line of plausibility (though perhaps not this poem) as Jirv sets out on the death march with waning faith that is not, in fact, a death march but then his journey ends in Stabtown, population: YOU. "The Plate" in this case would be that faith and knowledge of being loved that remains even after hardship and the final lost battle, maybe even literally in the meat from his stomach. But misery and death put all the men on the rack and instead of salvation they are essentially tortured to death, often long enough to crush/squeeze out any semblance of humanity and leaving the animal capacity for violence.

"Futility" could encompass the whole sorry venture but in specific the shot of Jirv's body after all the effort to make contact with someone would could help. Was it for this? "Exposure" also a strong contender for "the long slow process of freezing to death for unclear reasons".

"Flock" of course-- God needs martyrs.

[lupus-in--fabula]

RANT INCOMING!!!!!!! (anti wolfstar im not an angry wolfstar shipper)

finally someone said it🙏james and sirius were clearly based on the stereotypical highschool jocks who stuff students with a different sexuality or a slightly alt style into lockers, regardless of if sirius' family didnt like him he still grew up rich and spoiled, and despite his family bullying him over ehat house he got into, he did the same to snape, bullying him because of what house he got into, james was no better, he has zero excuses since his home life was by all known aspects, completely fine, they were bullies, typical homophobic alt people hating bullies who, lets be honest would bully 99.9% of their stans, and the other thing i dont get is how remus even became friends with them in the first place, cause he was just like snape, a poor halfblood with no social skills and no friends, well actually remus was worse off cause he had absolutely no friends while severus at least had lily, so by james and sirius' standards remus wouldve been more of a "freak" than snape, the only reason they became friends was because remus was so desperate to have friends that he did his best to please james and sirius, to say stuff that appeased them, and when he got into gryffindor james and sirius deemed him worthy of joining their little bullying squad, i stand by my theory that if remus was a ravenclaw or a hufflepuff and he didnt meet james and sirius on the train, he and snape wouldve had more of a chance to become friends than remus sirius and james, since we know that sirius and james mostly befriended only gryffindors

AND BUDDY DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE WEREWOLF "PRANK"

do wolfstar shippers really think that that was okay? lets say that remus and sirius were dating, hypothetically, in what world would you think: "hmm i should definitely use my unregistered werewolf boyfriend in his wolf form when he has no control over his actions, as a trained circus animal to try to scare off the kid that me and my bff have been bullying, and risk said boyfriend eating the kid or turning him into a werewolf which would definitely get him expelled, probably even imprisoned, maybe the school would get shut down too, cause what else would the ministry do when they find out that dumbledore has let what they deem as "an vicious violent beast" stay in a castle full of students and said "beast" ended up almost killing one of the students.......but he will definitely still stay with me right? cause its just a prank"

WHO TF WOULD THINK THIS IS OKAY?!

i dont even get why remus stayed friends with him after that ive go two theories

1 he didnt fully know the extent of what happened, he didnt know how close hed come to killing snape, cause sirius probably didnt tell him that part and james definitely backed sirius up in lying to their best friend

or 2 remus was once again so desperate to keep his friends that he once again didnt use his own brain but chose to believe whatever sirius said just to keep the one friendship he had built, he does that a lot, you can see him wanting to run away when shit gets real, he is like that, burying his head in the sand when something heavy happens, like when tonks got pregnant and he ran away, i could see him doing the same after the "prank" which was actually attempted murder by sirius

wolfstar shippers will see a post mention sirius in anyway even if the post is gen or shipping another pairing and immediately go into the tags and be like “haha yes but moony is the only one who has sirius’ heart””i bet remus was so annoyed by him””james was the biggest wolfstar shipper trust””sirius definitely did this while he and remus were fucking tehe””oh yeah and remus was definitely being the responsible parent while this went down always having to be the more mature one because of his bf”

[oh-phoenixx]

"Last" - Jegulus microfic @into-the-jeggyverse - 348 words

-

Regulus wouldn’t do it. He would not fall in love with James Potter. He would not find comfort in something that wouldn’t last. He would not get attached to someone who would leave.

“Reg? You okay?” James’s voice asked, pulling Regulus from his thoughts.

“I’m fine,” he snapped.

James nodded with a small frown, his concern not deterred by Regulus’s tone. 

They were in the Astronomy Tower, and Regulus was calling out the stars for James, guiding his hand to be pointing at the right ones. Stars were like second nature for Regulus, so if he spent most of his time looking at James, only remembering that the stars were there when his boyfriend asked for him to name another, well…that wouldn’t be anyone’s business but his own. 

“Where’s Regulus?” James asked, eyes lit up with excitement that had Regulus’s stomach doing flips. 

Without really looking at what he was doing, Regulus moved James’s hand to where the Leo constellation was. 

James’s grin turned into a frown again, and Regulus’s heart ached with longing for a smile that was only two seconds gone. Yes, yes, he was going to fall in love with James Potter. Fuck.

“Sorry, is this boring for you?” James asked nervously. “I thought maybe you would like this since you know so much about stars, but, um, we can do something else, if you want.”

Regulus barely registered the words, busy thinking about what he could do to bring the smile back to his boy’s face. Closing the already-small distance between them, Regulus pressed his lips to James’s own. The kiss was steady, familiar. They had only been dating for a few weeks, but they knew each other so well. Regulus anticipated the hand on the back of his neck, he knew the motions, he understood the rhythm. There was so much comfort, for him, in knowing what to expect.

So, maybe he had already fallen in love with James Potter. 

“Don’t leave me,” Regulus mumbled against James’s lips, his voice so fragile and filled with vulnerability that he hated himself for. 

“Never.”

[ultravioletbrit]

“allergic” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 543 words

“buying gifts” - 25 Days of Jegumas - Day 4 - @noblehouseofgay

“It’s not that I’m bad at buying gifts. It’s just that James is so good at it. And I really want to get him something special, I just don’t know what that is.” Regulus is sitting on Barty’s couch and drops his head in his hands.  

“We could just go to the mall and walk around and see if you get any—" Barty starts to suggest.

“No!” Regulus cuts him off firmly. “We are not going to the mall.”   

“Oh, sorry, I forgot you’re allergic to social interaction.” Barty says sarcastically.  

“You say that like it’s not true. I would break out in hives, and you know it.” Regulus tells him. “Plus, the mall this time of year sounds like my worst nightmare… and yours.”

“Okay, fair point.” Barty agrees.

“And I don’t think I would find anything there anyway. Nothing that would be good enough.” Regulus sighs.

Barty flops down on the couch, clearly done with this conversation. “Just sign him up for a Wine of the Month Club and be done with it.”

“What the hell is a Wine of the Month Club?” Regulus asks.

“I don’t know. I guess they send you different wines every month so you can try ones you’ve never had.”

Regulus looks at him incredulously for a moment. “That sounds ridiculous.” He says dryly and Barty just shrugs. “You are no help at all.”

------------

Regulus is sitting on the floor in front of James biting his lip nervously as he watches James read the card he gave him. James furrows his eyebrows slightly then slowly looks up at Regulus.

“Love… I’m not sure what a Date of the Month Club is?” James asks gently.  

“It’s a stupid name, I know. But I couldn’t think of anything else to call it.” Regulus say quickly.

“Okay.” James chuckles fondly. “But I still don’t know what it is?”

Regulus is quiet for a moment but eventually he takes a deep breath and says, “Okay, so next year, once a month, every month, I’m going to take you on a surprise date and each one is going to be something we’ve never done before, so we can… try new things together.” Regulus explains hesitantly, avoiding eye contact with James. With every word he says he’s becoming more and more anxious as he realizes this was a ridiculous idea.  

Evidently, James feels the same way because he hasn’t said a word and just keeps looking from the card to Regulus and back again. After a long moment, Regulus can’t take the silence anymore.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out. “Is this stupid? This is stupid. I’m sorry. It’s ridiculous. I know it’s—"

“I love you, so much.” James says slowly cutting off Regulus’ rambling.

“What?” Regulus finally makes eye contact with James.

“This is amazing!” He tells Regulus. “This is so cool! Oh, I am so excited! We are going to have so much fun!—” Now it’s James’ turn to ramble.

“Really? You like it?” Regulus asks quietly.

“Reg…” James reaches out and pulls Regulus onto his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I love this.” James leans in and kisses Regulus. James pulls back to look into Regulus’s eyes. “Thank you.” He whispers.

Regulus has a small, sheepish smile when he whispers, “You’re welcome.”     -

[sunonwaxyleaves]

After hanging out with Sirius’ little brother for a few months now - sometimes the three of them but more and more just the two of them - James first realizes he’s in love with Regulus on a summer night with cheeks warm from sunburn and sweet red wine. They’re on an old leather couch at a party Sirius is throwing at the Potter’s beach house, and Regulus rests his head on James’ shoulder with a deep, heavy sigh. Absolutely plastered, he mutters in defeat, “I think I’m now ready to admit that I’ve probably missed my chance at becoming a mermaid.” James wants to laugh until his stomach cramps, wants to kiss him on his peeling lips and point out that Regulus turns 21 in just one week, what does he mean he’s willing to admit this now, but instead he shrugs lightly and rests his head on Regulus’. He says in that cocky voice of his that makes far too many people swoon, “You’d be the prettiest mermaid of them all” and Regulus would roll his eyes even though James couldn’t see, he’d bury his head further into James’ neck, and tell him “Yeah, James, obviously”.

And then a week would pass, the morning of Regulus’ 21st birthday, and he’d wake up before anyone else and sneak out of the house for his morning run. Sometimes on the really hot days, like the day of his 21st birthday, he’d cool off in the ocean before walking back to the house, the walk long enough to let the sun dry him a bit.

Except this time was different.

Regulus runs and jumps into the ocean, does a few slow strokes atop the rolling waves, then promptly begins to scream bloody murder in the blink of an eye; his legs have become so heavy it’s as if an overweight adult man is clinging to him. He twists and turns his body, lifts his cement legs up to see what the fuck is going on, freezes, starts drowning, then screams even as his mouth fills with saltwater.

Where his legs are supposed to be - where they used to be - there is now a beautiful emerald mermaid tail with scales that glitter tiny rainbows like the polish on his finger nails.

A mile away, the split second Regulus screams the first time, James wakes from a deep slumber with a gasp so sharp it throws him into a coughing fit. He drinks from the glass of water on his bedside table and grabs his phone before leaning back onto the fluffy pillows, pulling up his messages to text the birthday boy.

(7:02am) Happy birthday Reggie!!!! 21 WOOHOO!!!!!

(7:03am) Are u back from ur run?? Do u want blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes?

(7:04am) Had the craziest dream last night. Need to tell u all about it over some Potter Pancakes(;

(7:26am) Reggie??

(7:38am) Sirius said u never came back from ur run is everything okay???

(7:41am) Ur freaking me out Reg can u pls respond

(7:55am) Wherever u are: STAY THERE

(7:55am) I’m coming to find u. Call me when u see these, pls pls please

(8:06am) Where the fuck are you, Regulus?????

[resident-gay-bitch]

little rich boy sirius who gets disowned and can barely survive without his expensive brands and the basic human need to eat at least once a day meeting the entirely too generous james potter who just falls for the vanity and sincerity of the reformed rich boy and decides that once sirius stops caring about brands and status and rich boy things and just cares about what matters in life he decides to spoil his boyfriend to pieces because he’s secretly sitting on a fucking fortune