#james the seventh

[oatmealdaydreams]

Hiya there oatmeal, I could help but notice ur very awesome music taste and I’d just like ask

May I have some song recommendations please? /nf

Any genre but I very much like indie and folk pretty pls

Oh honey, I have plenty of song recs for you! I love indie and folk as well (my music taste is just everything basically, lmao). This got kinda long, btw.

When I say 'indie', I mean some of the artists aren't as popular as you'd think. Irina Imme has less than 100 listeners on Spotify, and Cath Calypso has less than 2k. They're both some of my favs <3

A few music artists I recommend (folk): The Crane Wives, The Oh Hellos, The Paper Kites, Fish in a Birdcage, Cosmo Sheldrake

A few music artists I recommend (indie): Cath Calypso, Posie Pocket, Irina Imme, Indie Anthony, James the Seventh

===

A Few of My Favourite Folk Songs

The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives

Little Soldiers by The Crane Wives

Featherstone by The Paper Kites

Thus Always to Tyrants by The Oh Hellos

Hello My Old Heart by The Oh Hellos

Rule #27 - Drunk on Pride by Fish in a Birdcage

The Moss by Cosmo Sheldrake

===

A Few of My Favourite Indie Songs

Starchild by Posie Pocket

history by Cath Calypso

Stupid by Irina Imme

I Don't Want U in My Life by Irina Imme

On and On by Indie Anthony

Dumb and Shy by Indie Anthony

The Moon by James the Seventh

===

Okay, I have a lot more recs, but this got long. I have a lot of music artists and songs that most people don't usually know, and I love sharing them. Always put in asks about songs recs. I love it!

Anyway, hope this helps, Duckie! Have fun :D

[rei-the-head-shaker]

Good night to you all, amazing souls! 🖤🌙

[regulus-arcturus-rosier]

james the seventh is so remus lupin coded

[theseventhveil1945]

JAMES MASON as Nicholas Cunningham in THE SEVENTH VEIL (1945) Dir. Compton Bennett

[unnamedmedicalprofessional]

I get long-running fictional franchises are overexposed these days, but I do think there's something fundamentally fascinating and wonderful about them. It is fascinating seeing the same characters or world continuously reinterpreted through the various views and interests and style and tropes of dozens or hundreds of different people. There's something beautiful about something going on for decades so that fans are writing it motivated by their love of the story and making new fans fall in love with that story and become writers themselves. However, this makes it especially frustrating when franchise media tries to make everything a bland attempt to recapture a hollow version of the past rather than trying to do something new with old characters.

[izharmilgram]

7

wassup harrymort nation im back (temporarily)

[d3cayingdolly]

when the night begins to fall, that's when you will make sense of it all

(pinterest <3)

[papertowness]

there was absolutely no reason for james wilson to look at his best buddy / coworker like this after said best buddy / coworker just accused him of dressing up to impress somebody at the place they work at

[shootingthe-stars]

need a jily renaissance so bad

[uhhlifeig]

Broom - September 24 - word count: 682 - @wolfstarmicrofic

The Quidditch pitch was buzzing with excitement as Gryffindor and Hufflepuff faced off in their latest match. 

Remus sat in the commentator’s box, leaning back in his chair. He was totally ready to do his duty.

“And Gryffindor takes possession, James Potter dodging a Bludger- because of course, he makes everything look easy-,” Remus said, his voice amused. 

He paused for a second before adding, “I’m sure he’s very proud of himself.”

On the pitch, Sirius swooped down with Marlene at his side as he locked on to a nearby Bludger. 

Remus couldn’t help but track him, barely keeping his voice from cracking as Sirius smacked the Bludger towards the Hufflepuff Chasers with perfect form.

“Here comes Sirius Black, who I assume thinks he's auditioning for some dramatic flying role rather than playing Quidditch. But, credit where it's due- that was an excellent hit... probably all those hours working on his wrist strength.”

There was a snicker from some of the Gryffindor stands.

Sirius, mid-air, threw a blush-tinted grin back up toward the commentator’s box, saluting with his Beater’s bat.

Remus tried not to blush. Tried.

“And now Logsden has possession, passing to Potter- I swear this match is a personal highlight reel for James. Honestly, someone should remind him there are other players on this team.”

Down on the pitch, James gave a theatrical wave, clearly soaking in the attention. 

“And Black, once again, looking far too proud of himself for someone who just barely avoided hitting Rivers with that last swing,” Remus quipped, shaking his head. “Can someone please remind him that we’re here to hit Hufflepuffs, not Gryffindors?”

Marlene barked a laugh as she zoomed past Sirius. She elbowed him as she flew by, and he exaggerated a spin in response, nearly toppling over on his broom but grinning all the while.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle he hasn’t fallen off his broom yet,” Remus added with a laugh. “But I suppose we should be thankful for small mercies.”

“And Potter’s lining up for another shot at the goal… And he scores! Gryffindor now leads 30 to 10, and it’s no doubt the rest of us will hear about this in excruciating detail during dinner.”

Sirius and James high-fived in mid-air, and Sirius gave another look toward the commentator’s box, this time with a slightly exaggerated wave that had Remus rolling his eyes.

“I’d like to remind everyone that, despite what it looks like, James Potter is not actually playing this game by himself, though he seems convinced otherwise.”

There was a collective laugh from the Gryffindor stands, and even McGonagall could be seen stifling a chuckle.

“And now- oh, would you look at that! Another spectacular play by Sirius Black. I’m not sure if it’s bravery or simply a complete disregard for personal safety.”

Remus paused, as Sirius caught his eye once more and sent a playful smirk his way.

“Ah, and yes, that grin on his face means he’s fully aware I’m talking about him. And no, Sirius, you’re not getting special treatment from the commentary box, no matter how much you wink at me.”

The Gryffindor side howled in laughter, and Sirius blew a kiss in response, nearly toppling off his broom in the process. Remus shook his head.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle I’m allowed to commentate at all. But let’s move on... Hufflepuff still has a chance to- oh, never mind. Matthew Rivers has stolen possession, and Gryffindor is now leading by forty points!”

Remus smiled, watching Sirius dive-bomb a bludger.

“And there goes Black again, risking life and limb for... well, I’m not entirely sure why. Probably just for the drama. Typical Gryffindor behavior, honestly.”

When the Snitch was caught, signaling Gryffindor’s victory, the stands erupted in cheers. 

The dark-haired boy flew top speed right at the commentator’s box, still grinning like a madman.

“Nice commentary, Moony,” Sirius said, laughing as Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Nice flying, Black,” Remus shot back, feigning nonchalance. “Though, next time, maybe try not to hit our own team with that stick of yours.”

“No promises,” Sirius replied, still grinning.

[niceonejames7]

i just realised I've never read anything that involved others finding out about the "incident". just read the line,

"remus, something awful has happened."

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 ~ 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟐𝐤

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬' 𝟏𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The morning air was crisp as you marched through the halls of Hogwarts, making your way towards the Transfiguration Courtyard. It was March 27th, 1978: James Potter's 18th birthday. You entered the empty courtyard, feeling thankful that you had pulled a jumper on over your pyjamas as the cold air nipped at your nose. You set your gift box down on a bench, taking a seat next to it and letting out a yawn. It was much too early for any student to be out and about, let alone out of bed, so the courtyard was peaceful and quiet.

That was, until a familiar, cheery voice broke the silence.

"Y/n!" James called out, jogging over to you. His glasses had fogged up from the cold air, causing him to stop a few feet away from you. He took his glasses off, wiping them down with his scarf before putting them back on. "Bloody freezing, yeah?" He approached you, pulling the Gryffindor scarf off of his neck and wrapping it around yours instead.

The sincere action made heat rise in your cheeks. You wondered how someone could be so energized at such an early hour. Not only was he wide awake, but he looked damn good. You could tell that he definitely didn't just roll out of bed; surprise, surprise, he had taken the time to style his hair. 

"Good morning, Potter." You grinned, standing up to conceal the gift box behind you. "Care to explain why you had me get out of bed so early?"

James paused for a moment before a frown spread across his face. "Have you forgotten something?"

You tried your best to act clueless, ultimately failing at the sight of the heartbreak written all over his face. "Okay, okay. Happy birthday, James."

He smiled widely, pulling you into a hug and resting his chin on your head. The smell of sandalwood and cinnamon filled your nose, making you sigh happily. His signature scent had grown to be familiar and comforting. 

You were snapped back out of your thoughts by his voice scolding you. "You're so mean, you know that? Pretending to forget about my birthday. Unbelievable. I want that scarf back now." James pouted.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're also unbelievable, instructing me to wake up so early to meet you here just so you can get a gift." You pulled back slightly to look up at him.

James looked down at you against his chest and couldn't help but feel a flutter in his heart. "What if I just wanted to start my special day with my girlfriend? Is that so hard to believe, Y/n?"

"Your special day?" You scoffed. "It's just a birthday, James. Not your wedding."

"Our  wedding. And no, it isn't, but it's my 18th birthday! Let me live. Now, about that gift you mentioned..." James smirked, releasing you from his embrace.

You tried to shake off the giddiness you felt from his wedding comment, clearing your throat. "I was getting to that, but I suppose you can open it now." You approached the bench, taking a seat. James sat next to you, picking up the gift box and placing it in his lap.

"Go ahead, I know you'll explode if you have to wait another second." You watched James tear open the gift wrap with the expression of a child on Christmas morning. He then opened up the box, his face lighting up at the contents.

"You're kidding." He pulled out the pair of red Converse high tops, inspecting them carefully. "Y/n, these are perfect."

"You like them?" You sighed in relief.

"Like them? I love them." He kicked off his shoes, putting on his new pair and lacing them up. "How do I look?" He stood up, looking down at his feet.

"You look amazing, James."

"You aren't even looking at my shoes." He grinned cockily.

"I know." You smiled at him, standing up. "Now, where's my thank you?"

James pulled you into another embrace, kissing your head. "Thank you, love. I never want to take them off."

"Just don't get dress-coded." You chuckled, burying your face into his chest. The warmth of his body was a stark contrast against the brisk weather, heating up your body in no time.

"Now, can we find some place to get some more sleep before breakfast?" You asked tiredly.

James chuckled, rubbing your back. "Yeah, let's go. My birthday excitement has been satisfied for now, and I'm sleepy."

The two of you headed back inside the castle, James keeping his arm around your shoulders the whole way.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The two of you roamed the empty halls in search for a cozy spot to rest. James held you close, supporting the weight of your tired body.

The sound of stones shifting broke the silence, causing both of you to stop in your tracks and look to your left, where the sound was coming from. Both of your jaws dropped as you watched the wall form into a secret doorway.

"...Are we seriously sleepy enough to hallucinate?" James inquired, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I don't think so." You said, approaching the door and reaching out for the handle.

"Wait!" James exclaimed, to which you raised a brow. "What if this is a trap or something?" He questioned, stepping in front of you. "I'll open it."

Too tired to argue, you nodded and watched as he pushed the door open.

Inside was a small room, holding the appearance of a cozy bedroom with one large bed in the middle. 

"What is this place?" James stepped inside, examining the details of the room.

"This must be the Room of Requirement." You realized.

"No way. The Room of Requirement was kind enough to lend us a bed? How sweet." James chuckled, carefully taking his new shoes off before flopping himself onto the bed. He shifted onto his back, getting under the covers and patting the spot next to him.

You happily obliged, joining him in the bed and pulling the blanket up to your chin. "This must be the most comfortable bed I have ever laid in."

"Me too." James sighed, pulling you in by the waist. "Let's get as much rest as we can before breakfast, hm?" He burrowed his face in your neck, closing his eyes.

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

That evening, you waited in the library for your date with James. That is, until Sirius barged in through the doors, receiving a loud shush from the librarian. "Sorry." He mumbled, scanning his eyes over the room before spotting you.

"Y/n!" He whisper-yelled, lightly jogging over to you.

"Sirius? What are you doing here? Trying to crash my date?" You questioned, shutting the book you were reading to pass the time. James was already 15 minutes late.

"Uh, about that date..." Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "James can't make it."

"What?" You were the one receiving a shush this time, causing you to lower your voice. "Why not?"

"Well, you see..." Sirius stifled a chuckle. "He told me to let you know that he's in detention for being out of dress-code during class. He said something about improper footwear."

[theseventhveil1945]

"It was the film that had everything - a bit of Pygmalion, a bit of Trilby, and a bit of Cinderella. Apart from all that it's an intriguing psychological drama and was one of the first films to have a hero who was cruel. Most male stars up to then had been honest, kind, upstanding, good-looking men that the female star was supposed to feel safe and secure with for the rest of her life when they finally got together at the end of the film. Not so with our smash hit. The men saw me as a victim and the women thrilled to Mason's power and cruelty, as women have thrilled to this since the world began, however much they deny it... it's interesting too, that the film has a lot of sex in it, although there are no love scenes between Mason and me. " - Ann Todd THE SEVENTH VEIL (1945) Dir. Compton Bennett

[unnamedmedicalprofessional]

Marvel and DC comic book characters, and other long running characters like The Doctor from Doctor Who, James Bond, or The Simpsons, being stuck in a specific unending status quo eternally can be frustrating as a fan, but I think if you look at it from an in-universe perspective there's a certain compelling tragedy to it. It's just another form of being doomed by the narrative.

Long running franchise characters are essentially cursed to a sisyphean existence where they can never permanently win against the evils they fight against, they can never really change the world, and they can hardly ever fully overcome their own personal flaws. In a sense, this can be relatable. We in the real world can change, individually or societally, and we should work to do so, but it can often feel like we're stuck in a cycle repeating the same things over and over again, individually and societally. The only happiness long running franchise characters can have is that they must find peace with their stunted corporate mandated existence. One must imagine sisyphus happy. I really like when franchise media leans into this tragedy, Ram V's run on detective comics is a good example. You can also read that subtext into the Doctor Who episode Heaven Sent.

[ennaih]

Every Film I Watch In 2023:

248. In The Mouth Of Madness (1994) -- a rewatch

[uncertainwallflower]

28. ❛ i told you to stay still ❜ 💗

And two months later I am finally getting to this prompt...apologies for the wait! Prompt list by @omgjumin. (@jilymicrofics)

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

“I was thinking Mulciber is a prick who needs to be put in his place every once in a while.”

“Yeah, but”—her voice fell to a whisper—“it could’ve been so much worse.”

His voice grew tender too, his eyes softening from their defensive flare. “But it wasn’t.”

“I know.” Her head was hung, eyes inspecting the toes of her black leather shoes, fringe shielding her wet eyes from view. 

“Lily.” He reached out a hand with his uninjured arm. “C’mere.”

She yielded, flooding into his chest in a heartbeat. Hers was a prayer to protect him from harm. His was a one-armed breath of fresh air after a stale few hours in the Hospital Wing.

She pressed a kiss to his mouth and he noted the damp smudges on her cheeks.

“Hey. What are these for?” His thumb brushed them away.

“For you, Idiot. I thought he was going to kill you—he looked so mad.”

“He couldn’t kill me if he tried.”

“James.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” And he pulled her back into him, arm properly slotting around her waist, chin resting atop her dark red head, eyes closing to the afternoon light flitting through the windows. “You know...Madam Pomfrey isn’t in her office right now.”

She couldn't help her ridiculing laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

She didn't have to see his face to know he was wriggling his eyebrows, and she laughed again as he all but pulled her onto his lap with his good arm and swallowed her shriek with his lips. Fervent, needy lips.

A moment passed before she broke away, resting her forehead against his. Breathing deeply. “I’ll kiss you on one condition, Potter.”

“And that is?”

“You have to stay still."

He looked pained for an altogether different reason than that under the bandages across his chest, neck, and shoulder. But he agreed.

A speedy matter of rearranging limbs later and their fronts were pressed up against one another like daisies between books, moulding to each other’s lines and angles. His hand was in her hair, fingers gentle on her scalp. One of hers cupped his jaw, the other gripped his shoulder—the good one, the naked one—using it to steady herself as he rocked up into her the slightest bit and her head spun. 

He winced.

She set him with a stern glare. “I told you to stay still."