#there can only be one james and he was very clear about that

[meelusinee]

NEW NUMBER | R.L X READER

word count \ 2.0k | fluffy fluff | slash / remus lupin x reader

in which you get remus' number at the bakery he works at

NEW NUMBER | REMUS LUPIN X READER

Remus had decided he needed a job.

His friends had money. James, Sirius, Regulus, Lily. Even Peter, who wasn’t rich but wasn’t poor. 

Not like him at least.

So he decided to get a job. He didn’t think he could have a job in a Wizarding area, as much as he wanted to. It wouldn’t be safe, to say the least. 

Which led to his journey to a Muggle town. Small, just outside of Hogsmeade, with an older style surrounding the buildings. There was a lot of greenery and other calming elements, wide sidewalks and scooters for transportation.

Plus, he found a job as a baker. 

He only needed training for more advanced things. Remus had muscles big enough to carry the pounds and pounds of flour and other ingredients. And he knew recipes, which he learned when his mother tried to distract him as a kid.

It was nice. 

He had great coworkers, and a good genre of customers. A calming environment too, which helped his pain a lot better than he thought it would. He also lucked out with his boss as well, who was also a Werewolf trying to make a living. Which meant the payment could be given to him in Galleons rather than Muggle currency.

Some days, he came to the bakery even when he wasn’t called in for work. The coffee was amazing, to say the least, and the food was even better.

His job seemed to get even better when you joined the picture.

It was a rather boring day at the bakery. Remus had been assigned the front counter, he had been a real hit with the older ladies who came in most often. He didn’t exactly like it, but they sometimes gave him extra money as a tip.

He never complained about that.

He also didn’t complain about the phone calls, something that he didn’t mind at all. He liked the comfort of the barrier between him and the phone.

“Welcome to Bettie’s Bakery, how can I help?” his voice rang through the bakery. It was mostly empty at the moment, all except for the workers and whoever was on the phone right now.

“Hi!” 

Remus felt his heart pounding at the sound of your voice, mind running wild as it flitted through different lines of romantic poetry that he had read  over the years. Who was he kidding, it was one single word that you said. Just one.

“Hi there,” he said, clearing his throat. “How are you doing today?”

He smiled softly as he heard you giggling over the business phone, leaning both of his elbows on the counter as he listened to you. “I’m good.”

“Good?” he asked. “Not great?”

“I’ll get to great if you keep talking to me.” you giggled to him.

Remus felt a wider smile breaking out on his face as he heard that, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “I’ll be able to keep talking to you if you order something from the bakery.”

“Oh, yes!” you said, giggling. It was the sweetest sound he had ever heard in his life, sweeter than the taste of thaumatin. “I wanted to wonder if you had this bread that I really like. My friend made this tomato bisque that tastes like spaghetti, I pair it with this special loaf you guys used to make. I don’t know if you still make it though.”

“What’d it taste like?” Remus asked, assuming that you didn’t know the name based on how you were describing the situation. 

“Uh,” you mumbled. “Kinda like a Cuban loaf. Very peelable, but it had a nice crust still. It had a special name you guys made though.”

“Like a baguette shape?” he asked.

“Mhm!” you smiled. “I always cut it in half.”

“Was it Sasha’s Slice?” he asked, looking at the different breads held in their display case. “It’s a baguette with a decently hard crust, kind of sweet.”

“Yes, that one!” you smiled. “You still have it?”

“Yea, we do.” he chuckled softly, his Welsh accent coming out a bit more than usual when he was talking to you. Maybe it was the natural comfort he felt around you, despite the fact he barely knew you. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe he was just tired, and it had nothing to do with you.

“Am I gonna see you in here?” he asked.

“If you’re there before closing.” you chuckled, the sound of your keys jingling in the background.

“I’ll be here after close.” he said, his voice a bit hoarser before he cleared it. He held the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he started to look around for things to distract himself with, writing random words on a piece of paper to look like he was doing something. “My night.”

“Well, I hope I see you!” you giggled. 

“Me too.” he smiled, sighing as he heard the sound of the phone hanging up in his ears.

“Hello there!” your voice chirpped through the bakery.

Remus looked up as soon as he heard it, like he was a dog and your voice was a dog whistle made just for his ears alone. Maybe your looks were too, a stunning beauty he doubted he could drag his eyes away from.

You were around his age, he could tell that much. Maybe a year younger, but he hoped that didn’t matter much to you. If something were to happen, that was.

“Hi.” he smiled as you walked to the counter. “Sarah’s Slice?”

You gasped dramatically, pointing a finger at him. “It’s you! Phone man!”

“Phone man?” he chuckled at the nickname, both of you bursting out into laughter at it. Indeed, you did meet through the phone, but it was still a rather funny nickname regardless. “I thought it’d be bread man at first.”

“Maybe ‘phone bread man’ then.” you said, watching as Remus bagged your bread.

“Phone bread man it is.” he said. “I’ll head to the bank soon, make sure they change my name. I’ll start with my nametag first though.”

You gasped before giggling, a wide smile on your face as you grabbed the bread. “Oh, why thank you! You make sure to add a ‘Mr’ in front of it.”

He chuckled, smiling at you. “Mr. Phone Bread Man. First, middle, last.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smiled bright.

Remus looked around the store to make sure nobody else was there before leaning forward a bit, his eyes now meeting yours as he spoke. “Do you come here often? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Not as often as I’d like.” you whispered. “I have school, but it’s working out okay. I’m moving down here soon, a small town just North.”

He smiled softly as he heard you ramble about the lovely town your mother would be taking you too, more so captured by the way your lips moved rather than the words coming out of your mouth. Though, if anyone asked, he was sure he could recite the talk in his sleep. Word for word.

“That’s really interesting.” he whispered.

You smiled, the bag holding your bread crinkling in his hands. “It’d be more interesting with a friend to spend my time with.”

Remus looked at you with a raised eyebrow before the both of you laughed, your eyes watching as he pulled out his phone and opened the app. He had gotten it so his boss could contact him for work schedules, something he charmed to still be usable in Hogwarts. He was sure it was about to pay off in more ways than just that now.

“Thank you,” you said, voice trailing off as you looked at his nametag. “Remus.”

“Remus.” he smiled, much like a lovesick puppy might look at its owner. 

“Y/N.” you smiled gently, holding your bread filled bag up. “And thank you, really Remus.”

Remus smiled, watching as you walked out of the bakery with your phone in hand. He didn’t know what way you were going, not yet, but he was planning on learning soon. At least, he hoped.

Remus was sat in class with Sirius and James to each side of him, foot bouncing up and down as he sat in Potions class. He had already done the assignment the night before, submitting it early so he would have time to relax.

Sirius demanded help with the potion they were working on, but Remus gave up after he began to wing it much like James. Despite the fact that James had been doing Potioneering since he was a kid, Sirius decided they were on the same exact level with potion making. James definitely didn’t help.

Which led to him sitting in silence, watching the fumes of different potions and ingredients finding their way into the air.

That was, at least, until you texted him.

Y/N: hi there!!! youre remus, right?

Remus looked at the message for a bit with a small blush on his face, biting his lip as he texted a quick response. 

REMUS: Yes, Remus. Y/N?

Y/N: i can’t believe you remembered! thats so sweet :c

Remus smiled softly at that, adjusting his posture in his seat to be more comfortable. He tried to minimize himself as much as possible, which wasn’t much given he was well into 6 feet territory. 

REMUS: You are rather unforgettable.

Y/N: and you are apparently a sweetheart

Y/N: btw i made the bread and soup!! It tasted really good, and i wanted to thank you

Remus felt his phone vibrating against his hand as you texted him more about the bread and the soup, eventually offering a photo without waiting for a yes or a no. It looked delicious, he had to admit, a cheesy looking tomato bisque soaking into the bread.

Y/N: i must be rambling so much though, im so sorry! how are you doing??

Remus chuckled to himself, not having minded your ramble one bit. On the contrary, he thought it was a rather endearing tidbit about you.

REMUS: Don’t feel sorry, I enjoyed it.

REMUS: I’m okay though. Having to suffer through classes.

Y/N: you have classes???

Y/N: i didn’t mean to interrupt them or anything, im so sorry!

Y/N: ill let you get right back to it right now

Remus chuckled softly, his fingers typing a quick response. He was rather glad that he was in the back of the classroom, Professor Slughorn not able to see far back enough to notice his phone. 

REMUS: Don’t be sorry, I’m not busy. I already completed the assignment so my friends could cheat off of it.

REMUS: Besides, I like talking to you. You’re a fun distraction. 

Remus felt his shoulder being nudged as soon as her saw your spamming of heart emojis and apologies, looking up to see James and Sirius staring at him with a rather teasing look.

“What?” he asked them.

Sirius waggled his eyebrows, nudging Remus again. “Who’re you texting?

“If you don’t back off, I’m taking my homework back.” Remus said threateningly, his eyes narrowing in a way that showed he meant every single word.

“Understood Sir!” James said, going back to his potion. As much as he loved potions, he hated following the rules with them. Which meant that he loved Remus’ notes and homeworks, his ability to understand the words and make them sound even better getting him higher marks.

Sirius just hated Potions regardless, mainly out of spite. It was Snape’s favorite subject, and he tried hard not to have anything in common with the greasy-haired boy.

Suffice to say, a lack of homework was a good threat.

Remus went back to texting you almost as soon as the two looked away. Maybe even before, he wasn’t quite sure. You were like a black hole that he was falling into, with rings of gravity around you sucking him through different perceptions of time and space before crushing him completely. 

You had him utterly hooked. Something that, surprisingly, he didn’t mind the idea of.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

thank you so much everyone for reading! i haven't been writing as much, but i'm hoping that, with valentine's day and the spirit of love fast approaching, i'm able to get more stuff done. i might make a small series of just text messages between some characters, though i haven't decided who yet, so feel free to comment if you want any specific character!

AS ALWAYS - please like, comment, reblog, and have a wistful day!

[padfootastic]

Unpopular opinion = I hate how Sirius' last words to harry were 'nice one James ' in the movies. Ik a lot of people found that really emotional and touching and all of that but it never sat right with me. In the books Sirius' last words to harry were him asking harry to grab Neville and get tf out of the DoM. Sirius might hv occasionally seen harry as more of a friend than a son, but that was never the case when harry's safety was concerned. He would never have seen harry as duelling partner like he would have for James, rather he saw harry as his godson he had to make sure was safe. That line really cheapens Sirius' love for harry imo.

STRONGLY AGREE!!!

oh my god anon i cannot tell u how much it galls me that this scene exists because like u said, it completely undermines harry and sirius’ relationship. there’s literally only one point where sirius messed up w harry and even that speaks more to his own mental state than any kind of projection on harry imo. every other time, he’s literally always kept harry (and his safety) at the top of his priority list. we have so much evidence for that. and yet the movies just. not just disregarded it but also fully reversed it. ughhhhhhhhhh it’s so annoying

[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

[moonstruckme]

Mae I feel like we always see the boys doting on reader and I love it! But also I would love a lil fic where may be James or Sirius gets sick or injured and it's reader just taking care of him and being so cautious and loving and doting on him

Thanks for requesting!

cw: modern au, MCL injury, James is not good at recovery

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 912 words

Your senses prickle at a sound from the sitting room. 

“James,” you call warily, hands stilling in the dishwater.

“Yes, my angel?” 

“Are you sitting down?” 

A brief silence. 

“I found some exercises—” 

“James.” You round the corner to the sitting room to find your boyfriend lying on the floor, looking up at you with eyes big and guileless. You wipe your wet hands on your jeans. “You’re only supposed to be icing it,” you sigh. 

“There’s no harm in getting an early start on recovery, right?” He grins his lopsided grin, hopelessly endearing. “I found some exercises online and the website says I can start right away. They’re very gentle.” 

“I don’t think the website knows more about your knee than your team’s PT, lovely,” you say, kneeling beside him. You soothe your fingertips over the velcro edge of his brace. 

James gets injured fairly often playing rugby. That’s no new thing to either of you, but he’s not used to needing to take such a long break after an injury. He tore a ligament in his knee during a match last week—you don’t remember the exact name of the ligament, but the word collateral had seared itself into your brain, recognizable and frightening—and apparently that is one of the few things the team’s PT requires players to actually take a substantial leave for. James is due to start recovery therapy in a few days, but for now he’s only meant to be resting and icing the injury. He is not taking it well. 

“You could make it worse by doing more than you’re supposed to,” you tell him gently, stroking his calf below the brace. “Don’t, okay? I really don’t like seeing you hurt.” 

James’ expression softens. He sits up, giving you a nice kiss. “I’m okay, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t make it worse,” you say again. 

“Okay. I won’t.” 

“Thank you.” You kiss him in return, stroking the hair that curls by his ears. “Will you come sit back on the couch, please? Where are your crutches?” 

James makes a low sound, caught anew. “Upstairs.” 

“You didn’t even bring them down?” 

“I get along just fine without them,” he says, pecking your chin placatingly. “Don’t worry.” 

You sigh and coil his curl around your finger. James gives you a smile, sweet and hopeful. Don’t be mad, it begs you. 

Your lips turn up a bit in response as you stand and reach your hands down to him. “Come on, then.” 

James lets you help him back over to the couch. He flops down onto the cushions dejectedly, taking the ice pack when you give it to him and holding it to his knee. Sympathy swells in your ribcage. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I know you’re bored.” 

“It’s not your fault that it’s boring. I just wish I could do things I want to, like usual.” He tries on a grin for your benefit, a poor approximation of the real thing. “I know it won’t be for long.” 

You chew the inside of your lip. You know you have to get back to the dishes, but you can’t stand to leave him like this even to go to the next room. 

“What would you do, if your knee was like normal?” 

James’ grin turns wry. “I’d go to training.” 

“Okay, right.” You roll your eyes, leaning your hip against the side of the couch. “But while you were at training, all hot and tired and stuff, what would you be wishing you were doing instead?”

James lifts his eyebrows, contemplative. His gaze moves to you. “I suppose,” he says, “I’d be wishing I was here with you.” 

Your heart warms. “What would we be doing?” 

He grins. 

“You’re not cleared for that, either,” you say quickly, laughing. 

“Fine, fine.” He feigns annoyance, but his smile gives him away. “In that case, I’d settle for a film and a good cuddle.” 

You nod, stepping closer to the couch. “I can do that,” you say. “I don’t know how good it’ll be, but…” 

“Oh, you haven’t got anything to worry about there, angel.” James takes your hip once you’re close enough, tugging you down beside him. You’re careful not to fall too close to his injured leg. “You’ve got an excellent track record.” 

“Do I?” 

He hums, kissing you. 

“I’m not hurting you, sitting here?” 

“You’re perfect,” he assures you. He gives your hip another tug to bring you closer. “Get comfortable, I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” 

You do as he says, still cautious as you cozy up to his side, encouraging him to lean into you. James rewards you by nuzzling his face into the side of yours, happy as a clam. His voice softens as he drops it to a more genuine register. 

“I’m not keeping you from anything,” he asks, “am I?”

You shake your head. “The dishes can wait. I’d rather be with you.” 

“Christ, lovie. I can still do dishes.” 

“You’re supposed to be resting!” 

James makes an amused huffing sound. “Okay, new deal. After the film, I’ll go do the dishes while you handle the more laborious task of laundry or something. Sound fair?” 

When you’re silent, he laughs. 

“You can’t force me to sit on this couch forever! I’ll atrophy!” 

“Maybe we can see how you feel after the film.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” He stamps a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll sneak and do the dishes in the night if I have to.” 

“You will not.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

My Cup of Tea

Fandom: Marvel (Celebrity AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You’ve spent 2 years trying to get Bucky Barnes on your interview show Coffee Shop Date and the chemistry is undeniable between you two.

You watch as Bucky takes a seat across from you. The small cafe in Brooklyn was empty besides you two. The smell of coffee beans brewing and pastries baking fill the air.

“So…it’s happened,” You state plainly.

Bucky chuckles as he settles into his seat more, “It has.”

“Did you finally get tired of rejecting me?” you ask with a teasing tilt of your head and a smirk on your lips. This has always been how you and Bucky behaved around each other at events.

It all started one fateful night at the Emmy's. His show, Echoes of the Crown, being nominated for Best Drama Series. He came up to you on the red carpet and he exclaimed excitement because he's watched your show. You then invited him to come on and he said he'd have to get back to you since his schedule is packed at the moment.

For the past two year, you've been keeping in contact with him and his publicist to see if your schedules would align. In-between that, you'd constantly tease him at events and award shows about how he keeps ghosting you. People of the internet have commented on the clear chemistry between you two, hoping that some day the stars would align and he'd be on your show.

After all this time, he's finally found the time to come onto your show Coffee Shop Date.

He laughs, “I wasn’t rejecting you! I’ve been busy!”

You roll your eyes, seemingly unconvinced, “That’s basically a nice way of rejecting someone, James.”

He playfully winces, “Oh boy. My government name. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

You take a sip from your mug. The cafe uses an array of mismatched dish and drinkware, giving the overall vibes of the place very fun and homey.

You change the subject, “Is this your go to place?”

He looks around and nods, “Yeah. One of my favorite places to go to when I’m home. They’ve been around for over fifty years.”

“It’s cute.”

“You’re cute.” Bucky says with a grin.

You bite back a smirk, “What’s your go to coffee order?”

“Black coffee or cold brew.”

You raise a brow at him, “No sugar? Do you hate sweet things?”

He smirks at you, “If I hated sweet things, I wouldn’t be on this date with you, would I?”

"Alright then, Casanova."

"You're not fond of black coffee?"

"Not my cup of tea," you say jokingly as you lift your mug to your lips for a sip.

"Well you're my cup of tea."

“…you’re laying it on thick, Barnes. You usually like this on dates?”

“Only when I really like the person.” You hide your smile in your mug and he asks, "What about you? You usually this snarky with your dates?"

You shrug, "Only with the ones who keep cancelling on me."

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head, "How long you gonna hold that over my head, sweetheart?"

"For as long as I want or until I find something else I can hold over you."

He takes a sip from his own cup and then gestures to yours, "You always drink tea?"

You glance down at the cup of hot black tea with milk and sugar and shake your head, "Not always. Depends how I'm feeling. Sometimes I like tea, other days coffee, or even a matcha."

He scrunches his face up in distaste, "I tried matcha and I don't really like it. Tastes like grass and dirt to me."

You scoff, "Maybe because you haven't tried good matcha. Some places have good matcha, others not so much."

"Maybe you can take me to a place with good matcha after all this," he gestures to the cameras and crew.

You look at him in surprise, "Are you asking me on a real date, Barnes?"

"Second date."

"So confident I'd want another date with you?"

He leans back in his chair with a smirk, "Sweetheart, for two years, you've been trying to get me to go on a coffee date with you. I'm pretty sure you'd like to go on a second date with me."

"So cocky."

This playful, flirtatious banter gave you a bit of a thrill. It was fun to flirt with Bucky and tease him. He was obviously a handsome man, but he was also charming and funny. There was just something about him that made you feel a little more daring and comfortable.

"So tell me, what's something that scares you?" he asks, as he rests his elbows on the table, leaning closer to you. His eyes completely focused on you.

"Birds."

He laughs, "Birds?! Specific kinds or all kinds?"

"All. They freak me out with how they fly around, can swoop at you any moment. The talking ones freak me out the most. Animals should not be able to talk back!"

Bucky looks at you in amusement, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter, "That wasn't an answer I was expecting."

"What kind of answer were you expecting then?"

"I don't know! Maybe spiders or heights?"

"Okay, what about you?"

"Reptiles."

"Like snakes?"

"Not just snakes, but also lizards. I don't like how they move. It freaks me out." He answers with seriousness.

You continue to converse with each other until your director yelled cut for time. You and Bucky visibly relax.

"Thank you again for coming on," you say with a genuine smile.

Bucky's eyes twinkle as he nods, "Of course, I mean, you were very persistent for this to happen."

"Well, not just me. The entire internet too. Are you ready for the storm that's about to hit once this airs?"

"I am. I mean, they're all right, we have great chemistry."

"I suppose we do."

"So...how about a real date?"

You can't help but widen your eyes in shock, "Oh, you were serious about that?"

He nods, "Absolutely. I really would like to get to know you better without all the cameras and crew."

"Yes, of course. I can take you to a cafe I know that actually does serve amazing matcha!"

He laughs, "Alright. It's a date!"

______________________________

Bucky Barnes Spotted With Interviewer, Y/N L/N

buckysnumber1fan: SHUT THE FUCK UP. HES FINALLY GOING ON COFFEE SHOP DATE

buckysluvr: FINALLYYYYYY. i love the chemistry they have!

thatoneguyonhere: miss girl is living my dream and im mad but also happy for her. ;__;

jbbhoe: wait, is this a real date or just for coffee shop date????

______________________________

"Well, well, well, look who we have here!" your friend and fellow interviewer, Carol.

You wave at her as you and Bucky approach, "Hi, Carol!" you give her a hug.

"How does it feel to be on the other side of this?" she asks, holding out her mic to you.

You snort, "So weird, but this guy finally convinced me to accompany him," you point to Bucky and he smiles at Carol.

"I told her she had to experience this at least once in her life. And much like her, I'm very persistent when it comes to something I want."

"This must be surreal for both of you considering that a few years ago at this very event, you two met and instantly clicked. Now look at you two!"

Bucky sighs, "Yeah, it's...it's a little funny how we've come to a weird kind of circle moment. We're both back here together, but our relationship with each other has completely changed. But I wouldn't have it any other way." He looks at you with fondness in his eyes and kisses your head.

Carol beams at the affection shared between you two, "Well alright, you two, I'll let you two go. Enjoy the rest of your night and, Bucky, congrats again on another nomination."

"Thanks so much!"

"See you around, Carol!" you wave to your friend as Bucky directs you further down the red carpet.

[girlkisser13]

being married to james "logan" howlett would include

• logan's protective nature is heightened when it comes to you. whether it’s shielding you from danger or simply ensuring you have a coat on a cold day, his instincts to keep you safe are always present.

• you and logan often go on adventurous trips together, from hiking through dense forests to exploring remote locations. he enjoys these moments of peace with you, away from the chaos of his usual life.

• logan isn’t the best with words, but he shows his love through actions. he’ll fix things around the house, cook breakfast, and take care of anything that might be bothering you without being asked.

• despite his rough exterior, logan appreciates the quiet moments with you. he loves sitting together by the fireplace, a glass of whiskey in his hand, enjoying the simple pleasure of your company.

• logan struggles with his past and often has nightmares or moments of doubt. you’ve become his anchor, the one person who can calm him down when the memories become too much. he never thought he’d find someone who could handle his darkness, but you’ve proven him wrong time and again.

• you’re one of the few people he allows himself to be vulnerable around. he shares his fears, his regrets, and his hopes with you. your relationship is built on mutual trust and understanding, a bond that he never thought he’d have in his life.

• logan has a dry sense of humor, and he loves to tease you in a lighthearted way. it might be a comment about how you can’t keep up with him on a run or how you hog the blankets at night. it’s his way of showing affection, and it always makes you smile.

• he’s not overly affectionate in public, but in private, he’s incredibly tender. he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, nuzzle his face into your neck, and kiss the top of your head, murmuring how much you mean to him.

• logan is fiercely loyal to you. he would go to any lengths to protect and defend you, no matter the cost. You are the one constant in his chaotic life, and he values that more than anything.

• he often trains with you, whether it’s sparring or teaching you self-defense. it’s his way of ensuring that you’re capable of handling yourself if he’s not around. plus, he secretly enjoys watching you hold your own against him.

• logan can get a bit jealous, especially if he senses someone might be interested in you. his feral side can come out, and he’ll make it clear that you’re his. but you know how to calm him down, reminding him that he’s the only one for you.

• despite his rough exterior and sometimes gruff demeanor, he’s always gentle with you. whether it's holding your hand or helping you with something, he treats you with a level of care that shows how much he cherishes you.

• logan enjoys cooking, especially when it’s for you. you often cook together, and he loves watching you try to keep up with his culinary skills. there’s a playful competition between you two, but he secretly loves when you take over, especially if it’s a dish you’re passionate about.

• you both cherish the mornings when you wake up before the world does. he will brew coffee, and you’ll sit together on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, watching the sunrise. these quiet, peaceful moments are some of his favorites.

• logan is a bit of a wanderer, so sometimes you’ll pack up and just hit the road. these trips are spontaneous, often with no clear destination in mind. you’ll spend hours talking or sitting in comfortable silence, enjoying the open road and each other’s company.

• despite his rugged persona, he is surprisingly good at planning special dates. he’ll take you to a hidden spot in the woods for a picnic or to a little-known jazz club in the city. he knows how to make these moments feel intimate and unique, showing you just how much he cares.

• logan’s enhanced senses mean he’s very attuned to your scent. He finds comfort in it, and when you’re apart, he’ll wear one of your sweaters or keep something with your scent close to him. it grounds him and helps him feel connected to you even when you’re not physically there.

• he has a tattoo dedicated to you. it’s a personal symbol, something that reminds him of you and your love. it’s one of the few permanent things he’s ever had, and he likes the idea of carrying that piece of you with him always.

• logan isn’t much for texting or phone calls, so he leaves you handwritten notes around the house. they’re often simple, like "breakfast is ready" or "miss you, see you tonight," but they mean the world to you.

• he has moments of surprising tenderness. he’ll brush your hair out of your face, trace the outline of your features with his fingers, or cradle you in his arms like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

• logan loves reading, and the two of you often share books. you’ll recommend novels to each other, and he’ll surprise you with rare editions of your favorite books. it’s a quiet way of bonding, discussing the stories and characters over a glass of wine.

• the two of you have developed a way of communicating without words. a look, a touch, or even the slightest change in body language is enough for you to understand each other. it’s a testament to the deep connection you share.

• logan has an immense amount of patience when it comes to you. whether you’re upset, confused, or frustrated, he never loses his temper. he’s calm, steady, and supportive, knowing exactly how to help you through whatever you’re facing.

• he LOVES to surprise you with unexpectedly romantic gestures. he’ll bring you wildflowers he picked on his way home, or he’ll play a song on an old record player, pulling you into a slow dance in the living room. he’s not traditionally romantic, but his unique gestures show his deep love for you.

• logan is extremely vigilant in social settings, even if it’s just a casual gathering. he keeps an eye on your surroundings, making sure you’re comfortable and safe. if anyone makes you uncomfortable, he’s quick to intervene.

• despite his long life and all the losses he’s endured, logan dares to dream about a future with you. he talks about places he wants to take you, things he wants to experience together, and the kind of life you could build. you’re the first person who’s made him believe in forever. <33

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Once Upon A December

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Of all the things your heart used to know, things it years to remember, Bucky Barnes is at the top of that list.

A.N. - I feel like you guys just haven't been made aware, but one thing about me, I love a good musical.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Anon's Birthday Celebration

Bucky softly swallows the air that seems to get more sparse as he thinks, truly thinks, about his latest conclusion. "I just - I think it's time."

His hands fold together, he hunches over, barely able to tear his eyes off the ground.

"I can't tell you what to do here, Buck."

"I know."

"Do what you think is best."

"Best?" He bitterly chuckles. "There is no best. I just - I'm hurtin' the both of us by holding on. And I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I feel so guilty every time I look at her." Bucky lightly gasps for air. "And God, I - Sometimes, I think that maybe that's the reason I'm the only one she doesn't remember."

Steve grips Bucky's shoulder, "Buck... it wasn't your fault."

"How do I let her go?" Bucky brokenly whispers. "How do I mourn the love of my life when I know she's right there, she's alive?"

Steve finds himself at a loss for words. There was no answer. Nothing he could say. It was a truly impossible situation. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head, clearing his throat, "I should go talk to her."

"I think she was in your - in her room."

Bucky winces at the correction. It wasn't their room anymore. Now, it was your room. He'd given you the space to try to regain that void in your memory.

And yet, it's all so painfully familiar. It's muscle memory. Walking to your room. Knocking on your door. The only difference is now, it doesn't feel like coming home, it feels more like the procession to his own funeral.

"James..." Your tone is flat, unsure as you open the door. He hates the guilt glistening in your eyes. He sees it every time you look at him. He hates that he's the one that made you feel that way.

When it first happened, when he first realized that he was nothing but a blurry figure dancing through your memory, he tried telling you.

He tried filling every detail of your epic love story in your mind. He tried forcing himself back into your memories. Nothing brought back the look of love and adoration in your eyes.

He offers a heavy smile, "Hi. Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping away from the door to allow him into his former home. The place looks the same, with the notable exception of the traces of him.

You settle on the couch. He sits on the small loveseat, perpendicular to you. "How are you?"

He licks his lips, offering a small shrug, "I start therapy in a few days again."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

Your voice is far more curt than you intend, "I didn't remember anything if that's what you're asking."

His heart stammers, "No. That's not what I meant."

"Sorry, I didn't sleep very well. Not that it's an excuse."

"Nightmares?"

"Just the same one." You're not sure how much detail he cares to hear, but the way he waits for you to continue is almost a comfort. Your eyes squeeze shut as the memory plays on a loop. "I - I don't remember the mission. Just bits and pieces. I was alone. On the rooftop. And then I see the HYDRA agent's face. When they push me. That's where the nightmare starts... I fall. It's dark. I can hear someone screaming my name. And it's over."

"You weren't alone on the roof."

"What?"

"I was on the roof with you. We were scoping out the area. They came out of nowhere."

Your eyes widen. It clicks. The sound of the voice screaming after you. It almost perfectly matches the timbre of his voice. Only now, his voice sounded strained, tried. "You were screaming my name."

Bucky nods, "I jumped after you. I didn't make it in time. I found you laying in your own blood."

"I'm sorry, James."

He hates the sound of his name so formal leaving your mouth. He can't help himself as he speaks, "You never used to call me that."

"Oh?"

A sad smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth, "You only called me James when you were upset. Or when I was annoying you."

A light chuckle leaves your lips, "What did I call you when you weren't annoying me?"

"Bucky. Buck." He shrugs. He swallows the knot forming in his throat, his voice wavering, "A lot of pet names. I pretended to hate it, but I didn't."

You look up to see tears shining in his eyes. His voice breaks as he continues on, "You called me Sarge when you were joking or being flirty."

You reach forward, squeezing his hand. A tight knot forms in your throat, "I'm sorry I can't be the girl you remember."

He looks down at the warmth of your hand resting on his. He's acutely aware that this is the first time you've initiated contact with him since you forgot him.

He swallows back his tears, "You didn't take off your ring."

"It didn't feel right to." You start sliding the ring off, "I should probably give it back."

He immediately stops you, "Keep the ring."

"Steve said it was your mother's. I couldn't."

He shakes his head, his heart clenching with pain, "I won't need it."

You rest your hand on your chest. Your heart yearns to remember him, to remember his place in your life. It was right there. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. You could feel the memory of him glowing in the recesses of your memory, glowing as dim as an ember.

You were so close, and yet, it wasn't enough. "I want to remember. I so badly do."

He stroke a stray hair out of your face. Sitting this close to you, he takes a long moment to memorize every detail. The slope of your nose. Your eyes. Your lips. He knows he'll never be this close to you again.

He had to stop hurting you. He had to stop hurting himself.

"I know."

You rest your forehead against him. It feels both so foreign and so familiar all at once.

"Can I - Can I kiss you?" he asks. "Just one last time."

You nod, your heart shattering at the sound of the hurt in his wavering voice.

His flesh hand rests against your cheek. Your breath shudders, dancing across his lips. His nose brushes against yours. Once. Twice. You find yourself leaning forward, closing the distance. His lips brush against yours hesitantly at first. You can't help but notice the way they mold against yours perfectly.

The song that vaguely echoed in the back of your mind gets louder and louder, echoing with thoughts of him. The memory of him rattles against your skull, begging you to remember.

Your hand moves from its place on the cushion to his shoulder. Slowly, it creeps down to rest just above his racing heart. You hum against his lips, pulling yourself away from him.

You look up at him, your eyes shining up at him like they once used to. "Bucky?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Anon's Birthday Celebration

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[grunckle]

On stars, guardians, and Rain World’s cosmology.

One aspect of Rain World lore that’s asked about quite a lot but normally never gets satisfying answers is the topic or Rain World’s space/universe/cosmology. Despite first impressions though, there’s a lot more it than meets the eye, so I thought I would compile most everything we know about it.

For one, to get it out of the way, Rain World isn’t on a planet, and its universe is fundamentally different from our own. This is something Joar has talked about on occasion.

He also said on an earlier dev log how Rain World functions more like a fantasy world where it doesn’t hold much relevance than a real sci-fi like planet.

“Oh, another thing - Rain World isn't a planet lol Cheesy Or I guess it might probably be on a planet, just as Lord of The Rings, Sex And The City, Zelda and Frankenstein's Monster are probably technically on a planet, but just as in those examples the planet aspect isn't really relevant at all. Rain World is more of a fantasy world or a dream world, not somewhere you can go in a space ship ~”

But even if it’s not incredibly relevant, it’s clear a lot of thought was put into Rain Worlds fictional cosmology, this was even mentioned by James.

So, that being said here's what we know about Rain World's cosmology in game.

The biggest indicator of Rain World's unique cosmology is that the Farm Arrays deep pink pearl just mentions celestial spheres, which are aspects of older cosmological models.

"This one is just plain text. I will read it to you. "On regards of the (by spiritual splendor eternally graced) people of the Congregation of Never Dwindling Righteousness, we Wish to congratulate (o so thankfully) this Facility on its Loyal and Relished services, and to Offer our Hopes and Aspirations that the Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory Cooperation may continue, for as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres and/or the Cooperation continues to be Fruitful and Mutually Satisfactory." ...May Not as long as the Stars stay fixed on their Celestial Spheres Grey Hand, Impure Blood, Inheritable Corruption, Parasites, or malfunction settle in Your establishment."

More subtly, there's also a mention of the ground colliding with the sky.

"If you leave a stone on the ground, and come back some time later, it's covered in dust. This happens everywhere, and over several lifetimes of creatures such as you, the ground slowly builds upwards. So why doesn't the ground collide with the sky? Because far down, under the very very old layers of the earth, the rock is being dissolved or removed. The entity which does this is known as the Void Sea."

You could chalk this line up to flowery language, but considering the presentation of the rest of the dialogue, it sounds more like an actual aspect of this world.

We know from the Chimney Canopy echo that the sun rises.

"From within my vessel of flesh, I would perch upon this spot to observe the rising of the sun."

And from the top of The Wall we can see the moon and stars (confirmed to be stars by Joar in the previous screenshot, instead of satellites or something else) , which are green!

So, what does this all mean? I think we can entail a few things with what they've given us.

For one, the mention of the ground colliding with the sky implies some sort of firmament, which isn't an unusual concept in the general realm of celestial spheres.

But on the topic of celestial spheres, the pearl actually isn't the only place we see the concept. Guardian halos are very similar to depictions of celestial spheres, and also astrological clocks.

You can make of this as you will, perhaps the astrological references being tied to guardians could hint at the nature of karma, but there isn't much to really delve into that idea.

For what it's worth, celestial spheres are also core concepts in Gnosticism, which Rain World is heavily inspired by. I explain it more in this post about Void Worms, but for a quick synopsis in Gnosticism there are seven planetary spheres, and an eighth above them; the planets and stars are fixed to their spheres. These things just further cement the fact that celestial spheres seem to be a key aspect of Rain World's cosmology, and it would also likely imply it's universe follows a geocentric model.

For a bit of a more out-there theory, people have pointed out how the view atop the wall stretches really far, going far beyond what we could see on a spherical planet like Earth, which has led some to theorize that the world is also flat.

But what is probably the most important aspect of Rain World's cosmology is the nature of dust. Dust builds up, and the bedrock of the world is eaten away at by the Void Sea. Civilizations rise and fall into the sea as new ones are built above it. Many, including myself, believe that the world exists in a sort of state of equilibrium. The world is dissolved from the bottom, then that falls back on the world as dust; even in the final moments of the game we see dust suspended in the void sea depths.

And hey, even void worms are described as being star-like.

"Oh, interesting. This is a diary entry of a pre-Iterator era laborer during the construction of the subterranean transit system south of here. In it they describe restless nights filled with disturbing dreams, where millions glowing stars move menacingly in the distance."

Cyclical, recursive, something else entirely? We can never really pin down the true nature of Rain World's cosmology, but the things we do get hint at something strange and unique. It's such an interesting aspect of the lore, and it seems like Videocult will continue to make mysterious cosmologies in their future projects...

[neverenoughmarauders]

Lily's meaningless sacrifice

One thing that irks me is when people suggest that in canon, Lily had any idea that Harry would survive (this is merely a canon post, nothing to do with fanfiction). It irks me, partly because it's just incorrect and that's the sort of person I am. More importantly, however, it irks me because Lily not stepping aside when she had nothing to gain from dying is fundamental to the story.

Let's start with JKR own words from an interview in 2005:

MA: Did she know anything about the possible effect of standing in front of Harry? JKR: No - because as I've tried to make clear in the series, it never happened before. No one ever survived before. And no one, therefore, knew that could happen.

Lily knew nothing about the possible effect of standing in front of Harry. Lily was faced with this choice:

Scenario 1: Steps aside, and Harry is killed.

Scenario 2: Be killed, and Harry is killed.

Scenario 1 is (on the surface) objectively better (unless you're a DE and thus want less muggle-borns around). To Voldemort, it's a simple choice: In both scenarios Harry will die, in one, Lily will survive. In fact, this is what makes a lot of people defend Severus' choice to only ask Voldemort to spare Lily. Severus could not save Harry (and apparently it's totally cool not trying to save others if they bullied you).

Lily could not save Harry.

Lily's choice, as far as she is aware, is not whether to save Harry or not, but whether to save herself. And yet, Lily cannot stand aside. As JKR points out earlier in the interview, what Lily did is not that surprising to us readers ("I don't think any mother would stand aside from their child"). Why? Love. Because, as Dumbledore reminds us on multiple occasions: there are worse things than death - most notably in DH:

"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love."

Love, and life with and without love is an undercurrent in the story. Lily's sacrifice is meaningless when made, and yet it's the biggest and most understandable expression of love anyone can show someone else. Lily cannot, and does not want to, live in a world where she has witnessed her son being murdered - especially when her husband has been murdered too. A world without Harry and James is no world for Lily Potter.

It is also - bear with me - not that different from what it was like to be in the Order at that time:

[Y]ou weren’t in the Order then, you don’t understand, last time we were outnumbered twenty to one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off one by one...

“He — he was taking over everywhere!” gasped Pettigrew. “Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?”

The Order operated against the odds and were being picked off one by one. As Peter asks - what was there to be gained by refusing him? What was there to be gained from standing (metaphorically or not) in front of Voldemort's victims? I've said this before and I'll say it again, Sirius' answer is powerful:

“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed?” said Black, with a terribly fury in his face. “Only innocent lives, Peter!” “You don’t understand!” whined Pettigrew. “He would have killed me, Sirius!” “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED!” roared Black.

Only innocent lives. They weren't fighting this war because they were winning. In fact they were very much losing. But they were fighting because it was right thing to do. Many Order members chose to die, rather than to step aside and let Voldemort take over. Only in their case it didn't make a difference - or at least, it didn't feel like it at the time. Members were murdered, and Voldemort was just getting stronger and stronger.

What was there to be gained by refusing Voldemort?

I firmly believe this is a theme that is repeated throughout the book: not just love and choice, but the obligation to choose what is right, no matter the odds (the irony that this was written by JKR will never be lost on me), and how love is a powerful motivator to do just that. Doing the right thing might seem hopeless in the moment - wasteful even - but that doesn't mean it's not worth doing, or that in the end, it won't add up.

Imagine what Harry felt like at the end of PS/SS when he risked his life to stop Voldemort, only to realise that Voldemort would keep trying to come back:

“Well, Voldemort’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?” “No, Harry, he has not. (...) Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time — and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”

Harry Potter isn't about doing the right thing because it will bring you rewards, but because it is the right thing.

“Remember Cedric. Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”

This speech doesn't sit well with a few people because it sounds like you're asked to remember what happened to someone who did do the right thing (spoiler: he died). But that's not the point, of course. Cedric wasn't killed for doing the right thing or making a hard choice - Dumbledore asks the students to remember Cedric because the enemy is willing to kill innocent people indiscriminately. Standing aside will not be good enough against people like Voldemort. There is, as Dumbledore put it, a need to keep fighting what seems a losing battle. Why? Only innocent lives.

Both James and Lily die that evening because they are unwilling to let Voldemort near their innocent son as long as there is breath in their bodies. James had no choice (this irks me because he did, he could have run away - he could have not fought Voldemort in the Order to being with. They all had a choice, but not the point). Lily had a choice. And she chose, like many had before her, to fight what seemed like a losing battle. She died, not knowing that she had saved her son. Her sacrifice was meaningless - like so many before her - and yet her sacrifice changed the world.

In the end, by choosing to do what was right, she was granted the wish she most desired: Her son lived.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Whumpcember (day 18)

Pairing: Prince!Bucky x Princess!Reader

Prompt: Poisoned

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Vivid descriptions of illness; poisoning; worried!Bucky

Author’s note: Don’t ask me where this came from, I have no idea. But, thank you for reading! <3

Masterlist | Whumpcember Masterlist

You hear him pacing outside your chamber.

His boots strike the stone floor in sharp, angry bursts.

Occasionally, the sound halts, but his voice doesn’t. He’s fuming. It started with low, threatening murmurs that soon escalated into raised voices - or rather one raised voice. He didn’t really let anyone else come to word. You can only assume he’s talking to his guards.

He’s on edge. Has been ever since your first symptoms appeared.

It started this afternoon, as you and Bucky - or Prince James to everybody else - strolled through the palace gardens.

It had been a great day, a little cold, but not terribly so. You had been laughing with him, feeding the ducks by the pond and he had playfully threatened to throw you in there himself if you told Knight Samuel about the way he had picked up some flowers for you at the edge of the water. Your laughter after that wasn’t very lady like but it just got worse when he started chasing and tickling you.

But you started to feel it as the two of you settled under the big willow tree.

It was a discomfort in your stomach, an unease that settled and burrowed, deeper the longer you dismissed it.

Bucky, of course, had picked up on your shift immediately and rushed you back inside. By then you already were pale, clammy, and lightheaded.

Now, confined to your chambers by Bucky’s orders, you’re surrounded by an entourage of healers, endlessly fretting over your condition.

They hover at your bedside, fingers continuously brushing your forehead, checking your pulse, mixing tinctures, and murmuring theories to one another in hushed voices.

There are always at least two or three of them at any given time, a constant rotation that leaves you feeling scrutinized, yet strangely detached from their fussing.

You can’t even roll over without one of them pausing to announce it to your parents and Bucky

It feels as though every thirty seconds, someone is rushing out to deliver updates to him.

He demands to be told everything; the slightest change in your complexion; the smallest shift in your breathing. He refuses to let the healers leave anything unsaid. And he takes every single one of the smallest updates on your condition with a seriousness that could have made you laugh in any other circumstance.

His clipped and commanding tone drifts in from the hall and you feel a little bad for the people receiving it.

Normally, the prince is full of composure and control, but that only ever seems to shatter when it comes to you.

You picture him out there, bristling with anger, his jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists as he barks orders and questions on how this could have happened. How you could have ended up falling ill.

He barely lets anyone else talk and when someone does, it doesn’t seem to be a good enough answer, judging the unmistakable sound of something heavy - perhaps a boot or a fist - striking a wall.

You wince again at the sharp pain tormenting your stomach. Your skin feels too cold one moment and burning hot the next, as though your body can’t decide whether to shake or sweat.

The faint dizziness from earlier has grown into a persistent haze that seems to move to your vision slowly, making it a little harder to get a clear picture. You try to blink it away.

There is a bitter taste at the back of your throat that no amount of water or tea can wash away.

The healers whisper words like poison when they think you’re too weak to hear them, but you hear them all the same.

The door to your chambers creaks open. The sound is urgent, and before you know it, Bucky is at your side. His movements are stiff, almost forceful, and though he likely doesn’t mean to, he brushes a healer away in his haste to get to you.

The poor man stumbles back, his hand still clutching the damp towel he’d been using to cool your fever.

But Bucky pays him no mind. His focus is singular, and he takes the towel himself.

With a tenderness that almost undoes you, he presses the cloth to your forehead. His touch is infinitely soft. It’s the kind of touch that aches.

He looks at you, you notice.

You feel it rather than seeing it. His gaze burns hotter than your fever does. Slowly, weakly you tilt your head to face him better. It takes effort. The hotness raging beneath your skin deliberately melts away your vision, making Bucky swim before you.

But you see enough. Enough to say that he left his furiousness outside in the hall. Here, inside, with you, this is just Bucky. Bucky as worried and unfiltered as he can get when it comes to you.

Your thoughts come slow. Lazily dragging through your mind and switching directions too often for you to latch onto something specific.

The towel brushes against your temple again, and though the coolness should bring relief, his touch you notice more.

His lips are moving, you realize when your eyes start to roam his face. He’s talking to you, but his voice is not yet fully meeting your ears. His words swim just like his face, in and out of reach.

You blink sluggishly, barely able to focus, but sounds start to come in.

He, like the healers before says something about poison. And it’s not the word that leaves the pain in your chest, it’s the way he says it. With his voice so quivery and rough.

“-slow-acting poison-” you catch again, with the same tone. “-subtle enough no one noticed it until it was too late.”

He calls your name then, and you blink a few times. The heavy blue of his eyes builds its picture in your mind and you try so much to focus.

He is breathing heavily. His lips are parted. His brows are knit together and his face is morphed in a grimace of desperation and pain as he still lets his eyes sear a hole through you.

He drops his head for a moment, exhaling sharply. He releases an anguished sound with it and clears his throat. He seems to be trying to focus too, just for other reasons.

“The testers,” he continues, and the sharp pain punctures your stomach again. Because the thickness in his voice sounds too much like guilt to you. So much guilt. “They… they are in the same condition as you. Same symptoms, same timeline.”

A shaky breath rattles out of him again as he swipes the towel over your forehead once more, dabbing your skin.

His eyes flicker over your face. There is a wetness to them. His pupils can’t stay in place, moving swiftly between your own eyes as if he’s searching for signs in you. Shadows spill across his gaze, fear trembling in the sheen of his watery blues.

“I should have caught this.” His voice is a whisper but it sounds like gravel.

He can’t go down that road again right now. Not when you’re in no condition to protest and argue with him as you normally would.

You even have problems swallowing. You have to put effort into blinking.

There is no way you can tell him that this is in no way his fault.

His hand curls into a fist against your bed. “I should have known something wasn’t right,” he only continues.

He did know. He knew the second your eyebrows began to crease ever so slightly by the swift pain pouncing on your stomach.

There is no way he could have known earlier.

But you can’t tell him that.

Your voice is a fragile thing right now, not even able to build up deep inside.

Bucky shakes his head again, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment. All you can do is watch. Well, try to watch.

“I’ve got the guards tearing this place apart - every pantry, every kitchen, every bloody corner. Somebody did this. Somebody thought they could hurt you, and I am going to find them.” His voice hardens with each word, but his hand softens as he reaches for yours. He threads his fingers through yours so gently and carefully, it doesn’t help with trying to breathe evenly.

“I will make them pay.” It sounds so determined, so terrifying if you were any other person.

His thumb strokes over your knuckles, while the towel still pads your face. It’s slow, and steady, grounding himself as much as you.

“But right now… right now, all that matters is you. I need you to fight this, alright? Darling? I need you to stay with me.” His voice cracks. It buckles, just not with the grace he is known for, but unevenly and unceremoniously. His next breath stumbles over itself and his gaze drops to your hand in his as though he’s ashamed to let you see the whole of his fear.

Your chest rises and falls in a slow, shallow breath, and as you exhale with an unsteadiness, it feels like you’re letting go of something you can’t quite name. The faint sound catches his attention immediately and his head snaps back up to you, again searching your eyes, your face, your body.

They don’t stray from you for a few heartbeats, as though he’s afraid he’ll lose you if he looks away for even a second.

Bucky straightens up, his presence suddenly larger. He leans closer, so close that you can feel the warmth of him bushing over your fevered skin. His free hand uncurls from his fist, white knuckles, going up to your face.

Soft fingers sweep back the strands of hair that cling to your damp face. The motion is unhurried, almost delicate, and for a moment, the coolness of his touch - or rather, his touch alone - is the only thing keeping the fading light of your awareness on for some time longer.

His thumb lingers at your temple, tracing lightly, and it is astounding to you that he managed to make you forget about the poison cursing through your veins for a tiny second.

His heart seems to have spilled entirely into his gaze because the emotions drowning there overwhelm you. They’re so deep, so afraid, so concerned. All you want is to grant him a reassuring smile. But your lips fail you.

“You are going to be okay.” It’s a plea and a promise. He speaks as if saying it out loud will carve it into stone - will make it reality. “This will not take you away from me. I’ve got you. I am right here. Please. You are going to stay with me.”

He leans closer still, as if closing the distance makes his words sink deeper, might make them take root into your fading consciousness.

His hand stays on your face, his other hand still holding the towel, his thumb brushing over your cheek. His touch is steady, although his voice isn’t.

There is a fire in his eyes, an unyielding resolve burning beneath the fear like he’s daring the universe to take you from him.

And you won’t let it take you, you tell yourself.

You will stay with him.

But you just need some sleep at the moment. And when you wake up, you will fight this unwelcome substance in your system.

But first, you have to get some sleep.

Just a little sleep.

[saintsenara]

Do you think harry is more similar to lily or James

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i think the assessment of harry's character which dumbledore gives to snape in deathly hallows is more or less the correct one:

“He is his father over again -”  “In looks, perhaps, but his deepest nature is much more like his mother’s.”

which i think can be expanded upon really interestingly as an example of something which the series does really, really well - how it obscures the fact that lily is the key to the mystery right up until the last minute.

the things harry has in common with james - not only his looks, but his quidditch talent, his impulsivity, his disregard for the rules, his arrogance, his cunning, his beef with snape, his adoration of sirius, his belief that his uncle is faintly ridiculous, and his bold, flashy courage - are big and explicit and demonstrative, and the text lampshades that they're inherited from his father at every opportunity.

[and not only in how many characters mention that he looks like james. voldemort - for example - mentions james' demonstrative bravery - facing him "like a man" - every time he and harry interact; sirius and lupin never mention lily when discussing harry's personality, even when what they're talking about is how he's not like james.]

the text also goes out of its way to suggest that similarly big aspects of lily's character have not been inherited by her son - the most obvious example of which is that, in half-blood prince, the incandescent talent at potions which has slughorn raving about how like his mother harry is... is actually the result of harry cheating [and cheating from a textbook he's convinced for much of the book might have belonged to james].

the only thing the text emphasises again and again that harry has inherited from his mother are his eyes.

and - in doing this - the series is actually telling us something very clear about what it understands harry to have in common with lily.

eyes are a frequent motif throughout the text, which are almost always connected to the themes of authenticity and truth.

dumbledore's eyes give away his true feelings in goblet of fire - when the "gleam of something like triumph" comes into them after he learns that voldemort used harry's blood to resurrect himself - before serving as a metaphor for the way the information about the prophecy is being withheld from harry in order of the phoenix when he refuses to make eye contact with him.

[dumbledore's eyes also stop "twinkling" after voldemort returns, in a sign of how serious the situation - which the ministry never appreciates the full gravity of - is becoming.]

occlumency and legilimency - the obscuring and seeking of truth - depend on eye contact. the teenage tom riddle's eyes - with their gleam of red - give away his true depravity, even when he's still outwardly charming and beautiful. the teen snape sees the reason for his obsession with the marauders "wrenched from him against his will" at the force of lily's glare [and the adult snape frequently averts his own gaze from harry when he clearly doesn't want to risk seeing anger or pain in lily's eyes]. ginny's love for harry - her "never giving up" on him, her willingness to wait and endure while he goes off on the horcrux hunt - is communicated by a "blazing look". the basilisk kills by looking - but doesn't kill anyone in chamber of secrets, since the truth about the culprit isn't known. and so on...

which is to say - the series regards the eyes as the windows to the soul [an idea which is connected to a verse in chapter six of the gospel of matthew - the verse immediately preceding which, "for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also", is inscribed upon kendra and ariana dumbledore's graves] and to the true, inner nature of a person.

in mentioning again and again that harry looks like james except for his eyes, what the narrative is doing is hinting to the reader that harry's big, obvious, showy similarities with his father mustn't let them miss that the more subtle traits of his personality - his steadfastness, his quiet courage in the face of hopelessness, his ability to love so much it changes the entire course of history - come from his mother, and that what he inherits from lily will be much more important to the resolution of the story than the things he inherits from james.

this is a clue it plays with really nicely - particularly because harry doesn't really care at any point prior to the last third of deathly hallows about what he inherits from lily more than he cares about what he inherits from james.

we - as readers - go through his experience of learning that his mother is the key to the whole mystery in real time - when we join harry in snape's memories - and we walk into the forest with a harry who now knows the whole truth: that he's more like his mother than he's previously realised, and that he'll therefore be able to do the same thing that she did, and die so that others might live.

“You won’t be killing anyone else tonight,” said Harry as they circled, and stared into each other’s eyes, green into red. “You won’t be able to kill any of them ever again.”

[miedei]

hii, i saw your requests are open, so i was thinking how about spencer and reader have a fwb thing going on, but he always told her not to get attached, so she breaks things off and spencer seems fine with that, until he realizes that she goes on dates with other people so maybe they fight about it and they confess their feelings

YES i love this concept nonnie my love this is amazing

not jealous

ex-fwb!spencer gets jealous, but he doesn't have any feelings for you... right?

cw: a little suggestive i think, i can't be held responsible for the things i think ab spencer reid, wrote this in a fugue state that's the only way i can explain this

wc: 1.2k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Penelope Garcia is one of Spencer's favourite people in the world, but at this very moment he feels the shameful urge to tell her to shut up.

"Honey, you'd love him! He's a doctor at the hospital a few streets down, so he understands the whole married-to-the-job thing, and he's smart! Just one date, my love, please? You can totally ghost him afterward if you hate him, though I don't think you will," Garcia is perched on your desk, right across from Spencers, so he can't tune this out, despite his repeated attempts to.

You can't help but sigh, staring up at Garcia as she continues to speak. She means well, you know that. You never told her what happened, but she can tell that you've been lonely, and she's doing everything she can to help.

You can't tell her, you know that, but it doesn't stop you from wanting to.

"It's probably best if we stay like this. We can be coworkers, friends. It'd be easier if we stay unattached."

The words Spencer said to you months ago are still fresh in your mind. You'd agreed, drunk on the feeling of being wanted, and you were aware that feelings would make things more complicated. You knew that, and yet-

"Spencer, we need to stop. I can't do this no-strings-attached thing anymore."

"Then we can- we can stop. We'll stay friends, right?"

"Right."

Months of stolen moments, hotel room beds, and tangled limbs had gone to your head, and cutting it off had been the best thing to do. Spencer had made it clear that your arrangement was only viable when both of you didn't have feelings, and you knew that.

Getting over someone is hard enough, but Spencer Reid is worse. He's always there, soft smiles and rambling conversations. He seemingly hasn't been affected by the end of your situation at all.

Snapping back to reality, you look up at Garcia, who's looking at you with a hopeful smile. You can see Spencer out of the corner of your eye, staring at his monitor like he couldn't care less who you date.

It's infuriating.

He's over it! He was probably never as attached as you were, why would he care if you date?

"You know what? Give me his number."

"Yes!" Garcia pumps a fist before swooping down to press a kiss to your cheek. "You won't regret this, I swear!" She grabs a business card out of her pocket and hands it to you, squeezing you one more time before flouncing off.

You fondle the stiff cardboard once, before placing it down on your desk.

Spencer hates him. James Lee. The cursive scripture on the business card stares up at him, mocking him as he tries to work. Your desk is always neat, knickknacks all in their proper spot, so the card is out of place, that's why Spencer can't stop sneaking looks at it.

He's a doctor. So is Spencer. Three times over! If you wanted to date a doctor, why not look for him instead of James Lee, MD.

A PhD's much better than an MD anyway. More effort.

He sighs. He's being petulant, he knows that. You're allowed to date people.

Even if Spencer's the one that knows the way you stretch when you've just woken up. Even if he's the one that's felt your skin under his hands. Even if he's the one that's learned how to elicit those sounds from you.

He can't take it any more, rising abruptly from his desk, stomping over to the kitchenette. The coffee pot is nearly empty, and he pours the dregs into his cup, spooning sugar into it with barely restrained movements.

He can hear Emily humming, Morgan tapping his pen against his desk. He can hear you, typing away at your phone.

He can't take it any more.

Stalking over to his desk, he picks up a random file, and stands by your elbow.

"I need to talk to you about this file. Can you help me find the other report?" He all but melts with relief when you set down your phone, following him to the storage room readily.

Being in close quarters like this causes memories to come rushing back, and you can't help the blush that comes to your face. Shaking your head slightly, you look up at Spencer, resolutely shutting out the images in your mind.

"What report are we looking for?"

He looks sheepish, but his eyes are intense as he looks down at you.

"There's no report. I need to talk to you." You tilt your head in confusion, focusing entirely on him. "Don't go on a date with him."

"What?"

"That guy." He nearly spits out his words. "Garcia's friend. Don't go out with him."

What? He's acting weird, completely still as his eyes blaze into yours.

"Why do you care if I go out with him? Garcia said he's a good guy, I trust her."

He shakes his head. "I'm- I'm sure he's normal. Nice. But you shouldn't go out with him."

He's infuriating, dancing around whatever he means.

"Why, Spencer? I think this would be good for me! I want to have fun."

"With him? You don't know him! Why not go out with someone you-" He cuts himself off, his hand flying to his hair in frustration. "Why this guy? Why not someone you know?" If it weren't Spencer, you'd say he was growling, his eyes dark.

Is he angry at you for going out with this guy?

"What? Are you seriously mad at me? For what?" His eyes flash at your words.

"Why date him? Why not-"

"Who would I date? You? Are you angry at me for dating someone else when we never dated at all? Spencer, you wanted no feelings! I did what you asked, I ended- whatever we were, because you said we shouldn't involve feelings!" Your chest tightens, looking away from him.

"What are you saying? You ended it because... Why didn't you tell me?" He ducks his head, trying to meet your gaze. You've had enough. Enough of his maddening words, making you feel bad for doing what he asked of you.

"Spencer, you're being unfair. What more do you want me to tell you? Do you want me to tell you that I wanted more? I ended it because I caught feelings, and you didn't want that, so I told you we had to stop because I couldn't hide it from you, not when we were always together, and-"

You're stunned into silence when his hands come up to frame your face, impossibly gentle as large fingers trace your jaw.

"You're right, I said that." A hand travels higher, cupping your cheek. "I shouldn't have, though. I should've... should've told you."

You can't help but whisper, the intimacy of the moment blanketing the small room in quiet. "Told me what?"

As if in answer, he ducks his head towards you, and you instinctually crane your head upwards to meet his lips.

It's practised, even if it's been a while. Your hands travel up his sides, bracing your palms on either side of his jaw as his come down to grip your waist.

His lips are soft yet insistent, pressing against you like he's trying to impart a message. Lips part, breath stolen, and it's minutes before either of you pulls back.

Your forehead presses against his, chest heaving. His eyes are light, and a breathless giggle leaves his lips as he looks at you.

"Don't go on that date. Please."

"You're going to have to take that up with Garcia."

[vidavalor]

"is, and always has been"

In 1.01, The Voice of God said:

Everyone knows that the best place for a clandestine meeting in London is, and always has been, St. James' Park.

Visually, as she's narrating, we see a lot of indication of the type of clandestine meeting to which she's referring being those between intelligence officers, yes?

St. James' Park in Good Omens is swarmed by background characters of people trying to look casual on park benches with newspapers and briefcases and every type of fun, spy movie cliche there is. Our main characters are also spies on different sides of a conflict so we're definitely getting the surface-level vibe of espionage here pretty easily...

...but that's when it's important to note the inclusion of the "is, and always has been" in her narration.

This gives the audience permission to bring into the story the full history of St. James' Park in London when taking into account her meaning. It's encouraging people who do not know this history to go look it up and apply what they learn to the story. [Many of you likely already know this park's history but I have seen a lot of indication in posts that many do not so that's why I made the post.] The line in The Voice of God's narration is worded in such a way that we don't actually fully understand her meaning unless we know more about the history of St. James' Park.

One does not have to do a ton of digging to get the gist of what's being referenced here, though. It doesn't take long with even just the most cursory of skims-- using only the park's entry on Wikipedia as a source, even-- to find this relevant bit of info:

While Charles II was in exile in France under the Commonwealth of England, he was impressed by the elaborate gardens at French royal palaces, and on his ascension he had the park redesigned in a more formal style, probably by the French landscaper André Mollet. A 775-metre by 38-metre (850 by 42-yard) ornamental canal was created as evidenced in the old plan. The king opened the park to the public and used the area to entertain guests and mistresses, such as Nell Gwyn. The park became notorious at the time as a meeting place for impromptu acts of lechery, as described by John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester in his poem "A Ramble in St James's Park".[12]

Should one wish to, I can attest that one can find some very entertaining reading material regarding this period of English history with a little further additional research. The general idea, though, is that, in much wilder times in its history than the last few decades, St. James' Park was absolutely competing for the prize of being history's most notorious hookup park.

By taking pains to include St. James' Park's history with the "is, and always has been" part of the line, the park's history is then reflected in what types of clandestine meetings we're discussing. It makes it clear that we're not just talking about spycraft but also about sex.

And what of the immortal characters The Voice of God is discussing? The ones who were alive and in England during this more amusingly debauched period of St. James' Park's history?

Are Crowley and Aziraphale new to the park, having just started clandestinely meeting here a couple of months or years ago, while St. James' Park has been in its modern, more genteel, spy era?

Definitely not is what we're specifically, emphatically, told by The Voice of God. 😂 They've been backchanneling in these woods for quite awhile now...

[moonstruckme]

heyy, so this is my first time sending an ask, i dont know if u do repeated themes, but im so obsessed with bodyguard!james, maybe we could have some angst where he puts himself ia a dangerous situation to save reader and she gets mad/upset at him? love your work very much, they brighten my day🙌

Thank you for your request <3

cw: shooting, blood mention

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

James says your name, soft and worn with exhaustion. “Can you look at me, please?” 

No sooner do you oblige than your vision blurs again. There’s a cruel line across his perfect cheek, leaking blood where the glass sliced across it. Your fault. 

James sighs. “Sweetheart,” he says, knuckles finding your cheek. They brush away your tears without intent, less a purposeful act than a byproduct of a caress. “It’s okay.” 

“It’s not,” you insist. Your voice burns like fire, and yet you don’t remove his hand. Even furious with him, you crave James’ comfort. 

His expression tightens when you blink more tears down your cheeks. You wonder if it hurts. You wonder why he’s sitting here with you in your room instead of going to get his cut cleaned or patched or whatever he needs to do, but really you know. You’re always the priority. Even when the threat has passed and protocol no longer requires it, James will always take care of you before taking care of himself.

Your voice comes out softer without you meaning for it to, soft but not thin. “You shouldn’t have moved.” 

“It’s my job to protect you,” says James. 

“I was safe!” 

“You weren’t safe.” Now it’s him who’s being firm. James sets both hands to your shoulders, looking you in the eyes. Not angry, but ardent. “Someone was trying to hurt you. You were in trouble, and I needed to get to you.” His lips tilt slightly, not without sympathy. “That’s my job.” 

You chew your lip, tasting salt in the seam. He makes it sound so simple. So innocuous, too, someone was trying to hurt you instead of someone was shooting at you. James always plays things down this way, softening them into something less horrific, less violent. Another way he protects you, you suppose. 

You’d been going down the hallway with James, chatting about something useless, when the large window you were walking beside sprouted a hole. Your next step stalled, perplexed, and in that time two more holes appeared, with cracking sounds and the tinkling of broken glass on the floor. You and James moved at the same time, his hand reaching for your arm a heartbeat too late as he retreated toward one side of the window and you—stupidly, considering it was a greater distance—threw yourself to the other. 

By now, James’ team knows the shooter was likely some sort of sniper; no one with a gun could have made it onto the property and the bullets were fired singularly instead of in a spray. A spray, you probably wouldn’t have survived. 

The shooting stopped when you were both away from the window. You looked at James across it as you pulled your knees in tight, making yourself small between that window and the one behind you. The air in your lungs felt dry and stale. James was looking back at you, eyes wide but face controlled as he scanned you over. 

“I’m okay,” you said. Whispered, though you don’t know why. 

James nodded, standing. “Stay right there,” he told you. 

You only had a second to be concerned about why he’d say that before he was running back across the window. Your body tensed on instinct, but you were too slow to stand as glass sprayed, punctured by another bullet. James landed with his body covering yours. 

You thought he’d been shot. For a handful of panicky, heartbreaking moments, you’d searched for the wound, feeling for wetness at his neck, his side, his heart, until he managed to catch your hands, whispering, It’s okay, sweetheart. We’re okay. 

There’d been no more shooting after that. James had spoken to people in his earpiece, and you’d both stayed hidden, and eventually someone had said back that you were clear to go. Now James is sitting in front of you on your bed, alive but bleeding and looking like he might like to hug you if you let him. You haven’t let him. 

He watches you gnaw on your lip. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he says softly. 

You scoff. “As if you get to talk.” 

James smiles, but you don’t smile back. You’re not ready for that yet. It fades as a new wave of tears crests your cheeks.

“I don’t want you to protect me anymore,” you say weakly. “I don’t like when you get hurt for me.” 

His brows bend, big thumbs moving soothingly, almost absently, over your shoulders. “You can’t get mad at me for that,” he says. “It’s how it needs to be. You know why.” 

You sniffle. “Because it’s your job.” 

“Because it would kill me if anything happened to you.” His eyes bore into yours, deeply earnest. 

“James…”

“It would destroy me,” he says. 

You look back at him. Your heart feels like it’s beating in the hollow of your throat. You’re no less upset with him, but now there’s another feeling in the mix, not new but inconsistent. James’ eyes dip to where you’re still chewing your lip. He reaches for it, thumbing it free from between your teeth. 

“Stop that,” he pleads. 

You swallow. “You can’t just say that.” Can’t pretend he’s here for any reason other than it’s where he’s paid to be. Can’t act like he cares about you half as much as you do about him. 

James looks wounded. “Why not?”

“It’s not fair.” 

“I don’t think you’re being very fair. You were in danger, and I did what I needed to get to you. You can be angry at me if you want, but I don’t see how I earned it.” 

Your face is hot again, emotion prickling just beneath your skin. “Because I’m not the one who gets hurt, James!” 

“I know.” His voice goes soft to counter your loudness, his hand moving back to your cheek. A warm touch over warmer skin. “I can’t be sorry.” James’ lips touch underneath your eye. You tilt up into them, and he turns his face down. “I can’t.” 

You taste your own tears on his lips. James kisses you gently, coaxing, not wanting to take any more than you can give. Your throat closes as you push your hands up his shoulders, wanting to prove it to him; that you can give, and give, and give. He tempers you when you get too frantic, pulling you back with doting touches. 

You open your eyes to run a thumb gently beneath the line on his cheek. Emotion steals your breath. “I’m sorry for this,” you manage. 

James covers his hand with yours to kiss it. “It was my decision.” 

“A stupid one.” 

He makes an amused humming sound, noncommittal. “We’re okay, though, aren’t we?” 

“What, you think you can just kiss me and I’ll instantly feel better?” It’s a bold thing to mock, when your head is still buzzing and your lips feel warm and tingly. 

“No,” says James, sincerely, “of course not. What can I do?” 

You look at him, fighting the urge to take your bottom lip between your teeth again, if only to see if it feels different. “It wasn’t not helping,” you admit. 

The smile that takes James is so overwhelmingly sweet it almost does make you forgive him for everything. Almost. As his lips close over yours again, you think you can find it in yourself to make it all the way eventually.

[kizzer55555]

Dismissed on a Technicality

Ok so Danny accidentally killed the joker. He was working part time as a taxi driver. Funny thing is that he got hired in the city next to Amity Park. The problem is some moron decided to have him drive aaaalllll the way from Amity to Gotham city. And Danny might have run over the Joker while there.

Look…he didn’t feel like a human. Danny (as someone half dead) can feel souls and he could only barley feel anything from the guy so it just looked like a blob in front of the road. He thought it was an animal or something! Danny was short on time so he was going pretty fast. And drivers Ed was very clear that one is NOT to swerve the car to avoid animals as it causes the car to go into other lanes and can cause a crash, especially in a big city. It’s sad, but it’s true, better to run over the poor animal.

So Danny hit the gas.

Only to be greeted with the face of a clown smashed into his windshield.

Danny stopped the car.

He got out.

Looked around at all the people of the city staring at him (no longer cowering as Joker went on a monologue, holding them at gunpoint while waiting for a bat.)

Danny looks down as the mangled corpse sprawled over the front of his taxi.

And he pulled out his phone and called 911 to report a car crash. In front of everybody.

When Batman arrived, Danny held out his hands and willingly let them be cuffed. Time to be taken to court!

Now one might think Danny would be panicking in this situation. After all, he just killed someone, even if it was on accident. But Danny had a different point of view and made it known in court.

It was a whole thing. Full courthouse, practically the entire city attending or watching on a live news feed. And who did Danny call to defend him as his lawyer?

Himself.

And this begins the most confusing and controversial court in the history of Gotham.

Now, what defines a human? Because according to the law it’s ‘anyone capable of speech or higher reasoning.’ But that cannot be. There are aliens and Atlanteans who fit those categories and they do not classify as human. And what about that demon the Justice League killed last week. The one with 2 snake heads and a hippo body? That thing could talk. What about being a Homo sapien capable of speech? But there is an entire city of talking gorillas. Therefore, the definition of human should be revised.

As for the Joker, he had many differences to the typical human. When he fell into a vat of chemicals it changed his very atomic structure physically and altered his mind mentally. Those gassed with Joker venom can be turned back but Joker’s transformation was permanent. Meaning the change occurred at the level of his very DNA.

Which begs the question. Is the Joker really human? And if not, is what Danny did really murder?

Let it be known that Daniel James Fenton is not trying to get out of his crime.

Despite his appearance, the joker was alive. He was breathing, had a heartbeat, and blood flowed through his veins (despite that blood being green).

So yes…Danny committed a crime. And he confesses in front of the entire court.

He confesses…to animal cruelty.

[thalthanmadanus]

Draco is THE antagonist of the story and I'm lowkey sick of people diminishing his character's importance in the story and to Harry's character development. so I'm writing an essay about how Draco as a character is fucking important especially his antagonistic arc

💅

1. The crumbs:

First of all, and this doesn't get mentioned often, Draco is the first magical kid Harry meets his age.

Not only that, he is our first glimpse at two major upcoming conflicts in the series: Blood Supremacy, and Hogwarts houses.

Draco plays the important role of the narrative foil to Harry. (even wikipedia references them in the "foil" page)

Draco's main function as a character is to showcase Harry's best traits, through being his most worst. Unlike, Snape and Voldemort, Draco is more concerned with creating internal conflicts for Harry than external ones.

He is the character that says mudblood the most, with the frequency decreasing every book. He is the character that plays with/teases/bullies the psychological vulnerabilities of the trio (specifically Ron and Harry). He is one of the few characters that give rational criticism (against Hagrid, calling out the trio dynamic..) that, taken outside the keyframe imposed by the author, can showcase the flaws in Harry's views and his bias. He is also the only character that shows moral self-reflection that isn't motivated by either a reward or "love", which not only serves as character development for Draco but for Harry too who grows to sympathize with Draco, a small breakup from his fixed binary morality.

Draco is also a very active character. His actions and choices affect the plot. The majority of the first book literally happens because of his dumbass. In the second book, he is our first introduction to the word mudblood, he's also the main suspect to the two main mysteries. If Draco wasn't such a bitchass, would buckbeak gave been in said place for Harry to use him to save Sirius?

He is important narratively but what interests me is his importance to Harry's arc.

What separates Draco from other antagonists is that he creates internal conflicts that stem from his personal conflicts with Harry, because of Harry as a person. Not because Harry's the chosen one standing in his way, not because Harry's lily or James's son. Because Harry's Harry. and this exchange is mutual.

Their personal dynamic is set up in their first meeting. Harry, upon hearing two sentences from Draco, reacts negatively because of deeply personal issues (Dudley). I don't think Harry reacts personally to any other characters the way he did with Draco? Considering that Draco wasn't even hostile in his first sentences.

While Draco targets both Harry and Ron, there's a clear difference in how Draco bullies them both but also how Harry and Ron perceive Draco.

Draco is crueler on Ron. And his bullying doesn't feel personal, just apathetic, humiliating and mean. It feels like Draco is more cruel on Ron because Harry chose Ron over him and it shows by Draco coming back every now and then searching for Harry's compartment, trying to egg him, to look for a way that will make Harry regret rejecting Draco.

About Harry & Ron perception about Draco, it's showcased in the second book by the two main major events Draco was suspected in

1. Opening CoS. It was Ron who suspected Draco for this, not Harry. Ron suspects Draco for an action that affects everyone in the school.

2. Sending Dobby. Harry suspects that it was Draco that sent Dobby to prevent Harry from coming to school. Harry suspects Draco of an action that targets him specifically, and his reason of suspect? "because Malfoy hates me". It's personal.

Another instance of Harry making every issue personal with Draco: In the fifth book, after the sorting hat's song about houses unity

'And it wants all the houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table,where Draco Malfoy was holding court. 'Fat chance. '

I'm also pretty sure the reason why Harry chooses not to be in Slytherin was 50% because Draco got sorted into Slytherin. the other 50% being Hagrid telling him that Slythering are eviiil. Btw a conversation that wouldn't have happened if Draco hadn't brought up houses in their first meeting.

Like I said, most of the plot in the first book goes back to Draco.

My main point is that the relationship between Harry and Draco as characters is beyond goals, motives, obstacles, moral causes bla bal bla, and is on the spectrum of "I took that personally".

2. the main plate:

Draco transitioned in the sixth book from an antagonist to a "side character" with a life. His role as character no longer functioned by his connection to Harry.

and this is where a flip of dynamic happened, where Harry became the antagonist to Draco's arc.

He's the one following him. He's the one egging him on (in the first 5 books,it was always Draco starting conversations with Harry, but in the sixth book, it's mostly Harry who started conversations with Draco) He's the one hurting him (Sectumsempra) (even on accident). He's the one trying to create obstacles to Draco's goal.

and why is that? why was Harry so obsessed with Draco?

If it were because of a moral righteousness, then why not focusing on Snape who's probably more suspicious? like who cares about Draco.. yeah he's sus but Dumbledore says it's not important..

This line of thought is more Ron and Hermione because they don't share the kind of deep personal issues towards Draco like Harry does.

so why is harry so obsessed?

"Harry, knowing and loathing Malfoy, was sure the reason could not be innocent."

This line in the sixth book explains it. Harry knows and loathes Draco with more emphasis on *knowing*.

Harry admits that he knows Malfoy, of course the fruit of labor of staring at Draco for five years, but why does he even stare in the first place? Because Harry is curious about Draco.

In comparison with Snape and Voldemort, our other antagonists,  Harry doesn't show the same enthusiastic curiosity for them. At least not the same way he does with Draco. Most of what we know about Snape and Voldemort are shown through external ways. Either their memories of memories of other people about them. Their character arcs happen outside Harry's vision,  either in the past or in a memory. It's not Harry who seeks those information. They come to him.

Draco, on the hand, most if not all of his character development happens in front of Harry. From his bullshit in the five years to him crying in the bathroom, him lowering his wand, him lying in the Manor. even the visions that Harry sees through Voldemort about Draco torturing Rowle, are happening in the present. Draco's character development is laid bare in front of Harry. 

but back to his obsession in the sixth book, it's because Harry knows Draco so well that not only he's right about him being a DE, but "Malfoy being up to something" is not something new to Harry, it's actually a normal thing that kept happening for 5 years of his life. Malfoy was always up to smtg. It's this idea of a normality that fuels like a new purpose in life for Harry after being wrecked by Sirius' death. Not only the mystery tingles his detective neurons, he knows he's right about Draco which only fuels his persistence. Draco being a person he hates also downplays the guilt/shame Harry could feel while stalking him. like I'm sorry but Harry was shameless and embarassing the whole year. The way Hermione and Ron looked at him sometimes so funny, also Hermione distancing herself from Harry when he talked to McG about Draco like "idk this person". Harry was kinda giving pre-HBP Draco vibes lowkey.

This shows that Harry himself is motivated by personal feelings (though negative) as an antagonist to Draco's arc himself.

And the important point here is the flip of dynamics. Draco is not just a mere side character in Harry's life. If anything, the moment he tries to become a side character with his is own arc, Harry is forcing himself in it. Because they're both foils to each other. It doesn't work on just one side.

The dessert:

The dynamic completely evolves again with the end of HBP as Draco gains a moral sense and Harry watching Draco's character development unfolding gains a more nuanced view than his old black/white one.

In DH, Draco and Harry are not antagonists anymore to each other. Draco and Harry are kind of heroes to each other?? as they both try to save each other like two times.

A lot of people downplay Draco's lie in the Manor, comparing it to Dudley's "You're not a waste of space" as "character development" moment.

bruh.

Dudley said that after Harry saved him. Draco literally was the one who took the initiative to lie, expecting no reward, literally had more to lose by lying, he was literally acting against his own interests, his family's life was in danger!!! Harry saved Draco after Draco saved him.

also Draco's character development started with him lowering his wand.

but back to being each other heroes. Our other comparison is Ron who is in both situations where Harry saves Draco but he's the one reacting negatively and complainig about them saving Draco, not Harry. Which is funny because Ron says "we saved you" but in both cases it's Harry who's doing the saving and Ron is  just there witnessing, and again I don't think he still realizes what was happening since the sixth year. He thinks his hostile feelings towards Draco are the same ones Harry has. That they're similar. Ron.. Harry literally almost risked your life to save Draco.

It also speaks of character development from Harry that he's not reacting negatively anymore towards Draco. He grew out of it. Like Draco also was starting to grow out of his toxic ideologies.

They're both growing up simultaneously.

And Draco was The first wizard kid Harry talked to (with no precognition or insidious motive)

Draco was the first character who he flew with

Draco was the first character who he dueled with

and so in DH,

Draco was the first character who tried to help Harry with no selfish motive

Draco was the first character that flew with Harry on the same broom (at least I think so?)

Draco was the first and only character whose wand Harry dueled with against Voldemort and won.

I wish I could write more. About Sectumsempra. About wand connection. but I'm tired.