#this one's got a little kick to it!

[leechjuice]

devouring my own book on the first read like it's a piece of untoasted white bread with butter and a lil peanut butter

[foodiegoogie]

made the mistake of reading this in public, now im doing the 'try not to sob ur heart out' challenge by accident

who hurt u san 😭😭 WHY MUST U SUBJECT ME TO THIS PAINNNNN GODDDDD NOOOOOOOO oh but this was so good tho ur writing is always so beautiful <3

memory | j.p.

tw: mentions of sex, cancer (apologies for any misrepresentation), main character death

james potter x reader

You were laying down with your head at the foot of your bed, staring up at the ceiling and tracing the cracks in the corners with your gaze. It was something you seemed to be doing a lot lately. There’s nothing on your mind, it seems you have no energy to even think these days.

Your husband doesn’t knock before he enters, he never does. You don’t mind. His voice is soft as he coaxes you out from where you’ve taken sanctuary in a softly lit corner of your brain. He calls your name a few times, rubs his fingers lightly on your wrist. You come to.

“Hi.” You sound hoarse.

James smiles gently, sliding his fingers down to your hand to give it a squeeze. “Hey. Lost you for a second.”

“I’ve been lost for hours, I think,” you murmur, voice straining as you push the heels of your palms into the mattress and sit up. James opens his mouth to ask if you want to talk about it, but then thinks better of it. He doesn’t want to tire you out when you’re like this.

Droopy eyes, sunken eyelids. Your lips are chapped and teeth yellow. You tell him that you’re fighting, you’re really trying – but he knows better. You’ve already given up.

You use your hands to feel for something on the bed around you, frowning when you come up with nothing.

“What do you need?”

“A hairband. But hold on, I can get it –”

He shushes you, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you so your back is facing him. It scares him to feel your shoulder bones peeking out from underneath your thin T-shirt, rough edges to your soft soul. He knows it’s not your fault, but can’t help but feel angry anyway. The medicines and treatments were supposed to help you, not wear you down until you were nothing but a walking skeleton. Not even your soul was intact; cancer had stolen your will to live too.

The silence is deafening as he wraps the hairband around what little is left of your hair, the strands few and far between. He even takes care to brush the hair on your sideburns back.

You think about striking up a conversation but decide against it. The moment was soft, so you would let it stay that way. Who knew how many more days you had, to feel the gentleness of his touch on the nape of your neck?

The shriek of a baby drags through the air, and James drops his hands while letting out a sigh. Harry was crying again. Sometimes you wondered if your baby could feel all of it, the tension and fear and sadness which permeated your home. Maybe that’s why he cried so much. God knows you’d be crying all day if you had the energy to.

“I’ll be back after I check on him,” he whispers, brushing his fingers across your shoulders before standing up and making his way out the room.

You lay back down, turning away from the door. You can hear James cooing, coaxing your son back to silence and sleep. He was always made to be a father, you’d told him that umpteen times before. You just wished he would have chosen someone else to have children with. You had little time left to live, even lesser to be a mother.

As promised, he comes back. You feel the bed dip as he lays behind you, arms coming to wrap around your waist and pull you back until you’re fit snug against his chest.

His breath is warm on the shell of your ear, loud. You let your eyes flutter shut as you listen to it, feel the calluses of his palm flat against your stomach. You can’t help but think this must be a nice way to die, in the arms of life.

“Are we going to be alright?”

The question slips out before you can stop it. It hangs in the air like a burden, like the weight of it was somehow holding it up.

The hot air next to your ear goes cold for a moment. “I don’t know,” James replies quietly. It’s an honest answer, but it’s not what you wanted.

What did you want? For him to lose hope, to admit defeat like you have? You could see the strength it was taking for him to hold on, to not slip into the depths of despair and hopelessness as you have. It was admirable, sometimes even enviable. But how thin was the line between hope and delusion? How long could he pretend that this wasn’t a losing battle, that you couldn’t drop dead any second?

But you wouldn’t berate a lover for hoping. So you turn towards James, his name slipping easily from your mouth as your lips meet. Soft kisses turn into rough touches, clothes abandoned and hands all over each other; bodies and souls entangled in messy desperation. It was an escape, a way to shut out the thoughts neither of you would admit to having. Maybe this was the last time you would ever have sex. So you made the best of what little strength you had, till the silk sheets were covered in white and James was covered in your love. You were covered in sadness, as you always were. And cancer. The cancer never stopped clinging to you.

That was one day your memory hung on to, maybe because of the sheer catharsis you experienced.

You wish you could’ve said the day of your death was another unforgettable one, but it really wasn’t. You had breakfast in bed, ran your fingers through James’ curls. You even had the willpower to spend some time with your son. Not enough for him to get attached, like you were so afraid of, but enough for him to know he had a mother once. The rest of the day was spent in bed, drifting between the lines of wakefulness and temporary unconsciousness. At one point, temporary became permanent.

James knew you were sorry for not being able to stay; you wished he knew how sorry you were about not wanting to. As the sky welcomed you with open arms, you could only hope that memories would be enough to immortalise you.

[egophiliac]

he did it! 🐍 and it only took...uhhh...well, there probably could've been less punches, but why hold back!

PUNCHES FOR EVERYONE

[kosmogrl]

[pmpknsoup]

dont...dont do this to me man

[joejhang]

my life is split into a before and after. before i read this exchange and after i read this exchange.

[regrettablemeasure]

I GOT TO SHOW ONE OF MY FAVORITE CHARACTER DESIGNS FINALLYYYYYYYY LETS GO

look at this stupid chicken

[arabellas]

back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known

[soliloquent-stark]

steve rogers' first and last time with the captain america shield

alternatively titled: endings, beginnings

avengers: endgame was released five years ago today.

marvel parallels 26/?

chris evans and anthony mackie in captain america: the first avenger (2011) and avengers: endgame (2019)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Get Souped!

[royaltea000]

Pose practice! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ

[st4rstudent]

Winn + Mac fusion idea. lalala.

[kosmogrl]

[quirinah]

ummmmmmm guys this dungeons looking a little dark here..........................ummmm..... hello??? guys??

[prettyymafia]

It's all good, baby.

[densewentz]

Made silly little lemon cakepops for my grandpa who LOVES lemon 🍋 (couldn't be bothered to mold them into more of a lemon shape but they were still fun)

The leaves are white chocolate and SO good