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moonstruckme · 9 months

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James Potter x Reader where reader is in a different house (Hufflepuff if you don’t mind) and she ends up on the receiving end of one of their pranks which makes her angry so she avoids James and the other marauders, forcing him to grovel/beg for forgiveness? Thank you so much xoxo

Hi, thanks for your request! This got a bit long haha, but I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading :)

cw: mentions of blood

James Potter x Hufflepuff!reader ♡ 1.8k words

Though no one tells him it’s happening, Remus sees the prank coming from a mile away.

Primarily, this is because James and Sirius appear to be playing an entirely ordinary game of frisbee. Just tossing it back and forth, no hexes or nifflers or anything. A simple pastime between two boys on a lovely warm afternoon.

Secondly, they haven’t asked Remus to join them. While they know from experience he’s content to read his book in the grass, they always make a point to ask just to be sure Remus doesn’t feel excluded. The fact that they haven’t suggests that they’re well aware that whatever they’re up to, Remus will want no part in it.

Lastly and most importantly, James Potter has the worst poker face Remus has ever known.

When the curly-haired boy slyly drops the frisbee they’ve been using into his bag, trading it for another, he can hardly keep the giddiness from his face. Which is probably why, when he tosses it well away from his companion and towards a crowd of gathered students, Sirius is the one who has to say, with theatrical volume and distress, “Merlin, can somebody grab that?”

Remus watches warily as several students turn to track the progress of the disk as it sails overhead, and after a moment one breaks away, chasing after it. Remus feels a pang of sympathy for you, your yellow and black scarf flying behind you as you run, needing no further evidence than the eager look in James’ eyes to know that you’ve fallen for a trap.

You jump up to grab it out of the air, beaming in triumph for a moment before a yelp escapes you. You flings your catch to the ground, cradling your hand as the fanged frisbee twitches and snarls at your feet.

“Shit,” he hears Sirius breathe, and the excitement is gone from his and James’ expressions as they jog over to you, Remus standing to follow them.

You pick your head up as they approach, eyes wet but fierce.

“What the hell?” you snarl, and Remus realizes with a stab of concern that there’s a small puddle of blood forming in your palm. “You’ve begun targeting your stupid pranks at anyone who’s dumb enough to help you now? How’s that funny?”

Remus looks at his friends in bewilderment, aggrieved on your behalf but unable to believe they’d do something so cruel. The fanged frisbee—a cheap trick, which really should be banned in Remus’ opinion—twitches closer to your ankle, and Sirius flicks his wand at it, its teeth retracting as it goes silent and motionless.

“We…I charmed it so its teeth would be dull and harmless.” James scrubs a hand through his hair, at a loss. “It was only supposed to scare you, not hurt you.”

You shake your head at him disbelievingly and bite your lip, face reddening as the pain sets in. James steps closer to you, blocking you from view of the small crowd of gawking students, none of whom, Remus notes with some bitterness, have come to help you or see if you’re okay.

“I’m really sorry,” James says softly. “Let me help.” But when he reaches for your hand, you step back, holding it close to your chest.

“Just leave me out of your fun in the future, yeah?” you hiss, stalking inside.

James looks pained as he watches you go, and though Remus doesn’t begrudge you your justified anger, he feels for his good-natured friend. It had been an honest mistake, though the cost turned out to be far higher than either of his friends had expected. But knowing James, he’ll find some way to make it right.

“Sorry, mate. They can’t all be winners.” Sirius claps him on the back, and Remus knows his light tone is more to make James feel better than it is true carelessness. Sirius is loyal that way; he’d probably lock you in a broom closet rather than have you upset James again.

“It wasn’t meant to hurt anyone,” James says quietly.

Sirius’ smile is unfaltering, though Remus spies the worry in his eyes. “She’ll get over it. C’mon, there’s still time to go into Hogsmeade if we hurry.”

And though Remus hopes you’ll feel better soon, he knows it will take James a long time to get over it himself.

James shuffles from foot to foot, feeling silly and anxious as he waits for someone to leave the Hufflepuff dorms so he can go inside. He’s fairly sure you’re supposed to have potions together, but you hadn’t shown up to class, and though James had kept an eye out all day in the hallways, he’d never spotted you. He’d thought he’d caught a glimpse of you in the great hall during lunch, but you’d darted out of sight before he could be sure, and then there’d been no sign of you at dinner. Luckily, it had only taken a quick consultation of the map he shared with his friends to find out that you’d holed up in the Hufflepuff common room, so here he was, draped in his invisibility cloak and fidgeting like a nervous date at your front door.

The door creaks open, and James slips in before it can shut, the exiting Hufflepuff shivering slightly at the breeze he makes whisking by them. It’s not difficult to spot you where you’re sitting painting your nails, lips pursed just slightly in concentration. The common room is mostly empty as other students enjoy the nice weather outside, and James is grateful for the privacy as he takes off the cloak and goes to sit beside your feet where they’re stretched out on the couch.

You look up at the intrusion and startle to find James, pulling your feet closer to you reflexively. He hopes it’s an instinct to make room for him and not to protect yourself from him, though given recent events he could hardly blame you for the latter.

“What’re you—how did you get in here?” you ask, eyes darting between James and the door in bafflement.

Never mind that. “You weren’t at dinner,” James says, holding out his small stolen dish of chicken curry, “so I thought you might be hungry. Sorry, it’s barely warm now.”

You take it from him suspiciously, careful of your wet nails, and James feels a stab of guilt at the sight of your bandaged hand.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he goes on, throat burning with shame. “I know I’ve already said it, but it was supposed to be harmless. I wasn’t careful enough.”

You don’t look at him, not rejecting his apology but not quite accepting it either. “Pomphrey fixed it good as new anyways, so we can just say it never happened.”

James appreciates the attempt to ease his conscience, but your kindness only makes him feel that much more villainous. This would be so simple if you were one of those pureblood gits, or even just a bit ruder, but you’re you, and that’s so much worse.

“Can I see it?” he asks softly, and you hesitate only a moment before scooting a bit closer and extending your hand to him, palm up.

James unwraps the bandage with care, keeping one eye on your face to ensure he’s not hurting you, and so he notices the faint blush that colors your cheeks as he cradles your hand in his. The last layer of your dressing falls away, revealing three tiny white scars. Though they’re healed over, he hisses in sympathy, drawing your hand further towards him protectively but forgetting you’re attached to it.

Your inhale is soft as you lean forward awkwardly, and James huffs a laugh at his enduring idiocy. “Sorry, love,” he says, letting you lean back. He doesn’t let go of your hand, though. “Were they deep?”

You give a one-shouldered shrug, as though it’s nothing to you. James worries you’re putting on a performance of exaggerated blasé for his benefit. “They bled a lot, but a charm sealed them up quickly enough.”

James nods, remembering with sickening clarity the blood that had pooled in your palm and dripped from between your fingers.

“I’m glad,” James says, and it doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing feels like enough. But he can’t stop himself, even if it’s all inadequate. “I’m really sorry.”

You sigh, and James knows enough about you to guess that being upset is exhausting you. It isn’t in your nature; you’re someone who always has a kind word for everyone, who he’s seen lend your quill to a student that forgot theirs and offer them an understanding smile when they broke it, who would rather spend all day avoiding James than let him feel the wrath of your grudge.

Your very warranted grudge, by the way.

It’s terrible luck that someone as sweet as you was on the receiving end of his mistake. But, as you’d pointed out, that was how the prank was designed, wasn’t it? Though James and Sirius hadn’t thought that part through at the time, the victim was always going to be whoever stepped forward to help. Normally it might not matter, but they’d gotten so caught up in the excitement of trying out their new toy that James had somehow gotten the spell wrong. And as a result, you’d been forced to pay a price for your kindness and his incompetence.

“It’s okay,” you say.

“It’s not,” James insists. “And I can’t fix it, but let me do something else. I can do your potions’ homework for the rest of the year, I can give you my dessert every night, I can…I can sneak into Hogsmeade and bring you whatever you want, anytime you ask, I can…what?”

You’re smiling at him, and it’s familiarly lovely but, James can’t help but think, entirely undeserved.

“I don’t need any favors from you, James,” you say, and he realizes it’s the first time you’ve said his name. It’s not a long name, but somehow your voice gives it a cadence he quite likes. “Just be more careful, okay? I ended up fine, but next time someone might not.”

“There won’t be a next time,” he promises swiftly, and means it. “But sweetheart—” if he notices how you soften at the endearment, he doesn’t mention it “—you’ve gotta let me make it up to you somehow.”

You sigh again, though it’s lighter this time, seemingly both exasperated and amused by his persistence. After a moment spent within your own head, you ask, “Could you help me study for the potions exam next week?”

“Yes!” James grins eagerly. “Of course. That’s a start. How’s tomorrow after class? I’ll bring study snacks as well, and we can make it a regular thing, if you like.”

He’d like to make it a regular thing, debt or not.

You smile. “Tomorrow is perfect. And can I call in another favor right now?”

If James weren’t sitting, he’d buckle at the knees in relief. “Yes. I’m at your service.”

“Can you tell me how you got into the Hufflepuff common room?”

“That,” he says smoothly, “is just one in my arsenal of skills now at your disposal.”

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eff-plays · 7 months

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#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #shadowheart #bg3 tav #bg3 fanart #what's ur favorite part of this masterpiece ... me? i like the completely 3D copypaste job of the artifact #listen i couldn't be bothered #too many angles #oc: hiraeth #anyway yeah i'm doing a meme thing of hira meeting/recruiting all of the guys cuz i thought it'd be funny #shtarting with shart #ALSO THIS ISN'T FANART OF THEM KILLING HER #i just always found it funny how she just lays there on her back perfectly straight and weird #this felt more right ya know?#so they find her like this and just sorta take in the sight

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kingprinceleo · 2 months

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just kinda a thing i wanted to say since ik i have younger artists following me (its applicable to everyone really, but very important to form care habits as early as possible) i read about others artists experiencing pain from overworking and i always thought to myself, i wouldnt let that happen to me, im real young, i still have time before i have to worry about really damaging my body

but your body really doesnt care, if you push yourself, if you ignore the pain, its going to fuck you up. maybe for the rest of your life please god take care of yourself when you draw, write, game, literally anything. stretch your wrists, fingers, dont keep your elbow in a locked a position for too long, especially dont lean on your elbows. get up around every 45 minutes, drink water, eat food, use the bathroom, stretch your whole body and your hands again. walk outside and let your eyes readjust your body is trying to communicate with you for a reason when you start hurting, please listen to it, be kind to yourself, you deserve it

#source firsthand as im the idiot who drew for like 6 hours straight #like actually non fucking stop for even a second #until the pain got so bad my hand felt like it was fucking scalding #and i kept going anyway until i physically could not put any more lines down on the page #almost everyday since then my arm and hand has ached and felt weird and i literally cant do anything i used to before i did this to myself #i cant play games i cant write #i cant even use my mouse with my right hand for casual scrolling #please take care of yourselves

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nelkcats · 11 months

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Application Rejected

When Danny adopted Cujo he saw him as a puppy, which was a little sad considering the implications. He always thought Cujo was the only one who had stayed, the only one whose soul had persisted. He thought Cujo was alone.

He was wrong. Not all adult dogs and puppies stayed, of course. But many had. Cujo was simply the only one who decided to return to the world of the living, probably because of his obsession with his toy.

One day Cujo showed him where they were all hiding; Danny knew that those dogs had not stayed for the same reason as Cujo, they probably had a myriad of different reasons, and that was fine.

The problem was that excluding some of the adult dogs (that obviously were fine on their own and didn't care), there were many puppies similar to Cujo running around in need of affection and he couldn't adopt them all (besides, Cujo would definitely get jealous). And while many ghosts agreed to take a couple, it wasn't all of them, so Danny did something extreme.

He held an adoption fair in Amity, which was a smashing success. He just forgot that a lot of people in Amity...were usually traveling, and the ghost puppies would follow.

Then, a few days later when a scowling guy showed up (he obviously wasn't part of the general Amity Park population) and demanded a "bright green" puppy, Danny said no and refused his application. He couldn't trust someone with no knowledge with a ghost dog. Although he did offer him a course to learn about their care.

Damian Wayne was offended with his overall assessment. He was obviously the right person to care for one of those pups. So he set out to prove that to the boy in front of him, without hesitation.

#dpxdc #Damian wants to adopt a ghost dog #he doesn't know the dog is a ghost tho #he just heard about an adoption fair with weird puppies and traveled there #Bruce was confused about his sudden departure #dp x dc #dc x dp #Danny rejected Damian adoption application of course #He only accepts people who have the skills and knowledge to take care of a ghost dog #The guy in front of him obviously doesn't know anything about ectoplasm or ghosts #But he felt bad for him and decided to offer a course #Cujo wasn't alone #he was just the only one that wanted to return to the land of the living #Danny could leave the dogs there since they were surviving on their own but #It doesn't felt right #There are ghost dogs around Amity now #some of the adult dogs were adopted too #Amity is in peace with the Infinite Realms #If it wasn't about animals Damian would probably have told Bruce about ghost dogs and ghosts in general #But he got distracted with his new objectives #Maybe #dead serious

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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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Eddie’s doing some dumb trick with a couple of wooden spoons, clever hands making them move through the air in improbable ways, and Steve’s about to bite his whisk in half.

He’d thought for sure that Eddie would be going home the first week; Edward Munson, 29, bartender/musician from Brighton with mismatched tattoos and wild hair, seemed like exactly the kind of pretentious asshole who would flame out early with some ill-advised hipster experimentation. If Steve (28, social worker from Indiana, USA) had been a complete asshole, he’d have said that Eddie didn’t have the fundamentals. That he was all sizzle, no steak.

It’s a good thing Steve’s not a complete asshole, because Eddie’s been blowing the technicals out of the water so consistently it’s actually pretty fucking embarrassing. His signatures and showstoppers are making a very respectable showing too, except for the time he tried to incorporate some fresh pandan extract and fucked up the liquid ratio, leaving him with a dripping mess that Mary’d declined to even try.

Afterwards, Steve had seen him leaning against a tree and struggling to light a cigarette. Steve went over for no particular reason, flicking on his lighter and holding it out like a peace offering. Eddie looked at him warily, but bent over the offered flame.

“Can’t believe I made it through this one,” Eddie said after a moment, white smoke curling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I feel like that every week.” Steve leaned against the tree next to Eddie. It was a big tree, the kind that’s probably been growing in this field since before England was even England.

“Nah, but—c’mon, you know what I mean.”

“You had some bad luck with your showstopper. Happens to the best of us, man. Your signature hand pies looked sick as hell.” Steve’s own hand pies had turned out pretty well, so he was feeling generous. It had only been the third week; plenty of time for Steve to snag Star Baker, though even by that point, Steve had been getting the creeping feeling that he was being a little too American about the whole thing. Everyone else seemed to think competitiveness was some kind of deadly sin. It was—actually kind of nice, to get the same kind of nerves he’d always gotten before high school basketball games, but know that he wasn’t really fighting against anyone except himself in the tent.

Anyway, the very next week, Eddie had done some kind of kickass gothic castle with a shiny chocolate dragon and gotten Star Baker for the second time. Steve had clapped him on the back, appropriately manly. Eddie had pulled Steve into a real hug, arms tight around Steve’s shoulders and his whole lean body pressed up close and warm. It had only lasted a moment, and then Eddie had bounded over to Mel and Sue, both of whom he’s been thoroughly charming since the get-go.

Steve thinks that when this season—or, uh, series—airs, no matter where Eddie places, the entire country is going to be just as charmed. Eddie’s going to get whatever kind of cookbook deal or streaming show he wants. Sponsors will take one look at that handsome face and charismatic grin, and a whole world of possibilities is going to open up for Eddie.

Steve’s not in it for any of that, of course. He’s here kind of by accident, because Robin pushed him to apply, and it’s a goddamn miracle he’s been holding his own. Hell, it’s a miracle he’s in this country at all. When Robin had started looking at the Cambridge MPhil program in linguistics, she’d said wouldn’t it be great if and he’d snorted, yeah right, like I could ever get whatever job I’d need to move to another freaking country, but then—well. Things had happened the way they’d happened, and now Robin’s almost finished with her degree and Steve is taking time off from the London charity he works at in order to be on Bake Off.

He’s told all this to the cameras, plus the stuff about how baking started as a way for him to connect with the kids he used to babysit in Indiana, blah blah blah. He thinks it’s probably too boring for them to air, but he gets that they have to try to get a story anyway.

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, is probably going to be featured in all the series promos. Steve is rabidly curious about what Eddie’s story is, but he hasn’t worked up the nerve to just ask. It should be the easiest thing in the world. They’ve got kind of a camaraderie going, the two of them; a bit of a bromance, as Mel’s put it more than once.

It’s true they get along pretty well, and the cameras have been picking up on it: on the way Eddie’ll wander over to Steve’s bench like a stray cat whenever they get some downtime, how they wind up horsing around sometimes, working off leftover adrenaline from the frantic rush of caramelization or whatever. There’s the time Eddie had hopped up on a stool to deliver some kind of speech from Macbeth, of all things, and overbalanced right onto Steve, who had barely managed to keep them both from careening into a stand mixer. Sue had patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Well, boys, that’ll be going in the episode for sure.”

They both get along with the other contestants just fine, of course, but they’re two guys of about the same age with no wife and kids waiting at home. It’s only natural that they’re gravitating together, becoming something like friends, Steve figures. It’s pretty great that he’s getting at least one real friend out of this whole thing.

It would be even greater if Steve could stop thinking about Eddie’s hands in decidedly non-friendly ways. With all the paperwork he’s signed, he can’t even complain to Robin about how Eddie looks with his sleeves pushed up to show off the tattoos on his forearms, kneading dough and grunting a little under his breath with effort. Steve had almost forgotten to pre-heat his oven that day.

Two benches away, Eddie fumbles the spoons he’s been juggling with a clatter, and he bursts out laughing, glancing over at Steve like Steve’s in on the joke. Steve grins back, heart twanging painfully in his chest, and thinks: well, fuck. Guess this is happening.

#this is a TRULY bonkers AU like wtf even is the venn diagram of steddie fans and people who exclusively like the BBC GBBO #I know nothing about the process of creating reality tv so I most likely will not be continuing this #(plus ST is just so intrinsically American to me)#but I saw the GBBO musical last week and that's what prompted this little abomination #steddie #GBBO AU #ETA: ftr I rated the GBBO musical 2.5/5. I have a colour-coded spreadsheet.#decent songwriting & solid performances but the emotional beats/pacing were all over the place and it did some weird revisionist callbacks #plus the level of assumed thirst for not!Paul Hollywood was wildly off-putting to me #a person who finds neither his personality nor his appearance in any way attractive #anyway I paid £15 for my ticket and that felt right to me. I will see literally any show for £15.

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ganondoodle · 6 months

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so im not sure if anyones interested, but, i went through quite a bunch of totk critiques by people who were also very disappointed with it and thought id share my favorite videos i found (granted, i only really wachted those that youtube recommened and its mostly .. white men... things like the orientalism problem are not mentioned at all for example, maybe ill update this post if i find any more diverse voices)

i dont agree with every single point and also dont know most of the channels (aside from the big zelda theory guys) so i judged solely by what they mentioned in those videos and the quality of it (like the audio .. bc i cant listen to bad audio)

in no particular order, also they talk about or use footage of the literal ending stuff so if you arent done with the game yet, better leave these for now

youtube

(the following one is a podcast thing by multiple zelda theory guys, there some stuff you can skip at the start thats just kidna random things, but the video is marked with chapters)

youtube

(theres some mention of some things not making sense, like the sonau only being two, and ithink thats kinda bc the english translation was weirdly vague about that, in the german version its much more directly said that they all died out and only rauru and mineru were left of them;

also mentions of how unfitting it is to call the enigma stones "secret"stones in english might come from a similar thing; in german they where called "Mysterienstein" which would be translated as mystic/mysterious/enigma- stone

just wanted to mention that since the vast majority are gonna play it in english only and the stuff online is also dominated by english)