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✧Muses from Harry Potter, MCU, Titanic, and more.✧

Please read the below:

Rules ✦ Muses 

So guess who just got out of the hospital~? It sounds bad, but I’m just really happy to be out omg. I went in for a lung infection (not cov*d) and came out appendix-less. I wanted to put up a post when I first got admitted, but I didn’t have my computer.

It seemed as the two Gryffindor boys were on the same wavelength, just as they usually were. Their minds seemed to work in the same manner, whether that be with classwork or schemes like this one. Edward was just happy to find someone with the same desire and knack for risk-taking. 

Edward also cringed slightly as the rusty hinges let out a screech. As the large wooden door shut, Edward tried to slow its movement as much as he could to reduce the noise. Once that had been accomplished, Edward turned and followed James to one of the stalls. He nodded in agreement with the other boy’s selection, watching in amazement as James utilized muggle technology that he’d never even think of using himself. 

The young witch had gotten so carried away with watching his best friend’s masterful work that he didn’t check the map for a minute or so. When they both heard the footsteps getting closer, Edward’s eyes widened with horror before they shot to the map. It seemed as though Filch was getting closer to them than Edward had realized. If they were caught, it would definitely be a few detentions for each of them. 

Edward reacted quickly, holding his wand to the map and uttering the necessary words. “Mischief managed,” the witch spoke before tapping the map and causing everything important to disappear. He shut the door to the stall and locked it before climbing up onto the toilet. His hands reached for James to pull the other boy up onto it as well, just in case anyone came inside the bathroom.

One of the witch’s hands braced him against the wall, while the other was clutching James’ side. He didn’t realize how close the two were until their eyes locked. The other Gryffindor boy’s breath could be felt on his lips due to the lack of distance between them. 

Edward might have said something, had it not been for the large creaking noise of the wooden door behind forced open. All he could do now was look into those beautiful hazel eyes that were locked with his own. 

He was being hauled up to stand on top of the toilet before he knew it—James really had to give it to Eddy for moving so quickly—with one hand braced on the stone wall to his left and the other gripping his friend’s arm that was attached to his side for balance. He glanced down at the floor to make sure there would be no clear evidence of their presence before looking back up at Edward, only then realizing just how close they were.

It’s not like these stalls were really made for two people, especially when those two people happened to be two growing teenage boys, add in the fact they were both made to stand on the narrow rim of one toilet it was safe to say it was a tight squeeze.

Hazel eyes stared back into the other’s brown depths in a slight awe as he’d never really seen them this close—James could actually feel him breathing. He could feel a heat rising to his cheeks and he smiled, situation be damned. He looked off to the side for a moment, trying to resist saying anything, only to look forward once more and lock eyes,

“…Are we about to kiss right now?” He whispered and grinning as he did, clearly trying to keep his laughter from bubbling over. Was it nervous laughter or was he laughing at his poor attempt at the meme? They’d never know as the sound of foot steps inching closer quickly shut him up. 

How Filch was even still alive and working was honestly beyond James. The man had to be well into his nineties at this point and the fact that he was hobbling his way through the bathroom in an attempt to foil their plans was astonishing, truly. 

James could hear the man cursing to himself as he made his way in—his uneven footsteps echoing off of the stone walls. James had been content to stay on the toilet for as long as necessary, that was until another realization came to the forefront of his mind—he’d pressed play on the recorder. James wasn’t sure exactly how long he’d recorded the silences between the monster noises and he was also not keen on exactly how long they’d been standing there already. 

What a strange boy, with fragile sensibility; something about the wild way he stares, as if the world itself were BRAND NEW. Rather than the truth that hinged on it all being all a little too late for the boy who’s parents both had yet to even conceive him, perhaps the only reason that reality still hung well despite his presence here, disrupting their timeline. A familiar twinge, she wants a smoke, but the time, the place, this stranger, all pull at it in the wrong directions, his suggestion for a drink only causing her to laugh. “At least tell me you have money and this isn’t some shameless ploy to have a stranger pay for you.” bemusement soaking through her words, head turning to where she knows the closest snug establishment was - fewer eyes, fewer questions, the sort of places to disappear. “I know a place.”

Her name seems to bring some odd twinge to the way that he looks at her, as if he wasn’t quite sure where to place the name. “You might have heard of my father and mother. They’re both apart of the Ministry.” the turn of her tone is DRY AND WEATHERED, having seen similar reactions from others in the past. “They’re often quoted in The Daily Prophet, so if you’re reaching for where it might have been heard from, it’s likely some communique from the Ministry to the public to help keep the calm. So to speak.” Nothing works though, not anymore - these aren’t the times to really be lingering out and about if you’ve anything linking you back to less than full throated support for a certain man who liked to play his hand from behind the scenes.

                          And Marlene, well.

                                                              She’s managed to get far in her mission.

Now he seems to shake off his stunned air about him, and, Marlene for her part, seems to take it all in stride. “NOT OFTEN.” it’s neither a confirmation nor a denial, she only laughs. “But I take a better eye to civic duty then most when it comes to helping out those around me. Perhaps more people ought to find it less than strange.” The door opens, and shuts polite behind them, a hand in the air to greet the proprietor behind the bar - a regular, or so it seems, who only blinks at the new face and makes no further comment. In her slick career clothing, it’s easy to see where she’s out of place, though she wears it all well enough. “I used to come here a lot when I was a student. They’re a little more forgiving of my drinking habits now that I’ve graduated.” 

Rough crowd, and, rougher leanings, they’d all been wilder when they were kids, unburdened then, by the righteousness of war that they were made to carry before their time. One fought by those barely out of childhood themselves, though when they take to a seat, she’s the first to have a drink placed down in front of her despite not yet ordered, MORE FAMILIAR HERE than indicated. “I figure a drink might buy me a better story from a stranger. Colour me interested on an afternoon where I might otherwise be bored.” blue eyes, heavy lidded. “Tell me a good one.”

- @adprimus​

He was quick to nod and feign agreement over the mention of her parents, 

“Ah, right, yes.” He’d say, but stayed cautious not to mention anything further about her or her family. James knew if he kept trying to roll along with whatever was said by offering more explanations than necessary he would inevitably be caught in a lie. History was something that James tended to avoid in conversations, much less the entire class in school, so his knowledge of the 80s and the original up-rising of Voldemort (beyond his family’s involvement) was blurry at best. 

He followed her into the pub—a place that he was sure still existed in his time, but operated under a different name now—nonetheless it was a bit rougher than he recalled and much more crowded than he’d ever seen it. James couldn’t help but chuckle and smile at the idea of her sneaking drinks as a student, a comfortable similarity between the two of them.

“Very forgiving, I see.” He laughed with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head to the drink that had been placed on the table almost immediately once they were seated. James looked over the drink for a short moment before quietly ordering the same for himself. He met her gaze and propped his head up on his hand. There was a quick moment that he had forgotten just exactly where he was and his situation until the fragility of it all came flooding back. 

Remember the narrative, James. 

A small flash of remorse covered his features as he dropped her gaze to stare at the woodgrain of their table. However, he was quick to recover with a smirk,

“What kind of story exactly? Like, a ‘how we used to sneak joints and cigs into the astronomy tower at night’ or more of a ‘once upon a time my sister scared an entire circus tent into believing she’d been attacked’ kind of a story?” He offered, his tone light if not jovial as the second drink arrived at the table. 

“I’m actually more interested in how you conned these guys into letting you get away with underage drinking.” He said with a grin as he took a sip of his drink, wincing a bit at the unexpected strength. This girl was drinking these things regularly? He’d be a liar if he said he didn’t find that attractive.

ICON MAKER   -   james sirius potter (i tried to make that hair as shaggy and stupid as possible lmao)

tagged by: @kosmogramm (thanks, love!!)

Gwen took in a sharp breath as Mister Harrington led her through the halls of Midtown High. It wasn’t like she was NEW to being the new girl at school; but the people here were in a league of their own. She smiled softly, nodding and humming to show that she was LISTENING but in truth, the way her heart was drumming in her ears prevented her from paying much attention to what the man was saying. PLUS the fact that she had almost not survived the night before if not from the valiant efforts of the city’s resident superhero. Her dad wasn’t EXACTLY a fan; and part of the reason why she’d never told the newly minted New York City police chief of what happened downtown was just that and the fact that her very LIFE had been in danger.

Her blonde hair was perfect; the very opposite of the way the wind tangled and whipped at it just before Spider-Man had lifted her to safety. Her cheeks were JUST as flushed as they’d stopped by the door, a small wave of her hand as sea foam hues SCANNED the room, a bright smile on her lips with a nervous breath of a laugh to cut at the silence as she was introduced– momentarily spotting one of the kids turning away from her, her heart SINKING at the thought of being rejected and FRIENDLESS before Flash had approached.

“– excuse me? Did you REALLY just say Spider-Man?” she asked, trying to keep the impressed tone off her voice. She didn’t want to come off like some little SCHOOL GIRL with a crush, after all. She bit down her lower lip as she nodded, listening to how Spider-Man had nabbed his new car, confusion in her features at the explanation that they were BEST BUDDIES at least before he’d slinked away after making sure he’d reminded her to follow him on Instagram. She didn’t quite mind; but her head was IN THE CLOUDS still, nerves still coursing through her body to even mention how she’d used the platform for little modeling gigs here and there.

Gwen took in a breath, about to find herself a seat in the room when he’d approached– same kid who’d turned away from her just then. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath when he reached his hand over, and she moved her own to shake it, lingering a little as her mind TURNED– had she heard that voice before?

“Hi Peter,” she quipped after a bet, a few more movements of her hand on his as it lingered for a few more moments before pulling it back. “It’s um, NICE to meet you– you’re not– going to make me follow you on Instagram, too, are you?” she chuckled softly, shaking her head a little as a show of jest. He was CUTE; and polite, and familiar to a degree. “Sorry, I just, I mean, you just–” SOUNDED FAMILIAR? That was too stupid to say. “Your um, your shirt, it’s um, it’s really nice.”

NICE SAVE, Gwen.

“Uh, I mean—you can! I don’t really post a whole lot. Well, I mean—I post things, just nothing that great.” You’re starting to ramble, stop talking about Instagram, Peter. He mentally berated himself, laughing a bit awkwardly as he did.  

He paused as she looked like she was about to say something only to decide on something else, namely the shirt he was wearing. It surprised him, certainly not expecting the compliment, so much so that he had to look down at shirt—he had honestly forgotten what shirt he had put on this morning. 

“Oh, thanks! I—uh, I think I got it for Christmas last year. I like it though, it’s funny.” Peter replied with a smile and nod. Why are you telling her when you got it, that was forever ago?? The shirt in question was nothing really special, just another one of his many graphic science pun tees Aunt May always found. This one in particular was joke about a ferris wheel and the atomic symbol of iron. He wore it with an unbuttoned flannel and jeans, his usual uniform outside of his crime stopping one. 

“So, did you just move to New York?” He asked already knowing that there was a high chance she’d been living in the city for awhile. He had saved her as Spiderman in an area of Manhattan that wasn’t common to tourists, but there was still a chance she was new to the city. She seemed so sincere and nice—not to mention pretty, like, wow—Peter wouldn’t had been surprised if she had been from the west coast. Maybe it was the way her blonde hair was perfectly styled or the depth of blue her eyes that made him think that, he wasn’t sure. 

“It’s not super common for us to get new students in the middle of the year, so if you need help catching up in classes, I really don’t mind.” He offered, hoping that he wasn’t overstepping any kind of boundaries—or worst, coming off like he was just trying to hit on her.

“Not that you can’t do it on your ow—“ He stopped short as Mr. Harrington called out for them to get situated and ready to begin.

“Why thank you, James. I do pride myself on my brilliant ideas,” Edward smiled as he continued to look over the map. He noticed more than a few professors that were still out and about, along with Filch. It would take close monitoring of the map to ensure that they weren’t spotted outside of their dormitory at this late hour. Given the size of the castle, it should be fairly easy. 

His eyes followed along with the light emitting from the end of James’ wand. The plan seemed doable and they’d have plenty of time to complete it before slipping back into bed. No one would know any better once some of their traps were found the next day. “Lavatories, classrooms, and maybe even Professor Longbottom’s greenhouse…” Edward tried to list as they discussed their options. 

Not a moment after, they were heading out of the Gryffindor common room and beginning their late-night adventure. Edward kept his wand at the ready in the event that he needed to hide the map’s magical effects. His eyes switched between watching James walking in front of him and checking the map to ensure they wouldn’t be stumbled upon by anyone walking throughout the castle. “You know, you’re pretty lucky that you have this map. I don’t know where we’d be without it,” Edward commented while slipping into the secret passage. 

Edward held the map close to him as they made their way down the passage. He moved slowly but surly down it until they got to the end. Double-checking the map, Edward noted that no one was near before pressing one of the stone bricks to open the exit for the two young wizards. Once they slipped out from it, Edward did something similar for the exit to return to its natural state where no one would know any different. 

“This way,” the pureblood commanded as they began to make their way towards the larger bathroom area that was situated beside to The Great Hall. “Girls first?” Edward asked with a mischievous grin as he gestured to the large wooden door that the two boys had stopped beside. This wasn’t the first time that they’d gone inside. 

“We’d certainly be in more detentions, that’s for sure.” He agreed while following his friend into  the darkness of the secret passage way. James had grown up with stories of the map and had successfully snuck the map out of his father’s office over the holiday during his third year. However, it had taken him well over year to finally figure out how it worked—something he owed to his Uncle Ron for slipping up on over one dinner. 

Not that James really minded detentions. Depending on whom they were set with it usually wasn’t the worse thing to go through, especially if he wasn’t the only one in detention—and given his and Edward’s current idea of entertainment—he was rarely in there alone. 

Slipping out of the hidden passage and into the familiar, larger, main hallway James gave a nod of approval at his friend’s quick actions to cover their tracks and followed him towards the lavatories,

“I supposed we wouldn’t be proper gentlemen if the ladies weren’t first.” He laughed and pushed the large wooden door open as silently as one could manage. The rusty hinges still let out a creaking whine in protest none the less. The teen cringed some at the sound, pausing for a moment just in case. Hearing no sounds of incoming footsteps he pushed further into the bathroom. 

“Do you think the end stall or a middle one?” He asked as he walked down the row of stalls, “The one on the end, yeah?” He said with a short nod of certainty. James figured the stall that was cornered with two stone walls would probably allow for more sound to bounce around the whole room. Or at least that sounded right in his head.

James moved into the last stall, pulling his backpack from his shoulders and quick work of setting up  tape recorder behind the toilet—ripping at duct tape with his teeth and securely taping it in place. With the cassette tape already inside and volume set to ‘max’ he pressed the ‘play’ button down. Satisfied with the sound of white noise that emitted from the speakers the Gryffindor began to exit the stall when the faint sound of foot steps caught his attention. 

His eyes instantly shot up to Edward’s, wide and seeking. Were they about to have to hide in the girl’s lavatory? So soon into their conquest?

“Do you hear that?” He whispered and paused to listen to the sound come closer. 

“Did you drop a TAB OF ACID or something?” curious stare, he’s looking thrown, for all that he’s got, Marlene left to play spectator of his gaping face, those green eyes that grow wide, wider. The look on his face where he seems so terribly out of place (as do his clothes, but for that, she says nothing), watching him root through his own pockets as if terrified and… “You doing alright? Like. Have you a need for a drink or something?” perhaps it’s poor form to be assisting someone like this out in the open; after all, even Marlene has her own cover to help maintain, and this, well, she can’t imagine anybody of good company would find it all that becoming of a young lady to be so forward with someone like this but..

Neither could she imagine that this was some well plotted trap meant to capture the soft-hearted. While there was a time and place for such things, she couldn’t imagine the Death Eaters to be ever so clever - when their whole angle seemed to be to move forwards with a big stick at hand. Walk softly in the dark, and capture those UNAWARES. “There’s a place out by the side. I’ve never really been to Leeds. You can tell me all about it in exchange for a proper drink, what do you say?” James Porter… she isn’t aware of any family going by that name, which only means that the boy has to be a half-blood, or muggle-born.  And oh, how the stakes continue to rise…

“My name’s Marlene. Marlene McKinnon. I was just coming back from work myself, and was fancying a bit of supper so, the timing’s perfect.” and she’s terribly curious about the boy who seems to have fallen out of the sky; curious thing, that. Looking out of place for more than just Leeds might suggest, but those are things to unpeel as they expose themselves, pressing a cigarette to her lips, delicately, before her hand extends to take his own, shaking firmly, with an arrogance to it that she’s learnt to carry. The enemy might have a mighty stick, but they could be more clever. “Shall we?”

- @adprimus​

He had to laugh at the idea of taking acid, because at this point he wished he had done that instead of what he’d really done. Oh, if only this could be some kind of hallucinogenic induced dream instead of what it actually was; his reality. 

“Oh, I’m good. Just, uh—Yeah, something to drink would be great.” He replied as casually as he could manage. James knew how that sounded, like he had a problem most likely, but even that was better than telling her outright what his real problem was. He was a bit surprised at her forwardness, however it wasn’t the easiest thing to focus on when he had to suddenly come up with facade of a backstory to possibly ensure his existence.

He nodded in understanding as she told him of a place not too far away before having to do a mental double take at her offer to join him. This was odd, wasn’t it? James wasn’t the most familiar with societal etiquette of the 80s, however he was sure asking someone you’d thought to be on drugs to join you for a drink to be out of the norm. His face read with his surprise, his eyes ever so slightly narrowing at the offer. She was on to him, although James wasn’t sure about what exactly yet. Surely assuming that he had just time traveled wasn’t the first suspicion, right? Merlin, was he that obvious?

“Well, um, sure—why not!”James said with a short smile assuming that declining the offer would be more trouble than just going along with it. Okay, remember who you are—well remember who fake-you is—Leeds, Porter, let’s go with Muggleborn since that’d be easiest, went to Hogwarts between…some year and another—math was difficult given his current predicament. 

Wait, did she say McKinnon?

James shook her hand politely, eyes locked on her blue ones, barely even registering the firmness of her handshake. There was a brief flash of an old memory of him and his brother leaning on the table in his grandmother’s kitchen as she pointed out people in old photographs. One in particular picture had always stuck with him because it had his father’s parents as well as his other name sake in it—a picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. She had gone down the line as the two boys had looked on—And Marlene McKinnon, she was such bright one. They took her whole family, the poor thing.

Oh no.

James could feel the dread filling his stomach like a pile of bricks, partly because he was interacting with someone so close to everything that was so delicate, but mostly because he knew  what her fate was to become.

“Of course.” He blinked and reminded himself of his situation and how it had to play out. No mistakes could be made or he was risking the future of possibly everyone. James moved to be in step with her, taking in a breath as he did,