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happy pride you beautiful people 🏳️‍🌈🩷

Omg look who at pride

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Im back with more ive been dying at work but here I am

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random stuff i did bc i think im hilarious

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pov: reg never told james abt being sirius' brother/ remus never told sirius abt being friends w reg (!!!)

“James, just.” Regulus just shakes his head, a slight frown on his lips. He shakes his head again, “I should’ve told you but, would you still have wanted this?” The words burst out of his mouth as if he’s trying to stifle them.

“I care about you because you’re you, Regulus.” James murmurs and he watches as Regulus scans his face with his eyes but James doesn’t know what he’s searching for. 

“I guess that doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” Regulus mumbles, chuckling bitterly as he looks around the room, not meeting James’ eye.

“It can,” James whispers, pleading almost- because as much as he’s hurt that he’s been lied to, he doesn’t think he’s ready to give up the boy in front of him.

“No. It can’t, James. I don’t want it to.” Regulus says, a note of finality in his tone. “This was a mistake. We both agreed on that.”

James feels his stomach flip, nausea and hurt expelling across his body and settling into his bones. He feels like a fucking idiot.

Shaking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets, “Right. I’ll see you later, Regulus.” James sighs before turning to leave.

“Bye, James.” He hears the boy behind him whisper. 

James turns to look at him again before the door shuts behind him and sees Regulus standing in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around his middle and his head down, staring at the floor. The door shuts and James lets out a deep breath before turning towards the sound of yelling. 

Did he just get... broken up by someone he wasn’t even in a relationship with? That’s a new low, even for him, he thinks.

He finds the bedroom Sirius has locked himself in, stuck in a daze, he barely remembers walking there, his mind still reeling from this whole ordeal- He thinks he passed Marlene and she pointed down the hall.

“Pads, it’s me.” James knocks softly. He hears some shuffling before the door opens a crack. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to just hide.” Sirius mumbles as he lets James inside and locks the door behind him. “I’m just so… So… God, why didn’t he just tell me, James?” He bursts out once they’re inside.

“He was probably afraid of the reaction you would have,” James suggests gently, forcing himself to focus on his best friend and not the fact that he’s been- Fuck. How the fuck is supposed to tell Sirius?

“Rightfully so, I guess. Just proved him right.” Sirius sighs, flopping down on the edge of the bed. James sits down beside him and they both let out a sigh before glancing over at each other, “What’s wrong Prongs?” Sirius asks quietly and James just shakes his head,

“Let’s figure out your thing first; don’t need additional stress,” James tells him, and Sirius gives him a flat look, 

“Humour me.” 

“Sirius, this is like. Like bad. I’ve done something bad.” James whispers, suddenly feeling even more sick than he already does.

“As bad as Remus? Were you secretly friends with my brother this whole time too?” Sirius asks sarcastically, arching an eyebrow with a slight smile on his face.

James freezes. He doesn’t know what to say and Sirius must be able to read it on his face because his smile drops instantly.

“James.” Sirius starts, standing up and facing him, “You’re going to have to explain what bad thing you’ve done before my mind starts making it ten times worse.” He warns quickly.

“Sirius, I-“ James tries but he doesn’t even think he can explain this, can he? He’s been sleeping with his best-friends little brother- No, scratch that, he’s not even just sleeping with him, he cares about his brother, he likes him, wants to be his boyfriend for fuck’s sake.

“James!” Sirius exclaims, his face going pale. He paces back and forth in front of James as he starts ranting, “So you what? You also know my brother? How? I mean, how on earth could you possibly-“ He freezes, his head turning slowly to look at James, his eyes narrowed. “Reggie.” He breathes out and James just ducks his head. “You’ve been fucking him?” Sirius practically shouts, his eyes widening comically. 

“Sirius, I didn’t know,” James tells him, bracing his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t know until I just saw him.” 

“What the fuck do you mean, you didn’t know!” Sirius demands his hands reaching out to grab at his hair. “I mean good fucking god, Prongs, my brother?” He starts pacing again and James just sits and watches him. “How the fuck am I supposed to even respond to that.” He splutters and James pinches the bridge of his nose,

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He admits and Sirius freezes again.

“But Regulus knew, didn’t he? That stupid fucking- I’m going to hurt him. I’m going to hurt him and I’m going to fucking enjoy it.” Sirius says darkly and James stands, catching his arm.

“Padfoot, wait.” 

“What? You’re protecting him now?” Sirius snaps, “You know what, James? Just fuck off for a minute, alright?” He glares, ripping his arm away from James and storming out of the room. 

James lets out a weary sigh and sits back down on the bed, and puts his head in his hands, what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

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Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better

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barty, stealing the marauder's map and figuring out how to open it- because of course he would, he's a genius- and seeing james and regulus suspiciously close together in the astronomy tower, dorcas and marlene in the gryffindor girls dorms incredibly close together, and pandora and lily also very close together in the ravenclaw dorms- not to mention, remus and sirius in a broom closet on top of each other, and peter and gilderoy in the gryffindor dorms also suspiciously close together-

barty, lying in bed half on-top of evan, fully naked: wow, did you know that all of our friends and all of our friend's friends are gay??

evan, who has been running his fingers through barty's hair for the better half of an hour: shocking

barty: i know! and they're all being little freaks right now!

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barty: james, c’mon. i know that deep down you have to have at least a bit of common sense in that thick skull of yours, don’t you???

james: i really… what??

evan: we said we wouldn’t meddle but honestly, james! how daft are you??

james: this feels like an attack???

barty: wow, so glad you figured that out!

evan: you need- james. you just ignored him when he was flirting with you??

james: ignored..? who? who did i ignore?? what is happening??

barty: regulus, you fucking moron! god, i don’t know what he sees in you

james: regulus?? he called me a dickhead and said that he hopes something terrible happens to me???

evan: exactly!?!?!

james: he was flirting??????

barty: did you like it?

james: well i- well. that’s not. okay so, okay well. well, i didn’t realize that was flirting???

evan: are you gonna do something about it??

james: yes. i- yes. oh my god, he was flirting with me!! oh my god. ohmygodohmygod- i have to go!

*evan and barty watch james run off*

barty: how mad is reg gonna be that we sent that idiot after him..?

evan: he’ll get over it. and let’s be real, that probably was him flirting.

barty: too right. well, onto sirius and remus next? can’t keep watching those two go around and around for much longer…

evan: right you are, b. right you are.

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barty babysitting pt. 5 i think

harry: batty, where do babies come from?

barty: what

harry: babies? they come from where?

barty: right. okay, yeah, i heard that correctly. umm

harry: so?

barty: right, well, harry.. they come from uh, they come from. so you see, well they-

evan, from across the room: they come from love, harry. when two people love each other, they might have a baby

harry: so batty and rosie are going to have a baby?

barty: well. fuck, i mean well. it’s always a possibility but, we’ve got you harry! you trying to get rid of us?

harry: no. but you can have a baby when i’m not here so you don’t miss me

barty: you’re a cute kid, haz, i think we would miss you either way, even with a baby

harry *sighing and visibly annoyed*: okayyyy

evan: do you want us to have a baby, harry?

harry: yes, please

barty *looking over at evan*: well… how can we say no to that face

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i know no peace with this fandom swear to god

why can't gay people flirt normally

like "ur cute," "no ur cute," isn't that hard

it doesn't have to be:

"finally the flesh reflects the madness within,"

"well, you'd know all about the madness within wouldn't you remus?"

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“We’re in a fanfic drought” Tell the writers you like their work.

“All Tumblr ever does is write oneshots now” Tell the writers that you’d love to see them write longer things.

“Nobody updates their fics anymore” Tell the writers you love the fic and want to see more of it.

Tell the writers.

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"If you use em dash in your works, it makes them look AI generated. No real human uses em dash."

Imaging thinking actual human writers are Not Real because they use... professional writing in their works.

Imagine thinking millions of people who have been using em dash way before AI becomes a thing are all robots.

REBLOG IF YOU'RE A HUMAN AND YOU USE EM DASH

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THIS IS NOT A DRILL MY EX GF ASKED TO GET DRINKS SOMETIME SHE WANTS ME SO BAD GUYS (im so deeply delusional and in love that im sick to my core that this will be the last time ill ever see her and she lives 10 minutes from me someone pray that i remain of this earth)

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"I didn't comment on a fic I liked because I don't think the author would care or remember my comment anyway". fanfic writer here, I still remember comments I got on my fics from seven years ago. I still think about them and they still make me smile. your kind comments are what motivates us and what helps us keep writing.

I personally know writers who take screenshot and print out comments they got from their readers.

TL;DR comments matter to us writers more than you think. if you like a fanfic, never be shy to let the author know ♡

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in my feels, sad fic to come <3

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I’m going to crash out this week!!!! Tumblr won’t load on my phone and I literally don’t know why the app hates my guts. I now have to be an iPad kid bc the website version was irritating me with the navigation. But alas I shall keep writing for all my fictional loves and all will be right in the world <3

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Slow Mornings~ C. Telford

Chibs Telford x fem!reader

Summary: Chibs wakes up in your bed, allowing for soft moments and vulnerability.

CW: Mentions of pain and injury, mild language, brief description of injury, tbh maybe some spelling mistakes lol, let me know if I left anything out!

A/N: Here's part 2 of Bleedin' Heart!! Maybe I'll make this into a series, but who knows? I'm so happy you've all liked it thus far. I love this mannnnnnnnn! Anywho, requests are open, hope you enjoy blah blah blah MWAH 🥰

You wake before him.

It's still early— barely enough light creeping through the blinds to paint the edges of the room in silver. The rains stopped, but the world outside is still wet and quiet, like it knows not to disturb what's inside.

Chibs is asleep beside you, one arm slung across your waist, breathing slow and steady. The scar on his cheek catches the light, and for once, he doesn't look like a man carrying hell behind his eyes.

You watch him for a moment. Just... let yourself look. He never lets his guard down like this. And even now, there's a furrow in his brow, like his body doesn't know how to fully rest— even when it's safe.

Eventually, he shifts. Breath catches. A faint groan slips out as he stretches.

"Mm. Fuck me," he mutters, voice rough with sleep. "Feel like I got hit by a fuckin' truck."

You smirk. "You kinda did."

His eyes finally crack open, bleary and bloodshot, but they find you immediately. And then he does that thing— softens catching in the corners, just for you.

"Morning, mo gràidh," he rasps, voice like gravel soaked in whiskey. "You still here, then? Thought maybe I dreamt the whole bloody thing."

"It's my house," you say with a playful smile.

You roll onto your side, elbow tucked up under your head. "But not a dream. You passed out mid-sentence after calling me a saint and askin' where I keep the whiskey."

He groans again, this time with more feeling. "Christ. Romantic bastard, aren't I?"

You grin. "A real poet."

He stretches once more, then he sits up slowly, wincing. "Shite... ribs're bruised to hell. Can feel every breath like it owes me money."

"Let me check 'em."

"I'm grand," he says on reflex.

You raise a brow. "Try again."

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head fondly. "Y'know, yer a right pain in the arse."

"And you still came back."

He doesn't answer right away. Just watches you, eyes a little too honest for the first thing in the morning.

"Aye,' he finally says. "I did."

You sit up beside him, fingers brushing over the bruise blooming along his side. He flinches slightly but doesn't pull away.

"Why?" You ask. "Why me?"

He looks down for a second, picking at a thread in your blanket. Then, without looking up: "Because I walk into a lotta rooms feelin' like a ghost. But when I walk into yours? I feel like I'm still... me."

You blink. It's not a big speech. Not a grand declaration. But coming from him, it might as well be a sonnet.

You rest your hand over his.

"I don't want you to be a ghost, Filip. I want you here. Present. Breathing."

He finally looks at you, eyes glassy but steady. "Then I'll try. I can't promise I'll be good at it— but for you? I'll try."

A pause. Then he adds, quieter:

"Fuck, you make it hard not to love you."

You don't say anything. Just lean in, press your lips gently to his temple, and let your forehead rest there.

In that little moment— warm skin, shared breath, silence broken only by the rain gutters outside— it feels like maybe, just maybe, the war can wait a little longer.

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Bleedin' Heart~ C. Telford

~Chibs Telford x fem!reader

Summary: Your Scotsman has a lot brewing under all that rough biker persona, and you love him regardless.

CW: lowk sad chibs?, insinuated mental struggle but not directly stated, mentions of injury, let me know if I missed any!

A/N: finally writing for Chibs and lemme tell ya, sometimes I love men and one of those men is Chibs! This is angsty (still trying to get better at that), but with a fluffy-ish ending because God forbid I write another sad ending fic. Anyways! As always, enjoy, send a request if you like MWAH!!

The sound of rumbling bikes no longer made your skin dance. You don't flinch when you hear them rolling up at well past midnight, or when the doors of TM slam closed at ungodly hours. But, the knock at your door? Three sharp taps. Same rhythm every time?

That's different. That's still him.

You open the door and there he stands— Chibs Telford. Leaning a little heavier than usual, blood smeared on his knuckles, his jaw clenched like he's trying to keep everything inside. The rain makes his cut slick and shiny, his eyes dark and unreadable in the low light of the hallway.

"Y'alright if I come in?" His voice is low, laced with exhaustion. It's not really a question, and you don't treat it like one.

You take a step back from the door, and he enters like he belongs, which, at this point, he sort of does. Not officially. Not publicly. But between the quiet dinners, how he sleeps better in your bed, and how you patch him up with no question... yeah, he belongs.

He sits on the edge of your couch without taking off his cut. That's how you know it's bad—he never forgets to take it off unless he's too deep in his own head about the club.

You grab your first aid kit from under the kitchen sink. Again.

"Didn't know where else t'go," he mutters, eyes locked on the floor.

"You always say that," you reply softly, kneeling in front of him.

He doesn't respond. Just watches you with the same look he always wears when you clean him up—like it hurts more to be seen by you than it does to bleed.

Tonight's worse than usual. The bruises are deeper, and there's a cut along his ribs that needs more than disinfectant and some butterfly bandages. You work in silence, hands gentle, your heart not so much.

"You ever gonna tell me what happened?" you finally ask, fingers stained with dried blood.

He doesn't look at you. "Club business."

"You say that like it's supposed to mean somethin' to me."

That gets him. His jaw tightens, then he sighs like something inside him is coming undone.

"Means I'm tryin' to keep ya outta this mess, love. Means I don't want ye dragged down into the muck with the rest o' us."

You pause. "Maybe I'm already in it."

He looks at you then—really looks—and there's something like panic in his eyes. "Don't say that."

"Why not?"

"Because if you are, then that's my fault. And I couldn't live with that.

The words hang between you like smoke. Heavy. Slow to fade.

You sit back on your heels. "Filip... I don't want you to protect me from you. I just want you to let me carry some of it. You don't have to bleed alone."

His eyes close for a second. You think he's going to shut down again—but instead, he leans forward and rests his forehead to yours.

"I've never had this," he says, voice cracked open. "Not like this. Not where I come in, wrecked, and someone doesn't flinch. Where they still look at me like I'm worth the mess and hassle."

You swallow down the emotion building in your throat. "You are."

A long pause hangs in the air.

Then: "Stay the night."

You mean it like an offer. But it lands like a lifeline.

He doesn't answer. Just takes off his cut, lays it over the back of your couch, and pulls you gently into his arms. Like maybe tonight, he'll let himself rest.

Like maybe, here, the war can wait until morning.

A/N: lemme know if you want/ I should do a part 2!