#> it laughs and says 'its a good idea moron'

[phreaticlayer]

🩸😋~

[teaboot]

Sorry if this comes off as rude, or too personal, but how do you still have the mental strength to be like you are, after everything you've gone through? Like, not to make suffering a competition, but from what you've shared, it seems like you've had to deal with so much more than most, and yet you're still able to create, engage in the things you love and enjoy, and even wish better for the people who'd only want the worst for you. As someone who hasn't been able to do any of those for a while now, or feel anything beyond a sticky sense of resentment, I'd appreciate the words of someone who's been in shit miles deeper, if that isn't too much trouble. Sorry if this whole thing sounds weird, and thanks for being one of the weird funny guys on my dash, you've given me lots of laughs when I've needed them.

Oh, wow. Uh.

I think first off- not to minimize my experiences cause my therapist says not to do that- but I have a LOT of friends and loved ones who have been through much worse and are also doing good now, so that kinda helps. Knowing that if they got through things, I can too, and they don’t think less of ME for struggling.

Secondly… I think I used to not be so happy about life. I was really angry, really sharp and ascerbic, and when people who met me matched my energy, they’d be sharp and ascerbic back. And so I’d trap myself in this place where life ALREADY sucked, and then everyone around me was awful, so I’D be awful, and it would turn into this absolute mire of bad feeding bad.

And then one day I think after a long good cry in a public toilet, I just felt… better? Not BETTER, because I still had all my problems, but I think I was riding that post-cry high you get sometimes and the sun just looked brighter, and the annoying kids around me were just… less aggravating. The dumb teen boys being idiots were less “stupid morons with no depth who don’t care and can’t think” were just… regular old dumbasses having fun. And then I said hello to someone with a smile, and they smiled back, and we had this great conversation I never would have had otherwise, and I figured out that people are kind to you when you’re kind first.

Which seems obvious, but like… it’s hard to see anyone else when you’re hurting. And so when people are cruel or rude to me, I just think… wow. People probably see you being an asshole and treat you like an asshole. You probably see your own bad attitude reflected back at you everywhere you go, just like I did, and you probably have no idea. Every stranger you meet is a rude bitch who hates your face, and you’ll never be able to go anywhere that isn’t full of tense, defensive, cranky bastards until you figure out that YOU are causing the bulk of it. Like a dog trying to run from the shit on its tail.

And the idea of living your whole life where nobody is happy to see you, nobody truly enjoys your company, everyone is walking on eggshells and waiting for you to snap on them…. That’s a pretty sad and painful way to live your whole entire life.

So like. I try to treat people kindly, and in return I get to see happy people wherever I go. I try to make them laugh, and listen to them talk, and once they do they aren’t frightening or annoying or strange anymore.

most people, at least.

So like… I don’t think “look on the bright side” is the right answer, but maybe… find something good to believe in, and hold on.

I believe that people at large are good and kind or at least trying their best, and that those who can’t or aren’t are… sort of pitiable.

They don’t know where their pain is coming from, and they can’t make it go away, and it’s been like that so long they probably think the whole world is just LIKE that. So they never really get to experience the good things. And that’s… kind of like a hell, I think, in a way.

I don’t believe in karma. I don’t think I’m religious. I just think that we all want similar things, and we all fear similar things, and the ways we go about getting to or running from those things is different.

….if any of that makes sense.

[wakeup01]

Two Twinks, One Wish

“So Charlie, what did you wish for Christmas?”

“Really? Can we just watch the movie?” I say, annoyed.

Daniel had been my boyfriend for about a month now and had recently moved into my flat, just in time for Christmas. Since then things had been a struggle, he would continually whine about my inadequacies - how I didn’t tidy enough, didn’t appreciate him and most of all how I was a terrible top.

See, the problem was, we were both twinks. We had the same skinny body type, with barely any muscle definition. The only real difference being he had the better ass. Admittedly, I had a severe lack of confidence in the bedroom, frequently failing to get in the mood. Daniel on the other hand was very particular about what he liked and what he expected.

“Come on! You must be able to think of something. God knows there’s enough things you can be better at…” Daniel chastised.

Even now he had turned a harmless movie night into another chance to take petty digs. We were on the couch watching some cheesy xmas film, where the protagonist makes wishes that magically come true. Now he was insisting for me to make some stupid wish.

“Why don’t you go first? You seem to have a lot of ideas in mind.” I shoot back, not taking my eyes off the screen.

“Hmm, I got the perfect one! Charlie, I wish… you were a better top!” He laughs and nudges into my shoulder.

I roll my eyes, of course, I should of guessed this is where things were heading. Ugh. Out of nowhere I feel a chill wash over my whole body and a tightness take hold in my chest. After a moment the feeling subsides.

“Very funny. Have you been thinking that one up all night.” My voice dripping in sarcasm.

I shift in my seat slightly, a dull warmth emanating from my crotch. I must be feeling unwell, I’m definitely not being turned on by his degrading remarks. But the heat doesn’t fade, in fact it only grows in intensity. I get the impulse to grope at my growing bulge, the tightness straining against my jeans. Daniel would never live it down If I did, but it was becoming rather uncomfortable.

“You look a little flustered there… ah. I see. Are you really getting horny from this? Christ, you’re pathetic.” Daniel scolds, reaching his hand down.

Before I can object he unzips my trousers and pulls down the waistband of my briefs. My cock bursts forth and slaps against my chest, pre already leaking from it’s tip. Except it’s not my cock, this monster is almost twice my normal size. And my balls are inflating in front of my very eyes.

“What the hell?” I shout.

“Woah, oh shit, it’s working. It’s a Christmas miracle!” He exclaims in barely contained glee.

“Daniel, what did you do!” My voice cracks.

My dick continues to snake up my torso, going from 5 inches, to 7 then to 8. As it grows, so does my hornyness, overpowering my head as I fall into a drunken stupor. This is the most intense erection I’ve ever felt. My hand rubs up and down the entire length and I attempt to wrap my fingers around it, before discovering its girth is now thicker than my hand.

“Nice cock ‘bro’. Good tops are well equipped downstairs. And now, you are too. Hahaha” I look over and see him smirk at me.

He’s enjoying this far too much for my liking, but I’m in no position to fight back. Why did he make that stupid wish, I better not be stuck with this forever. At this point I don’t think my cock would even fit into any underwear I own. How exactly can I walk around with this thing swinging between my legs.

“You know who makes good tops? Jocks. That cocky attitude and carefree nature, coasting through life without thinking.” Daniel suggests, wistfully.

Jocks are also narcissistic morons. And I’m certainly not going to be one just to be a better ‘top’. I’m suddenly distracted by a chafing from my rear, a pair of straps seem to be cupping the cheeks of my tight butt. Below my balls now sits a stained pouch, the smell of musk rising from it hits my nose and I recoil.

“I think it’s jockstraps only from now on Charlie. And woof, sweaty ones at that.”

All of my senses are being overpowered, it’s like my head is in a vice that keeps on tightening. The film in front of me becomes a blur, my focus shattered by the intense pleasure from my new cock.

“Cock.” I blurt out.

I hear Daniel laughing from out of view.

My head is starved of oxygen as all the blood rushes to my groin, I’ve never been this horny before. I feel the strangest sensation as my brain thickens, filling up with throbbing meat. All the space padded out until I’m holding up a heavy dumbbell on the end of my neck. My thoughts were still there, somewhere, but it took so long to find them. It was quicker and easier to just embrace jockdom, stop worrying so much and just go along with the flow. If I was unsure of what to say then bro, I’d just say ‘bro’! A bro can fill in sentences with ‘bro’ and everyone will know what a bro they are. And bro? Being labeled as a dumb bro means no one expects anything meaningful from me. Brawn over brains is the mantra of my life dude.

“Jock’s also like to wear their bro-hood on their sleeves, and in your case, quite literally.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth I feel a sharp pain, as if a hundred needles are stabbing down my arm. I brace myself before glancing down. And there it was, 🍖 the meat emoji tattooed on my left hand. Huhhuh, awesome bro. Branded a meathead for life.

“Bro?” I ask slowly, my voice now considerably deeper.

“Yeah ‘Chad?’” Daniel emphasises.

The name immediately sticks to me like glue. Chad. I am such a Chad. I have some distant recollection of being someone else, but I can’t be bothered to search my brain for it. There’s a more pressing concern.

“Bruh, I need to empty my balls.” I grunt. The pressure from my engorged member becoming unbearable.

“Then you know what to do. Good muscle tops have their cocks milked every day.”

I grip my cock and begin pumping in earnest, my jaw hanging open. As I masturbate, my hands and arms bulk up with muscle. I see my veins very noticeably pop out. I feel a desperate urge to flex, letting one hand go from my dick. I ball it into a fist and raise it to the side of my head, squeezing my biceps. My arm pulses with meat, sending a vain satisfaction to my pleasure center.

“Good dumb tops spend all their time in the gym or on the field. Sculpting their body into the perfect chiselled shape.” His nasally voice instructs.

Muscle continues to form all over my lithe frame; my shoulders broaden and my chest ripples into a tight 6 pack. My clothes are loudly ripped to shreds. Memories enter my head of spending hours working out, of hanging with the other jocks and forming a vacant facade of a personality. Sweat drips from my hairy armpits, staining the couch under me. The room quickly starts smelling like a gym, my rank feet tearing free from my socks. My face cracks as it squares out into a more defined outline, brow growing heavy above my distant eyes. My body is now taking up most of the couch as Daniel budges over to the side. I quicken my pace, pumping now with both hands. My balls tighten.

“Fuck yeah brah.” I roar, reaching climax.

My cock spurts rope after rope of musky cum directly at my face, I’m left covered in my own seed. Daniel leans over to me and begins to eagerly lick at my face. He savours my taste on his tongue before swallowing. The sign of an expert bottom, huhuhu.

“Mmm. Great Tops know how to take control. And you’re a great top Chad.” Daniel moans in lust.

He’s right.

“Dude, this film is fucking dull. I’m changing to the sports channel bro. There’s a sick game playing today.” My hands take the remote and switch to a noisy football game.

I grab Daniels’s tiny little body and force him onto my lap. I flex again and push his face into my armpit. His tongue drags along my wiry dank hair. He moves his hand between my legs and starts passionately fingering his hungry ass hole, using my cum as lube. I hear him panting heavily like a dog. Man, my boyfriend is such a whiny brat…

“Bro, it’s my turn.” My cocky voice booms.

“What?” I hear his muffled voice cry out.

“Uhh… I wish… I wish you were a Bro like me, Bro.” I smirk.

“Wait, noooo!” He screams.

His body shudders and contorts as I hold his face to my pits with my newfound strength. He packs on pounds of muscle in a matter of seconds. Dan’s moaning turns to grunts. He’s going to make for such a Good. Arrogant. Dumb. Bro.

I watch his dong stretch down his leg, his balls sagging between his thickening thighs. The head of Dan’s veiny cock leaking like a faucet. A pair of juicy pecs push out from his chest and his adam apple swells. I pull away the remains of his clothes, letting them fall to the ground.

Dan’s dainty feet beef up to a size 12, sweat gathering between his toes - smelling like a real man should. I feel his previously fat bubble butt tense with lean muscle on my lap. With a squeak, his thoroughly abused fuck hole tightens shut, never to be stretched open again. He only tops after all, like me.

I release my grip on him and he pulls away, my sweat covering his square jawed face. He stuffs his junk into a jockstrap, looking barely concealed as it throbs with need. His messy hair has receded into a clean as fuck buzzcut. We now look almost identical, except that his meat emoji 🍖 tattoo is engraved on his right hand.

“Bro!” Dan’s voice deepens.

“Let’s go find some sluts to breed, bro.” We both smirk at each other and flex.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

last 5 years running out my mouth

katsuki bakugou x reader

one night, amongst the crowds and the music, katsuki wonders why he’s looking for you- he knows you don’t go to parties, anymore. themes of (katsuki’s) depression and substance usage

i love you 5sos nation 🪐 inspired by you dont go to parties

5 am.

katsuki’s clinging to his couch. everyone on his contact list, and everyone on their contact lists and so forth, stood in his house. red, drunken eyes dart around, as if looking for someone. though he knows its futile. you’re not there. at least, not anymore.

he groans, sitting up. he needs to vomit. this isn’t a good look for a new, fresh-faced hero. he pushes through the crowds, starting to kick people out. he didn’t care where they went, just not here.

he knocked over a vase. he’s probably offended a bunch of people. he’s trying to make it to a place in the apartment that doesn’t reek of alcohol and dead dreams- an ambitious attempt, to put it nicely.

he groans, bumping into someone. he grows even more frustrated when he sees who it is.

“katsuki, you’ve gotta sit down, man.” kirishima says, directing his friend to the bedroom. kirishima is a party goer, but lately, he knows to stay sober enough to keep things in check. someone had to be bakugou’s jailor.

katsuki doesn’t protest, sitting down while the redhead ushers everyone out of the house. he sighs, returning to the bedroom, seeing bakugou sitting there, his head in his hands.

“fuck… i don’t know.” he pinches the bridge of his nose. he doesn’t curse out of anger or hatred; he curses out of sadness. katsuki sits there, like theres vultures spinning around him, waiting for their time to strike.

what a tragedy.

bakugou opens his mouth to say something, but the overwhelming urge to vomit takes over. kirishima walks over, pushing him onto the bed and making sure he lays on his side. he stares, heartbroken, wondering where it all went wrong.

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you prayed he’d just talk to you, about his fears and about his doubts. you wish he’d be honest about his panic attacks, especially after the war. he’d wake up in a cold sweat, remembering the fighting, remembering the tears. but some invisible barricade caged his feelings inside his heart. this had to be his battle.

he’s still there in the darkness, feeling like a heartless monster. he’s starting to come undone, the sadness in his bones seeping into the security and confidence once embedded in him. maybe he isn’t who he set out to be in the first place.

but he’s not gonna let you know that.

“told you i’m find, moron.” he says, spooning you. he hopes you don’t notice how glossy his red eyes are, but you do.

“katsuki, please-“

“i’m fine.”

you bite your lip. if you can’t get him to open up, maybe you can take his mind off of it. a party never hurt anybody, right?

“…denki’s throwing this get-together tomorrow night.” you say, proposing the idea to him. “its a reunion for our class. we should go. it’ll get your mind off of… whatever it is.”

he scoffs, musing that he’s too good for parties. “yeah, a bunch of lightweight assholes i have to drive home? no thanks.”

“oh c’mon, it’ll be fun.” you pout.

it’ll be fun, and because you’re desperate to see a smile on his face again, even if its from laughing at his friends drunken antics. anything that’ll have even a semblance of your katsuki back.

“i’ll think about it.” he can’t say no to that face.

and that was the first time you ever saw katsuki drink.

he can handle his alcohol well, actually. he keeps you close by him, starting with one shot, and then another, and then kissing your neck in front of all your friends while his bitter breath tickles your skin.

he was laughing, enjoying himself. he was surrounded by people who diminished his doubts. a night of partying and fun did him some good.

what you didn’t anticipate, however, was how often he was attending them now.

the fame followed him everywhere. katsuki would end up in different celebrities’s basements, with close friends or even strangers. at first, you went with him. but it were as if the alcohol formed oceans between you two, separating you from katsuki.

he’s spiralling and you can see it. he’d chase down all that pain with shots, and all that trauma with drunken dares and released inhibitions. at first, you went with him to have fun. then, you went with him to make sure he didn’t take his foot off the breaks. now, you couldn’t bring yourself to go at all.

“katsuki, you need to stop.” you say, following one of his nasty hangovers.

he groans, clutching his temples. “don’t… god, you’re making my head spin, [y/n].”

“i’m making your head spin?” you scoff. “no, thats because you were out till 3 last night.”

“it was denki’s birthday.” he tries to excuse himself.

“no, it was sero’s, and they told me you were shitfaced for most of it!” you raise your voice, tears brimming.

his eyes widen, seeing how upset you are. he knows its irresponsible, but he also knows being drunk was a way to feel something, anything other than sad. given the choice between drowning in whiskey and drowning in tears, he chose the one that was capable of poisoning him.

“please.” you plead. “stop with the parties, with the drinking. its hurting you!”

“i have it under control!”

“you don’t!”

he stands up, his hangover more evident than ever. “god fucking damnit, [y/n]. if all you’re gonna do is bitch and moan like a fucking extra, just go!”

exactly 2 seconds in, katsuki realized what he said. but he’s too late.

theres a palpable silence in the air, followed by the sniffling crinkle of your nose as the tears cascade down.

“[y/n], babe, baby, i’m sorry. fuck, i-“

you slap him, cutting him off. his head whips to the side, just taking it. he wants to argue back, but he knows he deserved that.

you pack up your things, and he doesn’t have it in him to try and stop you. he begs in his mind for you to stay. secretly, you’re begging that he’ll beg.

but he doesn’t. and you leave.

subsequently, katsuki’s partying habit goes from controlled to dangerous.

he’s never not drunk, never not out doing something with people he doesn’t know. he’s always staying just a bit too late, but always manages to kick himself out in time to get to work. he’s always irritable, in part to the hangovers but largely in part to your absence.

people are starting to catch on. maybe not the fans, who adore him and his looks no matter what, but his colleagues have noticed a shift. the no-bullshit, toughed out dynamight sunk somewhere beneath his rising blood-alcohol levels.

still, he looks for you. he wonders if you’re still on the couch, singing karaoke with your friends, belting and humming along to the tunes. he thinks you might be in the kitchen, making yourself a drink and calling an uber in advance. or maybe you’re in the washroom, overstimulated, your anxiety taking over. anxiety he knows all too well. the anxiety he tried to hide beneath parties.

some nights, he’ll drunkenly stumble into the washroom, whether its his own or someone else’s. he’ll wonder if you’re there, sitting on the sink, ready to leave with him to your shared home.

but its another lonely night.

you don’t go to parties anymore.

because you’ve stayed at home, crying over photos, wearing his hoodies. everything you’ve learned about katsuki during your split had been against your will. there was silence from him, but the whispers of news and gossip tabloids could scream. you’re mad, yes, but you also pray for his safety.

selfishly so, you hope he still looks for you at those parties. at least there, he cares a little. maybe even more than you realize.

right now, he’s sitting on the couch with kirishima, denki, and sero. though all of them have had a bit to drink, katsuki is undoubtedly the worst of them all. he’s bitching about you, about missing you, about how you left him.

“she just.. got up and fucking left.” he slurs, leaning his head back. the mood is killed, and no one really has the energy to argue. except maybe for denki, who points out the obvious.

“you told her to leave. and she had a good reason for bringing it up to you, dude.” denki says. “can’t blame her for walking out on you.”

silence. the calm before the storm.

exactly 5 seconds later, katsuki is positively losing his shit, yelling at denki who just sits there, dumbfounded. kirishima is holding his friend back while sero attempts to position himself between the two. its one thing to be yelled at. but being yelled at by katsuki bakugou? thats something else.

“i don’t know what to do, man.” sero says, looking at eijirou for answers. the redhead honestly isn’t sure either. one thought crosses his mind, but he’s worried.

“get him to sit down.” eijirou says. “i’m calling [y/n].”

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“hello?” you say into the receiver. theres a pit in your stomach hearing ejirou’s voice, knowing he wouldn’t call you if it wasn’t an emergency.

“hey [y/n], listen… katsuki’s drunk, and he’s yelling at denki… i’m so sorry, but… you think you can come get him?”

god, its exhausting being a good person sometimes.

“yeah, i’ll be right there.” you huff, grabbing your car keys. eijirou thanks you, knowing you might be the one thing that calms him down right now.

all 3 boys help get him into your car. your heart clenches, seeing just how badly he’s been doing. he’s sick, and he’s tired. his eyes are swollen from crying, you know it.

eijirou leaves you with a long hug, arms embracing you. “take care.” he says. “call me if he acts up. he might need someone to kick his ass.”

you chuckle, for what feels like the first time in forever. “yeah, he could.”

when you re-enter the car, you don’t start it right away. you look over at katsuki in the passenger seat. maybe he’s starting to sober up, or he’s drunk enough where he’s starting to be honest.

“i’m so fuckin’ sorry, babe.” he says. you just nod, eyes welling up with tears, words failing you.

he laughs bitterly, head leaning your way. “i’m a mess, [y/n]. like, a real mess. doctor told me i have depression. i didn’t tell you ‘cause i didn’t wanna look weak. pathetic, right? i feel pretty weak right now.”

you look over at him, already wanting to cry all over again. you should have seen the signs. right now, they are so glaringly obvious- the detachment, the avoidance, the drinking….

“and i miss you more than anything.” he says. “i wish i just… talked to you more. even if its your shitty knock-knock jokes.”

you’re crying, but you do scoff a little, holding his hand. “my knock-knock jokes are not stupid.”

“knock knock.” he says.

“who’s there?”

“i still love you. and thats the worst part about all these damn parties… you weren’t there. i don’t care about parties if you’re not there.”

that might have been the most sober thing he’s said all night.

you don’t say anything, not ready to forgive. but you do place a kiss to his cheek before driving him home.

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a few days later, katsuki shows up to your house at 9 o’clock sharp- a new record considering the recent events. he called in advance, but your heart still skips a little when you open the door and motion for him to enter.

the bags under his eyes have reduced. he’s nor slurring his words, and he’s not snapping at all. he seems… better.

“i uh… brought you coffee.” he says, awkwardly handing you the cup. “i got you some sugar and creamer, cause i didn’t know how you like it.” he shoves his hands into his pocket and takes out the packets.

“katsuki, i have that all here.” you almost laugh at his nervousness. its clear that this has taken a hold on him. as he sobers, he feels the need to rebuild himself again.

“right, sorry, smartass.” he says, he sounds like an asshole, but its a nickname you’ve both grown used to.

physically, he seems like he’s finally gotten some rest. on the inside, however, you can see the turmoil in his eyes. he had spent weeks drunk on distractions. now, he’s facing all the things he’s fucked up.

you think back to what he said in the car. about his diagnosis, about his struggles. you wonder just how long he’s been feeling that tv static in his head, how long he’s been bullying himself. you wonder how strong his demons are, how they’ve got hands and how he was struggling to fight them.

it breaks your heart.

“i… i know what i told you the other night.” he huffs, hands in his pockets. “i remember that much.”

“…why didn’t you say anything?” you dare to utter, wanting to see his pain and wanting to shield him from it.

he pauses, finding the right words. “…i don’t know. i’m a hero, i’m the god damn best. i didn’t wanna look weak.”

“depression isn’t a weakness, kats.” you remind him, that familiar nickname rolling off of your tongue in a way that makes his heart ache. “especially after everything you’ve been through.”

he knows what you mean. the relentless training, the fights, all the times he thought he was going to die. honestly, he didn’t think he’d make it this far. everyday could have been his last.

“it just… hurts.” he admits, wincing at the vulnerability in his tone. “so damn much… like… i don’t know. like i’m trapped.”

his voice cracks at that last part.

“i don’t know what to do. how to deal with this. i just know i’m sick of parties. i’m sick of being away from you. i-“

you cut him off with a hug there, enough to get his eyes misty. he hugs you back instantly, fitting in with you like a puzzle piece. burying his face in your neck, he inhales and lets himself get lost in you.

“you don’t have to know what to do.” you say, stroking his back. “as long as you’re done hurting yourself. i’m here, you asshole.”

you shed a few tears as well as katsuki sobs that he’s sorry. but as you hold him, he admits to himself that vulnerability didn’t kill him- it just brought him closer to you. after days of searching for you at parties, during lonely nights, you’ve got him again.

and he’s never letting you go.

[solsticehymns]

TOO GOOD TO BE FAKE: CHAPTER 7

JAMES POTTER X F!READER

a/n: omgomgomg its hereeeee the final chapter!!!! 😭😭 i really really hope i did it justice and that you guys like it, fr I loved writing this series so much and it came from a very real place in my heart as silly as it sounds so... thank you for getting this far. mwah mwah, sunny ☀️🌻

series page for prev chapters

wc: 3466

7: You Ruined It

— 1 —

James storms into the Gryffindor common room with a grimace so dark that even Sirius, who is halfway through shuffling a deck of Exploding Snap cards, immediately clocks that something is wrong.

“Oi, this is going to be good, fellas,” Sirius announces to his suitemates, sitting up straighter as James throws himself into an armchair like it personally insulted him. He slouches low, arms crossed, radiating pure frustration.

Remus, ever the voice of reason, doesn’t even look up from his book. “What happened?”

James exhales sharply through his nose. “She broke up with me.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Peter lets out a low whistle. “Oof, mate.”

Sirius slams the deck of cards down on the table. “Hold on. Hold on. She broke up with you?” He looks almost offended on James’ behalf, like the very idea of someone willingly walking away from him is unfathomable.

James drags a hand through his already-messy hair. “Yes.”

Sirius blinks, then throws his head back and laughs.

James glares. “Oh, brilliant. Yeah, let’s all just have a good laugh about it.”

Sirius holds up a finger, trying and failing to contain himself. “No, no— sorry, I just— I mean, you’re telling me you got fake dumped?” He lets out another chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh, Prongs, mate. This is history in the making.”

James scowls harder, sinking lower into the chair. “Glad I can provide you with some hearty entertainment.”

Remus, who has finally looked up from his book, sighs heavily. “Alright, let’s start from the beginning. There’s got to be a reason. What happened?”

James exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, still trying to piece it together himself. “She just— she pulled me aside this morning at breakfast and said we should stop.”

Remus raises a brow. “Just like that?”

James nods, then shakes his head. “I mean, yeah. Pretty much.”

Sirius is still grinning. “What’d you do?”

James throws up his hands. “I didn’t do anything!”

Remus fully closes his book now, sighing deeply and pinching the bridge of his nose. James’ lack of situational awareness will always be astounding to him.

“Right, mate, retrace your steps. What happened before that?” He asks, warily.

James blinks. “What?”

“You heard me,” Remus says patiently, like he’s dealing with a particularly dense child. “Before she pulled you aside and dumped you, what happened? What did you do? Where were you?”

“Nothing before breakfast!” James exclaims, throwing his hand up and stuttering a few more useless fragments of words. Then he frowns, thinking. “I went to the Astronomy Tower last night.”

Sirius whistles. “Romantic.”

James ignores him. “I was alone, just thinking. Then Lily showed up.”

Three sets of eyes immediately narrow.

“Oh, Prongs,” Peter mutters.

James splutters, gesturing madly. “Wh— B— Nothing happened! We were talking about… something, completely unrelated,” he goes on unconvincingly. The other boys raise their brows, waiting for the punchline, knowing there’s more.

“...she came in and saw Lily talking to me, I guess, then she just left.” He stutters in his explanation, raising both hands in defense.

Then Sirius slaps both hands on the table. “Well there’s your problem!”

James is nearly driven mad. “What?!”

Remus pinches the bridge of his nose again. “James. She saw you with Lily.”

“Yeah?” He’s scratching his head.

Sirius looks at him like he’s the dumbest person alive. “And then she broke up with you the next morning.”

James stares. “What are you—”

Remus sighs. “She thinks you still have feelings for Lily, you absolute moron.”

James opens his mouth and finds nothing to say.

“No, she—” He stops mid-sentence, brain finally catching up. Oh.

Oh.

Sirius, shaking his head in absolute disbelief, gestures wildly at him. “I mean, come on, mate. What do you think she saw? You and your ex-girl-of-obsession having some serious private conversation in your secret meeting spot?”

“It wasn’t serious,” James mutters, but the words feel hollow now.

“It doesn’t matter,” Remus says, voice even. “It looked serious. To her.”

And just like that, James feels like the world has shifted entirely beneath him.

It’s so stupidly obvious now.

She walked in at the worst moment, and instead of asking, instead of waiting, she assumed the worst, throwing the entire relationship down the drain.

James exhales sharply, shaking his head at himself. No wonder she looked so set on it. She wasn’t pulling away because she didn’t care. She was pulling away because she thought she was in the way.

His stomach lurches uncomfortably. She thought she was doing the right thing, thought she was stepping aside, making it easier for him to be with Lily– and, well, James had just let it happen. He had just stood there.

Said Sure, darling. Whatever you want.

Like it meant nothing. Like she meant nothing.

He groans loudly, tipping his head back against the chair. “I’m such a bloody idiot.”

Sirius claps a hand to his chest, looking delighted. “Finally, something we agree on.”

James throws a balled-up napkin at his face.

Sirius dodges it effortlessly, laughing. “So what’s the plan, Prongs? You gonna fix this?”

James rubs a hand over his mouth, his mind racing, his heart hammering. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Remus says simply, turning back to the bookmarked page his book like this was all inevitable.

Peter nods, adding, “You might want to do it fast, though.”

Sirius grins. “Before she convinces herself you really don’t like her.”

James swallows hard, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach.

She already thinks that.

And he has no bloody clue how he’s going to fix it.

But he’s going to.

— 2 —

I am dramatically horizontal on my bed, face half-buried in a pillow, limbs sprawled out like a tragic heroine in the final act of a particularly cruel Shakespearean play. Alice and Jade are sitting beside me, one at the foot of the bed, the other perched near my shoulder, both doing their best to deal with my absolute downward spiral.

Alice throws up her hands. "We told you everything BUT break up with him!"

Jade stares, utterly exasperated. "It was going so well! You were literally glowing yesterday! And now you look like you just got hit by the Knight Bus."

I groan into the pillow. "I panicked."

Alice lets out an actual shriek. "YOU THINK?"

Jade rubs her temples like she’s in physical pain. "Okay. Breathe. What the hell happened? Because last we checked, you were flirting, kissing, and living every girl’s dream, and now you’re miserable."

I sigh, voice muffled in my pillow. "I saw him with Lily."

Alice slaps a hand over her face. "And you— because—?"

Jade groans. "You absolute idiot."

Alice fumes. "So, let me get this straight, instead of talking to him, you just… nuked the whole thing?!"

I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. "Yes. And now I feel like I'm dying."

Jade sighs, rubbing my arm sympathetically. "Well. Good news is, you’re not dying. Bad news is, you’re gonna have to fix this."

Alice crosses her arms. "You didn’t even give him a chance to explain?"

I shake my head, pressing my palms against my temples. "You didn’t see the way he looked at me."

Alice frowns. "And how was that?"

I bite my lip, fingers curling into my blanket. "Like… like he was already done. Like he wasn’t going to fight me on it." My voice wobbles slightly, but I shove the feeling down, pressing forward. "Like maybe he really is over it. Over me."

Alice exhales sharply, rubbing her temples, forcing back a laugh. "Merlin, you’re so stupid."

Jade gives her a warning look. "Alice."

"No, I mean it!" Alice turns back to me, fully exasperated. "You think he didn’t fight because he was over it? Babe, he didn’t fight because he didn’t understand why the hell you were doing it!"

I hesitate.

Jade tilts her head. "Did he even try to argue?"

I shake my head, my throat tight. "No. He just said… sure, darling. Whatever you want." I can hear it in his voice with disturbing clarity.

Alice throws up her hands. "Exactly!"

Jade nods, like it all makes sense now. "He thought it’s what you wanted."

Alice leans forward, squinting at me. "Did you even tell him why?"

I freeze.

My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, before I realize—no.

I didn’t.

I didn’t tell him it was all because I saw him with Lily. I didn’t tell him I thought he still wanted her. I didn’t tell him I was stepping aside so he could be happy. I didn’t tell him that this was supposed to be for his sake, not mine.

I just ended it.

I let out a horrified noise, clutching at my blanket like it holds all the answers. "Oh, fuck."

Alice throws her hands in the air. "Finally, she gets it!"

Jade sighs, rubbing my shoulder gently. "Babe. He didn’t argue because he thought you meant it."

Alice snorts. "And if there’s one thing James Potter won’t do, it’s beg someone to keep dating him when they’ve already made up their mind."

I feel like the floor just dropped out from under me.

I don’t get a chance to process it.

Because before I can say anything, before I can figure out what the hell to do next, the dormitory door opens, and Simon steps inside.

It’s not unusual—he’s close with our friend group, often stopping by to chat, to check in, to drag Alice into some absolutely ridiculous conversation about Quidditch statistics. Normally, I don’t think twice about it.

But right now—right now, everything feels different.

Because I haven’t thought about Simon in days.

I stare at him, pulse stuttering, realization crashing into me all at once.

I let go of James for him.

I told myself this was about Lily, but it wasn’t, not really.

It was about giving James back the thing I thought he wanted… but I never considered what I wanted.

Because if this were about Simon, if this were about getting back the person I used to spend every waking moment pining over, then why does it feel like I just lost everything?

— 3 —

Simon’s presence lingers in the dormitory like a misplaced object—something that used to belong but now just feels out of place. The girls exchange a glance, and with an unconvincing stammer about homework, swiftly make their exit.

He looks at me carefully, studying my face with an unreadable expression, but there’s no tension in his stance, no frustration in his eyes. If anything, he looks… resigned. Like he already knows what I’m going to say before I say it.

I sit up, adjusting my posture, hands clasped together in my lap to stop myself from fidgeting. My thoughts are still spinning from Alice and Jade tearing my life apart with brutal accuracy, but one thing is clear.

I need to end this. For good.

“Simon,” I start, voice softer than I expect, steadier than I feel. “This… whatever was between us, whatever I thought I wanted—it’s over. It’s been over.”

He exhales, slow and measured, like he’s been waiting for this confirmation. “Yeah,” he says simply, nodding once. “I figured.”

That takes me off guard. “You… did?”

Simon lets out a small, humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, you think I didn’t notice?” He glances at me, one brow raised, expression somewhere between understanding and humored. “I know you. I know how you look at someone when you want them. And you haven’t looked at me like that in a long time.”

A stab of guilt carves into my ribs, but I nod slowly, because he’s right.

I don’t feel relieved at having him here. I don’t feel butterflies, or tension, or anything close to what I used to feel when I was around him.

I feel… nothing.

And that’s the difference.

It’s almost laughable, how different this feels now. Months ago, I would have given anything for him to say my name like this. Now, it just sounds like closure.

Simon shifts, crossing his arms loosely over his chest. “So. James, then?”

My stomach flips, just from the mention of his name. “What?”

Simon just gives me a look. “I mean, unless you’re planning to tell me you’re swearing off relationships entirely, which, honestly, would be more convincing if you weren’t currently losing your mind over breaking up with him.”

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my face, my fingers pressing into my temple. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Simon nods, like he understands that, like he isn’t going to push me for an answer I don’t have. “For what it’s worth,” he says, voice even, “it did look real.”

Something tightens in my chest. I glance up at him, brows furrowing. “What?”

Simon shrugs. “You and James. It wasn’t just for show. Not to him. And definitely not to you.”

He says it so easily. It sounds so simple coming from him, like it’s just that obvious to everyone except me.

I let out a breath, nodding once. “Thank you.”

Simon hesitates for a moment, then adds in one short breath, like maybe it hurts him to admit the fact: “He really cares about you. It’s hard not to.” He tilts his head, considers me for a second longer, then steps back. “Go fix it. He’s waiting for you.”

And just like that, he walks away.

No lingering tension, no unresolved emotions. Just a closed chapter.

Thank goodness.

— 4 —

I lie awake for what feels like hours, staring at the ceiling, trying to untangle the mess I’ve gotten myself into, trying to figure out how to get myself out of it.

Everything feels too big, too uncertain, but the one thing I know with absolute clarity is this: I don’t want this to be over.

I don’t want James to look at me like I’m a stranger.

I don’t want to live in the world where he thinks I don’t want him, where he doesn’t try to fight for this because I made him believe there was nothing worth fighting for.

And now, for the first time in weeks, I have no more excuses.

I have to make a choice.

I inhale, slow and deep, pressing a hand to my chest to steady my pulse.

Tomorrow.

If James wants to fix things, he’ll find me.

And if he doesn’t—if the weight of this doesn’t crush him the way it’s crushing me, if he lets me slip away without a second thought—then I’ll find him instead.

I close my eyes, letting the thought settle, letting myself breathe.

No more waiting. No more wondering. No more what-ifs.

Tomorrow.

— 5 —

The castle is alive with the rush of students heading to their first classes, the usual hum of conversation filling the corridors. It should feel like any other morning, but it doesn’t.

Because the second I turn the corner, I see him: 

James. Standing at the other end of the hall, watching me like I’m the only thing in the world he can see. The people around us fade into nothing. Alice, Jade, Remus, Sirius, and Peter all catch sight of us at the same time. There’s no hesitation. They scatter. Like rats from a sinking ship.

I barely register it, barely process the way Alice grabs Jade’s wrist and practically drags her in the opposite direction, or how Sirius lets out an exaggerated “Welp, gotta go!” before disappearing into the nearest classroom.

I can’t focus on any of it, because James is already walking toward me.

His expression is unreadable—not smug, not teasing, not hiding behind some playful remark like he usually does.

Just open. Intent. Unwavering.

He stops in front of me, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, close enough that my breath catches before I even realize it.

I’m about to open my mouth, to tell him how sorry I am and how wrong I’ve been, how I should’ve told him everything from the start. But then, without preamble, without hesitation or overthinking, he says the one thing that silences me completely.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

The words land with the force of something inevitable, something that had been waiting to be spoken into existence, something that was always meant to be said.

My fingers curl at my sides. “James—”

“I didn’t want to break up,” he repeats, firmer this time, like he’s making sure I hear it, like he’s making sure there’s no room for misinterpretation. “I didn’t argue because I thought it was what you wanted. And Merlin, if I had known for even a second that you didn’t want it, that you were just saying it because of some ridiculous, idiotic idea that I still wanted Lily—”

I flinch.

His jaw tightens, breath coming shallower, faster, his eyes flickering across my face, desperate and searching. “I don’t want Lily. I haven’t wanted Lily for a long time. And I don’t know what you think happened between us, but you—” He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “You are the only thing I want. You have been the only thing I want.”

My heart stumbles over itself.

“James,” I start again, but my voice betrays me, wobbles, gives me away.

His expression softens slightly, but his intensity never fades. “I wanted you before I even realized it. I wanted you before I knew what I was doing, before I had a chance to stop it, before I even thought to question if it was part of the act. It wasn’t. It never was.”

He shakes his head, like he can’t believe how long it took to get here, like he’s frustrated at himself for not saying this sooner. “You ruined the plan. You ruined all of it.”

My breath hitches.

His voice drops lower, steadier. “I was supposed to be pretending, and instead, I was falling for you.”

My world tilts to a new axis. Every ounce of control I had left snaps. I shake my head, chest too tight, words barely escaping. “You—”

“I love you,” he says, cutting me off, shattering every last defense I have, stripping everything bare. My throat closes. My mind blanks.

James doesn’t stop. He doesn’t give me time to breathe, to process, to do anything but stand there and feel it.

“I love you,” he says again, quieter this time, like it’s something he’s carried for longer than he should have, like it’s something that’s been trying to escape him for months. “I love you, and I don’t care if it wasn’t supposed to happen, I don’t care if it wasn’t part of the plan, I don’t care if you’re not ready to say it back—” He pauses, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. “Just don’t walk away again. Stay here, don’t leave.”

I think my heart might actually stop beating.

Because he means it.

Every word.

It’s in his voice, in his face, in the way he’s standing there like he’s risking everything, like this is his final chance, like he’ll take whatever answer I give him, but he won’t let me run without knowing the truth.

I inhale sharply, and for the first time since this started, since I panicked, since I ruined everything, since I convinced myself I was doing the right thing, I let myself feel all of it.

I let myself feel how much I wanted him to chase me.

I let myself feel how much I missed him the second I told him to go.

I let myself feel the kiss, and the way my heart nearly burst out of my chest when I realized he meant it.

I let myself feel how much I love him.

And before I can even register it, I’m moving.

I don’t think, I don’t second-guess, I don’t stop.

I grab his face in both hands, pulling him down, pressing my lips to his in a kiss that is absolutely, completely, undeniably real.

James makes a sound in the back of his throat, something surprised, something relieved, something that feels like laughter, before he kisses me back, full and deep and completely unguarded.

I don’t know how long we stand there.

All I know is that when we finally pull apart, my hands still tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped tightly around me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, I feel lighter than I have in weeks.

James grins against my lips. “So, that’s a yes, then?”

I laugh, breathless, overwhelmed, ruined, entirely his.

“Yeah, Potter,” I murmur, pressing my forehead against his, peering at delighted hazel eyes through lenses. “That’s a yes.”

♡

end of series! thanks for reading this far 🩷

☀️🌻

tags: @azure-drag0ness @poppet05 @holholliday @d1lf-loverrr @mp-littlebit

[katyawriteswhump]

wip weekend: new omega kitty cafe fic 🐈‍⬛

this little idea isn't set in the same universe as Love and other Catastrophes at the Omega Café.  i wanted to write more Omega kitty café fic, but didn’t want to disrupt the arc of the previous one… so i guess it’s an AU of that fic with a different set up. O!Steve owns the cafe, which is Comfort Omega focussed (he still wears the cat-boy ears ofc) and A!Eddie is his pastry supplier. i will try and get the first part up tomorrow...

🐈‍⬛💚🐈‍⬛💚🐈‍⬛💚🐈‍⬛💚

“Anything else I can do to help?” Eddie sidestepped a dainty afternoon tea table, as he headed back across the café.

“No, thanks. I’m good.” Steve snapped his chin up. He’d been fixating on the snug fit of Eddie’s ripped jeans, particularly around the crotch. “Um, Wayne always delivers to the other entrance. Will he be back tomorrow?”

“’Fraid not.” The Alpha sighed toward a fluffy purple rug, and his face twitched strangely. “He’s in hospital.”

Steve’s stomach dropped like a stone. “Shit! Is it serious?”

“Honestly, Honey? I dunno.”

Wayne. In hospital. Possibly seriously ill. Steve stared through Eddie like the Alpha had vanished. No, not Wayne. Not kind, ever-supportive Wayne…

“Christ, Steve, you look like you need a hug.”

Steve barely took in the words. His knees wobbled as dramatically as his lower lip. The Alpha approached, and Steve hunched in on himself, braced for… something. Instead, Eddie opened his arms, a respectful foot away, and the pull proved magnetic. Steve tumbled forward, strong Alpha arms banded around him, and he buried his face in Eddie’s t-shirt. His arms hugged around the Alpha’s neck like a crazy little spider-monkey scared of falling out of its tree.

“Hey, it’s all right, Sweetheart.” Eddie rubbed circles between Steve’s shoulder-blades. “Sorry I scared you. Listen, this is Wayne, huh? He’d be cut up if I told him you were upset, and… he’s gonna pull through, okay?”

Steve sniffled into Eddie’s solid chest. “I’m sorry. It was… kinda the last straw this morning. Running a business as an Omega is hard. Most people try to rip you off, trip you up, but n-not Wayne. N-never Wayne. He’s the best, and… and, I don’t feel so great this morning… and th-the m-mess with the coffee beans, and… Oh crap, I’m making this all about me. I’m such an unforgivable moron.”

“Hush, you’re good.” Eddie patiently soothed and rocked him, while Steve whimpered, and his inner voice sniped, What the fuck are you doing snivelling all over a stranger, and an Alpha one at that? “You know, you’re my last delivery. I really can stay and help sweep up those beans. What d’ya say, Kitty-cat?”

“Huh?”

Steve peeped up through the blur of his lashes. Eddie’s eyes were chocolate-cinnamon whirlpools that seemed to suck him in.

Kind eyes. Not something he ever expected in an Alpha. They were a little like Wayne’s.

“Steve? You want me to stay and help?”

Steve nodded vacantly. While his heart still bled for Wayne, the rest of his ditzy O-head senses were going crazy for pastries again. He inhaled a fruity hint of blueberry, mingled with still-warm all-butter pastry, apart from…

He plastered his wet face against the Alpha’s throat, snuffling and rooting around.

Oooooooh, that makes sense!

The irresistible smell was not the muffins, nor even the cinnamon swirls. The most sumptuous threads of fresh bakery goods radiated from Eddie’s scent gland.

Steve wallowed in it, all but chewed on it, while Eddie’s delicious musk fizzed and frothed to every corner of his lungs. Then a laugh rumbled from the Alpha’s chest: “You scenting me there, Kitty?”

“Shit!” Steve jumped away, sending a chair toppling, and sweeping his hair from his clammy brow. “Oh my God, I honestly don’t know what came over me. Christ! I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He straightened the chair then his cat ears and started pacing, arms wrapped tight around himself. “I've been a comfort Omega since I was 19! I’ve never, ever, done anything inappropriate like that, and… and… I drooled on your t-shirt!”

“Relax, Steve.” Eddie’s squeeze of his shoulder stilled his feet and calmed him slightly. “Look, I reckon we both needed a hug this morning, and the hospital won’t let me see my uncle till noon. I can hang around, or do I give you some space?”

Wayne was Eddie’s uncle?

Steve gawked up at him, on the verge of losing his shit all over again. He’d been sobbing over Wayne, when it must be so much worse for Eddie. Whose kind, reassuring gaze captured Steve’s and held it. Another gentle squeeze, and Steve was okay again.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

no pressure tag @wheneverfeasible 💕💕💕💕💕

my steddie fic on AO3 💕💕💕💕💕

[slamsuckingslut]

willne and y/n being good friends, where shes been in his videos a couple times before and people always do edits of them and lowkey ship them⭐️

and everybody thinks theyre dating but theyre all like "no guys😣!!" but they actually are down bad for eachother

PLEASE MAKE THEM END UP TOGETHERRR😭

thanks bestie!☺️

Omg this is a cute idea. i fw cutesy shit like this heavy anon. I'm gonna assume fem reader cause u said she, so she it will be.

WillNE x fem!reader

No details abt y/n, just that she is girl and has been on Wills channel and has one of her own.

Potential title;

what the fans want, the fans get.(its me, im fans.)

NO NSFW, JUST CUTESY !!

Anytime Will posted a video and y/n was in it, it would get more views than the ones with James, or if y/n posted featuring Will. And mainly because the comments.

lord the comments.

"omg they'd literally be the best power couple on youtube"

"THE TENSION, JUST KISS ALREADY"

"PLSSS I NEED YOU TWO TO GET TOGETHER ALREADYY"

"bro fr rizzed her up"

Will and y/n never directly responded to comments, unless one made a joke to the other about them, making the other blush slightly. Or if James decided to make a joke, which would make both of them incredibly flustered as they immediately deflected it.

"what? Me and her/him would never work, dating her/him would be a bloody nightmare."

"Will(or)Y/n? Seriously? Nah, I don't think that'd work.."

Are just a few of the usual responses to either of them would give if asked about the comments, or if a joke happened to be made.

But privately, it wasn't so much of a joke. Will would make it seem like he couldn't stand dating her, but really that's all he wanted. And y/n seemed to think Will genuinely didn't want her, but she most definitely wanted him.

The way she'd stare at him when he spoke, or did anything really, would make Will's heart skip a beat.

The way Will would offer to help her with things or get things higher up for her gave her butterflies, especially if he reached around her.

Basically the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and the fans definitely noticed more and more in the videos of the two together.

And like the fans they are, would comment on every single little interaction and blow up the videos by just shipping them.

Today was no different, y/n being at Will's as they talk over ideas for videos and hang out, and boy are the comments from the fans relentless.

"Y'know, Will, I think the fans want us to get together. Wouldn't it be funny if we did a joke video of us going on a date or something? Just to mess with them?"

Will immediately blushed but hid by turning away slightly and letting out a laugh as he nodded, he managed to get himself under control and not blush.. but his cheeks were still definitely pink at the idea of taking her on a date, even as a joke.

"Ah yeah, that'd be well fun, eh? Get to take a pretty girl like you out and mess with those morons."

Now it's y/ns turn to blush as she stares at him and smiles a bit, letting out a little laugh. She nods a bit and stares at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

"But just as a joke.. right? Wouldn't want to over indulge them, right?"

Will seemed to think for a second at that as he stared at her, not really knowing what to say. He could either reject the girl he's been wanting for ages or make a fool of himself if she didn't want him.

She stared at him as she waited for a response, hoping he'd say for real, but also hoping that'd he'd play it off as a joke just so it doesn't get awkward.. but it's already awkward as they silently stare at eachother.

"I uhm-.. I mean if you want it to be a real date, I'd take you on one.. but surely you wouldn't, don't wanna over indulge the fans, eh?"

Will managed to say, feeling like his heart had broken his ribcage then dropped into his stomach as he stared at her. He managed a smile and a small chuckle as he ignored how sweaty his palms felt.

Y/n on the other hand, was freaking out. Her stomach twisting and doing flips as she tried to fight the growing warmth on her cheeks as she stared at him.

"I wouldn't mind a real date.. If you were serious."

She said as she stared at him, ignoring the lump in her throat as she bites the inside of her cheek, staring at him hopefully as she hopes he was serious, and not just messing with her.

He nearly died. He was absolutely giddy with excitement as she confirmed she'd go on a real date with him. Shit. She wants to go on a date with him. His stomach does flips as he stares at her and smiles widely.

"Obviously I'd take you on a real date, y/n. But we definitely shouldn't over indulge the fans, they might all explode, the morons.."

He said as he got closer to her, seeming like he wanted to touch her somehow, but didn't want to overstep.

She stared at him as she smiled, her cheeks flushing a light red as she looked at him and stood right in front of him and glanced at his lips.

"I'll go on the date if I get a kiss. Gotta know that you're serious, y'know?"

She said as she shrugged and stared up at him expectantly, grinning slightly.

He smiled but froze, staring at her for a second. He sneakily wiped his hands on his pants, de-sweaty-ing his hands before he gently cupped her cheeks.

He hesitantly leaned in, pressing a soft and gentle kiss to her lips she could pull away from anytime. But he hoped she wouldn't and that she was serious.

And boy was she serious. She gently put her hands on his jaw, kissing him back as she smiled.

Eventually they both pulled away, staring at eachother and smiling like idiots, which they were idiots for not getting together sooner.

"So, where we goin for that date Lovely?"

"Hm, I dunno.. Surprise me, but not somewhere super fancy, somewhere simple."

He smiled, nodding as he heard her request for a simple date. He stared at her for a moment before kissing her again, to which she happily kissed him back, hugging him tightly.

BONUS!!!!

It has been months since they'd been dating, and finally decided to tell the fans. Using y/ns original idea of a fake date, but it just being a real date that will could write off as a business expense. Which got millions of views, and loads of comments.

"OMFG ARE THEY ACTUALLY OFFICIAL??"

"HOLY SHIT HE BAGGED HER FINALLY"

"Omg they're so cute together I can't-"

"lil bro actually rizzed her up"

Despite it being an even split between doubtful comments and comments being overly excited they got together, they eventually decided to confirm it to the fans a few weeks later..

To which so many of them freaked out, in a happy way. Tweets, posts, comments, and all of the above from fans freaking out over their favorite ship finally being confirmed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bro this was so silly goofy to write, i love it smsm.

BUT PEOPLE FROM OTHER FANDOMS PLSPLS GIVE ME REQUESTS, I LOVE DOING WILLNE BUT I NEED MORE IDEAS FOR THE OTHER THINGS I LIKE PLSPLSPLS

also to the anon or multiple that keep requesting willne, i will continue to feed u trust 🙏 love u

[fraugwinska]

Giveaway 2nd Prize Winner Piece

Hello my loves! Our darling @lil-glum, who won myy 2nd prize in the 1k Follower giveaway, has graciously allowed me to share the finished piece with you all! It was a delight to work with her - and her ideas were so good that writing this felt less like work and all the more like a treat! <3 So much so that I, in fact, went a bit overboard with the word count! ;> As usual: Minors DNI or I'll curse you to always have moist socks!

Paint the Town Red

For weeks now, Alastor had stalked out that little human like a vulture, circling high above the oblivious prey and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Revisiting the living world should've been a glorious occasion, since summonings were becoming so rare nowadays, but that moron who dared to call on him hadn't been worth his while - but she was.

Luck and curse had it that he didn't have to return to hell right after the laughably one-sided deal was striked, leaving him time enough to put a little glamor on to stroll around town in his earthly disguise, freshly brewed coffee in hand, and see what humanity had been up to since his demise. The world had become frivolous, no class at all, and Alastor had felt at ease knowing that he had lived at the peak of culture and manners, never to be bettered.

And then she ran into him. Deeply immersed in a book - not those audacious electronic devices people put their nose in every waking hour - she'd rounded the corner while Alastor gawked around, lost to the world captured on the yellowed pages. A head full of red, silky locks had bumped into his chest and the book as well as his coffee dropped, the former to be saved by his quick reflexes. A simple flick of his wrist, and the book was back in her hand, while his cup of java laid spilled in a muddy puddle between their feet.

"Oh! Oh no - I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention!" she'd said, pushing her glasses back her nose as she smiled up to him apologetically, and when Alastor met her eyes, something shifted. And just like that, the hunt was on.

"No harm done, darling. The coffee was poorly done anyway."

Since time was running out, he turned up his charm to at least get the girl's name and maybe another meeting out of the encounter, already planning on ways to return. Thankfully, she'd given it all too gladly, and promised to invite him for coffee as an apology for the spilled one. He'd taken the sound of her name into his hands like the greatest treasure, repeating it over and over in his mind as he was being dragged back to the afterlife tasting each vowel and consonant. Hunting down an indebted incubus and acquiring its asmodean crystal had been as easy as working out how to use it. And oh - did he use it.

His absence from his duties in the hotel became more and more obvious, but Alastor couldn't stop himself. It wasn't even the thrill of the chase that kept him going. Every time he saw her, it was as if her mere presence called out to an unknown part of him, as if her voice was a siren's call, as if her scent was a drug created just for him. He couldn't stop himself from thinking about her: The delightful way she laughed at his quips. The elegant way she spoke about her interests. The way she brushed her fiery hair back over her shoulder when she was nervous…

Alastor wanted it all, and he wanted her.

"Alastor, are you listening at all?" she smiled at him, pulling him out of his raging thoughts.

"My apologies, dear, I was merely...distracted. Please do repeat yourself." he cleared his throat and gave her a wide grin. The abandoned park they walked in was tinted in oranges, greens and browns, little specks of autumn's palette so becoming to her complexion.

"I was saying that I don't really feel like going back home yet. How about we take a detour - explore a little?" she proposed, pointing down to a small trail that led away from the main road, lined with trees and shrubbery, "There's supposed to be a pond around there, and I think it would be nice to enjoy your company a little longer."

Alastors ears perked up and his smile widened, threatening to mirror the one he always wore down in hell. She wanted to be alone with him, far away from prying eyes - that wonderful, naive thing.

"That sounds delightful, my dearest - lead the way!"

His mind was running wild with possibilities as he followed her down the path, watching her red locks bounce as she hopped down the sloping ground. How much she trusted him was as endearing as it was thrilling, and the urge to reach out and take her by the arm to pull her into his own grew with every step he took, the demon in him aching for a taste of her. He wasn't one to rush good things, and he wanted to enjoy this, make it last as long as he could, savor every moment of the inevitable fall.

She was chattering away happily, unaware of the obsessive way he watched her. Her hips swayed hypnotically, the hem of her wool skirt grazing her thighs ever so slightly, and Alastor wondered if the flush of her cheeks from the cool autumn air would be found elsewhere on her delectable body, too. He knew he had to control himself, but with his desire burning hot like the flames of his true home, Alastor struggled.

Finally, they reached the small pond and she turned around to him, beaming with accomplishment. The sight of it, of her prideful smile and trusting eyes so enthrallingly focused on him was too much, and whatever she was about to say was swallowed by his lips crashing into hers. His gloved hands held her face firmly as he pushed her against a tree, the bark scratching into the back of her coat. He had wanted this for so long, the feeling of her soft lips moving against his, her hands clawing at his shoulders, indecisive on whether to pull him closer or push him away. She gasped into the kiss and Alastor took the chance to push his tongue inside, swallowing her moan as apparently made up her mind, tugging at his coat as he finally devoured her.

It was entirely, decidedly too much: The warmth of her, the taste, the touches, the sounds, he couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get close enough. With ferocity, he got rid of every offending layer of obstructive clothing, reveling in the way she breathed his name, pleading to the deity that couldn't care for mercy and to him to ruin her. And he gladly granted her wish, benevolent as he was, his lips trailing down her neck, teeth nipping at her collarbone, tongue laving over her exposed breasts as his hands stroked up her legs, fingers disappearing under her skirt to brush against her core.

"Please, Alastor - oh!" she whimpered when he pushed a finger inside her wet cunt, the tight heat making him growl in approval. He wanted her to beg, he wanted her to cry, wanted her to break down before him and ask him for salvation. His glamor flickered, struggling to hold against the loss of control.

"Look at you, my dear, so eager, so wanting," he crooned as he pushed another finger inside her, watching her back arch from the tree, her body seeking out his hands like a magnetic pull. Brown hair slowly turned red, antlers sprouting from its crown, his modest gray coat faded into his signature crimson pinstriped frock, and she gasped into his hungry mouth as he let the grip on his magic go and revealed himself completely as the demonic overlord that he was. Alastor, the Radio Demon, laughed, licking along her jaw as he slowly increased the pace of his claws, earning another sweet sound of shocked pleasure from his little, confused human.

“Don’t let my true form deceive you, my darling - No matter what happens… I’ll make sure you see heaven.”

[stevie-petey]

first of all: the new chapter was AMAZING as always!! i know you are probably so so so busy with move in and classes starting and writing come home already, but i had a blurb idea (and it will obviously ALWAYS be dustin and steve interaction) of steve hanging out with dustin alone sometime soon after you get together, and them talking about it for the first time? it doesn't have to be any particular way i'm just SO curious what dustin's reaction was beyond the knee-jerk "ew you kissed my sister but also thank god because it took you long enough you moron"

stebe n dust <333

enjoy !

“you sure youre okay with driving dustin to mikes?”

steve rolls his eyes fondly at you. “yes, angel. its not even a ten minute drive. i can handle the kid.”

“i know. its just,” you bite your lip, unsure of how to voice what youre thinking. your brows scrunch together and steve thinks youre painfully adorable when youre overthinking. “its too hot for him to bike there, but you and i just started dating and dustin is… well. hes dustin.”

“you worried he’ll lecture me or something?”

“more like ask really invasive questions.”

steve laughs and kisses your hand, body leaning over the counter at your work. hes spent the entire days at bookstrordinary just to talk to you since scoops burned down. when he isnt job searching with robin, hes here with you.

“have some faith in me, y/n. im a big boy, i can take care of myself.”

you blink at him. “you cried yesterday when a lizard ran across your leg.”

“okay, thats entirely different. that thing looked at me with its beady little eyes and dared me to fight him.” steve shudders. “that thing was sentient.”

“youre really not making me feel any better about this, honey.” you groan, already dreading whatever your brother will say to him. youre sure dustin will somehow give the most bizarre, overly obnoxious yet endearing lecture known to man.

steve rolls his eyes again and grabs his keys, reluctantly pulling away from you. “i bet the kid forgot we’re even together now. relax, i’ll be back in no time.”

you call one last good luck to him before hes hone, leaving you alone in the store as the late july heat simmers the air.

at first everything is great. dustin is waiting for steve in the driveway and hops inside the car without any complaints. he turns the radio one and even smiles at steve.

but then, as dustin always does, he opens his mouth.

“i better not catch you sucking face with my sister.”

“dustin!” steve blanches, utterly mortified by what the boy has said. he almost veers off the road with how violently he cringes.

“im just saying! you two are weirdly touchy, and now that youre together, which by the way took you way too long to even do,” dustin looks pointedly at steve, who sighs. “i dont want you getting any gross ideas.”

the older teen rubs his face tiredly. he lasted three minutes. three blissful, quiet minutes. “good to know youre happy for us, then.”

dustin thinks for a moment. “well, i guess y/n could do worse. better than jonathan, at least.”

“thanks, dustin.” steve deflates, not at all believing the kid.

dustin recognizes the apprehension and he uncomfortably shifts in his head. he doesnt necessarily want to be all touchy-feely with the guy, but he also recognizes how much you love him. how good you and steve are together.

coughing, dustin looks out the window. he knows this is what youd want. “im happy she found you, steve.”

by now the wheelers driveway can be seen, but because steve is so startled by what dustin has confessed, he almost misses the turn.

clearing his own throat awkwardly, steve parks the car and looks at dustin. “you, uh. really mean that?”

“please dont make this any more unbearable.” the kid quips, leaning as far away from him as possible.

“right,” steve clears his throat again and unlocks the passenger door. he tugs at his seatbelt, needing something to do with his hands. “off you go, then.”

dustin quickly unbuckles his seatbelt and nearly falls out of the car in his hurry to leave. hes standing and about to walk away before he stops, turning around. leaving over the window, dustin lowers his voice. “hey, one last thing.”

steves voice catches in his throat, scared of where this is going. “yeah?”

ducking his head down, too shy to meet the other boys gaze, dustin finally says, “dont hurt y/n, alright? she-she really loves you. i know you love her, too. but shes… shes the best person in the world and im trusting you to be kind to her.”

“i…” steve stares at dustin, surprised by the sincerity in his voice and yet incredibly touched that hes being so vulnerable with him. to have your brother trust steve enough to be with you, to trust he wont hurt someone as selfless and soft as you, it means more to steve than dustin will ever know.

after years of being cruel to his classmates and growing up believing he wasnt worthy of anything gentle, steve cant believe hes being entrusted with you in his life.

it doesnt feel real, sometimes. being able to love you.

“i promise i’ll be kind to y/n,” steve says softly, meeting dustins eyes. its weird, being so delicate with the kid, but hes shared a lot with him, so its only fair steve does the same. “its because of her that im kind.”

“me, too.” dustin whispers. his eyes gleam, his mischievous smile is back. “guess we learned from the best, huh?”

steve laughs. “yeah, i guess we did.”

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[meepwrites]

The marauders being idiots part 2.

Or, the marauders and that time they opened the chamber of secrets.

Because I am afraid that I am convinced there is like a good 70% chance that they did manage to get it open and I have funny thoughts about the what ifs :

They absolutely learnt abt the serpentine tap from Regulus - when they officially set off to build the marauders map Sirius was BIG on uncovering every and any secret, they chased after several false rumours in the hope that they missed nothing.

they were going to be THE coolest.

So of course Regulus eventually got asked if he’s heard or seen anything that could hold mysteries,

after a minute of sheer deadpan silence he eventually answered with the third floor girls bathroom that he remembers back from when he’d still used it, he told them all about the embezzled tap and the slytherin rumours surrounding it, followed with an ominous

“Nobody dares open it, but girls giggle over it nonetheless.”

If there is any reason they got it open it was for 2 reasons :

1) Sirius’s sheer fucking stubbornness

2) Him remembering that Regulus had told him once that if (This idea is stolen from a pinterest post bcs I loved it) Slytherins ever forgot the password to their common room, they could, if they dared, attempt to hiss parseltongue at the door, it always answered to parseltongue.

Regulus with his rather good sense of languages had been one of the few who mastered the intenation of the hissing and though it sounded terrifying and dumb he had attempted to teach it to Sirius ‘Incase of an emergency.’

Sirius eventually after 5 nights had an epiphany staring at the tap and started attempting hissings and snarls because “Look, if that isn’t Slytherin Salazars mark I don’t know what is ! it looks like a terrible quivering little snake and the rumours say-“ “But those are rumours pads-“ “and if they are true then-“ “Ay ay don’t worry Pete, and James come on it’s worth a try !”

Eventually the chamber opened and they were all stunned,

James basically immediately jumped up and towards it. Excited finally for his days of boredom were at last gone and called after pads to join him who was basically jumping up and down in excitement.

Remus nonchalant and a little horrified albeit curious, fiddled his prefect badge between his thumb and his index finger and told them matter of fact that he will stay to keep watch, he didn’t reply to Sirius’s ‘We’re the only ones out of bed !’

Peter, terrified little Peter chose to stay with Remus despite Sirius pushing for him to come and not be a worry stick like ‘that one over there.’, he simply backed behind Remus who was still reading a book albeit glancing towards the opening every now and then and said “No no no, you and James can go but I am not keen on jumping into holes we know nothing about or how deep it even goes !” Pads scoffed at him, made a she said joke and muttered ‘You’d think his rat instincts would be keen to go through tunnels’ remus wittily answered, and made peter laugh, with ‘Well maybe that’s why you’re so keen to go down them, pads dogs dig tunnels and all.”

Anyway it didn’t take long for mayhem to break down below their feet and for echoes of James’s and Sirius’s voice to come up at Peter and Remus who immediately jumped on the alert.

Sirius and James went clambering up and out of the hole as quick as they could shouting things like

“STUN IT STUN IT.”

and

“CLOSE IT CLOSE IT.”

“DON’T ASK HIM TO CLOSE IT BEFORE YOU’RE OUT.”

“YOUR EYES ARE WHAT YOU SHOULD BE CLOSING YOU MORON.”

“WE STILL NEED TO CLOSE THE HOLE.”

“GO-“

Remus stood there in panic wondering if he was going to have to attempt to say ‘close’ in parseltongue or if the entrance would seal itself or if it was worth booking it to the slytherin dungeons in hopes that Regulus knew how to say close in parseltongue and that he could even make it there and back in time.

Eventually Sirius and James made it out and Remus waved his wand, the sink returned to its original placement in a jiffy and Remus and Peter looked confused upon panting, pale and sweating friends who exclaimed different iterations of

“HOLY BASILISK-“

“PETER’S INSTINCTD WERE RIGHT.”

“We almost died-“

Sirius eventually stopped heaving with his hands against his knees and piped up wiping his fringe from his sweaty forehead

“Do we solemnly swear (yes this is their slogan) not to fucking tell anyone.”

he looked at James for agreement who immediately raised his hand, ‘Ay Ay.’

So anyway.

the only reason nobody knew that the chamber was opened and promptly closed one night in the 1970’s was because the two who went down it absolutely agreed that if they told any teacher that they nearly died because they were snooping around the consequences would be worse than the fact that they nearly died.

Solemnly swore not to fucking breath a word to anyone but Regulus.

Regulus gets the story and he’s glaring at Sirius like “That is NOT why I was teaching you Parseltongue ! That is quite frankly the exact opposite.”

This also means that in the future when Harry recounts his adventures with the chamber and the Basilisk, Sirius exclaims :

“YOU FACED THAT BLOODY THING !?”

and Harry, a little impassive goes

“It was just a Basilisk-“

and Sirius horror struck is like

“Just a- REMUS ARE YOU HEARING THIS ! HAH, just a Basilisk NOT EVEN YOU DARED TO FACE A BASILISK.”

and Remus amused is like

“I would have been mad if I had !”

and Sirius is like

“WELL HE WAS MAD, he killed the bloody thing !”

[livesincerely]

[bits & bobs] common knowledge

aka the ‘Jack didn’t know they were dating’ fic

00000

One of the last things that gets packed⁠—right up there with the wifi router, the stuff for the bathroom, and Jack’s good pillow⁠—is the calendar. Davey carefully peels it from its place of honor on the front of the fridge, almost the whole of April carefully x-ed out.

“The 29th is on Friday,” he notes as he tucks it carefully away, smiling softly. “We should try and do something.”

“Dave, we are up to our ears in fuckin’ boxes,” Jack complains from his spot on the floor, a roll of tape sitting on his chest as he attempts to become one with the carpet. “We ain’t gonna get our deposit back if we ain’t outta here before the first.”

“You were out of town on a contract last year and the year before that we both had the flu,” Davey complains. “It’d be nice if we could actually do something to celebrate this year.”

It’s at this point that Jack realizes he has no idea what the fuck Davey’s talking about.

“Dave,” he says. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“The 29th,” Davey says, like that alone should be enough of an explanation.

“What’s so special about the 29th?” Jack asks.

Davey frowns⁠. And not just his Jack, you dumbass frown, but the full-blown, pinched-mouth, brow-furrowed, Jack, this isn’t funny, stop it frown that makes makes Jack’s soul want to shrivel up and die whenever it’s pointed his way.

So, Jack pivots. Hard.

“I’m kiddin’,” he lies quickly, alarm bells blaring behind his eyes. What the fuck is on the 29th? “‘Course we can do somethin’. What about dinner at that Italian place we saw on the corner? It looked like a nice joint.”

Davey’s expression clears.

“God, I would kill for some tiramasu,” he says with a wistful sigh.

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Jack laughs, more relief than anything. “I’ll call in the mornin’, see if they take reservations.”

“Perfect,” Davey says, with a beaming smile that makes Jack’s heart lurch for entirely different reasons. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” Jack says weakly. “It’s a date.”

00000

Jack panics.

Well, first he calls the restaurant and makes a reservation for two at 7pm.

But then, he panics.

He calls Katherine first, which turns out to be less than useless.

“Can you please stop cackling for three seconds and fucking help me?” Jack demands into the speaker, tugging at his hair in frustration.

But Kath just laughs and laughs until Jack hangs up on her in a huff. After about ten minutes, he calls her back—she’s still laughing.

He tries Tony next.

“You’re such a fucking moron,” Tony says, after sitting in dead silence for so long that Jack pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “I genuinely don’t understand how Davey’s put up with you for so long. I should send him a medal. Or maybe a fruit basket.”

“Quit with the wise cracks and help me,” Jack demands. “Davey’s, like, super fucking excited about this dinner an’ if I don’t figure out what the hell we’re supposed’ta be celebrating, he’s gonna kick me out before we even get moved in.”

“More like he’s gonna dump your dumbass and find someone who can actually remember an anniversary,” Tony snarks.

“He ain’t gonna— I’ve told you a thousand times, we ain’t like that,” Jack says, louder than he means to, flushed and flustered.

There’s another long, judgmental silence.

“Please seek professional help,” Tony says, flatly incredulous. “You are so beyond me, you’re orbiting fucking Saturn, Jackaboy—“

Jack hangs up on him too.

00000

“Are you upset?” Jack asks tentatively.

“I’m still deciding,” Davey says in a thin, even tone that really doesn’t bode well.

….

“Jack,” Davey murmurs, close enough that he can feel the whisper of his breath against his cheeks. “Apparently you haven’t noticed, but we’ve been dating for years. Tomorrow is our three-year anniversary.”

Jack, who had been swaying towards the warmth of Davey’s body, towards the promise of a kiss, freezes dead in his tracks. “What?”

But Davey just smiles. “Three years,” he repeats calmly.

“No, no, I heard you the first time, I jus’…” Jack shakes his head, hard, as if that with somehow make any of what’s happening make any kind of sense. “What?”

“When’s the last time you had sex with anyone but me?” Davey prompts—impossibly patient, all things considered. “Or went out on a date? Gave someone your number?”

“Not in fuckin’ ages,” Jack sputters, offended at the very thought. “You an’ me, we’ve got a good thing goin’. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t cheat on me?” Davey specifies, tilting his head.

“Course not!”

“Why would it be cheating if we aren’t together?” Davey asks, pointedly.

Jack stares at him, trying to find the riddle hidden in Davey’s question. Because… Because…

“Oh,” he says blankly.

Davey laughs, curling his hands around Jack’s waist. “Oh,” he agrees.

“Three years?” Jack asks weakly.

“Jackie,” Davey sighs, apparently realizing that Jack needs this spelled out to him. “We live together. We share a bedroom. We spent last Christmas at your mom’s house and you introduced me to Charlie’s kids as ‘Uncle David’.”

“Oh,” Jack says again, because it really bears repeating. “How the hell have you managed to put up with my dumbass for three fucking years?”

“It probably helps that I’m madly in love with you,” Davey says, rolling his eyes even as another soft smile curls over his lips.

“Huh,” Jack says. It’s maybe not the best response, but it’s honestly a miracle he manages to say anything at all.

“You’re in love with me too,” Davey helpfully informs him.

“Well, I knew that part,” Jack huffs. Then, “How did you know that?”

“Because I know you,” Davey says, lacing their fingers together. “But feel free to say it aloud any time you like.”

“I love you,” Jack murmurs.

Davey’s smile is like the first days of spring: bright like sunshine, full of promise and full of hope.

And the taste of his kiss is even better.

[moanologue]

Say It Again

Chapter 7 - Wounded Detective

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Rating: Mature

Category: M/M

Fandom: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)

Relationship: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

It’s been three days since Steve looked at me like I’m something he wants to hold onto, like I’m more than just the guy who’s got his back in a firefight. Three days since his eyes caught mine, heavy with that unspoken weight that makes my pulse trip over itself such as a rookie on his first chase. And yeah, I know why. I know exactly why. Because I’m the idiot who told him to back off. To stop touching me. To give me space. Three days ago, in a moment of stupid, sleep-deprived panic, I said, “Steve, just… don’t, okay? Not right now.” And now I’m sitting in my car and choking on the silence I asked for.

Engine off. Hands still gripping the wheel like I’m waiting for a green light that’s never gonna come. The precinct’s behind me, but I can’t bring myself to go home just yet. Not to that apartment that feels too big and too quiet without his voice bouncing off the walls, without him raiding my fridge and pretending he’s “saving me from expired condiments.”

I’m parked in front of that little diner near Ala Moana, the one with the terrible fries but decent pie. I haven’t gone in. I just… sat here. Watching couples drift by on the sidewalk, brushing shoulders, laughing like it’s easy. Like it’s not terrifying to want someone and screw it up before you even figure out how to want them right.

I check my phone. No texts. No missed calls. Just a lockscreen photo of Gracie, smiling at the beach, and it twists something in my chest because I know she’d tell me to stop being an idiot and talk to him. “Dad,” she’d say, rolling her eyes, “you’re overthinking it. Just say sorry.” Kids, man. They make it sound so easy.

Three days of Commander McGarrett, all sharp angles and cold precision. He’s a walking blueprint now: straight lines, measured tone, radiating clipboard energy that makes me want to punch a wall. No post-case pat on the shoulder. No quick elbow bump when he’s too tired to talk. No low, rough Danno. Just: “Good work, Detective.”

Detective.

Go to hell, McGarrett. Except I can’t even say that out loud, because this is my fault. I’m the one who drew the line, and now I’m tripping over it.

I’m not spiraling. I’m not. I’m Danny Williams, survivor of cartel shootouts, bomb defusals, and Steve’s godawful kale smoothie phase that nearly ended our partnership. But this morning, when I walked into the office and saw my desk, empty of the usual coffee cup with its smudged lid and faint scent of Kona roast, I froze. Stood there like a moron for a full thirty seconds, staring at the empty wood. No coffee. No Steve storming in with his smug grin and cold brew, acting like caffeine can fix murder, mayhem, and the emotional repression we’ve both turned into a goddamn art form.

That’s our thing. Even when we’re screaming at each other, over his reckless cliff-jumping or my “mainland attitude,” as he calls it, he still shows up at my house, all broad shoulders and bad ideas, plunking that coffee on my counter. “You look like you need this more than I do, Danno,” he’ll say, that stupid smirk tugging at his mouth. Except today? Nothing. Just: “Williams, take the marina. I’ll cover the bar.”

Not we. Not you and me, let’s do this. Just a file shoved into my hands, his boots clicking away on the precinct floor like I’m Lou or Chin or some random HPD grunt. Like I’m not the guy who’s been at his side through blood, bullets, and his absurd insistence that protein shakes are a personality trait.

And when we talk, it’s all surface. Tactical. Sterile.

“You check the logs?”

“Run the plates again.”

“Keep me updated.”

No glint in his eye. No half-smirk. No invisible leash pulling us back to the rhythm we’ve built, the one where I rant, he teases, and we somehow make it through another day without killing each other or admitting… whatever it is we don’t admit. And I hate it. I hate how it makes my chest feel tight. And I hate that I did this. I told him to stop. I pushed him away because I was scared of what those touches meant, scared of how much I liked them, scared of what happens if we cross that line and it all goes to hell. And now I'm pissed. At him. At me. Mostly me.

I could’ve just said, “Hey, this is a lot. Can we slow down?” But no. I had to go full shutdown.

Hours drag by, the weight of the day clinging to me like humidity, and by the time I leave the precinct, the sun’s long gone, leaving only the heavy stillness of a Hawaiian night.

I get home late, the kind of late where the island feels too quiet. My apartment smells like salt air and regret, the ceiling fan clicking lazily overhead, mocking me with its steady rhythm. Sleep’s a lost cause, so I give up on the idea of rest and let the day’s mess follow me into the bathroom, where the mirror reflects a guy who looks as wrecked as he feels.

I shower, standing under the spray until the water turns cold, trying to scrub off this feeling, this thing, sitting under my skin. It doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t. I can’t wash away the memory of my own voice, saying, “Steve, just don’t.” I can’t unsee the way his face shifted in surprise, then something else, that looked like it hurt, before he nodded and walked away. I step out of the bathroom, steam curling around me, and catch my reflection in the hallway mirror. I look tired, older, like the last three days have carved lines into my face I didn’t notice before. My hair’s a mess, still damp, sticking up in that way Steve used to tease me about, saying I look like a “disgruntled hedgehog.” I’d flip him off, he’d laugh, and we’d move on. Now, I just stare at myself, wondering when I started looking like someone who pushes away the best thing in his life.

I walk past my closet, towel slung low on my hips, and there it is: that stupid blue shirt. The one he likes. The one he mentioned exactly once, last week in that offhand way of his “Looks good, Danny. You should wear it more.” It’s too tight, too flashy, too not me, but I stop anyway. Stare at it, the fabric catching the dim hallway light, and for a second, I think about putting it on. Like it might fix this. Like it might bring back the Steve who looks at me like I’m more than just a partner. Like it might undo the moment I pushed him away and broke whatever us we were building.

I don’t put it on. Instead, I grab a faded T-shirt and jeans, the kind of clothes that don’t make me feel like I’m trying too hard. But as I pull them on, I’m thinking about the little things I didn’t realize I’d miss so much. The way Steve always tosses his keys on my kitchen counter when he comes over, the jangle of metal a weirdly comforting sound. Or how he’ll steal a bite of my malasada when I’m not looking, then act innocent when I call him out, sugar dusting his chin like he’s a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Or that time we were stuck on a stakeout, rain hammering the car, and he turned up the radio, humming along to some godawful ‘80s rock ballad, grinning when I groaned. “What, Danno? This is a classic.” Those moments, the ones that felt so small, so normal, they’re gone now.

And that’s when it hits me, like a slug to the chest: I miss him. Not just him, but us. The rhythm we’ve carved out over years of chaos - the banter, the noise, the gravity that keeps us orbiting each other no matter how hard I try to pull away. The way he’ll roll his eyes when I complain about his driving but still ease off the gas just a fraction. The way he’ll stand too close when we’re pouring over case files, his arm brushing mine like it’s an accident, even though we both know it’s not. I miss it so much it feels like a physical ache. And I’m the one who killed it. I’m the one who said stop, because I was too damn scared to find out what happens next.

Now he’s quiet. When Steve goes quiet, it means he’s thinking. Overthinking. Building walls or tearing them down, and I’m left wondering which it is. Wondering if I broke something that can’t be fixed. Wondering if I imagined it all: those glances, those touches, the way his voice softens when it’s just us. Or maybe I didn’t imagine it, and that’s worse. Because maybe this silence is him respecting my boundaries. Maybe it’s him giving me what I asked for. Maybe it’s him saying “okay, Danny, you win” and it feels like losing.

Tomorrow, I’ll see him again. I’ll walk into the office, force a grin, and make some dumb joke about his tactical vest or the ketchup he always gets on his shirt. I’ll toss a file at his chest, watch it bounce off those stupidly perfect pecs, and wait for that smirk, the one that says he’s still in this, still with me. Maybe he’ll laugh. Maybe he’ll call me Danno. Maybe he’ll look at me like I’m more than just Detective Williams, and I’ll find the courage to say, “Hey, about the other day… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll stay cold, stay distant, and I’ll have to live with the fact that I pushed away the one person who makes this whole damn island feel like home. And maybe that’s the part that’s starting to unravel me, thread by thread, until I’m not sure what’s left.

I pace my apartment for a bit, open the fridge, close it again. Not hungry. Not anything. The clock ticks past midnight like it’s proud of how long this day managed to be.

And now I’m on my balcony, barefoot, the railing cool under my palms as I lean forward and watch the city twinkle like it’s got no idea I’m falling apart.

There’s music playing from someone’s open window, distant and warped. Some slow love song that feels too on the nose, but I don’t have the energy to be annoyed.

The air smells like ocean and grilled meat. Someone’s having a better night than me.

I close my eyes and try to picture his voice. Not the clipped, professional one from today. The real one. The one that wraps around Danno like it’s his favorite word.

God, I miss that voice. I miss him.

And I don’t know if I’m ready to say anything.

But I’m ready to want to say something.

Does that count for anything?

[discendia]

Momo????

Self

Care

Mentor

Partner

Meet Strange

Sorry because I KNOW how hard it is, BUT you are going to know her more!!

Sorry for taking so long to answer this, Nago! You know my brain is wired to a different fandom now and I struggled to connect it to this one.

《 OC asks: relationships edition 》

────── 〔☘〕──────

Momo

Self: How is your OC's relationship with themself? Does your OC like who they are? Is there anything about themself that they would change?

She thinks kind of lowly of herself, due to the continuous comments from her father. "She's plain, she's useless, she's cost me a bet with that moron Shikaku", and so on. Hearing this had its effect on her self-perception but didn't keep her from being happy with her life.

There are times when she thinks that if she were to change something about herself, she would like to be able to grow plants using the family jutsu.

Care: How does your OC engage in self-care, if at all? If they don't, why not?

Napping counts as self-care!!! Or so did Shikamaru say once (it was another excuse).

Mentor: Does your OC have a mentor? Have they ever reached out to anyone for guidance or teaching, or been taken under someone's wing? How does your OC get along with their mentor?

The girl who can't do a single jutsu having a mentor? Allow me to laugh. No. Her father and other members of the clan taught her how to tend to the fields, but she wasn't even allowed to go to school with the rest of the kids.

Partner: Does your OC currently have a partner? Multiple partners? How did they meet, and what is that relationship like?

The partner changes depending on the verse or au but usually her relationships are filled with pure love and mutual trust. Momo does everything in her hand to support her partner and adores them with all her heart. 💕

Meet Strange: What's the most memorable way your OC has ever met a new person? Was it a good experience? Bad experience? Just plain weird? How's their relationship with that person now?

Without a doubt, Sai was one of her weirdest meetings. For some reason she didn't understand, he was obsessed with the idea that she was some kind of sleeper agent and that her inability to be a ninja and naive personality were only a facade, which led to weird approaches, interrogations, and trap after trap after trap.

Nowadays, he has discarded those thoughts and sees her just as a normal civilian, and she sees him as another friend, just like the rest.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Is It Really That Bad?

Women leading superhero films has a long and troubled history even before losers online decided to make it their life’s mission to bully Academy Award-winning actress Brie Larson for the crime of being in a mediocre MCU movie. 2004’s Catwoman is the film that is usually pointed to as the movie that poisoned the well in regards to superheroine blockbusters, but it takes two to tango; the following year’s Elektra is just as much to blame for the negative perception of these sorts of films.

And how could it not be? It was rushed into production, Jennifer Garner really didn’t want to do it but was contractually obligated, it was supposed to be rated R until more contractual obligations nipped that idea in the bud, and on top of everything else it was a sequel/spin-off to a movie that was already extremely unpopular (Daredevil vindication was a long way’s off at that point). With all that in mind, is it any wonder that it’s one of the lowest grossing films to ever be based off of a Marvel comic? The only films that did worse were Punisher: War Zone, Man-Thing, and The New Mutants. Even the Howard the Duck movie did better than this shit!

The career of director Rob Bowman as tanked because of this film, with his credits being relegated to TV. Garner, meanwhile, fared just as poorly, with her career cooling off and leading roles not being a thing for her after that point. But worst of all is the career of the poor boat house in this movie, as it ended up appearing in Fifty Shades of Grey. And obviously this film dragged down the idea of a woman headlining a superhero flick for about a decade until Genocide Barbie Gal Gadot stepped into Wonder Woman’s boots. And while Catwoman would receive better adaptations on the big screen, Elektra would get no such chance…

...Until it was revealed that Garner was reprising her role in, of all things, Deadpool & Wolverine.

While the film isn’t out as of the time of this review, the announcement of her presence in it really got me intrigued about the last time she donned the red ninja outfit. I’m a huge apologist for early to mid-2000s superhero garbage, so it only made sense to check it out in preparation for the massive Marvel crossover Deadpool was about to deliver. And you know what question I always ask when going in to an infamous film like this: Is it really that bad?

THE GOOD

This film is just hilariously corny when it wants to be. I think when it does stupid stuff other superhero films of the time did, it tends to do them at least a little better. For instance, like Ghost Rider it has a quirky miniboss squad full of boring flat characters who exist for Elektra to kill. But while the ones in Ghost Rider are completely forgettable and bland, this film at least has some striking visuals with Tattoo and hot forceful lesbian murder smooching with Typhoid Mary, something I’m sure awoke things in the five people who watched this.

Garner herself is really, really trying, and to her credit most of the action scenes she’s in are pretty ok when they aren’t being edited to death. As I watched the unrated version, the brief glimpses of insight into her backstory are nice, and I do love that bright red costume on her. If nothing else, she does sell how cool Elektra is supposed to be with how she carries herself, even if the writing isn’t doing her many favors.

The final act is where things really get fun, because we have a big stupid battle against magical tattoos, teleporting ninjas, and genuinely the funniest possible way to kill a villain ever. I legitimately burst out laughing when I saw this:

THE BAD

Unfortunately, no matter how funny Typhoid Mary taking a knife to the forehead after saying her only two lines in the movie, two lines that actually give her more character than every other villain in the film, it can’t really completely save the film from its two massive, crippling issues.

Literally everyone in this movie is a fucking moron. The biggest moron is easily Elektra’s buddy, who sacrifices himself so Elektra can escape from the bad guys… but his sacrifice is pointless because they pull the info from his mind with psyhcic powers. He would’ve been better off running away with them! But it’s not like the villains are much smarter; one of them chops down a tree, and then almost immediately forgets this and walks into its path before getting crushed to death. It is genuinely absurd how dumb these characters manage to get. The dumbest of them all, however, has to be Stick. I genuinely have no idea what the fuck this man is trying to accomplish at any point, because he is recklessly gambling with people’s lives here.

But hey, dumb decisions are fine in a trashy 2000s superhero movie as long as they lead to some enjoyably dumb scenarios, right? Well, about that… Barring a couple of ridiculously goofy action scenes, this film is pretty bereft of memorable corniness. Remember how I said the minibosses in Ghost Rider were not as good as the ones here? Sure, maybe it’s true, but no amount of murderous lesbian smooching makes this movie more memorable than Ghost Rider, which features over a dozen insane Nicolas Cage moments. But maybe that’s cheating, it’s not fair to compare a Jennifer Garner vehicle to a Nicolas Cage one… so how about Catwoman? As absolutely shoddy as that movie is, there are a bunch of cringey, campy scenes that have helped earn the movie at least a handful of ironic fans. There’s just nothing like that in Elektra. It’s trashy and stupid in safe, unimpressive ways for the most part, and it doesn’t do anything at all to really stand out from the crowd.

IS IT REALLY THAT BAD?

Yeah, I guess it’s bad, but the level of bad that it is is greatly exaggerated.

The movie I’d most compare this to is, of all things, Morbius. I love Morbius more than most people, and even I’m willing to admit it’s multiple bright spots of trashy charm are interspersed with the dullest shit imaginable, and Elektra has a similar issue. It’s just so goddamn unmemorable and dull for the most part, with only the final act being packed full of silly nonsense to latch onto. But even that comparison isn’t great, because Milo was sprinkled throughout Morbius and was genuinely hilarious the whole way through, while Elektra just plods along until it remembers to actually be a little cool for the finale.

I guess really the film is less “bad” and more “not good.” Like if you throw this on in the background as noise while you do something else, it’s not the worst you could do, though even then something like Black Adam would probably be better. If you want to watch a trashy 2000s superhero film, I guess it’s not unwatachably unpleasant, but why wouldn’t you watch Catwoman or Ghost Rider instead? It just is in such an unenviable position where it’s the bottom of the bottom of the barrel, the least engaging super-schlock ever made, a movie not good enough to be vindicated but not bad enough to deserve the hate it gets. Elektra is just a film that exists. That’s all there is to it and aside from the single funny death, I have no strong feelings about this movie. I think a solid 4 is where this belongs. Not good enough to be average, not bad enough to be awful, it’s just there.

All this being said, I’m honestly very excited to see Garner become a teleporting ninja assassin again. Every comic character who was in a crappy adaptation deserves a second shot, be it as a new character (Michael B. Jordan as Killmonger) or as a reprisal that improves on the untapped potential that was there (Jamie Foxx’s Electro in No Way Home). I’m rooting for Garner to get her due, and for Electra to get the respect she truly deserves… But I just don’t really think this movie’s going to be getting a reappraisal no matter how good she ends up doing.

[spacedhead]

homestuck rereading post #3: hivebent part 2

(im adding this part when im done with this whole thing but most of my text is referring to the image under it unless stated otherwise. but i think you can tell based on the spacing when that isnt the case)

im beginning to think these titles are too long. anyway LETS FUCKING GOOOO I LOVE TAVROS NITRAM

one thing about him is that he loves fiduspawn. which as we all know is an allegory for pokemon. is allegory the right word? sources say: probably not

:) hes clappingggg

do not answer that message. keep looking at your posters. if you know whats good for you you wont even look at your computer . throw that shit away

whats her deal????

⬆️ okay well that was actually a pretty tame first interaction. she was just like haha tavros im gonna beat you at this game L and tavros was like uhhh i think we shouldnt talk . but you know him. he continued talking to her anyway. like a chump or something

what is her deal!!!!!!!!!!!!! why does the story keep framing kanaya as this bugger/meddler/fusser . she is so cool though and Normal.

tell me why this is so scary . what is this a horror story. relax

/ROLLS EYES

me on the overwatch grind every damn day

karkat wishes he had even an ounce of the swag and rizz nepeta has. you will never be her.

this is kinda funny. but he is lame its true

TAVROS GAHH YOU KILLED YOUR LUSUS. FUCK

foreshadowing.... this is like in dragon ball z when goku and piccolo are fighting raditz and goku is like "well strength isnt the only thing that matters in a fight!" and raditz is like "you are a fucking moron LMAO"

it actually isnt a real thing to say. so

oh man this is so fucked up

man he cannot catch a break right now

this interaction between karkat and vriska is interesting to me cause its karkat being like a really awful person to vriska and i would feel bad but i JUST watched her paralyze tavros while berating him and laughing at him. so its like damn. i dunno how to feel ...

okay well . this is a little bit rude but whatever

this is so awesome . you love to see a girlboss winning

what is she waffling about

i have nothing to say about the equius stuff. anyway check out this particular interaction. ⬇️

⬆️surely no more stabbing in the back between these two.

me when someone tells me vriska has w rizz. idk . this is crazy though

oh Wow

she is fuh reaking out right now . someone please get her some therapy. also all of them? all of them need it

tavros is on that no hate grindset i love to see it

i wonder if i had different color blood if my fans would turn on me. some fans they would be.... i actually have no idea what im talking about right now but i love to ramble on and on about inane bullshit so

handshakes all around to those who made it this far.

WOOOO RESIDENT LESBIAN INTRODUCED. the crowd goes fucking insane

ROSE MENTIONED!!! gosh it feels like its been so long since ive seen her.....i miss those damn kids....

im being forced to end this one here (i hit the image limit) but im coming back with a vengeance soon because we are just getting started with this DAMN SESSION

[cloudbattrolls]

@condescensionsation (for the conversation ask that got ungraciously eaten by tumblr)

--

The silver desk in the middle of the well-lit office had once belonged to Jamie Abnale, but was now covered with duck knickknacks. Its pencil mug was decorated with a dancing kittycat meme, and it was dustier in the few spaces not covered by stray papers or notepads that had never been so disarrayed when the blueblood had used it.

It now held a nameplate that read 'Chimer Latrai' and the eponymous fuchsia was settled in a chair she'd brought in to both spin around and accommodate her tall stature.

On it rested a folder that had ‘RESTRICTED’ printed on it in imperial red.

Chimer looked at the man anxiously sitting across from her, his worry clear from his stiff posture and fins held at a determined neutral half-mast.

It was a little funny, though not the kind that made her laugh. More the ‘where did my life go’ type.

“So…I mean. Your résumé is good. Ullane said you’re pretty solid, a few incidents aside. I’m not gonna phone up Queenpin for a reference, but I’m sure she’d say the same. But why did you apply?”

“Tuuya recommended it to me.” He admitted, seeming sheepish about the fact, his glow spots flicking brighter and dimmer in turn.

The fuchsia snorted. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. You don’t eat people, right?”

The violet looked scandalized at the very thought. She laughed.

“Great. Already an improvement. But like, you’re pretty busy these nights already, aren’t you? What made you want to go back to your old gig?”

Thrixe shrugged.

“Money. I don’t charge the clinic or Kaningård too much, they’re both good causes. But also…I want to keep my skills sharp. I feel…restless.” He admitted.

“My life is great. Better than I ever thought it’d be. But even though I’m doing work I enjoy, it’s not quite the same.”

Chimer nodded.

“I know you can follow orders. Probably better than worms mcgee can, though I admit they weren’t always wrong when they decided to divert. Hurts to say so, but it’s true. More importantly…do you understand you’ll be going directly against the empire at times?

Tuuya’s said to me that you still have tendencies that way, which I’m not gonna lie, is pretty funny given your whole deal.”

The hybrid winced. “I…I am no longer loyal to the empire. I haven’t been since I faked my death and fled. Then they tried to kill me a second time.” He said with a sigh.

Chimer’s eyebrows raised.

“Yet you don’t sound mad about that.”

“I’m a threat.” Said the violet bluntly. “A major threat. From a security standpoint, trying to eliminate me made sense.”

She laughed softly, rolling a pencil between her fingers.

“You sure are, bud. You’re a threat I want on my side…because even though I’m out of my old politics now, there’s a whole new field I’m playing in. I know now that the only reason no one screwed with me before was the resistance’s protection, and the resistance is gone, thanks to a certain freckled moron hunting their leader.”

Thrixe blinked. This was complete news to him, and he had no idea who the freckled moron was.

“Corelo’s great, but he has his own stuff to deal with, and I prefer him close to me.” She continued. “He’s best on the management side. You I need in the field, when trouble comes calling, or when I need to prevent it.”

She straightened up, her gaze harder.

“But will you go against the empire? Not just ignore their rules. Not just slide under their radar. Actively step up and fight their forces. Can you do that, Thrixe?”

The violet thought.

Then he nodded.

“Yes.”

Chimer Latrai grinned.

“Great. Welcome to the team. We have doughnuts every other week.”

Thrixe looked confused.

“I don’t eat doughnuts.”

His new boss looked at him in mock horror.

“You are a sad, weird little starfish.”

The violet rolled his eyes.