#Whoops fuck forgot to tag sorry

[aw-bean-s]

its 4am. i was going to go to bed 2 hours ago. however. for some fucking reason. my c:drive filled up while i was drawing. which is weird. because i swear to fucking god i had at least 50 gigs left. so i have been googling. and cleaning. and searching. and whatever the fuck for two goddamn hours. only for no one and nothing to have a solution for me. i am going to fucking scream.

[chilei-the-hotsauce]

@velnna I SAID I'D PUT HIM IN A MAGAZINE SO I DID

[poyitjdr]

Idiots (affectionate)

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠

(This one ran away with me, whoops)

Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨

This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.

Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.

And go to his DMs.

And send him a GIF.

Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.

"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.

Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅

Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑

Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess

Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass

Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.

Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?

Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-

(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)

-a little more human-shaped.

Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉

Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!

They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.

He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.

Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.

He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.

Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.

Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.

Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???

Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:

@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island

@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero

[kyleoreillylover]

Can you please go back to writing for Carmelo🥺🥺 we need it!

Stand on Business

Carmelo Hayes x Fem!Black!Reader

Summary: You think you have no stand in your friends life now that he betrayed Trick and has turned heel, but Carmelo makes it very clear what you mean to him, and stand on business when it comes to you.

tagged: @southerngirl41 @venusesworld @jeysbae @reci1996 @tbonesteakwithasideofmashngrav @hope4more @selena-tyler-564 @saintaquarius @whatdoeseverybodywant @raya-hunter01 @empressdede @judgementdaysunshine @beeposts

a/n: I got you boo <3 not my best work but I hope ya'll like this!!

warnings: cursing, wrestling related violence, a bit of angst, a lil spicy towards the end. Carmelo is 😩

"Fuck!"

Carmelo heard your screams of anger as you came to the back from the ring, your eyes red and tears streaming down your face. He and Trick, who were in conversation, watching the TV, hurried over to you, concern etched on both men's faces as you limped down the hallway.

"Yo, chill out, chill out." Trick went to you first, much to Carmelo's dismay, and went to steady you, but you shrugged him off, your frustration boiling over.

"I can't chill out, Trick! Did you see what happened out there?" you snapped, wiping angrily at your tears. "I had that match won, I had it, and then Tatum interfered and screwed me over!"

You kicked a nearby trash can, sending it clattering across the floor with your good leg, but forgot that your other leg was injured from the match. You winced in pain as the movement aggravated your already sore muscles.

Carmelo rushed to your side, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. "Easy, easy now," he said, his voice calm but firm. You let him guide you back to a nearby bench, where you reluctantly sat down, still seething with anger and frustration.

The night had gone to a complete shit show in your eyes. You lost your title to Lyra, Trick and Carmelo lost the dusty cup finals to Bron and Corbin, and now your leg was fucking throbbing with pain.

Trick slightly pushed past Carmelo to get a closer look at your injured leg. "Damn, that looks bad," he remarked, a sympathetic expression on his face, not seeing Carmelo side eye him as he touched your injured leg. You winced again as Trick's touch sent a jolt of pain through your body.

"Yeah, no shit," you muttered, gritting your teeth against the pain. "I'm sorry you guys lost your matches too. Tonight just… sucked."

Carmelo sighed, crouching down in front of you. "Ay, we good. You gon' get that title back, and Trick…" He turned to Trick with a nod, acknowledging their shared disappointment in the night's events.

"We mighta lost, but you gon' whoop Ilja and win the NXT title tonight, aight?" Carmelo's reassurance brought a small glimmer of hope to your eyes, despite the pain and frustration still coursing through your veins.

"Yeah, you're right," you said, taking a deep breath and trying to push past the negativity. "I'll get my rematch and take back what's mine. And Trick, you better believe I'll be cheering you on tonight. Ilja won't know what hit him."

Trick grinned, a glint of determination in his eyes. "You know how it is. I just wish you were there to cheer me on in person, but I understand you need to take care of that leg." He patted your shoulder before bringing you into a quick hug. "But don't worry, I'll make you proud."

Carmelo's eye twitched as he watched Trick's display of affection towards you, but he quickly composed himself, offering a supportive nod. Trick was acting like a lovesick puppy with you, and it was embarrassing. "That's right, Trick. We got your back no matter what," he said, his tone firm and resolute.

You felt a surge of gratitude towards your friends, despite the disappointment of the night's events. They were always there for you, through the wins and the losses, the highs and the lows. And tonight was no different.

"Thanks, guys," you said, managing a small smile despite the pain throbbing through your leg.

You went to speak again, but the speaker crackled to life, interrupting your conversation. It was the sound of the ring announcer's voice, calling Trick's name as his match was about to begin in 15 minutes.

Trick shot you a determined look before standing up and clapping Carmelo on the back. "You gon' be out there to cheer me on though, right? I need my brother to support me."

Carmelo nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, his tone filled with confidence. He turned to you, his eyes filled with concern and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "Want me to take you to medical and then walk you back to the bus? I ain't want you getting hurt any worse than you already are."

You gave Carmelo a appreciative smile, butterflies forming in your stomach as he grabbed your arm to help you stand up. "Yeah, that would be great, thanks," you replied, leaning on him for support as you gingerly put weight on your injured leg.

As Carmelo helped you to your feet, you leaned on him for support, grateful for his steadying presence. Trick gave you a thumbs-up before heading off to prepare for his match, leaving you and Carmelo alone in the hallway.

A couple minutes later, your leg was wrapped in a cast, and you were leaning on Melo as he walked you back to the bus.

Carmelo was acting… different, to say the least after his match with Trick. He seemed more protective than usual, and there was a tension in the air that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

As you limped down the hallway with his arm around you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Maybe it was just the adrenaline from the match, or maybe it was something else entirely.

"Are you okay? Did you get hurt too tonight?" You blurted out before you could finish your question, Carmelo cut you off with a small chuckle. "Nah, I'm good, just a little sore from the match. But you, on the other hand…" He glanced down at your injured leg, his expression softening with concern.

"I'm fine, Melo. Seriously." Despite your words, you leaned on Carmelo more heavily, your injured leg protesting with each step. He tightened his grip around you, softly tracing his thumb along your arm, making your skin tingle with awareness. You couldn't help but notice the warmth of his touch, the way his presence seemed to envelop you in a sense of safety and comfort.

As you reached the bus, Carmelo helped you settle into a seat, making sure you were comfortable before taking a seat beside you. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the sound of the bustling arena fading into the background.

"Thanks for walking me back," you said, breaking the silence. "I appreciate it. Don't think I could have walked here without your help."

Carmelo shrugged nonchalantly, a small smile playing on his lips. "No problem. Just looking out for my friend, you know?"

Friend. The word echoed in your mind, sending a pang of disappointment through you. You had always harbored deeper feelings for Carmelo, feelings you had never dared to voice out loud. But now, as you sat beside him, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe there was a chance for something more.

Before you could dwell on the thought any further, Carmelo leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a hushed tone. "Listen, I know tonight didn't go the way we wanted it to, but I want you promise me something." He paused, his dark eyes locking onto yours, a mixture of determination and something else flickering in their depths.

You felt your heart skip a beat as you met Carmelo's gaze, the intensity of his stare sending a shiver down your spine. "What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the air between you suddenly charged with an unspoken tension.

Carmelo's expression softened, a hint of vulnerability and darkness flickering on his features. "Promise me you'll never leave me, no matter what I do, no matter what happens."

His words hung in the air, heavy with emotion and unspoken longing. You searched his eyes, seeing a rawness that mirrored your own hidden desires. Without hesitation, you reached out and took his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

"I promise," You whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I'll never leave you, Carmelo. No matter what."

A sense of relief washed over Carmelo's face, his features relaxing as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He squeezed your hand tightly, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. He leaned in closer to you, and you held your breath as he brushed the hair out of your face, his touch gentle and tender. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

But before anything more could happen, the loudspeaker crackled to life once again, announcing Trick's match was about to start. Carmelo reluctantly pulled away, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he stood up.

"I gotta go support Trick," he said, his voice slightly strained. "But just promise me that you'll always remember what I said, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of warmth spreading through your chest at Carmelo's words. "I won't forget," you promised, watching as he made his way towards the exit of the bus. As he disappeared from view, you couldn't help but feel a surge of hope mingled with uncertainty swirling inside you.

And then that hope turned into anger as you watched him pummel Trick's knee with a chair, beating his best friend to the ground before storming off, leaving Trick writhing in pain.

Shock and betrayal coursed through you as you struggled to comprehend what you had just witnessed. Your mind reeled with conflicting emotions, torn between loyalty to your friend and the undeniable bond you shared with Carmelo.

You watched on the TV as Carmelo sat on the chair he used to pummel Trick, a look of smug satisfaction on his face as Trick writhed in pain.

"I'm the guy, Trick! I'm him! I'm the one for her, not you!" " He shouted, his voice filled with anger and bitterness. He licked his lips at the mention of you, standing up, a fierce determination burning in his eyes.

You felt a shiver run through you as he winked at the camera, no doubt in your mind that it was directed at you. An angel face with a devilish grin, Carmelo smirked at the camera, his gaze piercing through the screen and sending a chill down your spine.

You honestly didn't know what to do. Should you confront Carmelo about what you saw? Should you stand by Trick's side despite the betrayal? The weight of your decisions hung heavy on your shoulders as you watched the chaos unfold on the screen.

Realization suddenly dawned on you as you realized that Carmelo's actions weren't just about Trick or his vendetta against him. They were about you. You were caught in the middle of a rivalry you never asked to be a part of, torn between two friends who both claimed to care about you.

But as you watched Carmelo's cold, calculating demeanor on the screen, you couldn't help but wonder if you truly knew him at all. Was he the loyal friend you thought he was, or was there a darker side to him that you had never seen before?

You snapped out of your stupid as you saw Melo leave the ring, and went to get up, but realized the cast on your leg made it difficult to move. And you didn't have crutches, Carmelo told the docs that he would help you with whatever you needed. Anger flared within you as you realized Carmelo had purposefully withheld the means for you to leave the bus, trapping you there to witness his betrayal unfold on the screen.

You tried to get up anyways, wincing when you put weight on your injured leg. The pain shot through you like a lightning bolt, and you plopped back down onto the seat with a frustrated sigh. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to make sense of everything that had happened.

"Why, Melo?" you whispered to yourself, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "Why would you do this?"

But deep down, you already knew the answer. Carmelo's actions spoke volumes, revealing a side of him that you had never seen before.

And as much as it hurt to admit it, you couldn't deny the truth staring you in the face: that you understood where Carmelo was coming from; you could sense the underlying currents of jealousy and possessiveness that had driven him to betray Trick and hurt you in the process. But that didn't make it any easier to accept.

Exactly 10 minutes later, your door handle was being jerked open, but you found yourself unable to look Carmelo in the eye as he entered the bus.

His footsteps were heavy, weighted with guilt and regret — not for hurting Trick, but for possibly hurting you — as he made his way over to you. You could feel his presence looming over you, but you refused to meet his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor.

"Don't be shy now, baby." Carmelo's voice was soft despite the arrogance laced within it.

He sighed as you refused to acknowledge him, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, I know what you saw out there… and I know it probably doesn't make any sense right now. But can you at least look at me?"

"No, get the fuck out of my face, Carmelo," You spat out, finally mustering the strength to meet his gaze. The anger in your eyes burned brightly, mirroring the fire within your chest. "You betrayed Trick, you betrayed me. I don't want to hear your excuses."

"I didn't betray you, I betrayed him!" Carmelo interrupted, his tone defensive. "So you're just gonna turn your back on me too?" he continued, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness.

You shook your head, your frustration bubbling over. "You think this is about Trick? It's about you, Carmelo! You hurt him, and you hurt me by doing it. I don't even know if you're gonna attack me next either. You've changed, and I don't know who you are anymore."

Carmelo's eyes burned a whole through you at your words. "You really think I would hurt you? That I would betray you?" he questioned, a mixture of anger and hurt flashing across his face.

"Uh, yeah, considering you just attacked Trick and left him writhing in pain," you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Here, let me make its easier for you."

You propped your leg on the nearby seat, displaying the cast and the pain etched on your face. "I'm injured, vulnerable, and you use that to trap me here and force me to witness your little display in the ring. Real classy, Carmelo."

"You think I planned for you to get hurt so you could witness that? You think I'm that cruel?" Carmelo's voice softened, genuine concern replacing the defensive tone. He took a step closer, but you held up your hand, signaling for him to stay back.

"Don't act like you care about me now. Whatever we had, it's gone," you declared, your voice firm. "You need to leave, Carmelo. I can't be around someone who would do what you did."

Carmelo scoffed at your words, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Oh, you gon' act like I never cared about you? After everything we've been through?" he retorted, his frustration boiling over. "You think I did this just for kicks? You mean more to me than you know."

Your heart sped up as he moved closer to you, his eyes boring into yours so intently the it almost felt suffocating. "Stop looking at me like that, Carmelo."

"Like what?" Carmelo's voice was barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned in closer. You could feel the tension crackling between you, a magnetic pull drawing you closer despite your better judgment.

"Like you don't hate my guts," you replied, your voice shaky but defiant. "You can't just switch gears and expect everything to go back to normal after what you did out there. You attacked Trick, and now you're standing here acting like it's no big deal."

"Because it's not a big deal, not when it comes to him. He was never the one for you, and I needed to make you see that," Carmelo confessed, his eyes searching yours for understanding. "I care about you, more than I should, and seeing you with him… it drove me insane. And I had to do something about it. The only thing I regret is hurting you in the process."

You let out a bitter laugh, disbelief coloring your expression. "You… like me?"

Carmelo smirked at your incredulous reaction. "Yeah, I do. More than I should, and more than I ever intended to admit."

His gaze softened, and he took a step towards you, the tension between you two reaching a breaking point. You couldn't deny the conflicting emotions swirling inside you, a mix of anger, betrayal, and a spark of something else that you didn't want to acknowledge. "And I know you like me too, deep down." His face was mere inches away from yours, his eyes searching for any sign of reciprocation.

Your mind raced as you grappled with the revelation. Despite the anger and betrayal, there was an undeniable attraction between you and Carmelo. The air crackled with tension, and you could feel the pull, drawing you closer to him. His lips were dangerously close to yours, and you felt a magnetic force urging you to bridge the gap.

But the images of Trick writhing in pain on the TV screen flashed in your mind, grounding you in the harsh reality of the situation. You couldn't ignore the hurt he had caused, the trust shattered in a single, calculated act.

"No, Carmelo," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I can't… I can't just forget what you did. It's not that simple."

Carmelo's expression shifted from desperation to resignation. He sighed, stepping back and running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know you need some time, and I get that. But don't think I'm giving up on you, on us. I'll give you all the time you need, but don't think for a second that I don't care about you."

You remained silent, processing the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded in such a short span. Carmelo turned to leave, his footsteps heavy with the weight of the situation. As he reached the door, he paused, casting a final glance in your direction.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words hanging in the air between you. "I never wanted to hurt you. But I'm too selfish to let you go. Just remember that, baby."

The door closed behind him, leaving you alone in the bus with a mix of conflicting emotions. The images of Trick's pain and Carmelo's betrayal played on a loop in your mind. The pain in your leg seemed to pale in comparison to the ache in your heart.

But the fact you still wanted Carmelo made you question your own feelings and judgments. Why do you still find yourself drawn to him despite the hurt he caused? Was there a part of you that couldn't fully let go of the connection you shared?

Only time would be able to tell.

--------------------------------------------

Over the next few days, you ignored Carmelo's calls and messages, determined to give yourself the space and time needed to process the whirlwind of emotions. The tour continued, each day bringing new challenges and distractions, yet the weight of the recent events lingered in the back of your mind.

Trick, too, had been distant since the incident. The camaraderie that once defined your group seemed to have shattered, leaving an awkward tension hanging in the air. It pained you to see the friendships unravel, all because of a tangled web of emotions and betrayal.

You told all of this to Lash and Jakara, your fellow wrestlers and best friends, the next week at NXT, and you knew they would be honest with you.

"I just… Carmelo's been calling and texting me, and I don't know what to do," you admitted, looking at Lash and Jakarta with a mix of confusion and vulnerability. "I can't shake off what he did, but at the same time, there's this part of me that wants to understand."

Lash and Jakara exchanged glances before Jakara spoke up. "Look, I'ma be real. You ignoring him cause you understand where hes coming from and you mad at yourself for not being able to fully push him away, right?"

You sighed, nodding in acknowledgment. "Yeah, it's like I know he messed up, but there's this weird pull. I can't explain it."

Lash leaned forward, her eyes filled with concern. "Y/N, sometimes we're drawn to people who are bad for us. It's like a magnetic force that's hard to resist. You just gotta either fuck his brains out and see how you feel after or cut him out completely. There's no in-between when it comes to guys like that."

You couldn't help but chuckle at Lash's straightforward advice. "I don't think that'll work, but thanks for the advice, Lash."

"Oh come on, we see the way ya'll eye fuck each other." Lash teased, earning a playful shove from Jakara. "But seriously, Y/N, you gotta figure out what you want. If Carmelo's worth the risk, then go for it. But if he's just gonna bring you more pain, then it might be best to cut ties and move on."

You nodded, grateful for your friends' honesty and support. "Thanks, guys. I'll think about it. But for now, I just need some time to clear my head."

Lash and Jakara nodded in understanding, offering you comforting smiles before you left, bumping into a rock solid figure as you exited the locker room.

"Oh, I'm so sorry-" You went to apologize before realizing it was Carmelo standing in front of you. His eyes searched yours, a mix of hope and apprehension in his gaze.

"You look good." He commented, and your own eyes looked him up and down, taking in the way his leather jacket made him look so fucking hot, and his dark eyes held a certain intensity that you found both captivating and unsettling. Guess this is what Lash meant when she said you both eye fuck each other.

You took a step back, creating a physical distance between you and Carmelo. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low and earnest.

"I don't think there's much left to say, Carmelo," you replied, crossing your arms defensively. The memories of his betrayal and Trick's pain were still fresh in your mind, making it difficult to fully trust him.

"You said you needed some time. I gave you that time." Carmelo spoke, his words carrying a mixture of frustration and vulnerability.

"Yeah, a few days don't magically erase what happened," you retorted, feeling a surge of anger bubbling up. "You can't just expect everything to go back to normal after what you did."

"You think I'ma hurt you?" Carmelo studied your expression, the intensity in his eyes never wavering before realization kicked in. "You think that cause I betrayed Trick, I'ma betray you too?"

You didn't respond immediately, unsure of how to put your conflicting emotions into words. Carmelo's expression softened, and he took a step closer, a desperate plea in his eyes.

"I would never hurt you. Anybody but you." He knew you had trust issues, that you had been hurt before, and that's why you were hesitant to fully let him back in. But he was willing to fight for you, to prove that he was worth the risk.

You sighed, feeling torn between the lingering hurt and the undeniable attraction you still felt towards Carmelo. "I want to believe you, but I can't."

Carmelos' gaze darkened even more at your words, determination burning in his eyes. "Then I'ma show you that you wrong. That you tryna pretend like you don't still care about me, but I know you do." He stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I know you feel it too, that spark between us that never truly went away."

You swallowed hard, feeling a mix of apprehension and longing swirling inside you. "Melo…"

But Carmelo's hand interjected, gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours, internally smiling. You called him Melo again.

"After tonight, if you still ain't sure about us, I'll respect that. But I promise you, that you won't be able to ignore what we have." His voice was barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed himself against you, his lips tantalizingly close to yours.

For a moment, you were frozen, caught between the pull of desire and the fear of getting hurt again. But then, you felt it—the undeniable chemistry between you and Carmelo, the magnetic force that seemed to draw you closer together.

Then Carmelo pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a step back, leaving you breathless and wanting more. "Think about it, baby," he said, his voice low and husky. "I'll be waiting."

With that, Carmelo turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind racing with a million thoughts and emotions. You watched him go, feeling torn between the familiar comfort of what you had with Trick and the electrifying attraction you felt towards Carmelo.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder what the future held for you and Carmelo. Would you be able to move past the hurt and betrayal, or would you continue to be drawn to him like a moth to a flame?

You tried to find your answer in Carmelo as you watched him make his way to the ring, a chorus of boos following him as he stepping into the ring, sitting down into the same chair he used to attack Trick. The crowd expressed their disapproval with loud jeers and boos.

As Carmelo sat in the ring, a smirk playing on his lips, he glanced up at the screen, his eyes locking with yours for a brief moment. You could feel the intensity of his gaze even from across the arena, a silent promise lingering between you.

"The villain is the villain in the story if the hero is telling the story." Carmelo smirked into the camera, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "But what if the hero ain't telling the whole story? What if there's more to it than meets the eye?"

The crowd erupted into a cacophony of boos. But as you watched him sit there, a smirk playing on his lips, you couldn't help but wonder if there was truth to his words.

Maybe Carmelo wasn't the villain you had made him out to be. Maybe there was more to his story, more to his actions than you could ever understand. You thought you could never understand someone that would betray his best friend, but as you watched Carmelo in the ring, a flicker of doubt crept into your mind.

Maybe, just maybe, there was a side to Carmelo that you had never seen before. And maybe, just maybe, you were willing to give him a chance to prove himself.

He continued to gloat and smirk, eyes a flame with confidence and defiance as he addressed the crowd, his words carrying a weight of truth that sent a chill down your spine. He looked so sexy like that, leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes smoldering with intensity as he addressed the crowd. Despite the overwhelming boos and jeers from the audience, Carmelo remained unfazed, his confidence unwavering as he spoke his truth. It was like he was talking to you directly, his words piercing through the noise of the crowd and reaching straight into your heart.

"Trick, you were always my hype man. But Y/N, you were my heart. Trick, you were not on my level. But Y/N, you were always my equal." Carmelo's words echoed in your mind, resonating with a truth that you couldn't deny. Despite everything that had happened, despite the hurt and the betrayal, there was still a connection between you and Carmelo that ran deeper than words could express.

The audience started to boo even louder, making Carmelo laugh sexily, a deep chuckle escaping his lips. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he addressed the crowd with a smug grin.

"You think Trick is gonna come out and whoop me! I whooped him once, I'll do it again. but Y/N, you know better than anyone that he was never the one for you. He was just holding you back from what you truly deserve." Carmelo's eyes locked onto the camera, his words a direct challenge to both Trick and, seemingly, to you.

The crowd's reaction intensified, the boos and jeers reaching a deafening level. Carmelo seemed to revel in the chaos, his confidence unwavering as he continued to speak his truth.

"Y/N, you deserve someone who's on your level, someone who can match your intensity, someone who can give you everything you need. And deep down, you know I'm the one who can do that for you." Carmelo's voice dropped to a seductive tone, his eyes burning with a fiery passion that sent a shiver down your spine.

You licked your lips nervously, feeling a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. Carmelo's words struck a chord deep within you, stirring up feelings and desires that you had tried so hard to suppress. Despite the hurt and betrayal, there was a part of you that couldn't deny the truth in Carmelo's words.

You saw your phone buzzing, and Trick's contact popped on the screen, but you declined the call. You knew what you needed to do.

And when Carmelo came back from his promo, all confidence and swagger, you made your decision.

You approached him, grabbed him by his jacket, and kissed him passionately, the electricity between you igniting into a fiery passion that neither of you could deny. Carmelo responded eagerly, his hands finding their way to your waist as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving hungrily against yours.

The world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment, the heat of Carmelo's touch searing through you like a wildfire.

Despite the chaos and uncertainty surrounding you, there was a sense of clarity in this moment, a knowing that you were exactly where you were meant to be. He might be the villain of the story, but he was your villain, and you were ready to embrace whatever the future held for you and Carmelo.

You moaned into Melo's mouth as he bit your lip, the kiss growing more passionate by the second. Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. It was like a wildfire had been ignited between you, consuming everything in its path.

"I.. told… you." Carmelo mumbled against your lips, trying to get a sentence out, but it was hard with you kissing him so passionately. You pulled back slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you smirked at him.

"Told me what?" you teased, enjoying the way his breath hitched as you trailed kisses along his jawline.

Carmelo's eyes darkened with desire as he gazed at you, his hands gripping your waist possessively. "That I'm the one for you, baby. Always have been." With that, he crashed his lips back against yours, the kiss igniting a firestorm of passion between you.

You giggled against his lips, feeling a surge of excitement coursing through you as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.

"Then prove it to me," you challenged between kisses, your voice breathless with desire.

Carmelo's lips curled into a wicked smirk as he pulled away slightly, his dark eyes burning with a fierce determination. "Oh, I intend to," he replied, his voice husky with desire.

With that, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you towards the nearest private room, his lips trailing hot kisses along your neck as he whispered promises of passion and pleasure.

Let's just say... he definitely proved himself to you that night, leaving no doubts in your mind about his feelings or intentions.

[peachshadows]

Hi, sorry, I just went through the entire sv rip-off tag because I'm all for isekai! Macaque, and all, but I do also want to share my thought on this.

1.) I feel like the relationship between General Ma (or was it Marshal) and Macaque would be strained. Because she cares for Wukong and likely detested all the bullying that Macaque did. So, maybe later in the story, she would snap at Macaque, all rage and disgust at the fact that he might be deceiving Wukong, only to be shocked at Macaque actually listening to her and apologizing. It's an interesting little story moment that can really help fix their relationship.

2.) While I like the fact that Macaque has a good relationship with everyone, I just want a scenario where some demon fucked up real badly and Macaque goes all villain like in his rage. He doesn't go ballistic like Wukong. He goes all sinister and threatening, which really shows the extent of his acting skills and how he is getting comfortable in his role as the "scum villain." Bonus points if the reason he got angry involved Wukong somehow. This can be set after Macaque's journey to figure out how to get more powers, so it just puts into perspective for the people who witnessed this show of power how strong Macaque grew to be. I can see General Liu being all proud, General Ba being surprised and stuttering questions while General Beng just raises his eyebrows. General Ma is conflicted, and Wukong just falls in love with him for the 4th time, again. Macaque's harem are swooned by that sheer power display, and the Brotherhood will all be up in Mac's face, being like, "When did you learn how to do that?". The aftermath would be very funny for our dear isekai'd boy.

3.) It would be funny that while Macaque is oblivious to Wukong's advances, he is entirely aware of Mei and Red Son's towards MK. For example, we know MK knows about Wukong being in live with Macaque, so why not have Macaque give some advice to Red Son on how to win the little monkey demon's heart?

4.) With all the love potions and sex pollens going around, I kinda wanna see Macaque pull a move where he 'saves' Wukong from drinking some tea and getting drugged because he recognized that scent from his time on his journey and obviously seeing and learning a lot of stuff, so he immediately goes on and try to control the situation by having everyone leave the room so it doesn't affect anyone further. What he doesn't know is that the tea was originally meant for HIM and just got mixed up in the kitchen, and when Wukong and Macaque's harem realizes that, they go hunting.

Anyway, that's all I got for now. This AU has been going around my head like a record, and I can't wait to see which direction it takes.

— Dreamy! Anon

Hello! Tysm for sharing ur thoughts on the au :]

1. Well I'll be real with u General Ma is dead first of all. I technically mentioned that in chapter 3 but that's alr if u missed or forgot that part since it is just a tiny detail so yeahh

2. That would be interesting! I'd like to imagine this demon knows Macaque's reputation as being the detested scum villain who bullies their king because of jealousy so when they try to mess with Macaque, they just get their ass totally whooped by not only Macaque but everyone around him cuz let's be real everyone's way too protective of Macaque

3. Oh absolutely! And it's the same for MK's perspective, he sees Wukong being all lovey dovey to Macaque but is totally oblivious to Mei and Red Son's advances just cuz I think it's funny but to also develop Macaque and MK's relationship for the better

4. Yeahh there's bound to be a wife plot for Macaque whether it's a truth potion or a sex pollen, he'd definitely save Wukong and in turn Wukong goes crazy with having to not only control his murderous rage at whoever could poison his beloved but also having to deal with a fevered and dazed Macaque which I think is a fun scenario

[training4theapocalypse]

Finders Keepers Ch 9. (Cormac McLaggen x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 6.9k (whoops)

Warnings: SMUT, Sex Pollen (and therefore non-con), homophobia

Summary: McLaggen tries to apologise. Reader lets off some steam at the end of year party in the Prefects' Bathroom.

A/N: I am nervous as FUCK about this one. I cried real tears writing this. I hope I got it right. Some recommended listening: Daylight, Possibility, Habits

Masterlist

Tag list: @pretendfan, @countlambula, @ratsys, @aweidlich, @navs-bhat, @stainedpomegranatelips, @chiaraanatra, @xxvelvetxxxx, @ohnoitsrosie, @dracosisteer,

Chapter 9: Real

“He’s still out there,” says Cho, entering the common room. It’s late. You, Cho and Marietta are the only three who haven’t gone up to bed yet. “He says he’s sleeping out there if you don’t come out. And I refused to tell him the answer to let him in.” 

“Good. He’s too thick to get in here on his own,” you say, sitting on the sofa and flipping through your Charms textbook. You’re not really reading it - you couldn’t concentrate if you tried. You just keep turning pages angrily for something to do.

After a thorough dressing down in McGonagall’s office where you pleaded with her not to expel you, she eventually settled for banning you from Quidditch, stripping you of your Captaincy and giving you detention every Saturday until the end of the year. 

Now you wonder if you’d rather have been expelled.

“Aren’t you even going to speak to him?” asks Marietta.

“I heard everything he had to say in the dressing room earlier and it’s the last thing I ever want to hear coming out of his stupid mouth.”

“Eddie said -”

“Don’t talk to me about Carmichael either. I can’t believe you’re still seeing him after what he and McLaggen said about you too.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Eddie said he didn’t say anything like that and I believe him.”

You tut and don’t bother looking up. “More fool you then.” You turn the next page and are greeted with a Polaroid of you and McLaggen sitting on the Quidditch stands - it must have slid between the pages. You took the photo yourself, of your head and shoulders with Cormac, you mean McLaggen, nuzzling into your neck. Your stomach twists looking at the giddy expression on your face.

The Polaroid. Your face flushes hot as you’re reminded of the topless photo you gave to him. The way he talked about you makes you wonder how many other Gryffindor boys have seen it by now.

You snap your book shut. “Actually, I will go out and speak to him.”

“You are?” asks Cho, surprised. “Do you want me to come? You know, for moral support?”

“And to make sure you don’t say something you regret,” mutters Marietta. You ignore her.

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, adrenaline already coursing through your body as you ready yourself for confrontation. “I just need to return his jumper. And he has something of mine.”

You quietly creep up to the dormitory to pick the jumper off the chair where you keep discarded clothes and head back downstairs. Marietta and Cho are huddled next to each other whispering.

“Good luck,” says Cho looking up. You stop in front of them and hand Marietta your wand. She might have a point about you doing something you’ll regret.

“Take this. I don’t want to be expelled.”

When you close the common room door behind you, you find McLaggen sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall.

“Here,” you toss the jumper at him. “I’m only out here to give you this. So you can fuck off back to your common room.” You turn to go back inside.

“Wait!” He jumps to his feet. “Please, just talk to me.” He puts a bandaged hand on your shoulder and winces. It looks badly burned.

“Don’t touch me. Either go to bed or go to the hospital wing. I don’t care. Just keep it away from me.”

“I’m sorry - ”

“Save it, McLaggen. Wait, I forgot you can’t save shit.”

He doesn’t take the bait and for some reason, this annoys you even more. Come on, you think, argue with me - give me an excuse to scream at you. He just looks down at you pleadingly, with those green eyes you’ve spent countless hours gazing into. You look determinedly away, refusing to be drawn in.

“Please, listen to me. It was just locker room talk after a shitty game. I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Then why did you say it.” The plea makes your voice crack. And you feel another flash of annoyance, this time at your own emotions for betraying you, making you sound pathetic. You swallow, trying to rid yourself of the lump in your throat.

“Look, if I got too defensive or took it too seriously they’d have just ramped it up.”

“So, what, you just went along with it? Do you not have any respect for me at all, talking about how I ‘fucking love it’? Talking shit about my friends too?”

“Is that any better than what you told Cho and Marietta?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” you seethe. “For telling Cho and Marietta that we had a nice date and that you… that we…” That he treated you right. That when you had sex you shared a connection that you’d never felt before. That you told each other how you felt. Or at least how you thought you felt. “I never talked about you like that,” you finish.

“Come on, we weren’t being serious. They were just taking the piss - they don’t actually think you’re only going out with me to sabotage the game.”

You can’t believe he’s minimising this. The hurt you feel rises up in your throat and you spit it at him before you can stop yourself. “Well, they were right.” McLaggen’s eyebrows knit together, trying to make sense of what you’re saying. “None of this was real.” You shake your head and take a step away from him, towards the door. “This was all just so I could fuck up your team’s chances for the cup.”

There’s a moment’s silence. “That’s not true.” He chews on his bottom lip, searching your face. “This was real. It still is real.”

“Oh yeah? You sure about that?” You twirl your hair in a mocking imitation of yourself. “‘Oh Cormac, I’ve never felt like this before. Please fuck me.’” You cross your arms. “As if you ever did it right. As if I ever felt anything for you.”

“I -” His face falls and you’re surprised when immense guilt hits you like a tonne of bricks - you’ve tried to hurt him on purpose and it’s worked. Too well. There’s no taking it back. You try and force yourself to remember the stupid grin he gave you when he left the dressing rooms, to reignite your anger. 

Say something worse back. Give me a reason to hate you more than I hate myself for saying it. 

But instead, he just takes a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry you had to pretend for so long,” he says flatly.

Your remark was a low blow. He set the fire but you stomped all over the embers. Your heart feels like it’s cracking down the middle. You’d rather relive every loss on the pitch a million times over than feel the way you do now.

“I am too.” Your eyes burn so you turn towards the door quickly before the tears start rolling down your cheeks. You pause as you’re about to touch the handle and look back over your shoulder. 

He’s facing away from you, his broad shoulders slightly hunched looking down at the jumper in his hands. 

“I want my photo back.”

McLaggen clears his throat. “Yeah, sure.” His voice is thick. “No problem.”

You whisper the answer to the riddle and Marietta and Cho fall backwards when you push the common room door open again.

You wipe your eyes and look down at them on the floor. You don’t even want to tell them off for eavesdropping -  you just sink to your knees on the patterned blue carpet beside them and start sobbing into your hands. Marietta puts an arm around you. Cho tucks a wet strand of hair behind your ear.

You’ve lost everything - except for the two people comforting you now as ugly tears stream down your face, into your hair and soaking the carpet.  

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

Spring merges into summer, each day passing into the next seamlessly like a flipbook. Incremental changes that you barely notice as exams draw closer and closer.

The only real difference is the sun setting later and later, making it increasingly difficult for you to sneak out at night, alone, with your broom to practice Quidditch. You need to keep up your training if you still want to impress the Holyhead Harpies at tryouts in the summer. McGonagall can ban you from Quidditch at Hogwarts but she can’t ban you from that.

You’ve become exceptionally good at enchanting the quaffle to fly towards you, in lieu of you and McLaggen taking shots at each other. But you soon predict the patterns the charm forces the quaffle to take and saving the shots gets too easy. 

It doesn’t stop you from spending hours in the dead of night, tormenting yourself with the same repeated mechanical saves over and over and over. It’s a suitable punishment for getting yourself banned. It’s somehow linked to the cup in your mind. If you can just keep practising, forcing yourself to carry out save after save until your wrists ache, your legs are bruised and you can barely stay awake on the seat of your broom - maybe your team will win the cup in your absence.

Your groin feels numb as you take off your robes and examine the nasty, painful contusions on your inner thighs in the dim dawn light before falling into bed. Welts from your broom handle and bruises from the quaffle so painful that you need to sleep with a pillow between your legs.

You fall asleep, exhausted, instantly. And you’re grateful for the release of sleep - the less time you spend lying in bed awake the less time you have to think about McLaggen.

During the day, when you’re somehow operating on three hours of sleep, you spend every free second either in detention, in class, doing homework or studying alone. You decline Marietta and Cho’s offers to join their group studying with the other seventh years, including their boyfriends. You’re becoming increasingly anxious that you need to do well in your exams - a backup plan if you can’t play Quidditch professionally.

And the less time you spend around Cho, Michael, Marietta and Eddie being loved up, the less frequently you’re reminded of McLaggen.

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

The Inter-House Quidditch Cup Final is scheduled for the last weekend in May. Even though you’re not playing, you feel sick to your stomach just thinking about it. 

“I wish you didn’t have detention,” says Cho, tying up her long dark hair as she gets ready for the match. You sit on the edge of your bed, putting your shoes on. “Who else is going to scream at me when I’m playing like shit?”

“Well, it’s your job to do the screaming,” you say, picking up your - her - Captain’s pin and putting it on her chest. “Go out there and give them hell for me, Captain.”

“You’ll always be the Captain. To me… to the team. We miss you.”

Your heart weighs down on your heavily. You miss them too. There’s only one person you miss more. All you want is to be comforted by him. Have him pull your face into his chest and stroke your hair, tell you everything is fine. Losing your Captaincy would have almost been bearable if you still had him.

Cho as usual seems to read your mind.

“Sometimes we don’t realise what we had until it’s gone.”

“It’s just a badge. I’m okay… really.”

“I’m not talking about Quidditch.” She takes your hand. “I know he made a mistake. A bad one. But things are changing outside of Hogwarts.” You’re reminded horribly of the story in the Daily Prophet about the five your old boy who was mauled by a werewolf last month because his mother wouldn’t give information to Death Eaters. “I would give anything to have had one more moment with Cedric.”

You hold your breath. Cho hardly ever mentions him. “He never would have made a mistake like that,” you say finally.

She shrugs, tears welling in her eyes. “I guess I’ll never know. He wasn’t perfect either, even if other people would rather remember that he was.”

“Well, I know one thing - he would have been proud of you.” You close your eyes. “You’ve got this. Bring it home.”

They lose spectacularly. You left the cup for them on a silver platter and they lost 450 - 140. Like you, Potter was stuck in detention and didn’t play but losing their Captain seemed to unite the Gryffindor team whereas Ravenclaw crumbled.

You thought you’d feel something. Anger, bitterness… anything. You just feel numb. It’s like you’ve been desensitised. Extreme exposure to your entire spectrum of emotions these past few weeks.

You’re sure the Gryffindor common room will be a riot right now. A slashing sting of pain cuts through your emotionless daze, picturing McLaggen in celebration. Maybe he’d have a few Firewhiskies and wrap his arms around another Gryffindor girl, picking her up and spinning her the way he so often did with you. 

The mood in the Ravenclaw room is sour. You wonder if they blame you. If they do, it’s nowhere near as much as you blame yourself. The only two people behaving normally are Marietta and Carmichael, neither of them has ever been particularly interested in Quidditch.

“Do you mind a third wheel?” You ask, approaching them at the airy window seat. Marietta moves her legs from Carmichael’s lap so you can join them. They don’t notice you discreetly clench your jaw when your bruised legs, hidden by your school robes meet the hard surface.

“Where’s Cho?” 

“Still down there, I’ve heard. I think the team is avoiding me. Did you watch the game? How was it?” You hope they didn’t, you’re not sure you’re ready to hear details yet.

“We stayed for a bit,” answers Carmichael. “But we came back early when we saw it was going tits up. I’ve got stuff to be getting on with - namely the old seventh-year hale and hearty.”

“The what?”

“My job as Head Boy, innit? Need to organise a big do after the N.E.W.Ts”

“It’s going to be great,” says Marietta fondly, touching his leg. You resolved to respect her decision to continue seeing Carmichael so you try to appear interested.

“Nice one. What have you got planned?”

He leans in to explain. “Right, listen to this. It’s gonna be a pool party in the Prefects’ Bathroom -”

“A pool party?” You wrinkle your nose. “Aren’t the teachers supposed to come to the end-of-year celebration?” 

“Nah, nah, nah.” He waves a hand dismissively. “I’ve not got to the most ingenious bit yet. I’m planning a second decoy party for the next day. Y’know the official one with all the teachers. This one they won’t know about. Loads of booze and some other er, illicit substances.”

“What, like drugs?” you whisper eagerly. You could really, really do with blowing off some steam after the term you’ve had. Where would you even get those in the wizarding world? Class A’s aren’t exactly the kind of thing someone would sell down an alley in a quaint little wizard village like Hogsmeade.

“Yeah, right. These wizard-born ones wouldn’t be able to handle that,” he grins, jerking his thumb at Marietta who rolls her eyes. “Made of softer stock than you and me. I’m talking banned potions and suchlike.”

Interesting.

“And you’re alright with this? I thought you were against rule-breaking?”

She shrugs. “It’ll be after exams so if we get caught it won’t matter. Besides, they’re not going to expel all of us, are they?”

“How are you paying for this? Haven’t the teachers noticed you siphoning galleons off the official party budget?”

“Funny you should ask. McLaggen’s footing the bill. I mean, you know he’s minted.”

You wonder if McLaggen’s funding the party because he’s desperate to get wasted for the same reasons you are. You swallow and try to sound casual. “How - how is he anyway?”

Marietta’s eyes widen. It’s the first time you’ve even mentioned him since the night outside the common room. 

Carmichael sighs and takes his eyes off his parchment to look at you seriously. “He looks the same as you - like shit, by the way,” he adds as if you haven’t noticed the bags under your own eyes or the way McLaggen looks tired and withdrawn in Potions, even from your new desk, alone at the other side of the classroom.

“Did he tell you about - ?”

He cuts you off. “I’m not getting in the middle of it.”

You nod. 

“That’s fair.” 

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

During the second last week in June, you sit your final N.E.W.T. -  your Potions practical. In the Great Hall, you find yourself at a single table adjacent to McLaggen’s.

The examiner, Professor Marchbanks, gives her usual preamble before the exam and instructs you to turn over your exam paper.

‘AMORTENTIA.’

You breathe a sigh of relief. You know this one well. There’s a list of ingredients and partial instructions. The rest is up to you.

“You have ninety minutes. Good luck.”

She turns and conjures a giant hourglass sand timer and with a flick of her wand flips it so the golden sand starts cascading, counting down the time left in the exam.

You get to work lighting the fire underneath your cauldron before making a start on grinding up your rose petals to a fine powder.

An hour later, the room is filled with the heady scent you recognise intimately as the one that reminds you sorely of McLaggen. There are new notes this time. The scent of toasted cinnamon marshmallows, the smell of grass on a frosty December night and just a hint of Firewhiskey all complement the amber and jasmine fragrance you know so well.

You hold a moonstone over your cauldron, ready to drop it in and the memory of the first time you brewed it swims clearly in your head. You remember the spark of electricity when you grabbed McLaggen’s wrist.

“That’s quartz - not moonstone.”

“Shit, thanks. Good catch - you could be a seeker.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

You discreetly look at McLaggen to find he’s already looking at you. The corner of his mouth turns up slightly and he holds up the iridescent blue moonstone between his fingers. The small gesture brings a lump to your throat. You wonder if he thinks about you as much as you think about him. You give him the tiniest nod before returning your attention back to your exam.

At the end of the ninety minutes, when your potion has been brewed. Professor Marchbanks walks around the tables, asking each pupil a selection of questions before dismissing them. You feel extremely confident about this one - the pearlescent colour and spiralling steam coming from your cauldron look perfect.

Your ears prick up as she reaches McLaggen. 

“McLaggen, Cormac.”

“Yes, professor.”

“Very nice,” she says peering into his cauldron. “Can you please tell me, when did MACUSA ban Amortentia?”

“Er, 1922?”

You hear the unmistakable noise of a quill ticking parchment.

“And what is distinctive about the scent?”

“It smells different to everyone depending on what attracts them.” 

“Care to indulge me for an extra point?” She says in a simpering sort of voice that makes your mouth twist into a frown. Surely the old bat isn’t flirting with McLaggen? 

“Yes, professor. I can smell freshly laundered Quidditch robes, coconut shampoo and warm toast.”

“Well, that sounds lovely.”

“It was.”

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

You, Cho and Marietta manage to sneak to the Prefects’ Bathroom undetected later that night which is lucky considering how giggly they are from your pre-drinks in the dormitory. You too are in a better mood now that both your exams and the Quidditch season are over. A small part of the weight that you’ve been carrying has been lifted from your chest and it’s as if you can breathe a little more deeply again. 

And even though you try to tell yourself that you don’t care, that you never want to speak to him again, you do want to see McLaggen tonight. You know you shouldn’t. Maybe the fumes in your potions exam got to you but tonight you feel open to clearing the air, or at least having a cordial relationship rather than ignoring each other.

You also know you should apologise for what you said. He was able to apologise to you, after all. The way you hurt him when you told him you never cared about him at all. Could you forgive yourself if you parted ways at graduation forever without him knowing that you had never really meant it?

“Sandalwood,” Marietta tells the door and it swings open. You shut it behind you quickly when you’re met with loud music. The room is dark, lit by a hundred candles and the moonlight outside pouring through the stained glass mermaid mural.

The seventh-years congregate in their various groups and cliques, some sitting around the edge of the swimming pool which has been filled with blue foam. You immediately spot McLaggen at the edge of the pool, talking to Katie Bell and Leanne. You could recognise those bare, broad shoulders anywhere. The ones that you’ve kissed and bitten and gripped onto tight while he fucked you.

‘She fucking loves it. Said I was the best she’s ever had.’

It was true. You loved it. And he loved it too. But the problem was that you also loved each other.

The three of you squeeze into a changing cubicle together and start stripping from your robes down to your bathing suits. Marietta removes the half-empty bottle of mead from her bag.

“One more for good luck?” She asks and you each take a quick swig before giving each other a once-over. Cho fixes Marietta’s hair and then shrieks with laughter when Marietta tugs the front of Cho’s bathing suit down to show more cleavage. 

Cho turns to you and winces when she sees your legs. Marietta claps her hand to her mouth.

“I told you you need to take a break.”

Your inner thighs remain conspicuously covered in bruises from your late-night Quidditch practice. 

“It’s fine, it’s dark out there. Besides, nobody’s going to be looking at me tonight. Although I am going to talk to McLaggen,” you add seriously. 

Cho beams but Marietta purses her lips.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she says.

“What? You’ve both been telling me to speak to him.”

“I just… Maybe not tonight. I think everyone could do with a drama-free party. You don’t want to bring down the mood.” She’s clearly worried about you ruining Eddie’s big night.

“No drama. I promise. I’m…” You swallow. “I’m going to apologise and just leave things as friends. If anything it will lift the mood. It means we can all mingle without it being awkward.”

“And you’re sure he’ll accept it? It won’t be a screaming match?”

You hesitate. You hadn’t considered the possibility that he wouldn’t. “We’ll behave.”

The three of you emerge from the cubicle and make your way over to a table being used as a makeshift bar where Eddie Carmichael and Michael Corner are mingling. They greet Marietta and Cho respectively while you busy yourself and grab a drink.

“This looks great, Eddie,” coos Marietta. It does. He’s made some effort - it looks more like a nightclub than a student bathroom tonight. Your eyes land on McLaggen again.

“Back in a sec.”

You slip into the water and wade over to the far side of the pool where McLaggen, Katie and Leanne are chatting, waist-deep in the water. Leanne waves and smiles warmly. McLaggen looks apprehensive.

“Hey,” you say sheepishly to the group. “McLaggen, have you got a minute?”

“Yes,” answers Leanne immediately. “No, you two can stay here.” She tells McLaggen when he looks around for a quiet space to talk. She grabs Katie and drags her away. 

You rest your arms on the edge of the pool, looking at the mural of the mermaid. McLaggen leans on the wall next to you.

“How’s the hand?”

He lifts it out of the water and flexes it - you can’t help but notice the way his forearm muscles contract. “It’s alright now. I went to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey sorted me out.”

You drag your gaze from his hand to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. I deserved it.”

“I didn’t mean the hand.” Another pang of guilt. “Though I actually am sorry about that too. I wanted to apologise for what I said outside the common room.”

He reaches over you to grab a bottle of beer from the side. He still smells good, you can notice it even surrounded by the sickly sweet smell of the periwinkle foam. He doesn’t say anything so you continue.

“I was trying to hurt you. On purpose. I feel like shit.”

“Well… that makes two of us.” He takes a sip of beer and stares across the pool.

“I thought if I convinced myself I never cared about you, I’d feel better about what you told Dean and Peakes.”

“I get it,” says McLaggen, who eventually turns to look at you. “It was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. I know I said it was just banter but I wish I’d stuck up for you. For us.” He spins his beer bottle in his hands. “I told myself it was fine because you had told Cho and Marietta about our date but I knew I was kidding myself.”

You swallow. “McLaggen, you ruined it.”

“I know,” he says simply and you both stare at the mermaid quietly for a moment while she brushes her hair.

You take a deep breath. “Anyway, I came over to see if we could still be friends.”

He looks into your eyes. “You know I can’t be your friend. I just can’t,” he says in a low voice.

You’ve hurt each other so badly that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You nod. “I’d better head back.” You grab your drink. “I mean, we can at least be around each other without fighting, right? If you want to hang out with Carmichael you don’t need to wait for me to leave.”

McLaggen hesitates like there’s something else he wants to say but thinks better of it. “Yeah… sure.”

He follows you to the group where Marietta and Cho are laughing so hard they’re crying. Carmichael has a wide grin on his face.

“That you two made up then?”

You and McLaggen look at each other. “Not really.” Marietta and Cho clutch each other, gasping for air between giggles. “What’s got them?”

“Elixir of Euphoria,” says Carmichael. “It’s expired so it’s extra strong. You want some? There’s one left.” He jumps out of the pool and kicks his bag over to you before going to get himself another drink.

Your curiosity gets the better of you. You open the bag and you’re not sure what Carmichael is on about - there’s about two dozen pink bottles left. 

“You want one?” you ask McLaggen, who shakes his head. “Michael?”

“I’ve had one - just waiting for it to kick in,” he says, obviously unaware that he’s beaming from ear to ear.

Honestly, you could do with cheering up, you can’t remember the last time you smiled the way Michael is right now. You take a vial and down it in one go, discarding the bottle at the pool’s edge beside your drink. Immediately your skin starts to tingle pleasantly. This is nice. You wonder when the giggles will kick in.

Warmth spreads through your body, right to your fingertips and toes. It’s like all your senses are heightened - the sensation of the warm water, the dim light dancing across the pool. You’re suddenly aware of how good McLaggen smells, the smell of amber and jasmine coming from his body is strong. Even stronger than the cloying blueberry scent of the foam.

You step away from him and lean against the wall, trying to get relief from the overpowering, intoxicating smell. You feel good but you don’t find it funny at all. Quite the opposite.

“Did you get it okay?” asks Carmichael, returning with a drink. You look up and realise for the first time ever that he looks fucking great, standing there above you in his swim shorts. You can now see why Marietta likes him. Your eyes linger on his body.

“Yeah,” you say in a barely audible whisper. 

“Are you…?” He gives you a strange look. You feel impatient waiting for him to finish his sentence. Are you what? Ready to end the party early and go upstairs to Ravenclaw Tower with him? Yes! “Oh, shit.” He spots at the empty vial at his feet. “That isn’t Euphoria Elixir.”

“You - you said it was in your bag.” You say, feeling slightly panicky now as your chest rises and falls rapidly.

“Didn’t you read the label? I thought the heart-shaped bottles would give it away.” Cho and Marietta look over at the commotion as he bends down to pick up the bottle. “It’s a love potion, mate.” He says to McLaggen over your shoulder.

‘Oh, shit’ is right.

You take deep gulps of air, trying to calm yourself. You feel burning hot. A bead of sweat drips down your chest falling between your breasts “What?! You were going to spike someone?”

He looks offended. “What? No! It’s for couples who want to take it. Consensually. A bit of added spice, innit? I’ve got loads of it.”

It’s like a sauna in here, you feel the back of your neck - it’s sticky with sweat. But not as hot and sticky as you feel below the waist. “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” you whisper quietly, trying to stop yourself worked up.

Cho notices you panicking and it seems to sober her up a little. She’s still smiling to herself as she swims over to you. God, she’s so pretty. The way her hair is so shiny and wet at the ends. She’s more beautiful than the mermaid on the mural.

“What happens if you take a love potion that hasn’t been enchanted by someone?” McLaggen asks Carmichael, taking a step towards you. You hold your breath, trying not to inhale any of his stupid pheromones.

Cho steadies you and takes your hands. “Don’t hold your breath. Lots of air. Let’s get you some water.”

You look into her eyes. Her beautiful eyes. And you notice she has freckles. You could stand here and count every one. You suddenly realise, it’s never been McLaggen or Carmichael. It’s Cho.

“Kiss me!” You blurt out, pulling her hands towards you. She bursts out laughing again. 

“Well, that answers that question,” says Carmichael.

“Cormac,” says Cho urgently, trying hard to restrain you as you try and wrap your arms around her. You can’t help yourself. She smells so good. Clean. You need to get close to her. “A little help?”

“What am I gonna do? Can’t you just put her to bed?”

“And have her going down the corridor like this?” says Cho, struggling, and Marietta rushes over to help her. Maybe Marietta will kiss you. She doesn’t. She dodges your lips and holds onto your wrist while Cho holds the other. “Clearly she wants to fuck anyone. What if she bumps into a teacher?”

You groan. “Oh god, I hope it’s Firenze -” Mortified, Marietta claps her free hand over your mouth. God, it’s boiling hot. The water is making everything below your waist throb.

“Please, Cormac.” Marietta’s eyes dart around the room. Nobody else seems to have noticed your condition yet. “She trusts you. More than anyone.”

McLaggen groans and drags his hand down his face in exasperation before looking up at Carmichael. “How long do these last?”

“Half an hour? An hour? Two? I’ve got no idea mate, they’re expired.”

McLaggen looks at Marietta and Cho struggling to hold onto you. He sighs and heaves himself out of the pool. “Right, come on then,” he extends his hand to hoist you out and you eagerly grab it when Cho and Marietta release you. He looks so fucking beautiful in this light, with his wet hair and sharp, angular jaw.

“Where are you taking her?” Asks Cho.

“Cubicle. Don’t let anyone down this way, alright?” 

Cho looks uneasy. “Cormac… you’re not-?”

He screws up his face, offended, looking back at Cho as he helps you to your feet. “Going to take advantage of her? Cho, come on.”

You stopped listening after he said he was taking you to a cubicle. A cubicle. Alone. You’ve never considered it to be a particularly sexy place before but just thinking about it makes heat emanate from your every pore - between your legs feels like it’s on fire. You squeeze his hand as he drags you quickly around the corner to the door furthest away from the pool.

“After you,” McLaggen says, holding it open and you practically skip inside. He steps in and locks the door behind him.

The smell of him is overpowering. The way he towers between you and the door makes your pussy leak. You barely have time to register the serious look on his face before you throw your arms around him. 

“Nope!” He says, catching your forearms and wrenching them from around his neck. He pins them to your side.

“Fuck, Cormac. Touch me,” you whine, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. He swerves your lips. You exhale shakily. “Wha- why are we in here? Aren’t you going to fuck me?”

“Absolutely not.” He looks down at you with concern. “Your skin feels like it’s on fire.”

“I - I’m fine,” you hiccup. “P-p-please, I want you so badly.”

He pulls you tight to his bare chest and you whine, your face smushed against his muscles. With one arm, wrapped tightly around you, he turns on the shower. “We don't have supplies in here to make an antidote so we need to cool you down.” You squeal when icy water hits your back.

You clench your thighs together. Everything is pulsing, begging to be touched. 

“Can’t you just - ?”

“No.” 

Cormac keeps you firmly pinned to his body, holding around your shoulders with both arms as he forces you both under the bronze shower head, cold water cascading down your bodies. You sob into his chest, your mouth pressing against his wet skin, inhaling the familiar smell of his aftershave. It turns you on so much that it hurts.

“Fuck, I need to - ” you turn your face slightly, taking gulps of air to steady yourself. “I- I, fuck.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he whispers gently, bringing one hand up to stroke your wet hair. “Do what you need to do.”

The way he strokes your hair and tells you everything is okay grounds you temporarily. You know what you need to get rid of it from your system.

You move your hand between your bodies to find your throbbing clit with your hand through your swimsuit. You start rubbing in circles furiously, moaning into his pectoral muscles. Your walls clench desperately around nothing, wishing they were gripping his cock as your fingers urgently work on your small bundle of nerves. 

The back of your hand brushes something rigid and you pant in excitement. “You’re hard - fuck me, please.” 

He jerks his hips back away from you. “Nope. Just keep going. Come on,” he urges through gritted teeth.

Small flashes of lucidity come to you, brought forth by the icy water. Fuck, you’ve missed him so much, you think during a wave of unclouded clarity. Even just being close to him like this. Your orgasm builds, swelling from deep inside as you take deep gulps of the smell of his skin. Your clit pulses underneath the pressure of your fingers. 

“Fuck, why is this happening to me?” you whimper, in a brief moment of intense embarrassment that comes as quickly as it goes again. 

He says nothing. Instead, he soothes you with a gentle shushing noise and presses his lips to the top of your head. A tiny token of affection that sends you over the brink. You silently gasp for air as pleasure engulfs you. All you can hear is the echo of water on tile ringing in your ears as you reach your climax. 

The ecstasy that flows through your body is beyond intense but over in a few short seconds. Your knees shake and your dead weight drops into McLaggen but he’s holding onto you so tightly that you don’t fall. You whimper, feeling bliss spreading across your skin, only for it to evaporate completely, instead of it nestling and purring in your chest like usual.

Suddenly you’re cold.

Oh fuck.

Your thoughts become less hazy, less dreamlike and your teeth start to chatter.

“C-can you t-turn it off?” You shiver. He looks down at you and, obviously feeling like it’s safe to do so, releases his hold of you and turns off the shower.

His lips are blue. 

“Are you okay?” He curls his finger under your chin, tilting your head up into the light. “Your pupils are back to normal.”

You nod and both stare at each other silently. 

“Thank you for…” You’re not sure what to say. For restraining you? Making sure you didn’t make a fool out of yourself? 

He gives you a tight-lipped grimace. “I’m just glad you’re alright.” He turns to unlock the door.

You can’t let him go. Not now. Not ever.

“Cormac…” You reach out and touch his arm, feel your eyes welling up. “Cormac, I think about you every day. And I’m sorry I hurt you so badly that you don’t even want to be friends with me anymore.”

McLaggen breathes a heavy sigh and turns back around to face you. “It’s not that I don’t want to be friends with you. It’s that I can’t be. I can’t be your friend and see you move on with someone else. I’ll always be in love with you. And I’m sorry I ruined it.”

You blink and feel tears falling down your face. “I love you too. I miss you. I miss us.”

He comes closer, his freezing cold hands cup your face as he brushes away a tear with his thumb. “I miss us too.”

“I don’t want to be your friend either,” you whisper, looking into those devastatingly beautiful eyes.

He leans down, pulling your face close to his and kisses you. And it feels so much better than the orgasm you had under the influence of the love potion. Time stops, and the concept of everything else that has ever existed vanishes. It’s just you and him. You link your arms behind his neck. Hot, damp tears land on your cheeks and you taste salt when they fall across your lips. You’re not sure if they’re yours or his. You kiss his top lip, his stubbly chin, his eyes - every wet part of his face.

Cormac picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist, desperate for every inch of your body to touch his. You grab his face and run your fingers through his hair. He parts his lips and you moan when his tongue enters your mouth - not from pleasure, from longing. You’ve missed the taste of him. 

He holds you in a vice-like grip and pushes your body against the cool, tiled wall. When his hips press firmly between your open legs, you wince in pain at the pressure on your bruised thighs.

Cormac pulls back. “You alright?” His lips are slightly swollen and thankfully, no longer blue.

“Yeah, just a few bumps and bruises from Quidditch practice.”

He puts you back down and looks at your body. 

“Ouch…” He kneels down to get a better look. “When were you playing? I’ve been looking for you on the pitch in the evenings.”

“I’m banned. I’ve been going down after midnight so McGonnagall doesn’t catch me.”

“Fuck… How much training are we talking about here?” He raises an eyebrow and looks up at you.

You don’t answer. And you don’t really think he expects you to. He can tell you’ve been putting yourself through the wringer. He softly kisses every nasty bruise, welt and scratch before getting up to hold you close to him again.

You’re not sure if you’ve been in here for minutes or hours. Either way, you’re sure people will have noticed your absence. You sigh and break apart and he watches as you adjust your swimsuit and fix your soaking-wet hair.

“We should probably go and enjoy the rest of the party,” you say, feeling slightly flushed again. 

“Give me a second,” he grips the top of the wooden door and determinedly looks at the ceiling. “I can’t go back out there like this.”

“Do you want me to…?” You look down at the hard bulge in his shorts.

“I think what you need is rest,” he says and you laugh. “Nah, let’s go back - it’s probably the last night we’ll all be together. But you and I have… well, all the time in the world I suppose.”

You wait until he’s in a fit state to be seen in public again before opening the door.

He puts his arm around you, it sits comfortably on your shoulder the way it always has. “So, what’s this about Firenze?” he smirks as you walk back together.

“Oh, you know he’s the only one who can compare to you in that department.”

“Correct answer.” He squeezes your shoulders and kisses the top of your head. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

Chapter 10: Electricity

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Fuck It Friday

I was tagged by @evcndiaz a whole week ago, sorry for the delay dear. Your story makes me absolutely feral by the way and I'm going to kidnap you and hold you hostage until you finish writing it.

Oh hey speaking of Buddie and illegal car things...

Eddie finally hits the brakes and they sit there, breathing hard. His heart is still fucking racing, faster than the car, almost like it’s going to come flying out of his mouth and down the street. Buck’s twisted around, staring behind them, an almost-manic grin on his face. “Holy shit, holy shit.” He thumps the underside of the car roof and whoops. This is the moment, he thinks. You’ve got him now. You’ve got his trust. Use it. It’s odd, how for a second, he completely forgot this wasn’t real. “You’re a badass under pressure, brother,” Eddie tells him. “You can have my back any day.” Buck turns those bright blue eyes to him and it’s like being hit by a spotlight. For the first time, all that bravado melts away, and Buck ducks his head down a little, suddenly soft and happy. Eddie’s stomach does something hot and twisting. “Or, y’know.” Buck shrugs, like he’s trying to be nonchalant. “You can have mine.” Eddie grins and throws the car into gear again. “I’d better get you back before your old man yells at me for bringing you home past curfew.” Buck laughs, head tipped back, the long column of his throat wildly distracting.

Eddie "maybe if I call him brother this'll feel less gay" Diaz, everyone.

[callmearcturus]

Hey! I read your Ethan post, and since I forgot to mention that in the tags, really great take about Ethan and Claire!

Personally my interpretation of it in mi1 is that it was Jim who was having an affair with Ethan, and that Claire knew. His jealousy makes more sense to me if he's projecting. He already is having a relationship with one much younger agent with Claire, so why not two? Plus, we know he's the one who recruited him, and there's Kittridge's weird tone when he tells Ethan that he knows how much Jim mattered to him. And it complicates Ethan's relationship with Claire, because he sees her as the victim she is, but she's also a perpetrator.

Anyway, that would leave Ethan with a huge fear of doing the same to anyone, and a lot of self blame

i am always here to talk about Ethan Hunt, my god

that's an interesting take and honestly works really well. there is so much Vibes about Jim and Ethan. I have watched the sequence at the grand central terminal where they have tea and talk about Prague so many fucking times because that entire sequence feels like a knife slowly pressing down. the constant use of close-ups is amazing tbh.

there is something eminently and constantly uncomfortable about Phelps and Ethan's relationship thru the entire thing. any time they talk, it's sinister and unsettling, and the feeling that Ethan is slamming his foot down on a missing stair is pervasive.

(hilariously the first time i watched MI1, i saw Jon Voight and was like "oh he's the villain, natch." and then "OH SHIT I'M SORRY HE DIED, whoops" and then "OMG I WAS RIGHT" which was v fun.)

the dynamic I picked up on was more of a weird threesome vibe though but kind of for the exact same reasons you point out. Ethan is a massive Ethical Slut in MI1 and seems to like threesomes, and to me it feels like he got drawn in as a third to Claire and Phelps' relationship. because yes to Kittridge's weird question and yes to the weird sexual dynamic of Phelps and Claire, esp in the ending.

so when Phelps fakes his death and Claire is playing the mourning widow, the way she... draws Ethan in, making him party to her sorrow, the way she leans on him, the vibe of "we are the two left behind" is just a masterful manipulation that feels rooted in prior experience together. I am OBSESSED with the scene when Ethan just returned from seeing Phelps and she kisses his hand, it's like watching a bear trap snap down on Ethan and makes me wanna scream at him to run the fuck away to the hills, get OUT OF THERE.

Punct called MI1 a psychosexual knot and that's honestly the ONLY way I can categorize it now. it's great.

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

"we should be shaming both parties" have you watched any of the footage from October 7th? I'm not talking about the death and mutilation, but the stories and interviews of soldiers and police officers (hell, one Rabbi shot in the face who was out on the streets trying to protect civilians) who were first on the ground trying to respond to the attack?and when they show the actual body camera footage from the attack? I'm in disbelief there wasn't MORE of friendly fire, the situation was utterly chaotic

oh sorry man, I actually haven't.

to be brutally honest, those stories do not make it over-here in Australia and I do not subscribe to any newspapers I read the news though I just don't subscribe to any, why would I? most of them are like so much money and I read them via archival sites anyway.

especially Israeli sites my god why are they all money, I do not have the spare change and the newspapers clog my emails up lol.

I really should start advertising that I am in fact Australian and usually don’t have much news about anything the ABC doesn’t think is interesting. Ugh not listening to sky news or 9 news Ew.

I unironically get my Israeli news from my Israeli moots, lol

(btw you need a tone tag for this I have zero idea what your tone is, if it’s lighthearted or serious or angry I have zero idea. You need to clarify, I usually am pretty good with figuring out tone but it’s a bit confusing. Thank you for your understanding)

We were a bit high strung to shit over the past 2 days, turns out we have triggers I did NOT know about.

And was ping ponging between incredibly suicidal and not, lol we are NOT okay. This happens sometimes!

anyway, I phrased it a bit wrong. I still have a lot of trouble putting my thoughts into text, I have problems lol 😂

genuinely though it’s a freaking miracle I regained so much of my thought and brain processing skills after having covid. I still have BAD episodes of brainfog and I start stuttering and blanking on the simplest of things.

at least it doesn’t feel impossible to think anymore lol, I genuinely completely Forget what I was talking about sometimes. My short term memory goes to shit sometimes genuinely.

I honest to god completely forgot my whole thought process for the first tag, it’s like genuinely unrelated to the rest of them but yeah what I said was actually shitty I realize now.

whoops I completely apologize and thanks for bringing it up, I can admit my faults. I’ve just had a fucking ROUGH 2 days, rough and honestly fully my fault I shall do better in the future.

also do please drop the news articles! I have zero idea which ones your talking about and would love to read more about it, sorry for my actions I’m genuinely head empty right now and have been going through some shit.

this always happens, we get like really emotional and have some of the brainfog and just say bullshit. Because I genuinely forget wtf I was talking about and then also I misread things a lot? So yeah my fault I’ll be better in the future, all the brain stuff usually isn’t THAT bad but when multiple different things are happening at once WOOF the brain stuff is bad.

At least this time it wasn’t a paranoia spiral or something.

long covid fucking sucks + dyslexia + ADHD + dissociation

I really have bad short term memory problems at times.

blanket statement, I genuinely have really fucking bad language processing problems that flare up at the strangest of times.

usually when we are sick or ill, but over the last 2 days we were pretty unwell + having some mental health problems.

I do need to keep explaining this because genuinely it is BAD at times, sometimes I cannot string together a coherent thought or sentence without just fully blanking and taking a minute to actually try and collect my Thoughts.

usually I completely and utterly forget what I was thinking.

it’s genuinely that bad.

I honest to god just forgot what I was going to say, anyway thanks for bringing this to my attention I will edit the reblog as soon as my brain starts working again.

I hope to hear more from you soon!

[jazwritesalot]

mother tongue

Pairing: Utsushimi Camie/Jirou Kyouka. Camie/Jirou Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia Rating: Mature Word Count: 4.268 Tags: nudity, implied sexual content, imprisonment, implied KiriBaku, Cyberpunk

Link to AO3

Summary: Written for the 2022/2023 NOVA PULSE Zine/ @novapulsezine

The first time she laid eyes on her, she was taken aback by just how beautiful she was. Sure, meeting one another during a client call gone wrong probably wasn’t the best place for a romance to start, but damn it, who was Jirou to choose her fate?

“Overhaul, you rat bastard. Why is a Shiketsu rep here?” she seethed into the comm, blood boiling even more when all she got back was a sinister chuckle. 

“Whoops? My bad.” The voice was as distorted as always, making it hard for Jirou to pinpoint who exactly was behind the dastardly mask of Overhaul and the Hassaikai. Before she could bark out any more questions, the line went dead, vision filling with the infamous mask. 

“That mother fucker.” Now she was stuck in public with a member of Shiketsu’s mod team. If Endeavor were to hear about this. Scratch that—she knew he knew. That asshole had eyes and ears everywhere. Fuck.

“Well, aren’t you just a cutie?” the blonde teased, making herself more comfortable in the booth. 

“Why are you so calm about this? Overhaul could start a war between Yuuei and Shiketsu at this rate.” Hell, the plan was probably already in motion, if Jirou were to take a guess. 

“I’m just along for the ride, darling. Besides, I killed comms with Inasa the moment I saw Overhaul wasn’t here. What, and who, I do in my free time is my business, and mine alone.” The cheshire-like grin and her words made Jirou run hot, her face flaming despite the cool temperature of the restaurant. She should be rational! She’s the head rep for Yuuei, for All Might’s sake! But, as she shot a quick glance at the other woman, she felt herself falter. Shouldn’t she be allowed some fun and freedom herself?

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m about to enjoy a nice meal and put it on his tab. Whatcha think? Care to join a lonely ol’ woman?” The wink sent her way made her pause. She could enjoy a day to herself, right?

“To hell with it,” Jirou sighed, turning off her own comm and grabbing the wine glass. “To Overhaul, for fucking us both over,” she toasted, loving the sound that come from the other lady. Her laugh was just as beautiful as she was. 

“To us. And the world of possibilities that await.” As they clinked their glasses together, Jirou came to the realization that 1) she didn’t know this woman’s name, and 2) she didn’t care because she was already smitten. She was royally fucked. 

The next morning found Jirou waking up next to the blonde—whose name was Camie—with her comms still killed. Fuck. She was about to get her ass chewed for this. Not only did she fail to do what she was assigned to do, she went off and fraternized with the enemy without checking in at all. Endeavor was going to have her head, if Iida didn’t get to her first. 

Gathering her clothes, she gave a quick kiss to Camie’s forehead before redressing and sneaking out of the plush penthouse suite; Shiketsu really cared for their reps, it seemed. As soon as she was out of the building, she turned the comms back on and prepared for the torrent. 

“Do you have any idea how worried we were about you?” Iida’s voice came flooding in first, making Jirou have to bite back a groan. Of course it would be Iida. 

“Sorry Tenya. I forgot.” She needed to get back to her hole in the wall and take a shower, the grime of night catching up to her. 

“Forgot? You don’t just turn your comms off and forget to turn them back on, Jirou!”

“Oh come on, Iida. Kacchan used to turn his comms off all the time,” Midoriya’s voice chimed into the call, which made Jirou breathe a sigh of relief. If anyone could calm Iida down, it would be him. 

“And may I remind you that your brother defected from Yuuie to live a life of crime? Not a shining example, Midoriya.” Jirou could practically see Iida’s hand moving through the air in his signature chop. 

“I don’t need to be reminded, thank you very much. Just cut Jirou some slack, okay? I’ve been netrunning and it seems as though Overhaul is fucking both us and Shiketsu over. It’s not her fault that yesterday was botched.” 

“I’m sure that’s what Shiketsu wants us to think,” Endeavor cut in, causing the conversation to come to a halt quickly. Of course he would be listening to their comms. Why wouldn’t he be? 

“No, sir. Midoriya is right. Overhaul—” 

“Jirou, I would like to see you in my office. Now.” Endeavor’s command cut Jirou off before the call went dead for all parties involved. Jirou sighed loudly, turning away from the door of her apartment complex and heading down the street toward Yuuei’s headquarters. So much for getting a shower in before having to deal with her boss’s bullshit. And she was pretty sure she smelled of stale sweat and fruity perfume. Fuckin’ fantastic. 

As she did her walk of shame through the doors of Yuuei, Jirou mused about how horrible the company had become since All Might’s retirement. She missed his jovial disposition and the way that he actually had a passion for all things tech. She could tell that Endeavor was just in it for the money—he couldn’t give a shit about making sure the tech was good. So she didn’t blame Bakugou one bit for disappearing deep into the net. She yearned to be able to do that herself, but she had no idea how to even go about it. 

“Maybe one day . . .” she muttered to herself as she stepped out of the elevator and stopped short in front of her boss’s office. It was now or never, she supposed. 

“Come in, Jirou,” his voice boomed through the door before she could even knock. She steeled herself, pushing the wooden doors open and coming face-to-face with her boss. The man sat intimidatingly behind an oak desk, hands folded under his chin, his cybernetic eye piercing through her. She was pretty sure he was reading her vitals, looking for any sign already that she was pulling a fast one on him.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. But, how could she not be timid around him? She had heard horror stories of the business executive from Todoroki. Of how callous and cruel he could be, especially when he didn’t get his way. And she was sure that what she was going to tell him would enrage him. 

“Why did you cut your comms with everyone yesterday?” Blunt. That was one thing she appreciated about the asshole—she wouldn’t have to waste her breath on idle conversations. But she found herself floundering. What would she tell him that he would believe?

“Overhaul had me cut comms to make sure I wasn’t double crossing him.” The lie rolled easily off the tongue. 

“Nice try. After you went AWOL, he reached out to me, stating that you never met with him at the restaurant.”

“That lying sack of . . . he was the one who never came! It was a set up! The only one who met me there was a Shiketsu rep, who also had been told to meet that slimy bastard there.” She was seething. What a lowlife they were dealing with! 

“You expect me to believe that it was a set up when you show up to my office covered in hickeys and reeking of sex and perfume? Get a grip, Jirou.” 

It was a slap to the face, but one that she couldn’t say she didn’t deserve. If only she had left Camie’s place earlier, maybe then she would have had a chance to make herself presentable before diving headfirst into the shit storm that was dealing with Endeavor.

“Your silence proves a point. But if you’re insisting that we’ve been set up, then the only logical response would be to believe that Shiketsu was the one orchestrating it so they can sweep the sale from beneath our feet.” A sharp glare cut off the protests that were bubbling up from her. “I’m going to move Shouto to the Overhaul deal.”

“But sir, with all due respect, that’s my area of expertise, and my sale, that I’ve been working on for months.”

“Should have thought about that before fraternizing with the enemy, Jirou. Now, leave.” The finality of his statement caused her to quit fiddling with her ear mods and stare at him in shock. Months of work all down the drain because of a lying bastard and nepotism. Fucking fantastic.

Jirou stormed out of the office with tears fresh in her eyes. She ignored a call from Midoriya, not wanting to deal with his questioning at this moment. She didn’t want to deal with anyone from Yuuei, and if she were being completely honest with herself, there was only one person she was willing to be around right now. But she couldn’t now, could she?

As life would seem to have it, she could. Camie was the first one to initiate contact with her, the multitude of emojis making Jirou laugh out loud to herself in her hole in the wall. Jirou continued to ignore calls from Midoriya, Todoroki, and Iida, opting instead to text with Camie and occasionally call her just so she could hear the blonde’s voice. It wasn’t like Jirou was falling for her or anything. (A lie, she knew, but she wasn’t ready to admit it to herself yet).

A month had passed since the failed mission, and Jirou was on cloud nine. Things had become more steady with Camie, up to the point they were planning a quick elopement. Never before had Jirou felt so connected to someone in such a short amount of time. And who was to say she was moving too fast? Everything else in her life was spiraling, so shouldn’t she be allowed to have a shred of happiness?

Their second official meeting came, and with it brought two visitors. Jirou didn’t have to do much to convince Todoroki to join her as a witness to the handfasting. . . he took it as an opportunity to piss his father off more. And with Camie came one of her best friends and fellow coworkers, Inasa. 

Jirou probably should have worried about being on the seedier side of town, especially since they found their priestess through questionable means . . . the Dominatrix looked at the two of them like she wanted to eat them alive. But, a priestess is a priestess, especially in dire situations.

The ceremony was small and quick, the two of them exchanging vows and a passionate kiss while the two men watched the union, their own brands of excitement shining through for the women. As they left the shoddy altar located in the back room of an even seedier brothel, their smiles were contagious. They were married! Sure, they were young. And sure, they barely knew one another. But that’s the crazy thing about love . . . it makes one jump headfirst into asinine situations.

The shitty thing about getting married so impulsively was that they weren’t able to have a honeymoon like they so desired. They both still had work to attend to the next day, even if Jirou had been delegated to errand girl now that she was kicked off the Overhaul deal. It just meant that they had to make use of what little time of their wedding night they had left.

They bid the men farewell, Camie picking Jirou up in her arms as they walked through the threshold of her cozy penthouse apartment, eager to get the celebrations started. And who was Jirou to stop her beautiful bride?

The next morning came with a dull headache from too much liquor and being met with a radiant smile.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Camie teased, leaning forward to steal a kiss from Jirou that left her breathless and craving for more time. But that was the bitch of it . . . time. It wasn’t long before they would have to part ways, pretending to be enemies to those who had control over them. It just wasn’t fair.

“We should leave,” Jirou blurted out in a panic as the two of them dressed. Camie cocked her head to the side, reminiscent of the puppy that Jirou had long ago, waiting for her to further explain herself. “We should go off grid. So deep into the net that no one can find us. I hate having to pretend that I can’t stand you. I hate that these corporations have us so twisted up in their webs that loving one another is a crime. I fuckin’ hate it, Camie.” Jirou was sobbing at this point, but she couldn’t help it.

Camie wrapped her arms around Jirou, pulling her into her ample bust, and shushed her while wiping away her tears. “I’d be down, babe. But it’s not as simple as just running away. You and I both know that. Lemme see what I can do with some of my sources, alright?” Jirou could only nod her head, hoping that somehow, someway, Camie was going to be able to get them out of this mess.

They returned to their lives outside of their bubble of bliss, Jirou dreading work as always. And then there was Midoriya, who was eyeing her too critically. Always looking like he knew too much information all the time. Like he could see into her very being.

“Jirou, we need to talk,” he urged, pulling her into a dimly lit conference room and locking the door behind him. All she could do was cock her brow at him and wait as patiently as she could as he muttered under his breath for minutes on end.

“I was running the net this morning, checking on Shiketsu lines per Endeavor’s request, and I came across this: Shiketsu is preparing to siege Yuuei,” he stated bluntly. “I’m not entirely sure what happened, but Overhaul attacked them. Told them he was put up to it by Endeavor. Now they’re livid and preparing a counterstrike.”

“So? Let the bastard get what he deserves.” Jirou couldn’t even begin to fathom why this was her problem.

“Overhaul attacked Camie, Jirou. I’m not sure how critical of a condition she’s in, but he used her as a weak link.” Static filled Jirou’s ears. Her beloved, she couldn’t be. Could she? Mere hours ago they were intertwined in bed, and now she’s been hurt? Because of some stupid corporate game that should have been called off from the moment Jirou tried to warn Endeavor about Overhaul? 

She was hurt. She was livid. And most of all . . . she wanted revenge. 

“Jirou, come to my office now,” Endeavor’s voice called to her via comms and she was more than ready to go face the bastard. 

“Jirou! Be careful!” Midoriya called after her as she stomped away, but she didn’t pay any mind to what he was saying. What’s the worst that he could do to her anyway? She stormed into his office, fire in her veins. He glared at her over the expanse of his desk, but this time she wouldn’t stand down.

“What did you want to see me about now?” she asked in a clipped voice. What she wanted to do was leave, find Camie, and make sure her wife was alright. Was that too much to ask?

“How long have you and Utsushimi been trapezing under my nose?” 

“That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business, Kyoyka. Especially when her specialty is creating corruption software.” Jirou scoffed out a laugh, knowing full well that her wife’s specialty was actually creating anti-corruption software, but of course Overhaul would feed some bullshit like that to try and create a further rift between the two companies. 

“And what if she did create that? How does that have anything to do with me?”

“You’re too close to her, Jirou. She’s corrupted you, and I won’t stand for it.”

“She hasn’t corrupted me at all, you asshole. Don’t talk about my wife like that.” Fuck. She didn’t mean to say that. Endeavor’s eyes widened and she knew that she had royally fucked herself over. 

“That’s it, Jirou. You’re too much of a liability now. It’s time to do what I should have done at the beginning of this operation.” He pushed a button on his desk, one that Jirou was all too familiar with. Surely he couldn’t be calling security on her? Armed guards entered the office, surrounding Jirou and cuffing her despite her protests and resistance. 

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but it’s for your best interest.” The bastard didn’t even sound sorry at all as she was led to the basement of the facility, past a wide-eyed Midoriya, a shocked Iida, and a blank-faced Todoroki. She was shoved roughly into the cell, being treated more like a criminal than an employee, and once again she found herself wishing that she could just escape the hellscape that her life had become. 

She wasn’t sure how long she had been down in her prison cell—time seemed to blend together to the point that she didn’t even care how long she had been there. It wasn’t like she was allowed any visitors. She was an employee, and the bastard couldn’t even pop for a cush place for her to rot. Dickhead. At this point she even missed Iida’s antics. Most of all, she missed Camie. Her comms were jammed down here, and after the first night of trying, she gave up trying to reach out to her. If she was even alive. Midoriya’s words of her being attacked kept playing through her mind, plaguing her. They should have never gone into work that morning. Maybe then their situations wouldn’t be so fucked. 

She was sitting, wallowing in self-pity, when she heard a commotion outside of her cell. Indifference and apathy ran through her—maybe Shiketsu finally attacked, ready for their revenge. Hell, maybe it was Overhaul and his crew. Maybe they would end things for her quickly and she could finally reunite with her beloved. 

“I think she’s in here.” Todoroki’s voice rang out, causing her to sit up in confusion. Why would he be down here? The door to her cell slid open and apprehension crept up her spine. What if it was a trap? She had no reason to distrust her friend, but she was still cautious. Especially when Inasa entered the room, his hulking frame filling up the tiny space. 

“What are you doing here?” Confusion laced her tone. She met the man only once, but she was surprised to see Todoroki trusting him so fully and wholeheartedly. 

“Came to rescue you!” His voice was booming, taking up as much space as he was.

“We don’t have much time before my father figures out what we’ve done. Come on Jirou.” Todoroki’s words brooked no argument and she found herself nodding, following along as they ran past knocked out security guards. 

“Why are you two working together?” Jirou finally asked as they cleared yet another level of the building, Todoroki in the lead as he led them to freedom. 

“I owed Camie a favor. And I’ve known Inasa since high school. Since before the League.” This was news to Jirou, and as much as she wanted to stop them and make them tell her what the hell was going on, she knew that they were working on borrowed time. 

“We need to get her to Midoriya quickly. The time for the extraction is closing in, Shouto.” Extraction? What the hell was going on??

“I’m aware. We just need to get outside and then Midoriya will take it from there.” They rounded the corner and came face to face with another set of guards. Fuck. 

“Keep going! I’ve got these small fry!” Inasa’s yelling was accompanied by the hissing of his hands turning into canons, a large gust of wind exploding out of each to knock down the sentries. As fascinated as Jirou was with his tech, she had to look the other way and keep running alongside Todoroki. She wasn’t going to squander this chance at freedom.

They cleared the last door, the polluted skies a welcomed greeting to her. Midoriya wasn’t the one waiting for them, however. Instead, it was Iida, who was already on his motorcycle, the engine revved and waiting. 

“Tell Camie I say hello,” Todoroki stated as she hopped on behind Iida, and her heart skipped a beat. Camie, her beloved. She was safe! Before she could respond, Iida took off, zipping through the streets. The neon signs were but a blur as he weaved in and out of traffic, leading her further away from the heart of Mustafu toward the slummier districts. The ones where people went to disappear. 

“Nice to have you back, Jirou,” Midoriya’s voice filled her ears as the comms finally escaped the jammer from Yuuei. 

“Nice to be back. Now, you gonna tell me what the hell is going on?” 

“Not enough time right now. Iida, you’ve got 4 kilometers to go. Make sure to get her to us in one piece.” At that, Jirou finally looked behind her and was shocked to see Yuuei’s tower engulfed in flames. Guess Shiketsu finally did strike. Panic for Inasa and Todoroki briefly passed through her, but she quickly stifled it. They were resourceful—there was no way they’d let themselves get caught. 

Iida turned a corner down a dark alleyway in the heart of what had to be the League’s territory, and Jirou felt her heart jump to her throat. Just what had Midoriya planned for her?

“It was nice knowing you, Jirou. Please take care.” Iida was stiff and formal as ever, but she could sense the tears he wouldn’t shed in front of her. His words felt like a death sentence as she dismounted the bike and made her way further down the alley. All fears went out the window at the sight of an uninjured Camie standing next to a frantic looking Midoriya. 

“Camie!” Jirou cried out as she ran toward the other woman. Camie’s face lit up, embracing Jirou the moment she was close enough. The smell of incense and perfume surrounded her, filling her with warmth and comfort as she closed the distance with a passionate kiss. 

“I thought I’d, like, never see you again, babe,” Camie gasped as they finally pulled apart, breathless. 

“Same. I’m so glad you’re alright. What even happened?” Jirou wanted answers. She wanted to know just how much revenge she needed to take against Overhaul when this was all said and done. 

“As much as I know you want to hear the story, we don’t have the time right now. I need to get you to the extraction point ASAP, otherwise he’s gonna kill me,” Midoriya cut in, ruining the romantic moment. 

“Who will kill you?” Great, just who did they make a deal with that made Midoriya terrified? He chose to ignore her question, leading the two of them further out from the district and closer to the ports. Once they reached their destination, she felt her heart drop out of her ass. There was no way . . .

“Oi! Fucker! Took you long enough!” Bakugou barked out as he stomped toward them. The ship behind him was huge —how in the name of All Might did port authorities not see it coming? 

“Sorry Kacchan! There was a hiccup at the office.”

“I’m sure Baldy and Icy Hot fucked something up. No surprise there,” he scoffed before looking over at Camie. “Tits, what a displeasure to see you.” 

“Don’t be mean, Baku-babe! You’ve missed me!” Camie pouted, which caused Jirou to snicker, even though she was confused as hell. Just how many of her friends did Camie actually know?

“Yeah, like a hole in the head.” He looked at Jirou then. “Good to see you again, Ears. Been a while.” What a fucking understatement. Last time she saw him, he was defecting for a life of crime and passion with the notorious Blood Riot. Realization dawned on her the longer she looked at him. That meant . . .

“Welcome to your new home, you heathens.” His grin was manic, and the energy was contagious. “Make your goodbyes quick, Deku. We gotta scram before the shields collapse. Sparky can’t seem to figure out why the fuck they keep crashing.” 

“Please be safe, you two. It was nice to meet you, Camie. And Jirou, I’ll miss you. But you’ll be in good hands. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me.” Midoriya’s sincerity made Jirou tear up as she squeezed him close briefly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, stepping back and taking Camie’s hand in her own. As they boarded the ship behind Bakugou, Jirou felt the weight of the world fall off her shoulders. Finally, she was free of the expectations that her life had pressed down on her with. And now she could live in peace with her beloved. As they prepared for launch, she placed a kiss against Camie’s hand, thankful that she could spend this new eternity with her. Wherever this crazy life was about to take them, she was ready to face it head on with her wife by her side. As Mustafu became a blur in the distance, she realized that this was it. She was finally free.

[irlkenku]

My friend said "what if the darksaber was evil and made Din haunted, but also what if Boba was just kinda chill with it"

inspired by this comment from @keldabekush

and the AU was created by @kyberpistol

boba ref here bc it made me laugh

[dawnleaf37]

HAPPY 5 YEARS OF THE SACRIVERSE YIPPIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[luffysbasement]

Hey Messy do ya like angst?

.....no 🧍🏾‍♀️

[blazingflareon]

clockwork was my fav character so that obviously meant my self insert somehow had something to do with him. hence star was literally the master of space (because ’time and space’. yknow.) which. didn’t even come out of nowhere bc star has always had space/dimensional magic of sorts but i really said ‘my oc is basically a god :)’ now to be fair i’d do something similar now bc cw is still my fave character but like. not on ‘master of space’ levels 

also they were a sonic/mlp oc back then which was explained away with ‘space magic = alternate dimensions = crossovers’ so yknow. all sorts of wack.

anyway i like the doodle so im posting it lol

[starbuck]

Some new research updates on my boy, James Heath, AKA the sailor from New York buried on St. Paul Island, Alaska: 

1. His reasoning for joining the Navy seems to be that his step-father was abusive which is really upsetting but I’m happy that he found an escape.

2. He had a “goddess liberty” tattoo on his right forearm that he got somewhere around 1885, which coincides with the statue of liberty being assembled in New York City, where he was living at the time.

3. One of his friends who was with him when he died was named John McKearney and he was Gunner’s Mate 2nd Class which means they probably worked together a lot.