#i see you james from fallout 3

[the-boroughh]

i have found it- my favorite bts photo of the prequels✨

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 3.

Summary: Your second year at Oxford brings with it Farleigh, much to your delight, and you get to learn about Farleigh's personal nemesis (which he rolls his eyes at every time you call him that) Oliver. It turns out Oliver's actually very lovely, and does Felix quite the favour one unassuming morning. Farleigh's not happy to see him again, but Felix is.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: heavy drinking by everyone at the pub including the reader, and 'dog' being used to demean the reader once.

A/N: 5101 words. much longer than the last ones, and we finally have oliver!! very excited to FINALLY be able to write their weird little fuckin dynamic at oxford, i love them all very much. im a bit unhappy with the pacing of the beginning but i like how it picks up once oli is introduced, but also the bar scene is SO LONG and i will not apologise i love them your honour. id be mighty grateful for any feedback or if you have any thoughts in general about the story, i stare at so many kind asks in my inbox lovingly, i will answer them very soon i promise!! also this is so unedited, sorry lol.

Taglist: @strangemaximoff @renaissance-mama @tsach @malscorner @xhoneymoonx134 @yelchinweasleylothbrok @tarriea @florencediet @butitsbetterifyoudoittoem @belladonnadarksshade @fandom-multiamory @snazzynacho @jubileexoxo @soocore @be-lla-vie @nightingale2124 @willow-sages @null4ndv0id @gracieluvthemoon @day2dream @marvellover98 @navixfr @bitxhinthecomments @daintylovers @alesunsets @noturningbacknow @d0llysposts @alilcloudy @callsignwidow @moviequotes23 @325575 @bonnieblue0606 @osoqueen125 @hot-dino-nuggies @darkness-falls-xo @mattymurderdocks @flowerecs @weepingwitchofthewest @ilovemydinoboi @marsmallow433 @king0flies @cashtons-wife

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At first you don't notice him for who he is. At first you hear about Farleigh's insufferable tutoring partner. At first, Oliver Quick means absolutely nothing to you.

The most important part of your second year of college is that Farleigh has finally conceded to joining you and Felix at Oxford. Once, during the last Summer break, while Felix had been off confronting his at-the-time good friend Eddie, after Farleigh had told him Eddie and Venetia had been sleeping together, you and Farleigh had gotten high in the maze to avoid the fallout.

Since the Cattons were paying for his education, he'd admitted that he wanted to remove himself as much as possible from his mother's legacy and memory and the guilt Sir James held about his sister. It would be hard to do at a college where he would be a legacy student because of his mother's attendance. You think you partly understood; certain people, usually staff, liked to kiss your ass when they found out about your own legacy status and the people your parents became, you're not so sure they'd treat Farleigh the same, all things considered.

But he's out of options.

Sometimes you're not sure what to make of Farleigh; his strange place in the Catton family was never something they seemed to like to discuss around you, but Farleigh was far more candid about it. So when he pulls these stunts, gets himself kicked out of schools, puts himself in precarious positions despite how you knew he genuinely enjoyed academics, especially literature, you can't help but wonder why.

"Don't try and pathologize it," you could hear him rolling his eyes as he attempted to scale the minotaur statue in the middle of the maze. Looking up at him from where you're laying in the grass, you watch him rise above the walls into the sunshine. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe he should stop, get down, be safe, but he looks far more content up there, on the edge. Maybe he feels freer up there, even if he knows it's not true.

So now he's with you and Felix at Oxford, a first year only academically, he slots perfectly into the group of friends you'd both already managed to collect.

The point is, you have no idea that of everything that happens in those first few weeks of your second year, the parties, the hook ups, the social dances you found yourself doing, that the guy Farleigh likes to complain about from his tutoring sessions - Oliver, Farleigh always says it with an eye roll - would mean so much more to you than you'd ever expect.

Everything about the man you would come to find extraordinary, from the outside, was completely, and charmingly, ordinary. Including how you'd met him.

Felix had overslept again, and threw a pillow at the door when you'd stuck your head into his room to remind him that he had classes. You'd left yourself enough time to walk, but Felix would have to at least run if he didn't get his ass up soon, or would ride his bike instead. Its on your way, so you duck your head in to at least check it there.

What you don't expect is the unassuming man with dark hair to have a gentle, almost caressing hand on the tire of Felix's bike. When you make a confused noise, he about jumps a foot in the air.

"Sorry," he seems to shrink in from himself, recoiling from the bike like he'd been caught red handed, "just admiring." He babbles, but can't meet your eyes. For a moment, you look over him, before turning your attention to the ludicrously expensive mountain bike that Felix has always taken for granted.

"It is a nice bike," you find yourself grinning, stepping towards the bike and giving the tire a squeeze, both as a show of your own appreciation, and to test the pressure, just in case, "didn't mean to spook you..." And you trail off, prompting for his name, holding your hand out.

It hangs in the air for a moment, and the man before you gives you a proper look over. The way he holds himself, as if trying to take up as little space as physically possible, but his eyes, his gaze, oh it longed to swallow whole every detail of everything he cast it upon.

"Oliver," he says after a very long moment. Despite his demure voice, there's something deliberate, unwavering about it, "Quick," he follows it up with, "I'm Oliver Quick." And he ducks his gaze, sparing you from his intensity as you shake his hand.

"Oliver Quick," you turn the name over on your tongue; the same Oliver that Farleigh's been complaining about, you ponder, before giving him a smile, "I'm Y/N." As soon as the handshake drops, Oliver's doing that thing again, shrinking back and looking uncomfortable in the space.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around," Oliver nods but can't meet your gaze, "around campus, I mean -" Which reminds you -

"Fuck, I'm almost running late," you hissed, spinning on your heel, "sorry to run Ollie, you seem lovely!" You call over your shoulder as you bolt to class, hearing him calling out;

"No trouble," and awkwardly trailing off the further away you get, "you seem... very nice too..."

Bursting through the door to your tutorial with five minutes to spare, your lecture looks up from his desk for a brief moment. Giving him a nod, you try and slip past him to grab a seat by one of your friends, chatting near the back, when he raises his voice.

"No Mister Catton today either, I presume," he says with a sigh, and you again check you watch before plastering on an apologetic smile.

"He'll be here," you assured, "promise." The professor did not seem impressed.

Sitting next to India, she immediately greets you with a hug.

"Felix hung over?" She grins, and you anyway in respond with a smirk.

"After last night? I'd assume so."

"King's Arms tonight?"

"Of course."

When he does eventually show up, it's ten minutes late with an apology about how his bike had gotten a flat tire. The professor, just tells him to take a seat, and Felix does with many placating thanks, sliding into one of the open few open seats in the row in front of yours. Ruffling his hair, he throws a faintly guilty grin over his shoulder at you and India, telling you both not to start.

After the tutorial, you fully intend of having lunch with India, as the two of you don't have any other classes until the afternoon, the two of you walk with Felix to where he'd stashed his bike before his next lecture. Except -

"That's not yours," you look at the bicycle curiously, "I thought you had a flat."

"Had," Felix agrees, wheeling the unfamiliar bike from the rack with a grin, "bloody angel of a man lent me his."

"Of course someone just gave you their bike," India chuckles, reaching out to give Felix's shoulder a squeeze before he mounts the bike with intent to take off.

"Lent," Felix grinned back, "I'm gonna give it back."

"And what about yours?" You asked, eyebrows raised.

"He took it back for me."

"Your hero," you laughed, shaking your head at him.

"My absolute hero," Felix agreed, "I'll tell you about it later, okay? King's Arms tonight?"

And once he's away, and you and India are on your way to the campus cafe, her arm tucked in hers, she gives you a knowing, almost exasperated smile.

"You're already trying to figure out how to fix his tire, aren't you?" Her nails dig a little too much and her smile's a little too sly and her tone almost grates against a thought you don't like to consider, so you push it to the back of your mind and give an embarrassed little smile.

"Was it that obvious?"

"No, but you are," she leans in, lips almost against your ear, smile in her voice, "endearingly predictable," she murmurs against the shell of your ear, "you're always wrapped up in him."

"Right now I seem to be rather wrapped up in you," you rest your free hand on hers, tucked into the crook of her elbow, taking her hint and lowering your voice to something flirty.

"And make darling Felix wait?" She teased in response. Instead of answering her properly, you ask her back to your dorm under the guise of lunch and she happily accepts.

The bike shop is closed and Felix has class and you can't even be sure if this supposed bike saviour has even returned Felix's bike by now; there's no waiting, but India likes feeling prioritised, so you keep all that to your self. India likes to feel important in Felix's life. Anyone who Felix spends even a little of his time and attention on ends up rather addicted to that feeling, to feeling special to Felix Catton, and India is one of the many who have picked up on your own importance to the man himself.

So you're not dating India. You're also not not dating India; you're a placeholder of sorts, which would be cruel to you if you didn't like her well enough or if you weren't satisfied taking your fun with her. It would also probably be cruel to India if she knew the truth, that Felix thought she was hot and wasn't ready to commit to maybe dating her, but that he was getting that way he sometimes got about people, that he wanted them around, wanting to not share them, but without devoting himself to them. That's where you come in. A placeholder. A proxy. An almost. Someone who makes this pretty girl feel important and close to Felix. Someone Felix isn't worried about falling in love with India even while keeping her happy and around.

When you arrive late to the King's Arms with your own around India's shoulders, Felix lights up while Farleigh, from beside him, narrows his eyes with a smirk.

"Cute shade of lipstick," he says slyly, even as he moves over at Felix's insistence to fit both yourself and India in the booth beside him. Farleigh flicks the collar of the shirt you'd thrown on in a rush to get dressed for afternoon classes, "on both of you."

"Are you jealous, Farleigh?" India grins, taking it all in stride as you pull your collar out with your thumb to try and inspect it. India's lipstick was smeared faintly against the collar from where she'd been enthusiastically kissing her way down your jaw a few hours earlier.

"Of course," Farleigh's sly smile widens to a cocky grin, and he winks at her, while she leans over you to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth with a wicked grin.

"Right in front of her partner?" Annabel, Felix's latest fling was on his other side, reaching over Felix to shove Farleigh's shoulder with a scandalised laugh.

"Not really together," India mused, even as she shifted to lean heavily against you, her arm around you and tucking herself up by your side. You nodded in kind, shrugging as Felix had to hide his laughter in his pint.

"And besides," Farleigh declares in a voice you knew all too well, "if anyone knows how to share it's Y/N," with a cheshire-cat smile and making a show of putting his hand far up your thigh under the table. Surprised by the outright boldness of it all, Felix, who had been trying to take a sip to cover his amusement, ends up snorting beer out of his nose as he laughs, which sets the whole table off.

It's later in the night, several rounds of drinks and plates of chips, when you finally remember to ask Felix about his bike. There's this look in his eyes as he recounts the details, how he'd somehow gotten on the wrong side of something small and sharp when he'd been found by his 'absolute hero'.

"Ollie," he says brightly, "Ollie - Oliver - something, I don't -" he's babbling, and though he doesn't at the time, both yourself and Farleigh react, though in vastly different ways.

"Oliver?" Farleigh draws out the name with disdain, like it's done him some sort of personal affront, or set off a bad smell, judging by his expression.

"Don't make that face," Felix rolls his eyes, giving Farleigh a good-natured shove, but it's all becoming background noise to you as you glance over your shoulder. In your mind, all you can focus on the brief but captivating moments you shared with a blue-eyed Oliver just this morning. As if by fate, when you finally come back to reality, and realise you're staring at the bar, you see those same blue eyes staring back at you, intense and surprised.

"There he is!" Behind you, Felix's voice raises above the din of the pub with barely restrained glee, "Ollie! Oliver! Oliver!" And immediately those blue eyes snap to your attention-grabbing best friend, "come over here, mate!" Felix insists, and you drop your gaze with a faint smile.

As Felix loudly and insistently vies for Oliver's attention and company, you briefly raise your gaze, only to see the disdain on Farleigh's face having grown immensely.

Oliver. Farleigh's classmate Oliver. Insufferable tutoring Oliver. Know-it-all Oliver. 'Thus' Oliver. No regard for style in his academics or his wardrobe Oliver.

Felix's hero, Oliver.

Considering how much joy Farleigh took from ribbing you at every given opportunity, just to see your squirm for his amusement, you supposed you could take some joy from his discomfort in this moment. When he sees your smug smile he scowls at you.

"This guy's my fucking hero," you've heard that warmth in Felix's voice a hundred times over, "just telling everyone how you saved my ass today," you wonder how long it will take Oliver to fall for him too.

Oliver, for his part, plays at being abashed as the rest of the group gives him faint compliments, gaze surprisingly shallow as he takes you all in. Keeping your own eyes down for the moment, you take the cigarette from India that you'd been sharing with her. You quickly reach into Felix's jean pocket beside you for the lighter you know is there, and when you look up to light it, cigarette poised between your lips, you see Oliver's gaze momentarily focused on the lack of space between yourself and Felix, where your hand had disappeared. Felix, you know without even having to look at him, hasn't even looked away from Oliver once.

"Take a seat, I owe you a drink," Felix grins, and is already shoving the few people on his left, before you put a hand on his arm to get him to settle down.

"Could you get the next round, India?" You ask her quietly, and though she hesitates for a moment, she relents, considering it was meant to be her shout after all.

Oliver is hesitating as India stands and smooths out her skirt, heading for the bar, and finally Felix remembers that most people's worlds don't revolve around him.

"Oh, sorry, are you with friends?"

Another moment of deliberation from Oliver, before he finally relents to Felix, and agrees to join them. Looking around, there's a chair next to a table behind Farleigh that was going unused, or -

When you pat the now empty seat at the end of the booth beside yourself, you're not looking at Oliver. Chin in your hand and cigarette poised between your fingers, you're giving Farleigh a grin that's all teeth, while he looks like he's trying to stave off a sudden tension headache.

"Come here, Oliver Quick," you refuse to explain your smug smile, "I don't bite."

"Yes they do," Farleigh huffs in irate response, to which most of the rest of the group cracks up. The leather beside you shifts, and you can feel the heat Oliver radiates before you even look at him.

"Quick, Oliver Quick!" Felix, behind you, is muttering almost to himself, before adding, "wait, how did you know that?" And throwing himself practically over your shoulder as you'd turned to face Oliver properly.

"We met this morning," you say quietly, gaze fixed on Oliver's, on the way he's taking you both in. With Felix's chin on your shoulder, the two of you cheek to cheek and watching him with interest, it could be enough to send anyone else running. But his gaze isn't the shallow one he'd ghosted across the others, he's drinking this moment, and the both of you, in. Smile stretching wide across your face and you tip your head against Felix's, "just as lovely as I thought," and turning your face even slightly towards Felix means your lips against his temple, not that either of you seem to mind, "your hero."

"My fuckin' hero," Felix agrees adamantly, though you and he sit back as India approaches with a tray of pints and an exasperated look.

"And you've given up my seat," she sighs, placing the drinks on the table for everyone else to take their share. Farleigh's already passive-aggressively reached behind himself to grab the extra empty chair, and you promise to make it up to her with a heavy layer of implications that the rest of the table snickers at.

Introductions are made and drinks are had and the night carries on apace until you, at the very least, felt like you could call yourself reasonably wasted. Despite how quiet Oliver is in the general conversation, Felix makes a point of always including him, arm around your shoulders so he can lean across you to talk to him, while Oliver just tried to keep up.

Everything about Oliver shouted that these people weren't his people; his clothes, his accent, his vernacular, his very unfamiliarity with who so many of them were considering their families were often titans of industry. Still, you respected the effort he was making to keep up. Whenever even the hint of a joke at Oliver's expense could be felt in the air, Felix shut it down, and though it started out subtle, it became less so as the night wore on; the grateful look on Oliver's face, even as he tried to duck to hide it, said how much he appreciated the gesture.

It's decided almost unanimously by the time you have to buy a round that it should be the first round of shots for the table. Several more would be to come, but you were getting tequila, and all the fanfare that came with it.

Getting back to the table you find Oliver's slid into your spot by Felix. Though he tries to apologise and get up, you shush him, insisting it's fine as you sit down next to him with the tray of shots topped with lime wedges, and the shot glass half full of salt for the table the bartender had kindly provided.

"You do know this is why I was late to my tutorial this morning," Felix still helped himself to a shot glass with lime as the salt was being passed around the table.

"Salt?" Oliver frowned at the glass in front of him, "lime?"

"You've never done tequila shots before?" Farleigh scoffed, holding India's hand up in front of himself where she'd offered it to him to apply salt.

"No, I haven't," is all Oliver can say awkwardly, watching as Farleigh sprinkled a line of salt across the back of India's aloft hand, licking it up in one swift motion before he took the shot and bit the lime in quick succession.

"Salt, shot, lime," you give Oliver a nudge to bring his attention back to you.

"Salt, shot, lime," Oliver repeats, looking from his glass to the glass full of salt that Felix had reached over and brought to your side of the table, "do I have to lick the salt off of someone else?"

"Not necessarily," Felix says from his other side, while Annabel giggled and allowed him to apply salt to her hand.

"More fun that way," she adds coyly.

"Not unless you want to," your own shot glass sits untouched, salt now sitting between both your glasses.

"Do you- should I-" Oliver's stumbling over his words, fidgeting with the end of the lime.

"Lick it off their neck," Farleigh barked from across the table, and though you tried to tell Oliver that he didn't have to do anything like that, and Felix's disappointed admonishment of his cousin, the entire rest of the table, who had finished their own shots and were now invested in the drama, light up with agreement.

"You're so crass, you're gonna give him the wrong idea," Felix groaned, rolling his eyes with frustration.

"I love Y/N but I don't think there is a wrong idea about them -"

"Watch what the fuck you say about them, Farleigh -"

"Watch what I say about your fucking dog-?"

"I'll lick their neck!" Oliver announces at the top of his lungs, interrupting the vicious barb, and the way Felix had practically leapt across half the table in a sudden fury. For a long moment, tense silence hangs in the air, Farleigh half out of his chair, wearing a sneer, and Felix braced over the table with white-knuckled fists pressed into the woodgrain. Then, as Felix sits back down and things begin to ease, once again all eyes return to Oliver, who's shifting in his seat, looking at you with almost apology in his eyes, "if- if you're okay with that."

After a beat, you break into a self deprecating smile.

"I do like getting my neck licked," you laughed, and immediately angled your head and pulled the collar of your shirt to the side so he could have a better angle and more of your shoulder to apply salt. The tension dropped almost entirely as everyone but Farleigh and Felix burst out in cheers. Chatter arose again as Oliver fumbled with the salt, but you caught Felix's eyes from behind him. Tension in his brow that you longed to smooth away, and discomfort in his gaze, but when you smiled you could see him take a breath, and smile back.

"I won't bite," it comes as a surprise when you hear Oliver say this, so quiet only you can hear as he diligently applies a sprinkle of salt to the soft skin of where your throat meets your shoulder, "promise," you can't see his expression but you think you can hear him smirking. It actually sounds almost like flirting.

India's been glaring at you across the table whenever she hasn't been flirting overtly with Farleigh for the past half an hour. So you flirt back.

"Not even if I ask nicely?" You murmur back, trying to repress the thrill that the whole moment was giving you. You hear the faintest, momentary rumble of a laugh from Oliver before you feel his hand on your thigh as if to steady himself, and his tongue on your neck. It's barely a second of contact, the delicate caress of his mouth as he licked the line of salt clear from your skin. Quickly, he then takes the shot, and swallows before biting down on the lime, making a pained face as the table cheered.

His hand is still on your thigh; his grip is tight.

As he's spluttering and grinning and Felix is clapping him on the back for the effort, he's rather abashedly offering himself to you, if you'd like to repeat the same salt process on him -

"You've done enough for your first shot, Ollie," you told him with a fond nudge, happily applying salt to the back of your own hand, completing the ritual with far less fanfare. Still, when you glance past Oliver to Felix, you see the way he's regarding the newcomer, with a kind of awe and warmth. This too you know well.

Crammed so close in the booth, Felix's arm stays around Oliver's shoulders for most of the rest of the night, and while no-one can see it, Oliver's hand remains on your thigh. Sometimes he taps along to the music of the pub that you've already tuned out, sometimes he's rubbing small circles with his thumb, or give you a squeeze when he's laughing at a joke, but it never waivers.

The more drunk you become, the more you find yourself leaning into him, and you begin to tune out the conversation, focusing only on your drink, the warmth of Oliver and his hand on you, and on the sensation of Felix's hand playing with your hair since his arm was around Oliver's shoulders, and you're leaning your head against him.

Everything's become blurry, your brain is still trying to catch up after you take another shot from muscle memory alone when Farleigh starts insisting on Oliver shout the next round, and for that round to be jaeger bombs.

"We just did shots," you shake your head with a faint frown, but the movement makes you feel all kind of queasy.

"You tapping out?" Farleigh, in much better spirits considering how many he'd consumed, is all wide, challenging smiles full of teeth.

"Nope," you again shake your head, against your better judgement, "never ever ever." Everything is spinning, even with your eyes closed.

"Then you shouldn't be letting Ollie snake his way out of paying for his round," Farleigh sounds all kinds of smug, and despite how you're all kind of done with him for tonight, and Oliver is trying to insist that he's not trying to wiggle out of paying for a round, the rest of the table have apparently taken up Farleigh's crusade. They're booing him, hissing at him, while Farleigh's smugness screams social triumph; you can feel Oliver's fingers twitching on your thigh, like he wants to be fidgeting but can't bring himself to let you go.

"Fine," Oliver relents to the peer pressure, letting you go and throwing his hands in the air, "can you move a sec?" He asks, and you shuffle out to let him past, before scooting back in and back beside a once more frustrated Felix.

Farleigh argues that it's the rules of the pub when Felix asks him to give Oliver a break, but you don't really hear them. You've cleared enough space on the table in front of you to be able to cross your arms on the table, laying your head on your arms to try and see if it would help. Felix is rubbing soothing circles on your back as he argues with Farleigh, probably out of pure habit, so you try and focus on that sensation, and picking a point that you see that you can focus on.

Everything's sideways, the bar, the people, the street outside, but it doesn't matter. In the moments you find yourself focusing on Oliver in the cool light of the bar, everything else falls away. He looks antsy and uncomfortable, watching the bartender pour the shots, wallet in his hand. You'd have paid in a heartbeat if Farleigh hadn't been so insistent on attacking Oliver's pride. Everything else about him was so charmingly ordinary, perhaps that's why Farleigh was infuriated by him, and why he'd attacked Oliver's pride, one of the few things that Farleigh probably believed Oliver had of value to himself.

Tomorrow, you and Farleigh were having words.

Tonight, you wanted to somehow help Oliver without making any kind of big deal about it. Problem was, you weren't sure how. You weren't even sure if you were capable of walking in straight line right now.

"Fi -" when you turn your head to your other side, you see Felix, half finished a cigarette, with a pensive look on his face as he too was watching Oliver. When he looks at you there's a moment that the two of you share, of understanding, of compassion and a shared goal, "can you get me a glass of water?" You asked, knowing he'd take the hint. Thankfully, he smiles at you, the two of you shuffling once more so he could get out of the booth and head towards Oliver and the bar.

Leaning on the end of the booth, you wait for Felix to return before you sit back down, instead focusing on the interaction between the two men at the bar. It's not that you can hear them, but you can see the grateful but anxious look in Oliver's eyes, and the way he can't look away from Felix's smile, and something sharp and bright and intrigued lights up in your chest.

There's a moment as the interaction begins winding down, when Felix takes the tray of drinks, and looks back at your gathered group of friends. His eyes meet yours, faint flicker of familiar affection passing in the next moment as he says something else to Oliver before he's making a beeline back to the group.

"Thank you, Ollie!" He announces brightly, much to the cheer and delight of the rest of the group once the jaeger bombs are set down at the table. Caught up in the sudden influx of joy, you chant Ollie's name, clapping along, not even realising that since you'd let go of the booth you were starting to take on a lean.

"You're fucking legless," Felix crows with laughter, who had already slid back into the booth and was now taking you by the arm and sitting you back down beside himself, "I'm cutting you off, you're on the waters now," he joked, arm around you to steady you, though you weren't inclined to disagree. Thankfully, in the next moment, a water was being placed in front of you, and a cheer was once again rising from the group as Oliver rejoined you all, bashful smile on his face as everyone was lavishing praise on him for following through with buying the round.

The glass was cold and clear and faintly frosted, few ice cubes floating delicately on top of the pint of water before you, looking absolutely perfect in this golden, humid pub. Even just reaching out and holding the cold glass of water in your hands seemed to make everything a little less blurry at the edges.

As you dragged the glass towards you, surprised by your sudden craving for fresh, cold water, praise tumbles from your lips, words half blurring together, and Oliver takes his seat once more beside you.

"Ollie, you're my fucking hero."

[ms-snape]

I have a request but its totally up to you alright, if you wanna write it or not. I was hoping you could write a james x childhood bestfriend!reader fic where over the years in hogwarts they just have a fallout? Readers in love with james but james have the marauders and lily and she didn’t feel like he needed her so she moved on and found her own group of friends but reality, james felt exactly the same as reader? They meet again years later for work or smtg and it just felt right?

Request: just look up

Summary: Y/n and James fall apart but end up finding each other again

Warning: Jealousy, angst, insecure reader, blind james,fluff, happy ending, lily ad james doesn't get married, and peter is still a marauder

word count: 3320

A/N: This litteraly took me the whole night to write, cause it's my first request and i wanted it to be just perfect, and i'm not like a james stan so i didnt know how to write it properly without my inner Snape coming out but I really tried my best, the request is awesome and I loved the idea, hope u guys will like it <3

Masterlist

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The sun hung low over the Hogwarts grounds, casting long shadows of the towering castle onto the emerald lawns. Y/N stood at the edge of the Quidditch pitch, her heart racing as she watched James Potter soar through the air, his laughter ringing out like music. The Marauders were at their usual practice, and she couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing for the boy who had once been her world.

"Y/N! Come join us!" Sirius Black called out, a broad grin plastered across his face. He waved his broomstick in the air, beckoning her over.

She shook her head, feeling the weight of her unspoken feelings settle heavily in her chest. "I’m fine here, thanks!" she shouted back, her voice barely masking the sorrow that had become so familiar.

James, spotting her from above, waved enthusiastically. “You’re missing out! This new move is epic!”

“Yeah, sure! Epic!” Y/N forced a smile, but inside, she felt the ache of a friendship that had splintered. Once, they had been inseparable, sharing secrets and dreams beneath the stars. Now, James had his friends—the Marauders—and Lily Evans, the girl who had stolen his heart.

As the practice continued, Y/N turned away, her gaze falling on the Forbidden Forest in the distance. Memories flooded back—bittersweet moments of laughter and joy, now tainted by the reality of their growing distance.

“Hey!” A voice broke through her reverie. It was Remus Lupin, his warm brown eyes sparkling with concern. “You alright?”

“Yeah, just… watching,” Y/N replied, forcing her gaze to stay on the ground. The last thing she wanted was for Remus to see the sadness in her eyes.

“James has really taken to Quidditch, hasn’t he?” Remus asked, glancing at the pitch. “He’s got talent.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, her throat tightening. “He’s amazing.”

“Want to talk about it?” Remus probed gently.

“No. I mean, yes! I mean—” Y/N took a deep breath, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Can’t we just enjoy the moment? I don’t want to ruin it for anyone."

Remus nodded, his expression understanding. “Alright. Just know I’m here if you need to vent.”

“Thanks, Remus,” she muttered, grateful for his kindness. The Marauders were undeniably entertaining, but being around them felt like a constant reminder of what she had lost.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the practice ended. James landed with a flourish, his face flushed with exhilaration. “Did you see that? I almost had the snitch!”

Sirius clapped him on the back, his laugh booming. “You’re a legend, mate! Lily won’t be able to resist you now!”

Y/N’s heart sank further at the mention of Lily. She turned to leave, but a voice stopped her.

“Y/N! Wait!” James called, jogging over, his hair tousled and carefree.

“What?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

“Are you joining us to the feast tonight?” He grinned, a flash of hope in his eyes.

“Uh…” She hesitated, glancing back at the pitch where the others were gathering. “I might… have plans.”

“Plans? With who?” James’s brow furrowed, a hint of concern creeping into his voice.

“Just promised… some friends to join them,” she replied, avoiding his gaze.

“Oh. Right. Friends.” He seemed disappointed but quickly masked it with a smile. “Well, it’s gonna be a great time. You should come!”

“Maybe,” she said, her heart twisting. “I’ll think about it.”

As she walked away, Y/N felt the familiar sting of loneliness. It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to, but it never got easier. The laughter of the Marauders faded behind her, replaced by the silence of her own thoughts.

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement that evening, the enchanted ceiling reflecting the starry night. Y/N sat at a table with her new friends, a group that had welcomed her after the rift with James widened. They laughed and chatted, but her mind was elsewhere.

“Y/N, earth to Y/N!” One of her friends, Maria , waved a hand in front of her face.

“Huh?” Y/N blinked, shaking herself from her thoughts.

“Where were you?” Maria asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at the marauders table for ages.”

“Just… thinking,” Y/N replied, forcing a smile.

“About what? That Potter kid?” Maria teased, nudging her playfully.

“Of course not,” Y/N snapped, then softened. “I mean, maybe a little. It’s hard to ignore him.”

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Maria suggested, her tone earnest.

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore,” Y/N said, bitterness creeping into her voice. “He’s with Lily now. He barely even knows I exist since he met her and his new friens .”

“No, that’s not true!” Maria insisted. “He waved at you earlier!”

“Yeah, like I’m some sort of ghost,” Y/N muttered, her heart heavy.

“Alright, enough with the pity party!” Maria exclaimed, her voice loud. “Let’s enjoy the feast!”

Y/N forced herself to join in, laughing at Maria’s antics. But every time she glanced at James, who was animatedly talking to Lily, her heart cracked a little more.

Days turned into weeks, and the distance between Y/N and James only grew. The Marauders had become a tight-knit group, while Y/N found solace in her new friends. But something felt incomplete—a piece of her heart remained tethered to a boy who had once been her best friend.

One afternoon, as the leaves turned golden and the air grew crisp, Y/N sat under a tree, sketching in her notebook. The vibrant colors of autumn surrounded her, yet she felt trapped in shades of gray.

“Hey there!” a voice interrupted her solitude. It was Peter, his round face beaming. “What are you up to?”

“Just doodling,” Y/N replied, glancing up at him. “What about you?”

“Nothing much, just trying to avoid the chaos of the Marauders,” he chuckled. “You know how they can be.”

“Yeah, I do,” she said, a wistful smile touching her lips.

“Want to join us? We’re going to the lake for a bit,” Peter offered.

“Sure, why not?” Y/N closed her notebook and stood up. As she walked with Peter toward the lake, she felt a sense of camaraderie that had been missing for so long.

When they arrived, the Marauders were already there, laughing and splashing water at each other. James, with his tousled hair and carefree smile, stood at the edge, tossing stones into the water.

“Y/N!” he called, his face lighting up. “Come join us!”

“Uh, maybe later, when i'll make sure that the giant squid won't drown me” she said, her heart racing. She felt exposed, like her feelings were laid bare for everyone to see.

“Don’t be a coward!” Sirius yelled, splashing water in her direction. “Get in here!”

Against her better judgment, she found herself laughing as she stepped closer. The warmth of friendship enveloped her, but every time she caught James’s eye, she felt that familiar ache.

“Let’s play a game!” Remus suggested, his voice cutting through the noise. “How about a round of water tag?”

“Yeah! I’m in!” James shouted, diving into the lake, laughter trailing behind him.

Y/N hesitated, but the thrill of the moment pulled her in. She joined the fray, splashing and running. Laughter echoed around her, but the moment James tagged Lily, pulling her into a playful embrace, Y/N felt her heart drop.

“Nice move, Prongs!” Sirius hollered, his eyes twinkling. “You’ve got her!”

“Thanks, Pads! I’m unstoppable!” James replied, his laughter ringing out like a triumphant bell.

Y/N stepped back, feeling the laughter fade as she watched them. She could never compete with that, she thought, turning away to hide the tears that threatened to spill.

“Y/N, wait!” Remus’s voice cut through her thoughts. He had noticed her retreat. “Where are you going?”

“I just need some air,” she said, her voice shaky. “I’m not feeling well.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, concern etched on his face. “You don’t have to leave.”

“I’ll be fine,” she insisted, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just give me a moment.”

As she walked away, the laughter from the lake faded into the background. She sat on a bench near the castle, staring at the ground, trying to push away the storm of emotions inside her.

Weeks turned into months, and the rift between Y/N and James only deepened. The Marauders seemed to grow closer, while Y/N drifted further away, lost in her own world. The holidays approached, and with them, a sense of finality hung in the air.

One evening, as snow began to blanket the grounds, Y/N found herself wandering through the castle's corridors, lost in thought. She paused in front of a window, watching the snowflakes dance outside.

“Hey, Y/N!” a voice called, pulling her from her reverie.

It was James, striding toward her with an easy smile. She felt her heart flutter, but she quickly buried it.

“Hi,” she said, trying to sound casual.

“Nice night, huh?” he gestured to the snow, his breath visible in the cold air.

“Yeah, it is,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I haven’t seen you around much,” James continued, his tone more serious. “Is everything okay?”

Y/N’s heart ached at his concern, but she forced a smile. “I’ve just been busy, you know? Studying, hanging out with friends…”

“I miss you,” James said suddenly, his voice softening. “Things aren’t the same without you.”

She looked at him, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I miss you too, James, but… things have changed. You’ve got your friends, your life, and I don’t want to be in the way.”

“You’re never in the way,” he insisted, stepping closer. “You’re my best friend, Y/N. That hasn’t changed.”

“But it has,” she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “You’ve got Lily now and your new friends, and I’m… I’m just me.”

“Lily’s great,and the marauders too, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you,” James said, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N shook her head, the tears finally spilling over. “It’s just… too hard, James. I care about you so much, but I don’t think I can keep pretending it doesn’t hurt to see you with her.”

“Y/N…” James’s voice broke, his face etched with guilt and sadness.

“I need to move on, James,” she said, her voice trembling. “I need to find my own happiness, even if it means letting go of our friendship.”

James opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he reached out, pulling her into a tight embrace. Y/N felt her resolve crumble as she clung to him, tears soaking his sweater.

“Promise me you’ll still be my friend,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“I promise,” she replied, her voice barely audible.

They stood there for what felt like an eternity, the snow outside falling silently, as if the world itself was holding its breath. When they finally pulled apart, Y/N felt a strange sense of peace, as if the weight on her heart had finally lifted.

“Take care of yourself, James Potter,” she said, her voice steady now.

“You take of your self, Y/N,” he replied,

As she walked away, Y/N felt a mixture of relief and sorrow. The bond between them had been fractured, but perhaps, in time, it would heal. For now, she needed to find her own path, even if it meant walking it alone.

The snow continued to fall, blanketing the castle in a soft, silent embrace, as Y/N disappeared into the night, ready to face whatever the future held.

---

The dim lights of the Muggle bar cast a warm glow over the wooden tables and the soft hum of conversations filled the air. Y/N sat at the bar, nursing a drink as she stared into the amber liquid. It had been years since she’d seen any of her old school friends, years since she’d felt that familiar mix of camaraderie and nostalgia that had defined her youth.

“Hey, Y/N!” a voice called out, breaking through her thoughts. She turned to see Sirius Black striding toward her, his trademark grin lighting up his face. “What are you doing here, all alone? Thought you might’ve turned into a statue.”

“Very funny, Sirius.” Y/N forced a smile, though her eyes betrayed her. “Just… reminiscing.”

“About what? The time James nearly got us all kicked out for trying to charm the jukebox?” Sirius chuckled, his laughter cutting through the bar's background noise.

Y/N’s heart twisted at the mention of James. He had always been the life of the party, the one with the infectious smile and mischievous glint in his eyes. But over the years, that image had become blurred, overshadowed by his friendships and his infatuation with Lily Evans. Now, James was nothing more than a bittersweet memory.

“Something like that,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sirius studied her for a moment, his expression shifting from amusement to concern. “You okay? I know things were… complicated back in the day.”

“Yeah, complicated.” She laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness. “I guess we all drifted apart. I found my own way, made some new friends, you know?”

“Right, right.” Sirius scratched the back of his neck, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his demeanor. “But you’re back now. That’s something, right?”

“Yeah.” She glanced around the bar, watching the flickering candles on the tables. “It feels different, though. Like everything’s changed.”

“Maybe we can change that,” he suggested, his voice brightening. “How about a little reunion? Just us, like old times?”

A lump formed in her throat. “I don’t know, Sirius. It’s been ages. What if—”

“What ifs don’t matter. Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ll even buy the first round.”

“Fine,” she relented, a small smile creeping onto her face. “But only if you promise not to get us thrown out.”

“Deal!” he laughed, and for a moment, the weight on her heart lightened.

The night of the reunion arrived, and the bar was more lively than usual. The usual background chatter was replaced by the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses. Y/N stood at the entrance, her heart racing as she spotted familiar faces around a table in the back.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Peter exclaimed, waving her over.

“Glad to see you, Y/N!” Remus added, a kind smile on his face.

“Hey, everyone!” she replied, forcing enthusiasm into her voice. As she moved closer, her eyes caught on James. He looked older, more mature, but that same playful sparkle remained in his eyes.

“Y/N!” he called out, breaking into a grin that sent her heart fluttering. “You made it!”

“Of course,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Grab a drink!” Sirius nudged her toward the bar, and she complied, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

As they settled into conversation, Y/N found herself laughing and sharing stories, each moment pushing the past further behind her. Yet, every time her gaze drifted to James, the ache of lost time returned.

“Hey, you want to step outside for a bit?” James asked, interrupting her thoughts. “It’s getting a bit loud in here.”

“Sure,” she replied, her heart racing as they stepped out into the cool night air.

Once outside, the sounds of the bar faded, leaving them in the stillness of the night. Y/N glanced up at the stars, avoiding his gaze.

“So… how have you been?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence.

“Busy with work. You know how it is,” she replied, trying to keep her tone light. “And you? Still with Lily?”

James sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Not anymore. We… we broke up.”

“Oh.” The word slipped from her lips before she could stop it. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. “It was my fault, really. I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I thought… I thought I loved her, but I was just lost.”

“Lost?”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath, his blue eyes searching hers. “I thought I needed to be with her to prove something. But I realized I was just pushing away the people who actually mattered to me—like you.”

A heavy silence fell again, and Y/N felt a whirlwind of emotions. “I moved on, James. I had to.”

“I know.” He shifted, looking pained. “But I missed you. We all did. I thought I could handle everything—our friendships, my relationship with Lily—but it just made me feel more alone.”

“We already had this conversation, about our friendship, we agreed on moving on James, it was mutual” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"I know, but I didnt want this " He stepped closer, his expression earnest. “I thought you were fine without me.”

“I was trying to be,” she admitted, her heart racing. “But I missed you too.”

The tension crackled between them, and Y/N felt a pull, like gravity drawing her closer to him. “James…”

“Y/N, I—” he started, but she interrupted.

“You were busy with your life. I didn’t want to be the one left behind.”

“Lily left me because she felt I didn’t love her,” he said, his voice low and heavy. “But I did. I just didn’t know how to show it. I’ve spent too long pretending.”

“Pretending?” she echoed.

“Pretending to be someone I thought everyone wanted me to be. But I’ve changed. I want to be honest, especially with you.”

The sincerity in his voice made her stomach flip. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I still care about you, Y/N. More than I thought possible. And I realize now that I’ve always loved you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “James, I—”

“Please, let me finish.” He took a step closer, his gaze unwavering. “I don’t want to lose you again. I’ve spent so long regretting that fallout between us. I don’t want to pretend anymore, I love you Y/n”

Tears pricked at her eyes as she processed his words. “You mean it?”

“Every word,” he said, his voice steady. “I want to make this right.”

“I…love you too, and I want that too.” Her heart raced, a mix of hope and fear coursing through her. “But what if we just end up hurting each other again?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” he replied, determination in his voice. “I want to try. You mean too much to me.”

With a shaky breath, Y/N took a step toward him, closing the distance. “I’ve missed you, James. I thought I’d moved on, but I never really did.”

He reached for her hand, entwining their fingers. “Then let’s not waste any more time. We can start over.”

As they stood there, the world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them under the vast expanse of stars. The past had shaped them, but it wouldn’t define their future.

“Together?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Together,” he confirmed, his smile lighting up the night.

Months passed, and the impromptu reunion had ignited a spark that neither had anticipated. Y/N and James navigated their new relationship with care, each moment filled with laughter and discovery. They spent evenings exploring new places, sharing stories of old friends and lost dreams, rebuilding the bond that had once felt irreparably broken.

“I can’t believe we let so much time slip away,” James said one evening as they walked down a quiet street after dinner.

“Yeah, but maybe it was all part of the journey.” Y/N leaned against him, the warmth of his presence comforting. “We’re here now.”

“Right. And I won’t let you go again.” He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

As they walked together under the streetlights, Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of belonging that had eluded her for so long. The echoes of their past intertwined with the promise of a brighter future, and for the first time in years, she felt whole.

[artbyblastweave]

So, a while back I was thinking that within the Fallout chronology, there's going to be a period immediately after the war where you have a shitload of mad scientists running around the wastes, people with pre-war scientific training and resources who were disproportionately likely to have survival contingencies in place via their association with the military-industrial complex, The Enclave, Vault-Tec, or whoever else would have a pet evil scientist. For a while they're just a kind of guy you can run into. Then there's going to be a big period in the middle where that initial glut of hanger-ons have died off, actual trained scientists become as rare as unicorns, and the high-science of the pre-war era becomes the stuff of legend and superstition- this is the period where you get groups like the Ciphers from the Van Buren design doc. Then like 200 years after the fact, you'd see sufficient reconstruction of civilization that you start to get new scientists, you've got the Followers setting up an actual college in the boneyard to train people, you've got the NCR setting up The Office of Science and Industry, you've got the NCR going door-to-door looking to draft someone with theoretical physics knowledge and expecting to succeed, scientists are once again just a type of guy you can reasonably expect to run into. If we were graphing this it'd be a big inverted bell curve.

Anyway. The sheer number of scientists running around in Fallout 3 with no obvious source of training (James, Madison Li and her staff, Pinkerton, The Surgeon, Dr. Lesko, that one guy in vault 106, Julius Banfield, there are others I'm forgetting) is not unrelated to my theory that they fucked around with the intended timeframe for the game late in development.

[thegreatpapaya666]

Vox Headcanons

(I was working on these with a friend :3)

- Vox is a transgender man. - He has 11 sharks named Victor, Veronica, Vivian, Vincent, Viera, Victoria, Vance, Veer, Valkyrie, Vanessa, and Vark. - He is dating Valentino, though it is an explicitly stated "open relationship." Valentino often gets jealous of Vox flirting with other people, though, and the "open" status is subject to change on a dime. - Vox forgets to eat and sleep until either Valentino and Velvette remind him, or he passes out from exhaustion. - He puts his work before everyone else in his life, even himself. - He was friends with Alastor for a long time and gained most of his current power from working with Alastor. But after confessing his love to Alastor and his feelings not being returned, Vox didn't take the rejection well and fought him. He almost lost the fight, but Alastor chose to spare him and Valentino found him hours later. - The fallout was also caused by Vox changing as a person, being corrupted by the technological advances he was making with VoxTek. After partnering with Valentino, changing his own head from a CRT TV to a flat screen TV, using mind control to manipulate his viewers, and neglecting the quality of his products, Alastor felt like Vox was a different person. - Vox still has a crush on Alastor, though he hides it behind a facade of hatred and disgust. - Vox is an ENTJ. - He's touch starved. - Vox is horrible with kids, but connects with children on the autism spectrum. - Vox can open internet tabs in his brain, as well as view security footage and send messages. Everything he sees is recorded with high-quality video and audio. - Every interaction he's had with Alastor is saved in a folder buried deep in his files that he only opens during "alone time." - When Vox dreams, they're projected on his screen for anyone to see. He doesn't know about this. - Vox's screen gets a pink tint when he blushes. - His antennae twitch when he's overwhelmed or flustered. - Vox can show pictures and videos on his screen. - He can play piano and guitar. - When asked the question, "ass, tits, or thighs," he always picks ass. - He's somewhere on the aromantic spectrum. - Vox is always up by 5 AM and never sleeps in. - He can turn his pain, auditory, olfactory, and taste receptors on and off. - Vox had a traumatic childhood with a verbally abusive mother and a physically abusive father. - He had a brother who also went to Hell, but he hasn't been able to locate him. - Vox is a switch but prefers to top because of how much he likes being in control. - He's autistic. - When he was alive, he had a wife who he would frequently cheat on, and two children named Alice and James. - The first time Vox had sex with a man was drunk with Valentino, who was his bisexual awakening. - Vox was popular in school. - When he spawned in Hell, he changed his name from Mary to Vox as a fresh start. - He sleeps in shark themed boxers. - During game night with the rest of the Vees, when it's his turn to pick the game, he always picks Monopoly. Valentino and Velvette have yet to beat him, but they have an evil plan to cheat and make Vox cry and are going to enact it next game night. - He wears rainbow striped socks. - Vox sometimes listens to musical soundtracks while he's working. - His favorite drink is bourbon. - His favorite color is red, but he always lies and says it's blue. - Vox's favorite food is Alastor's jambalaya, but he'll never tell anyone. - He's from New Jersey. - He owns a shark onesie he wears for sleepovers. - You know those Terms of Service nobody reads when you make an account on a new website or agree to a new setting? Well Vox manipulates the fine print to be used as a soul contract if you own your soul. That's how he rose to power so quickly, because millions of unsuspecting sinners were unknowingly giving Vox their souls by signing up for Sinstagram and other apps.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ditching my friend for kicking someone out of our Discord server?

Some context before I begin. We are strictly online friends, with all of us having more than one social. I am the youngest of this group when this happened, with a friend named Yammy being the oldest, a girl named Isabella the second oldest, a girl and a boy named Lisa and James about driving age, and me, essentially the baby. There are a few other people who would not want me to talk about them here, but they’re all around Lisa and James’s age.

I met Isabella on Deviantart back in May of 2022. We hit it off almost immediately, sharing several interests and a common friend (James). About a month later, we were joking about forming a cult of kindness, and since her username had something with a chicken in it, we named it the chicken kindness coop (she changed it to coop for ethical reasons). I met Lisa, Yammy, and a bunch of other people on that server, and we would do shitpost roleplays and share vents about our real lives. I remember Isabella constantly posting vents and pictures of her life. She was homeschooled, which I used as justification for her constant messaging. Isabella was my grounding stone for a long time.

However, things started to fall apart in May of 2023. Out of the blue, I got a message in a brand new message channel named ‘Judgement Hall.’ Isabella purposefully did not give Lisa access to the channel. She wanted to kick Lisa out of the group chat because she was uncomfortable with her being around. Her reasoning was that Lisa was very religious, which we all knew about and respected. I, as a trans male, and a few other anonymous queer members were all fine with her as she was always a refreshing break from the wild roleplays and heated debates on how you should water your mochi. However, Isabella said Lisa was triggering her religious trauma. I, being an easily influenced minor, let her run her course. However, Yammy stepped in and let Lisa know about Isabella’s message. She sent a mass text out, and told us she was leaving and that this was an unfair judgement on Lisa. Here’s where I might’ve been TA. I immediately replied to her message, saying I was leaving, and asking why Isabella wanted to kick Lisa from the chat without even telling her. I then left the chat.

Later, when Yammy reached out to me, they said that James (who also had religious trauma, but was completely fine with Lisa) had reached out to Isabella. Him being one of the few people who stayed for a while without leaving or being kicked, he was in pretty much an empty server, minus Isabella’s most loyal friends and another friend who would later leave after saving some screenshots. James talked to Isabella, who deflected behind her autism and adhd diagnosis, tried to guilt trip James into feeling bad for her, and playing the victim, saying she did nothing wrong. James (who was probably 3 years younger than her, mind you) was trying to make Isabella see that banning someone from the server behind their back was not ok, but she freaked out and stopped talking. Now, we’re all still dealing with the fallout from this situation, but about a week or two ago, a mutual friend of Isabella and I told me that Isabella wanted to talk, and she wanted to feel less betrayed. Now I feel really bad, because I acted pretty abruptly, but I really don’t know. Yammy and my other friends think I’m in the right, but our mutual friend says I betrayed her and left her in the dust. I really need an outside opinion.

AITA?

(sorry for the incohesive mess)

What are these acronyms?

[honourablejester]

Some of my favourite ghoul NPCs in Fallout:

My sister and I are replaying New Vegas lately, and we recently did the Come Fly With Me sidequest again, and since I’m talking about Fallout recently and this quest reminded me how much I fucking love Jason Bright and his merry band of lunatics, I figured I’d talk about some of my favourite ghoul characters in the games I’ve played (3, 4, New Vegas). Specifically non-companion characters, no offense to Raoul. I just like some of the ghouls you just run into.

First off, since we’ve already mentioned him, Jason Bright is such a nutjob, and he is the focal point for such a fantastic, batshit quest that you have to adore him. Yes, he’s a cult leader, and yes, he’s leading the ghouls under him possibly to their deaths based on ‘visions’, and yes, he is using Chris’ delusions to help get them there (and also sends us, the player, into a very annoying set of negotiations), but. How can you not adore the idea of a non-feral glowing one cult leader who is leading his flock into space, and manages to find actual functioning rocket ships to manage it? (Well, functional if you help out and don’t sabotage them, anyway). Also, given that Atom may genuinely be an actual god in this universe, I’m not going to fully rule out the visions, especially since he had a sane enough grasp of them to realise that he was seeing somewhere so irradiated that Chris wouldn’t have survived it. But just for the quest alone, just for the sight of those rocket ships taking off and presumably baffling and/or scaring the pants off half the Mojave, I just love this guy.

Second, one of the best characters in any of the games full stop, and also in one of the best and most batshit sidequests full stop, we have Desmond Lockhart from Fallout 3: Point Lookout. Because he’s a ghoulified James Bond fighting a maniacal brain in a jar supervillain in a rivalry that has been going on since the Great War. That’s just. You cannot beat that. He’s foulmouthed and bitchy and ungrateful and an arse, and he’s fantastic. I love that the mansion you find him in is his enemy’s ancestral home, the cheek on this bitchy ghoul man. I love him. He’s just spectacular.

Third, to round out our ‘best batshit sidequests focused around ghouls’, we have Kent Connolly from Fallout 4, because who wants to play a hammy 40s-style pulpy comic book hero in post-apocalyptia today? You? Excellent! The Silver Shroud is such a fun and fantastic questline, and I also just deeply adore and wish to protect Kent. He’s so sweet and sad and gently pathetic, and he’s not remotely able for the wasteland, and he’s trying to help. A pre-war ghoul clinging to the old radio shows he used to love when the world was less overtly hellish to try and help him cope, and not doing so well, and wanting to bring that hope to other people by resurrecting an old-world hero. He’s very sad and badly adapted, but he’s very sweet, and we always wait to take his quest until we have the rifle skill levelled enough to get him out of his little situation at the end of the quest alive. Because Kent is not allowed to die.

Fourth, on a continued theme of ghouls too nice for this world and who I will cheerfully murder people to protect, we have Gob from Fallout 3. Because everybody’s fucking mean to him, including the game itself, and somebody needs to fix it. GIVE ME A QUEST TO FREE THIS POOR MAN, YOU STUPID GAME. I mean, yes, we always murder Moriarty to help him anyway, which does solve the problem, but I HATE the fact that the game lets you tell his mother he’s a slave, and then doesn’t let you fix it. You just crushed her hopes for nothing, and even if you do get him free anyway later, with no quest to do so, you can’t tell her that. I want to stab FO3 so much for that. Why do you put a poor abused, incredibly nice slave man in front of me and then not let me free him? THERE SHOULD BE A GOB QUEST. If only so I don’t accidently crush poor Carol’s spirits with no hope of then telling her better news later. Because I am murdering Moriarty for the man, I’m not going to leave him enslaved. I don’t do game mods, but if there is one mod I want for 3, it’s that one. Let me free him officially and then tell Carol about it.

Ahem. Anyway. Sorry about that. Moving on (never, I will never move on, I will hold a grudge on this forever, but howandever).

Fifth, and still on the theme of the saddest goddamn ghouls in the wasteland, there is Arlen Glass from Fallout 4. Because he broke my fucking heart and I will never get over it. Giving him that tape from his family had me sobbing. A sweet gentle toymaker and family man who was never home because of work, who talked to his wife and daughter primarily over the phone, and who was still at work when the bombs dropped and never made it home to see them at the end. Who ghoulified, and was left with that grief and regret for the next 200 years. He ripped my heart fully out of my chest. Letting him hear his family’s voices again by retrieving that holotape was one of the most impactful things I’ve ever done in these games, and it was the one moment where I desperately wanted to refuse the quest reward. We fortified the Slog to hell and back to make sure Arlen was safe. Again, would die and kill for this man without a thought.

And then, in slightly less obsessive fashion, some honourable mentions:

Captain Zao, Fallout 4. Because there is something so quietly sad about his whole situation, trapped in a tiny vessel while his crew goes feral around him, keeping watch over the ruined country he helped destroy, wanting only to go home, and relying on enemies with extremely justified grudges to help him. No one won the Great War, and Zao is proof of it. We help him, every time. All he wants is to go home, after spending more than 200 years trapped wondering how much of it is left for him to find when he gets there. What the fuck would shooting him do, in the face of that? No one won the war. Let’s just let those it destroyed find what peace they can.

The Vault Tec Representative, Fallout 4. Because I just feel so sorry for the man. You never even learn his name. He was left out to die by his company, and he knows it, and after 200 years ghoulifying and rotting, out you pop, fresh as a fucking daisy from the vault he put you in, just to rub it fucking home. It’s not the Sole Survivor’s fault, but you definitely can’t blame him for being sore.

And finally, Daisy, from Fallout 4. I want to mention her because I do love her, that of all the quests you pick up from people in Goodneighbour, hers is to try and clear out the Library, because she remembers it from when she was a girl and she’d like to see it at least not overrun, if not quite restored. I love a nice bookworm, tough enough to survive Goodneighbour, and to put her caps into trying to bring a little civilisation back to the wasteland.

But Daisy also highlights a bit … There aren’t too many important female ghouls? Ones with cool quests around them. There are quite a few scattered around the various games, sure, but not too many you can really interact with like the boys above. There are a few memorable ladies around, like Keely from New Vegas, the tough as nails scientist who survives Vault 22 in New Vegas, Carol and her partner in Fallout 3, and then Beatrix Russell, also in Vegas, who has a tiny but extremely memorable part in the ‘find hookers for the casino in Freeside’ quest, just for being a (potential) ghoul cowboy dominatrix who likes to have a good time and believes that ‘good times’ are a full-contact sport. Like. She’s pretty damn memorable.

But there is, at least in the three games I’ve played, a bit of a dearth of full-questline-attached, batshit-shenanigans-ahead lady ghouls, and that’s another thing I could wish changed. Heh.

But yeah. Ghouls are some of the best characters in these games, and they definitely have some of the best quests attached to them too. And a lot of them will break your heart as well. Heh.

I do love this universe. A lot.

[antitheticallyargumentative]

I’m going to attempt to explain why the ending of Ted Lasso re: Jamie and his dad, bothers me so much. I know a lot of other people have made posts about this, and excellent ones, too, but I also have a lot of thoughts. These are just my opinions. Feel free to disagree. Feel free to discuss with me why you disagree. I love respectful conversations.

 This is gonna be long. sorry guys.

tw/cw- James Tartt Sr., abuse, The Amsterdam Thing

not detailed, but they are mentioned. proceed with caution and take care of yourself, please. <3

It is not the decision to have Jamie reach out to his dad that I hate. It is not even the decision to put Jamie’s dad in rehab (though I do think it was… A Choice.) To me, it’s very unsurprising that Jamie would try to reach out to his dad. Not just because of who he is as a character, but because of what this kind of lifelong abuse does to a person’s psyche. A lot of kids who come from abusive or neglectful homes have an incredibly hard time cutting off their parents. Even if they’re scared of them, even if they’re angry with them, there is still a deeply ingrained need to be loved, that maybe this time it will be different. They’ll mean it when they say they’ve changed. They’ll love me. Going no contact is fucking hard. It’s also fucking dangerous. As much as Jamie says he’s done everything he has to spite his dad, there is a part of him that deeply, desperately craves James’s approval. Of course he would visit him in rehab, because, if he’s in rehab, he’s trying, right? And maybe this time it will be different. 

But it won’t be. Because James Tartt has a pattern. A pattern of playing super dad, presumably where he cleans up his act and “makes an effort” with Jamie. Does father-son things with him, talks to him outside of asking for game tickets or telling him he played like shit (I’m hypothesizing here), lulls him into a false sense of security. And then what happens? Well, things like Amsterdam happen. And I highly doubt that was the only time he pulled that act. He likely also pulled it when he first came back into Jamie’s life, and probably other times after Amsterdam, too. What he doesn’t do, ever, though, is apologize, or take accountability for his past actions. Because James is a narcissist. At least, that’s what I would say. He feeds off Jamie’s fame and success to make himself feel bigger, important, entitled. And narcissists lack empathy. They struggle to take responsibility for their actions. They’re also, commonly, very manipulative. 

James is not an abusive piece of shit because he’s an alcoholic. He is both an abusive piece of shit AND an alcoholic. Not only does acting like he was horrid because he was drunk perpetuate the stigma of substance use disorders, it also completely takes away accountability.  James going to rehab does not change what he did. It does not fix what he’s done. It does not mean that he is magically going to win father of the year because he got sober. More likely, he’s going to continue to the cycle. I truly do not see a way in which we get to the happy ending of the show. Which brings me to my final point. 

This is not a happy ending. Jamie going to see his dad does not fix things. Jamie forgiving his dad does not take away from his trauma. Jamie should not have to forgive his dad, not for James, not for himself, not for anyone. The thing that bothers me most is that the show plays this scene like it’s closure. Like everything is OK now, and they have a good relationship, there’s no fallout, no consequences, nothing left the heal. And I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit. 

The things our parents do and say to us cut deep, at least in my experience. It doesn’t matter if they apologize, it doesn’t matter if they learn and grow, it doesn’t matter if we forgive them. That hurt stays. It sticks. You remember it. You feel it. There is no way in hell that seeing his dad wouldn’t be incredibly difficult for Jamie— just judging from what we’ve seen in the show. There’s no way it wouldn’t bring up all the trauma James has put him through, even repressed. It would not be easy. It would not be happy. And I don’t think it would be healthy. 

Whatever Jamie eventually decides to do regarding his relationship with his dad, whether its cutting him off or choosing to forgive him, which personally, I don’t think he should (but I also know that cutting off a parent is no easy feat), it would take time, it would take effort, it would be a struggle. It would take actually working through the years of abuse and trauma caused by his dad. And we don’t get any of that. We get “forgive <3” and problem solved! And honestly, I think that’s a dangerous message to be passing out. 

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. (Hehe, get it?) 

[nukacourier]

Okay so uhhh I actually wrote something about James and Arcade. I just wanted to kind of show James' personality a bit more so I imagined a conversation after learning Arcade was born in the Enclave. I haven't written much in a long time so I apologize if it falls flat at the end because I didn't know how to cut it off.

No content warnings should be needed (but there's spoilers for the story of Fallout 3). Enjoy!!

"Hey...Arcade?"

Arcade glanced up as he heard his boyfriend's gentle tone reach his ears.

James stood there, looking slightly nervous but moreso remorseful. He had his telltale sign of anxiety where he absent-mindedly scratched at the back of his hand as he loomed beside him.

"Yeah?" Arcade's eyes followed James as he sat down beside him and kicked his legs out between the bars of the motel railing.

"I'm sorry for freaking out like that. I wasn't mad at you, I just...I have my own problems."

Arcade nodded solemnly and looked down at his own hands. He felt ashamed to even look at him.

"With the Enclave? Yeah, a lot of people do. I understand if you don't...or, I guess, can't trust me anymore."

As he stared blankly at his trembling hands, he didn't even notice at first that James had reached out towards him, only realizing once his thick, square fingers softly interlocked with Arcade's own bony fingers.

He let his eyes drift back upwards and felt relief deflate his tension from his body like a leaking balloon as they met with James' own dark, sparkling eyes, the corners crinkled in the telltale sign of his smile that stretched his entire face upwards with it.

"Well...I haven't told you much about my past, either. Partially because I couldn't remember well enough—" James used his free hand to tap at the side of his head where his thick, curly hair hid a rather deep scar that Arcade had seen only a handful of times, "—but also because I just didn't want to remember it, even when I could. It's a long story." He finished with a sigh, letting his hand slip back out of Arcade's grasp and gripping the bars in front of him instead, as if trying to ground himself to tell him his story.

"You don't have to." Arcade quickly blurted out, grasping James' shoulder in reassurance.

But James simply patted his hand and gave another smile, this one now filling the creases on his face with a mournful, bittersweet reflection.

"I don't have to, no, but it's only fair." He murmured, his eyes gaining a far off look as he gazed out over the town of Novac stretched out in front of them.

Arcade fell silent, watching James quietly as the warm evening wind stirred his long hair and the nearly sunken sun lit up his contemplative face and made his normally dark eyes glow a beautiful golden amber.

"Okay, if you feel you need to." Arcade murmured, turning his gaze forward again and awkwardly pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose from where they had slid down on his face.

James stayed silent a moment longer, and finally broke it with a sigh before he reluctantly began to recall his would be locked away memories.

"Let's see, where to start...guess I should explain the whole reason I sort of went all weird on you like that. My dad..."

He squeezed his eyes shut as if just bringing him up physically pained him, and took a moment to pause and rub the back of his neck. Arcade knew by now that it was a way he soothed himself, and couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt play at his heartstrings as if he felt it was his fault he was digging up these painful memories.

But he remained quiet, deciding against drawing attention to himself as James finally opened up to him.

"My father was a good man. He was...pushy, kind of overbearing, in a way. But he meant the best for me. He wanted the best for everyone." He started out slowly, opening his eyes again and gazing off towards the horizon. He had slid his hand away from the back of his neck and rested both of them on his knees.

His eyes, usually bright and contemplative, even as he was reliving his sadness just moments ago, suddenly seemed to grow distant and cold.

"And because he decided to do good, the Enclave killed him for it."

His voice wavered before dropping in tone, the chill to his words matching the look in his eyes.

Arcade felt his heart drop in his chest like a stone. A heavy, cold, guilt-burdened stone.

He knew he never had anything to do with it, but nonetheless cold shame burned in him like frostbite as he thought of how the same people he considered family were a part of such an unashamedly awful connection of people.

Arcade squeezed his green eyes shut and clasped his hands together as they started to tremble again.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, not sure what else to say after James had gone quiet.

He didn't respond immediately, and Arcade opened his eyes in surprise as he felt his hair brush against his face followed by the warmth and weight of James resting his head on his shoulder.

"You don't have to apologize. I'm not trying to make you feel bad. I'm telling you because I trust you, Arcade." James spoke softly and sweetly, intertwining his arm with Arcade's as they sat together.

Arcade opened his mouth to respond, but James interrupted him with a gentle "shush" and continued speaking.

"I don't want you to feel bad for it. I want you to know your struggles, your worries...feeling like you're alone because of the past...I understand. Kind of. In a way."

Arcade closed his eyes once again and felt himself battling back a rising wave of emotions. James often told him he was bad at reading other people, but every time without fail it felt like he could understand exactly how he felt and could spin just the right words into a comforting blanket.

He felt James' hand squeeze his warmly.

"You mean everything to me."

His words were gentle, sincere, and warmer than the sun. It felt far more like a declaration of love more than any of their shared "I love you"s ever had.

Suddenly the wall holding back his emotions crumbled, and Arcade felt tears sting at the corners of his eyes and start to cascade down his face.

"You mean everything to me, too." He managed to choke out in response.

He had opened his eyes, and past the blurred vision of still-falling tears and splattered glasses lenses, he could see James grinning his usual warm smile, with tears falling from his crinkled up eyes and down his dimpled cheeks.

Arcade's lips trembled before breaking into a smile himself.

For once, he truly believed when someone said he felt like he understood. He was glad to truly not be alone anymore.

[bleedingectoplasm]

A Spark (Real or Imagined)

This was inspired by the prompts for DP Side Hoes Week Day 1, Tucker and Power Up! Of course, I am posting it on Day 3, but better late than never, I suppose? I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Tucker stands frozen outside of Danny’s bedroom door. He wants to knock, he really does, but for some reason, he can’t get his limbs to cooperate. Some sort of disconnect between his brain and his body is stopping the signals from his synapses from reaching the nerves in his arm.

Maybe it’s some sort of self-preservation instinct. Maybe his body knows that his heart will skip a beat the second he looks into his best friend’s eyes. Maybe his muscles know the best way to maintain homeostasis is to stay far away from Daniel James Fenton and his soft hair and sharp cheekbones and paint splatter freckles.

Ever since Danny and Sam broke up, things have been…different. Well, not between Danny and Sam. Their breakup was amicable, prompted mostly by Sam’s realization that her strong desire to be close to Valerie at all times was not, in fact, entirely platonic and she is, in fact, a lesbian. After the breakup, Danny was…completely fine. Shockingly so. While Tucker never doubted that Danny would fully support Sam’s moment of self-discovery, he expected for there to be some hurt in the fallout. It seemed almost unavoidable. But that hurt never came.

When they talked about it, Danny had just shrugged and said, “we both wanted different things.” He didn’t volunteer any additional information, as if that statement was enough of an explanation in and of itself. And then, Danny had given him that look, the one he’s been wearing more and more lately when he catches Tucker’s gaze. The corners of Danny’s eyes get all soft and his lips quirk up into a fond smile, almost like he’s looking for something and liking what he finds. It’s an expression that makes Tucker’s breath catch in his throat, equal parts intoxicating and unreadable and overwhelming.

The shift in their dynamic hasn’t been because of Danny and Sam. In fact, Tucker is pretty sure that if Danny and Sam had their way, the three of them would still be hanging out every day like nothing has changed at all. No, the difference is entirely within Tucker.

Something stirs in the pit of Tucker’s stomach whenever he and Danny are together. It’s a feeling he is intimately familiar with, a want that has burned inside of him for as long as he can remember. The fluttering of infatuation was much easier to control when Danny was dating someone else. But now that Danny is single again, now that the smallest, dumbest part of Tucker is hopeful that there might be a chance for his friendship with Danny to become something more, he can’t seem to get his butterflies to fly in formation.

Tucker hates it. He hates feeling like a little kid with a schoolyard crush, hates that he can hear his pulse in his ears every time Danny laughs, hates the way that ecstasy tips into nausea whenever Danny’s hand brushes his own at lunch. The butterflies are only manageable when Danny isn’t around, so Tucker has been valiantly trying to avoid him for the past few weeks. He’s made up homework assignments and family commitments and pulsing migraines. Danny knows it’s bullshit, Tucker can tell. He can see it in the little furrow of Danny’s brow and the tiny tilt of his head and slight purse of his lips. However, instead of calling Tucker out, Danny’s skepticism will always melt into that stupid fucking look, and he’ll accept the excuse at face value.

Tucker has been completing his duties to Team Phantom remotely, but his latest project requires face to face interaction with Danny. He’s been working on some modular enhancements to Danny’s suit, and there needs to be a fitting before final adjustments. Tucker tried to just get Danny to send over his measurements, but Danny couldn’t quite figure out how to use the measuring tape properly, for whatever reason.

Mechanical engineering is a bit outside of Tucker’s comfort zone. He’s always been more of a software guy, but Danny’s rubber hazmat suit isn’t doing enough to protect him anymore. Danny’s armor needs an upgrade, and as Danny’s guy in a chair, that responsibility falls squarely on Tucker’s shoulders. So, with little to no experience in practical construction, Tucker has been tasked with crafting something that will protect his best friend and guy he’s maybe sorta kinda in love with from facing mortal injury.

No pressure at all.

It should be a simple visit, really. He just needs to take some measurements, have Danny try a few pieces on, and then he can leave. In and out. Easy.

After one more heavy sigh, his brain and his body finally get on the same page, and he forces himself to knock.

“Come in,” Danny calls, voice muffled through the door.

Slowly, cautiously, Tucker opens the door and steps into the room. Danny is splayed out on his bed, scrolling through his phone. His shirt has ridden up a bit, and Tucker can see a small sliver of skin right above the cut of his hip bone. All the air empties from Tucker’s lungs, and he sharply turns away, unable to meet Danny’s eyes.

Danny throws Tucker a lazy grin as he hauls himself into a sitting position, his movements relaxed and self-assured. Tucker is grateful when Danny’s shirt drops to fully cover his stomach and he can breathe somewhat normally again.

“Hey,” Tucker says, hating himself when his voice waivers. “Hey, dude.” He tries again.

“Hiya, Tuck,” Danny smiles back at him. He stands and stretches his arms above his head, exposing that strip of skin once more. Tucker can feel himself short circuiting. The butterflies have become wasps and are pounding at the edges of his ribcage. He’s pretty sure that all the blood in his body has rushed up to his cheeks to paint him bright red.

This visit may be trickier than he initially thought.

“So, what’s the plan?” Danny asks.

“Uh,” Tucker says eloquently. “Um, yeah. Plan. Right. I’m just going to try these pieces on you and see what adjustments need to be made.”

Danny nods, then asks, “Do I need to change my clothes? Or does this work fine for the whole fitting thing?”

Danny is wearing jeans and an oversized NASA hoodie. The hoodie has a small blotchy stain on one of the sleeves, and Tucker can’t quite tell if it’s remnants of ketchup or blood. The stitching of the front pocket is ripping, like Danny has shoved his hands inside of it a bit too hard a few too many times. The jeans are fraying at the edges, and Tucker is pretty sure that they’re the same pair of pants that Danny has been wearing for the last four school days.

He looks beautiful.

“Are you wearing a shirt under the hoodie?” Tucker manages to ask around the lump in his throat.

Danny cocks an eyebrow at him.

“I just mean for fitting purposes,” he rushes to explain. “The hoodie looks like it might be a little thick so, you know-“

“Yeah, I gotcha,” Danny interrupts, stopping Tucker from embarrassing himself further. “I can take it off, one sec.”

Danny crosses his arms over himself, grabbing the sweatshirt from the bottom hem and lifting it over his head. Mercifully, his t-shirt remains in place, and Tucker is spared from seeing any flash of Danny’s torso.

Danny tosses the hoodie onto the bed before ruffling his unruly hair back into place.

“All good?”

Tucker swallows. Hard. “Great,” he chokes out.

The air between them is supercharged with a tension that Tucker can’t quite place. He steps closer to Danny, removing the armor prototypes from his duffel bag and laying them onto the bed.

Piece by piece, Tucker places the suit upgrades on his friend’s body, snapping and buckling the flexible plating into place. He tightens the breastplate around Danny’s chest, careful to touch only the armor itself, refusing to indulge in fantasies of resting his hand on the small of Danny’s back. As he settles the shoulder piece across Danny’s collarbone, he can feel Danny’s icy breath dance across his cheek. It’s tantalizing, and it takes all of Tucker’s willpower to hold himself back.

His fingertips just barely brush against Danny as he places the final piece of the armor around Danny’s forearm. There’s a spark that skitters across the surface of Tucker’s skin where they made contact, and for a moment he thinks it’s just in his head, the same sort of electricity he always feels whenever he gets too close to Danny. But as he catches the incremental shift in Danny’s expression as he winces, he realizes the spark was very real.

Tucker jerks his hand away from Danny, tripping over himself to apologize. “I’m sorry, this is new tech and all, but it shouldn’t have—”

His voice seizes as Danny catches Tucker’s hand in his own and presses Tucker’s palm firmly against his arm, refusing to break eye contact. The atmosphere in the room shifts and gravity collapses into them. Tucker can’t move away, he doesn’t want to. He may never move from this spot ever again. He keeps waiting for Danny to say something, but Danny offers no explanation. The only sound in the room is the twin rattling of their breathing. Danny’s bedroom has become a cathedral, and speaking would disturb the holiness of the atmosphere.

The moment stretches into an eternity. Tucker can feel a flush licking over his skin like fire. He is afraid he may burn up, completely consumed by the flames of his own desire. In a last attempt at self-preservation, Tucker finally finds his voice.

“What are you doing?” The question resonates in the room with a rasp.

There it is again. The look. Tucker’s nerve endings are lit anew.

“Pressure is good for pain,” Danny explains. The twinkle in his eye dares Tucker to disagree.

Tucker’s head is pounding. The butterflies have migrated from his stomach to his skull. His entire body is an inferno. The metaphors are getting all mixed up and Tucker can hardly move. Breathe. Think.

Danny edges forward by a nanometer, and his nose is practically brushing against Tucker’s cheek. He doesn’t know when Danny got so close. Tucker turns his head on instinct, and he can feel Danny’s breath skitter across his lips. An electric sensation zings down Tucker’s spine. His mouth parts ever so slightly, and the movement causes Danny’s eyes to dart down to Tucker’s lips. He can see Danny swallow, hear his shuddering breath, feel his uneven pulse where his fingers hook around Danny’s inner elbow.

Danny moves impossibly closer. Tucker is frozen, either in fear or anticipation. He’s not quite sure. For the briefest moment, Tucker thinks that Danny’s lips will meet his own. He braces himself for the brush of Danny’s chapped lips. He doesn’t know what he wants. He wants this. He wants everything. He wants nothing at all.

Suddenly, Danny pulls away, opening a vacuum between them. Tucker gasps, feeling as if he has been plunged into an ice bath. Danny seems completely nonchalant.

“This looks great, Tuck,” Danny flexes a bit, turning his arm to get a better look at his new gear. “Thanks for the power up.”

Tucker is still struggling to catch his breath. “Uh, yeah. Of course. Anytime.”

“And Tucker?” Danny peers over at him, a patient smile painted across his freckled face.

Tucker absentmindedly rubs his thumb across his lips, the ghostly memory of Danny’s breath still buzzing beneath his skin. “Yeah?”

“Let me know when you’re ready, okay?”

Tucker has never been more confused in his entire life. “When I’m ready?”

He forces himself to meet Danny’s gaze, and only to be met once more with the look.

God fucking damn it.

“Yeah. Just let me know.” Danny says softly, lovingly. “I’ll be here.”

[leftduck9986]

Rainbows for Crowley and Our Car, S2E2.

Similar to Rainbows for Aziraphale and Visiting Archangels, the larger rainbow in the foreground begins with Violet instead of Red. It is a lower camera angle this time, also further away, so the double rainbow in the background against the bookshop front wall near the left pillar is barely there. The rainbow in the foreground really pops once in-front of the Bentley.

Seeing them everywhere now, I whisper-gasp-squeak, "rainbow lens flare!", having in the last week, spotted them in American Gods and Fallout. But they are the "usual" Red through Violet rainbows (maybe a hint of Magenta before Red in the Fallout screenshot. Also amazed to learn that the colours for some rainbows appear in reverse order - I always thought Red to be the largest ring on the outside!).

But the two foreground rainbows showing up for Aziraphale and Crowley on Whickber St in episode two are unique, starting with Violet for the outermost band of colour, instead of appearing after Blue on the inside - almost 100% certain of that, especially when comparing to St Jame's Park in episode one (reused shot from Season One, but the rainbow flares were added for Season Two).

Crowley's rainbow in episode three however, seems to be the usual red-through-violet, I'm not entirely sure. What do you think?

It was his rainstorm & rainbow after all. Crowley's choice perhaps?

Whereas God would be the creator of the two rainbows on Whickber St in episode two. Could it be an extra special apology following the unseen event(s) of episode one?

Might it count as one of the things Crowley is referring to when he says, "well, lots of things are wrong right now" and something being "wrong" could include anything out of the ordinary, e.g. the colours of the Rainbow being slightly out of order.

Tiny 'regular' rainbows are visible on Uriel and Saraqael in Heaven, episode six:

And finally, just look at the rainbow arc (colours reversed) and then a very faint full-circle rainbow (also reversed) appearing to the left of Aziraphale's Halo:

I'm not entirely certain for these last two pictures either, but IF these rainbows also begin with Violet (from the smallest/inside ring out), then FOR NOW I want to conclude that they are exclusively for Crowley and Aziraphale.

(to clarify, that's at least the two rainbows - The first, when Aziraphale returns from the record shop to greet the Archangels; second, Crowley approaching Aziraphale and Bentley outside market stalls - in the foreground appearing on Whickber St for episode two, but I want to believe that it also includes the rainbows made by Aziraphale's Halo in episode six.)

Re-bloggers with image enhancing skills, please come to the rescue. <3

[thefalloutwiki]

Fallout 3: Revelation 21:6

“See that? It was your mother's favorite passage. It's from the Bible. Revelation 21:6. "I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life freely." She always loved that.”

- James, Fallout 3

You can check out the page for Revelation 21:6 here:

https://fallout.wiki/wiki/Revelation_21:6

[dylanblakesgal]

Hi my nickname is Jessie I love Sunflowers, Wolves, and my favorite boy characters I love talking about them I don't have alot of characters I obsess over but there's a few here's some of my favorites out of many I love as characters.

#1 Cooper Howard

#2 Dylan Blake

#3 Varric Tethras

#4 Goro Majima

As you can see I have a type of man I love there's a pattern bad boys with a heart or just bad boys I also gotta love my cowboys, pirates, dwarfs, and people with super powers.

Age:30. Gender: Female. I Express Myself As A: Tomboy. Content: 20+ Mixed. I make things like Gifs, Moodboard Edits, Picture Edits, and so on.

I admit I have an obsession for Dylan Blake from RE Dylan Blake is happily married to my OC Character Serena Blake.

Oshi he's like a brother to Cooper Howard in Fallout there blood brothers justice can't be denied everywhere they go he's also brother/friends with everyone My OC Character Oshi is a mix of Majima from Yakuza Like Dragon and Cooper Howard from Fallout TV Series Oshi has a similar look with his duster to Majima's jacket then his Desperado Hat is like Cooper's I was going for a certain look I wasn't even trying with his appearance it's just a coincidence he kinda looks like these two now I joke and say it's there long lost kid or the love child they had with a someone Oshi is my favorite character I must protect him at all costs he's just the guy who wants to help and have wholesome but cool vibes while just being platonic with certain people I know am a girl and my OC Character Oshi is a boy I put some of my personality into him and in my other OC Characters anyways sorry for my rambling I just saw some similarities with Oshi with these two also I don't ship Oshi with no one he's just like a brother or friend to people I use my other characters for ships but Oshi is not for that he's off limits plus it doesn't interests him.

Somethings I make is a joke ok not being serious. I just post things I love and enjoy

Disability: I have ADHD/Learning Problem

My Favorite Tropes Is Are The: Protective Lover, Soulmates, Forbidden Lovers, Wholesome Couples, and sometimes Enemies To Loves plus Platonic.

I have my comfort characters Cooper Howard, Dylan Blake, Gerry and Pete, Jensen, Chris Mclean, Connor, Finn, Hunter, Crosshair, Varric, Majima, and others that makes me smile and laugh my favorite characters got me. I have multiple interests and like any character that interests me and fandom.

My top favorite actors are: Woody Harrelson, Oliver Phelps, James Phelps, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Domhnall Gleeson, Keanu Reeves, Walton Goggins, and more these are my comfort actors.

[kay-elle-cee]

Fic Author Self-Rec Tag

Thank you for the tag, @charmsandtealeaves! I think the last time I was tagged I only actually had 5 fics, so I suppose I actually have to make choices this time. 😅 Will be listing in no particular order.

When you get this, reply with your 5 favourite fics that you've written. Then pass it on to five other writers. Spread some self love.

Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting) || 14k. Oneshot. Rated M. Sirius, Lily, and James deal with the fallout of the events from the end of 5th year.

No one is surprised by this one. The idea for this fic is what pulled me back into writing and will forever have my whole heart.

restless waves rise and fall || 48K. Complete. Rated T. Pirate AU In which James Potter is a gentleman pirate and Lily Evans is his loyal but vastly more competent First Mate.

My first completed multichap AND my first AU <3 RW Jily has a hold on me after this and I love them with all my heart. I briefly wrote for the POTC fandom years ago so this was just like....a very fun cross-section of my interests.

A Thrill Divine, Down My Spine || 2k. Oneshot. Rated T “You know what I'm getting at — you're like a really good thing personified. Take a compliment Potter, God.” She turns on her stool to face him, sliding one of the firewhiskies his way. Or: Two totally platonic friends get drinks after a rough day.

This came about so suddenly and was so fun to write...it was just really enjoyable to write something light and flirty!

Echoes of a Love Lived || 13.7K. Complete. Rated T. A collection of Jilytober ficlets.

A huge undertaking for me, but it was a great opportunity to kind of play around with styles and POVs and I'm really proud of these little moments.

When Resiliency Shatters || 1k. Oneshot. Rated M James and Lily grapple with isolation in the week after undergoing the Fidelius Charm.

I delighted in writing this kind of sorrow with a cheerful holiday background. Also, I just really enjoyed getting to write a moment where James' whole personality is thrown for a loop and we see him kind of stumble numbly through life.

Tagging @sunshinemarauder, @possessingtheproperspirit, @emeralddoeadeer @wearingaberetinparis and @uncertainwallflower if you feel up for it!

[aanoia]

Hi, i like your writing!

I've got 2 song request ideas, if you want...

The first one, for Alphaville's 'Forever Young', maybe with James? Y/n doesn't want to grow old and is insecure, but James is really sweet about it.

And the second one for 'Love from the other side' from Fall Out Boy. Maybe that one of the Marauders is in love with someone who is forced on the other side of the war.

Only if you want to ofcourse, and you can also change the interpretation or story. No pressure! <3

I'm doing the second one for now, as I cannot figure out how to write you're first idea without repeating the same thing over and over iykwim. I am gonna write it I just need a bit. Anyway, I hope you like it as I did get a little carried away. No shame though.

Love From The Other Side

Sirius Black x reader words; 2,581 song; Love From the Other Side by Fallout Boy warnings; blood, death, death eaters, voldemort in the flesh, yk, not good ending my masterlist yall i got CARRIED away, i lowkey had sm fun writing it though like i've never really written an 'evil' character and it was amazing. i'll defo be doing it more anyway, if you love a song, the marauders, and my writing, request a song fic and your wish shall be my command. HAVE FUN!

Model house like meltdowns

Still a modern dream let down, it kills me

Sirius knew the risks of dating a Slytherin. But despite everything inside him telling him not to trust the girl, he couldn’t stop himself from doing so. She drew him in like a moth to flame. Unfortunately for Sirius, flames burn. 

You know I'm dying out here

What would you trade the pain for?

I'm not sure

“Pads, where is she?” James asked quickly as he shot a spell at a Death Eater.

Sirius did the same, knocking the Death Eater backwards, “I don’t know, James. I’ve got no clue at fucking all.” He said angrily as a soft spell hit his chest and pushed him back. He stared straight at the Death Eater, who simply cocked their head and flew away as black smoke. “What the fuck.” He mumbled, questioning why he was spared.

We were a hammer to the statue of David

We were a painting you could never frame and

“Sirius, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. Are you all right?” Y/n asked as she burst through the doors of the Potter manor.

Sirius smiled gently at her, “I’m okay.” he said and Y/n let out a relieved sigh, biting back the guilt that was creeping up on her. 

You were the sunshine of my lifetime

What would you trade the pain for?

“I need to go.” Y/n said quietly, letting go of Sirius’ hand.

“Again?” He asked. “You keep disappearing. Where are you going?”

Y/n pressed a kiss to her boyfriend's lips, “Not important. I’ll see you later.” She said and apparated away. Sirius furrowed his brow at the small amount of black smoke left behind.

This city always hangs a little bit lonely on me, loose

Like a kid playing pretend in his father's suit

“No, we need to be smarter than that.” A voice said and Sirius ducked behind a bush, keeping in a gasp as he saw a group of Death Eaters in a circle.

“You don’t know anything, girl.”

“I know how much stronger I am than you, Malfoy.” The same voice said and Sirius couldn’t help but recognize it. But how? “How much more worth I have to the Dark Lord. Back off.”

I'll never go, I just want to be invited, oh

Got to give up, get the feeling

Get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it

“Sirius, you’ve been zoning out. What’s going on?” Remus asked as the Order, minus Y/n who had left for personal business again, sat around a wooden table.

Sirius looked up, fighting back the tears, “I think Y/n’s a Death Eater.”

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Sirius stared at the Death Eater he was sure was his girlfriend, raising his wand with his chin held up high as he ignored the chaos ensuing around them. The Death Eater did the same and he scoffed.

“I know it’s you, Y/n. I know you’ve betrayed us.” The Death Eater didn’t respond, instead shooting a spell at Sirius, who quickly created a shield. “Just admit it. You’re one of them.” Spell, shield. “I fucking know it’s you! All your secret outings.” Spell, shield. Sirius took a few steps closer. “Don’t be a coward.” Spell, shield, step. “Show me your face.” Spell, shield, pounce. 

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Love from the other side of the apocalypse

Sirius jumped onto the Death Eater, not thinking about the consequences as he ripped the mask from their head. Although he already knew, her face confirming his suspicions made his heart clench and throat tighten. 

“You fucking traitor.” He seethed, apparating away before the tears could fall.

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Y/n froze on the ground, staring at the spot the love of her life was before he disappeared. Her head snapped to the side when she heard a strangled gasp and watched as her best friend gasped in horror, James pulling her away from the girl as he looked at her sadly before disappearing with his sobbing wife. Remus shook his head at her, tears in his eyes as well as his figure vanished. 

Y/n laid down on the ground, completely emotionless. The only indicator of her feelings was the lone tear that slid down her cheek and soaked into her hair.

Generation sleep

I'm falling in and out of love

I'm getting that tilted feeling out here

“You let them figure you out?” Malfoy sneered at Y/n who rolled her eyes.

“Now, now, Lucius. Let poor Y/n have a moment to mourn, she did just lose the love of her life.” Voldemort jeered. It was as if she had been stabbed in the heart as she shook her head.

“I don’t care.” She said, her voice steady.

Voldemort nodded, a nasty smile coming across his face, “Delightful.”

What would you trade the pain for?

I'm not sure

“No.” Frank Longbottom said, refusing to believe the news.

“Y/n?” His wife, Alice, asked quietly.

Nowhere left for us to go but heaven

A summer falling through our fingers again and

James nodded, “Yes. Y/n has unfortunately joined the Death Eaters, actually, we believe she was a Death Eater before she was a member of the Order.  So that means any plans we already had, will need to change-”

“Any plans they already had, will change.” Y/n repeated to the group.

“We need to change where we meet.”

“They’ll change where they meet.”

“We need new members.”

“They’ll recruit new members.”

“Anything to stay one step ahead of them.”

“They’ll do anything to stay a step ahead of us, without knowing we’re already three steps ahead.”

You were the sunshine of my lifetime

What would you trade the pain for?

Y/n sighed as she racked her brain, parchment in front of her and quill in hand. Where would they go next? Slowly, other thoughts crept in. Do I know what I’m even doing? Am I making the right choice, or fucking up royally? What about Sirius? When did my act become real life with him? When did I actually start loving him?

I shook the thoughts away as a lightbulb went off. The abandoned Black Manor. Bingo. That had to be where they’d meet next. I wrote down the address on the parchment and stood to bring it to everyone but froze at the door. Should I really do this? 

We're told we gotta get ahead, yeah, no matter what it takes

But there's no way off the hamster wheel on this rat race

Sirius held his breath as he waited to ambush the Death Eaters. They had figured out about the mini meeting being held, and brought the better part of the Order to out number them and attack. He only hoped Y/n wouldn’t be there, because he didn’t know what would happen. He didn’t know if he would kill her or kiss her and beg her to come back to the light. 

James gave Sirius the signal and he immediately shot a spell down, alerting the Death Eaters of their presence. Frank jumped down from where he was hiding and shot a spell at a Death Eater, knocking them backwards. As the big fight began, one of the Death Eaters whistled loudly and black smoke filled the area. What? They knew? How? 

He spotted Y/n taking down one of the members of the Order and it clicked. They might have completely changed their plans, but their strategy stayed the same, and she knew it by heart. Because she created it.

I'll never go, I just want to be invited, oh

Got to give up, get the feeling

Get the feeling, don't fight it, fight it

“James, are you alright?” Lily asked, looking over her husband as he smiled and placed his hand on her baby bump, pressing a small kiss to her cheek.

“I’m okay. They knew about the ambush, and just ambushed us back.” He explained and she nodded sadly, knowing exactly who the culprit of their knowledge was.

Sirius shook in anger and grabbed a glass that rested on the table. He threw it hard at the wall, refraining from screaming his head off for no apparent reason. Lily gasped and James stepped in front of her protectively. 

“No matter what we do, with her on their side, we will never win.” 

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

“What happened?” Y/n seethed, her wand pointed threateningly to a random Death Eater.

“The boy, he couldn’t be killed.” The Death Eater explained, his voice shaking.

“And the parents?”

“Dead.” Y/n shuddered, refraining from breaking down knowing people who used to be so important to her ceased to exist.

“The Dark Lord?”

“Not dead, but almost.”

Y/n nodded, “We’ll heal him, until then I’ll keep an eye on the boy as he grows up. And when the time comes, the Dark Lord will seek out his revenge.”

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Love from the other side of the apocalypse

“Sirius Black escaped, did you hear?” Lucius asked, coming into the dining room.

Y/n nodded, “I did. And?”

Lucius growled, “Well, I thought you’d like to know your boyfriend escaped from the inescapable.”

Y/n shrugged, “I’m not at all surprised. In fact, I thought he would’ve been out as soon as he was in. Not almost thirteen years later. However, it does give us a swell chance of breaking out some fellow Death Eaters, yes?”

Lucius briefly nodded, “Yes.”

Y/n’s eyes darkened as she smirked, “Yes, what, Lucius? Remember what our Lord demanded my name be, you should.”

Lucius refrained from rolling his eyes, “Yes, My Lady.”

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Y/n smiled as the Dark Lord was reborn, ignoring the clench in her heart at the strangled cries of Harry. He had grown into a handsome young man, that’s no doubt. He had the face of his father, and the eyes of his mother. 

“My Lady, my most loyal follower. Almost my equal, come.” The Dark Lord muttered and she obeyed. He whispered in her ear and her eyes fell onto the dead boy by a broken headstone. She nodded and stood back where she was.

Y/n glanced at Harry with a sinister grin, “Pleasure to see you again, Harry. Tell your parents I said hi when you see them again, yeah? We left off on the rather wrong foot, if you ask me.”

I saw you in a bright clear field

Hurricane heat in my head

Y/n stood quietly in the shadows as Lucius took the prophecy from Harry’s hand and turned around, only to be met with Sirius Black.

“Get away from my godson.” Sirius sneered and punched Lucius hard in the face. A small smile came across my face as I remembered our days in Hogwarts. His punch was exactly the same.

The kinda pain you feel to get good in the end, good in the end

Inscribed like stone and faded by the rain

"Give up what you love

Give up what you love before it does you in"

Sirius fought silently with Lucius, Harry standing behind with a winning grin. Y/n’s head flew to the side as she heard the familiar woosh of someone landing and shock coursed through her body as the words met her ears.

“Avada Keda-”

“Expelliarmus!” Y/n muttered quickly, making Bellatrix’ wand fly from her hand. Everyone looked around in shock, not knowing where the spell came from. “Unfortunately, Bellatrix, killing Sirius Black is of no use to us. And it makes things much less exciting, don’t you think, sweetheart?” She asked as she stepped out from the shadows, not missing Sirius’ gasp.

Y/n walked up to Sirius and he held his wand up threateningly. She held up her hands in defense and took a step closer.

“What do you want?” He asked, a hand protectively going to Harry.

Y/n’s eyes softened, “I know you will never forgive me, I doubt you’ll even believe me, but I am so sorry, Sirius. For everything. I love you so, so much., don’t forget to reread my letter.” She whispered and disappeared, leaving smoke in her spot as Bellatrix and Lucius followed suit.

“What was that?” Harry asked as Sirius locked eyes with Remus.

Sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

“The diary, the ring, the gauntlet-” Harry repeated to Remus and Sirius, studying the letter.

“She told us everything and we were too daft to notice.” Sirius finished, shaking his head.

“Wait, so is she evil or not?” Ron asked and the room stayed silent, genuinely lost. Ron turned to the smartest person he knew, “Hermione?”

Hermione shook her head, a defeated look in her eyes, “I have no idea.”

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

Love from the other side of the apocalypse

“The boy who lived has come to die.” Voldemort said, a wicked smile on his lips. Y/n stood by his side, zoning out as everything happened. She stared at Sirius, who stared right back. They eye contest was broken when Voldemort called Draco to his side. Y/n shook her head slightly at the boy who looked to her for instruction, but with the encouragement of his father he unwillingly walked over, only to receive an awkward hug from Voldemort. Y/n glanced at Sirius one last time, but he was gone.

And I just about snapped

Don't look back

Every lover's got a little dagger in their hand

“An entire war is going on and you’re here?” Y/n asked, leaning against the doorway of the main bedroom in the shrieking shack.

“I knew you’d follow me.” He said simply, gazing out of the window. “But you knew that already.”

Y/n nodded, “I did.”

“And you know why I want you here?” He asked, finally looking Y/n in the eyes.

She grinned, “I do. You want answers.”

Sirius nodded, “Bingo.”

Y/n sighed and stood up straight, walked over to Sirius who stood from his spot on the bed.

“Sirius, the last thing you want is answers.” She said quietly, her lips impossibly close to his.

He shook his head, “I do, you can’t tell me what I want and don’t.”

Y/n let out a breathy laugh, “I know you want this.” She said and leaned in, kissing him gently. He hesitated but reciprocated the kiss, letting his hand snake around her neck and into her hair. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled against his lips and pain bloomed in his abdomen. 

He closed his eyes, the cool metal of the dagger quickly warming with his blood. Y/n helped him down to the floor gently, keeping her hand behind his head so he didn’t hit it on the way down.

“Why?” He whispered.

Y/n smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead before whispering in his ear.

Sending my love

“Long live, Lord Voldemort.”

Sending my love

taglist (if u wanna be added js comment :));

@loving-and-dreaming @1lellykins @poetrypirate

[impishtubist]

I’m not going to lie, the idea that Peter betraying everyone was the fault of those he betrayed is easily one of my most hated interpretations. The idea that we are laying the blame for being murdered on James (and Lily considering she was likely hanging out the Peter before his Gerard, since she started dating James their last year of school and Peter became a spy a year before their deaths, meaning there’s roughly 3 years between Lily entering the Marauders’ circle as James girlfriend and Peter turning to Voldemort) is just unfathomable to me. Sirius even gives us a pretty likely reason for why Peter turned: Peter would side with whoever he thought was strongest and if I remember correctly, Voldemort was winning the war until Harry defeated him; this means that Peter turned because he thought Voldemort would win and if he became a spy, he’d survive. And even if he was treated badly by his friends—and we only see this in SWM, during which James comments that Peter should know the signs of a werewolf considering he’s with one every single month and Sirius tells James to stop showing off because Peter is applauding him* and this is almost certainly causing Sirius secondhand embarrassment—that still doesn’t mean it’s their fault the man is a traitor. I’m sorry, but having people being rude to you does not mean deciding “hey, I’m going to join the organization that is slaughtering people and waging war” is justified. If Peter hated the way they treated him, he should have just cut them out of his life. From what we see of Peter, I think that Peter betrayed everyone to save his own skin, lived as a rat for years because this act backfired spectacularly and he had a target on his back from any Death Eaters who dodged Azkaban but might have held a grudge over Voldemort dying/any fallout they experienced, and then turned back to Voldemort because he had no other options after everything and resurrecting Voldemort might have earned him leniency.

*Plus, this is kind of weird to do. We know, from the very book this occurs in, that James used to play with the Snitch pretty frequently, so this isn’t new behavior or anything the Marauders haven’t seen before. Peter is acting like he’s never seen this before. Even if this is the first incident of James playing with the Snitch, Peter has seen Quidditch games, he’d have witnessed Seekers in action, so it’s not something novel. Also, like, that’s supposed to be one of his best friends, why is he acting like a fanboy? I encourage my friends and of course I’m thrilled for them when they do well, but uh, I’m not literally clapping for them if they’re essentially throwing and catching a ball, this is odd. Am I just weird or something?

Yeah, exactly, it's stated pretty clearly in the text why Peter betrayed them: he's a coward who wanted to save his own skin, and so he sided with the person he thought was winning at the time. He wanted the protection he thought Voldy could provide. It's not because the MPP crew were mean to him-you don't get people killed just because they're rude to you, lmao.