#SORRY ITS RUBBISH

[peapodsplace]

Hey Baba, it seems like you've been seeing a lot of yucky stuff online right now. A lot of people who aren't remembering their manners and are forgetting that there's people behind a screen. I know you like your screen time but please remember that the world isn't all like that okay? Some people are different online and forget their values and let's remember that these days, algorithms perpously show you things that'll make you upset. Yes, yes it's not very fair, is it sweetheart. Please remember to take some breaks and that the world isn't really like that. It's so important to protect yourself. Yes, silly even if you think you don't deserve it; because you do.

[wonderbutch]

wonder woman by tom king they could never make me read you

[purpleender29]

So i did the torso bit and attempted arms, the straps are annoying but not horrible to look at… probably, will try to use a diff puzzles face for attempt 3 even tho this one is easiest to draw.

[bogslob]

Since wrath of the triple goddess is now out, does anyone know where i can get a copy with the American cover in the uk

[httpiastri]

Oscar will get his gp win before lando. lando will not even be able to hold max off to convert this pole to a win like oscar was able to. this will just confirm who the better driver for wins and championships is.

i’m gonna start off my saying that i was a lando fan before i was an oscar fan and i love love love lando with all of my heart, just like i do with oscar. none of this is anything personal against any of the boys!!

i don't really feel qualified to say something good about this because my memory is really bad. i do not remember what i had for lunch yesterday. however, i think it's important to remember that there were some differences between the grids in the sprints of qatar and brazil. i think that, if we forget about the difference in tracks and temperature and tire deg and whatnot, it makes quite a lot of difference for max to be starting p2 instead of p3 – especially being p3 and having carlos and george on the softs driving past him in like one second.

in qatar, max dropped back and had to fight with a lot of other drivers, while oscar could pull away at least a bit. he got overtaken by george, but kept cool and when george's tires weren't good anymore, he had no problem keeping the lead. of course, oscar managed several good restarts after the safety cars, but he wasn't really under any pressure from behind, except for george (right? do i remember this correctly? i really apologize otherwise). BUT max was catching up towards the end and he probably would've been able to go past if there had been more laps, both considering how oscar has been struggling with his tires, & the power of the red bull....

but this weekend, max had a good start and then that was it. he didn't have anyone fighting him or holding him back.

i don't think i came to any conclusion here, but maybe the conclusion is that it's not just that easy to compare oscar's sprint pole to lando's. i think that any kind of conclusions rn are hard tbh since the red bull is so insanely good. the only thing i know is that lando is fast as fuck (check out his position in the standings, he spent so many rounds fighting for the bottom points and now he has SEVEN podiums???) and oscar is doing so so well as a rookie too. i'm super excited for the future of mclaren and our boys <3

[hayleysstark]

HE.................................

[gingerbreadmonsters]

ginger, cracking an eyelid and thinking about opening requests for a little bit? its more likely than you think 👀👀

[angelfoodscake]

me just chilling and then i remember the time my mum threw out all my sketchbooks

[chickpea0]

@cams-cozy-corner totally!

I think a decent amount of people are somewhat aware of it in the sense that they know they or others feel small and scared when something shocking happens and they just ascribe that to regular, non regression related 'small and scared and feeling like a helpless child'. It's also somewhat common knowledge that someone might act like a child in tense situations but they see that as a Thing that Happens and don't really think much of it. Like, the gag where a character would ask for their mummy or start crying like a kid.

Some poeple do recognise regression as reverting back to a younger headspace but don't really have the language for it and they also don't see it in the way we (the online community) sees it. A lot of us use it like a tool and treat it like an identity and embrace it. Someone who might be prone to regression who doesn't embrace it or really think of it in a certain way much might not regress as much, creating or existing in an enviroment where regression is seen in a certain light can encourage it too!

I think also that the lines between regressor and non-regressor are really, really not as black and white as some people think. When it comes to psychology it can be pretty hard to draw lines in the sand, the brain is SO complex and there's so many layers to it. Some choose to make room in their life for regression, some fight it, some aren't aware and some just are doing their own thing.

So it's quite likely that there are quite a few people who do similar things to you in your area but not everyone is in the online agere community, nor even call it the same things!

one sad thing i think about sometimes is like... well, yeah, agere/agedre communities aren't as massive... but also it's practically non-existent where i'm from and that thought sometimes feels lonely even though online communities exist... i think it's something about knowing you're not geographically alone in the way you cope ?

[lostkitty420]

The Window In The Bathroom

Sitting nude next to an open windowon the 7th floor

& I have a joint in my fingers

I don’t normally drink gin

but it was purple

& I do love the color

I don’t know if I prefer to sway over the hot bath

or the cold street

I don’t know if I want someone to look up

or if I wish to fall down

All I’m sure of

is that I shouldn’t be smoking this joint in the apartment.   

–A

[c4teyezz]

my fav jjk men with babies lol

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my fav jjk men x afab!reader

i kept the baby gender neutral for yall in case, i dont want ppl coming to me like “nO hE wOulD dEfinEtly hAve a-“ shut.

note: on nanamis part it mentions reader being pregnant 🤰

characters: gojo saturo, geto suguru, sukuna ryomen, higuruma hiromi, nanami kento, kusakabe atsuya, toji fushiguro

༶•┈┈┈┈┈୨

Gojo Saturo

- spoils the baby 24/7 and the things the baby has are the best of the best, the price doesnt matter to him

- idk why but he likes taking a big whiff of the babies hair then going like “ahhhh!” after and then kissing their scalp

“look babe i just bought some new clothes for our little one” gojo said smiling up at you as you entered the room. gojo is sitting on the foam rug thing with the baby laying down on it

gojo held up the baby carefully while supporting their neck at the same time to show you their fit. “thats so cute!” you responded then sitting down with him, you look at the tags that gojo ripped out from the clothes “saturo what did i say abt rubbish- $200!? WE SHOULD BE USING THAT MONEY FOR THEIR FOOD”

Geto Suguru

- i feel like hes gonna be a fairly strict but not too strict of a father

- he loveeessss wrapping them up in his robes, hugging/carrying them around like that wherever he goes in the house

“ah-! let go of my hair!” suguru demanded but not doing anything to stop it, the baby just giggles at their fathers reaction not knowing that their lowkey hurting their dad bc obviously theyre just a baby…

you take a quick pic of the sight thats in front of you, giggling along with your baby

“damn this thing is strong!” he said

“dont call your kid a thing!”

Sukuna Ryomen

- he mostly watches you take care of “the brat” he calls them, but is willing to help as long as you give him clear instructions on what the hell hes supposed to do with “it”

- i can see him holding his kid upside down with their legs when theyre like 6 or something and sometimes he drops them on purpose before quickly and successfully catching them, he has no intentions of hurting them, hes mostly doing it to fuck with you. i mean he made the kid laugh so lol

“what the fuck its crying” he pointed out to you as you rock the baby gently in your arms

“yeah i can see that… and stop calling them ‘it’, theyre not some sort of rare space specimen”

Higuruma Hiromi

- even tho in the manga hes portrayed as the classic “no humor, cold, tired man in a suit” kind of guy, i honestly dont think hes just that, hes just like that in professional settings and when things are serious. i can see him make light jokes, like he did with itadori, so he’d definitely do the same with his baby

- he likes gently scratching the babys back, as he knows its relaxing i mean who doesnt like a good scratch on the back sometimes. he doesnt mind when the baby starts fiddling with his tie, but when the baby chews on if he definitely gets a bit grossed out

“bah!” hiromi jokingly surprised the baby which made the baby flinch and cry at their father, hiromi laughed at the baby’s raction “sorry” Hiromi gently apologised while smiling at them, then went back to scare them one more time by covering his face then quickly uncovering his face “boo!”

this time the baby laughed with their father and you recorded the fun moment

(this is also inspired by a reel i saw on instagram, it was so cute 😭)

Nanami Kento

- HANDS DOWN THE BEST FATHER DUH WTF??? do we even have to argue???? since the baby hes been cutting his alcohol drinking as he doesnt want the baby’s sensitive lungs to suffer from the smell. he also lovessssss skin to skin, when the baby popped out and it was his turn to hold the baby in his bare chest, he was over the moonnnnn

- ngl he would mostly take care of the baby more than you, his excuse is since you carried the baby for 9 months, so its his job to support and deal with the baby most of the time mwah mwah

you stare at him feeding your baby their bottle, whose also safely tucked in his loving arms

“kento can i feed them now?” you asked him

“go rest honey, you deserve it” he responded, kissing you on the forehead

“thats my baby youre hogging!”

Kusakabe atsuya

- omg he likes making the baby dance, the baby cant walk yet, so he’d hold them up and make them look like theyre dancing by making them look like their doing that default baby dance toddlers do or gently swing them side to side

- loves placing them on his chest as they sleep as he fiddles with their tiny hand. also he strictly calls them by their shorter version of their name or a random nickname that suits them

“mmph! stop trying to grab my lolly!” atsuya told the baby as it tried reaching for it, eventually the baby caught the stick of the lollipop and forced it out of their dads mouth and putting it into theirs

“hehe gross”

fushiguro toji

- he plays with them by making them pretend that theyre boxing with their hands

- naps naps napsssssss, he always puts them on his chest so that they can nap together on the couch. but sometimes when toji snores, he lets out a loud snore which scares the baby into waking up crying lmfaoooooooo

“hell nah”

“toji just wipe their ass already, im trying to show you how change their diaper”

“fucking hell…” toji muttered as he slowly lifts the baby by their legs

okay maybe hes not the best when it comes to helping sometimes, but at least hes willing to try

༶•┈┈┈┈┈୨

maayong gabii lahat!!! (good evening everyone!!!)

hehe i just wanna say thank you guys for the likes, reblogs, comments, and followers so far :))))

damo nga salamatttt (thank you so muchhhh)

[silent-stories]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie's father didn't react well when Eddie accidentally dropped a bottle on the ground and years later, he still expects a violent reaction to an incident like this.

Warnings: violence (eddie gets beaten by his dad), blood, angst, fluff.

Eddie slowly opened his bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise and looked around, trying to identify the figure of the man who had returned home about an hour before, around three in the morning.

Probably, it was not a suitable time for a father of a seven-year-old boy and husband of a dying woman in hospital to come back home, even Eddie understood that.

He used to come back home late and drunk when his mother was still with them and he didn't stop doing it even when she got sick.

The blue socks on Eddie's feet cushioned the few steps he took forward, in the dark. His sleepy gaze, due to the late hour, scanned the room as he brushed aside a curl that had fallen over his eyes with his small, thin fingers.

His hair was getting too long again, he knew his father would soon order him to cut it.

The man's snores were guttural, punctuated by occasional coughs that rattled the room. The bottle lay discarded on the floor, its contents drained, a silent witness to the nightly ritual.

The television flickered in the corner, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Eddie’s mother’s favorite show played—a distraction from the harsh reality outside. But she wasn’t there to watch it anymore.

Eddie knew that when his father woke up in the morning, he wouldn't remember the bottle of whiskey left at his feet and would most likely drop it when he got up.

Only a few weeks earlier it had happened and Al had blamed it on the boy, saying that when he saw the bottle, the kid should have picked it up and thrown it in the trash when he was sleeping.

Eddie walked over to the couch where his father lay and grabbed the bottle in his hands. It was sticky and had a smell that the boy had found nauseating at the time.

He headed towards the kitchen, thinking whether he should leave it on the table, throw it in the bin with the remnants of the reheated pizza he had eaten for dinner, or go out and throw it in the rubbish bin on the street in front of the house.

The TV program came to an end and the screen went black for a few seconds, plunging the room into total darkness.

Eddie was sure that chair was a few steps ahead, he could have sworn it.

Probably, he should have waited for the light on the screen to return before taking any more steps.

His body hit the chair. The bottle slipped from his hands.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces, emitting a deafening sound in the silence of the night and the man who was previously sleeping thoughtfully woke up with a start.

"What the hell..."

The child's eyes filled with tears even before his father reached him, staggering.

"What the hell did you do!?" The man barked, his deep voice seeming capable of shaking all the doors in the house.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to throw away the bottle and I didn't-"

The man's fist came in contact with Eddie's face before he could finish his sentence.

The boy stumbled back, leaning against the wall behind him to keep himself from falling on the ground.

A terrible pain spread across one side of his face and he felt something warm dripping from his nose, the blood mixed with tears that he couldn't hold back.

“You never do anythin' right.” His father spat out.

Eddie sniffed, his lower lip trembling as he spoke. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Shut up!" Al shouted from a few inches away from the child's tear-stained face.

Eddie closed his eyes and held his breath, waiting for a second shot that didn't come. A sob escaped his lips and the fear that another punch would come soon didn't go away.

“Look at you,” Al chuckled, “weepin' like a girl.”

"I-I'm sorry-"

“You keep fucking sayin' that but you're doing nothin' to fix your mess!” The father shouted, grabbing the kid by the shoulder, with a grip too firm that would surely have left a bruise, pushing him towards the place where the bottle had fallen.

"Clean up." Al ordered.

Eddie nodded, knowing his voice wouldn't come out the way he wanted it to.

The silence received in response only further angered the man who, after reaching the child again, grabbed his face with one hand, squeezing it between his fingers.

"What is wrong with you? I said fucking clean up."

"Yes- sir." The boy sobbed.

Al released him with one last push, gave him one last look before heading towards his bedroom while the boy tried not to step on the pieces of glass around the room, which would easily pierce his old socks.

"Useless, fucking useless" Eddie heard his father say, "He can never do anything fucking right."

Finally, he closed the door of his room behind him and, only after Eddie heard the sound of his snoring reaching all the way to the kitchen, he started sobbing like he had never done in his life.

He spent the last hours of the night and early morning cleaning the pieces of bottles from the floor- cutting his hands two or three times in the process- and wiping away the drops of blood that his nose had left there.

He went to bed when the sun was already up, his hands had been bandaged as best he could and his nose had finally stopped bleeding.

The sound of the bottle shattering and his father's shouts seemed to haunt him even during his sleep.

That was the case for several days.

The memory of that night has never been erased. Not even thirteen years later.

"Eddie, we didn't buy any basil!" You exclaimed, looking up from the open recipe book on the table. “I knew we forgot something!”

The kitchen was warm, the aroma of simmering tomato sauce filling the air as Eddie stood by the counter, his hands dicing onions.

You were surprised that he hadn't cut any of his fingers yet and that he seemed to be putting all his effort into the task you assigned him.

"I have all kinds at home, if you really wanna add some... herbs."

You threw a rag at his head, making him laugh under the fabric.

"Hey!" He complained.

"What does "hey" mean? You wanted to put fucking drugs in my sauce!"

"“I thought that was our sauce.” He smirked.

You laughed at the way he said it, as if he was actually offended and hadn't spent the last hour laughing even though he was chopping onions.

“It depends, are you done with those?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. "All yours, my lady."

When he turned around, his elbow accidentally hit the glass bottle of olive oil, making it crash onto the tiled floor.

You never do anything right

Shards scattered like stars, reflecting the dim light.

After the sudden deafening noise caused by the bottle, the room seemed almost too quiet. He felt your gaze on him, but he didn't dare meet your eyes.

His heart raced, memories of that childhood night flooding back. His father’s rage, the jagged edges of broken glass, and the fear that had etched itself into his soul. Eddie clenched his fists, berating himself for his clumsiness.

His hands shook, the tremors echoing the chaos within. The room seemed to close in, the walls pressing against him. He suddenly felt like couldn’t breathe.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice barely audible, "I'm sorry."

You keep fucking saying that but you're doing nothing to fix your mess.

He knew you weren't like him, not even remotely. He knew that he was no longer with him, that he was far away, that he couldn't hurt him.

What is wrong with you?

Despite this, he held his breath for a moment without even realizing it, as if he expected you to yell at him, to insult him, to tell him that he was no good at anything.

Useless, fucking useless.

"Shit, I have to clean up." He breathed, ducking ready to grab the pieces of glass with his hands.

He didn't even notice when you knelt in front of him, almost without making any noise.

Your touch was gentle as your hand met his, preventing him from grabbing the glass pieces.

"Hey. You're gonna cut yourself."

Your voice was calm and sweet, your tone almost sounded like one someone would use with a scared animal.

You weren't mad at him. You knew something was wrong with his reaction, and you weren't mad at him.

"But-"

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Just a bottle.”

Your thumb ran over the back of his hand, drawing a couple of circles.

Eddie thought he might burst into tears right there in the middle of the kitchen covered in bottle pieces.

He expected anger, frustration, maybe even a shout. Instead, you reached for a dustpan, your hand never leaving his. Together, you swept up some of the shards, the silence broken only by the soft clink of glass. Eddie’s breaths steadied, and he realized that maybe, it was going to be okay.

His words stuttered when he spoke, still caught between vulnerability and fear. “You’re not mad?” he asked, his voice raw.

“No,” you replied, you gaze steady, still soft as ever. “I’m not mad and I have no reason to be. I don't know what was going through your head and I'll be here if you ever want to tell me, but really, it's just a bottle for me. It's okay. We’ll clean this up together.”

Your smile has always been one of the most beautiful sights for Eddie and in that situation even more so, if possible.

He couldn't help but gently push you against him and leave a light kiss on your forehead, without saying a single word. Now he knew you understood him even without them.

In your small kitchen covered in broken glass, Eddie realized that it was impossible to erase certain bad memories but that, if you gave him the opportunity, he would spend the rest of his life creating new ones with you.

When you finished cleaning and the sun went down, neither of you really cared that you hadn't finished cooking.

When you went to bed, Eddie held you a little tighter than usual.

His dad was no longer part of his life.

You were. And you loved him.

Eddie didn't need anything else.

A "thank you" was whispered during the night.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

[firewalkzwit]

chemical world || simon / john q. x reader (dinner in america)

just a blurb because im up the ass with school and the one-shot i wrote was rubbish sorry. "x reader" might be a stretch its just hqs and stuff i think of simon with song sneaks in the middle coz when do i not

Chemical World - Blur

Simon of extreme hedonistic beliefs above all prioritises nothing other than pleasure, and takes pride in the aesthetic disruption this signifies. Having a shower around won't be enough to pinch his personal hygiene urges, even if it is for the sake of others. He'll bathe if he can and if he wants to.

This obviously extends to his deliberately controversial haircut. It amuses him to watch the discomfort and confusion it creates in those who see him. It's neither a mullet nor a mohawk (matter of fact, he despises either of the groups who wear such hairstyles), but rather his own third thing.

Obviously he's slightly taken aback when you fancy him for it. Not that it has ever prevented him from getting laid (he would have eventually buzzed it if it did), but the occasional compliments and caresses on his greasy hair from your tender hands never fail to remind him that he too is just a mere mortal beneath things like female affection.

Saints - The Breeders

He praises womanhood just as much as he teases it. There is an adolescent air in the way he speaks derogatorily about your mother, or even when he gets turned on out of insulting you in bed. Still, slurs that come and go only wind up humiliating him when he kneels before you, eyes wide open and hungry.

He's very versatile in that department, he'll take any place in bed as long you ask. Nothing is more arousing than your gratitude. He won't be picky about how you express it, but he has favourites; the scratching of nails in a useless attempt of grabbing the wall makes him feel like he really did his job well.

I Am the Resurrection - The Stone Roses

Not having to be functional to work timings or tedious 9 to 5-s allows Simon to have an ample disposition to, what he calls, "fuck around" any day, anytime. Although he resents the fact that you occasionally choose your adult responsibilities above him, he'll hardly hold you to it for too long. Instead, decompression is highly recreational and experimental. A wide range of psychedelics, psychotropics, psycholeptics... all to be found in some dubious corner of his backpack.

Frankly, open-mindedness is one of the few must-have traits to date him. He wont tolerate uptight or rigorous personalities. This does not imply that it was ever a requirement for you to be an avid drug consumer, but he'll take no reprimands if he chooses to pop a Percocet.

Simon's open-mindedness policy is fairly restricted when it comes to music. Not that he only listens to one genre, as his enthusiasm for punk has inevitably derived in enjoying all of those that influenced or derivate from it, but he believes most are acquired tastes. Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Melvins and Fugazi sit around in his record collection.

He loves it when you ask about his records, and far from judging you if you ever don't know, he'll sit down on the floor with his back rested against the bed and his records in hand. Encyclopedic narrations of the socio-cultural context of the origin of most of his favourite bands could be biography-worth if it weren't for all the "fuck"s between them.

"Fuckin' Christ, Pink Flag? That fuckin' invented post-punk. Would I care for that shit if it didn't? Probably not, but because of fuckin' Wire now I have to give a fuck about these snobby fucks from Bauhaus and the idiots in PiL."

Strange - Galaxie 500

The record player in your room is mostly crowded around by his own collection, which was homeless up until recently. There's many things Simon likes about you, but taking in his records was to him what to others is a ring on their finger.

In a relationship with someone who thinks music is sacred, you cannot miss his gigs, they are mass. He loves to parade you around backstage to his bandmates and sing to you when they play, loves that you take your friends with you; so they can see you seeing him. Nothing makes him feel more desired than spotting you in the crowd mouthing his lyrics.

Post-shows getting wrecked in a local bar until they kick you out is his favourite thing to do, but he'll take backseat sex if he sees you're in the mood for it, subtly letting everyone know as he guides you holding you by the wrist. On colder seasons, the night dew will curtain the windows of the pick-up truck he borrows just in hopes that you'll give him the special look, inviting him for a quickie before heading home letting you pick the radio station.

Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain

[fangisms]

did you hear?

A/N: i just think he’s so lover.

gif creds: @qveenofthorns

Pairings: Neville Longbottom x Popular!Fem!Reader

Summary: Neville Longbottom accidentally starts a raunchy rumor about the popular girl in his potions class. And rumors fly. 1.0k words.

Warnings: ‘snogging’ help im not british and it shows, rumors, allusions to sex/promiscuous acts, teasing, pining, strangers/friends to lovers

Somehow Neville started a rumor about you. And somehow, through the unbelievably slippery walls of Hogwarts, the rumor made its way to you in less than a week.

It was an accident, honestly. And people kept blowing it way out of proportion. You were popular, more popular than he could ever hope to be, and when he said it, he had already accepted that nothing would ever really happen between the two of you. But this awful rumor made him sound boorish and borderline rabid when really it was supposed to be a harmless confession between friends.

"I heard Neville Longbottom wants to shag you out by the Quidditch pitch."

Even from a few tables down, he could see the mortification fall over your face like a black veil. Your friend giggled as she pulled away from whispering in your ear, and you clapped a hand over your mouth. He had to look away when your eyes flicked to meet his. Your friends spend the rest of lunch hour teasing you and snickering about him while you seem to shrink in on yourself.

Neville manages to avoid you where he can in the halls: taking the longer route, hiding in large groups. But none of it is very fruitful when you've got a very similar class schedule. In fact, despite his efforts, he spends nearly every passing period just behind you and sometimes even right beside you. Apparently, he's also got a clear shot of you from where he sits in the classes you share and you're even table mates in potions. Of course, he knew all of this before that nasty rumor was spread, he's just become hyperaware of it since then.

After making it through the week without too much tension, he finds himself scanning the pages of his Water Plants textbook in the Great Hall and not retaining any of the information. And as he props his chin in his hand, he notices you settle into the seat directly across from him, flashing him a quick smile before opening your own book.

He sits up, glancing around the room to find Snape preoccupied with a group of raucous students from Slytherin.

A small, crumpled piece of parchment rolls its way to your side of the table, stopping just before it topples over the edge. You set your book in your lap and look over your shoulder before unraveling the torn paper.

"I'm assuming you've heard the news by now."

A smile creeps onto your face as you flatten out the slip of paper and write your own message on the backside. You slide it across the table and just barely catch his eye.

"Here and there."

But he knows you mean just about every five seconds because this cursed rumor has been inescapable for as long as its existed. You slide the cover of the Hogwarts Gazette over as well. It's entitled, "Things Heat Up Between Popular Witch and Nerdy Wizard" just above a picture of the two of you smiling at each other in class with a few smaller headlines like, "The Rumors are True!" and "What's Next for the Unlikely Couple?"

He blinks. Who's reading this rubbish? Scratch that, who's writing this rubbish and how hard would it be to mame them?

"I'm sorry about that, it was supposed to be an inside joke. Honestly, I would never say something that awful in the first place. And especially not about you."

You give him a sympathetic smile and crumple the page and his note into a ball before sending back a new slip.

"I know."

He half-smiles before attempting to read again. But you toss him another scrap of paper.

"So what did you say then?"

You giggle when he flushes a bright pink before squinting at you and scribbling across the page.

"Something or other about wanting to snog a certain pretty girl. It was never meant to go past first base, honestly. Pure intentions!"

You shove the used paper in your pocket and glance over your shoulder with a mischievous look before delicately folding another piece and setting it in the center of his textbook. He opens it. But he doesn't get the chance to read it before it's snatched out of his grasp by a pale hand.

"Mr Longbottom," Snape drawls, "would you care to read this aloud since you two have insisted on interrupting your fellow students' focus?"

You hide your giggles behind your hand and Neville glares at you while Snape ushers him into the aisle.

He looks down the note and groans.

"How about those Quidditch Pitch seats?"

...

"Very funny," Neville grumbles while you hold his shoulder to steady yourself from convulsing with laughter.

"Your face! You should have seen your face!" You tease, tears nearly streaming down your face when you clutch the sleeve of his sweater.

"You set me up," he says, trying not to smile when you purse your lips.

"You started a rumor about me!"

"On accident."

You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side. "Then yes. I set you up. On accident. Walk me to Trelawney's?"

He rolls his eyes and offers his arm for you to loop yours through. You walk beside each other in silence nearly half the way, dodging confused looks and bothersome jeers from your friends.

"So," you mumble, looking at him with a cocked brow, "you really think I'm pretty?"

Neville shrugs. "And snoggable, I suppose."

He looks down at you and thinks he's never acted so cool around someone he likes so much. He thinks you're more than pretty and he wants to be able to tell you, but as you round the corner, the open classroom leers at you like a slippery snake. He spares you one last look and you peer up at him like a little dove. He goes pink.

You stop in the doorway and beckon him closer. And you think the nearly contemptuous smile on his face is new and ill-fitting but he's handsome nonetheless. You hold his chin and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before ducking into the classroom.

"See you in potions, Neville."

masterlist

[777heavengirl]

request: omg i loved your drabble with sirius and ravenclaw! reader 🥹 could you perhaps write with the same pairing when she gets really jealous and would rather die than admit it <3

note: sorry it took me a bit to get to this but yas i rlly hope you enjoy it!!! :D it was fun to write, its around 1238 words ! warnings: n/a masterlist

You glared at the back of Sirius’s head with intensity, as if the boy could feel it. His potions partner giggled and gripped his bicep at some stupid sarcastic comment he made. Sirius was brilliant at potions, yet he never paid attention. He severely lacked with the essays, but his potions were infuriatingly well done, so he always took it easy and his partner never did anything besides fawn over him. No matter who it was.

The bimbo next to him was doing that very well.

“It's rubbish isn't it?” Xenophilius, your partner, was eccentric, to say the least. Not in a bad way, normally you and him had a fun time and managed to do a good enough job, thanks to your many hours at the library, however, today was a lackluster performance. According to Slughorn, the potion was supposed to be an ‘eclectic orange!’ and yours was almost terracotta. You didn’t know what he meant by eclectic but it for sure wasn’t this.

"Yes, I suppose you could say so"

Xenophilius was in his own world half the time and certainly did not know what was going on in your class and you had been a bit preoccupied today. Watching the stupid witch cling to your boyfriend. You wouldn’t dream of admitting it to him, but it stung to watch his housemate fawn over him, you knew there was no threat— he complained about how useless she was often enough that you knew he was simply exasperated with her. But he never pushed her away, and you knew it was in an effort to vex you. So you glared and pouted behind his back. Almost as if he could feel it Sirius turned his head towards you, sending you a wink over his shoulder.

Bastard.

”Don’t worry so much Xeno,” you muttered as you both peered into your simmering cauldron, watching the marmalade-orange swirl with a grimace. He looked at you from over his thin-framed glasses, peeling his eyes with a hint of nervousness. You maintained your cool composure. “I’ll get it fixed,”

He gave a weak smile, leaning back on his stool. People were starting to bottle their concoctions, so you did the same. Giving the small vial to Xenophilius to walk up to the Slughorn’s desk. He stared at the very wrongly colored liquid in discontent and you shot him an award-winning smile.

It was tricky to get the timing right. But Sirius, as much as you loved him, was predictable. He gave his small vial to his partner, and the two fell in step with you and Xenophilius. 

“So, no explosions today?”

”That was one time, you need to let it go,” You rolled your eyes as a smirk slid onto his lips. Two weeks ago your cauldron bursted into ash, Xenophilius added one too many slices of dugbog tongue, and the entire potion immediately turned to dust. Slughorn found it quite hilarious having never seen such a thing! you were grateful the jolly man let you restart otherwise your grade would be down the gutter. Xenophilius started adding only stuff you had measured beforehand. 

“I’m just surprised such bright Ravenclaws such as yourselves managed to do such a thing” he basically giggled out the statement, enjoying the reddening of your cheeks and the way you tried to play it off. His partner, predictably so, started to try to get closer to Sirius and ended up ahead of the two of you. You gave Xenophilius a small push to do the same. As much as you liked your potions partner, your housemate was the definition of ditzy. He quickly lost balance and bumped into Sirius’s partner, the both of them dropping the vials. 

“Arresto momentum” Your wand work had been quick enough to hold them in the air just before they hit the cobblestone, and you were quick to bend down to grab them. “Here you go Hilda-“ you handed her one of the vials back.

”It’s Brenda,” 

“I really could not care less,” You smiled at her, genuinely so and Sirius couldn’t help but to bark out a laugh.

”A yes Ms Y/L/N, Mr Lovegood, I trust we had no issues today?”

Xenophilius scratched the back of his head, opening his mouth to confess that it had gone less than stellar, you quickly kicked his foot to shut him up.

”I believe we did swell professor” You handed him the vial, the now ‘eclectic’ orange potion in his hand made his eyes sparkle with delight.

“And that you did, flawless work you two” You smiled widely and shot Sirius a smirk. His smirk fell from his face as he grabbed the vial from his partner, staring at the terracotta-colored liquid. You walked away quickly, dragging Xenophilius to clean up your station waving your wand with quiet spells to get everything in order before you left.

”May I know what we just did?”

”We did stellar is what we did, on top of that I settled scores so continue telling me about these marbles of yours”

"They're called Nargles, and well basically-"

"You're a vicious minx doll, sorry Xeno-" Sirius sauntered over, shooting Xeno a small smile before turning to you with a scowl. "Have we considered you were sorted into the wrong house?"

"Whatever do you mean?" You bid Xenophilius goodbye with a wave and picked up your bag, smiling innocently at your boyfriend. Sirius, ever the gentleman, quickly snatched your bag onto his own shoulder. 

"I mean, that I know you switched them," he whispered in your ear "You should've been sorted into Slytherin," he tsk'd as he shook his head and you couldn't help but laugh. 

"Honestly Sirius, I don't know where you get these ideas, maybe you were just too distracted with Ms. Hilda over there and botched it"

"Doll, we both know I don't botch potions," he had his arm around your shoulders as you walked, his lips ghosting over your ear as he pulled you against him. "green isn't your color, don't get jealous now,"

"The last thing I'd ever be, is jealous" You laughed sarcastically, rolling your eyes. Over your dead body.

"Oh is that so?"

"Indeed," 

"Then you won't care that I have to go in later and redo it with Brenda," you couldn't help the scowl that formed on your face, brows furrowed as you asked

"I thought we were supposed to go play on the pitch with James later" He laughed and pinched your cheek with his fingers.

"You got jealous and messed up my potion, now we both have to pay the price for it doll," you pushed him off now, his laughter bouncing off of the cobblestone. 

"Goodbye Sirius!" you waved him off as you started walking, weaving through the people in the halls.

"Oh come on-" he quickly caught up to you, pulling you into his arm, halting traffic. He smushed you against his side again, not letting you fight your way out of his embrace. "I was just having a laugh love, I had enough for a second vial and gave him that one" you hummed in acknowledgment. 

"Not funny, for the record I was not jealous-"

"If you say so love," he pressed a kiss to your cheek "but for the record, there's no need to be jealous, I'm yours" You elbowed him in the ribs, a barked laugh leaving him again, a small smile gracing your face.

[wosoamazing]

Too Late To Be Fair

Warnings: death (caused by drunk driver), mentions of emotional abuse (R as a child), mentions of drinking and drunks, implications of self doubt and associated things, wishing someone would die. Please let me know if anything else.

Note: Grace is a fake player, due to previous ideas and maybe future ideas I had to make a player up... she does some things none of the girls would ever do....

A/N: Story inspired by Pray (Jessie Murph) & Mansion (NF) - and other things but I listened to these songs and I was like ooo good story idea. There probs will be a part 2. I hope you like it - also I know I said one of the McFoord fics would be out next but um yeah...

“Y/N We’re sorry to inform you but your Dad was in a car accident he was hit by a drunk driver” you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony, you dad the drunk being hit by a drunk driver. Everyone looked at you in disbelief.

“Y/N that’s not very appropriate,” Grace said, before others death stared her, clearly not knowing your situation, of course you were going to blow, especially at her, the thing you had wished for, for so long, finally happened, yet just after you cut him off, so it didn’t matter, it didn’t mean you could have an easier childhood, it was just another way of the universe punishing you. Waiting until you had moved out, cut your ties and in the spotlight, to finally kill him. Almost exactly a year since you cut him off, won the trial, got the restraining order, the one which he protested, causing the gruelling 3 day trial, to decide whether it was needed or not.

“Oh, sorry we don’t all have perfect little lives with perfect Mummies and Daddies, some of us actually had a shit childhood, faced real world problems, no rich bitch problems, oh Mummy and Daddy told me to pick up some rubbish, oh my life is shit they abuse me” you were dragged out of the locker room and into an empty physio room by Leah, Beth, Katie, Caitlin, and Steph who all sent you a glare when the door had shut, “Oh like she didn’t deserve it,” they all couldn’t but help let out a smile. There was an awkwardness in the room, as the girls all looked between each other not knowing how to approach this.

“You guys can all go, I’ve got this, thank you though,” Leah spoke, breaking the silence, everyone left except Beth, but Leah didn’t mind. You and Beth had a very close relationship, you had been close friends since your grassroots team, Beth helped you through the year of your life you realised you were gay, and then when you crushed on your now girlfriend, your then national Captain. Beth felt bad the year you told her about your Dad, she knew something was off but you never told anyone, barely anyone stills knows the full story, but that day Beth and you promised that you would be there for each other forever, and that was true, she had been there during your trial and so much more, and you were there for her when Dan broke up with her, Beth was really your rock and you were hers. Beth moved to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the room, giving you both space, whilst also being there in case you needed it. 

“Are you okay?” Leah couldn't find the right words, but she knew deep down the wrong words were what you needed her to say, you weren’t going to break, and release it all otherwise.

“Of course I’m not fucking okay Leah,” you looked up at her, she hadn’t even flinch at your words, instead she pulled you in for a hug. Which caused hot angry tears to fall from your eyes “Why now, why couldn’t it have been a year ago, 3 years, hell any time after I was 12. It’s unfair, its fucking unfair,” you paused, and Leah slowly slid her back down against the wall, bringing you down with her, your legs either side of hers as you sat in her lap. Your eyes connected with her soft kind caring blue eyes, and you could see how her lips formed a soft kind reassuring smile. You broke, big fat tears streamed down your face, as you sobbed, Leah gently pulled your body forward, so you were no longer sitting up, but leaning on her, she placed your head into the crock of her neck, before moving her arm to wrap around you lower body, her other hand was placed on your back, her thumb moving up and down, as she whispered reassuring words in your ear. 

“W-why now, when I’ve already lived the hard life, when I’ve been through all that shit. When I’m already screwed up, when I already have trust issues, when I already doubt myself everyday, so much so that I do it unconsciously” you sobbed into her neck.

“I know baby, it's not fair, and it's not right. But I’m here now, and I’ve got you.”

“I-I I used to wish he would die, I used to imagine cops showing up at the door when it was later than he used to come home, them telling me and me not being upset. I used to hope he just wouldn't come back from work trips. I used to imagine people asking me why I wasn’t upset when he died. I used to think of the fact that he was an alcoholic so he wouldn't get a kidney or liver transplant, unless it was a directed donation. I had to say yes, how could I say no if I was a match, but how could I say yes. You know how fucked up you feel when you think that stuff, you know how messed up I thought I was, but that was all his doing. It's just unfair.”

___

You had calmed back down and decided to go see all the girls again, the only problem was that no one had realised what song was playing in the locker room, too deep in conversation to be aware of it.

Waking up but wishing that you don’t. It’s something that I pray you’ll never know.

A song that connected with you so deeply sent you back over the edge, and you quickly spun on your feet and speed walked away, Beth followed behind you.

“What the actual fuck were you thinking McCabe” you girlfriend yelled.

“Wha?” the room had gone quiet and attention was drawn to the music, “Oh fuck, shit, sorry, we werent listening to it, its just automatically come on. I promise, I wasn't trying to be funny, I wouldn't do anything like that to Y/N”

Leah just turned around packing your bag and hers, “Tell Jonas we’re going home.”

“Sorry” Katie yelled as Leah went down the hall.

Leah found you sitting in the middle of one of the side hallways. Beth’s arms were wrapped around you and your body was shaking.

“Come on baby, let's go home.” She said as she placed a hand on your back, Beth slowly released her arms around you, which Leah quickly replaced with hers.

_____

“What’s on your mind? I know it's something more than your Dad” your girlfriend said as she sat down on the bed next to you, legs crossed and leaning back against the headboard. You had just arrived home.

“It's stupid.” you sighed, looking away from her eyes.

“I promise you, it's not stupid, it's your feelings, and your feelings are valid” she said, voice unwavering before pulling you into her lap.

“I don't know, I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” “What do you mean baby?” “I don't know, I just feel like something is going to happen, like something is going to happen and you’re going to realise that this was all a mistake and leave. You’re going to get sick of constantly being second guessed for no reason just because I’m messed up, because I don’t believe someone could actually love me this much. You’re going to get sick of me, and all my insecurities, ” she pulled your body into hers, your head finding a place in the crock of her neck, tears started to fall from your eyes, causing her neck to become wet.

“Y/N, baby, I love you so much, and I promise, there is not another shoe that will drop, we have been through so much together, we got through those 9 months together, we got through the trial together, and I promise we will get through whatever life throws at us together, forever, we will go through the highs and lows together. I love you so much, and I wouldn't want to spend my life with anyone else. I will never hurt you, I promise.”