#just to fuck me over later and make me feel stupid :)

[crescentofthegods]

STORMY THUNDERCLOUDS!

pairing: harry potter x fem!reader

request: harry didn’t think seeing you with someone like dean could make him feel so… worthless.

word count: 2,667

warnings: FLUFF, slightly angsty bc harry compares himself to dean, swear words, lovely little smooch at the end, added a bit of romione somewhere, jealous harry, reader lowkey overthinks everything and it makes harry feel like shit, etc etc!

author's note: i’m sorry this is so late anon😭😭 i will proofread this later but i hope you like it!

taglist: @floweringrott ♡

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BEING ‘JUST FRIENDS’ WITH YOU OF ALL PEOPLE was proving to be a dangerous task for the Chosen One. Finally, he’d figured out his feelings—whatever bond the pair of you shared was certainly not cordial. And, he knew you thought it too.

            So, naturally, he assumed there was an established sort of�� situationship. Harry hadn’t really talked about it with you, but he was just going with his gut; a stupid thing to think in all honesty.

            Clarification is key. But, because he hadn’t clarified it, he was forced to watch you have some sort of ‘conversation’ with Dean, who had just broken up with Ginny. There he was, laughing with you, touching your arm as you grinned in return, his fingers slowly trailing towards yours so they could intertwine—

            “You’re clenching your fists,” a feminine voice broke Harry’s agitated daze, his green eyes snapping towards Hermione, who sat before him, her expression written with disapproval. Ron was too busy stuffing his face to acknowledge the pair. Pressing his lips together in irritation, Harry cleared his throat, staring at his plate of food—bangers and mash. He didn’t even want it now, not with the image of Dean Thomas and you giggling together like you were the best of buds.

            The calm buzz of the Great Hall had returned. The sixth year hadn’t even noticed that he’d been staring for the last five minutes—why were you sitting with Dean? Sure, you shared Ancient Runes with him; that didn’t mean you had to walk and talk with him and even have lunch with the guy. You always sat with Harry—

            “Harry—you’ve summoned a thundercloud!” Hermione interrupted once again, sighing with exasperation as the brunette glanced towards the enchanted ceiling of the hall, only to see what his best friend had described—it was a thundercloud, and it looked ready to strike him; be that as it may, his bushy-haired friend was quick with her wand, causing the cloud to dissipate.

            “Thanks,” Harry mumbled, Hermione having to strain her neck just to hear him.

            “What is with you? You’re not even reading your stupid Half-Blood Prince book—”

            “It’s not stupid,” he was quick to defend his extremely informative textbook, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked away. “And, anyway, there’s nothing… ‘with me’. I’m fine.” Slurping his pumpkin juice, Ron practically guffawed, shaking his head as he placed his goblet down.

            “He’s staring again,” he nudged Hermione, Harry rolling his eyes as both of their gazes flitted towards you and Dean.

            “Ahhh,” she nodded, like she’d understood the situation at long last. “That makes sense, actually.” The Chosen One, who didn’t appreciate what his friends were trying to imply, simply scoffed, scratching the back of his head and forcing himself to stare at them instead of you.

            “I’m not bloody staring. You’re staring,” was all he said in response to Ron, zipping his mouth shut when he watched your approaching figure.

            “The fuck do you mean I’m staring—?”

            “Hi, guys!” you beamed, bright as a ray of sunshine per usual, sliding in right next to Harry as you flipped your hair over your shoulder, your strawberry-scented perfume wafting towards him as he tried not to collapse right in front of you.

            Everything about you was amazing. Your lovely, luscious locks. Your perfectly sculpted countenance. Your god-given body, not that he ogled it on a daily basis—Harry just appreciated how heavenly you appeared without even trying. An angel amongst men was what Harry once called you during a vulnerable moment… he meant every word. He’d say it every day just to see your graceful smile decorate your pretty lips, your dimples curated either side which made you shine like the planet Venus during the night.

            Despite every thought sprinting through his mind, every image of you imprinted on his neurons, he couldn’t let go of you and Dean. The way you grinned at him—only Harry could make you grin like that.

            “Harry?” your soft voice shattered his spiral, concerned eyes meeting his darkened ones, your fingers intertwining with his—Dean’s fingers had intertwined with yours—

            DEAN, DEAN, DEAN—

            “Are you alright?” Again, your murmur saved him from despair. But, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t do this. Not now, not with you.

            “Excuse me,” he muttered, suddenly sliding out of his seat, leaving you utterly befuddled as he stormed out of the Great Hall, messing with the Windsor knot of his tie as he walked. You gazed at his retreating form, thunderclouds anchoring the beats of your heart as you furrowed your eyebrows, meeting Hermione’s look of indignation—it wasn’t towards you, of course, but it was definitely aimed at Harry, who fled the scene like some coward. What was wrong with him?

            “Is he okay?” you asked quietly, fiddling with your fingers, your gaze flicking between ‘Mione and Ron. “Did… did he leave because of me?” Everything between you and Harry had been fine earlier. Perfect, actually. He had walked you to your Runes lesson, listening to you rant about the difference between ehwaz and eihwaz—

            “Genuinely makes no freaking sense. How the fuck am I supposed to remember that ehwaz means partnership and eihwaz means defense? They’re basically pronounced the exact same way!” You complained, pouting as you did so, your expression crumpling even further as you leaned your forehead against Harry’s shoulder, hearing his deep chuckle, his large hand cradling your head. “Don’t make me go in there…”

            “You know you want to. Professor Babbling’s been off sick and she’s finally back—you said you missed her.”

            “Well, yeah, but…” you ended up groaning quietly, hiding in his chest, Harry’s grin only widening. He loved seeing you like this; an adorable thing, you were, clinging to him like some bunny.

            “Come on, love,” he murmured, his arms wrapping around you (he didn’t want you to go either, but he knew he’d be seeing you at lunch). His lips brushed your hair as your head tucked itself under his chin—anyone would think you were some odd, but normal couple with the way you both were embracing each other in the middle of the hallway.

            They helped him, these hugs. Distracted him, even. Voldemort, Slughorn’s memory he was yet to retrieve, his impending NEWTs mocks… Everything was just too much—

            But, you… you were his saving grace.

            “Fine,” you grumbled, pulling away, albeit reluctantly, lifting your gaze—your sullen pout still stuck to your lips as Harry laughed. “But you better meet me in the hall after.”

            “Of course. Always.”

            “—Are you mental? No,” Ron retorted, pushing his plate away, wiping his mouth with his sleeve; Hermione grimaced, grabbing a napkin and wiping his mouth for him as Ron tried to reassure you. “You know Harry. He’s… just a bit thick sometimes. He forgot that textbook of his.”

            “Yeah! Yeah…” Hermione agreed, tossing the napkin onto the ginger’s plate as she continued. “He’ll be back.”

            “Right…” you nodded, feeling a little relieved as your eyes fell to your lap, swallowing the lump in your throat. He definitely did not leave because of you. Definitely not. Right.

            Fuck.

            “Uh…” you cleared your throat, standing up, running your hands through your hair before readjusting your robes. “I’ll just go after him—”

            “Yes! Yeah, you do that,” Ron complied, Hermione’s head bobbing quite enthusiastically.

            “We’ll be right here!”

            With that, you zoomed off, politely pushing past people, your heartbeats growing louder by the minute—like a storm had concurred. Did something happen between Runes and now? Did you do something wrong?

            “They need to shag already,” Ron mumbled in your absence, causing Hermione to gasp, swatting his arm like his comment had offended her personally. “What?”

DISTRACTIONS, DISTRACTIONS, DISTRACTIONS.

            He was doing anything just to keep the thought of you away. In the comforts of his own room, nothing could bother him—not Dean, not Voldemort, not Slughorn…

            Harry was on the floor of his dorm (shared with Ron, Seamus, Neville and damned Dean), the Marauders Map in his lap, just staring at the footsteps of random students going by—the pads of his fingers itched the ancient parchment, his lips pursed as if he was concentrating. A particular trail caught his eye, the prints belonging to Draco Malfoy, who had appeared in a random hallway out of nowhere; what was he up to?

            Still and all, Harry did not care for Malfoy. Not when your footsteps decorated the page all of a sudden, leaving the Great Hall… by yourself? Shaking his head, Harry looked elsewhere, desperate to see where… well. Anyone. He couldn’t talk to you. Not like this. He was the definition of cowardice. Despair. Being jealous over a guy was… a new thing. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this—

            Is this what love felt like? Is this what his father felt whenever his mother chose Snape over him?

            The difference was that Dean was a decent bloke. Nice. Respectful. Good with spells. Similar to Harry in that sense. But Dean wasn’t… cursed. He wasn’t the Boy who Lived. He wasn’t going to be the boy who would soon be Voldemort’s demise—Harry knew that was his only purpose. You could be normal with Dean. You couldn’t ever be normal with Harry…

            “Who are you spying on now?” The gentleness of your question splintered his deprecating thoughts, his head snapping towards the entrance of his dorm in slight surprise. He couldn’t tell if he was pleased or aggravated by your presence. For one thing, you caused his anxious tendencies to disappear. Anyhow, he was still peeved about Dean.

            Fucking perfect Dean Thomas out of all people.

            In your eyes, Harry merely grimaced—you had your own tendencies to contemplate and overthink… Harry was not grimacing (at least, not towards you), rather his expression was a mix of happiness and dreaded envy. Anyone could misinterpret that. The Chosen One was far too expressive, so much so that he’d normally get into quite a lot of trouble with Snape because of it.

            “I can leave… you seem, um, busy—” your smile had dropped, and Harry immediately cursed himself, interrupting you swiftly.

            “No!” his exclamation caught you off guard and he cleared his throat, looking away with coloured cheeks. “I mean, uh, no. Stay. Please,” his quiet mumble was purely out of shyness, in fear of rejection. You were special. A rainbow within a mass of thunderclouds.

            Thunderclouds that no longer caged your aching hearts.

            Your smile appeared as quickly as it left, the corners of your lips quirked up in a way that Harry knew it was genuine. He didn’t know if he was gaslighting himself, but he could’ve sworn you only smiled like this with him and no one else. In Harry’s eyes, your smile had fifteen different variations at the least.

            Shutting the door behind you, you walked towards where he sat by his bed, careful to not accidentally trample Ron’s many socks that scattered his side of the room. You tucked your locks behind your ears before sitting down beside him, pulling your knees to your chest, your bright eyes finding his face. Troubled. He looked troubled. And, even though his two best friends reassured you, you couldn’t help but ask him…

            “Did I do something wrong?” Your usually placid voice had now resounded to a disheartened whisper, something Harry was unintentionally the cause of. His head whipped around to meet your gaze, his eyebrows furrowed in slight devastation.

            His jealousy had caused you to feel like this. Damn you, Harry.

            “Of course not,” he assured, pushing the Marauder’s Map off his lap, his attention fully on you and you only. You nibbled your bottom lip, looking away from him, your knees relaxing.

            “But then… Why did you leave?” Reluctance embraced your tone like it was an old friend. Harry knew you well, knew you well enough to understand your anxieties. Your nerves. He hated himself for even assuming you and Dean had something going on—it was now clear that that hadn’t been the case.

            “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Harry sighed; it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. “It wasn’t you—it’s never you,” your eyes met as he spoke with that soft tone of his, a tone he only really reserved for you. “I was… uh,” he struggled to speak, struggled to voice why he was slightly upset. He would only look pathetic.

            You noticed this, of course. You always notice. Delicate fingers trailed towards his, your warm hand embracing his larger, calloused palm, comforting him. Reassuring him that you were there to listen. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he leaned against his bed, not finding the courage to look you in the eye anymore—the ceiling accepted his look of despair.

            “I was jealous, is all,” he admitted, bewildering you as he scoffed to himself. “Of you and… Dean.” His words had knocked you for a twist; out of all things, you hadn’t expected him to say that—he had been jealous the entire time? Your initial bewilderment dissipated, wanting to understand, well… why?

            “For what reason?” you asked, your lips parting as Harry’s head turned towards you.

            “Just… the way you were both interacting, I guess,” he muttered, not knowing how to explain it.

            “Interacting?” you repeated, amusement lacing your tone as he rolled your eyes—that smile you always adored found his lips.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, trying not to seem so affected by your quiet giggle in response. “You were both laughing and it just… set me off. I don’t know why,” he finished with a sigh, scratching his head after turning away from you, his eyes meeting the floor. “Dean’s everything I wish I could be. You might—” he stopped himself before he could go further, and that only increased your intrigue.

            “I might what?”

            “You might…” his eyes closed. Like he was defeated. Ready to accept his fate. “You might actually like me if I was more like him. If I wasn’t… the Chosen One.”

            He was met with silence. He couldn’t bring himself to even look at you, but you were in a plight of shock; you didn’t even realise that Harry had let go of your hand. Shock might actually be an understatement. You already gathered that the rumours were true—that he really was destined to end You-Know-Who once and for all. Nonetheless, what you were contemplating over and over in your head, was his confession.

            He liked me?

            “As in… more than friends?” Harry smiled then, a breathless chuckle escaping him—he adored you, adored that you always had to be absolutely sure.

            “Yeah. More than friends.” That was all you needed. Those four words. Those two sentences of reassurement to let you know that you weren’t just imagining this. And, you hated him, moreso yourself, for not telling you sooner. For making you overthink for the last couple of weeks.

            “Harry James Potter,” you exhaled, shaking your head with disbelief. “You really are as thick as Ron says.”

            “Wait. What—?”

            The softest of lips mingled with his as soon as you leaned in, testing the waters before Harry reeled you in completely, your hand landing on his chest so you could steady yourself. Your eyes were closed, Harry simply enjoying how they felt like his pillows, your lips. How they felt heavenly against his. Gentle, light, tender—nothing like the palpitating storms that bothered him daily. As you steadied yourself, his hands found your hips, bringing you as close as possible so you could settle in his lap, the pair of you unable to break the kiss as it developed into something more; hunger, need, desire. You could feel it escaping him—every word he couldn’t give voice to melted like molten, hugging your heart like it was something you were used to; the thunderclouds disappeared long ago, and yet, Harry was making sure they were gone for good.

            Lips locked together in a lovely embrace. Soft clicks filling the dorm like this was a normal occurrence.

            Harry had never felt more at home. You in his arms. You in his heart.

[restinslices]

Johnny W/ Scary Dog Privileges

So I've accepted that I do not wanna write a pt2 to Open Arms :D. At least not anytime soon. Rip.

Anywho, a video of Kimiko from The Boys popped up on my youtube and for some reason I wanted to write headcanons about Johnny W/ someone like that. Readers powers are superhuman strength, durability, agility, hearing and healing. The bitch can get blown up and will walk it off.

Johnny with scary dog privileges would really be something because we all know Johnny is a fucking fool when he wants to be

Is very aware that you're an intimidating person to others and milks that shit

And by "milks that shit" I don't mean he tries to do a bunch of crime or anything like that

I mean he'll say something like "hey Kung Lao, let's make a bet. Whoever wins in arm wrestling doesn't have to pay for lunch!"

"You're on!" "But we can choose champions to play for us" "Um, okay? Well I don't need a champion. Send your best warrior!" "Glad you said that!... Y/N-"

A filthy cheater

I do think the healing would freak him out sometimes

Goro rips your arms off and then five seconds later your arms are growing back but they're in this little baby stage

Keep that shit away from him. Do NOT touch him. He might vomit

"Wow, that's a new phobia"

Your neck is broken then seconds later you snap it back in place

"That was unfortunate" "THAT'S what you call what just happened to you?

Gives you a massager because he thinks all those broken bones must be causing you some sort of discomfort or stiffness

You feel completely fine but you appreciate the sentiment

"Come with me to ask Liu Kang (something stupid that he absolutely will not do" "Why do I have to go?" "He might do it if you're there"

I don't think the god will be spooked of the Deadpool/Wolverine variant, but okay Johnny

It's giving "ask my mom if you can stay over! She'll say yes to you!

I don't think he'd treat you as something scary though

It'll be like when people have big ass swole ass dogs and name them Princess

That is a demon. Let's be fr

"Is your face smashed in? Yes. Do you still look stunning? Yes"

"Bet you wish you had their powers Kenshi! Get it? Because then your eyes would've came back!... What do you mean that's insensitive?

"Have you considered becoming a stuntman?"

"So if I were to shoot you out of a canon-" "I'm way too civilized to be having this conversation"

It's the "Someone will die >:(" "Of fun! :D" meme

I just think it'd be really cute because of the fact that Johnny is such a jokester and can't take shit serious

He's such a jester type of character and he has this walking threat behind him

Johnny, my third favorite white man <3

Tumblr, the next time you delete something I'm writing, I'm coming up to HQ and heads will roll

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[sunkensaturn]

due to things out of my control i didn't get my check for last month nor this month, so if anyone could help me not be broke until i can get this fixed i would greatly appreciate it.

ko-fi patreon

[lannisterdaddyissues]

god why am i so fucking stupid. having adhd is truly a curse and i hate bearing it

[seventh-district]

7am, eating cold leftover teriyaki stir-fry for breakfast and crying over blorbos

[haarute]

something i realized in the recent years is that while my mom is a very nice person and i can understand why she is the way that she is sometimes, she had a history of always dismissing and throwing away things that were important to me, and in hindsight that certainly had an effect on both my trust in her and how much i was willing to ever share, and also just turned me into a dumpster goblin because i just gave up on ever having nice things so why bother ever caring about my personal space at all ✌️ i'll just live in the filth because we'll never have anything better after all !!

[backpackingspace]

Hey in my 'Penelope slipping into monsterhood is her unweaving her work for the first time fic' what if I made Athena/feel/ the snapping of the thread, she can feel the unraveling in her soul. What if I made it so that Penelope had taken a vow as Athena's blessed weaver. What if Athena was /pissed/ about this

[greyedian]

google search how to talk about a character without feeling like a dumb stupid fucking idiot

[pepprs]

ok. im going to make this post but i REALLY shouldn’t but i just am so devastated rn and need to not be alone in it and you guys are the only people i can talk to candidly about moving stuff rn for a lot of reasons. the reason im crying rn is because i just found out i made a massive error in my budget and it turns out that my net pay is barely over minimum wage and i cannot afford to live by myself. at all. unless i live off of savings in addition to income but even then that’s only going to help me for a couple months and anyway it’s extremely unwise bc i should save that money for getting a car etc etc. this is not entirely a bad thing because a) at least i can afford to… you know… live. and b) living with roommates will not be bad especially if i live with friends and/or strangers i come to be friends with. it’s just i really… i don’t know i just feel so sick to my stomach. it’s just that recent events have made it so clear to me that i need to teach myself how to live independently before i can live with other people (let alone function in the world, heal from trauma, etc.) healthily. i know it so deeply. and it can’t happen for me. this is confirmation. this is confirmation and there’s nothing that can change it. rent is too high (even for shitty apartments in the area which let’s be real most of them are… it’s too high!) and over half of my income is going to taxes and deductions and bills and student loans. i feel so hopeless

[cavity-collector]

i genuinely need to be put down like a dog i cant do this anymore man holy shit

[tittyinfinity]

when you're disabled, being financially abused by your parents never ends

[eldritchqueerture]

.

[elytrafemme]

i know it's not good for me to think about this but sometimes i remember how i had very close mutuals borderline friends who ended up soft-blocking me and becoming hard core zionists and i feel like i should be allowed to claw off my wallpaper and scream

[99naive]

can't get my hotspot to open the fucking formatting generator when all i wanna do is WRITE THIS IS FUCKING EVIL .

[charliesinfern0]

I’m experiencing symptoms