#the way I literally am begging for something to do
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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 what letter? sirius, what letter?
pairing: james potter x f!reader
➥ In which, you never planned on talking to james ever again, not after your last encounter with him. Luckily Sirius saves the day.
an: omg last chapter, and its my fav.... hopefully this convinces some of y'all to watch anne with an e....I LOVE awae. ALSO!! i’m going to start writing all requests in my inbox, send some! i’m gonna start with the oldest then the more recent ones! also, im not ignoring your request if it takes a while😭 i’ll be writing then get stuck on what to do then move onto the next thing… bad habit but😭
Warnings: angst, fluff, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), another letter James wrote gets lost ayyyyy, literally that's all…
series masterlist ! - divider creds: i-mmaculatus & dollywons
It was now June, the end of your final year at Hogwarts. The castle, which had been your home for the past seven years, seemed to hum with the bittersweet energy of goodbyes. If you had told your eleven-year-old self that you’d be leaving these halls without James, she would’ve been heartbroken—devastated, even.
Back then, you’d believed in the stories. You’d believed that the boy who made your heart race would be the one you’d leave Hogwarts with, hand in hand, ready to take on the world together. But life had a way of unraveling those childish dreams, weaving something far more complicated in their place.
James hadn’t spoken to you since that night—since you’d spilled your heart out and he’d told you to marry Finn. It wasn’t anger or malice that kept you apart, but a quiet, mutual understanding that too much had been said, and yet not enough to bring you back to where you were before.
You told yourself it was better this way.
Finn was everything a girl could hope for: kind, considerate, and endlessly patient. He never pressured you for answers when your mind drifted during a conversation, never asked why you’d go quiet whenever someone mentioned James. You were grateful for that. But as the end of term feast approached, with the prospect of leaving Hogwarts forever hanging over you, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything left unsaid.
James sat at the Gryffindor table, surrounded by his friends, but the usual Marauder energy was dampened. He’d won the Quidditch Cup, aced his N.E.W.T.s, and had offers from the most prestigious Quidditch teams waiting for him. By all accounts, he should’ve been ecstatic. But as he watched you sitting across the Great Hall, laughing softly at something Finn said, James felt hollow.
He’d told himself he was doing the right thing. That night in the common room, when you’d asked him if there was a chance for the two of you, he’d convinced himself that pushing you toward Finn was what you deserved. Stability. A future he couldn’t promise.
But watching you now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d made a mistake.
“Mate,” Sirius said quietly, nudging James with his elbow, “you’re staring again.”
James tore his gaze away, his jaw tightening. “I wasn’t staring,” he muttered, though his friends knew better.
“You’ve got one night left,” Sirius continued, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “If you’re going to do something about this, now’s your chance.”
James shook his head, laughing bitterly. “What am I supposed to do? Walk up to her, tell her I’m an idiot, and beg her to take me back? She’s with Finn now, Pads. She’s happy.”
“Is she?” Remus asked quietly, his eyes flicking to you. “Because from where I’m sitting, she looks like someone who’s convincing herself she’s happy.”
James didn’t respond for a while, this was his last chance of seeing her–he couldn’t lose her.
“You're right. I’m going to see her tonight. I’ll tell her that I missed what she was trying to tell me!” James said, now in a bit of a better mood.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
Once night fell, James made his way to your dormitory. He prayed no one but you would be there. Out of your four roommates, he only knew two, and he’d seen them sitting in the common room without you. That meant you had to be in your dorm, right?
The corridors were quiet but not empty. Most of the dormitory doors were open, with people wandering in and out. It didn’t take long for him to find your door—how could he forget it when he’d been inside so many times before?
James stepped in cautiously, but his heart sank when he realized the room was empty. You weren’t there. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. This was supposed to be it—the last time he’d ever get a chance to talk to you—and you weren’t even here.
His eyes wandered to your side of the room. It was unusually tidy, and most of your belongings were already packed away. The only things left were a few scattered pieces of parchment, a quill, an inkpot, and an envelope on the desk.
Before he even realized what he was doing, James sat down at your desk. His hand hovered over the parchment for a moment before he began to write, his thoughts spilling out faster than he could process them.
“Dear… (Y/N),” he murmured to himself as the words took shape. “I’m sorry... I was confused before. I’m not anymore. I love you. –James.
P.S. May I please... have Buddy back?”
James smiled faintly as he reread the last part. Buddy was the stuffed animal you’d gifted him on his birthday before you’d snatched it back after losing a bet. If things didn’t work out, at least he’d have something to remind him of what you two once had. Maybe he’d even pass it on to his future child—if he had one.
He quickly folded the note, wrote your name on it and placed it neatly on your desk.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
You’d spent almost the entire day with Finn, and at first, everything seemed fine. But, as always, the cracks begin to show, and yet another argument erupted.
“Do you not trust me?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended, though the bitterness behind it was impossible to hide.
“No, I don’t. No man would if they were in my place!” Finn shot back, his tone defensive, the edge in his words cutting deeper than he realized.
You scoffed, the sting of his accusation hitting harder than you wanted to admit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to stay away from James,” he said, his voice rising. “Someone told me they saw you two talking alone in a corridor. I know you used to be good friends, but you haven’t spoken in months. You’ve never told me why, so I can only assume the worst!”
“We stopped talking for a reason I don’t even understand myself!” you fired back, your frustration bubbling over, your voice shaking with the weight of the truth.
Finn’s expression darkened, his lips curling into a bitter frown. “Yeah, sure. I totally believe you. He definitely didn’t distance himself because he fancies you. He looks at you the way I do.”
His words were a gut punch, the weight of his jealousy and mistrust pressing down on you. For a moment, you stood frozen, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, taking a deep, steadying breath, you decided you were done dancing around the truth.
“He doesn’t fancy me,” you said, your voice trembling, though you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “And I know that for a fact. Since you want honesty, fine. I dragged James out of that party. I told him…” You hesitated, but the words came spilling out before you could stop them. “I told him how much I love him. That I’d leave you if he wanted me to. And do you know what he said?”
Finn’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, so you pressed on, tears now streaming freely down your face.
“He told me you’re a great guy. That I deserve you. He didn’t even tell me he loved me back.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Finn stood there, his expression unreadable, his jaw set like stone. You couldn’t tell if he was angry, hurt, or simply done. After what felt like an eternity, he turned on his heel and walked out without a word, leaving you alone in his empty dormitory.
You stood there for a moment, stunned, as the weight of what had just happened settled over you. Was this the end of whatever fragile future you’d tried to build with Finn? You didn’t know. All you knew was that the room felt stifling, the air too thick to breathe.
Wiping the tears from your cheeks, you pulled yourself together enough to leave. Sitting here, drowning in your own thoughts, wasn’t going to help. You needed air, a distraction—anything to stop the whirlwind in your mind.
The cool night air greeted you as you made your way to the Black Lake. The walk was long, but with every step, your nerves began to settle. The gentle lapping of the water and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze worked to quiet the storm in your head, if only for a little while.
As you stood by the Black Lake, the moonlight dancing across the rippling water, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep your emotions from unraveling. Finn's words echoed in your mind, but instead of providing any sense of resolution, they left you with a heavier burden of confusion and regret.
You had laid everything bare—your feelings for James, your failed attempt to move on with Finn—and now, for the first time in ages, you felt unmoored. The certainty you’d desperately tried to force, the future you envisioned with Finn, had shattered. All that remained were questions, unanswered and painful.
You closed your eyes, letting the cool breeze wash over you, as though trying to cleanse the ache that lingered in your chest. Your heart still aches for James, despite everything. But what was the point in holding onto hope? He had made his feelings—or lack thereof—clear. And now Finn, the only thread that had tied you to some semblance of stability, was slipping away too.
After what felt like an eternity of sitting there in solitude, you made your way back to Hogwarts. When you reached your dorm, you didn’t bother tidying the mess on your desk. The next person who would stay there would find scattered pieces of parchment, half-used ink, and a neglected quill—unless the house-elves came to clean and dispose of it all.
You opened your luggage, only to realize you’d packed everything, leaving no clothes behind for the night or morning. That’s when your eyes landed on the small stuffed bear. A wave of emotions washed over you at the sight of it. You wiped away the tears you hadn't even realized had been falling. Sniffling, you stood up and made your way to the washroom to shower, hoping the warm water would wash away at least some of the weight on your heart.
Once you were out of the shower, the thoughts continued to swirl in your mind. After a long pause, you decided to write to James. You didn’t think you could face him—not after he rejected you, not when your emotions were still raw and all over the place.
Dear James, Since we are parting ways, perhaps forever, I feel I must unburden my heart. You are the fond object of my affection and my desire. You, and you alone, are the keeper of the key to my heart. Please don’t be alarmed--I don’t expect your favor--but I can’t, in good conscience, not reveal myself. I’m not engaged--nor will I be--unless, it’s to you, James. It always has been and always will be you.
With love, (Y/N)
PS: Here’s Buddy, in case you want him. I don’t think I can keep him without crying whenever I see him.
As you finished the letter, you sat there, staring at the words that held every ounce of your vulnerability. Your hands trembled as you carefully folded the parchment and slid it into an envelope. For a moment, you hesitated. Doubts surged in your mind—was this the right thing to do? What if he never read it? What if this only made everything worse?
But deep down, you knew it was the only way to find closure. You couldn’t carry these feelings any longer, locked away inside. This letter wasn’t just for him—it was for you too, a way to finally release the emotions that had weighed you down for so long.
You reached for Buddy, the small stuffed bear that had once brought you so much comfort. Seeing him now only reopened old wounds, but at the same time, he reminded you of the love you had for James—the love you still had, even though it wasn’t returned. You hugged Buddy tightly one last time, letting a few tears fall before tucking him into the package with the letter.
You had considered waiting until morning to deliver it, but the thought of sleeping on it felt impossible. You needed to let go of this weight before you could rest. So, once all your roommates were asleep, you slipped out of the dorm and made your way to James' room. The dorm was empty, just as you'd expected. Whenever there was a holiday, the boys would often roam the grounds late into the night, returning well after curfew.
You placed the package—Buddy and the letter—gently on James' bed. You glanced around the room, the usually cluttered space now oddly quiet and foreign. Standing in it alone, you couldn’t shake the feeling of how much had changed. With a final, shaky breath, you turned and left, the door clicking softly behind you as you disappeared into the darkness.
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
It was nearing three-thirty in the morning when the boys finally returned. Sirius stumbled in, clearly drunk beyond belief, while Remus went straight to the shower, and Peter collapsed into his bed, too tired to think. James, however, stood frozen in his doorway.
His eyes were locked on a small brown-covered package resting on his bed. Confusion washed over him as he approached. He quickly tore it open, finding a folded piece of parchment with his name written in your handwriting—and Buddy.
His chest tightened with anger. "Oh, really, (Y/N)? You couldn’t even face me? World class!" His voice was laced with frustration as his eyes flicked from the bear to the letter. All he could focus on was how you'd read his letter and now returned Buddy.
You actually gave Buddy back? He remembered you promising, no—vowing—never to part with it, no matter what. Yes, he'd asked for it, but this… this was more than just a simple request.
Without thinking, James ripped the letter apart. His fists clenched around the torn pieces as he made his way into the empty common room. In a fit of rage, he threw the scraps into the fire.
As the flames flickered, a sudden thought struck him, and his stomach dropped. “What if... oh, shit!” he muttered, cursing himself. What if you had come to speak to him, only to find he wasn’t in the dorm, and in desperation, wrote that letter? What if it was your way of telling him that you felt the same, that you regretted everything, and that you still cared?
But now, it was too late. The letter was gone, burned to ash.
James stood frozen, clutching the remaining pieces of the letter in his hands, the ink smudging as he frantically pieced together the broken words:
Parting ways... Don't... Heart... Finn... Engaged... Don't love... Alarmed... Not... Alone... Forever...
What was all of this? Engaged to Finn? You just met him, for Merlin’s sake! And why would you tell him that in the letter? Did you want to make him feel worse, to confirm that you had truly moved on?
The sound of a door creaking open snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Remus stepping into the room, his expression one of quiet surprise. With Sirius and Peter asleep, James saw no reason to keep this to himself any longer. Remus was always the one who could make sense of things, the one who could calm him down when nothing else could.
“Remus, don’t go back to sleep, please," James blurted, pacing in frustration. "I’ve got breaking news! That night at the party? Forget it. Turns out (Y/N) doesn’t love me after all. She wrote me a letter explaining it—and told me she’s engaged to Finn!”
Remus paused, looking at him with wide eyes. “You told yourself—and us—that you would get over her. If she’s really engaged to Finn, then... let’s start now.”
James shook his head, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t, Remus.”
“You can, and you will,” Remus said firmly, his tone softer but still resolute. “Once you’re over her, you’ll be able to move on. It’ll be a new chapter, James—one without her in it.”
James’s face twisted in pain. “I want to be happy, Remus. I just can’t. (Y/N) is marrying the man of her dreams, and that man isn’t me.”
Remus sighed, stepping closer to his friend. He knew James too well, and knew how deep this went. “Let’s go to bed,” Remus said gently. “We’ve got an early morning ahead of us. Maybe you’ll have a chance to speak to her tomorrow? Tell her—and the others,” he added, gesturing toward Peter and Sirius, “maybe they’ll have a better plan for you.”
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
You were on the train now, staring out the window as the platform slowly filled with students saying their last goodbyes. You were ready to go home—or at least as ready as you could be. Ready to return to your parents, who still thought you were with Finn. The truth of your relationship, however, was far murkier. You and Finn hadn’t officially broken things off, but the silence that followed your last argument felt louder than any words could. It was obvious, even if neither of you had said it out loud.
The weight of everything sat heavily on your shoulders as you watched the scene outside. Friends hugged tightly, some with tears streaming down their faces, while others exchanged laughs and promises to write over the summer. There was a bittersweetness to it all—a kind of closure, even in the goodbyes. But you didn’t feel that closure. Instead, you felt like you were caught in a loop of unresolved emotions and unanswered questions.
You’d managed to find an empty compartment. It wasn’t hard when you were one of the first to board while everyone else lingered, reluctant to leave the castle behind. The quiet was what you needed—time to think, to breathe, to let the ache in your chest settle.
Diana, who's your best friend and practically your sister from how close you two are and your friends had offered to sit with you, but you told them you wanted to be alone. They understood, of course. They always did. You’d confided in them about what had happened with Finn, and while they’d tried to offer their support, you knew this was something you needed to process on your own. They couldn’t fix what was broken—not with Finn, and not with James.
The hum of the train as it prepared for departure filled the air, a low, steady rhythm that somehow felt comforting. You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, watching as more students climbed aboard . You envied the lightness in some of the students—their laughter, their certainty about who they were and where they stood with the people in their lives.
For you, everything felt like it was in limbo. The argument with Finn had left you reeling, unsure of what came next. And then there was James—the boy who had once been your closest friend, who still lingered in your thoughts even after months of strained silence.
You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment as the train gave a soft lurch, signaling the start of its journey. Home felt both too far away and far too close.
The train began to pick up speed, the platform slowly fading into the distance as the familiar rolling hills of the countryside came into view. You opened your eyes, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The quiet of the compartment wrapped around you like a fragile cocoon, but your thoughts refused to settle.
James. His name echoed in your mind like a song you couldn’t quite forget. You hadn’t seen him at the station, though you’d looked for him instinctively. The habit was hard to break, no matter how strained things had become between the two of you.
You thought back to that day in Finn’s dorm, where everything had shifted. The weight of your confession to Finn, the raw honesty, and the pain that followed. But it wasn’t Finn’s face you pictured now—it was James’s. His messy hair, his lopsided grin, the way his hazel eyes lit up when he laughed. And the way those same eyes had avoided yours for months, the distance between you growing wider with each passing day.
You shook your head, as if the motion could clear your mind. It didn’t. Instead, it only made the ache in your chest deepen. The truth was, you missed him. More than you cared to admit, even to yourself.
It wasn’t just the friendship you missed, though that alone had been a loss. It was the way he’d always been there, the way he could make you laugh even on your worst days, the way he’d look at you like you were the most important person in the world. Somewhere along the way, things had changed, and you weren’t sure if you could ever get back to where you’d been.
The train rattled along the tracks, the countryside blurring past the window. You wrapped your arms around yourself, as if you could ward off the coldness that had settled deep in your chest. For a fleeting moment, you wished James were here, sitting across from you like he used to. You could almost hear his voice, teasing you about something silly, his laughter filling the space between you. But the compartment was empty, and the silence felt heavier because of it.
You leaned your forehead against the glass, the cool surface grounding you. Maybe this summer would give you the space you needed to figure things out. Maybe time apart would help you understand what you really wanted, and what you were willing to fight for. But as the train carried you further away from Hogwarts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers you were looking for weren’t waiting for you at home—they were somewhere back there, tangled up in the boy you couldn’t stop thinking about.
You closed your eyes again, letting the rhythmic motion of the train lull you into a state of uneasy calm. The journey home had only just begun, but you already felt like you were carrying the weight of an entire year’s worth of emotions with you. And no matter how far the train took you, there was one thing you couldn’t seem to leave behind: the hope that somehow, someday, you and James could find your way back to each other.
A knock startled you awake. For a fleeting moment, you hoped it might be James, but when you opened the door, it was Diana. Despite your insistence on wanting no company, you never minded hers. You mustered a small smile as she entered.
“So,” Diana began, sitting across from you, “you wrote him a letter saying you still love him?”
“Yes,” you replied softly, avoiding her gaze.
“And he hasn’t talked to you?”
“Mhm.”
“And you called it off with Finn?”
“Well...” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I still need to, but he despises me now. Once I get home, I’ll owl him. He’s... not exactly happy right now.”
“Because of the fight?” Diana’s tone grew sharper. “I know you lied to us. It wasn’t about your parents, was it? If you want to tell me the real reason, just say it.”
You hesitated, your throat tightening. “I... I ruined it with him. He got mad about James, and I snapped. I told him what I told James at the party. He didn’t even say anything; he just stood there, then left. We haven’t spoken since. I haven’t even told my parents yet—I don’t know if he’s told them.”
“Wow...” Diana’s expression was a mix of disbelief and frustration. “And James hasn’t said anything? You went through all that struggle, and he’s just blatantly ignoring you?”
“I know! But maybe I shouldn’t have told him how I felt again. Remember what happened at the party?”
Diana softened, reaching out to touch your hand. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I can’t imagine being in your situation.”
“It doesn’t even matter anymore,” you mumbled, though the lump in your throat betrayed your words.
“Of course it matters!” Diana said firmly. “Finn demanded the truth and then got mad when you gave it to him? That’s not fair!”
“Well, at least I won’t be engaged to him anymore.”
“When did he pro—” Diana started, but her words were cut off as Sirius suddenly barged into the compartment.
None of you had noticed him outside, and you had no idea how long he’d been listening.
“How much did you hear?” Diana demanded, her eyes narrowing.
“Enough to know that (Y/N) is no longer with that Finn bloke,” Sirius replied with a grin that was far too smug for the situation.
“Well, if you’d listened more, you’d also know—” Diana began again, but Sirius interrupted her too.
“(Y/N), have you even tried to speak to James about this?!”
“Had I had the opportunity, I would have,” you shot back, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “In fact, I went over—”
“You’ve had every opportunity!” Sirius exclaimed, cutting you off again. You stared at him, then at Diana, who looked just as shocked as you felt.
“Admit it,” Sirius said, his voice rising. “You’ve been smitten with James since the moment you two met! The clues have been everywhere! And don’t deny that you were completely beguiled by him at the party—even though you were dating some random bloke you barely knew!”
“That’s not—” you started, but Sirius plowed on, his words tumbling out in a rush.
“Then you drag James out of the party, demand to know how he feels about you, and give him all of thirty seconds to decide your entire future!”
“Well, that’s because—”
“And worst of all,” Sirius thundered, ignoring you, “you callously ignored the letter James wrote to you, where he told you he loved you!”
If confusion were a person, it would have been you at that moment. You exchanged a bewildered look with Diana.
“What letter?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Even Sirius looked thrown off. “What do you mean, ‘What letter?’”
“Sirius,” you said more firmly, standing now. “What letter?”
“The letter was the whole reason he stopped talking to you!” Sirius snapped. “He put one in your luggage—slipped it into a pocket—and then left another on your desk yesterday!”
You blinked, your mind racing. “Which pocket? I don’t use most of them, and I left everything on my desk at Hogwarts—it was just extra parchment. Why didn’t he just tell me?”
“How am I supposed to know?” Sirius said with a shrug. “But what are you waiting for? Go find James! He’s crying like a bloody baby—that’s the only reason I came to find you. Took me five minutes to track you down!”
You nodded quickly and scrambled to your feet, your heart pounding like a drum. You knew exactly where James would be. After sharing the same train compartment for seven years, you could find it blindfolded, even in your sleep.
Without hesitation, you hurried down the train, determination and nerves tangling in your chest like vines. Your footsteps echoed faintly against the narrow corridor, your mind racing ahead.
Then you froze.
James’ laugh drifted through the crack in the door—warm, familiar, and effortless. It was the kind of laugh that made the world tilt, like gravity had shifted just enough to pull you toward him. The sound wrapped around you, igniting a fire in your chest and a tremor in your hands.
You pressed a shaky palm against the cool surface of the compartment door, drawing in a deep breath.
This is it.
With a steadying exhale, you slid the door open. The soft creak barely registered over the hammering in your ears.
“James,” you began, your voice trembling but determined. “Can we… could we talk? Please. If that’s okay with you?”
James froze mid-laugh, his body stilling like a snapshot in time. His gaze locked onto yours, wide-eyed and searching, as if trying to confirm you were real. Slowly, he nodded, his brow creasing in quiet confusion, curiosity flickering behind his eyes.
You stepped inside and let the door click softly shut behind you, the faint sound reverberating in the small, enclosed space. Here, at the back of the train, there were no prying eyes, no curious ears—just the two of you and the fragile weight of the moment.
For a heartbeat, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt electric, thick with unspoken words and barely restrained emotion. James watched you carefully, his gaze tracing your face as if committing every detail to memory.
Your chest tightened, the words caught like a stone in your throat. You’d waited too long, carried this too far. But you couldn’t falter now.
Swallowing the lump of fear, you took a step closer, and then another, until the space between you vanished completely.
You weren’t sure who moved first—if it was him, or you, or maybe both of you at once—but the distance dissolved like it had never been there at all. His hands found your waist as yours slid up to cup his face, and then his lips were on yours. The world outside the compartment disappeared in a rush, the hum of the train fading into nothingness.
It wasn’t frantic or hurried. It was soft, almost tentative at first, like neither of you could quite believe this was real. But then, the kiss deepened, and with it came a flood of emotions—relief, longing, and something you didn’t dare name just yet.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless. James’ cheeks were flushed, and his glasses were slightly askew. His lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile you’d ever seen from him. It was a look you wanted to commit to memory.
But the weight of why you were here—the reason you’d sought him out—pressed against your chest, demanding to be spoken to.
You took a deep breath, looking James in the eye as you began. “Sirius told me about the letters. The one in my luggage, the one on my desk… I didn’t even know they existed. I never read them.”
James blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief. “You… you never read them?” he repeated, his voice breaking slightly.
You shook your head, your chest tightening as you stepped closer to him. “No. I only found out about them because Sirius barged into my compartment and told me everything. He said you hid one in my luggage, and the other was on my desk, buried under a pile of parchment I never cleaned up. James, I had no idea.”
James ran a hand through his hair, his face clouding with frustration and regret. “Merlin,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “All this time, I thought you knew. I thought you read them and just… ignored me.”
“Why would I ignore you?” you asked, your voice trembling. “James, I didn’t know because I didn’t even think to look. And the letter in my bag—I didn’t even realize there was a hidden pocket until Sirius told me.”
James stared at you, his lips parting as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Finally, he managed, “I wrote them because I didn’t know how else to tell you how I felt. I thought if I put it on paper, it’d be easier to say everything I couldn’t say to your face.”
“James, I didn’t read them, but you need to know something,” you said, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I wrote to you too. I wrote you a letter and left it on your bed with Buddy.”
His expression shifted, his brows knitting together in a mix of guilt and realization. “The letter with Buddy,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I tore it up.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, and your heart sank. “You… tore it up?” you asked softly, your voice breaking.
James nodded, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I was angry,” he admitted, his tone thick with regret. “I thought you’d moved on, that you didn’t care anymore. I saw Buddy, and I just… I lost it. And when I saw you’d written me a letter instead of talking to me in person—well, I just… I thought you were giving him back to me because you didn’t need him anymore. I thought you were telling me that you were done with me, that you’d let go. So, I tore it up without even reading it.”
You stared at him, your heart heavy with the weight of the misunderstanding. “James, I wasn’t telling you that I was done. I… I was just too scared to face you. After what happened at the party… when you told me to marry Finn… I didn’t think I could bear hearing you reject me again. I didn’t think I could face you after that.”
James' face softened, his brows furrowing with understanding. “I never meant for you to feel that way. I thought I was doing the right thing, telling you to marry Finn, but it wasn’t because I didn’t care. I was trying to push you away, trying to convince myself that it was better if you were happy with him. I couldn’t bear to see you hurting, but instead, I just made it worse.”
You shook your head, your voice catching. “I didn’t think you wanted me, James. You told me to marry Finn, and you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you how I felt. I thought if I wrote the letter, maybe that was my chance to say what I couldn’t say face-to-face.”
James’ breath hitched, and he stepped toward you. “I was wrong. I should have listened to you, should have seen that I was the one hurting you. I was so confused. I didn’t want to lose you, but I didn’t know how to tell you that I felt the same.”
“James, that letter wasn’t about moving on. It was about you. I told you everything—how I felt, how I couldn’t be with Finn because my heart wasn’t his to have. It was yours. It’s always been yours.”
James’ breath caught in his throat as realization washed over him. “You… you said that?”
You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes. “I told you that I loved you. That I’ve always loved you, no matter how much I tried to deny it. And I gave you Buddy because I didn’t think I deserved to keep him anymore.”
James’ face crumpled, and he took a shaky step toward you. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “For tearing up your letter, for hiding behind mine, for not saying what I needed to say.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “We both made mistakes, James. But I’m here now. And I’m telling you everything because I don’t want to waste another second pretending I don’t care.”
James reached for you, his hands cupping your face as he leaned in. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw and unguarded. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ve been such an idiot for not saying it sooner.”
You let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over you like a tide. “Well, you’re saying it now. That’s all that matters.”
He kissed you then, the world falling away as the weight of years of miscommunication and doubt finally lifted. His lips were warm and familiar, and when he pulled back, both of you were breathless and flushed.
“We’re terrible at this,” James said with a small, rueful laugh, his hands still resting on your cheeks.
“We really are,” you agreed, smiling through your tears. “But we’ve got time to figure it out.”
James grinned, his eyes shining with hope. “Together?”
“Together,” you confirmed, your voice steady and sure.
James kissed you again, slow and tender, as if he was savoring the moment. The warmth of his lips, the familiarity of his touch—it was everything you had wanted, everything you had longed for but been too afraid to claim.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath shaky, both of you flushed from the rush of emotions. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything that had been left unsaid finally settling between you in a peaceful, unspoken understanding.
“I don’t know how we got here,” James said softly, his voice hushed, as though he was still trying to piece everything together in his mind. “We both made so many mistakes, (Y/N). I hurt you, and I never meant to. I’ve been a coward, hiding behind my letters, my words... not telling you the truth when it mattered.”
You shook your head, gently cupping his face in your hands. “James, we both let fear dictate everything. We were both too scared to face the truth. But we're here now, right? That’s all that matters. We don’t have to figure it all out right this moment. We just have to start somewhere.”
James looked into your eyes, his gaze intense, as if he was memorizing every detail, afraid that if he blinked, the moment might slip away. “I love you, (Y/N),” he said again, this time with complete certainty. “I’ve always loved you.”
Tears welled in your eyes, and you laughed softly, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “I love you too, James. I always have. I was just too afraid to believe it.”
James smiled, a real, unguarded smile, the kind that made his entire face light up. “So... do we get to be happy now?” he asked, his voice filled with hope.
You nodded, the warmth of his hands still holding your face. “Yes,” you whispered. “We get to be happy. Together.”
For a long time, neither of you moved, just stood there in the quiet, the weight of everything finally lifting, as if all the confusion and misunderstandings had just melted away.
James let out a soft laugh, breaking the stillness. “I’m not perfect, (Y/N),” he said, his thumb gently brushing the tear on your cheek. “But if you’ll have me, I’m willing to try.”
You smiled through your tears, your heart full to bursting. “I think we both need to try, James. And we will. Together.”
He kissed you one last time, and this time, it wasn’t hurried or filled with desperation. It was a kiss that held all the promises of a new beginning. The kind of kiss that said, we’ve found our way back to each other.
And when you pulled away, you both stood there, smiling through the tangled mess of emotions that had, somehow, become beautiful in their own way.
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Lenses and Lust—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— Nicholas despises his new glasses, he sees them as an inconvenience and doesn’t like how he looks them on. You think the opposite and reassure him that he’s just as irresistible with them on by riding him and sitting on his face and he finds himself seeing things differently. based on this request.
warnings— insecurity, sub!nicholas, praise kink, hair pulling, face sitting/oral, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff, L bombs.
Nicholas sat at the edge of his bed, running a hand through his messy hair as he reluctantly put on his glasses. He muttered under his breath, “I hate these stupid things.”
You, lying comfortably on your side, propped up on one elbow, couldn’t resist staring at him. His jawline was sharp, his shoulders broad, and those glasses? They did something to you. You didn’t understand why he hated them so much when they made him look like a hot professor who belonged in some forbidden fantasy.
“Y’know,” you started, “you look fine as fuck with those on.”
Nicholas shot you a skeptical look, adjusting the glasses on his nose. “Yeah, right. I look like a damn nerd.”
You sat up, crawling across the bed until you were right in front of him. Reaching out, you cupped his face and tilted it so he was looking directly at you. “A nerd? Baby, you look like the sexiest man alive, and I’m not even exaggerating.”
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth forming into a small smirk. “You’re just saying that because you’re my girlfriend.”
“I’m saying it because it’s true,” you said, straddling his lap without hesitation. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging gently just to see that flicker of fire in his eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to focus when you’re walking around looking this good? And now, with the glasses? Nick, it’s not even fair.”
“You’re playing,” he said, though his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you closer.
“Am I?” You leaned in, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “Then why am I literally begging you to fuck me with them on?”
He groaned, his head falling back slightly. “You’re something else,” he murmured, his grip tightening on your hips.
“And you love me,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his jawline.
He tilted his head back up, looking at you through the frames. “You’re seriously turned on by these?”
“Deadass,” you replied, tugging at his t-shirt to get it off him. “You could wear them every day, you should, and I’d still climb you like a tree.”
Nicholas chuckled, the sound deep and raspy as he helped you pull his shirt off. “You’re lucky you’re beautiful.”
“I know,” you retorted, grinding your hips against him. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing, as he watched you with those glasses perched perfectly on his face.
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a teasing tone. “If I keep them on, you better make it worth my while.”
“Oh, I will,” you promised, crashing your lips against his. His glasses pressed against your face, and you didn’t care one bit.
Nicholas didn’t hold back after that. His hands roamed over your body, his lips leaving trails of kisses along your neck, and all the while, his glasses stayed on. You pulled him in for another kiss, his hands resting firmly on your hips as you pressed closer to him. His lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger, and the way his hands gripped you sent shivers down your spine.
You pulled back slightly, your breath shaky. “How about I ride your face, baby?” you whispered.
Nicholas’ face turned a deep shade of red, and he blinked at you from behind his glasses, caught off guard. “W-wait, like t-this?” he stammered, gesturing between you and himself.
“Yes, like this,” you teased, your lips curving into a smile. “You look so hot like this. I need you.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, but his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up as his confidence grew.
You chuckled softly, lifting your arms so he could pull your top off. He helped you out of the rest of your clothes, his hands skimming over your bare skin as he muttered, “Seeing you naked never gets old.” His gaze roamed over you, his glasses slightly slipping down his nose as he admired you.
“Lie back,” you instructed softly.
Nicholas didn’t hesitate, leaning back onto the bed, his head resting against the pillows. His glasses caught the light, and the sight of him looking up at you made your heart race.
You climbed over him, positioning yourself above his face. He reached up, steadying you with his hands on your thighs. His voice was barely a whisper. “You’re so beautiful and so wet,” he said, his breath warm against your skin.
Before you could respond, he leaned forward and pulled you flat onto his mouth, his lips met your pussy, and all coherent thought disappeared. He was thorough, his tongue working with a precision that had you gripping the headboard for support.
“Nick,” you gasped, your voice breaking as he hummed in response, the vibrations sending shocks through your body. His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you in place as he devoured you like you were the only thing that could satisfy his primal hunger.
“You taste so good,” he murmured against you between breaths, his voice deep.
Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently as you whimpered. “You’re so good at this—I can’t.”
“Don’t hold back,” he said, his voice muffled. His words were a command, and the lust in his gaze through the slightly fogged lenses of his glasses made you lose whatever restraint you had left.
Your pussy throbbed and you squirted into his mouth, trembling as he held you steady, continuing lapping at the liquid that flowed from you until you couldn’t take any more. Finally, you lifted yourself up, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.
Nicholas lay there, glasses a bit askew and lips glistening, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. “You’re the most amazing girlfriend anyone could ever dream of,” he said, his voice low and shaky.
He was still catching his breath when you leaned over him, your fingers brushing back the soft strands of his hair. He had slipped out of his shorts, leaving him in just his boxers, and his back was pressed against the headboard. His glasses rested slightly crooked on his nose, and he looked at you with satisfaction.
You straddled his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest, feeling the way it rose and fell under your touch. “You’re so handsome, sweetheart,” you murmured.
His lips quirked into a shy smile, and he let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t know about that with these on.”
You tilted his chin so he was looking directly at you, your thumb brushing across his jaw. “You are, Nick. I need you to see yourself the way I see you. You're perfect,” you whispered.
His hands found your waist, steadying you as you shifted closer. “You’re going to kill me with all these compliments,” he said, his heart fluttering.
You leaned in, your lips grazing his ear as you whispered, “Baby, I need you again. I need to ride you.”
He froze for a moment, his hands tightening on your hips. “You’re serious?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You pulled back to look into his eyes, nodding. “I’ve never been more serious.”
With his consent clear, you slipped his boxers off, and he helped you position yourself over his hard cock. His breath hitched as you sank down onto him slowly, and the way he filled you made your head spin.
“God, you’re so big, you feel so good,” you breathed, your hands resting on his shoulders as you began to ride him.
Nicholas gripped your waist, his gaze locked on you as if you were the only thing in the world. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I love you.”
You leaned forward, rolling your hips and cupping his face as you whispered, “I love you too, Nick.”
His lips captured yours in a heated kiss, the kind that said more than words ever could. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping, your moans, and the quiet praises you exchanged. You could practically feel him in your guts as you switched from grinding to bouncing, your tits moving in his face as you did. Each time you lifted yourself, you felt him drag across your walls, every vein memorizing your tight pussy.
“You’re doing so well,” he moaned, his head tipping back against the headboard. “You feel incredible.”
“And you,” you gasped, your fingers threading through his hair and tugging again as you bounced on his dick, “are everything I’ve ever wanted.”
The tension built between you, the pace quickening as your bodies moved in sync. You rode him like you were proving a point. And you were. You were showing him just how attractive he was—just how attracted you were to him, glasses or not—and even more so with them on. You stared into his eyes through the frames, your jaw agape and his face contorted in pleasure as your pussy squeezed around him tightly.
His eyes darted from your face, to your tits, to your pussy moving up and down gripping his cock.
“Oh fuck, you’re riding me so good. Fucking gripping me like you don’t want to let go. I need to cum. Please let me cum,” he whined.
“You’ve been such a good boy, so handsome, everything I could ever ask for. Cum with me sweetheart, cum inside me,” you murmured.
Pressing your forehead against his, you stared at his face as you felt his cock throb inside you. Together, moaning each other’s names, you came, your bodies convulsing. Your fingers dug into his back, feeling his warm cum fill you up and you bit back a loud moan as you creamed all over his cock.
“Nick,” you whispered, your forehead resting against his as you both caught your breath.
“You’re amazing baby, utterly amazing,” he whispered back, his voice shaky.
When the high subsided, he gently pulled you into his arms, lying back against the pillows as he held you close. His fingers traced idle patterns along your spine. “I just want to hold you now,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nuzzled closer, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I’ll never complain about that,” you murmured, wrapping your arm around him.
After a moment, he broke the silence. “Thank you,” he said, his voice hesitant.
“For what?”
“For all of this. For being patient with me. I was a little insecure about the glasses and everything. I thought they’d make me look—”
“Stop,” you interrupted, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “You have no idea how hot you look in them. I don’t ever want to hear you putting yourself down again, okay? You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
His lips curved into a small smile, and he kissed your forehead. “You really mean that?”
“Every word,” you said firmly, brushing your fingers through his hair again. “I love you Nicholas. Don’t forget that.”
He chuckled, pulling you tighter against him. “How could I ever forget? I love you more.”
“Glasses Nicholas is undefeated.”
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, nothing else mattered.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
Tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @nicholaschavezslut69
#fratboy!nicholas chavez x reader#fratboy!nicholas chavez#fratboy!nicholas#nicholas chavez x black reader#black reader#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez fanfiction#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez x reader smut#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas chavez fic#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas chavez icons#nicholas chavez au#nicholas chavez fluff#nicholas chavez x fem!reader#nicholas chavez x you#nicholas chavez x y/n#nicholas chavez x female reader#nicholas chavez x poc!reader#nick chavez#grotesquerie smut#grotesquerie#father charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew smut#father charlie mayhew smut#charlie mayhew x reader
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finished most of my work, now I’m not sure what to do 😭
#the way I literally am begging for something to do#i might have some reading so maybe I’ll do that?#idk 😭😭😭#SIGH#coco stfu!
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Reading MW takes on Twitter is like reading a summary of the Bible from someone who only watched like a Family Guy family special about it
#did we play the same game? did we see the same themes yes themes as in plural#like my god get off ur fucking high horses or stop trying to make a unique theory just to be unique#like if it clearly doesn’t fit the plot it causes unnecessary arguments#people are weird and weirdly obsessed with making like the issues in the game solely interpersonal when it is clearly very institutional#with everything we learn about PE and how hard they make it to seek justice or safety#and ur treating it like the average person is a horrible troll monster#when the game really tries to show you how humans people become bad or can be enabled to do their worse through many different ways#but go ahead make it seem like all the men are like willingly Jimmy’s goon squad of predator enablers pls pls pls just look from another#view point I’m begging yall sometimes it’s good to leave those echo chambers#like taking parts of conversations out of context to make characters look better or worse is literally a tactic Jimmy uses ur using Jimmy#tactics to prove ur point dummy head#side tag tangent I am also very annoyed with how many people really do think Curly could’ve just had changes made to the ship during the#travel like a big point is that they barely had resources to just survive regularly#other than random scrap and wires for serious repairs they def didn’t just have locks laying about nor are the doors outside of medical and#the cockpit are suited to install locks like the whole point of the illusion of choice#is that at the end the options presented were never gonna be viable whether it was because of the time needed to execute them the standards#they were under or their lack of resources all mainly caused by PE no matter how much Curly#wanted to do something there’s very little he could’ve#even the ideas posed we have would have only happened after the assault and done little to actually stop the crash when you think about it#and it’s sad and sounds weird but that’s the case#mouthwashing
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sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible
#trying to keep it together so bad because i already know the problems and solutions and whatnot but i cannot do anything#i desperately just need to do something. accomplish any task. actually several would be nice. but i cannot stand just letting life go by#while i watch other people have the things i want. or even metaphorically living my dream like. that should be me why am i settling for thi#i hate even talking about this because i feel so stupid when i know it's not even a real tangible problem and that i actually DO have real#problems to tackle and the ability to do so but i'm choosing to be upset over the stupidest things i could possibly be sad about#and i can't even be sad about it in a normal way i'm cycling through like several different reactions to smth that isn't even real#or if it is real i literally do not have tanglible evidence for it one way or another like i'm driving myself insane for no reason#i can't even get catharsis because all i'm doing is digging a deeper hole for something i never should've gone back into in the first place#because i KNOW how i am i KNOW how i react to things and i still chose to do it lmao.#and i continue to choose to go through this shit instead of actively trying to change my life because... i'm lazy? and stupid? idk#negative self-talk isn't gonna get me to do anything either so let's just say i'm feeling particularly unmotivated like usual#i hated being a teenager but i really do miss when all my problems just amounted to 'someone was mean to me on tumblr today :(' or i failed#a test in chemistry or something. like i yearn for that simplicity becasue at this point all i'm doing is ruining my own life LMAO#i'm too scared to live i'm too scared to die so i just sit here and fantasize that life could be amazing if i wait#and i'll magically get everything i've ever wanted if i just wait long enough. and i know it isn't true and i still wait for it to happen.#because honestly like. i think deep down i am just convinced i will fail at anything i do when that shouldn't be what scares me.#what scares me should be never even allowing myself to fail because i never tried to do anything at all with myself or my life#like. wake the fuck up. get off your ass and put in the effort. learn some skills. gain independence and stability and discipline and do it#just live please i'm begging you just live so i can be happy don't i deserve to be happy... why am i not letting myself be happy#i'm literally keeping myself trapped in this negative feedback loop ON PURPOSE because teehee shiny toy#and it doesn't matter if the love is real it doesn't matter how i feel like i'm just using it as a distraction i can't say it's motivation#because it's barely motivated me at all. i have to start being realistic. 25 & just realizing you actually have to participate in your life#anyways. i've cried i've agonized i've pictured killing myself in 30 different ways. i think the only way i'm gonna feel better is#to just actually try this time without giving up. wish me luck
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University ever pushes you so low you have to go buy a couple of beers? /srs/neg
I'm gonna vent in the tags for a moment humor me for once /gen
#No but I'm serious this place is a nightmare /neg#Venting in the tags#humor me for a second. you go to this uni and they promise you a place that will teach you how to become an artist#on both like. morality and skill level. they feed you with bullshit for MONTHS. “oh mistakes are fine! they make you grow!”#or “oh this is a community we work all together there are no discriminations this is a safe place to learn and improve”#and we like. work on this projects - THAT WE ARE NOT PAID TO WORK FOR SO *WE* GET TO PAY FOR ALL THE MATERIALS AND SHIT FOR THEM.#to like “help the community” or whatevrr because “artists are born to inspire others and bring joy” and blah blah blah. BUT. LIKE. THE THING#THE THING IS. NONE OF THESE PROJECTS WILL END UP ON OUR CURRICULUMS. WHAT WE WORK 6-7 YEARS FOR ARE NOT SEEN AS REAL EXPERIENCES.#AS IF WE'VE DONE LITERALLY NOTHING FOR 6-7 YEARS. AND LIKE. THE PROFESSORS ARE SO RACIST AND DISCRIMINATORY AS WELL.#If they don't like you they WON'T EVEN GIVE YOU THE EXAM. BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY TO DEMONSTRATE IF YOU WORKED OR NOT. IT'S UP TO THEM.#THEY DECIDE EVERYTHING FOR EVERYONE AS IF WE ARE SOME SORT OF FUCKING COMMUNIST KINDA BULLSHIT WORKERS.#Someone fucks up? *WE* FUCK UP AND EVERYONE PAYS. Someone succeeds? *WE* SUCCEED AND EVERYONE GETS THE CREDITS.#THIS IS ALSO WHY NONE OF THE WORKS WE DO END UP IN OUT CURRICULUM BECAUSE ITS MADE SO THAT *THE UNIVERSITY COURSE* DID IT AND NOT *US*.#IT'S FUCKING BULLSHIT AND I CAN'T EVEN GET OUT OF THERE BECAUSE IF I DO MY PARENTS WILL KICK ME OUT CUZ THEY DON'T WANT ME TO BE AN ARTIST#So I'm trying to STUDY for the exams and the “professors” are getting mad at me that I'm not staying 10 HOURS IN THAT MOTHERFUCKING ART LAB.#WORKING AT THEIR NONSENSE PROJECTS THAT WILL NOT END UP IN MY CURRICULUM.#“Oh if you're not willing to put all your efforts for the course this is not the place for you” BITCH I *AM* PUTTING ALL MY EFFORTS!#THIS EXAM IS *LITERALLY* PART OF THE COURSE!! WHAT KIND OF FUCKING BULLSHIT ARGUMENT IS THAT!!!!!#Istg I'm gonna cry I want to kms /NOT SERIOUS#I'm gonna cook dinner. chug my lemon beer. and try to study like a normal person and beg this shit will end soon#Don't worry I'm not going to become an alcoholic I just need something. anything and I'm ABSOLUTELY not gonna start smoking I hate it /srs#tw alchohol mention#alcohol mention#tw smoking mention#smoking mention#vent#tw vent#// mike speaks
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Chat what the Fuck
#i swear to God. every time I'm like no I'm putting my foot down I'm moving on. or i think maybe i was wrong and he's not my person#something pops up to remind me of him#but literally 4 minutes ago. Four. Minutes. He was driving behind me on his way to work i watched him pull into work are you JOKING ME#WHAT THE FREAK#lord release me from these shackles (loving and missing him but not being able to be with him in any capacity)#whatever#he definitely knew it was me lmao. my car is fuckass ugly (she went through a lot)#what does it all Mean though#the signs. the symbols..#like what am i supposed to get from this genuinely#i prayed last night to see the results of placing my faith in God#i did what i felt i was lead to do#and my gut said that this dumbass man will be back in my life by Christmas#i personally feel as though time is running out for that to happen (bc it is??)#but then i just saw him for the second time since July#which. you have to understand is crazy#we live in the same town. my friend lives in his neighborhood. my other friend lives right next to his place of work (hence why i passed it)#this is so strange#documenting all of it in case I'm right though#that way no one can call me crazy#and if I'm wrong then I'm on my hands and knees begging to be put in a fucking psych ward#🥀#wtf man#i didn't cry this time though!!!!!!!!!!#progress!!!!!#ironic that i was very much thinking about him but tbh when am i not
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it boggles my mind that I still see reminder type posts about not consuming Harry Potter content, not because I expected everyone to agree to stop engaging but because I did sort of expect that the people engaging with hp in 2024 would at least have the decency to not grovel on the internet for random transgender bloggers to validate that they're still a good person and not transphobic for liking hp still. like these posts are not redundant they are FILLED with defensive responses and excuses for why actually its fine and its like not only can you not stop engaging with Harry Potter but you also want to be able to post about doing so non-stop and you never ever want to even see a transgender person point out that JKR is actively funding and directly influencing transphobic organizations and legislation. to the point that when someone does you are incapable of simply scrolling by because you need so badly to be reassured that this internet rando doesn't think you specifically are a bad person for doing the thing they said is bad. unreal main character syndrome. if you have committed to being an hp fan fine i am not a cop or your mom and I cannot make you do anything at all. but I am not, nor is any other trans person, going to give you 'permission' or absolve you of your own guilt for doing so. that is your problem to reconcile yourself and is not the job of random trans people. like jesus christ enough already
#good idea generator#this isnt exclusive to hp fans this is a pretty pervasive issue on this site#where someone will be like well i think x action is bad and harmful#and 10000 people will come out of the woodwork to be like well i do x action am i bad 🥺 am i a bad person 🥺#oh i have to do x action because of [extenuating circumstance obviously not intended by the op] you think im bad you think i should die???#like. ok you know when any big social movement is getting traction#you suddenly see 100 posts about how actually its okay to not do anything or say anything tumblr is escapism!!!#even though for the VAST majority of users. they are not expected to say or do anything by the ppl who follow them on tumblr#so really the purpose those posts serve is to justify legitmize and spread around the idea that you can do literally nothing ever#and still be a 'good person'. it is to assuage your own guilt#and it serves ZERO purpose other than to detract from ongoing conversations#bc if you were really serious about supporting something but being unable to help in xyz ways for various reasons#you would shut the fuck up!!!! and not post about not being able to do anything!!!#the same way that you shouldnt say that you cant donate to a fundraiser when you share it even if its true and reasonable#bc it makes other people who read that less likely to donate themselves even if they DO have the means#these tags are getting incoherent but hopefully my point gets across idk#i just feel in general we should stop begging internet strangers for absolution. youre not going to get it from there.
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oughhhh new boss hasn't even fully taken over yet but she seems so incompetent 😬
#also has no respect for anyone else including some of the lovely old ladies who have worked here 30 years#disrespected my mentor :(#also wants me an my other co teacher to come back to work some day(s) in the next few weeks to work unpaid overtime#just to set up the classroom the way she wants....#which is traditionally the lead teacher's job to do if she chooses#i think she's genuinely so delulu that she thinks it's gonna be fun girls night bonding time or something#like girl i am not coming back after hours to work for free lol#anyway every change she has tried was catastrophic today but she wouldnt even admit that most of them don't work 🤡#then she left at 3pm for me to deal w closing while the kids lost thier marbles bc she fucked up naptime then didn't let us keep them down#so they literally got a half nap today but she didnt care bc she was off in an hour anyway#ugh#she's gonna be insufferable i know it 😖#my co teacher was begging our current supervisor who hasnt fully left yet for advice on saying no to the unpaid overtime#im so sad she's leaving fr 😭#she doesn't even want to go but management is evil and dumb and moved her to pre k bc another teacher lied abt her :(#i got her a nice care package tho#i was going to wait for the new boss to be off shift and go home before giving it to my current one at end of day tomorrow (her last day)#bc i didnt want her to feel unwelcome or weird or anything#but i don't care now actually 😂#i want her to know we love sarah and are going to miss her#and she has to live up to that#bc currently she's uh...not lol
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Like a whole other thing is when I have put Mani/Moe in situations where suicide as a topic is part of the punchline, I am so cautious about it, and there's always a greater intention behind it. Biggest thing is the characterization -- this is a part of its history. Moe's experiences inform a lot of its feelings, choices, even core personality. It's also a distinct characterization of Mani. A reflection of the past. Mani is more prone to becoming volatile and destructive. I have so much lore in my head I can never elaborate on LMFAOOO (SCRAMBLED. EGG). But that is the point/idea behind it, and I am always So Careful. I don't do anything without intent.
#suicide ment#moe tag#mani tag#something something moe is a healer. bc ofc it fucking is LMFAOO#i feel like. i have so many thoughts. but i cannot fucking articulate them LMFAOO#idk moe is like a rescue animal.#LIKE. I FEEL LIKE A CORE PART OF MOE AS A CHARACTER. is the fact that it's doing better now#but it never fully 'recovered'.#it still has mental health struggles/conditions. but it's well-managed and at this point moe is more practically minded about it.#like maybe an even bigger part of moe's entire fucking character. is that you can't 'fix' it.#one bc some things were never meant to be fixed. an impossible task that led to nothing but trauma.#examples would be its gender identity/queerness in general and being autistic. those are things you can't 'fix'#and things that. never should be 'fixed'. bc they are literally not problems.#two. idk how to word it. but some things can't really be fixed but in a different way than the prev example.#but you manage the symptoms of it. change harmful behavior. practice damage reduction as much as you can.#already i am so tired and i'm gonna thrup trying to explain the difference. but please i am begging you. there is one. just trust me.#like having self-harming tendencies deeply ingrained in you is wholly different. i wish i had the fucking words to explain it.#but that IS. a core aspect of moe. capturing how these things have impacted it#and also. having gotten to a point where it stays silly.
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sometimes i see my follower count and it kind of baffles me. b/c like. i'll be str8 up, i have 11.3k followers on main. and yknow what? it feels almost exactly the same as having 3k on twitter in terms of engagement (which is to say i dont get a ton of engagement on any of my stuff unless i post something that really hits a certain audience, like danny phantom), and i think the reason for that is that a REALLY LARGE PORTION of my tumblr followers are not active anymore or are just bots
not complaining abt the active followers i do have btw! i love each and every one of u and i appreciate ur support so much. but its also weird to think about how 11k followers on tumblr doesnt feel as impressive as 11k followers on twitter, or in my case it doesnt feel as impressive as just 3k followers on twitter lol
#i hope i dont sound ungrateful or anything. just something ive observed#remember when 11k followers on tumblr was like holy shit level of popular#i am not popular on tumblr LMAO#unless i am so detached from how people see me on here and i actually Am popular idk. i dont feel it at all#LIKE. idk. this isnt a very good metric for popularity but i never get any hatemail. like. ever. when i only had like idk 5k followers i#got a lot more negative messages than i do at 11k#not that i WANT hatemail. but it just feels like something i associate with popularity yknow#but ya. i dont get a ton of engagement on my art on either platform as well as messages unless i literally beg for them#crazy how platforms differ in such a way
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working on getting comfortable with being ugly in public right now to innoculate myself against one day being an 84 year old woman wearing a cardigan in july because I think my forearms are yucky(?)
#a callout.#like man not that anyone should ever feel like 'being ugly' is a reason not to allow themselves to do things or be seen#(like. I'm fat I'm Aware of this issue anyway lol)#but it especially fucking bums me out when old or even just older people think like this#because '.... you're 84..... of course you're wrinkly.....' feels mean? I guess? if it's something they're self conscious about#but also like. you're 84 of course you're wrinkly. literally no one noticed that your arms are 'woobly' and no one ever would have#kind of reminds me of my other gramma who would look longingly at cheesecakes at the store and then pass because they're fattening#ma'am there is no way to say this that wouldn't feel like... an existentially upsetting thing to hear#but you are 72...... for why are you watching your figure....... enjoy something delicious while you literally can I am fucking begging you#take your sweater off you're in your son's back yard and no one expects you to not look old!! make peace with that and live freely!!!#KICKING DOWN THE DOOR SHAME IS A FUCKING PRISON!!!!!#about me
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the way we handle medical leave in the states even for people with good benefits is cruel
#the number of hoops i have to jump through. the way that my requirements for one surgery are apparently different from another surgery#even though there's nothing in the paperwork to indicate any need for that and the surgeries don't differ all that much#the way that they lost my initial letter and now i'm up against my deadline next week and they haven't even told me what day next week#so i'm worried that it's literally tomorrow#the way i am not receiving ANY pay for an entire month because of all the delays so i'm having to live off my savings#the way that every single person i've talked to has said something different about what is and isn't required#the way that for a lot of this i had to be navigating it while high on painkillers immediately post-surgery#the way that the group my employer contracts through has two different emails and names and flips between them constantly#the way that my healthcare provider does it differently than every other healthcare provider so i need special forms from them#instead of the leave group but then the leave group doesn't seem to accept the forms that they send#the way that the doctors office has seemed incredibly confused by my requests#the way that the ROI office told me they'd send over a completed form and never did#the way i literally don't even know who to call next to try and sort this out or if it's possible TO sort out#like i guess i'll call the leave group tomorrow and cry and beg for an extension. i guess i'll grovel bc it's the difference#of getting a few thousand dollars or not and i can't just be like oh well guess i won't get my short term disability pay#especially bc none of the hospitals have billed me yet and i'm getting scared bc i don't know what my ER bill is going to look like#bc they did xrays and a CT scan and they gave me a splint and a sling and a lot of drugs#so i do need the money. just sitting here like. idek what to do lmfao.#not tagging this bc i'm on desktop and i can't do the accent mark easily and idk where my phone is rn sorry
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i need so much time to process the information i have encountered today. i'm gonna be away for a bit.
#sunrise thoughts#i do not have the stability for this.#call me a coward and an imbecile who fell to parasocial relationship stuff i get it i get it#also people keep saying to not speculate but they're doing so so much speculating and i'm so confused and lost#and i'm aware i should watch shubble's stream and such#but i am not stable at all. i am not capable of watching something that will deeply fuck me up.#i'm not ready and i don't think i will be ready for a LONG LONG while.#if you follow this blog or/and you're my friend you know why.#i am so so sorry for shubble and what she went through is horrible and i'm so fucking sad for her#but i cannot process some of the information that's happening right now.#i am aware shubble has decided to not share names for her safety which i very very much understand.#and i know when i say this it's extremely selfish and so fucking bad but i am begging i am genuinely begging#that everyone who seems to have 'guessed' who the abuser is to be wrong#i know it's extremely bad to say#but i am entering denial mode of the grief processus right now.#and like i said. i will need SO much time to process things.#i've had such a massive special interest on this man's content since 2021. it is my strongest special interest ever.#a literal pillar of my life is crumbling down in a completely unexpected way#so please don't yell at me for not being able to watch this stream and such#i need time#plus the topic is very very sensitive to me for personal reasons too#anyway. that's all i will say. and i said way too much already.
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diversity loss! those ppl correctly gendering u assumed you're straight..
#well 'correctly gendering' they genuinely just saw me as Some Guy i think so automatically referred to me as he#anyway there are a group of usually four to five ppl at the train station nearest to me who stop u and talk to you about sj stuff and/or as#you to donate. so stuff like immigrant rights lgbtq+ rights the environment et cetera & they were eyeing me when i was approaching (to#potentially be stopped & talked to etc. i get stopped like. 80% of the time around there) but then turned back towards each other and said#something along the lines of 'oh this is so scary this is so hard he's so scary' and then didn't stop me to talk and literally as i walked#away (i was JUST past them some ppl rlly do not wait for someone to be out of earsight to tall abt them) one of them said 'his face looked#good (as in approachable & a potential Person To Converse With) but the rest of him....straight man. look at that blouse.'#the previous sentence loosely quoted but it was smth like that...........WTF DO U MEAN STRAIGHT MAN??? TAKE THAT BACK PLEASE I BEG 😭🙏#<<<<<< also they meant cis straight man specifically i'm pretty sure...which is the absolute worst part of that whole assumption.#ALSO what's wrong with my blouse.........#thanks 4 the gender euphoria though. much obliged 👍#double also i don't think i'm using this meme setup thingie in the way it is supposed to be used but it makes sense either way. to me.#TRIPLE ALSO we're just assuming that if someone is a straight man they immediately don't gaf about social justice stuff?? okay.....#i mean i get it but also big generalization. but also i get it. but also big generalization. anyway. in other news i found out my grandma#used to write my grandpa actual poems. like ACTUAL actual poems of the professional sort that she made up and wrote down herself to give#to him <3333#& more news though this one is not very surprising and in fact very predictable I AM SO SLEEPY TIRED. ZONK TOWN I'M COMING DON'T U WORRY❗❗#just need to read the newspaper (the mutuals' posts of 2day) and then i am going to bed IMMEDIATELY u best believe.
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It’s difficult to relinquish responsibility for things that really shouldn’t be your responsibility when the people around you refuse to pick up any slack. It sucks to have situations where you know it shouldn’t fall to you to do x task, but it needs to be done, and the people who SHOULD do it will not do it, and someone/something you care about will suffer as a result.
#begging my family to handle their own shit#like why do my parents and siblings expect me to coordinate a dinner that I won’t even be attending?#they literally go ‘hey Milo what is for dinner’ when I already told them I am busy#my mom asks me what time my brother is coming over. fucking ask him???? you have a phone and you are an adult#WHY WOULD I KNOW THESE THINGS??#apparently I am not only my brother’s keeper but my mother’s and father’s and sister’s#I agree with the graph thing and the necessity of Task Triage#I guess my point is just that people don’t fall into that kind of dynamic by chance or choice#it’s usually something in our environment or our community that forces us to act this way and then feel overwhelmed
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