#whenever i feel any feelings i take it out on Harry womp womp

[beans-core]

At the age of six, Harry first finds himself thinking of God. It’s hard not to when the Dursleys go to worship Him in church around a few different holidays.

Every time they do, Harry stays locked in his cupboard until they get back to the house. He wonders, is God real? What does he teach? What has he done to make so many people love him?

Hopefully God can help Harry be less freakish. It’s only happened once or twice— whatever it actually was, he wasn’t sure, but the Dursleys hated it— and those few times got him the most harsh punishments he’d ever received. It’s easy to say that he has some motivation for what he does next.

He tries to nick Aunt Petunia’s Bible so he can read it that evening and discover more, but she catches him. She slaps him so hard it feels bruised, her manicured nails leaving a few scratches in its wake. She screams and screams at Harry for daring to touch The Holy Book until his ears are ringing and he’s left with a pounding headache alongside the scrapes on his cheek. Despite knowing how to hold back his tears, they brim his eyes anyway because he knows he deserves it this time.

That night, curled up on his tiny cot, Harry thinks maybe he doesn’t want to know much more if people like the Dursleys love God. If God loves the Dursleys back.

At age 8, he’s pretty sure that God is not real. Harry’s heard more about his ideals now, and what he is supposed to stand for.

Why would he stand for this? Harry thinks it as he is locked in his cupboard once again. It is the third day in a row without food. If God was real, would he really let this happen? Harry had done something freakish again, though now he could barely remember what it was. He didn’t even know he’d done anything until it was too late to beg for forgiveness— not that ‘sorry’ was ever enough for his Uncle and Aunt.

Harry didn’t do bad things on purpose. Surely he was still good enough to help— and wasn’t God supposed to help? Save those that need saving?

“I need saving,” Harry whispers to himself in the darkness, clutching his stomach through hunger pangs. He wants to yell it, shout so loud that the Dursleys and the neighbors and the whole entire world hears him, so loud that God hears and he comes to rescue Harry. But supposedly he doesn’t need to scream for God to hear him. God should be able to hear his pleas even as the hoarse whisper it comes out as.

And that settles it, really. God can’t be real, because if he was, surely Harry wouldn’t still be here.

(It angers him, but he can’t stop himself from praying. He copies what he sees Petunia do and does the same, prays desperately for the savior he’s been hearing of his whole life.)

(When Harry is finally, finally saved, prayers answered, he quietly wonders if God is magic too.)

(As he is introduced to this magical world where Harry Potter is the savior to those who believe in his supposed power, Harry feels like this is a chance to provide these people with the savior he was never given. Live up to the expectations, and be the person to save those who need saving.)

When Harry is 11 years old, and it is his first week back at No. 4 Privet Drive from Hogwarts, he is certain he knows the truth now.

God is real, there is little doubt in his mind. All the grace he’s been granted this past year had to have been divine intervention— Harry’s been at Death’s Door more times this year than he’d been his entire life. There was just no fathomable way even magic could render that type of skin-of-the-teeth dumb luck.

But then Harry remembers the feeling of flesh burning and bubbling beneath his hands, the wails of Quirrel-Voldemort writhing under Harry’s grasp. Remembers that unremarkable day in Spring, all those years ago, when Harry had asked Aunt Petunia if he could come to church with them: “You are devil spawn. If God ever looks your way, it would be to smite you.”

God is real, he has learned. God is real, has looked Harry’s way, and decided to curse him.

He’s cursed Harry with everything he’d ever wished for, but with awful twists around every corner. One step forward, two steps back.

Harry finally got his escape, but it wasn’t as much of an escape than it was a swap. He feels like his cupboard just got traded for a cage, and that all these people who are supposed to be like him have shut him in— are poking at him and rattling the bars.

He thinks back to what Petunia called him; devil child. He thinks back to what she said. Now, Harry would probably choose be smited. At least it’d be quicker.

[xoxo-teddybear]

Besties - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader ft. Kirishima

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, Good Times, BESTIE VIBES ONLY

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Summary: Being Bakugou’s girlfriend, you had to get used to his jealousy. Even though you got used to it, you still chose to not deal with it and so you became close friends with the one guy he could trust. Eijirou Kirishima. Here’s how it worked out.

A/N: For the sake of the fic, Jirou and Kaminari are dating

So we all know how Bakugou and Kirishima’s friendship works but I headcanon Y/N (or this story’s version of Y/N) and Kirishima to have a friendship very VERY similar to André Harris and Tori Vega from the show, Victorious. Bakugou liked the fact that his best friend and girlfriend got along so well ESPECIALLY since he wouldn’t have to worry about other guys that Y/N would become friends with. He could trust Eijirou to stay just friends with Y/N and the friendship became ridiculously hilarious.

—

[Y /N] *Ripped Kirishima’s Red Riot poster* Oh Shit! *Runs to common rooms and hides in the crowd, casually talking to other friends*

[Kirishima] *Walks in* You!

[Y/N] *high pitch scream* Katsuki!

[Kirishima and Y/N] *Arguing*

[Katsuki] *Runs in* Woah, woah, woah! What the fuck is happening?!

[Kirishima] Can I talk to Y/N for a sec bro?!

[Y/N] I don’t have to talk to you about anything!

[Kirishima] Oh I think you do! *Picks Y/N up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes*

[Y/N] Let me go! *swinging arms and legs around*

[Kirishima] Don’t make a scene, Don’t make a scene

[Y/N] Suki! Help me!

[Katsuki] *Laughing his ass off*

—

[Y/N] *Walking up towards Katsuki and Kirishima moving shoulders and smiling* Heyyyy~

[Katsuki] *Pulling in Y/N with one arm and pecking her temple* Hey babe

[Kirishima] What’s the big news?

[Y/N] How’d you know I had big news?

[Kirishima] ‘Cuz whenever you got big news, this is how you approach someone. *Backs up a little and re-enacts Y/N’s walk* “Heyyyy~”

[Y/N] I don’t do that when I have big news

[Katsuki] Do you have big news?

[Y/N] .....yes

[Katsuki and Kirishima] *Laughs*

[Sero] Yo Bakugou! We got extra training with Aizawa! Let’s go!

[Katsuki] Okay! Later Shitty Hair, See ya babe *pecks your lips and runs off*

[Kirishima] So what’s the big news?

[Y/N] *explains*

[Kirishima] Oh my chiz!

[Y/N] I know right! Ouu let’s go tell those guys over there! *points towards group of kids and begins to walk*

[Kirishima] Wait wait wait *pulls Y/N back* We gotta do this the right way *smiles*

[Y/N] *Smiles and Nods head*

[Kirishima and Y/N] *Walks up to group moving shoulders and smiling* Heyyyy~

—

[Kirishima and Y/N] *Chilling at the Kitchen Island*

[Kirishima] *frustrated with something*

[Y/N] Hey...Hey look at me

[Kirishima] Noooooo

[Y/N] Look at me

[Kirishima] *Sighs* What is it cuz I’m not in the greatest moo- *looks up at Y/N*

[Y/N] *Shoots Kirishima with Nerf Gun as he’s talking and hits him right in the middle of his forehead for the 6th time in a row* WooHooo!! Oh yeaaahhh six fa sixxxxx *does a little dance in her chair*

[Katsuki] *laying on the common room couch* BABBYYYYYYYYY

[Y/N] *Walks to Bakugou* You finally awake babe? What do you need?

[Katsuki] Can you get me some water? *baby pouts at her*

[Y/N] Heh, sure. *gets water and gives it to Katsuki*

[Katsuki] *Drinks water and goes to sleep again*

[Y/N] *Walks back to seat infront of Kirishima and gets hit with Nerf Bullet*

[Kirishima] WOMP! *puts two fist in the air in victory and then does a little dance*

[Y/N] *Softly laughs*

[Kirishima] Like that?

[Y/N] *Laughs and claps hands softly* Moreee

[Kirishima] *Laughs and stops dancing*

—

[Kirishima] *Busts into Common Rooms during Y/N and Bakugou’s movie night* GUYS I NEED HELP!

[Katsuki] *Pauses movie* Aren’t you supposed to be at Kiyoko’s Birthday Party?

[Kirishima] Yes! I’m supposed to be at her birthday party! I’m supposed to be her date for that party! And I’m supposed to like her! But I don’t like that spoiled girl at all! Not even a little *picks up pillow and hits the couch with it at every upcoming word* And I *hit* don’t know what *hit* to do! *hit*

[Y/N] *Offers out bowl* .....Want some Mashed Potatoes?

[Kirishima] No I don’t want any- .....Gimme da bowl *takes bowl and walks to other side*

[Y/N] Okay, why are you with this girl if you don’t even like her?!

[Kirishima] Because of her daddy *eats*

[Katsuki] Who’s her daddy?

[Kirishima] *Speaks with stuffed mouth* Hawks

[Katsuki and Y/N] What?!?!! Hawks?!?

[Kirishima] Mhm!

[Y/N] Oh my god, he’s the number 2 hero!

[Kirishima] I know that! You don’t think I know that? If that man likes me and thinks I’m good enough he could hook me up with a spot in his agency as an intern. Why else do you think I’m dating his grumped up, crazy faced daughter?!

[Y/N] *stares in shock* that is terrible!

[Kirishima] I know! That’s why I’m upset! *takes spoonful bite of mashed potatoes* ‘Cuz I know, what I’m doing is wrong! 😭 .....are these potatoes hand mashed?

[Y/N] Yeah, why?

[Kirishima] They’re lumpy

[Y/N] *stares in offense*

[Kirishima] If you gon hand mash em, you gotta get up in there! Get out them lumps! *sadly uses fork to mash up potatoes even more*

—

[Kirishima] *Banging on Y/N’s dorm room door at 4 in the morning*

[Y/N] *Tiredly getting out of Bakugou’s arms and opening the door* Kiri?

[Kirishima] Did you get my texts?!

[Y/N] Yes, why do you think I’m standing here at 4 in the morning?

[Kirishima] I’m tripping out Y/N! I’m tripping out!!😭

[Y/N] *sighs* Alright, just come in

[Katsuki] *Wakes up* Ugh shitty hair, whats your deal?

[Kirishima] *frantically walks through the door* Go make coco!

[Y/N] I’m not making coco! *shuts door*

[Kirishima] ARGHHH-OWWW *rubs his temples as he flops onto Y/N’s bed at Katsuki’s feet*

[Katsuki] Geez man *tiredly rubs face*

[Y/N] What is wrong with you?

[Kirishima] *hesitates* I-...I think I’m in love with Jirou

[Katsuki and Y/N] *Eyes go wide and jaws drop*

[Y/N] *slowly shaking head up and down*...I’ll go make the coco... *stares as Kirishima in shock as she backs up to the door slowly*

[Kirishima] *Mouthing “I don’t know” with distressed look and shrugged shoulders*

[Y/N] *slowly but quickly leaves dorm room*

*Timeskip - Bakugou, Y/N, and Kirishima are all sitting on Y/N’s bed with their backs against the wall holding cups of coco*

[Y/N] You think you’re in love?....With Jirou?

[Kirishima] ....I think so..

[Katsuki] Okay, what happened tonight?

[Kirishima] I don’t know..we were just in gym gamma, working together, all night, and then we took a break and she played music and started singing and I sang with her. Then she showed me a song she’s been working on and I offered to help and then she started singing again and she just looked so...pretty and sweet

[Y/N] Okay but dude, you can’t love Jirou!

[Kirishima] You think I don’t know that?! Kaminari is one of my best friends and I would never try and move in on a friend’s girl. Uh-Uh, I don’t play that way.

[Katsuki] Good! So just..forget about this-

[Kirishima] I CANT! ARGH-OW *distressfully rubs temples*

[Y/N] Well why can’t you?

[Kirishima] Alright, you see. Ever since I was little I could never hold my emotions in. I could never keep my feelings inside, even if I want to, I just can’t. I always had to be honest with myself and let it out. Or else I get wonky in the head! *Rubs temples*

[Y/N] Okay-

[Kirishima] I- *broken sobs*

[Y/N] Okay-

[Kirishima] Argh- *broken sobs*

[Y/N] *Rubbing Kiri’s shoulder* Shhh-

[Kirishima] I don’t even- *broken sobs and shaking head*

[Y/N] Shhh. Listen. I don’t think you’re in love with Jirou.

[Kirishima] You don’t?

[Y/N] No. You guys were just there..together..alone, late. And you were tired.

[Kirishima] Yeah..tired, we were tired. That’s true.

[Y/N] And you guys were listening to music and singing songs..and so you felt emotional.

[Kirishima] Yeah! I did!

[Y/N] But by tomorrow, you’ll be fine again!

[Kirishima] Yeah! I bet I will!

[Katsuki, Y/N, and Kirishima] *Slowly raises coco cups to their mouths to take a sip simultaneously*

[Kirishima] This coco is good!

[Y/N] *Nodding her head* It’s from Belgium.

[Kirishima] Must be why

[Y/N] *Nodding her head* Mhm

[Katsuki, Y/N, and Kirishima] *All simultaneously taking another sip*

[Katsuki] .....Shitty hair..

[Kirishima] ...Yeah bro?

[Katsuki] ....Get out so I can cuddle my girlfriend and go to sleep

[Kirishima] .....Okay bro

[yaz-the-spaz]

First Line Challenge

I was tagged in this forever ago (like in april yikes) by the wonderful  @storyanonguy​ i’m so sorry i’m just now getting to this womp womp i’m a trash human being lol but anyways...

RULES: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

[putting this under a read more cause i couldn’t decide where was a good place to end for a lot of them and this got way long]

Twelve Fic Outtakes/Deleted Scenes: “You know the reason I bought you so many hoodies of your own is so you can stop stealing mine,” Liam says with a teasing smile when he walks into their bedroom to find Zayn sprawled out on the floor in the space between the door and the bed in one of Liam's own too-big hoodies.

call it passive or aggressive: When Liam comes home it’s to complete darkness and his first thought is one of relief because if Zayn went to sleep early then it means he blessedly didn’t see what happened at the Jingle Ball. What Roman made him say. 

The Threequel: Zayn feels the rumble of the uneven pavement underneath him as he cruises through the dark city streets, squished in the backseat of a truck, his hands bound with duct tape that he could rip through like tissue paper if he wanted. Two guards flank him, huge hulking men that by the looks of it are more show than anything. They may be big but from what he’d seen of them when they “caught” him, they’re slow and don’t seem to have too much going on upstairs, to say nothing of their actual fighting skill which is probably mediocre at best, nowhere near a match for him even on his worst day. 

Even better, they’re blissfully unaware that they’re being followed. Don’t even seem to notice the van that’s been following two cars behind them for the last eight miles or so that Zayn can see plain as day in the rearview mirror. It’s hard to keep himself from smirking, even with the barrel of a nine-millimeter pointed menacingly against his side to him still and quiet. He could tear right through the tape and empty the clip of not only that gun but also the one clipped to the belt of the guy on his other side before either of his “chaperones” even knew what happened, knock both them and the driver out and take the wheel if he wanted. But he doesn’t. That’s not part of the plan.

Beautiful Monster: Liam’s up getting ready for an early morning run when he hears it. A muffled noise like something slamming shut. It’s the third time in a row he’s heard it but the first time he’s actually awake enough not to dismiss it as just a stray animal messing about in the bins or an early-rising neighbor shutting their front door too hard or something. Because now that he’s fully alert he’s certain that that was definitely the sound of a car door slamming shut. Specifically his car. Or rather, van. He’d distinctly heard what sounded suspiciously like the soft swoosh of the side door sliding open and shut. Which is crazy because he’s certain that it’s locked and there’s literally nothing in there that’s worth stealing unless this particular thief likes rolls of pink fiberglass insulation, buckets of cement and caulk, or industrial pipes.

Two Point 0: I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

I am strong. I am powerful. I am in control.

This is what Zayn thinks this to himself as he looks at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Repeats it in his head three times, like he always does on days like this. It’s his mantra. A new thing he’s been trying at Harry’s suggestion along with meditation. It’s not something he does everyday. Just on days when he’s not feeling quite as high as usual, not quite so comfortable in his own skin. When the lows start to get to him and he finds it a little harder to push the bad memories back to the recesses of his mind because the nightmares may come less often now but they still come.

Highs and lows. That’s how he categorizes his days now.

be my accomplice to my crime (partners in crime): Liam can feel the butterflies swirling in his stomach as they get closer and closer to town and he’s no less nervous than he was an hour ago or a day ago or a week ago.

It’s been two and half years since Liam left and Zayn’s done his best to avoid having to come back for as long as he could for Liam’s sake, turning down deal after deal, but this one had been too big to pass up. He’d tried. God knows he’d tried. Even gone so far as to try and hide it from Liam so he wouldn’t find out. But Liam had found the telegram early one morning while clearing out both their pants pockets just before leaving for the dry cleaner’s down the street from the hotel they’d been staying at. Zayn had still been asleep as usual, stretched out on the hotel bed in his boxers, sheets tangled around his legs and Liam had dropped back down to the edge of the mattress staring at the paper in his hands and wondering how many more Zayn had thrown away before this one.

Eyes the Size of Baby Worlds: Liam’s dreaming about The Guy again. 

The one whose name he still doesn’t know but who always manages to get assigned the package deliveries for Liam’s building.

Liam catches him sometimes, riding up on his bike. When he’s home, that is. Waits at the window like a lovesick puppy on days he knows he’s getting a delivery and watches The Guy zip through traffic like it’s nothing, hair flying in the breeze cause he never wears a helmet (even though Liam’s pretty sure the bike messenger service The Guy works for requires him to wear one for safety reasons, but God does he look so much hotter and cooler without it even if it is unsafe).

dRuNk/Like I Would/Let Me/Dusk Till Dawn: Zayn feels like Liam’s invaded his senses. Like all he eats, sleeps, and breathes anymore is Liam. Liam Liam Liam. He’d never known it was possible to feel so intoxicated by someone before but that’s how it feels whenever he’s in Liam’s orbit. Like he’s shifted into another plane of existence where the only thing in focus is Liam, the only thing he can smell, see, hear, taste, touch, is Liam, everything else blurring to the background like white noise.

Late summer nights stumbling into hotel rooms together, eyes red and words slurring together, hands and lips mapping out each other’s skin till they’re breathless with want and all the things they’re too afraid to say in the light of day.

you get off on me, it’s like cheating: Sometimes he does this. When he’s alone. Only when he’s alone. When Zayn’s away and he’s got no interviews or performances or recording sessions to go to—nothing to fill up the time—he does this. Only sometimes.

The speakers are loud, turned up to full volume to drown everything else out. All of the dogs are outside, probably barking up a storm, but he can’t hear it over the music. Over the sound of Zayn’s voice wafting over him in soft, mellow tones.

He slips out of his clothes slowly, laying back on the bed in nothing but his pants, eyes closed, lets the sound of Zayn’s voice take over. It’s so loud it feels almost tangible, like it’s all around him, like Zayn’s all around him.

He can almost imagine Zayn’s there with him, singing the words in his ear—a place that is so pure, so dirty and raw—smirking against Liam’s jaw like he knows exactly what this is doing to Liam, how much it gets to him, how he can practically feel the vibrato under his skin, thrumming inside him. His body feels like a livewire, buzzing with electricity, buzzing with Zayn—Zayn inside him, over him, all around him.

when did reality become tv: The crowd boos when Zayn comes around the side entrance and makes his way toward the empty couch next to James. Zayn flips the crowd off as he walks past, glaring at them all sourly as they jeer at him, shoves one of the overeager cameramen away from him with a hand to his lens. It only ends up riling the crowd up even more, makes their boos even louder but he doesn’t really care. He’s mainly only here for the money anyway. 

...Didn’t really notice any patterns myself but to anyone reading this (if anyone actually even bothers reading this monstrosity lol) let me know if you notice any! 

Tagging @ohthathurt @oh-no-its-elle @lirry @empty-altars...probably most ppl have already done this since it’s so old so feel free to ignore (or join in if you want even if you weren’t tagged)