#i didn’t mean to make it a fic

[thecollectionsof]

Henlo Gi, 67 for the asks?

"I met you in a dream"

hi eli!! sorry it’s hours late, i wrote this at work lol. this was such a fun ask, i hope you’re having a great day today <3

(and it became a small dayasco fic oops)

67. If a fic was titled [insert made up title], what would this story be about/how would you write it?

Daya always knew her dreams were different. She didn’t dream of flying, or adventures, or school. She never woke up in the middle of the night shaking due to nightmares, or had abstract dreams so weird they were unexplainable. Her mom said that this was normal for the people in her family—every child born to her family line had special dreams. Prophetic dreams.

Daya thought these dreams were stupid. They told her interesting things sometimes, yes, but they spoiled movies, ruined surprises, and even predicted her diabetic alopecia. At least they gave her some warning, but still. She wanted to dream like everyone else, to wake up in the morning and laugh at weird things, have dreams be a source of inspiration and comfort. Not whatever this was. Not whoever this was.

Ever since the night of her 21st birthday, she’d been having dreams about a girl. The girl was about her age, maybe a bit older. She had blonde hair, two differently colored eyes, and was only a bit shorter than she was. Daya saw this girl everywhere in her dreams, but most of the time she saw her in her apartment. (And she didn’t want to think too hard about it, but she often saw her in her bed. Their bed, if her assumption was right and the girl was going to move in with her.)

But now Daya was 26, and she was tired of waiting. She had watched the girl grow through these past few years, start transitioning—Daya had to look up what the shots she was taking were, but apparently the girl was on hormones. Daya didn’t daydream about helping her with her shots when she saw how she flinched every time, because that would be weird. (She did. She watched her dream self bend down and kiss her on the forehead before helping give her the shot. The girl didn’t flinch that time.)

She wanted what her future self had. She wanted to love and be loved like she saw in her dreams. She just had to find the girl first.

That led to today, a random day in June. Her sister, Crystal, insisted that the two of them go to a specific department store at exactly 12:04, but she wouldn’t say exactly why—which meant it was a dream. It always was.

“Crys, I get that we’re waiting for something, to happen, but if we keep standing in the middle of the candle aisle I’m going to buy them and use them burn your house down,” Daya complains uselessly, already knowing that Crystal wouldn’t budge until she was satisfied that the thing in her dreams had occurred.

“No, wait, it has to be soon. Be patient,” Crystal replies, staring at her watch. She had worn a watch as long as Daya could remember, obsessed with knowing when her dreams would happen in the real world. Daya was more lax with it, just allowing things to happen to her when they happened.

“But I’m hungry. You made me leave my leftovers from last night at home, and I was so excited to eat them, too!” Daya continues, ignoring Crystal’s request for patience, “And you still haven’t explained what we’re doing here.”

Crystal keeps her focus on her watch. “Two minutes,” she murmurs to herself, and Daya gives up, sitting in the ground in the middle of the aisle with a huff.

What a sight they must be, Daya thinks, One brightly colored idiot dead-staring her watch and counting the seconds, and her slightly less flamboyant companion sprawled on the ground. How fun.

“One minute!” Crystal exclaims, excitement (for what? Daya still didn’t know) visible on her face despite her unwavering gaze at her wrist.

Daya sits in silence as Crystal counts down each second.

60, 59, 58…

Daya wonders what the dream could’ve shown, for Crystal to be this excited.

50, 49, 48…

Last time she was this excited, she met Gigi. Now they’re engaged.

40, 39, 38…

Maybe she’s meeting someone else? But why here, at a department store?

30, 29, 28…

And why bring Daya? That was her biggest question. Why was it so important for her to be there?

20, 19, 18…

Maybe it was a relative. Or someone that Crystal’s wanted Daya to meet for a while, like her friend Nicky who lives in NYC.

10, 9, 8…

But that wouldn’t make sense. She’d just call her up to hang out, like she had in the past.

7, 6, 5…

So this was different.

4…

This was something to do with her.

3…

And Crystal was acting how she acts when she was about to meet Gigi.

2…

Wait.

1.

Daya looks up. And there she was, looking exactly like she always did. But now Daya—the real Daya, the Daya in the present—could reach out and touch her.

“Hi? Why are you sitting on the ground?” the girl asks, and Daya scrambles to her feet. She’s struck dumb, unable to form a coherent sentence that wouldn’t make her sound crazy. She should explain herself, or maybe compliment the girl?

“I met you in a dream,” she says instead, and then turns bright red and crumples to the ground. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Really? Cool dream, then.” The girl says, seemingly unaffected by Daya’s awkwardness. She holds out one perfectly manicured hand, and Daya fits her hand into it, allowing herself to be hoisted up. She can’t help but notice how her chipping black nail polish contrasts the girl’s perfect blue polish as she lets go of the girl’s hand.

“I’m Bosco. And I’m interested in this dream. Mind telling me about it over some coffee?” The girl—Bosco—introduces herself with a small smile, and Daya is left breathless by the sight.

“Yes! I mean, yeah, that sounds good. Now?” Daya makes a mental note to kill Crystal for giving her no warning that this is what she was waiting for. Crystal, probably predicting this, is nowhere to be found.

“If you’re free, I know a good place a few minutes from here. C’mon.” Bosco grabs her hand and they navigate their way out of the store. Daya feels faint, but she knows her sugars are fine—all she can focus on is Bosco’s hand in hers, the warmth and the weight both familiar and new all at once.

They get out of the store, and Daya catches Bosco looking at her. She grins, squeezing her hand.

“Can I tell you something weird?” Bosco starts, staring at her with some unknown expression. Daya swallows, nervous but emboldened by Bosco’s hand remaining in hers. “I've been dreaming about you, too.”

#i didn’t mean to make it a fic #but then i started writing and it just. happened #petitmonde #dayasco #asks! #gi writing? it's more likely than you think #also i wrote this on my phone and didn't edit this so just. look over any mistakes pls

[crybaby-bkg]

“Are you ever angry?” You ask quietly, head resting in Bakugou’s lap. His thumb pauses where it strokes your cheeks, the far away gaze in his eyes suddenly snapping into focus as he looks down at you. He looks…different than you remembered, before you both were cast out of the pearly gates.

His hair doesn’t shine as bright as it used to, and it falls a little flatter without the halo pulling it up, soft. His eyes still hold that hardened gaze as a battle angel, but they’re deeper now. More sunken in and hollow, the flickering ichor now a stained crimson. His face is scarred and his hands are rough after the fall but he’s just—different.

“About what?” He asks, his lips pursed in confusion. You reach a hand up, stroking over his bottom lip, smooth a hand through his hair. You can almost feel the throbbing light radiating from him, can almost see how broad and ivory his wings would spread and hold you tight to him.

“It all. Everything. The fall.” You whisper, try not to shrink into yourself with the way Bakugou’s lip curls back in disgust. He pulls away from you and you sit up, resting on your knees, looking at him in such a way that his heart pangs in his chest.

His heart, something he’s never had a reason for when he still had his fists bathed in heavenly fire and no ounce of rebellion hidden under sinless skin. It aches in his chest at the mention of life after being kicked out with the only thing he could hold onto—you.

“Why would I miss my thoughtlessness? My inability to make a decision for myself? Why would I miss being a pawn?” Bakugou is all snarls, all snapping teeth and jowls, but it doesn’t scare you. He’s never scared you, even when his gait was limp from the impact of hard soil, and his hands grew rough, and his back grew jagged from ripped feathers.

“I miss it.” You whisper so carefully into the humid night, hands reaching for his own trembling ones. “I want to be holy again, Katsuki.”

He hisses at you, snatching away like you’ve burned him, like you’ve seized his halo and ripped it into two until it split into horns. Looks at you with such heavenly fire burning in his gaze that you want to shrink beneath him.

“Well—well I don’t. Find someone else who will, cause it sure as hell ain’t me.” You wonder who he’s trying to convince here, with his shaky voice and fluttering eyes and trembling mouth. You stare at him for a long while, lips wobbling at the gravity of it all. Your head hangs low, gathering yourself in your arms, head bowed to him—it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.

“Just hold me for now.” You murmur, eyes low as you settle yourself in his arms, forcing your way into his hold. “Please?” You tack on, unafraid of his bite, his snarl, his growl. Bakugou sits there stiffly for what feels like a century, but you’re used to waiting.

He gathers you in his arms slowly, pulling you into his chest, his body covering yours completely. And if you let yourself relax enough, you can almost feel the warmth of his wings surrounding you again.

#can you tell I watched the first season of good omens today AKSJDKDJD #this is actually my favorite subject matter to write about!! #Ive been writing about it since I was a teen and it’s just so cathartic and relaxing and melancholic in a sense #but I don’t tend to write it for fics bc I usually just write p*rn ajdkdjd #I know this kinda stuff isn’t everybody’s cup of tea but it means a lot to me #at first I was gonna make you guys on either side of each other #but didn’t wanna do the bad boy demon x innocent angel reader thing #and I feel like somebody did the vice versa version too???? I can’t remember but I didn’t wanna unintentionally steal lol #so I just did both fallen angels which I love a shit ton lol #I’m rambling sorry!!! #bakugou treats! 🍬 #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #cw religion #cw religious imagery #tagging just to be safe!

[gojonanami]

Uh? It’s CANON Gojo and geto saw each other as BROTHERS.

alright I’m gonna answer this now lmao — I think with fiction everyone is entitled to their own take on things but with gojo and geto I believe the two to be soulmates — whether it’s platonic or romantic —

I personally see it as romantic, but if you don’t that’s completely fine and I’m not here to force my opinion onto you — it was in the tags — you don’t like, don’t read it! That simple.

I mean I could explain to you why I see it as romantic —

gojo calls geto his “one and only,”

the button left behind when geto defects is his second button that gojo ends up with — the button often given in Japanese culture to romantic partners / interests,

gojo literally says, when he sees kenjaku in geto’s body, “I know in my soul you’re not suguru geto” even in the English dub they localized is as “in my heart and soul,”

to add to that, kenjaku’s whole plan hinged on gojo freaking out upon seeing geto’s body — gojo is someone who is always very calm — he only gets emotional when it comes to geto. literally itadori dies and megumi got taken over Sukuna and he stays completely calm (for the most part), nothing in comparison in his reactions to geto’s defection or kenjaku

geto’s body literally fights back against kenjaku when trying to hurt gojo — and kenjaku has been alive since the heian era at least, and he says he’s never seen that happen before — what that says about their connection is pretty clear cut in my opinion.

the whole theme of jjk 0 is that love is the most twisted curse of all — where did gojo learn that from? Obviously there’s more than one type of love — but this movie was focused on romantic love in particular (between yuta and rika) but also was reflecting on geto and gojo’s relationship

gojo’s last words to geto are allegedly three words according to the VAs and what else could they be? Other than the theme of the entire movie — “I love you???” and then Geto literally blushes in the manga and says, “at least you could have cursed me in the end” — which gojo kinda did.

there’s a whole bunch of other things I could analyze and I’m not here to debate with you or anyone else! it’s fiction — it’s up to us to interpret things that are vague. And you are entitled to your opinion — but what I don’t like is you telling me that my opinion is wrong when it’s not!

It’s vague in the manga for a reason. never did they call each other brothers, nor did they call each other lovers — all they said is that they were best friends. And a lot of people are best friends with their brothers but also a lot of lovers are best friends so

you are allowed to have your opinion friend, just don’t tell me mine is wrong — if you don’t like the ship, read the tag and don’t read the fic!

#sab [asks] #sab [anons] #bruh I never thought I’d get told this #guys we are all entitled to our opinions #but doesn’t mean we can go around other people are wrong #I never will hate on another ship #because it’s not my place to hate on someone else’s fun or like #also guys #if you don’t like what you see in the tags #just don’t read the fic #or if you read it #don’t send me an ask saying you disagree unless you want to have a genuine discussion or conversation #don’t read a dub con fic that’s clearly tagged that #and say I didn’t like it because it’s dub con #yes I have tags for a reason don’t read it babe #no one is making you #sorry I’ve just been getting a lot of comments like these and it’s frustrating 🫠 #no hate to this person but just let people have opinions about silly fictional ships

[birdblorbo]

I cannot express my hatred for the famous Reddie fanfic nickname for Richie that is ‘Chee’. I can’t even explain why but i hate it. I think it’s cause it was started when infantilizing and feminizing Eddie was a big thing. Aka the pastel uwu skirts Eddie x bad boy always smoking Richie.

Anyways I vote to let that nickname die. Thank you.

#Im not in the mood to argue so #don’t like don’t read #It’s giving the shitty gay Gacha videos on YouTube #if you know what I mean I’m sorry #when I was big into Reddie I read Wattpad fics cause I didn’t know about ao3 #so I definitely got hit with a big wave of bad boy x soft boi #once i discovered ao3 it was a bit better but that nickname was everywhere #i discovered Stenbrough through ao3 Reddie fics tho #and now Im obsessed with Stenbrough #so I guess I should thank Reddie for that ajdjjwj #it 2017 #it 2019 #it fandom #losers club #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #reddie #pls don’t make me regret tagging y’all

[makotonaegiunderstander]

something I’ve been thinking abt is how many people think Makoto is immune to despair. I don’t think he is. I think becoming the ultimate Hope was BECAUSE he felt despair. He wouldn’t have fully reached that point without Junko. Makoto becoming such a beacon was his last attempt to avoid completely falling and it wasn’t because he didn’t feel despair, it was because he was too damn stubborn to allow everything to go to waste and he refused to sacrifice his beliefs for someone else’s. His inner monologue tells me he DID experience the same new low the other suvivors did in the final trial, but at the point where he had the choice to give up and die, he looked at the others and he looked at Junko and he couldn’t allow it to happen, not out of self preservation, but because the idea that Junko would have control over their lives made him FURIOUS. and that utter refusal to die kicked in, wether luck or otherwise, and he made the concious effort for one last push while something in him was breaking. He had to be broken in order for the Ultimate Hope to come through so aggressively, bc it could only exist in the face of the Ultimate Despair. He snapped the same way she did, but in the other direction. In what could have been his final moments he chose to embody everything Junko wasn’t, and every single optimistic and luck fueled ideal in him suddenly charged forward and pushed him. It was a combination of the final straw and a choice. Makoto isn’t immune to feeling despair, he’s just too stubborn to fall into it of his own volition. I think that’s why I like that scene in DR3 so much. People were SO SHOCKED Makoto actually fell for the tape, that he actually became despair for a moment. I saw people getting mad or disappointed, saying it was pathetic and Makoto seemed to fall from some sort of pedestal for them. Honestly part of me wonders if that sort of mentality, which clearly people had in universe, affected Makoto a bit. Like he started to see himself as less of a person, subconsciously. Prompting him to take more risks, less self preservation, act way more bold. It seems he has to be reminded a lot not to put himself in danger by his friends, to not do something too reckless. All over the place I would see in regards to that scene either this frivolous ‘oh this was just angst drama with no meaning behind it’ or ‘he can do better than that. he’s so weak’ or ‘come on, there’s no way he’d fall into despair, he’s the Ultimate Hope!’ This kind of mentality, which was kind of ironic considering Ryota was there the entire time saying the same thing and treating Makoto the same way. Like Makoto was superhuman. Like Makoto didn’t feel despair the same way ‘normal people’ did. In a way that was also how Munakata saw Makoto. Makoto stopped being a PERSON to the world when he became Ultimate Hope, he became a concept, a belief system, much the same way Junko ascended beyond herself. But the difference is that treating Makoto that way is the opposite of the reason Makoto became such a representative for hope. He wasn’t doing something no one else could. He was doing something everyone had the chance to, he just… was a little more optimistic, a little more stubborn, a little more ‘gung-ho’ about things. He just took the lead where no one else did, where no one else knew they even COULD in the face of Junko’s unstoppable force. She had overcome the biggest threats and obstacles in the world, what could one person do? And the answer Makoto found was, anything. Everything. It doesn’t all rest on Makoto, he’s just the one that was inspired to try to do what seemed like the impossible. But as evidenced by the change in his friends after that trial, it’s clearly not something only Makoto is capable of. The others pulled out of despair thanks to Makoto, but it was their choice to do so.

“But… this world is so huge, and we’re so small. What can we do…? No, we can probably do anything. Yeah! We can do anything!”

#makoto naegi #Danganronpa character analysis #Danganronpa #danganronpa thh #danganronpa future arc #I fucking love Makoto Naegi man. #I think there’s a fine line of nuance to Makoto that’s easy to miss bc he doesn’t really make it known #he’s not a pushover and he’s not overpowered. he’s a people pleaser but he will say what needs to be said #he’s an immovable object and the exact opposite of Junko but he’s also just a normal guy who’s optimistic and (un)lucky #he isn’t invincible but he has immense power to his words the same way Junko did #if anything his superpower is being kind above all else. he’s compassionate to some of the worst people in the world. #he was even conpassionatr to an extent to Junko. he didnt want her to kill herself despite everything she’s done #and he still acknowledges that for years she was a classmate and friend. #I do think the more he learned abt what she did the more he’s come to actually hate her though #post the first game he always refers to her without a suffix to her name which is one of the most subtle rude things you can do #it means you have zero respect for the person you’re referring to #and he speaks about her with some venom he doesn’t use for anyone else in the future arc #he’s not incapable of feeling negative emotions #I really liked the future arc scene bc it showed that Makoto DID experience enough despair to have overcome him if he didn’t refuse #and that it still affects him deeply. people treat him like he’s either this perfect ideal Chad or this baby chick who’s so delicate #and no one really focuses on how makoto shoulders so much and yet is still vulnerable. #honestly that guy was DUE for a mental breakdown even without the tape. it would have happened eventually #I actually wrote one based on him finally hitting a breaking point after giving so much of himself away and keeping nothing for himself #that his issues that he shoves down constantly finally can’t be held down anymore. Hajime helps him bc he knows how that feels #it was a LONG time ago that I wrote that but honestly if I can remember where i was going w it I might finish it #it was initially an rp but I could make it a fic #anyway. the point is Makoto is SO much more complex than people give him credit for #the most fundamental thing about him is that he’s normal and that’s ok! that’s what helps him rise!

[puppydoggraham]

Doyboy Will Graham…. Even though Hannibal doesn’t like dogs he pets Will’s dogs and says good boy once and it short circuits Will’s brain and Hannibal catches on and keeps saying it to purposely make him hot and bothered

#I mean what who said that #if you see me write a fic on this ever… mind your business #trans guy talking about dogboy Will Graham I said oh yeah I’m sure #hannigram #will Graham #I know if I write this it’ll b popular with my trans audience LOL #just a hunch #bye I realized writing this post makes my url even better….. #damn ig I’ve been dogboy will truthing all along and didn’t even know

[moonilit]

Aww the side story of the barbie (not date) but from Shouta’s POV, this is the cutest by @cyanoscarlet

Alliance in Pink - Side Stories, First art

#They are cute your honor #I might make some sketches for clive and dion and terrace but that will have to wait a little #Dani punched me in the guts my hands are shaky (in a good way) 😭 #Clive seeing them holding hands: HE IS HOLDING HAND WITH A GIRL!! He didn’t tell me he is on holding hands terms?? #Dion: calm down ifrit im sure he knows what he is doing #Clive head in hands and devastated : you don’t understand *cry* #Jill will call the next day and ask Joshua to please talk to clive because he have been laying on the kitchen floor since he got back #Clive with the horrific mortified ordeal of kids growing up #If he hold hands now what next??? Kiss on the head?? Sharing a seat?? *gasp* does he know what that means?? #[clive sees Jote kiss at the bus station] #*clive pass out* #This fic is about dion getting first seat at clive’s crisis of grasping the reality his little brother is older than 10 #It doesn’t help both have the brain of a nugget #Terrance really saw clive and thought ‘he should be my husband’s friend’ #joshua rosfield #dion lesage #sir terence #clive rosfield #jote #ffxvi #final fantasy xvi

[nudibranchlover]

fucking Rengoku silly is fun to imagine but so is just like, domestic stuff? like being goobers and hanging out, teasing one another or going out together and talking about your special interests with one another, just enjoying eachothers company -💥

SFW

I headcanon that he reads a lot!

just imagine waking up and snuggling up beside him on a cold day and you’re immediately warm. he’s reading something and puts his book down to wrap you in the blankets properly, kissing you and asking how you slept.

he complains about your hair and morning breath and you shove him a little, which makes him laugh far too happily for you to stay mad.

and later when you’re fully awake, you ask to do his hair and he agrees. brushing through all of that bright yellow would be an eyesore to most, but you love it, and even more you love his voice.

the whole time you’re taking care of him he’s snacking and telling you all about his favourite novel. he doesn’t buy new books often, because why would he need to when he can always re-read his favourite once a week?

so he loudly tells you everything he’s noticed on his latest re-read, telling you all about subtle body language the main character uses that later on becomes relevant to the story, and how the author had done a recent interview and simply repeats everything they’d said in it.

he’s not quiet during any of this, finishing a box of cookies easily and asking about what you’re doing while you’re mindlessly enjoying the contact, listening attentively.

despite being hard of hearing he listens to you just as attentively, and updates his mental list of things you enjoy every day you’re together.

it’s sickeningly sweet how you act around each other, at least to other people, but being corny is the fun of it all.

(and most people would kill for a boyfriend like kyojuro but maybe that’s the rose-coloured glasses talking)

being intimate is just one part of your complex relationship, other acts of intimacy are always appreciated, and often mean a lot more to the both of you than anything else.

#I didn’t mean to make this a fic but here you are! #autism #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #rengoku x you #autistic rengoku kyojuro #autistic reader #gn reader #gn!reader #rengoku x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #fluff #sfw #sft #asks #💥

[yeehawbvby]

I FINALLY HAD MY FIRST FUNNY HATE-COMMENT (note: their name)

Pre-edit below the cut. It was just grammar but yeag

#I know hate is a strong word but it’s not mean and ‘criticism comment’ just doesn’t hit the same #it’s such a relief to get a comment criticizing the fic without making me want to cry and throw up too #vigorously tapping the sign (the tags on my fic) #(the first tag is dom/sub. the 5th is smut. 6th is shameless smut. #and more than half of the tags are About Sex like. what did you think was gonna happen) #while also tapping THEIR NAME VORKVOEKCKE LIKE??? U PROBABLY GOT OFF TO IT WHY ARE YOU COMPLAINING #unless they’re complaining bc it didn’t satisfy them #in that case. to each their own #shut up crisa #tw sex talk

[quietwingsinthesky]

Trans Boy King Sam is very funny. Demons will do possession, torture, murder, all that jazz, and brag about it, but transphobia? Absolutely not. Not in their Hell.

Sure, Azazel will throw Sam into a demon blood hunger games, but he’ll use the right pronouns for him the whole time. He’s not a monster.

#obviously this is because Lucifer is trans and that spreads to all demons. even the ones he didn’t personally make #anyway. boy king as a weirdly gender affirming title. #Sam: yeah I don’t *want* to rule hell but. idk it is kind of validating that they want me as their king #dean (visibly alarmed): what the fuck are you even talking about???? #dean gets his gender validated by post-hell angel surgery. Sam gets his from his demon blood hrt. they’re so normalcore. #(fics where lucifer calls sam his boy king are already so. O_o but I mean add this and. O_o o_O O_o #when ur hell themed pet names are sooo gender…. #and I’m maybe he also calls Sam that during sex shutupdon’tlookatme it would be hot. getting railed by Sam’s strap and praising his king…) #trans sam winchester #spn #sam winchester

[starlooove]

No bc fuck tim but it really really bothers me how people ignore his growth like he used to be an asshole and I’ll give tim Stans one thing: now he’s so so so stale but what I disagree with is that this staleness is bc nobody likes him like it’s in fact the exact opposite where everyone likes him so much they dont want to do anything. Even when it’s him surface level challenging Bruce it’s when everyone else is doing it too; but he’s still the backbone of the fam! Etc. and it’s so irritating bc him gaining more compassion and empathy even for people he doesn’t fw is so fun to watch and that’s why the captain boomerang thing was so out of character! (Not in a from the author way but in a tim wouldn’t do that and he and Bruce both knew it which is why it went down like it did. Same way dick killing joker was ooc; not in fanon sense but in a he would hate himself forever for this sense) and speaking of that it’s such an interesting mirror to Bruce who genuinely believes that everyone can grow vs Tim’s it doesn’t matter if they grow it’s not my decision to make like it’s the same but it’s not AND WITH CASS’ IT DOESNT MATTER IF THEY CHOOSE NOT TO GROW I WONT DO IT! like ugh. And anyways even when people acknowledge it they boil it down to “Janet and Jack taught him that the capitalist pigs that they are” like no. This is who tim was. Tim was the kind of guy who’d blame a dead kid for dying. That’s ok. Also Janet and Jack? Please reread anything involving them that’s not a fic like Jack had anger issues and they were both aloof at worst like relax.

#the Jack and Janet thing is both an understatement and an exaggeration but I don’t think anyone reads enough to care #some tim stan might get all pissy and be like ‘no look this is everytime jack yelled at him and boarding schools are abusive’ to which #and its like narratively that means nothing bc the tim you made up to justify the Drake parents you made up by blowing shit out of #proportion is also made up and if all of that was abusive there’d be smth to show for it besides ur homophobic Jack #too girlboss to care but still terrible Janet bc god forbid a woman have a personality from ur fics #anyways that’s also the reason I’m ignoring the council of spiders #well two reasons #first is that was just a moment to make tim look cool and did absolutely nothing for him or his character moving on #like at all #I’d say it fucked with his previous established dislike of killing for his own reasons #and while that COULD be interesting it’s not bc they didn’t do shit with it #and fanon doesn’t do fun shit with it either #nothing about how tim in his most manic state did shit he doesn’t want to remember shit he’d HATE other ppl for #just “’remember what I did to ur base Ra’s? mess with me again and see what I do next 😼’ #like ok can you be real and genuine? #anyways I think #AND NOT IN A HATER WAY #Tim would benefit from being humbled #like genuinely I detest the world can’t move without tim running it but the idea that tim thinks that way is so good to me #and #I think next step being him realizing that’s not true would be a BIG push for his character #bc like I said tim Stans are right in the fact that he’s stale as hell rn #but that’s bc there’s nothing to say bc there’s nowhere to go! y’all want a tim action story where he shows off how badass he is reread #the Bruce quest and maybe it’ll remind you he’s not ceo lmao but anyways there’s nothing internal to say about him atp bc nobody wants to #say anything that’s not propping him up. same with Bruce! Gotham war was such a copout but it’s like ppl are saying he’s stale and it’s bc #god forbid he makes a lasting fumble. and I’m not under the illusion this is new I’m just saying it’s weird that fandoms not clocking it #anywayyys I really do like thinking about the No killing rule and how different it manifests for each perosn #like the way each distinct difference tells u so much about them #UGH ONLY SLIGHTLY RELATED BUT DUUUUUKE BEING LIKE IDGAF ABOUT GUNS LIKE UR SO REAAAL #anyways enough tim positivity for today FUCK THAT NIGGA!

[flowercrowngods]

bard/knight 2 extra boost 💪

pfff the way i cackled!! i adore you. thank you for your service etc etc 🫶 bard/knight part 1 preceding snippets: no. 1 • no. 2 • no. 3 • no. 4

Chrissy laughs, a joyful sound echoing through the hall and pulling many a pair of eyes toward them, but Eddie pays them no mind even as nervousness makes an eerie reappearance in the forefront of his mind.

“I cannot wait to hear you play tonight,” the Princess continues, unaware of Eddie’s dilemma. There must be something in his face, though, for she reaches out to take hold of his hand. “You will, right? Tell me you will, Eddie. What reason have you to look so gloom?”

Eddie turns his hand to hold onto hers, propriety be damned even as he hears a gasp or two followed by scandalised whispering. For Hawkins, everything he does is scandalous, even merely existing. Holding the Princess’s hand is but another item on the list.

“Forgive me, my Princess, but I cannot play tonight.”

“But—“

“It is the Knightmærs that you long to hear, and it was always a dream to fill these halls with song of my own, believe me. But it seems I am a fraud, and I need to do right by someone first before I will ever take to my lute again.” After a moment of silence he adds, “If you would like me to leave, I understand. But I will not sing.”

The Princess looks at him for a long time, reading something that might be written behind his eyes, but she keeps a hold of his hand.

“He talked to you, then.”

Eddie’s heart falls as he grasps the meaning of her words. She knows about Lord Harrington and his involuntary ties to Eddie’s renown. Everyone in this room might know, might have heard of his deeds, might have seen his wounds as he returned from the battlefield that seems to follow his every step, while Eddie was out in the world living a lavish life, making a name for himself with the famosity he earned telling another man’s stories of valour and agony as if they were his own.

“He did,” Eddie whispers.

🤍🌷 make me write (please) — you can't vote anymore but asks are still welcome as i make my way through them ever so slowly

#i must admit i didn’t write anything for your ask and instead just took what i had following ask no.4 #but in my defense it’s 1am and i was about to go to sleep just now hdhd #steddie fic #steddie #bard/knight #bard!eddie munson #knight!steve harrington #also princess chrissy means everything to me i hope you know #make me write ask game #ask game answered #so much buildup when all we want is to see them make out in the rain huh

[lonelysucker7]

Cigarettes out the Window

Pairing: Kaine Parker/Louise Kennedy

Summary: Based on the comic “Spider-Man: The Lost Years” (Specifically issue #3). Kaine Parker remembers his intimate time with detective Louise Kennedy and those cigarettes she never stopped smoking.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of violence, drug references

Not proofread. Wanted to make this after I got inspired by a song. Is it a song fic? Not really, but you could feel the references in here. The fic no one asked but the one I needed haha.

Enjoy!

………………………………………………………………………….

Kaine grew accustomed to the smell of cigarette smoke over the years.

Everywhere he walked, his nose caught the scent of burn wafting in the air from someone smoking in a dark corner. Or someone dangling their hand mindlessly out the window with the stick in their fingers as he swinged through the city.

But every once and then on the top of a rooftop, the highest there could be in Houston he would stare up in the night sky watching the stars glow. And its beauty becomes interrupted by the smell of smoke.

Even at the highest peak, it was always there.

She was there. Louise Kennedy.

A blur of memories that came back to him even in his sleep, startled him awake and he gasped her name out. His mind raced and his eyes searched the darkness of the hotel room and found nothing. Heard nothing.

Kaine would check on the sleeping Aracely, making sure she was alright and unharmed. Then he would leave to hang out on the balcony, taking an overview of the city lights go on and off like little flames in the night.

Nothing would beat their glow except the moon, the stars, the sun and a lighter.

In his own silence he thinks back to those many years ago…

………………………………………………………………………….

“Louise, why do you smoke?”

The half dressed blonde woman looks back over her shoulder towards the man on the couch who called for her attention. Her pink lips stretched to a friendly smile.

“They calm me down from my high. Or at least, feed more pleasure to it.”

The man nods a little, processing her words carefully. He thinks back to their shared kisses of intimacy and the tongue in his mouth swirls a little inside, tasting the faint flavor of smoke. It was sweet and sour.

His mind snaps back to reality as the couch sinks a little and the weight of Louise’s body acknowledges her presence. He can feel himself starting to smile as her head rests on his shoulder. He watches the way her lips move around the stick adjusting it to comfort, and her nose exhaling the smoke from there.

The way she does these things, it’s strange and amusing to him almost. But he can’t help but wrinkle his nose a little and lift a hand to rub the smell away. This action catches Louise’s attention and she leans away from him slightly.

“Oh, sorry about that Kaine.” Her hand comes up to remove and burn out the cigarette on the tray, but her wrist is grabbed gently by him. Kaine shakes his head and assures her.

“Don’t mind me ruining your moment. I’ll get used to it in time.” He offers a faint smile to her. Louise smirks a little in return and she nods, feeling his hand carefully pull away from hers. She drags another bit of the cigarette in her mouth and exhales slowly, letting out a soft giggle.

Louise reaches again for her cigarette and she turns to Kaine, raising it up to him. He eyes it curiously, the smoke following its swift trail behind it. Kaine gets the hint she wants him to try it out. With the back of his hand, he pushes it away from him and says,

“No thank you. I… I don’t like it.”

Louise raises an eyebrow, making a face that she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“How could you not like it?”

“Don’t really like the essence of it.”

“So you’ve never tasted it?”

“Never.” Kaine raises an eyebrow as she scoffs in response. She inhaled the smoke again and exhales it with a sigh. She says,

“Everyone smokes here. Am I supposed to believe that easily you don’t?”

Kaine snorts lightly. “I’m not like anyone else.”

Louise rolls her eyes a bit, and she waves him dismissively. She shifts in her seat and amusingly says, “How many times will you go on saying that?”

Kaine shrugs, pushing some of his curls closer to his face almost creating a curtain between him and Louise. He mumbled, “As much as I need to remind… myself.”

Louise sighs a little bit more loudly, and she gets on the couch to sit up on her knees. Her hands trail up to his arm and she leans closer to him. Kaine could smell her perfumed scent mixed in with the smoke, as he closed his eyes when he heard her soft honeyed voice near his ear.

“You're right. Remind yourself that. But let me add that it’s because you’re unique. Much more than anyone else here. You’re my one in a million.”

Louise's warm hands moved around his body, snaking her arms around him. In the gentle embrace Kaine leaned more into her and let himself be comforted. The tension in his body became relaxed and both him and Louise leaned back on the couch together. He rested his head on her chest, listening to the calm heartbeat and breathing of her smoking.

The dark room is silent for a moment as he breaks it with a soft monotone voice.

“I think I’ll try it out sometime these days. Smoking.”

He feels Louise’s hand pat him lovingly on his back. A soft chuckle rumbles from her.

“Whatever you say sweetheart. I’ll be here for your first.”

………………………………………………………………………….

On the night of her funeral, Kaine did everything in his power to avoid attending. But after everything, after murdering her it was hard not to go back. A final goodbye at least.

For the night he crashed (literally) in her apartment. Kaine remembered how he slept on the couch that night, afraid to go to her room and not find her there despite knowing she was gone.

Everywhere the lingering smell of cigarettes and Louise’s sweet perfume held him on a chokehold. The room illuminated with the glow of the moon, keeping him both awake and asleep.

Eventually he walked to the curtains and closed them completely, leaving him and the darkness in each other's company.

Kaine stared at nothing in the darkness as his tears streamed down the sides of his face. No sound was uttered as he cried and he could feel himself falling apart by the minute. So much for being one in a million. At this moment he had wished Louise pulled the trigger of the gun on him.

The weight of her betrayal was still fresh in his mind as her facade fell and became the monster he overlooked. Her twisted heart capable of fooling a love to a monster left him so blind and vulnerable. And yet in his mind he still insisted he was something, anything to her. She did spare him. She really did…And both paid the price for their faults.

Her screams couldn’t leave his mind as she struggled violently to be let go of his hold, her back pushing against his chest. He recalled his nose burying near her hair as he smelled her one more time. And the feeling of her delicate neck breaking and burning in his hands was a brutal reminder of the horrible joy he got from relieving the burden Louise had become to him. The many times he kissed that neck and face he never saw what the outcome would be in the end for those parts.

Now he knew.

………………………………………………………………………….

He left her place the moment the funeral had passed, bothering to clean up whatever mess he left. Underneath the couch he picked out the pack of cigarettes that she must have dropped and become lost.

Mindlessly he shoved those in his back pocket. And checked the place once again. And left.

Atop the buildings he ran and jumped, the rain crashing down to hit him in the face like a whip. Remembering when he first arrived in Utah, the first thing he saw was the graveyard. Not like it mattered to him at the time, only imagining what he would be like dead in one of those places.

For Louise to make it her final resting place was no surprise. How she died could have ended up differently.

He would have preferred her death to be the hand of her own smoking addiction. Get lung cancer once she aged. One where she’d be a dead woman walking.

Living, but dying.

At last he arrived at the graveyard, and he wasted no time walking around each place to find her name. He could have laughed if he realized it should have been obvious which one was hers. Everyone had their own set of flowers, dead and alive.

Louise Kennedy, had none.

Stopping in front of her, he slowly felt his chest swell up with the bubbling feeling of guilt and anger. It was pathetic and almost pitiful to see how her area was completely empty. Maybe she had no family close to her mourning for her. He didn’t sit down on the ground, instead squatting and hunched over as the rain poured down on his head. Kaine didn’t say a word, and just lowered his eyes feeling incapable of reading her name carved on the headstone.

His legs and body began to hurt from the position he was on and he decided to sit in the moist ground. He felt everything soak him up. His face was becoming wet and he couldn’t tell which of the wetness between the rain and his tears were.

Oddly, it was warm.

In his seat he shifted a little as his eyebrow raised when he felt something discomforting from behind his pants. Pulling it out, a shaky breath exhaled from his mouth. His chest hurt even more now that he was holding something very close to the person that once lived: Her pack of cigarettes.

The box was warm in the grip of his hand. Maybe he didn’t bring flowers but he brought her favorite thing. His silence and the soft trickle of rain hitting the ground were present in the background as he kept staring at the box. The edge of his thoughts kept insisting him to do something right now. In that instant an idea popped in his mind. He stared at the ground of her grave and back at the small pack and a startling giggle escaped his lips.

He remembered how he never really tried his first cigarette. She said she would be witness. And here they were: together again. Such a perfect final goodbye for them both. Shaking the box to his ear to listen if there was enough, he gritted his teeth in satisfaction. He turns to her grave and a rough mock in his tone rings out.

“Share a final smoke with me, Louise. You said you were gonna see me. Now watch.”

Staring at the pack he turned it in his hand noting the wrinkles on the surface. He paused when he noticed a faint pink smudge, and dented teeth on the side. The pad of his thumb traced there a little, feeling the small bumps underneath his fingertip. The pink smudge spread slightly to the right.

Lipstick.

Perhaps her hands were busy at the time and must have held the box in between her teeth. Well no more of that now. Shaking the box, two cigarettes dropped out onto his palm and he pulled out a lighter he had found on a nearby counter.

He ignited the lighter to life with a shaky thumb, taking a couple tries to make the spark. The open flame flickered in and out from the rain that crossed its way. Nearing both cigarette tips, they gently began to burn red and smoke emitted from them.

He closed the cap and tossed it aside on the ground near her headstone. With both sticks in his fingers, he shifted in his seat on the ground. He raised one towards his lips, muttering,

“One for me…”

His chapped lips wrapped around the stick, adjusting them comfortably with a small roll.

“…And one for you.”

He stretched forward and jabbed the cigarette in the middle of the dirt as it stared upwards. Sad quiet eyes watched it fight, keeping itself burning, but the weight of the rain was too much. The stick slowly shrunk down in the dirt, unable to keep its shape intact. The faint sizzle of the stick began to wane, the smoke whipping in the wind.

In an instant… The burn was gone.

Too bad.

Now it was his turn.

Carefully he took a slow drag of the cigarette with a pucker, closing his eyes as the smoke of nicotine settled in his lungs. The rich and nasty flavor settled on his tongue like nothing. The familiar taste of her kiss instantly coming back to him and his eyes watered. The rain pattered on his hair heavily, matting down his curls and they stuck on his breaking skin. His breathing ragged a little, already feeling the pinch on his throat and lungs at the same time, and his hands dug the soft earth beneath him.

A haze moved in his mind, almost leaving him in a trance like state. He lolls his head to the side and his eyes read the letters on the headstone.

R…I…P…L…O…U…I..—

“ARGH—!”

Kaine’s body aggressively recoils forward as the cellular degeneration kicks in, and his mouth drops the cigarette onto the ground. His hands reached up to his face, gripping his cheeks as he felt the skin stretch and rip a little apart. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream as the pain of smoke in his lungs and throat adds to his trigger. It burned and cooled, like chewing a mint gum and drinking water. He chokes out his tears, coughing out and huffing as much fresh air he can to ease his pain. His sight keeps being blurred by a mix of his tears and the rain.

His eyes keep darting at her headstone, and he shuffles desperately forward quickly pressing his face on the surface of it. He felt the coldness sink calmly onto his skin, wishing for her warm arms to wrap around him. Just like she always did.

Please… please Louise…

The rain kept on and the rumble of thunder came and went from time to time.

The pain eventually left, and he was left in a mess of grime, dirt, blood, and the taste of smoke. Gently he pulls himself away from the headstone and moves back, gritting his teeth feeling his bones shake inside him.

The feeling of wanting to go home ached immensely. But what home? After this what now? Questions he would soon have to respond on his own with any hope he had left. And that was the problem. He hoped too much.

Kaine pushed himself up from the ground, staggering back with a groan. His eye catches the box of cigarettes on the ground, sticks spilled and stained with dirt from his thrashing.

He didn’t know what to do except push the box near her grave and with the heel of his foot, started grinding it down. And he kept doing it and doing it and doing it, a new found rage burning again. He never liked them anyway. He probably never will. His mind rushed in an angry thrill,

I hate you I hate you I hate you—!

“…I-I love you.”

Hurriedly he pushes the dirt and grass onto the cigarettes, burying them and flats it out as if nothing had happened. And he turned away from Louise’s grave, not wanting to look at her again. He walks away with the bitter taste of her cigarette on his tongue. The rain settled down to a quiet drizzle, the peppered stars on the night sky twinkling.

She will never leave his mind. If there was smoke, she would be there.

Always.

#kaine parker #Louise Kennedy #I hope i didn’t make anyone cry #I cried writing this hahah #writers on tumblr #writer #I said “frick hw I wanna do this instead. #No I don’t smoke #Don’t do drugs kids #I h​ad to look up people smoking and hear them talk about their experience #Ik this is the least ship anyone wanted but it’s the one I needed to be explored a little #Angst #death mention tw #tw violence #tw drugs #Oh by experience I mean like how do cigarettes taste like and all that #Smoking has a new meaning to me now #spider man #It’s just only brief in the beginning that’s why and the rest is just what happened afterwards #Did I even explore the relationship? I’m starting to think not really #This fic is NOT canon to the story I repeat it’s just a FANFIC #marvel comics #Also teeny reference to the lovely #aracely penalba #Spider-Man: The Lost Years #Louise Kennedy/Kaine Parker

[theflyingfeeling]

I don’t know if I’m just imagining things but I feel like Olli and Aleksi are actually so close 🥺 for example I feel like they post so many pics together and I know they post with others too and it’s not a big deal but e.g. Olli has posted 5 pics with someone else this year and 3 of them are with Aleksi.. so it must mean something right?? 🥺 and I feel like they spend a lot of time together yk even ”outside the band” when they’re having a day off and they still do music (the remix) etc. together 😭

Yeah I mean I for one am so deep in the Olli/Allu delulu land that it's VERY easy for me to agree and confirm all of this 😭 they're boyfriends secret lovers special friends and it shows 🥺

Here are all the pictures of the two of them I could find on Olli's IG, for reference 💞

+ the group picture Olli posted when Aleksi first joined the band, with the caption 'so now there's six of us' 🥺

#i left out the one where he's pushing aleksi's and niko's heads in the water 😳 #and one from balboa bts with tommi in the background #ngl the anon ask i got yesterday has given me MASSIVE headworms of 2 young guys having thought they had their life all figured out already #and then one day they realise they've fallen for their friend and bandmate 😭 #friends to lovers but with troubles in between my most beloved trope in the world 💞💖💗💓💕💖💞 #with truckloads of (mutual) pining and just general confusion about what they should do about their stupid (mutual) feelings #(i'd love to read/write something of this sort but i'm too anxious about everyone being all #'boohoo they'd never cheat also you're disrespecting their gfs' #like............first of all it's fiction second of all IT'S FUCKING FICTION third of all i ain't gonna tell 'em lol #obviously i wouldn’t include their actual gfs and OBVIOUSLY i wouldn’t show the fic to anyone who's in it?? #i just don't understand how someone could be offended about something they don't know about lol #and OBBVVVIOUSSSLLYYYY i wouldn’t write either of the guys as somehow happy or confident about cheating like come on #there'd be SO MUCH guilt and shame and angst and they’d still love their gfs so much #but then there's also this guy who's their friend and whose stinky socks made them barf once on the tourbus #and who means the world to them. they didn’t mean for it to happen. it just did 😭 #anyway sorry for rambling i swear i don't mean to make everything about my silly fic ideas #i just can't help myself and i need a way to let it all out somehow without bothering anyone in particular 😭😭😭) #ollixallu #anon asks #answered asks

[padfootastic]

hello! here’s a lil drabble/ficlet situation about sirius being super invested in baby harry’s life, to the point he gets annoyed and jealous when he’s not immediately caught up on every little thing.

x

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.”

Lily entered the dining room to an unusually confrontational scene. On one end of the table was her husband, hands held up, palms facing outward in a gesture matched by the pleading look on his face. Right across from him was Sirius, arms crossed across his chest and a severe frown on his face. In the middle, Harry was sitting with a thumb in mouth, watching his father and godfather intently. Lily was a bit surprised at how quiet he was being—usually the presence of his favorite people meant an overload of squeals and shouts and giggles.

“Padfoot—“ James began only to be cut off by Sirius’ hand swiping through the air.

“No, James, I didn’t expect this from you of all people,” he took a deep breath and Lily was startled to see the emotions play out on his face. “How could you?”

Lily decided to enter the conversation then before things could devolve any further.

“Er, what’s going on here?” In any other situation, the way in which both their heads swivelled to look at her, coupled with the surprise on their face, would’ve been comical but Lily was too distracted to care about that right now. She couldn’t even remember the last time James and Sirius had had a disagreement. Those two just didn’t do that.

Which was another issue all in itself and if she focused too long on it, it made her head hurt (how can two people who spend as much time as they do together never have any tension?? she didn’t get it, didn’t think she ever would). But for now, she had more important things to tend to.

“Well?” She asked again, seeing the expressions change on their face. James was making a face, not unlike a child who’d been caught with their hand in a biscuit jar whereas Sirius had doubled down. His brows were furrowed, lips pressed into a straight line, and the most stubborn expression Lily had ever seen on his face.

“We, er, that is—“ James tried, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s nothing, hon.”

Lily snorted in response. She could see Sirius staring incredulously at James and really, this was just getting weirder by the second.

“Evans,” Sirius said, curtly. She didn’t even bother correcting him knowing it was a lost cause at this point. “Will you please remind your husband that we had an understanding and I won’t stand for him breaking it as he pleases?”

“Sirius—“

Lily doesn’t let James finish his groan before cutting in. “What understanding?”

“Did you and your husband not name me Harry’s godfather for a reason?”

“…yes?”

“And does that not entail certain responsibilities and obligations on my part—“

“…Yes.”

“—as well as yours?” Sirius finished, speaking over her uncertain agreement. Now she was a bit stumped.

“Ours?” She blinked at him, wondering what he was on about. A quick glance in James’ direction showed no help from that side. Her husband had the most resigned expression of exasperation on his face, which was really saying something, considering how often he looked like that.

“But of course!” Sirius said, “You are aware that James has the mirrors, yes?” This time he didn’t even bother waiting for her to nod before continuing. “Which means instantaneous communication.” He stressed the last two words, eyes squinting and a stern wrinkle appearing on his brow.

“Si, stop being so dramatic,” James cut in. “You’re confusing the dragonshite out of Lily.”

She grimaced lightly. “Very elegantly put, darling.” Her dear, dear husband only sent her a cheeky wink in return.

“Fine,” Sirius sneered. “Let me ask you this, then.” He pointed one long, pale finger in her direction, her eyebrows raising at the attempt at intimidation.

“Is it or is it not true that Harry, my godson, crawled on his bum across the living room exactly eight days and three hours ago as of right now?”

She opened her mouth to say—not sure what, exactly, but something. Before she could, though, Sirius had already cut in with an overemphasised, “And. Is it or is it not true that James, once my dearest friend—“

“Once?” James yelped.

“—and you, fellow co-wife—“

“You can’t be serious right now,” James groaned, clearly distressed if he wasn’t considering his egregious word choice.

“—did not even bother to use aforementioned mirror to inform me, post-haste?” Sirius finished dramatically, with the air of someone throwing down the gauntlet. He stared at them with a ridiculous air of triumph around him, daring them to disagree.

Lily could only stare in bemused disbelief at her husband’s best friend, nay, brother. One of her closest friends in his own right. Someone who, by all accounts, was incredibly smart and articulate.

Perhaps his bloodline was making more of an appearance here?

“He really has gone off his rocker, hasn’t he, Lils?” James’ spoke what she dared not say out loud. “Should’ve considered this before putting him in charge of the sprog.”

The words had the intended effect. In front of her wide eyes, Sirius basically puffed up in outrage, reminding her terribly of a charm-dried duck. He leaned forward to wrap a possessive arm around Harry, as if James could’ve been anything but joking and they’d take his precious godchild away from him, keeping him plastered to his chest. Harry, for his part, was as overjoyed as ever. He happily wrapped his chubby fingers around two of Sirius’ and prompt tried to insert the whole thing in his mouth, drooling and chewing gummily.

And Sirius, who was notorious for not even deigning to shake hands with strangers (and on one unavoidable occasion, had actually cast a cleaning charm on his palm the moment they’d stepped back from the handshake), someone who applied three different kinds of purifying charms on anything before using it, barely even spared a glance in his direction beyond pressing a kiss to his crown.

“Well, nothing for it then,” Sirius sniffed, nose slightly in the air in a way that reminded Lily entirely too much of Narcissa Black—not that Sirius would appreciate the comparison, of course. “I’m afraid I must take my godson out and away from this dishonourable institution then.”

And in front of both the Potters’ disbelieving eyes, Sirius actually swept out of the room with their child happily lounging in his arms, neither of them looking back even once.

“James…”

He made an answering squeak, still looking at the doorway through which Harry had basically been kidnapped by an over zealous godfather.

“What just happened?”

Her only response was the sound of his head landing on the table with a thunk.

#sirius black #harry potter #james potter #good godfather sirius black #well hello there first piece of fic i’ve writtten in a while #also coincidentally first something of 2023 lol #listen this just came to me a while ago—the thought of sirius throwing a hissa fit bc james didn’t mirror call him as soon as harry did sumn #even if it’s the most irrelevant inconsequential thing ever #and that just kinda snowballed into lowkey crack scenarios #like s in the middle of a fight and picking up his mirror to talk to harry #or he’s spying on death eaters but james is calling to tell him that harry ate his first piece of solid food and sirius just has to listen #and of course tell harry he’s so very proud of him for being such a big boy #so. yknow what i mean? #it’s just rly fun lol #also now that i’m reading it over—it’s funny how sirius here is exactly like those dramatic s asks i got a while ago lol #making a big deal out of small things sort of a dude #lowkey this was so hard to write #it just felt so unnatural #i think i’ve forgotten how writing works #everything feels weird #the co wife thing is a not so sneaky reference to wife wars #~lore. if u will 😌 #pen’s writing #tumblr works

[atopvisenyashill]

let’s play a game called everyone guesses what my [dead dove don’t eat] ship is from a few clues winner gets idk a graphic. one i put effort into. a fanmix.

#akskdkdk #i just want fic recs. #asoiaf fic isn’t that good bc people didn’t write fic for a long time out of respect for george. #but i think once the show started a lot of people stopped caring about that lmao. #i get why authors don’t like fanfic but my opinion is you can’t stop it and it will only annoy people if you try. #just make it clear to fans they can’t send any to you for legal reasons and ignore it #i mean also a lot of people just have terrible takes