#PLEASE I CAN'T WRITE FOR MY LIFE

[saturnpages69]

I present the idea:

Ramshackle dorm being like Casita from Encanto, being alive and protecting Yuu/Grim in its own creaky way.

Thank you for your time.

[traumawhomst]

The Songbird

Yandere Adoptive Fae King Dad & Child Reader

Part One

King Solaris was in a foul mood, today marked three years since his youngest daughter left to go study with the Northern Sea Witch and he missed her terribly. While three years is not much long to a fae, for a father it seemed an eternity. His court was as it always was, laughter and screams, dancing and bleeding, the same faces, the same smells and he was bored of it all.

“Father,” said his eldest son, watching his father’s tail lash back and forth as he sat on his throne, “might I suggest that you might go for a walk? How long has it been since you’ve been in the crossroads? Surely better to patrol them then stay to stew in your restlessness?”

The King sighed heavily, his flame orange cape draped over the left side of the throne. “Your sister hasn’t written yet,” he said, eyes still on the writhing mass of his court in front of him. His hand moved from propping up his chin to covering his heart, “I should go and see her.”

“Father,” said the eldest son, struggling not to implore the sky herself, “She has not missed a single day of letters, we both know that it will come. Stop sitting like a house cat and find something to take your mind off it until it comes.”

The King sighed even more loudly because he knew his son was right, with a flick of his wrist his cape turned into an emerald green hunter’s jacket standing up. He turned to face his son, seeing the crowd in the reflection of his eyes. His son was taller than him now and it brought a great pride to him. “I leave you to watch til I return my son,” he said with a slight head bow.

His son fully bowed his head, laurel green curls falling past sharp black horns, his hand over his heart, “Thank you for the honor father,” he said.

Solaris couldn’t stop a soft smile thinking of the same boy he brought home all those years ago. He reached out ruffling his sons hair, laughing at the slightly annoyed look his son gave as he stood up height again.

“See you soon father,” said Callan, a touch more dry than before. The King laughed again, turning and completely disappearing from the court.

It had been a while since he’d been in the cross-lands where human and fae territory overlapped. The human area changed from time to time, no one knew where the crossroads would be, and when that would change. When he reached the other side, he found it to be in he same place it had been about fifty years, he counted the years in a tree nearby. It was an early summer day where all the birds and insects were singing together but they knew well enough that the King was not in a fair mood and so went silent in respect.

The King stalked forward hands in his pockets as his mind wandered over the state of the forest, feeling how much closer the humans had settled nearby. He could smell them, even this far away and it irked him more with each passing second. It was odd for the boarder to stay for so long, usually half the time it had been here. He hadn’t cursed a town in quite a while. It might be a good way to bring back respect the humans seemed prone to do.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a thin reedy but full hearted singing. He clicked his tongue out loud, listening closer to realize it was a human whelp that was singing.

A child should know better than to be loud when the forest is silent. Where is it’s guardian to keep it safe? Or do the humans think we so weak to not show our teeth?

It was an easy task, show himself and play with them a bit, see if they were smarter than their parents. Maybe he’d turn them to a songbird since they seemed to love their voice. A lesson to neglectful parents about teaching your child to walk around the forest alone, as if they owned it.

He did admit that the child did have a rather sweet voice, and he had thoughts of shaping them something into more than just a simple songbird, maybe one that could also speak and mimic. Something he could put in a glass birdcage and listen to when he was bored.

The child was bent over in the dirt, singing some old folk song, hair loosely back dirty and sweaty. Who knows when they last had a bath, the King scoffed internally. Their clothes not much better much too big, covered in a thick layer of dirt. It all only strengthened his resolve to turn them to a songbird they would be treated much better than they were currently.

He stepped into the forest clearing, the air around them both growing thick and wild, a smell of hot summer grass hung like a cloud. The King watched motionless with a smile as the hunched figure froze in place, smart child to know when they were outmatched, no grand heroics or disrespect. The child lifted their face, and the King was oddly pleased, it was cleaner than their hair and he could that the child had spent most of their life facing towards the sun. Their eyes looked the same as a fawn caught in the sight line of a wolf, but their mouth was turned into a hesitant smile.

The King cocked his head to the side at the child’s smile, before he could say a word the child spoke.

“Hello,” they said, their voice soft with a slight tremor but a distinct note of hope, “what’s your name?”

With those simple four words, the Solaris knew that this was to be his third child. A neglected songbird, but with a quick wit and curiosity that spoke of greater things than their tiny village. He wanted to scoop them up, and tell of all the great things they would see and do. But this was not his first time bringing a child of his own. So he smiled as he knelt to be closer to the eye-line. of the child.

“You, songbird, may call me, Solaris, may I know what you to call you songbird?”

When the child’s face brightened, any hesitation was gone, this child was his and he couldn’t wait to bring them home.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I need more Trans! Bradley in my life, please someone (who isn't me) write it, draw it, anything - I'll give you my utmost devotion in return

It can be family bonding, it can be hangster, it can be anything and I'll love and cherish it forever

[genericaces]

remembered my doomed weslah(?) post-nfa au that i can only describe as "wesley is an unofficial third to a semi-retired frunn who are now hippies in portland and also lilah is there"

wes grows a depression beard and gets really into building birdhouses. sometimes lilah, still liaison for w&h, shows up and together they're the most sexually tense couple at the farmer's market. (lilah makes him shave the beard)

obviously lilah decides that she needs to insert herself into this non-throuple in order to make wesley jealous and admit that he cares about... something. other than birdhouses.

anyways every visit inevitably ends with lilah being called back to work by the senior partners. she only gets to snag brief moments of freedom before she goes back to work, and every time wes has to say goodbye to her all over again he gets all morose and guilty about it.

and i think it's ultimately about hanging onto guilt and loss past the point where it's helpful for you because it's your last connection to someone, even though it's keeping you from living your life in the present, because on some level the idea of being happy feels like a betrayal. and trying to figure out what moving on even looks like

[bookholichany]

I actually need a scene with Dream and Edwin meeting and Dream saying he remembers Edwin as a child who spent hours with Lucien around the dreaming library. And he would say so in an unnaturally soft voice because deep down the young ghost reminds him of his Orpheus.

[put-a-keep-are-you-foo-dell]

Funny Jhea thought based off of some fun facts that I found out: Rhea likes pineapple on pizza. Jey hates pineapple on pizza but DOES like mayonnaise on pizza.

Right?? they are sooo for each other with their weird taste💜💙

Someone has to write them arguing about food it would be so cute and funny

Like something about they eating their weird ass pizza arguing about what is better and Damian on the side being disgusted

[foxett]

Swingset finished designs (these apply from chapter 14 onward)

[lyralit]

show don't tell (and how to apply it)

I know I write about this a lot, and maybe I should elaborate a little. "show, don't tell"—use description in your writing, rather than saying it outright. and I think the difference is, really, for the reader: whether they are in the story, or outside of it.

you know what we read for: to escape, to find a new world. but would you rather truly live the adventure, or skim through texts about it?

here it is, simply.

showing - describing, telling things to the reader without saying them outright.

telling - showing something to the reader without any fancy words.

and doing this, it makes the characters more real. tangible, not a fantasy.

but they don't need to be all the time. so when do you use it? an easy way could be to write it all out, the way you intend it to be. do you see the world felt, or a variation of it, scattered throughout the writing? try swapping out how they feel with description that shows the reader it. do you use adjectives such as "pretty", or "big"? they're variable in different situations. use metaphors, similes, to show us that's its' pretty.

and then send your writing to someone. to a friend, to a relative, for anyone but yourself to read it. you want them to think "oh, that's pretty", rather than you tell them, because how would they know? if they understand you intention, and if they feel something, you know you must be doing something right.

*though with all writing advice, I should say this doesn't apply to everyone! writing advice is advice, and that's all it is. excellent writers get by without applying this, and they get by with using this.

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the witch.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[nostalgia-tblr]

"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.

[greenerteacups]

Hi! I am an ardent fan of your writing, and I hope to be as sorted and planned as you some day in my own writing journey.

My question is: you have a keen eye when it comes to planning character personality, dynamics, and such. I've also been wading through your ask replies, and your insights into how you write people and how you make them play off of each other is so wonderful to read. If it's not too personal a q, how did you learn how to write like this? Did you go to school for writing, does it come from years of observing people, do you have reading list recs for "how to write real people and real interactions"?

Thanks! This is a really flattering question. I'll try to answer it honestly, because I wish someone had been brutally honest about this with me when I was a young writer.

I didn't go to school for writing. I started doing it when I was about nine years old. It sucked very badly. I kept writing throughout high school, and it still mostly sucked, but some of it was occasionally interesting. ("Interesting" here does not mean "good," by the way.) I took a break in college, and then came back. I've been writing ever since. Sometimes, I feel good about it. A lot of the time, I don't!

I hate giving this advice, because I remember how it feels to get it, and it's the most uninspiring, boring-ass, dog shit advice you can get, but it's also the only advice that is 100% unequivocally true: you have to write, and specifically, you have to write things that suck.

I do not mean that you should make things that suck on purpose. I mean that you have to sit down and try your absolute hardest to make something good. You have to put in the hours, the elbow grease, the blood, sweat, and tears, and then you have to read it over and accept that it just totally sucks. There is no way around this, and you should be wary of people who tell you there is. There is no trick, no rule, no book you can buy or article you can read, that will make your writing not suck. The best someone else can do is tell you what good writing looks like, and chances are, you knew that anyway — after all, you love to read. You wouldn't be trying to do this if you didn't. And anyone who says they can teach you to write so good it doesn't suck at first is either lying to you, or they have forgotten how they learned to write in the first place.

So the trick is to sit there in the miserable doldrums of Suck, write a ton, and learn to like it. Because this is the phase of your path as an artist when you find what it is you love about writing, and it cannot be the chance to make "good writing." This will be the thing that bears you through and compels you to keep going when your writing is shit, i.e., the very thing that makes you a writer in the first place. So find that, and you've got a good start.

Some people know this, but assume that perseverance as a writer is about trying to get to the point where you don't suck anymore. This is not true, and it is an actively dangerous lie to tell young writers. You are not aiming to feel like your writing doesn't suck. You are aiming to write. You are aiming to have written. Everything else is dust and rust. And of course, you'll find things you like about your pieces, you'll find things you're proud of, you'll learn to love the things you've made. But that little itch of self-criticism, in the back of your brain — the one that cringes when you read a clunky line, or thinks of a better character beat right after it's far too late to change — that's never going away. That's the Writer part of you. Read Kafka, read Dickens, read Tolstoy, you will find diary entries where they lament how absolutely fucking atrocious their writing was, and how angry they are that they can't do better. A good writer hates their sentences because they can always imagine better ones. And the ability to imagine a better sentence is what's going to make you pick up the pen again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Which is what I mean, and probably what all those other annoying, preachy advice-givers mean, when we say: a good writer is just someone who writes every day. It's that easy, and that hard.

[beanghostprincess]

it wouldn't surprise me that, despite sanji being the literal cook of the crew, he had an eating disorder (ofc trigger warning here for eds, child abuse, starvation and, y'know, sanji's background in general).

he experienced the most traumatic years of his life trapped inside a fucking cell, with a metal helmet around his head and only eating when his father let him. which was 'only when the kid needs it', probably. which leads to judge saying 'i couldn't even kill my son' and it can translate to 'at least i kept you alive'. and not to turn this into irl trauma, but abusive parents constantly use the 'keeping you alive and giving you food' excuse (the bare fucking minimum) to guilt trip you into thinking that they're good and that you're exaggerating how bad they treated you because, well, at least they kept you alive, didn't they?

so here, sanji sees food as a form of loving but in the sense of 'at least my dad didn't kill me. that's something'. so his vision towards food remains positive but only because of his mom. only because his love language is acts of service and his mom took everything he gave her, even if it was horrific, as a way of saying 'i love all of you. you're perfect because you tried and the fact that you brought me your food is enough to make me feel loved. you're not a mistake' despite his brothers and his father saying that he was, indeed, a mistake and weak for wanting to give food to others instead of just taking it for himself.

both ideas of 'someone who loves you wouldn't let you starve' and 'offering food to others is opening up your heart' coexist inside little sanji's brain.

so it wouldn't be crazy to think that, although sanji loves cooking and his best early memories of it are that book that kept him dreaming while he was locked up, and his mom's words, has a hard time eating food.

besides, sanji is used to giving, not taking. he's not selfish, but actually extremely generous to the point of forgetting about his own well-being. i don't think he actually thinks about how hungry he is until it hurts. until he needs it. he only ate whenever his father let him so he wouldn't starve, and the only thing that made him feel well about food was the fact that he could give it to the one he loved and needed it.

sanji doesn't have good experiences eating food, but only cooking it. it's a great representation of his personality as a whole, to be honest.

then the whole zeff thing happens, and he actually almost starves to death and learns what hunger feels like. but once again, zeff saves him and he's the one to be hungry for not letting the kid starve. which might seem similar to what judge did, but 'not letting you starve because i couldn't kill you' isn't the same as 'not letting you starve because i don't want you to die'. sanji learns the difference that day.

he didn't know somebody could be that kind. especially to him, someone who doesn't deserve it (he thinks he doesn't) because, in his house, love only came when you earned it.

and, you know, sanji's like that. sanji's selfless. sanji does everything for others. and so the guilt eats him up first. what zeff did is beautiful and amazing and we love him for it, but we don't know about how that affected sanji at a young age. which only makes him even more selfless and more of a better, kinder, generous person. and that might be bad, considering how little he thinks about himself already-

he learns that throwing away food is awful, and that you have to be grateful for being able to eat. grateful for living. so his don't-waste-food policy is obviously a big part of his personality due to almost dying of starvation and also owing his life to his dad (zeff, the real one, of course. fuck judge).

but that can almost be dangerous because refusing to waste food leads to forcing yourself to eat only because of his concept of what food means.

and then we have luffy in wci saying the whole 'i won't eat anything that you haven't cooked' which is precious and something very beautiful to say to your cook, but that only brings sanji back to 'starving is a form of loving' and 'you can't let someone you love starve'. and no matter how much he wants to force himself to push luffy away, he gives him food because he knows his captain will keep his promise.

sanji feels guilty, once again, but he ends up fixing it.

the thing is, after everything i've said, i don't think it would be weird to think about sanji viewing food as something external. something that isn't for himself. something that he only has control over because it's for others and not for himself, and it's a concept, a form of love, and not a need. because he does not feel hungry. when it comes to food, he feels responsibility and guilt and love... but never hunger.

hunger is, by all means, a form of selfishness sanji isn't used to unless his body is about to give up completely. he can eat out of pleasure and satisfaction and love for food, but he does it to train a selfless skill that may or may not also be selfish in the sense of 'wanting to be loved and useful'.

so here we have:

seeing food as a form of love because at least his dad wouldn't let him die, but he probably learned to push away the concept of hunger

seeing cooking as the most beautiful way of showing your feelings and efforts and taking care of people

not knowing the concept of hunger due to his own selflessness

scratch the first one, actually starving for others is a form of loving. he will never let the people he loves starve even if it means he dies in the process.

he can't waste food because that would be insulting and disrespectful. no matter the context.

and i'm just saying (and this whole thing is extremely self-indulgent and me projecting again and again) that it wouldn't be surprising to me if he had some issues when it comes to eating and making food for himself.

it's not that he thinks he doesn't deserve food, it's just the thought that he doesn't need it. going back to his past it could be seeing hunger as a form of weakness (not when it comes to others. never when it comes to others), both because of what his family taught him men should be like, and the fact that the manliest man he knows used starvation as a form of love.

so it's seeing hunger as something that makes you weak, but only when it comes to himself because of course, he wouldn't apply the same rules for him as for everyone else. he's just like that.

he thinks about others first, and himself second. always second. and the thought of eating and needing it only comes when it's too much. and when that time comes, the voices in his head tell him that he's weak. and again, i don't think he sees himself as undeserving of food because he has this whole thing about everybody deserving to eat. but he has never played with the same rules as the rest, always a few steps behind, so if he can't fight the thoughts in his head contradicting his morals, that's just how he is.

not to mention the 'don't waste food' part which also would make him feel guilty about not being able to eat if the thoughts of not deserving food and being weak for needing to eat become too much. he can't eat because he doesn't deserve it and because he's weak. and he can't starve, because that would mean wasting food.

so, you know, sanji is out of options here.

if some days sanji just casually decides not to eat- forgets to prepare himself a meal while his crew enjoys his food... that's just the way he is, isn't it? and if he lies about it, it's just another form of love, keeping them away from his problems.

besides, controlling hunger and controlling food is the only way he has to take control of his messy life. when something is out of reach, the unstoppable thing called life he has never been able to control, at least he can choose not to eat. he can choose to starve, this time, with the comfort of knowing he won't. he can choose not to eat this time, not like all of those times when food was controlling him instead.

at least the strawhats will never, ever, starve if he's around. but of course, nobody thinks about asking the cook if he wants to eat. that would be absurd. and it's impossible to think sanji would have some sort of issue with it! sanji, the cook, who keeps telling them not to waste food, not eating? that would be absurd and too selfless to make sense.

that's just the way he is.

[resident-gay-bitch]

*looks at you with big wet eyes* transfem sirius hcs please🥺also what do you think her fashion sense is like

*looks at you right back with even bigger wet eyes* HIIIII! Im so sorry for getting back to you so late, please forgive me, I've been very busy and didn't even notice I had this ask

⭐️ Sirius Sundays ⭐️

Here are my transfem Sirius headcannons! (I love her so much), (I hope you don't mind that I included this in my Sirius Sunday thing);

Her style:

I think it probably wouldn't stray too far from what she'd already wear pre transition; for wizards skirts and dresses aren't that far off from robes so styles of clothing wouldn't really feel too different for her.

In terms of muggle clothing style specifically she'd still wear a lot of boot cut jeans and bell bottoms, a lot of band shirts and her leather jacket, she'd probably just style them a little differently, now with things in her hair, more jewellery and makeup and stuff.

However, I do also think she would raid Lily, Mary, and Marlenes wardrobes to find things that she likes. I think once Sirius came out, the girls would have basically adopted her as their protégé, teaching her anything and everything she wants to know about girlhood.

I think she'd like Mary's wardrobe best, I always hc Mary as a very fashionable person who likes to experiment and be bold with her outfits, and Sirius would love the sparkly dresses and bold colours stuffed into her wardrobe, and she'd have the best time trying everything on and doing a little fashion show for her friends.

I think as well she would wear a lot of skirts. She'd like the way they feel, how flowy they are and how cute they look, and they help her pass better in the beginnings of her transition, and also she knows she's got amazing legs so she doesn't mind showing them off a bit (showing them off to one specific person, more like).

I think, even though she'd try to pass more with typically "feminine colours", blue would be her best colour. Pretty shades of dark iridescence and periwinkles as well, she'd have lots of dresses, skirts, and coats in various shades of blue, and they'd always make her feel most pretty and feminine. Especially some blue eyeshadow or eyeliner. James would call her new penchant for blue a betrayal and tell her to go join Ravenclaw for being such a traitor (and then secretly tell her she's pretty and looks great at the same time).

Tall girls being even taller in high heels is a weekness of mine, and if I knew Sirius in real life, she'd abuse that weakness. I think anytime theres a party or a fancy event on, she'd put a pair of high heels on. They'd make her feel so pretty and feminine, and she'd be so tall. At first she refused to wear any shoe that wasn't flat on the foot because "girls are meant to be shorter than guys, right?" but then everyone told her that was stupid and peer pressured her into a high heels, and made sure she felt amazing in them.

In public, Sirius is very amendment on passing. She's done her research and always wears the most feminine clothing in muggle areas, wears the girls uniform to school, puts on eyeliner and lipstick, pitches her voice up, etc etc, and it's very important to her that she passess. With her friends she relaxes a little, when it's just them in a private area (esp just the marauders because they've seen the most over her over the years and she knows they don't really care), but she still pitches her voice up and wears typically feminine "colours" or "clothing". However, when with James or at home with just the Potters, she doesn't try at all; she'll often use her natrual voice, doesn't ever try to tuck or wear anything really feminine unless she just feels like doing so, she'll let her stubble come in from time to time even, until annoys her, and they never make her feel bad for it. James still calls her gorgeous every day, and Effie and Flea still call her their daughter. They make her feel extremely comfortable.

I think she'd love wearing her hair in double plaits, she'd look so cute like that and she likes how feminine it is, and it would also make her feel like the little girl inside her is coming alive, because all through the first and second years of school, all the girls in their year would have worn double plaits to class. So not only would it be cool and cute, it would be a way for her to feel like she's experiencing the girlhood she missed out on when she was younger. (Maybe James learnt how to braid so he could do it for her before bed if she's tired, and in the mornings so she could do her makeup and stuff at the same time so they wouldn't be late to work / class)

I also think she'd go through a phase where she'd grow her hair as long as possible just to see how long she can get it. Her record is just past her arse and she's very proud of it.

She'd love playing around and experimenting with hairstyles as well. She'd 100% go through bad phases of strange styles and all of her friends just have to grin and bear it, because if a very high side pony is what makes her feel best this week, than they're not going to crush her soul, they know she'll grow out of it soon enough. She does have taste afterall.

She'd get so pissed off about the lack of pockets in everything when she starts shopping for muggle womens clothes, and you know the minuet she finds a dress with pockets she'd show it off to everyone. She'd get so excited and wear the dress for like a month straight, no fucks given, only pockets.

She'd practice makeup looks on the Marauders all the time. James is her most willing model, of course, he'd let her do anything she wanted, but sometimes she'd want to practice on someone with a similar complexion to her, or with a different eye or lip shape or whatever, or sometimes if James isn't around to model. She'd wrangle Remus and Pete into getting their makeup done by her, and they argue the whole time even though they secretly enjoyed it a lot.

Before she came out to Effie and Flea - maybe especially if she was still living at 12GWP at the time she figured it out - and she started experimenting with her gender to figure it out, she wanted to try womens underwear and stuff, but she didn't want to be seen / caught buying it when she was still perceived as a bloke, so she made a bunch herself. She cut her breifs into knickers shape and made makeshift braletts out of old shirts and pyjamas (she had to learn how to sew for this too), and one day Effie or Flea came along to do her washing and found all the janky looking underwear and just went to her like "right, good effort darling but I'm taking you shopping for some real undergarments that actually fits you properly an doesn't look like it went through a blender".

Hc's about her transition;

I feel like she only figured out she was trans later in life, probably after she ran away to the Potters and started to really work on becoming her best self, or possibly just figured it out right before she ran away, and that was the kind of final reason to do it because she knew she had a better chance of acceptance with them <3

I am a tall Sirius truther till the day I die, so obviously she'd be a very very tall woman and this would make Marlene very jealous, and she'd constantly tease Marlene for being so short.

You already know that James is the first person she told, and if this is all happening in the 70s/80s, he probably would have been a little confused by the concept at first and didn't understand it at all. He would have never heard of transexuality and people swapping genders, but he would have still accepted her immediately. He would have asked so many questions, not only to make sure he was doing all the right things to make sure Sirius felt comfortable, proud, and happy throughout her transition, but also because he was extremely curious. He would have done a lot of research for her. (If Sirius wants something, Sirius gets it, so if she wants to be called she and a woman now, James is going to give 110% effort).

All of her friends have had a crush on her at one point, no matter their sexuality (eg pre transition + post), and she's pretty indifferent to people having feelings or attraction towards her, doesn't really care about it at all, but she does like to brag about it with her friends. And she loves to hold it over their heads lol.

I think if she came out whilst still in Hogwarts, she would have just gaslit everyone into thinking she was never a bloke. She'd get all her friends in on it, along with McGonagall of course, and anytime someone asked why she was wearing the girls uniform everyone would just be like "she's a girl wtf are you going on about? no, she was never a bloke, do you need me to take you to the sick wing?"

I think as well, after she came out, she would have gotten a lot closer with the girls. She'd love the way that girls all talk to each other, she'd love the constant drama and gossip, and she'd love how in touch and normal they are about their own emotions. Of course, Sirius has always felt she can talk to James about everything, and she does, but she likes how she can have deeper conversations more casually with the girls and in a group setting and stuff. She'd love how they always immediately validate her feelings and give her proper good advice and can relate to her problems in their own ways. But James would get extremely jealous of this and always try to intervene on girls night - it would never work, but Sirius promised to give him the best gossip when she gets home.

Back to Sirius being drop dead gorgeous, I think after she came out all the blokes on like the quidditch team and in their year would start fancying her, hoping to get a shag or whatever, and would constantly talk to James about it (they'd especially be asking if James and Sirius are actually together now that she's a girl because they're that close, James never gives them a real answer, just tells them Sirius isn't interested), and of course James would tell her all of this. They'd think it's so funny, but it's also strange because suddenly all of Sirius casual mates and quidditch team want a shag with her and it's weird. Again she's indifferent to it, has no interested in any of their advances, but it is odd when all the blokes who used to call her "a good lad" and would crudely talk about girls in the locker room around her, are now interested in her.

I think she'd love taking photos throughout her transition to track her progress. So then on days she feels like shit she can look back through them and see how much she's grown and feel as beautiful as she is again.

Thank you for the ask, I really love receiving them! I had a lot of fun compiling this list actually, I haven't written out all my transfem Sirius hc's before. I really love her so much and she deserves some more recognition tbh. She's the best. :P

[mrsfitzgerald]

[goatcheese-anon]

Urgent thing I need to share before my ADHD brain forgets:

Harry Potter Post-war Breaking Bad AU:

Snape survived, but since Voldemort is dead, the Dark Marks are slowly killing all the remaining Death Eaters, something Voldy did as a failsafe. And like, let's take into consideration that Harry is quite literally a War Veteran and has some tremendous PTSD, and he probably doesn't know how to cope, and now starts taking Muggle drugs.

So now we have the slowly-dying-'chemistry' -Professor and the horrible-at-'chemistry' -ex-student-now-junky.

The motive for Snape to start making that stuff is still a bit wonky, but it would probably be to leave something for Hogwarts.. Or for his godson Draco.. Yk,,

Anyhow, let's assume he has a motive to do this for now. Maybe he wanted to visit Harry for old times sake, since yk their history and all, and he ends up discovering that Harry became an addict to a Muggle drug.

You know the drill. Lots of discouragement and fighting, until Snape, who is admittedly a bit impressed that Harry was able to make that stuff in the first place, gives in and makes a magical equivalent. Now, that's where the whole fun begins.

I didn't even think about it until now, but it would 100% result in Severitus.

I'm just imagining the two of them sitting in an old Muggle Camper-van, Snape with a cauldron instead of Muggle chemistry equipment, complaining about the size of the thing when it could be magically enhanced, Harry, who keeps telling him that it's more convenient that way in case someone's after them so they'll reach the steering wheel faster.. And the best part is the magical elements in this story. Police AND Aurors would be after them, Kingpins like Tuco Salamanca or Gus Fring could also be Wizards (Gus as a Wizard would GENUINELY be terrifying.), and the whole thing overall would be so much more exciting.

The Weasleys would 100% help Harry sell the stuff.

Anyhow, this concludes this madness for now.

[gay-mooshrooms]

I fear to stain your clothes with blood/Stain them. I don't care

Chapter 1

Look.

Maybe Wilbur didn't love going to camp.

Maybe he would whine, and complain, and annoy the crap out of Phil and Techno on the 3-hour car ride.

But! 

That did not mean he hated it. 

Sure it was far from the most enjoyable experience in the world. 

But sue him, the kids gave him some small shred of hope for humanity that he was oh so desperately lacking. 

It also helped that Tommy adored Camp Essempi. He had practically grown up there, been tagging along every summer since he was 7 after Phil bought the place. 

So now Wilbur found himself in his dad's grey van, listening to The Artic Monkeys at a very unhealthy volume, while he could see Techno gesturing in the seat in front of him. 

If he had to guess, Tech was probably monologuing about some new book he read or what he was planning for the campers or something.

Wilbur didn't really care. 

Tommy was directly next to him, and his head was now resting on his shoulder, where it had been slowly creeping toward for the past hour, in spite of him claiming, "Fuck you Wil! I'm not tired at all bitch!"

They really needed to work on his swearing problem.

But that was for another day. 

Right now Wilbur had to worry about how to stay sane with 2 more hours left on this car trip.

He debated trying to read a book he brought but considering the last time he'd tried reading a book in the car they'd had to pull over so he could throw up, he decided not to risk it. 

Listen to Techno rant? Wilbur thinks he'd rather take the vomit at that point.

He eventually just decides to take the easy way out. 

Turning his music down slightly, he lays his head on top of Tommy's, stretching the blanket he'd been hogging across them both, and letting his eyes shut. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time he woke up, they were only 30 minutes away from camp, and Tommy was still dead to the world. 

Techno had fallen asleep at this point too, his head lolling so his long hair fell over the edge of the car seat.

How he lived with it that long Wilbur would never know. 

He removed one of his earbuds and was met with the soft sound of Here Comes the Sun drifting from the radio, Phil humming along quietly. 

A few seconds later, his dad looked up and saw him awake. 

"Oh Wil!" Phil said, smiling, "Didn't see that you were up. We stopped at McDonald's about 15 minutes ago and got some fries for you, figured you'd be hungry."

Wilbur immediately brightened and maybe grabby hands at his father. 

"Gimme food," he said, with all the eloquence of a toddler. 

Phil chuckled and handed over the brown paper bag. 

"Save some for Tommy, you know he'll be starving when he wakes up, and who knows what that will entail."

Wilbur nodded solemnly, suddenly reminded of the last long car trip they'd taken. 

A few minutes into starting on the fries, he felt Tommy stir beside him. 

"Ugh, do I smell food?" Tommy asked, his voice slightly hoarse. 

"Always hungry never satisfied," said Wilbur, which was not entirely inaccurate. Tommy ate like a fiend. 

"Ey!" Tommy blurted out, his head immediately shooting up and his hands raising. "Just cus you're as small as a twig doesn't mean I have to be. Plus I heard Niki's running some of the sports stuff and I am NOT doing that on an empty stomach."

Wilbur had to give him that, Niki, one of his old camp friends and now first-year counselor, was one of the nicest people he'd ever met, but also incredibly badass. 

She'd been one of Techno's favorite campers, and he, in turn, had been her favorite counselor, which meant she was an expert in most combat-based camp stuff. 

She terrified Wilbur and Tommy alike. 

Techno too, but he would only admit that to her.

"Fine fine gremlin child take your food," huffed Wilbur, handing over the bag.

Tommy grinned evilly up at him and began shoveling the food into his mouth like an animal, a raccoon perhaps. Or maybe a possum. 

Wilbur couldn't help but grimace and turn his attention back towards his older brother and father, who, now that Techno had woken up too, were discussing camp setup. 

"Listen, Phil," one of Techno's quirks, he almost never called Phil dad. "We have more campers this year, we're gonna need to buy some more stuff."

Phil shook his head, "It'll be fine Tech. And if not, we'll go out and get stuff. And anyway, it's not so much supplies I'm worried about but space. I think we'll have to raid some of the unused cabins for cots. The last thing I wanna do is force kids to sleep on the floor, "said Phil, chuckling. 

"It would be good for them, " Wilbur chimed in, "Builds character."

Phil laughed. 

"C'mon Wil, let's not give them scoliosis too early on in the summer."

"As I just stated, character building."

"Wilbur I swear to god."

The last 20 minutes of the drive were spent bickering about random topics or singing along to Hamilton.

The latter was, of course, Wilbur's request. 

But Tommy joined in too. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sudden sound of crunching gravel alerted Wilbur to their imminent arrival at Essempi, a sound that bore equal parts joy and pain in his mind. 

It was at this point Tommy began bouncing off the walls, it was honestly a miracle he's lasted this long.

Usually about 2 hours in they had to stop for 15 minutes and just putter around a gas station.

Fortunately, Tommy had stayed up late last night with Wilbur, going over rules and his luggage over and over again to make sure he didn't forget anything. 

But once rested, Tommy's energy made a full recovery, and as soon as they had gotten their luggage out of the car he was full-on sprinting towards their cabin. 

Wilbur however, did not not follow so eagerly. 

Unlike Tommy, car trips didn't make him stir crazy, but rather tired, lethargic, and dead on his feet.

So, grumbling, he hoisted his backpack over his shoulders and grabbed his duffle, before trudging down the path behind his little brother. 

It didn't take long for his dad and Techno to catch up, his older brother giving him a small pat on his shoulder before moving past. 

Phil on the other hand, fell into stride alongside Wilbur and started humming Dear Theodosia, one of his favorites. 

"How are you feeling Wil?"

The words startled him, he hadn't exactly been expecting conversation. 

"Uh, fine?" he said, with a slight question in his tone. 

"I mean, a bit tired but nothing horrible."

Phil nodded, "OK. Just let us know if you need anything."

Wilbur couldn't help the small sigh that escaped him. 

He understood that his dad meant well. That he genuinely cared and wanted to help. But this was not what Wilbur needed. 

He never did well at the whole talking about your feelings thing. That was definitely Phil's department, and something he always encouraged in his kids. But somehow Wilbur never got the hand of that particular skill.

He didn't think any of them did really.

But he didn't say this, or anything remotely similar. 

Instead, he just nodded and said softly, "Alright, thanks dad."

Phil smiled, laid a hand on Wilbur's shoulder, gave a small squeeze, and then he was gone. 

Wilbur paused for a second, looking around at the slowly darkening sky, where the first glimpses of stars were visible.

He glanced at the trees, shaking in the slight breeze that was making him glad he wore a hoodie.

And finally, he looked back down the path, where beams of warm light could now be seen.

Wilbur took a deep inhale, readjusted his bag, and continued walking.

It was gonna be a long couple of months.