#or doom him extra that would be funny

[wizard-enthusiast]

someone undoom this man’s narrative and give him some warm soup

[babyleostuff]

svt without their goodnight kiss | ot13

𐙚🧸ྀི choi seungcheol

this baby (29 year old man) would not be having it. he swears he needs his goodnight kiss to fall asleep, so not getting one is a big no no. at first he’d try to be all „okay, whatever, if they don’t want to give me my goodnight kiss then so be it” (stumps his feet). yeah, gives up on that after ten seconds. cheol would then try to pull you even closer to his body (as if that was possible), to gently remind you that „baby, what about my kiss?”

𐙚🧸ྀི yoon jeonghan

i think it depends on the day for hannie. if he’s having more of a „yoon menace jeonghan” day, he’s going to wake you up, and stare at you with a blank expression and pursed lips, waiting for his kiss. if he’s having more of a „hannie” day, there’s NO way he’s waking you up. the only think he does is tucks you in even better, wrapping you up in the blankets, thus making you look like a lil burrito.

𐙚🧸ྀི joshua hong

not going to lie - he’d be a bit upset about not getting his goodnight kiss. he may not be the most outwardly affectionate person out there, but he still loves getting his kisses, especially before bed. if he saw you already asleep there’s no way he’d wake you up, but if you were still kind of awake, shua would try to find a way to get his kiss after all (would probably take way to long to come up with a plan, and you’d end up falling asleep).

𐙚🧸ྀི wen junhui

please don’t forget about jun’s goodnight kiss, he turns into a sad pookie without one :(((( he cherishes your affection SO much (even though he’s not the one to actually initiate it, trust me: he loves it). and so not getting his lil kisses before sleep is a big deal for jun, because how is he supposed to fall asleep without them? in conclusion - you forgetting goodnight kisses = sad jun (and that would be a sad jun for the whole night because there is no way he’d remind you about the kisses).

𐙚🧸ྀི kwon soonyoung

worry not - soonyoung is going to smother you in kisses if you forget. sleeping or not, he will give you a kiss (ten of them) (though if you’re actually asleep, he’s much more gentle). whether he’s the one to get kissed or if he’s the one to give the kiss, hoshi has to share some of his affection before bed. he just wants you to know that he loves you (there’s a small chance he’d be a bit sulky in the morning because of the lack of his goodnight kiss)

𐙚🧸ྀི jeon wonwoo

it’s funny because whenever he forgets about giving you your goodnight kiss, and you complain about it in the morning he’s all like 🙄 BUT when it’s you not giving him his kiss he turns into a pouty babie (in sad font). wonwoo is too shy to ask you for the kiss, so if you forget he’s doomed to a sleepless night (not actually, but he likes being dramatic like that) (his goodnight kiss is really important for him).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee jihoon

our jihoon, leader of the „i hate love affection” squad. whenever people asks him how he feels about stereotypical relationship stuff, he’s kind of like :/// okay, sure - then why are you all pouty if you don’t get your goodnight kiss, woozi? thank god you’re already sleep so you can’t see his adorable pout (he wouldn’t be able to bare your teasing), but really? you forgot about the kiss? (👉🏼👈🏼). to make himself even more miserable he doesn’t wake you up (that comes more from the fact that he wants you to actually sleep, he knows that there’s no point in waking you up).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee seokmin

what do you mean no kiss??? but how is he supposed to fall asleep now??? hello??? why do you want him to suffer??? he clings to you extra tightly, so even if you are already sleep, his extra tight hug wakes you up (after that it’s not hard to figure out the reason for his extra clinginess) (as if the pout didn’t tell you everything you needed to know). seokmin feels kind of bad for waking you up, but after you kiss him (and he kisses you back), you’re able to quickly fall asleep together this time.

𐙚🧸ྀི kim mingyu

has no shame (and he really needs his goodnight kiss), so he just manhandles you so he can properly see your face, and stares at you (gyu makes those comically big eyes since it’s dark, and there is a 99% chance you can’t see them anyway), and waits till you get what he wants. if you don’t (because you’re probably too tired to understand his antics), he just plainly says „goodnight kiss”, and taps his lips.

𐙚🧸ྀི xu minghao

wouldn’t be overly dramatic about not getting the kiss, because that would just mean he’d be the one to give you one :))) (or two) (or many more). of course he adores getting his goodnight kisses from you, but i honestly think he loves it even more when he’s the one to shower you in affection. hao is not the biggest on physical touch, but something about the nighttime, and you both being in bed that makes him more expressive with his affection.

𐙚🧸ྀི boo seungkwan

huh, the audacity you have to forget about his goodnight kiss. for the first five minutes boo just lays in bed slightly angry at you that you dared to forget about it (because come on - he has to have his kiss kiss), but then a bigger problem arises. how the hell is he supposed to fall asleep without it? and so he spends the next few minutes looking up at the ceiling, and wondering how he was able to fall asleep before he met you (he came to the conclusion that it was impossible, sleep didn’t exist before you) (he managed to fall asleep anyway) (and obviously he asked you the next morning why you didn’t kiss him) (turns out you were so tired you simply forgot)

𐙚🧸ྀི vernon chwe

actually quite happy about it because it means he can give you a goodnight kiss. maybe you were too tired, maybe you just didn’t feel like kissing him that night - it didn’t matter, it was the perfect moment for vernon to be a bit clingier for once. yes, he loves your pre bedtime kisses, but being the one giving you those feels so good as well (and usually he’s just too shy to be the one to give the goodnight kiss) (he also knows how happy it makes you to kiss him goodnight so he usually doesn’t have the heart to be the one to initiate them).

𐙚🧸ྀི lee chan

very sad, very heartbroken, very much unable to sleep. chan is a lil romantic, and he loves your little routine of giving and receiving goodnight kisses, so he’s not really surprised about feeling so upset. yes, he understands that you’re tired, and probably just fell asleep before you were able to give him one, but… at least one kiss, please? but chan wouldn’t do anything about it. as much as he’s heartbroken about a kiss-less night, he would never wake you up or disturb your sleep just for a kiss (would make sure to ask for extra good morning kisses) (and would hold you extra tight that night to make up for the lack of kisses)

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[sleepyorchidmonster]

Funny how Leona always goes on about how "You kids have promise while I'm doomed fron the start, I've already given up on myself a long time ago".

And the main thing he had to say about Riddle wanting to stay in his dream was how he didn't want such a powerful and brilliant student to just wither away.

Also how Leona considers himself "the hated second prince" and the main thing keeping Riddle in the dream was how he was sure everyone actually hated him in real life (meanwhile Heartslabyul literally fighting tooth and nail to save him from the dream, the overblot, his mom).

Also did Leona literally call Riddle the second strongest mage??? Or did I get the translation wrong??? Like, I know Riddle is powerful, but I was so sure Leona and Lillia would be the next students after Malleus (then again, Riddle is younger than all of them and trains his magic almost 24/7).

Also liked Leona's comment about how he doesn't know the situation, because the characters really don't. All they know is the Tart incident and Riddle's mom having a bad temper, plus some other extra bits of information and whatever you can glean from Riddle's dream (which, considering the disembodied voice of Mrs. Rosehearts, the whole house being a trap for Riddle, and Riddle just deciding to change his whole personality and backstory, does not paint a great picture) but it's not like us players, that can actually see from the overblotter's point of view. It's a great reminder, and I love how it's brought up right before the final fight too!

Now just watch post-Book 7 Riddle make an off-handed comment about a "funny childhood story" and half the cast starts trading concerned glances, piecing together an even worse story.

[abby-s-phillips]

Fangirl

Boyfriend!Hawks x Reader

Summary: You had been a Hawks fangirl for as long as you could remember. You certainly never expected to be dating the #2 Pro Hero. What happens when he finds out your secret?

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 631

You were sprawled across Keigo's couch, waiting for him to get home. Which naturally, meant doom scrolling through your TikTok account. Because Keigo wasn't home, you knew it was the perfect opportunity to safely to check your Hawks fan page.

It was silly, really. Hawks had been your favorite Pro Hero since he made his debut, and you had started the fan page a few years back as a fun hobby. You had never dreamed that you would actually be dating Hawks. But now? Your account had amassed over 1 million followers. You couldn't just delete it. You had to give the people what they wanted.

You open your For You Page, and as expected, you are immediately flooded with Hawks edits. You watch an especially good one—a clip of him emerging from some rubble, feathers falling in front of his face. You couldn't help but giggle, because little did they know. Hawks could control every one of his feathers, and he would sometimes do the whole 'falling feather' bit just to be dramatic when he knew the cameras were rolling.

Then, there were the Hawks hater pages. You didn't like to admit it, but you were a little bit of a keyboard warrior. Someone comes after Hawks? You are in their comments, making them regret their existence. Especially now, considering he was your boyfriend (although you kept your identity carefully hidden).

You scroll through a few more edits, giggling and reposting. You're so caught up in what you were doing that you don't even notice Keigo walk in.

"Having fun over there?" he gives you a lazy smirk, leaning against the door frame.

You startle slightly, and you quickly try to shove your phone under a pillow. Wrong move. Within a matter of seconds, Keigo snatches up your phone is on the other side of the room in one, swift movement.

"Hey! Give it back!" you lunge at him, but he holds the phone out of your reach.

"What's this?" he asks teasingly, and then you see his eyes widen in shock. Once the realization sets in, a grin spreads from ear to ear.

"Hawks In HD? This is you?" he asks, looking far too smug as he turns the screen towards you.

"Keigo—" you groan, your face already heating up.

"Oh this is gold, baby bird," he chuckles, "Who knew you were such a fangirl?"

"It's not funny!" you whine, still trying to grab the phone from his hands.

"Oh I beg to differ," he laughs, his eyes darting across the screen again, "He could throw me off a rooftop and I would thank him? Damn. That's some next-level dedication."

You launch a pillow at him.

"Woah, no need to get violent," he cackles, putting his hands up in mock innocence, "I'm flattered that you go to bat for me too."

"Although...tsk tsk, baby bird," he ruffles your hair, "You probably shouldn't threaten to dox people just for insulting my outfit."

"Wasn't gonna actually do it..." you grumble quietly.

Keigo plops down next to you on the couch, the smirk never leaving his face.

"My girlfriend...the owner of my #1 fan page," he sighs, setting your phone on the coffee table, "I should have known with all those 'exclusive' photos."

"I hate you," you mutter flatly.

"Nah," he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him, "Clearly you love me."

You groan, but you hug him back.

"And hey," he winks, "If you ever want to shoot some more 'exclusive' content, just let me know. Gotta give the fans what they want, right?"

He flexes his arms and puffs out his wings a little extra.

"You're ridiculous," you flick him on the head, but you can't help but laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

[its-avalon-08]

hey can you write that Carlos Sainz is his wife Y/N (she is also Spanish) are nicknamed the couple the funny ones in the paddock because they often play pranks on each other on TikTok and they often tease each other because they have the same personality as it's their humor and that they are both tactile

glitter and lucky socks

the air in imola crackled with nervous energy, race day for the emilia romagna grand prix. but amidst the tension, a familiar giggle echoed through the ferrari garage. there, carlos sainz, in his pristine red race suit, was doubled over, socks clutched in his hand.

"no, no, no!" he wheezed, laughing so hard he was struggling to breathe. "that can't be real! y/n, you didn't!"

across the garage, you, his ever-playful wife, smirked, phone in hand. "y/n! you dyed my lucky socks pink?" carlos' voice, laced with mock horror, reached your ears.

you winked, feigning innocence. "what socks, cariño? i haven't seen any pink socks around."

carlos knew that look. it was the same mischievous glint he saw reflected back in his own eyes every time he'd snuck toothpaste into your shampoo or replaced your coffee with a peppermint smoothie (much to your initial disgust since you hated it, but ultimate amusement).

"oh, come on," he whined, getting up and moving to grab you from your waist. "mi amor ¿por qué debes burlarte de mí? (my love why must you tease me?). y/n still holding up her phone, to record her shenanigans, had small tears in her eyes following her husband's reaction. after posting the tiktok the caption read: 'sending some extra luck to my favorite driver (don't worry, they're his backup pair) #f1 #pranksforsainz #losdivertidos

the video had already blown up, with comments like "y/n is savage" and "carlos, your wife is a menace!" erupting like virtual popcorn.

charles leclerc, carlos' teammate, strolled by, phone in hand. he glanced at the video, then at carlos' pink-socked foot, and burst out laughing. "mate, you're doomed!"

carlos groaned, but a smile tugged at his lips. you two were known in the paddock as 'the funny ones'. your constant pranks, playful teasing, and the undeniable fact that you seemed to share the same mischievous personality – it was all part of your humor, your way of showing affection. as charles saw the way carlos and y/n looked at eachother he chuckled as he remembered the times carlos had put a whoopie pillow down on y/n's chair infront of the ceo of ferrari much to her horror or how y/n had replaced carlos's hair gel with glitter. the two were madly in love and in such a serious world, they still found time to be human.

charles continued to recall how carlos would always hold you in anyway he could, how he would grasp on to your pinky finger in a crowd, how y/n would always hug carlos from behind, the way carlos and y/n's hand were permanently intertwined. amidst all the pranks and jokes, the couple knew each other inside and out.

later, after the race (which carlos, miraculously, managed to win, pink socks and all), you found him in the pits, a towel draped over his shoulders.

"so," you said, leaning in for a kiss that left him breathless, "about that luck i sent your way..."

carlos chuckled, pulling you into a hug. "you're lucky i love you," he mumbled against your hair.

"and you're lucky i put the real socks back in your bag before you left for the grid," you whispered, earning a playful shove that sent you both into another fit of laughter.

as mechanics swarmed around them, celebrating the win, charles shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. there they go again, he thought. those two are a riot. but then he saw you plant a big, lipstick-stained kiss on carlos' cheek, and a warmth spread through him. maybe a little paddock romance wasn't such a bad thing after all.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading! 🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[goodlucktai]

16 for the dialogue prompts?

dialogue prompts

16. “God, I’m so sorry, it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

@dandywonderous im so sorry about this in advance 🥹

x

When they were little, and they started wearing masks because Mikey wanted to be like the heroes he watched in Saturday morning cartoons, Donnie asked Splinter to cut the tails of his short so they wouldn’t get in his way.

Leo thought that was a crazy decision, because if the tails were short they wouldn’t match Raph’s. 

“So?” Donnie said, unscrewing the bottom panel of the oscillating fan he stole from Splinter’s room. 

“So what?” Leo said. 

“So what if I don’t match Raph? I don’t have to,” Donnie pointed out, a seven year old at his most reasonable.

His twin blinked, then his striped cheeks puffed out, brow furrowing, fully not understanding the question. He wanted to do everything Raphie did, but denied it when anyone told him so. 

This certain proof of that behavior made Donnie smile, quiet and indulgent the way he only ever was for his other half, but only when it was just the two of them. 

Leo whined and kicked his feet but Donnie wouldn’t tell him what was funny. 

Those long blue mask tails are sodden and heavy as Donnie shifts them out of the way, leaving a sickening trail of red where they drag against Leo’s neck and shoulder. 

They’re pinned down, what’s left of the tunnel groaning and shifting around them, at least three Technodromes filling the sky outside. Donnie can feel the hum of impending doom in his teeth. 

“Hush, Nardo,” Donnie whispers, hand clamped over Leo’s mouth hard, even though it cuts him to have to do this. “You can’t scream, mellizo. Hush.”

His twin writhes, digging at Donnie’s grip with desperate fingers. His chest is heaving, eyes wild with pain. The rosy glow of Raph’s ninpo is all they have to see by as the projection hovers above them in case of another collapse. In the dim light, Donnie can almost pretend it’s mud he’s kneeling in, warm and slick and pooling at an alarming rate from the slab of concrete that Leo’s right arm has been crushed under.  

The safe zone has been compromised. It’s devastating, but not at all surprising. Two of their scouts didn’t report in when they should have, baseline humans who didn’t have a hope of resisting the Krang’s method of interrogation, so it was only a matter of time before the enemy came knocking. 

April, Mikey and Cass have been evacuating their people and transporting supplies in and out of sunny orange portals all morning while Draxum, Hob and Usagi guarded their every move with eagle-eyed vigilance. 

Donnie, Raph and Leo were holding the Krang at bay for every extra second that they could, but they stayed out there a second too long. 

Now Leo is bleeding and the Krang hounds are prowling, their horrible faces scraping the ground as they sniff out that rich source of life, and Donnie’s mind is blank with panic. They’re trapped, and if he lets go then Leo will scream and bring death down on them, and if he doesn’t then death will come anyway, with teeth and venom.

“Shhh, Lilo,” Donnie tries to soothe, imagining Leo’s sweet, bright ‘shhh yourself, Dodo!’ in place of the uncomprehending whine he gets in response. “God, I’m so sorry. It’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Maybe we should pray, he thinks wildly. Not to god, because that would be a spectacular waste of breath, but to one of the people who left the party early and might be willing to toss a miracle or two in their direction. Papa, or Gram-gram, or April’s mom. 

The red projection surrounding them begins to shrink. Slowly, making sure the rocks above and around them won’t shift, until the ninpo is just a warm glow beneath Raph’s skin. Donnie feels a rush of relief and anticipation—Raph has a plan, Raph will tell him what to do. 

Raph puts one arm around Donnie’s shoulders and cups Leo’s face with his other hand, stroking his cheek with the pad of his thumb. Blood smears beneath his fingers. His expression is hard to read in the dark underground. 

“You’ll be alright, big man,” Raph murmurs, all conviction, as if he can make it true out of sheer love. If anyone could, it would be him. Then he says, “Donnie, can you cut him out?”

The question makes his stomach lurch with nausea, bitter and acidic, but it’s a question that he can answer. After fighting in a three-turtle team for the better part of two hours, Donnie’s ninpo feels like coffee dregs left in the bottom of an empty pot. He has enough strength left that he could summon a tool for an emergency amputation, but only that. 

“Not quickly,” he says pointedly, “or quietly.”

Raph nods. He just sits there for a minute, holding them. They don’t have a minute and Raphie knows that but he’s just holding them. Donnie’s heart begins to race in a brand-new direction, some frightened thing in his very center sitting up and taking notice. 

Donatello has always been an incredible number of things, not all of them good or noble or worth bragging about, but above all else, at the end of each and every day, he was Raphael’s little brother. 

Donnie didn’t imitate him when they were kids—didn’t wear his mask tails long or find reasons to follow him around—but he was every firm hug Donnie needed to keep his skin from itching when life got too loud. He was an attentive, listening audience when Donnie had to talk about the things pingponging around in his mind without being interrupted or he’d scream. He was the large hands that held Donnie’s, the snaggle-toothed face that smiled in encouragement, when Donnie learned to walk. 

Donnie knew him fundamentally. Intrinsically. A textbook he never had to study, knowledge that grew up with him from the first moment he opened his eyes to the big, bright world. That’s how he knew what was about to happen the second before it did. 

“No,” Donnie says hoarsely. “Please don’t.” 

“Raphie’s gotcha,” Raph says warmly, the last steadfast and solid and remarkably kind thing left in the apocalypse.

He reaches down and presses the panic button on Donnie’s gauntlet. The alert activates with a bright pinging sound effect, echoing twice in their little disaster-made cavern as it’s received by Leo and Raph’s comms, and the Krang hounds nearby whine and bark in excitement. Their claws churn up earth and rock as they start to run.

Raph spares a second to press a kiss against Donnie’s temple, and another to Leo’s forehead, and then he’s gone. The light goes with him. Donnie shakes like a leaf, unreasonably cold, unable to think. 

Leo is half out of his mind by now, sobbing and jerking at his trapped limb, but all his agony is soundly drowned out by the brutal battle Raphael is leading far away from them. 

“Hush,” Donnie whispers, eyes stinging so badly he can hardly keep them open, tears dripping endlessly down his face. “It’ll be over soon.”

[cryinggirlnamedhelen]

i really loved the oneshot about alternate realities of the bllk boys and the reader's relationship being doomed from the start!!! just wondering if you could one with other bluelock characters like bachira, sae, nagi and reo!! i love ur work smm

aw ty!🫶 and ofc, that would be fine!

bachira - bachira is someone who has schizophrenia, but in this au, it is the 1930s, and bachira is treated almost like a criminal because of his mental condition. also in this au, there is no soccer to comfort him, and his mother is dead. because of his schizophrenia, he is a prisoner because he’s “crazy”. you are his psychiatrist, and the cruel treatment of him pains you despite the fact that you’re being treated perfectly fine. so you do everything to find a cure or some sort of treatment to help, and eventually, you both become close enough to fall in love. but the treatment becomes too gruesome, and bachira eventually commits.

sae - the og bllk story, like kunigami, is your doomed au with him. let’s just take off our rose-tinted sunglasses for a moment here; yes, i do think that sae would be a good boyfriend. but he will always put soccer over you, no matter what. you’re sick? sorry, but he’s got a match later, he can’t stay. he’ll come back tomorrow, after the match, and after practice. your sibling died? apologies, he’s got extra practice tomorrow. overall, yes, he loves you to the pain where it’s physically painful. but at the end of the day, he loves soccer more.

nagi - im so sorry if this is repetitive, but i think nagi is also another case where the og blue lock story is the doomed au here. let’s take those delusional and mischaracterizing thoughts out of our heads at the moment here and let’s be realistic: nagi is a lazy ass bum in the worst way. he’s not going to be emotionally invested in a relationship with someone like he is with reo. he’s not going to actively participate in the relationship. unless you’re patient to the point where it’s a toxic trait of yours (cough cough reo), then no way in hell are you staying with nagi for more than a year.

reo - an au where he is royalty, and he is the crown prince. however, he falls in love with you, a commoner. for a few years, he sneaks out daily, just trying to spend time with you. but you’re poor and you have no idea that he’s the crown prince; you’ve never seen the prince in person after all…at least, that’s what you think. all you know is that they both share the same name—a funny coincidence, reo told you—and that they’re both charismatic and handsome. nothing more, nothing less, right? well, wrong. you were caught, and soon, executed for a multitude of crimes. seducing the prince, adultery, sexual assault, plotting against the prince, attempted murder, fraud, the list goes on. reo is in shock, doing everything he can to stop your execution, but in the end, he could only watch as your head rolls off your body.

[solsticehymns]

TOO GOOD TO BE FAKE: CHAPTER 2

SURPRISE!!! chapter 2 is here! ppl in my poll seemed interested and i'm sick of sitting on this in my drafts i just need to get it out lol. i hope you like ittt!! xoxo sunny ☀️🌻

1: This Is Going To Be a Problem HERE, please read before this one!

wc: 3169

2: That Wasn’t a No

— 1 —

Sirius watches James from his perch on the wall, arms crossed, a glint of approval in his eye. 

“Well, well, well,” he scoffs, watching on like a proud father. “Told him it wasn’t hard.”

“She’s pretty,” Peter muses absentmindedly.

Remus raises an eyebrow, angling his neck to get a better look. All he can really see is a fraction of her face, but it’s enough. There’s a flush on her cheeks. 

“As long as he stops yammering about Lily, I’ll be satisfied,” he pitches in with a reluctant sigh. 

The girl leans in slightly, to hear James over the party sounds, perhaps. The flush hasn’t left her face.

Sirius narrows his eyes, putting on a look of deep consideration. “Huh,” he notes, “either he’s actually good at this, or she’s already halfway in love with him.”

Peter perks up, far too hopeful, “You think they’re really hitting it off?”

Sirius shakes his head, wearing a smug, knowing look. “The girl is doomed, doesn’t stand a chance.”

Remus hums in reluctant agreement. “A rebound.”

—2—

“What exactly are you saying?” I ask, throat suddenly dry, eyes widened slightly. If he’s saying what I think he’s saying…

“Well,” he explains, and I instinctively lean in closer so I can hear him over the music, “We both have something we need, right? You want Simon to remember what he’s missing, I want Lily to think I’ve moved on. Win-win.” 

He shrugs, blissfully unaware of how close he’s holding a flamethrower to the already smoldering remains of my love life.

I’m looking at him now like he’s grown three extra heads. “You’re saying, we…”

“Date,” he finishes for me with ease. Then, after a beat, “Pretend to.” And for the first time tonight, James Potter actually looks a little awkward. He scratches the side of his neck, like he wishes that came out differently.

I bark out a laugh, more of a cackle, really.

“You’re insane!” I gasp between laughs. 

James grins, and damn it, he actually looks entertained. I shake my head, half in disbelief, half finding him genuinely funny.

“Why would anyone believe that?” I blurt out, still chuckling, “We don’t even like each other, we would never, ever be together, Potter,” I go on decisively, sounding at once amused and disgusted by the prospect.

James is wearing a wide, brightened grin by this point, seemingly charmed by my outburst. “You’re overthinking it, darling,” he chuckles, voice soft.

And I catch another flicker of movement over James’s shoulder: Simon, glancing right at me. At us.

“See?” James smirks. “Already working.”

The smile has already begun to fade from my face, though the blush hasn’t left once. I want to smack him, I really really do. But damn it all…

He may or may not have a point.

He sees me considering it, flashes another overly-confident smile. “Think about it,” he says softly, leaning in then to whisper in my ear: “Let me know.”

And then he smoothly departs, leaving me standing there alone, my traitor friends still nowhere to be found. 

I’ll kill them for this.

—3—

I find Alice and Jade near the drinks table, chatting away happily like they haven’t just abandoned me to the wolves.

Alice spots me first and beams. “Oh, hi! How’d it go?”

I grab her wrist. “We need to go. Now.”

Alice blinks, head tilting a few degrees. “Okaaay…”

Jade, sipping her drink, starts sprouting an enormous, radiant grin. “You’re blushing,” she points out, sounding too satisfied for my liking.

I scoff, shaking my head even though I can feel the heat still creeping up my neck. “I am not.”

Alice’s face lights up with the kind of wicked glee that suggests she’s about to make my life significantly worse—and enjoy every second of it. “That’s exactly what someone who’s blushing would say.”

My eyes dart around, scanning the crowd. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. James? Simon? A way out of this hellhole?

Alice notices. Her entire face lights up. “Wait— did something actually happen with James?”

I grit my teeth. “I will explain upstairs. We are leaving.” My tone leaves no room for argument. They exchange a look, Jade stifles a chuckle momentarily, and then I’m grabbing each of their wrists powerfully and dragging them with me.

I haul them alongside me without a word, winding up staircases and corridors on autopilot. My mood is palpable without the need for speech. 

The second we step into our dorm, I throw myself onto my bed, face down, colliding haphazardly with my pillows. 

Alice barely waits for the door to close. “Sooo…” she rocks back and forth on her heels with her hands clasped in front of her. “You and James Potter?”

Jade sits on the bed across from me, calmly sipping her tea. She levels me with a look. “Start from the beginning. I need details.” Her tone is pure interrogation—for a second, I half-expect a single, flickering lightbulb to swing overhead.

I groan into my pillow. “I despise you.”

Alice and Jade exchange a look.

Alice sighs dramatically, arms crossed. “Fine. If you won’t talk, we’ll just have to make our own conclusions.”

Jade deadpans, “You’re in love.”

Alice gasps, pointing excitedly to Jade, exclaiming “Enemies to lovers!”

I whip my head up with another loud groan. “Girls, no.”

Alice smirks. “Then explain.”

I sigh heavily, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. How do I even explain this to them? It’s a stupid idea, they wouldn’t understand, just like I don’t. 

Another sigh, “It’s fake,” I mutter, barely intelligible.

Alice squeals. Jade literally spills her tea. 

They simultaneously croak, “WHAT?!” Both of them are angled towards me now, leaned in like vultures pecking at a corpse. Yes, I’m equating myself to a corpse at this point in time. 

I throw my hands up. “He told me we should pretend to date.”

Alice immediately surges forward to grab my shoulders. “Do you realize you’re living every girl’s dream?!”

Jade, trying to process: “So let me get this straight. You and James Potter…”

Alice finishes her thought, stating it plainly: “Fake dating.”

I nod miserably.

Alice flops onto my bed like she’s having the best night of her life. “Okay, so romantic! You’re living in a rom-com!”

Jade, the one sane person in this room, narrows her eyes at me. “Okay, but why?”

I rub my temples. “Simon. Well, and Lily. James thinks—”

Alice claps her hands. “So you want Simon jealous.”

I glare at her. “That is not—”

Jade cuts in. “So you this is going to work.”

I swivel around to jab a finger at her. “I do NOT—”

Alice is now pacing around the room, clasping her hands together, looking more akin to a supervillain than my friend. “This is brilliant,” she declares, each syllable carefully enunciated.

Jade sips her tea. “Strategically? This isn’t the worst plan. Social psychology supports it.”

Alice brings a hand to cover her lips. “You have to hold hands in the Great Hall.”

My head drops into my hands. “Please, shut up.”

Alice leans forward, eyes wide, whispering as if we’re suddenly caught in a horror movie (which, honestly, doesn’t seem too far off): “WAIT. What if he calls you darling in front of everyone?” 

I try to hide my internal malfunction at the thought, blinking blankly.

Jade smirks, watching my reaction. “She’s thinking about it.”

Alice seems to revel in my misery. “Oh, she’s panicking.”

I launch a pillow at Alice, which she dodges, cackling.

Jade, ever the logical one, looks thoughtful. “So… when are you telling him yes?”

“I’m not, no way,” I answer quickly with a laugh. Imagining myself actually agreeing to such an idiotic, imbecilic proposition is the funniest thought I’ve had all night.

Alice just smirks knowingly; Jade sips her tea again. 

“You’re gonna do it,” they affirm in unison.

I glare. “I hate you both so much right now.”

Alice, positively beaming, with a sing-songy tone, proclaims, “That wasn’t a no!”

—4—

James is having a fantastic morning.

Sunlight filters lazily through the red-and-gold curtains of Gryffindor Tower, and the air smells like fresh toast and melted butter drifting up from the Great Hall. He stretches luxuriously, arms over his head, feeling well-rested, smug, and entirely too pleased with himself.

Until—

“Rise and shine, loverboy!”

James barely has time to register Sirius’s voice before a hundred-and-sixty-pound idiot drops onto his bed, crushing him.

“Get off me, you absolute menace,” James groans, trying to shove him away.

Sirius throws himself back, arms behind his head, completely at ease. His grin spreads slow, lazy, full of trouble like always. “So.” He props himself up on one elbow, arching a brow like he already knows the answer. “How was your night with your… new fixation?”

James freezes for half a second.

And that’s all Sirius needs. He springs up from the bed with a clap— "Ah! Gotcha."

From the corner of the room, Remus hums into his tea. “I assume this is about the girl from the party?”

Peter, sitting cross-legged on his bed, looks way too excited. “Did you snog her?”

James snorts. “What—no.”

Sirius gasps dramatically, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “But you wanted to.”

James throws a pillow at his face. “Merlin, shut up.”

Sirius cackles, catching the pillow, but Remus is already narrowing his eyes, studying James like a specimen.

“You were laying it on thick last night.” He observes in a neutral tone.

Peter nods. “Yeah, she was leaning in, mate.”

“It was loud,” James mutters weakly, shifting under the covers.

Sirius leans back, arms crossed, his laughter finally subsided. "Look, if you’ve finally realized Evans isn’t happening, I support it. She’s hot."

James rolls his eyes, avoiding eye contact and chuckling awkwardly. "Glad I have your blessing, mate."

Peter nods along, thoughtful. "And you two looked pretty good together."

"Right?" Sirius adds. "I mean, you’re already calling her darling—”

"It’s fake," James interrupts with a cough. He’s never been good at keeping secrets; he knows they would’ve gotten it out of him eventually.

There’s only the haunting sound of wind beating against the windows for a moment. Remus pauses mid-sip of his tea. Sirius stops talking. Peter blinks.

"Wait," Peter sits up. "What do you mean fake?"

James, smug as ever, stretches his arms behind his head. "I told her we should fake it. It’s a mutually beneficial situation. Simple, really."

Another tense silence, the other three boys exchanging glances ranging from amused to skeptical to bewildered.

Peter looks genuinely crushed, face falling slowly as he absorbs the statement. “You mean you’re not actually together?”

Remus rubs his temples. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

And Sirius loses his entire goddamn mind.

James watches, mildly amused, as his best friend throws himself backwards onto the bed, wheezing through suffocating laughter— “Oh, this is going to be incredible!”

Remus, biting back a smirk, shakes his head and turns to James, looking mildly concerned.

“And she said yes?” He and Peter echo simultaneously, incredulously.

“Not yet, anyway,” James replies with a cocky tone and a big, lopsided grin that nearly overtakes his whole face. “Told her to think about it. Let me know.”

The boys look completely unimpressed, dumbfounded even. Sirius cackles another howling laugh, echoing in a wheeze: “He told her to think about it!”

James’ smile falters, he clicks his teeth and shakes his head. “Sod off,” he grumbles, “I was only following Wormtail’s advice, anyway,” he adds, prodding Peter in the shoulder.

Peter beams, thrilled to be acknowledged. “See, I do have good ideas!”

Remus shoots him a look. “You suggested faking an entire relationship.”

Peter shrugs. “And?”

Sirius sits up, still catching his breath, still breathless with laughter, still grinning like a lunatic. "Oh, Prongs. You’ve really outdone yourself this time." He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes glinting with mirth. "Do you have any idea how much fun I’m going to have watching this disaster unfold?"

James makes a face. "It’s not going to be a disaster."

Sirius barks out another dramatic laugh, clutching his chest. "Oh, you sweet, delusional fool."

Remus shakes his head, standing up and grabbing his book. "Alright, well, I suppose I’ll be here for the aftermath." He sounds indifferent to the news— maybe if it wasn’t all a plot to get Lily’s attention, he’d be happier.

Peter nods along. "I call best man!"

James groans, sinking lower into his chair. "Some friends I have."

Sirius claps him on the back, beaming. "Now, let’s start taking bets—how long before you actually fall for her?"

James does not dignify that with a response.

—5—

I am not doing this.

Absolutely, unequivocally, not.

Fake dating James Potter? Absolutely not. The most reckless, thick-witted, doomed-to-fail plan in existence. I don’t care that it might be logical, I don’t care that it might be convenient, and I definitely don’t care that for the first time, Simon looked at me like he might regret letting me go.

I keep repeating that I don’t care.

Except my hands tighten against the cold stone railing of the Astronomy Tower’s balcony, pulse pounding in my ears as I stand completely still, staring out at the Black Lake like it holds all the answers I don’t have. 

The late morning is crisp, sunlight bouncing off the water in flickering shards, and the castle grounds are empty except for a few early risers trudging across the grass, bundled in scarves against the autumn air. It's peaceful, quiet. I should be able to think clearly here.

Only I can’t stop replaying that conversation between us. All I can hear is James Potter’s voice, smug and certain: We both have something we need, right?

And my own, sharp and skeptical: You’re saying we…

His reply, so casual, like it was the simplest thing in the world. Date.

The way he hesitated, the way he scratched his neck like he wasn’t entirely sure what he was suggesting. Pretend to.

I laughed in his face. I thought that was the end of it.

And yet, here I am, standing outside in the cold, replaying it like a goddamn broken record.

Think about it, he’d said.

Like he already knew I would. And here I am, doing exactly that. Thinking about it.

I press my forehead to the railing and groan.

Because he wasn’t wrong.

Simon saw me last night. He actually saw me. And for the first time in months, I saw something flicker across his face that wasn’t just polite indifference. It wasn’t regret, not yet. But it was something. A little crease between his brows, a moment where he hesitated before looking away, like maybe he wasn’t quite so sure anymore. Maybe he was finally seeing what he lost. Maybe I hated that it still mattered.

And James saw it too.

That damn smirk. That ridiculous, all-knowing, too-confident smirk as he leaned in close, breath warm against my ear.

Think about it.

I shake my head, trying to clear it, but it doesn’t help. Because I’ve been thinking about it, I’ve thought about every way this could go. I could say yes, and suddenly Simon would remember what he lost. I could say yes, and Lily would start seeing James in a different light, and they’d get their happy ending. I could say yes, and everything would fall neatly into place.

Or I could say yes, and it could all fall apart spectacularly.

Or I could say no, and not risk anything.

I don’t trust James Potter. I don’t trust his ego, or his theatrics, or the way he gets people to believe whatever story he’s selling. And more than that, I don’t trust myself to pretend to date someone like him without getting caught in the fantasy. Because James—Merlin, James—he’s got this way of making everything seem like a game. Like it’s all just for fun. Like he’s some untouchable.

But I know better. I’m smarter than that.

I know how quickly feelings can get manipulated in situations like this one.

I straighten, exhaling slowly, my eyes fixed on the pearly, reflective surface of the lake. I’m going to find him, and I’m going to tell him no.

That he’s ridiculous for even suggesting it. That it’s the worst idea he’s ever had, and that’s saying something, considering this is James Potter we’re talking about. That I’m not going to play his little game, and that if Simon wants me back, it’s going to be because he actually wants me, not because I orchestrated some elaborate plot to make him jealous. That he should respect himself enough to want the same thing from Lily.

I turn to go inside, only I stop dead in my tracks. Air catches in my throat, the entire speech I had just planned in my mind has now completely evaporated.

Because James is already there.

He’s leaning against the stone archway leading back into the castle, hands tucked into the pockets of his robes, looking like he’s been expecting me. His hair is even messier than usual, his tie half-loosened, like he rolled out of bed without a single care in the world, and there’s something infuriatingly smug about the way he watches me now.

I cross my arms. “Don’t flatter yourself, Potter. I wasn’t looking for you.”

He tilts his head, giving me a fleeting look up and down. “Mm. And yet, here you are.”

I narrow my eyes. “I came out here to think.”

He tries (and fails) to hide his growing smirk. “And what did you think about?”

I huff, unimpressed. “Nothing that concerns you.”

James doesn’t even look offended. He just nods toward the Quidditch pitch below, where a few players are tossing around a Quaffle after breakfast. “Funny, though,” he muses, “how the best place to think just so happens to have a perfect view of the field.”

My gaze flickers— completely unintentionally— to the pitch.

James catches it immediately.

His grin etches deeper into the lines of his face. “Right.”

I want to yell at him, yell all the reasons why this would never work, why it’s not worth the risk. Everything my brain is telling me. But my mouth stays closed.

He looks at me for a moment, just observing, for I don’t know how long. He pushes off the wall and takes a lazy step closer. “So,” he says, voice light, easy, like he has conversations like this every day. “Are we doing this or what?”

I don’t move.

I’ll say no. I’ll turn around and walk away and pretend last night never happened. I’ll stop entertaining the idea that this could work, because James Potter is a reckless, arrogant, overconfident disaster, and nothing about this is a good idea.

I should say no.

I open my mouth.

“Okay,” comes out.

James doesn’t even look surprised.

He just smiles, slow and self-satisfied, and I can’t pinpoint why, but my pulse stumbles and stutters. I feel a warmth curling in my chest before I can stop it.

“Good choice.”

next, 3: Fake It 'Til You Make It:

series page linked HERE

[angrycloudloud]

I thought a sad headcanon about the zaundads.

I just thought that Silco has PTSD from the river and probably he couldn't take a relaxing bath ever again without having panic attacks about Vander trying to kill him. He can barely tolerate showers without panicking, but baths are a big NO. Which is kind of sad and funny since he probably had the money to have a nice bathroom with a place to take baths after the betrayal when he starts his little Shimmer business thing, and he most definetely discovered he can't take a fucking long, warm, relaxing bath by trying to take one and need to drag himself out of the water shivering and crying like a wet cat.

And Vander isn't in better condition, because if i doom one of them i'll doom both of them. Vander can't put his hands in water. Like, he can't do the dishes, he can't help the children to take a bath, he can't put his hands under any liquid without getting frozen on sight and start having flashbacks about Silco. Vander had to organize the girls and the boys to help each other in the bath "because they are big enough" even when they weren't, because he is too scared to hurt them. Once Powder got back to The Last Drop crying because something got stuck on her hair and Vi couldn't get It out, so Vander tried to help her washing her hair, and he had to call Claggor and Vi to help Powder with it because he was shivering too much and Powder was so small and he was so scared he would hurt her like he did with Silco... And he hired people to help with "The Last Drop" obviously he needed extra hands but also because he needed someone to clean the glasses if he doesn't want to end up drunk at the end of the night looking at his wet hands as if he wanted to cut them off his body.

Now you can suffer with me, you welcome.

[hollowwrites]

Company

Ominis x MC

Summary - I wanted to write something with cheeky, teasing Ominis and it quickly devolved into Ominis in love. I like the idea of these two being really mature and serious but when they’re together they’re just comfortable and silly.

50 house point to anyone who catches the Baldurs Gate reference

Warnings - None (Fluffy, comforting goodness)

Word Count - 3200

~

This was getting a tad ridiculous.

Ominis couldn’t really say much. He was the King of sleeping at all hours of the day and in a manner of different locations.

But this was starting to concern him.

On at least five occasions over the last month he had found Evelyn completely passed out. In the Common Room. In the Room of Requirement. On one occasion he’d almost tripped over her legs, splayed forward outside one of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classrooms. Like she was on her way to the Undercroft but simply didn’t make it.

It seemed as well that himself and Sebastian took it in turns to find her, bringing her back to somewhere she could properly get some rest before she started all over again the next day.

See, as soon as Evelyn made her return to Hogwarts, the beginning of her sixth and arguably her first proper year there, she hadn’t stopped. Essays, Assignments, extra curricular activities, extra lessons. Anything the school had to offer Evelyn was in.

That was the only way she could see herself catching up to her fellow classmates.

What she failed to see was that she’d already surpassed so many of them in most of their lessons. Whilst simultaneously learning an entirely unknown field of magic alone and saving Hogwarts from certain doom.

Not bad for someone who didn’t know what a Quaffle was.

But it was that lack of common knowledge that kept her thinking she was below average. Kept her busy.

So when Ominis managed to catch her it was a miracle.

Wrangling her in was something else entirely. Usually he could tempt her into more studying and from there would simply distract her away from her studies until they both collapsed from exhaustion and too many bags of Honeydukes fudge.

They’d made a habit of reading in the tiny lobby of the Room of Requirement, tucked up on the sofa in front of the cosy crackling fire. A blanket over their legs and books in hand, they’d often spend any available free time holed up this way. Whether it was a shared blanket or separate, sat besides each other or at each others feet. Books firmly planted in their laps or, more often than not, precariously dangling from fingers when one of them nodded off.

That cosy warmth is what often coerced Evelyn to sleep after a long day of studying.

And because of that, Ominis had grown accustomed to the dull weight of her head on his person. Leaning on his thigh, or even his chest if they lay at a funny angle. Most commonly was his shoulder.

He paid it no mind. The soft thud of her head falling to his shoulder normally indicated it was time to relax, no longer needing to keep an ear out for her. She was right there.

Where she belonged.

This time is was the gentle hum of his wand that sent her off. The moment he had produced the novel he was engrossed in and the thrum of magic radiated from his wand as it dictated its words to him, her eyes grew heavy. It was often the case, like the soft low drone of his charm was associated with peace.

Although it wasn’t just her. They both found their comfort within each other.

For her, it was his wand and the way it hummed with potential magic. The almost velvety lapels of his robes. The subtle scent of bergamot and black tea.

For him, it was her hair. Yes, he enjoyed the delicate rose that fell around her like a halo, but it was her hair that sent shivers down his spine.

After long days studying, naps and spell practise, her normal prim and proper bun, piled high on her head, began to droop. Tiny hairs escaped it confounds and fell over her face. Of course he only knew of this from the flyaways caressing his cheek as she lay there. And he’d be lying if he said, the small annoyed puffs of air didn’t amuse him as she blew them away. But he much preferred removing those offending strands himself, allowing its soft, barely wavy locks to slip through his fingers like silk.

When she was awake, said act was accompanied by a heat rising in her cheeks, the like of which he could only feel when his fingers eventually dropped from her face. The minute change in her temperature and the way she would stutter out her thanks were pure joy for Ominis.

Whilst she was asleep, he didn’t get the gratitude. Just a disembodied mumble and her soft breath falling over his neck in slow sharp huffs. As though she knew he were there.

It was moments like those, in the quiet when it was just them, that he realised he had fallen for her.

He wasn’t entirely sure when he stopped craving her attention as a friend and started needing it as part of his daily life. Sebastian insists it was from the moment they’d met, teasing him endlessly about being jealous and wishing to court her.

Maybe he had been right.

It didn’t matter now.

She was his friend. An established friendship that he cherished and he hoped she did too. He wasn’t about to lose one of the only people he cared about because of…what? Love?

He would.

He definitely would.

He’d do anything for her.

But so would his family. And he couldn’t allow that.

Besides…how does one approach your best friend and tell them that you love them, whilst simultaneously not wishing to actually be with them for their own safety and due to your own families prejudices? There wasn’t exactly a step-by-step guide…even in the Restricted Section…

So…at least for now, he would enjoy these moments with her where he could pretend. Pretend that she reached for him in her sleep because she loved him too. Pretend that nothing outside of these four walls could harm them. Pretend that they could live that happy fantasy life they read about so often.

Happily ever after.

He didn’t feel the exact moment she began to stir in his lap, her head rolling to look up at him. He was too distracted by his own thoughts, his own imaginings. Too busy distracting himself with her.

There was no indication to Ominis just how long she lay awake for. Her breathing unchanged, movements slow and lethargic. But it was long enough for her to watch the tangle of his brows grow harder, the knot grow larger.

Then a long dainty digit poked his brow. Directly in the middle, where he could feel his frown becoming deeper and deeper. Dwelling on thoughts of what ifs and maybe’s.

That knot was willed away with a single prod of her finger.

“Moody” she grumbled, the familiar husk of her sleepy state melting away the last little bit of negativity in his head.

Gods…I’m so in love her

The thought scared him somewhat. The unknown possibilities, the hurt, the rejection. No, Ominis was very much a creature of habit. He could remain as he was rather contently…for now.

His ever growing smirk became impossible to hide behind the thin veil of annoyance he wore across his features. His lip twitched upward as he tried, and failed, to control his grin. Tutting, with faux exasperation, he shifted his focus down towards his lap.

“Tsk…You can’t just point it out and expect it to go away” he scolded. She’d heard him tell her off before. Most memorable being the unfortunate Undercroft incident. This was a far cry from those times.

“Sorry, it’s just…” she mumbled, still sounding half asleep. Then came another poke to his brow and he could no longer control the easy and airy laugh that left his lips “…I don’t like it when you’re brooding”

“I am not brooding” Ominis pouted upon hear that word. He’d heard himself described as that many times and he couldn’t quite understand why. It wasn’t his fault his face naturally settled into a frown. From what he understood about Evelyn’s visage, hers was much the same but no one called her broody.

“Besides…” he continued after hearing her playful giggle. He hated being called that but somehow when she said it, it wasn’t half as bad. “…if I was brooding, you can’t stop it by simply poking it away. You’ve tried enough times, I would have assumed you’d have understood that fact by now”

His smirk grew to a wide arrogant grin as he teased her. At some point, he wasn’t really aware of when, but his fingers made their way to ends of her hair. Twirling and twiddling the soft strands around his digits, delighting in the tiny morsels of information he gathered from it.

She had longish hair. Thick, far thicker than any he’d felt before. Like a heavy fog laying over his hands.

Her voice suddenly snapped him out of his reverie. A fast and sharp reminder he didn’t live in his fantasies where she was his.

“Then why are you smiling?” She turned her head in his lap to look at his features square on.

Yes, definitely a smile…

“I’m smiling….because you’re, you” he said simply and confidently, not realising it caused a fiery flush to blossom across her cheeks. He just smiled in that half aware, half vacant way that he did. Easy. “…It is still rather irritating though…”

“Anyway…” he continued on, unaware of the bashful way she looked up at him “What disturbed you? I was having such a peaceful evening until you woke up…” He teased, the familiar crinkle on his nose appearing as his smile grew wider.

“Oh…I had a very odd dream…” shortly after she spoke, her head pulled up and out of his lap, a vague sigh leaving her lips causing Ominis to raise a pointed brow.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly, tilting his head towards her, as he always did.

“Mmm…” she hummed, shaking her head as though trying to rid the memories within “…yes, just…dreamt that I was falling”

“Ah…” Ominis replied with a smirk tugging back at his lips. His wand returned to the pages of his book, resting on the cushion beside him “…do you know the old wives tale that if you hit the ground in your dreams, you supposedly die?”

Evelyn glared at the side of Ominis’ face with enough contempt it could burn through him. And he felt it, causing the smirk to widen on his face, a flash of teeth peaking through.

“Wonderful. I trust you’ll wake me before I perish then” she jabbed him softly in the ribs as a low chuckle left him.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I shall let you fall. That way I don’t have to clean drool from my robes every other day”

That struck a nerve.

She shot up in her seat, clambering onto the cushions to get a better look at where she had laid her head.

“I don’t drool!” She exclaimed as she padded around his thigh and knee.

“You most definitely do. I already got rid of it. I’ve become quite proficient at the Drying Charm since becoming your friend” he grinned, wide, teeth bared like a cat as he bathed in her annoyance.

“I do not drool”

“Dribble then. Call it what you will-“

“I don’t dribble either” she muttered, folding her arms over her chest and slumping against the backrest. The distinct little huff as she pouted only caused Ominis to laugh loudly.

“I suppose I should go back to the Dorms…” she groaned as she stretched upwards “…wouldn’t want to dampen your robes any more than I already have”

Oh…

“Wait…” Ominis exclaimed suddenly, feeling the weight of the cushions beneath him shift as she rose from their seat. He quickly grabbed for her, aiming for her upper arm or forearm, but timed it too late and caught her palm perfectly. His long fingers slid over hers as he grasped for her, neither pulling her down nor standing himself. Just keeping her there, whilst his brain racked for an excuse.

“Is everything okay?” Evelyn asked inquisitively, the concern for his sudden shift in behaviour bled quite heavily into her tone.

“Everything’s fine…I just want to talk to you”

“Okay…” he relaxed once more when he felt her return to her position next to him “…What about?”

“I…”

Gods damn it…

“…I don’t have a topic in mind…” he scrambled. though you would never know. His voice, as always carried him with confidence, no stammering or stuttering. If it weren’t for the slight upturn of his brows…one would never suspect anything was wrong.

“You’ve been difficult to tie down as of late…” he continued “…I’ve missed you, missed your voice. I’d…just like to hear you speak”

“Okay…” she says softly, shuffling closer and leaning back into his arm. And the sigh that left him upon her acceptance was…heavy. As though he had just gotten in from a long day shopping around Londons markets, feet aching and awaiting a warm cup of tea. “Where to start…” she murmured to herself, hearing the slight tap of fingers as they drummed against her cheek in contemplation .

“Oh! Well…I read this book recently……”

This was perfect.

Ominis couldn’t imagine a better way to spend an evening. The slow crackle and pop of the fire wood. The soft cushioned nest he sat in. The gentle yet excitable tone in which she spoke.

All of it was so…comforting.

So homely.

He was home.

And as she continued, prattling on about this novel, he listened. Intently. Didn’t interject. Didn’t interrupt. Just listened. Hung up on every single word that passed by her lips.

It was a romance. And though he never expected her to enjoy those sorts of stories, he liked that she was so passionate about them. The cliches, the cringy dialogue, the overused tropes. She babbled on about them all. Though he could tell by the way she stumbled and over explained every tiny detail that she was embarrassed for liking them. Every sentence came with a justification tacked onto the end, as though it needed it.

Those words on those pages made her happy.

Therefore Ominis was happy.

Mainly for the manner in which she spoke.

He knew she talked with her hands. A visual mannarism of hers he never usually got to experience. But as she leaned into his arm, reluctant to let him move, the small twitches of her fingers and sway of her hands, accurately conveyed what she was saying. It was nice to witness her passion bubbling forward in another way.

And her laugh. Gods…

If the sound alone wasn’t enough to cause him to fall for her, her movements were. The way she leaned into him as she threw her head back. The vibrations of mirth sweeping through her whole being shifting the robes between them like kindling. He had to stop himself chuckling along with her from fear she assumed he was laughing at her. But her laughter was infectious, his willpower working overtime to not catch her bug.

It was like she was made for him. The way she laughed with her whole body. Gestured wildly with her hands, a flurry of excitement and joy or frustration and anger. Audibly thought through things, with little hums and ‘erm’s and ‘What to do’s.

She showed him, in her own way, everything he couldn’t see.

“…honestly-”

Her tone picked up. No longer the lull of softness as she explained characters, plot twists, plot holes, everything.

“-I didn’t think I’d enjoy the book. It’s rather cliche and not very well written but…I finished it in one night. I just couldn’t stop. That probably isn’t helping, me falling asleep around the castle…”

Evelyn pulled herself up and turned her head towards Ominis, finally finishing her mad rant about the silly little book she loved. His eyes were closed, head resting against the cushions, and a wistful smile on his lips.

“Ominis? Are you alright?” She whispered meekly, worried she’d knocked him out with her boring lecture.

But he simply smiled wider and opened his eyes, the glassy blue orbs settling over the fire. “I’m fine, I’m just…enjoying your company.”

Though his focus never wandered from her, or her words, he slowly shifted his gaze back towards her. He let out a relaxed sigh and sank further into the cushions, listening intently to the steady slow thump of her heart, the gentle breathes that sound more like tiny sighs.

“I’ve missed you. Missed your voice…I know I’ve already said that but…listening to you just then really emphasised it”

He was met with a simple scoff, a force of air that sounded just annoyed enough for Ominis to worry.

“You’ve finally gone mad...” She declared, her tone indicating amusement. So why the scoff? “…my voice is shrill. At best”

“I’ll admit when we first met…” Ominis started, unable to stop himself from teasing her just a little. “…I thought you were somehow half human, half mandrake but-“

Smack

“Hey!” She whined playfully smacking his arm, his smug chuckle making her own smile widen. She’d known him for a little over a year now and this was the most she’d ever seen him smile.

“BUT…” he said defensively, throwing his arms up in surrender “…I’ve since learned to love it. It’s comforting. Like listening to music.”

“Well…thank you” she said sweetly, unconsciously proving his point with her soft and gentle tone.

“I know you said that book was terribly written but I wouldn’t mind giving it a read. Do you still have it?”

“The Magister and his Mistress?” She asks inquisitively with a curious tilt to her head “Well well well, Mr Gaunt. I would never have took you for a Hopeless Romantic”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he chuckled at the name.

“There is more to me than the Dark Arts and Curses”

He could hear her rummaging around, presumably in her bag or robes pockets, until her fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding him towards a freshly bound book. The smell of its paper sent a shiver down Ominis’ spine. There was nothing better than the smell of books.

As he took it from her hands, their finger brushed against each other, delicate and deliberate. Neither flinched nor pulled away but that was expected.

They already pushed the boundaries of what was considered okay for ‘friends’. Especially for the normally standoffish Heir of Slytherin. Within a week of them knowing each other they walked arm in arm around Hogsmeade and the castle. So this casual and accidental caress most likely meant nothing. And he shouldn’t read into it.

“Thank you…” he murmured, taking the book and pushing down any thoughts that she may feel the same.

There was no point.

They couldn’t be together anyway so why bother torturing himself over it?

Her sudden yawn caught his attention once again and he turned back to her, a soft smirk pulling at his lips.

“Tired already?” He asks impishly

“I’m always tired”

“Perhaps we should get you back to the dorms. Have you sleep in a bed…for once”

Masterlist

[odetojupiter]

this is a surprise to no one but i’m thinking of the twins again. cause i don’t know whether we’re told when tilda developed her drug addiction but considering her erratic behaviour surrounding the twins birth im assuming she was already using prior to the twins arrival. and if she was using before, during, and after giving birth, that introduces so many heartbreaking possibilities for the twins.

this one ran away from me (they say, as tho they don’t always)

i see people saying they just couldn’t take andrew or aaron seriously because they’re five foot even cause that’s a funny height apparently and i just think: did u know a long term impact of prenatal drug use is impaired growth? add that to potential malnutrition and yeah suddenly it’s not that funny anymore. besides andrew being short probably made him seem like an easy target to his abusers which is what made it necessary for him to learn to defend himself in the first place sooo

other impacts of prenatal drug use: altered brain development, cognitive and behavioural issues, damaged communication/language development, newborns can be born addicted and subsequently go through withdrawals (called neonatal abstinence syndrome, which has a long list of symptoms and can cause newborns to be hospitalised or worse). in any context, this is a horribly traumatic thing for a baby to go through but then consider this:

andrew’s brain is already struggling to develop properly thanks to his mother’s drug abuse. and then you add on frequent repetitive abuse including but not limited to several occurrences of child sa. already a 7 year old brain is not wired to be able to cope with that. tie that in with his significant abandonment issues stemming from first his mother and then every subsequent family he stays with giving him up. his own narrative tries so hard to doom him, and he responds to that the only way he can: through anger. violence. how else was he supposed to respond? yes this is more andrew defence bc it seems there’s been a sudden influx of andrew hate and it boils my piss

that brings me to a new point: andrew as a newborn. and his foster family does not want to give him the extra attention he needs as a baby born through prenatal drug use. so they give him up. again and again. so

but to talk about aaron for a sec - not only could he have been born addicted, but being breastfed by a drug user (it’s up in arms whether tilda would breast feed) also has its symptoms - can make the baby sick, can ruin its sleep, cause later behavioural issues and even transfer the drug to the baby. aaron, living with tilda, was also doomed to follow the narrative.

[feyascorner]

Okay now hear me out HEAR ME OUT… this might get a bit angsty

But if astarion had romanced an elf tav, since elves reincarnate in dnd lore and retain some memories of their past life surely astarion would wait, right? Wait for them to come back to him, right??

Well most of us know that already 😋 but one thing I found interesting was; if astarion did find tav again (maybe he confirms it’s them through small mannerisms, maybe they meet at a tavern and this new tav laughs in the same melodic way, or he overhears tav talking about an interest they had in their past life) after confirming it is indeed tav again, how would astarion even feel ☹️

Because yes yipee you found them!!! But now are faced with the task of having to not only explain everything to them again (maybe fill in some of the gaps that are missing in their elf trances) but also have to deal with the impending doom that they’re going to have to die all over again 😭 like a cruel never ending cycle of having each other but never forever. (“I love you forever”, “oh darling our forevers don’t match up”)

OR OR OR if we’re feeling extra cruel, astarion finds tav over and over but each time tav dies gruesomely and it’s never preventable. A classic #timeloop lmao.

Ok enough rambling do with that as you wish

I LOVE TIME LOOP TROPES SO BADLY IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY...i dont really like how this came out but i love sad astarion so!!! not proofread so pls excuse that!!

Astarion, of all people, should love blood.

But when it's yours, all sticky and warm on his hands, he's repulsed by the crimson red staining his pale skin. Your lifeless body lies in his arms, head tucked into his chest, but your own no longer rising and falling in rhythm with your breaths. Your lashes are specked with flicks of red, and your eyes shut almost as if you're sleeping. It's only in moments like these, where you're truly like him, yet not like him at all. Dead, but not undead. Even in death, he thinks you're beautiful.

Just a few years, he reassures himself, despite the wet tears on his face. Just a few years, and you'll be back, as you always are.

And he does find you. After so many years of wandering aimlessly into bars you liked, places you enjoyed spending free time in, and spending most of his time in your previously shared home, he finally comes across you in the city square.

Only then does he realize you haven't gathered all of your past memories yet. On the one hand, he's ecstatic he found you when you have more time left in your elf lifespan, but on the other, it pains him to see you look at him in a gaze that's void of your usual adoration. But no matter. If something as trivial as this were to break his spirit, he would've rotted away years ago.

It takes time, but you manage to remember him again fully. When you do, neither of you wastes any time in restoring the remains of your previous lifetime together. You redecorate your old shared home together, toasting to a new lifetime together afterward. You give him that soft smile of yours, and he thinks he could not be happier than this. With you having so many years left, and him being infinite, he has no need to worry about being separated from you anytime soon.

For a moment, he's almost glad he was turned into a vampire spawn, because of what it means for the two of you.

"I love you forever," you say one day, pressed up against his chest with your legs entangled. "Even through all my lifetimes."

"Quite the grand gesture, my love," he grins, and you return the sentiment. "While I have only this lifetime to give you, you can have all of it. You can have what's my eternity."

You press a kiss against his lips. "...And half your closet?"

He snorts. "Everything except that."

It's okay, he tells himself. He has time. He won't have to watch your lifeless body lowered into another grave again until he's readied himself---though it seems he's never truly ready. As long as he's careful, you'd be okay.

He's always joked that your heroic tendencies would be the death of you.

There had been a storm. A large one, in fact, causing large waves to crash against the harbor and sending its occupants fleeing inward toward the city.

He should've begged you to stay.

"It's dangerous."

"It's far enough from the harbor, I'll be fine," you insist. "People need help fleeing and our neighbors are going to help out. I should too."

"Then I shall go with you-"

"It's still daytime. We can't risk it," you shake your head, squeezing both of his hands. He smells the whisk of your shampoo as you do. "I'll be okay, Astarion. I'll be back in an hour or two, I promise."

You never do.

By the third hour, the storm has already calmed, and he impatiently throws on a clock and bursts out the door like a madman. He flies past the dozens of people perched on the streets as they try to recover from the hellish storm, and despite how many there are, he doesn't see you. None of them even know where you are.

"They saved my son. Jumped into the water into those nasty waves and got him out, but they...they didn't make it."

Astarion can see the fisherman's mouth continuing to move, but he can't hear him anymore. He feels like he's suffocating, eyes wide as they slowly turn to the calm ocean that now acts as your grave. But there is no tombstone, and there is no place for him to lay down your favorite flower.

He was supposed to have time. You were supposed to have time.

And this time, he doesn't even have the opportunity to kiss your pretty face goodbye, left with nothing but the murky waters of the city that extend past what his eyes can see.

It's times like these that he hates his own eternity.

He's numb by the time he reaches the house again, just as you'd left it. When he enters the bedroom, he realizes that neither of you bothered to make the bed this morning, and sees your pillow crumpled messily against his own. And beside it, your messily tossed pajamas lying with no owner anymore.

He grabs the shirt, staring down at it with dull eyes.

He can't even cry anymore.

Astarion spends the next few decades as a ghost of the city, holding himself hostage in the confinements of his own home. He doesn't touch anything, he doesn't move anything, and he doesn't even dare to open your closet door out of fear that your clothes will lose your scent. He's sure they've already lost it, but it comforts him to know that he's left everything exactly as you had.

Time passes, and as usual, it only leaves him behind.

The criminals lurking in the shadows are the ones who face his wrath. He hunts them down viscously, barely drinking half their blood before they're already dead from the wounds he inflicts on them. He gives no more mercy, because the world has not shown him any in return. Today is no different, as he corners his victim for today in the darkest alley he can find that has a dead end.

The man begs for his life, but it doesn't even register in Astarion's head before he's dead.

The blood tastes like nothing as it slides down his throat. When he releases the man and his body collapses to the ground, Astarion wipes at his mouth, glowering blankly at what remains. A corpse. Even filth like this could leave something behind while you were lost in the sea, forever forgotten by everyone but him. It's not fair. It's not fair at all.

"Astarion?"

His head whips around, able to recognize your voice anywhere, regardless of how much time has passed. It relieves him because he'd begun to fear that his mind had grown foggy in regards to your voice, but the worries seem to have been misplaced because you sound exactly as he remembers. Your hair is a different length now, your face void of the previous scars you've had and replaced with new ones. But no amount of change can stop him from recognizing you. Not even death itself.

"Darling."

"I knew I'd find you here."

As you run into his embrace, he sees color again. He can breathe again. He can live again. And for the first time in decades, he lets himself cry again.

No matter how many times he does this and how many times you die, he'll wait. Even if it crushes him to watch your demise every time.

[kimquatz]

OCs!!! What’s your favorite random OC fact that’s nonobvious / seems incidental but you wish someone would ask about it so you can ramble about it? 👀

I put so many dumb little trivia details into my OCs that I have thought long and hard about that literally no one would care abt LAKSDAK

the first one that comes to mind (and I'll keep it brief) is how my OC Jishen is associated with the number 4 for a variety of reasons.

He is loosely based on Fangxiangshi, a Chinese exorcist who "could see in all four cardinal directions to dispel evil spirits and guide lost souls."

because of the above, Fangxiangshi is depicted with literally four eyes.

Tangentially related, but Fanxiangshi is roughly translated to be a Seer, adding to the fact why Jishen is a Seer of Doom LOL

As a partial nod and joke, Jishen wears glasses as a "four eyes" joke

The number four is associated as unlucky in Chinese culture because it also phonetically reads as death. Jishen heavily associated with both bad luck and death (Doom player....)

Somewhat related, but I picked his birthday to be on December 24th because: 1) He was coincidentally made in December, 2) Ironically, him being a Capricorn fit him best, 3) thought it would be funny just to throw an extra four in, and 4) an extra layer of irony bc he'd hate the holidays LOL

[shaisimp]

Fyodor's Drunk Lover.

(7th post woohoo! Fyodor Dostoevsky x reader. Very wholesome trust me :))

Your boyfriend has been observing you for a while as your intoxicated state is increasing with each and every drink that Nikolai is generously offering you. You keep slurring over your words, getting hiccups even. He grabbed your arm to prevent you to take another glass of alcohol before speaking up. “Dear, I think you should slow down on your alcohol.” Without knowing how drunk you are to forget he's your boyfriend, you thought he was a stranger and not your boyfriend. “But Nikolai is generously giving me drinks, it won't hurt to drink more riiiight stranger?” You slurred and whined over your words, blinking at Fyodor in a dumbfounded and slight confused manner. In your perspective he's appearing more of a caring stranger rather then the reality of him being a worried lover. He looked at you with a concerned expression, sighing a bit as he spoke* "But dear, you're already drunk." He smiled at your innocent face, seeing you as a vulnerable, easily distracted little bird. Which meant he'll have to guard you extra carefully, to prevent you to get yourself hurt. "Would you like some water as a substitute?"

He offered as a solution. “But water is not alcohol..” You whined at this worried 'stranger' who's almost as concerned to a lover may be. The fact that he's patient enough to deal with a drunk lover while getting called a stranger is impressive. He chuckled softly and shook his head. "I know, but you really should drink water. You've taken a couple drinks already." He gave you a slightly reassuring smile, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted while still being persistent. "Here, I'll get you one- it's cold." With that, he let go of your arm and immediately ordered a bottle of water for you. You hesitantly gazed at his gesture of being persistent on getting you drink water. I mean, ofcourse it appears weird in your point of view he's a stranger rather than the reality of him being your boyfriend. But hey, that's what being drunk does to you apparently.. “If my boyfriend were to see you acting all too nice to me I'd think you're doomed.” You whimpered as you blinked at him. How funny that you remember having a boyfriend but not realizing your boyfriend is the 'stranger' infront of you right this moment. An amused expression crossed his face at your statement, amused by your drunk self who didn't even recognize him as your boyfriend. He wondered if the other people in the bar would think he's your boyfriend or just a stranger. In the end, he just chose to play with the misunderstanding, smiling at you. "Ah, then I guess I should be afraid now. Since your boyfriend must be very handsome and intimidatingly tall, right?" He asked playfully, leaning a bit close to you and smiling wide. Getting the chance to talk about your lover, you started beaming a grin like a fool on love as your cheeks may have heaten up too.

“He's taller than me and he's very attractive,” You placed your elbows on the counter as your hands were resting on your cheeks. As if you were daydreaming about him. “He's really caring..and he's gentle..and, he's everything!” His amused expression turned into a playful one as he continued to tease you, even amused by how intoxicated you seemed at the moment. "He sounds almost too good to be true, huh?"

He chuckled.

He noticed how your cheeks seemed to heaten up, making you look more precious than ever before. "Does your boyfriend kiss you too? Perhaps hold and hug you a lot? Maybe even caress your soft cheeks?"

He asked teasingly, enjoying this moment. “He likes showering me with kisses, may it be on my lips or neck..well everywhere! I like how he holds me everytime I always get to snuggle him..” You continued and continued to gush over him as he continued to ask those silly questions about himself. Despite this drunken state you're in, it's so evident you're basically head over heels for Fyodor. Fyodor seemed to be getting more amused the more you continued to gush over him, especially in such a drunken state. He chuckled as he enjoyed this fun teasing game he was playing with you in. He also found this moment adorable. "Wow, it seems to me your boyfriend has a very handsome face paired with the gentleness and kindness of an angel." He commented with a smile, teasing you as if he wasn't the one you were raving about the whole time. “Mmmhm! I love him.” You beamed another happy smile as you were lowkey daydreaming about him, although the intoxicated state you're in it's just...amusing for Fyodor to see and watch his lover forget he's their boyfriend and kept referring to him as a stranger. You being in this drunken state is certainly amusing for Fyodor, and with each and every innocent statement you speak about him, he seems to continue to enjoy this fun game of teasing you while intoxicated. The more he played the game, the more amused he became. "It sure is adorable how much you love him."

He commented with a teasing tone, knowing full well that the 'him' you were talking about is actually him. “Mmmn...I miss him.” You slightly whined as you nodded to his statement, after a little while of gushing over him it seems it went into a turn when mentioning you missed him. ...Even by the fact the person you miss is right infront of you. His teasing smile slowly turned into a concerned one as he witnessed your sudden change of mood. You were talking about him as if you've missed him all this time, even though he was right infront of you. You even started to whine as if he was gone for a long time, like some sort of lost child. "But...I'm right here, dear." Fyodor spoke up, trying to snap you out of it. “How can you prove you're my Fedya?” You huffed ever so slightly as my cheeks puffed up and gazed at him with a slight frown. Calling Fyodor as 'Fedya' was one way to say it's a nickname. It appears that you're still not quite sober enough to recognize him. Fyodor looked at you as you called him 'Fedya.' Your drunken eyes might not be able to notice it, but that name seemed to make his heart skip a beat and melt a few times. He hummed a little, trying to come up with a way to convince you he's your 'Fedya' but also wanted to make the game more fun. "Well...how about this?"

He approached a small bit closer to you and leaned over your shoulders, planting kisses all over your neck. You blinked in surprise and your cheeks heaten up in an instant. Feeling surprised and flustered over the sudden action of him proving he's your boyfriend, which is quite evident enough at the moment. “Only Fyodor kisses me like thi—” Oh. “Fedya!” You exclaimed in a happy tone upon recognition, finally. You hugged him into an embrace. Fyodor chuckled softly as he heard your sudden realization. It made for a good game. He felt your arms wrap around him as you held onto him tightly, squeezing him into a warm embrace as you also realized he's your boyfriend. Your drunkenness seemed to have subsided as your senses kick in again, now realizing you're drunk. "I'm here, dear."

He hugged you tightly in a reassurance, smiling brightly as you were finally back to your senses, finally realizing he's actually your boyfriend. “I missed youuuu..” You whined and nuzzled your head against his chest upon finally realizing he's your beloved. Letting him wrap you into such a comfortable embrace which, you're doing the same to him.

He chuckled softly as you nuzzled against his chest, hugging tightly while he wrapped you into his arms. He's happy to see you back to your senses, even if you were just intoxicated. In his eyes, you'll always be the cute and adorable little bird he fell in love with. "I'm here, love."

Fyodor then lifted you up slightly, taking in some of your body weight like you're a small little bird. He'll have to make sure that his lover stays safe.

[koffeebean]

my thoughts on the ending of the hex quest. so. 1999 spoilers.

the entire "beating wally with the power of love" is funny, sure, but i think that is fucked up about the quest is that all of the protoframes originally died because they were not accepting themselves. kind of. let me explain;

aoi dies because she uses her powers to the point her body just cannot handle it, quincy dies because "he got found" by a tank (which is later revealed that he died because he did not understand he could shoot the enemies inside), eleanor died believing this was her last shot and lettie died being scared of eleanor, arthur died taking the title of the "good leader who sacrifices himself" and amir dies because he did not understand the extra abilities that come with warframe.

so we need to focus on two things: canonically, iirc, quincy(?) says that they were not given any instructions. no manuals, no nothing. they got these powers and that's it, which makes arthur the only one who is able to use his abilities with expertise. aoi, amir and quincy did not fully know what they were capable of until drifter helped them (and lettie too, as in the comics she says she's "getting the hang of it" when healing arthur, meaning she most likely was making things up as she went)

the second is that. well. albrecht especially used not the best individuals??? mentally??? for the protoframes. they probably came to him as a las resource, and afaik the protoframes are the only ones that managed to survive the strain they were infected with, but all fo the protoframes seem to be people who, without the appropriate help and support, would lose themselves. arthur would be an even more sacrificing asshole with the need to be seen as a hero regardless of what is going on around him. eleanor might have succumbed to the techrot seeing how her relationship with it is (good job on naming it girl mwah). etc.

so like... yes. i guess that the "power of love" saved the protoframes, but not in the way that "oh love fixes everything" but rather love comes with acceptance, and acceptance comes with change. without the variable factor of the drifter being capable of "taking their pain away" like the operator did albrecht's entire plan would have gone to shit. and it had, as drifter had to do a timeloop for the hex to survive. albrecht's flaw was not that he did a fucky wucky, but that he did not see it all through and simply assumed they were all doomed. albrecht's flaw was that he never realized the gift that loid gave him, the power to change through love, and thought that the protoframes were unable to do so too.

but anyways that's just my thoughts :p the guy should at least given the protoframes a warframe 101 manual. also does this even make sense at all

small edit i realized after writing this: if arthur had stayed w amir and aoi instead of running into the core, blinded by the need to be a hero, things might have been different pre-timeloop

[crescentpaws]

when do you think you started to ship Fintante? Was it when you saw the fandom?was it a certain line that one of them said and it was like, “oh yeah, no Fintante is def a thing”or was it something entirely different? I’m curious to know:)

also who did you like first, Fintan or Bronte?

well of course it was that one line in nightfall… i saw “long history” and was like haha wouldn’t it be funny if they used to date. as a joke. but then it became less and less of a joke. LMFAO. (my personal headcanon is doomed situationship similar to what oralie and kenric went through but evil and worse.) but like i’ve said before i was only part of the fandom on instagram until recently and very few people talked about fintan already so. i didn’t really know it was an actual thing other people also shipped until later (i didn’t even know their ship name until coming here… side note part of the reason i want a bronte last name reveal is because i think we need a better ship name for them. we just took fintan’s name and added two extra letters it doesn’t seem unique enough). i’ve definitely converted many instagram people over to the dark side but i don’t think i’d genuinely ever seen any content of them other than my own until i came to tumblr (you guys have to understand i will be so devastated if this site goes down i was carrying the fintan fandom on my shoulders… now that i know the joy and freedom of keepblr idk how i would cope…)

also, for who i liked first… Fintan. obviously. i actually didn’t really like bronte until i started shipping the two of them LMAO. mainly because it forced me to analyze his character more. & now i think his absurd asshole behavior is funny 👍 lowkey props to him for not having murdered anyone yet