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lamoobsessions · 2 months

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Fortune for the Fools

Hazel Callahan x FemReader

Synopsis: After an underwhelming proverb from an underwhelming fortune teller at the county fair, you have an unexpected run-in with Hazel. When time passes and feelings prosper, you finally begin to believe that maybe that fortune was right after all.

A/N: Enjoy this prologue to a fic i'm working on, while I slowly hoist myself out of this writing slump. Each chapter will have a lyric from a song by a queer artist, so I hope you enjoy :)

Prologue: "My heart's out. My guard's down." - Body and Mind, Girl in Red

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To you, everything about the ‘End of Summer Carnival’ was enchanting. The pop-up canopies glowing in the night like lamps. The game booths sounding obnoxious buzzers as the kids played them for cheap toys. The tall, flashing lights welcoming onlookers to their sketchy rides, which, to your dislike, capriciously shook as they sat in the dirt -They weren’t safe, anyone with half of a mind knew that, but anyone with a sliver of fun would ride them anyway. Even the smell of the event was kind of charming. Sure, there’s the frequent whiffs of vomit and B.O., but usually those smells drown in the overwhelming scent of funnel cake and sugar. All in all, there was a lot to love about the carnival.

Like every year, you attend with Sylvie, whom you’ve known since… forever you think. You and her clicked. Maybe it was your reserved demeanor and her gregarious attitude that made things so easy. Many people found it shocking when they found out how close the two of you are, simply because you’re polar opposites. Either way, the two of you made quite the pair.

However, at the moment you stand alone among the carnival’s rapture.

All is well though, you have a routine for this sort of thing. You start out with the games, then the rides, then get food, and finish the night off with a ride on the Ferris wheel. It’s a perfect system you discovered a couple of years ago, and it hasn’t failed you yet. The only downfall of this plan is that Sylvie isn’t big on the carnival games, so you’re often left on your own for the first half. Which, you don’t mind, it’s less competition for the prizes anyway.

That’s how you’ve found yourself here, standing in front of an old vintage fortune-teller named ‘ZOLTAR.’

To your understanding, this is the first year the local carnival has had a fortune teller machine. The thing doesn’t even ask for one of your tickets, it only asks for a dollar. So, thinking it must be fate, you decide to try out your luck.

Inserting the money into the slot, a suspiciously long moment passes, a moment long enough for you to begin to think the thing must be broken, and you dollar just went to a waste. Yet, just as you were about to shake some life into the machine, a whimsical harp plays from the speaker, “Cheer up my friend, and listen to the proverb from Zoltar.”

The sudden, and unreasonably loud, audio makes you flinch.

“From small beginnings come great things.” The machine suggests. “Ah yes, and lucky for you the great Zoltar sees much happiness for you in the future. Go out and find it, but don’t run off too quickly, Zoltar has more to say for you.”

A shuttering emanates from the ticket dispenser, as it pushes out a small yellow ticket. Pulling it from the slot you read the back of the card.

It's all the same mumbo jumbo you'd expect from a fortune. 'Things are going to change soon… blah, blah, blah… Be brave in your choices… yadda, yadda, yadda.'

You huff a laugh looking down at the card. “great…” you mutter.

It’s truly is the same fortune-teller crap most people get, but you can’t help but to hope it’s true. What’s the harm in hoping, right?

However, after a few carnival games, this hope started to feel like bullshit. Firstly, your favorite game that’s here every year is gone, then you lose half your tickets gambling them away on some guessing game, then, at the time your supposed to meet Sylvie by the Ferris wheel, she’s a no show.

‘Great happiness in your future, my ass’ you thought.

At least you had enough cash left in your pocket to buy back the tickets you lost. But first, there was a fried Oreo stand practically calling your name with it's infectiously sweet aroma.

Deciding to ditch Sylvie's meeting spot, you make your way to the concession stand and join the endless line.

Minutes pass and you’re finally close to the front, with the delicious smells of chocolate and sugar getting stronger and stronger with each step. Although, another minute passes, then another, then another, and the line has yet to move. Peering to the front, you see a girl fumbling in her wallet, a look of panic evident of her face.

Even from a short distance, you’re sure you know who it is. Though, curious to see what’s going on, you listen in closer.

“Ma’am you can’t pay with tickets, we only accept cash.” The woman behind the counter argues.

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I promised some friends-”

“If you don’t have any cash, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the line.”

Looking into your wallet for extra cash, you notice you only have cash for your own fried Oreo and some more tickets. If you were to buy more from the concession stand, you'd have to give up on the possibility of buying extra tickets later.

But, being that it's the last night of the summer and your 'lucky fortune' can't seem to come true, you at least have the chance to bring happiness to someone else's future.

“Excuse me!”

Both the woman behind the counter and Hazel turn to you.

“I have extra cash if you…” you suggest.

“Oh no, it’s…” Hazel dismisses, “You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s no problem, really. What were you going to get?” You ask, taking the money from your wallet, while making your way to the counter.

Hazel stares at you, dumbfounded, seemingly unsure if she should accept the offer.

“She was getting two churros and a stick of cotton candy.” The cashier speaks up.

You nod and count the cash before handing it to her. “Can you add a fried Oreo to that order?”

The woman bobs her head while counting the cash and shoves it into the register. “We’ll have that right out for you.”

“Thanks,” You smile and make your way to the pick-up bar for the food. Hazel follows you hesitantly, presumably taken back by the interaction.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she comments.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

As embarrassing as it may be to admit, there was always this fondness with her, an insatiable desire to be her friend. But, making friends wasn’t always your strong suit. You mostly kept to yourself, sat in the back of the class with your nose in a book. Sylvie’s told you countless times how unapproachable you look, but you never got around to fixing that detail.

Hazel wears a confused expression, as if she couldn't quite piece together something in her head.

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You begin, figuring she's probably trying to pin a name to your face. “Hazel, right?”

“Um- yeah. You know my name?”

“Yeah I mean, we’ve been going to the same school since like freshman year. Of course I know who you are.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t normal to know random people’s names in your school. It’s a big school, filled with a lot of people. Many students graduate not knowing half of their class. But, you knew Hazel’s name because, like anyone you find interesting, you learned it.

“Oh yeah, right.” She laughs awkwardly. “I knew your name too, by the way.”

You smile, letting out an amused huff at her insistence before looking to the Ferris wheel, where Sylvie has yet to show up. You'd be worried if it weren't Sylvie being her usual self. She either got caught in some atrociously long line, or is currently talking some poor souls head off somewhere.

“I-um,” Hazel begins. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for the food, so… thanks.”

“Yeah, of course. Don't mention it." You chirp.

“No really, I owe you one. Usually they accept tickets at these things, but I guess they don’t do that anymore.”

“Yeah, they stopped doing that last year after some kid, like, figured out how to forge the concession tickets or something.”

Suddenly, her expression turns into one of clarity. “I was wondering why they didn’t offer concession tickets this year.” She pauses, then lowering her voice to a near whisper. “How did they find out about the fakes though?”

“Wait- was that you?”

Suddenly, she lights up, as if she'd been waiting her whole life for someone to ask. “Yeah, I just bought some customizable raffle tickets online and printed all the same stuff on them. It was pretty easy, considering most tickets, like the one for the rides, have special codes on them so they can’t be replicated, but not the concession ones. There wasn’t anything fancy like that on them.”

After seconds of staring in complete bafflement, you can’t help but to laugh. She was the last person you’d expect to pull such thing off, but maybe that’s because you didn’t know her as much as you wish you did. “That’s honestly genius. I mean, it’s a shame you got caught.”

“I don’t even know how they found out! I was super inconspicuous about it.”

At this, you only laugh harder. It wasn’t even that funny of a situation but for some reason, maybe because it was her, you felt lighter.

“Two churros, a cotton candy, and a fried Oreo!” The woman calls from the counter.

The two of you turn your attention towards the tray of food under the pick-up window. Hazel grabs her share of food, though not before handing you your portion.

“Well,” you begin, while unwrapping the treat in your hands. “Maybe next time you can learn to forge actual money.”

“That would be so cool,” She beams, evidently not catching your sarcasm.

“Cool, but also a federal crime.”

“It’s only a crime if you get caught.”

“Thats a terrible philosophy.” you remark. Glancing at the ferris wheel, Sylvie had finally showed. She waited patiently under beaming lights. “Oh, I gotta go. I’ll see you at school, I guess?”

Something flashes in hazel’s demeanor, something you couldn't quite identify before it was gone and replaced by a smile “Yeah -uh, I’ll see you then.” She waves. “Thanks again.”

“no problem,” you wave off, before taking off towards Sylvie, who quickly spots you walking over, and begins to wave frantically, as if you couldn’t already see her under the blinding light.

“Y/n!” She calls, “You’ll never guess what I saw!”

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully. “It better be the reason you were a whole thirty minutes late to meeting me.”

“Uh-huh,” She answers quickly. “I saw someone get hit by a car.”

A pit of shock and concern fills you. “Oh my god are they okay? Are- Are you okay? How the hell did-”

“No it’s fine, it was just Jeff.”

Immediately that pit of shock dissolves, and your mind begins to wonder how the whole town hasn’t already erupted into a riot simply because it was Jeff. “Okay, so…is he okay?”

“Well, you know, of course he’s taking it way too far and acting like the car hit him at ninety miles per hour, when in reality it was probably one, but yeah, he’s fine.”

That part was believable. For football players who are the size of grown men, they were about as fragile as a china doll. But, the fact that you hadn’t heard about it the moment it happened… that part was a little hard to grasp. “So, you’re telling me, the Jeff -Jeff the star player of the Rockbridge football team, got hit by a car and the town hasn’t turned to pitchforks and torches yet?”

“Yes!” She exclaims excitingly. “I mean, the whole team is devastated, but the people are handling it pretty good if you ask me.”

You huff, taking a bite into your food. “Well, I guess that’s a good enough excuse for you being late.”

“I’m sorry,” She exaggerates, dragging out the apology. “To make it up to you, I’ll let you choose the first ride we go on together.”

“Oh, how generous,” You tease. “But I blew all my tickets on the carnie games.”

“You serious? Why don’t you just buy more?”

“All the cash I brought was spent on food.”

She gives you a curious look, likely surprised that you, for once, came to something unprepared. For some reason you have yet to uncover, a part of you didn’t feel like telling Sylvie about the run-in with Hazel.

“Well, lucky for you, I stole some of my stepdad’s money for tonight. So we can just buy more.”

you laugh, “I don’t think I feel comfortable using stolen step-dad money."

“Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it like I’m your super rich sugar momma, and I’m treating you to a night out.” She shoves a wad of tickets into your hands forcefully.

“Right,” you deadpan, accepting the tickets. ”Step-dad’s money it is.”

“Great,” She cheers, playfully putting an arm around your shoulder.

The rest of the night was spent using all of Sylvie's remaining tickets for eating overtly sweet foods, riding unnecessarily fast rides, and throwing up in grotesque smelling trash cans. Or in other words, the night was spent perfectly. You and Sylvie stuck around til closing and ended the night sleeping over at your place, which is always the go-to spot for the both of you since Sylvie absolutely despises her stepdad. Come to think of it, you’ve probably only been to her house once, way back when her parents were still together. These days, it’s your house and your house only. You never minded the company.

But, as the early morning came and the first day of school had arrived, you began to regret this decision.

Body aching, stomach wrenching, and head sagging like a block of cement, all the decisions of last night finally caught up to you. You felt like shit, and you weren’t the only one. Next to you, Sylvie groaned, dragging her hands down her face as she sat up from the air mattress on the floor.

“I think I’m dying,” She complains.

You hum in agreement, pulling yourself from under the covers and throwing your legs off the bedside. “Do we have to go? It’s our last year, it doesn't really matter if we skip anymore, right?"

“I mean… I’d be down to skip if you are. We can rot in bed and watch movies all day and pretend it’s still summer and that school never started.”

Staring at her with a stoic expression, you hop off the bed and begin to make your way towards the closet. “You’re supposed to convince me to go, not enable me.”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in surrender. “I never said I was a good influence. You decided that on your own.”

You huff, pulling off random pieces of clothing from the drawers and off the hook. “Yeah, well,” You sigh, throwing the clothes on the bed. “I’m going to need all the influence I can get to leave this house before eight. And by influence, I mean caffeine and ibuprofen.”

“Oh!” She exclaims shooting up from the bed. “I’ll get the ibuprofen.”

“Please don’t grab the wrong thing like you did last time.”

A wide grin plasters on her face. “You mean the laxative incident? That was hilarious.”

“No, no it wasn’t.” The last time Sylvie was in charge of grabbing ibuprofen was the night of the Junior and Senior prom. You developed a monster headache from all the cologne clouding the gymnasium air, and when Sylvie somehow came back with laxatives instead of a pain reliever, you were too absorbed in the pain to notice any difference. “I had to leave prom early because all the fucking bathrooms were full with orgies and stoners.”

“Yeah, that was awesome,” She giggles.

“Just please grab the right stuff this time.”

“Yeah, yeah. I can handle it.” And with that, she walks out the room and towards the kitchen where the pharmaceuticals are stored. This time, hopefully, she will come back with the right medicine. You dind't want this sudden luck of yours to continue any longer.

#Thank you for reading!#Don't know how much I like this prologue #I promise it gets better #bottoms 2023 #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan x y/n

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

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in love with an idea

This is a very, very, v e r y minor study in the way that Jamie handles his sexuality, and the fact that sometimes it seems he thinks his only value comes from being sexy and playing football. And the fact that sometimes, one night stands are crap even if they feel good. It happens. Especially if you go home with someone wishing they were someone else. Anyway, I have another fic in the works, should be posted soon. I’ve been absent because I’m writing a long one that will never ever see the light of day because it is way too self indulgent. As if this next one isn’t going to be long and self indulgent as well. Thanks to all y’all who support my writing!! Those of you who leave comments/tags have my whole entire heart, and there is no such thing as too many comments. Special shoutout to @whimsical-roasting and @qquell bc you’re probably my biggest/most vocal supporters and I love you🥺🥺 Ok that’s enough words, enjoy the fic!

in love with an idea

Jamie feels like shit which is weird, because he doesn’t usually feel this way after hookups. He can tell you don’t notice because you just plop down on the locker room bench next to him and ask, “Did ya call your mum yet?” while grinning far too brightly.

Jamie is going to throw up. You’re smiling at him and he’s going to throw up so he gets up and rushes out of the room without a word. He pretends that he left so fast that he didn’t see your grin fade.

He’s headed to the pitch because that’s where he’s supposed to be anyway, but all he can think about is the fact that it should have been you in his bed last night. After all, it was your name that had been on the tip of his tongue all night. It was your face he kept thinking of, and your body he was imagining.

The girl had left satisfied, knowing exactly what she had signed up for, but he still feels like he used her. It’s not her fault that he’s in love with you but took her home, and yet it feels bad anyway. He wonders why no one ever talks about the shitty side of one-night stands. He has a vague recollection of Roy saying something to that effect one time, but other than that, he’s in completely unfamiliar territory.

He throws himself into training with more vigor than usual, purposely running himself ragged.

Meanwhile, you’re still on the bench looking stupefied. Isaac slides next to you in the spot Jamie vacated.

He says, “You should probably check on him,” with his usual solemn gravitas so you nod and decide to do just that.

—

You don’t have time check on Jamie until after training. Ted has you running all around Nelson Road so you just barely catch Jamie in the parking lot.

“Hey!” you call. “You alright?”

Jamie spins around, icon hat atop damp hair. “Yeah, sure, good, yeah!” he says, and now you’re absolutely positive that something’s wrong. You raise an eyebrow.

“That totally sounds like something a completely alright person would say, but for some reason I don’t believe you. Is something wrong with your mum? Is that why you got all weird when I asked?”

“What?” Jamie says. “Oh. No. She’s good, yeah. She’s good. I did call her. Talked for a while, which was nice. Talked about this girl I like, actually.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when Jamie wishes he could sink into the ground. Fuck his stupid rambling.

“Oh?” you say, eyebrow still quirked. “That’s new.”

Jamie shrugs. “Yeah, it is,” he says and then his mouth betrays him once again as he continues, “I’m actually really nervous about talking to her.”

You laugh. That is utterly ridiculous, and you tell him so. “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt, Premier League footballer. People throw themselves at you every day and you eat all that attention up. Why is she so different? Hold on, are you blushing?”

You laugh. He totally is, but he denies it.

“Look,” he says. “She ain’t like a lot of people. She’s fucking…smart or some shit. Not that other people aren’t!” he continues, “But she’s just… different, like. She’s one of fucking… four people who are immune to my natural sexy glow.”

The way Jamie says the word sexy is always interesting because he never used it comedically. It’s always inserted in some serious declaration of himself, as if that and football are the only points of value he believes he has. You wrinkle your nose. “How is that possible? No one is immune. Except maybe Roy. I heard he got his anti-Tartt vaccine boosted last week. Maybe it worked a little too well,” you say worriedly.

“I dunno,” Jamie says. “She said she’s looking for someone smart and I don’t really think I fall in that category. All brawn on me, innit?”

He quirks a smile to mask this strange discomfort he has. You’re not used to seeing him anything less than confident.

“Well Jaim,” you say after a beat, “as someone who is also looking for someone ‘smart,’ it really isn’t about IQ. It’s like… it’s like someone who actually talks to you and has interesting things to say. And is interested in learning, not just from me but from whoever and whatever. And someone who doesn’t talk down. Because, god,” you laugh, “I’ve been on so many dates that are just exhausting because all these smart people want to flex their knowledge instead of sharing it. It’s like a fucked-up power struggle. I never feel that way with you, y’know?”

Jamie tilts his head in a cocky go on type of way.

There he is.

You roll your eyes. “What I mean is, you actually listen to what I say and ask questions, and aren’t rude when I don’t understand something that comes easy to you. My corner kicks are getting better, by the way,” you interject. “Sunday evening practice is paying off.” Jamie comes over every Sunday evening to kick a ball around with you on the Richmond Green.

“Of course they are,” he grins. “Learning from the best, aren’t you?” You flip his hat off his head and catch it, returning his smile.

“Just ask her out, Jaim. I’m sure it’ll be fine. And,” you add, “bring her round! Not enough footballer girlfriends around here.”

Jamie looks at you a moment, taking in the picture of you in Nelson Road’s parking lot, his cap on you head and a smile on your face that he made.

“Right,” he says, then turns to walk to his car. He’s at the door when he turns and walks back.

“Forgot something,” he says to your bemused expression. You point to his hat still on your head.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “That ain’t it. It’s you. You’re the girl. I talked to me mum about you because I think you’re fucking great. If I’m not your type, that’s alright, but fuck it, I just really fucking like you.”

He takes a step closer. “I’m going to kiss you, so now’s your chance to walk away.”

You don’t.

You let him flip the icon hat backwards and cup your face in his hands, far more gently than you thought him capable of as he tips your head up to his.

His lips are soft on yours, and you’re vaguely aware of the fact that Trent Crimm is walking by you, shooting furtive looks your way but you don’t care.

“I think you’re fucking great too,” you reply when you finally come up for air.

Jamie grins. “Wanna go on a proper date tonight? Been thinking about where I’d take you for ages. I can pick you up in an hour thirty.”

You smile.

That sounds great.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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coff-in · 1 month

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YES! I SEE YOU’RE DOING AND TAKING REQS AGAIN!!!

Reader who is constantly zoning out 25/8 head cannons. Doesn’t matter if they’re eating, drinking, bathing, walking or working; they’re always daydreaming in their head. Constantly running into things or tripping because they’re too preoccupied in their head. They daydream a lot to where sometimes they reenact their thoughts or speak to nobody in particular. Their S/O always has to bring them back or navigate them so they don’t accidentally hurt themselves.

Reader can be G/N, or female if it’s necessary for a gender. I’d like Andrew to be the S/O, but you can throw Ashley in the mix too (separately or together) if you want. I won’t throw shade.

TYYYYY!!!!

notes from coff-in: i've been meaning to answer the asks in my inbox for weeks now, but every time i tell myself 'i should answer asks' i suddenly find myself not doing it. like the more i think about doing something the longer it takes for me to do it. eventually i just sort of stop thinking about it and get focused on other work and then open my inbox and go 'yeah i'll answer these now :)' like i haven't been gone for a month or so. is this normal? the same thing happens when i think about soaking my mushroom log or taking my pills or even when i was younger and had to wear my retainer, i think 'i'll do it later' and then i never do it. i'll think 'i should do it sometime today' and then i never do it. why do i do that? sorry about that, in other news: i have started playing roblox and i like sebastian solace from pressure. big fish :3

[gender neutral] reader-insert

[reader] is so me fr fr. 'maladaptive daydreaming' you mean... uh normal behavior... gottem. i appreciate that you said 's/o' because i've been meaning to write for julia for a while (hussies unite or smth).

andrew would find [reader]'s daydreaming endearing, but would see it as a hassle to deal with often. he's constantly nudging you and gently shaking you to get your attention. he'd also tease you about running into objects and scold you for not paying attention. protective instincts kinda kick in for him :') he does wish you paid more attention to your surroundings and school ("i'm not going to be able to help you with your homework forever," he tells you while doing your homework)

ashley would definitely be annoyed. you should be paying attention to her! she's YOUR girlfriend, asshole! you would need to repeatedly (hourly, even) tell her that you do love her, you are trying to pay attention to her, etc etc. i don't think a maladaptive daydreamer would pair all too well with ashley. maybe.... she would feel comforted that you sorta act the same with others, spaced out and unfocused, but there's always that worry in her that someone else will snap you out of your haze and take your attention away. hang out with ashley, she's just a girl who's fun and whimsical, give her all your attention. do it. DO IT-- (she will laugh at you if you trip on something)

julia :3 i think julia wouldn't mind [reader] constantly zoning out. julia is (as far as we've seen, mind you!!) such a sweet and gentle girl, i honestly think you and her would work out very well. she's gemtly holding your arm or hand and swerving you away from poles and potholes. she taps you so you can focus on your work and if you wanna veg out next to her, she doesn't mind that. love that emo girl

----

coff-in

is it a certified coff-in post if i don't rant/vent in the opening notes? anyways please ask me about my opinions on pressure, it's infecting my brain :3

#cobweb in the coffin #tcoaal #the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #tcoaal x reader #the coffin of andy and leyley x reader #andrew graves x reader #ashley graves x reader #julia tcoaal #tcoaal julia #julia tcoaal x reader #tcoaal julia x reader

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itsnevercasual · 9 months

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I'm Shining Like Fireworks

pairing: harry styles x fay!reader

summary: amidst a fay hunt in your village, you fled to a different town far away. a human town. wanting to keep your identity a secret, you allow the townspeople to name you angelina. you're doing fine in the town until a mysterious man appears for unknown reasons. harry. and you don't trust him one bit.

warnings: cursing, violence, a religion similar to christianity gets bashed (not actual christianity though), magic (duh), angst, slowburn, some triggering topics such as abuse, murder, and sa.

—

angelina is what everyone called her, for no one knew her real name, and no one bothered to ask. she never bothered to correct anyone, either. she liked angelina. it was safer than her real name.

everyone knew something wasn’t quite right with her, but they all loved her nonetheless. working at a flower shop, most townspeople had to interact with her anyway.

she did, however, bring a certain joy to diveil they were lacking before she arrived.

she’d been but a child when she came, barely fourteen and always wearing whimsical dresses that floated through the air when she twirled around. now, she was nearly nineteen. a full-grown adult, and that same.. air.

almost magical.

although, that was ridiculous. magic was banned and anyone even thought to be magic was hung.

but what the townspeople didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

—

angelina danced around her home above the flower shop, humming to herself.

“angelina! did you hear?”

the door was thrown open, and aven came through the door, taking her hood off and untying her cloak. she haphazardly threw it over a chair.

“hear what?”

“there’s a new person in town. a boy.”

a boy, meaning he was younger than them.

she didn’t quite consider aven a friend, but she was most certainly not an enemy or threat. she was simply someone who needed a person with whom she could gossip with.

angelina never minded hearing the odd rumors she’d come up with.

“oh, really?”

“yes. and he is very handsome. his name is harry—“

“and.. how old is this.. boy?”

“mother says he’s twenty-four. perfect suitor age!”

she laughed, “just because he’s suitor age doesn’t mean he wants to be a suitor, aven.”

“you’re no fun.”

—

there’s a certain joy angelina gets from the flower shop. she’d enjoy if she could have it in the market square more, in the sunlight all day. but she settles for her shop that is more window than wall.

her dress today was slightly darker than a sky blue. she smiled as it twirled with her as she hummed and picked flowers into a basket. she already had a few tucked into her hair, pinning it into a half up-do.

she stopped when she spotted a man, looking very put together, standing in the doorway.

he was in a purple, a dark one. townspeople were not permitted to wear dark purple, usually. it was a royal color. (although she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t allowed or people just didn’t wear it).

nevertheless, she quickly grabbed the hems of her dress and did a small curtsy.

“sorry, sir. i didn’t notice you slip in!” she chirped, floating over to the counter and setting her basket down. “how may i help you?”

“i’d like a boquet, please.”

he was british, she noted. and he was rather handsome. however, he was human. and she didn’t trust humans.. aside from aven. although, that was more so that she didn’t look odd with not conversing with anyone.

“of course.. did you have an arrangement in mind?”

a shake of his head.

“that’s alright, i can throw something together!”

more like magic something together.

“can i get a name?”

“harry.”

she smiled. he was the new guy in town.

“what’s that smile for?”

“you’re the town enigma, mr. harry. taken most the attention off me, so.. thank you.”

“you’ve been here a few years, though, no?”

“almost five,” she nodded.

“and yet no one knows your name.”

“angelina,” she supplied.

“that’s what they named you. i meant your birth name.”

he said it in a way that suggested he knew something. something more than she was willing to let on.

“anyway. i’ll leave you with that. when will my flowers be done by?”

she snapped out of her daze, “tomorrow morning, sir.”

“rather fast, isn’t it?”

she shrugged, “i’m a hard worker.”

magic, but he doesn’t need to know that.

he studies her for a moment longer before smirking and nodding, “i’d expect nothing less. i’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

—

she did not trust this harry person. she knew how to sense a hunter, and he was.. not quite one, but he also wasn’t.. not one.

he was in dangerous middle ground. she didn’t like it.

and so, in order to keep her identity a secret, she arranged the flowers herself. using magic was too dangerous. if he were a hunter as she suspected, he’d be able to detect it, and she’d be killed.

and like promised, bright and early the next morning, he was there.

she was ready for him, a black dress on as she did her ‘finishing touches’ (tying a bow on it over and over to keep herself busy), when he entered the shop.

the door creaked open, and she looked over with a smile.

“your flowers, mr. harry.”

“thank you, ms. angelina.”

he said her name in a way that made her slightly uneasy.

“why do you let them call you angelina, if it is not your name? you’d think you’d want to honor the person who picked your name.”

“i believe that if someone desires to call you a name they believe fits, then it is your name.”

and it wasn’t a lie at all. if the people thought her an angelina, she was angelina.

“an interesting perspective,” he commented.

“i suppose i’m full of them.”

he gave her a quizzical look, studying her for a moment.

“thank you for the flowers, ms. angel.”

“angel?”

“angelina,” he smirked, and left the shop.

—

that night, harry visited the tavern, “what do you know of angelina?”

“not much,” the man replied. he was older, maybe forty? he wasn’t horrible company, though. “she just showed up a few years ago, with her songs and flowers and.. stories and ideals.”

“what do you mean?”

“at least once a week, she’ll hop up on that well in town square and tell stories to the children. she’ll sing, sometimes. some of the women don’t like it. claim she’s hypnotizing them.”

“that’s a bold claim,” harry’s brows raise.

he’d have to catch one of her stories or songs soon.

“yes, well.. people are nothing if not judgmental creatures.”

he was more right than he’d ever know. “i suppose that may be the case.”

“anyway, she’s nice. doesn’t talk to anyone. not much, at least. nobody knew her name when she got here, she wouldn’t say it. said this funny phrase anytime someone asked.”

“what was it?”

“oh, it was so long ago.. i think it was.. ‘a name defines who a person is. if you can determine what kind of person one is, their name will come to you’.”

this man just gave him more information than he’d hoped.

“odd, isn’t it? tripped me up for weeks.”

he smirked, “odd, indeed.”

“we just called her angelina after a while. i forget who even started it. she never corrected us, so i suppose that’s her name.. or she’s too kind to correct us. she’s a nice enough girl, real polite.”

“yes, i got flowers from her. although, something was.. off.”

“yes. there is something off about her, but she gives the town a little bit of life. i don’t know much about her. aven would know more than anyone, i’d bet.”

“aven?”

“angelina’s friend.. about the only person in town she talks to for more than five minutes.”

“and… where would i find aven?”

“oh, i’d stay far away from aven. she’s nothing but trouble. she’ll corrupt poor angelina if she keeps it up.”

“what has she done?”

“wild girl, that one. does whatever she pleases, doesn’t care about the consequences. her and angelina had a disagreement once. aven lost it and cried witch. no one believed her, of course, because they’d seen the fight. aven was mad a boy had taken interest in angelina as opposed to her. angelina never cared for the boy, but aven was upset. the next day, she dropped it. they were back to friends.”

“huh..”

—

harry wasn’t sure what to make of this all so far.

angelina had a magical air about her. everything about her was like it was intertwined deeply with the magic he was sure flowed through her veins. she was magic.

she’d shown up when she was fourteen, nobody knew from where. just that it was ‘far, far away. a different world from yours, almost’ (her words), never told anyone her name, and her only friend accused her of witchcraft, and then mysterious dropped it.

something wasn’t right here.

—

a/n: i am so excited for this series!!! if you’re confused, din’t worry, it’ll all make sense eventually you’re supposed to be confused lol

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic #harry fic #harry styles one shot #harry #little fay series #harry styles angst

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syaolaurant · 2 months

Note

Hello hello, I love your work and was wondering if you'd be open to making a little breakdown of your art style?

It's really interesting to me and I love taking bits of different artists art style elements and incorporating them into my doodles to get better

Totally okay if you don't want to! 💜💜💜

Take care and have an amazing life 🤗💜☺️

Hello!! Thanks for asking 🤗 I'm not making a little breakdown of my art style I already WROTE A WHOLE ESSAY ABOUT IT!!

Sorry I exaggerated it a bit🥲🥲...

I was very happy to receive this ask, but at the same time I felt worried. Honestly, I didn’t know how to give you a relevant answer because I don’t even think I have a consistent art style 🥲. Except for my usual chibi style which I feel most comfortable with, I feel my style constantly changes. So after going back to review my old paintings, I think my style is a combination of children's book illustrations and Japanese anime style. Many times I have received comments about my paintings looking like they are from children's books, and I agree haha, maybe because I mostly draw small characters in big settings and I usually use bright colors.

My favorite artists:

My drawing style is mostly influenced by my all time favorite artists Heikala and Koyamori, I stumbled across their Insta accounts during my 1st year in college (that was 10 years ago) and from then my drawing style gradually took shape. I also admire Paulina Cassidy, mostly because I like her whimsical nature sprites theme. Recently I’ve been investing in Stephanie Law’s artwork, her coloring technique is so god-like that I hope one day I can reach that level…

Ideas and Inspirations:

Japanese anime/manga culture has had a great impact on my childhood. It was a dream come true for me to be able to pursue my college study in Japan. I think this journey greatly affected my current style. I draw lots of things from small doodles to funny comics. I'd describe my drawings as “silly and cute” since I love to make people laugh and I also live for the fluffs (Sometimes I drew angst too but it still turned out cute haha..). Aside from that, I prefer making “storytelling” illustrations with colorful backgrounds. My favorite things to draw are tiny characters in big scenery, I like to create peaceful static moments that when looking at them help warm my heart and calm my mind.

When making game fanarts, I usually take screenshots as references for background and imagine how the character will act in that setting. I just do what I feel comfortable and use my own judgment for composition … which… sometimes results in weird perspectives (and you know what I’ve just discovered the rule of third recently 😅…).

Characters:

When it comes to drawing characters, I honestly don't know how to explain my style. I think chibi is my most recognizable style, apart from that I usually draw characters in semi-chibi (is it the right way to call it??) or simple anime style. I don’t usually draw characters with dynamic poses or movements ( that’s why I still suck at anatomy and expression 😩😩). I think I’m shifting from anime to a more cartoon style since I kinda have same face problem and I’m trying to practice face shapes.

I think my character drawing style is most influenced by Akihiko Yoshida (who is behind many FF/Nier/ bravely default concepts), as I always draw my characters with chubby round faces and dreamy eyes. I made an example of how I usually draw my characters below.

Technique:

Watercolor technique is quite complex so I’ll explain how I always do my paintings in another sharing post. I’ve posted part 1 of my sharing here. Generally, I love using bright, saturated tones and black ink brush pen or color brush to paint line work.

. I hope I could answer your question. I’m definitely no expert, all the things about art I've learn was self-taught but I'm happy to help anyway I can. 💕💕

And you 🫵🫵 yes you dear sweet anon! I wish you a happy life too!!!! 💕💕

#ama #please excuse my English and that messy handwriting #hope this one is helpful to you #sharings #my art #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy oc

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aechii · 2 years

Text

₍⁠₍ BOX OF MEMORiES ₎⁠₎

a.k.a good luck charm pt. 2

{read part 1}

PAiRiNG ?! childhoodfriend!kylian x black! femreader

GENRE ?! romance, angst if you have 15/15 vision, fluff (😞)

SYNOPSiS ?! in which kylian and y/n bond over a decade-and-a-half old time capsule that has old feelings reflourishing.

C/W ?! just too sweet sweetness, kylian has ****** **** ** ****, small mention of dismembering (it's not serious at all, i promise), kiss kiss

A/N ?! the part two of 'good luck charm' that was requested many a time 😋 divine romance at its finest, i think i luv this 🖤 anyways, enjoy this kinda long fic :D

TAGLiST ?! @mrs-bellingham

~°~

[y/n] slides an unbranded shoebox into the centre of the carpet. vertices still crisp, crooked and wavering hand doodles tattooed all over cardboard brown, with assorted stickers stuck haphazardly, in no particular order. it very much screamed 10 year old kylian and [y/n], infected with chaos and eagerness to fill any empty space.

"my mum gave this to me over the weekend," [y/n]'s voice is whimsical, "do you remember it?"

kylian scratches his head, contemplative, "not necessarily. though, i can recognise my atrocious handwriting."

[y/n] is chuckling, shuffling closer to kylian and the box, which has currently found purchase in the midst of his palms, "with you on that one. you've never been one to have good writing."

a fact that kylian couldn't deny, so he stays silent, not without emitting a surrendering grunt.

he reads that words written in block bold with black, a failed attempt at times new roman capitals.

"'bondy's golden duo- kylian mbappé & [y/n] [y/l/n]', " he snorts and [y/n] does the same.

"so corny."

"yet who made it?"

kylian is taken aback, mouth slightly agape, "right— okay then."

[y/n]'s laughs seep into the air of the room, bouncing off the walls and sinking into the skin of the man in front of her. leave goosebumps in their wake and kylian has to clench his fists to extinguish the jitter in his stomach.

giggles diminuendo, and she urges him on to open it with a light nudge.

kylian picks at the tape that edges the lid on all its four sides, sticking it to the body. the sound of tearing is swift, ends no sooner than 5 seconds later, and kylian is quick to flip the top off.

the first thing noticed is two pieces of paper, folded twice and inscribed to their respective person.

both adults look at each other, a silent gesture signalling the other to read theirs first. but none seem to want to move.

"come on, [y/n]," a smirk, "ladies first."

she rolls her eyes, complying as she picks the letter with two fingers.

"ah, won't you kill me with your chivalry."

kylian snickers, and she pries the folds open, seeing the first few words that initiate a smile, "we wrote these for each other."

kylian's lips curve into a grin too, "really?"

[y/n] nods, causing kylian to take his, hurriedly opening it as his fingers fumble, "then i definitely can't wait to read this."

"i was probably just spewing shit, i don't even remember, to be honest," [y/n] tries to excuse the impending nonsense past her had written to kylian. yet, it rather makes the man more excited.

"that's why i wanna read it... first."

[y/n] sighs, groaning into her hands, "go ahead, then."

smiling, his lips begin to move as he says what his eyes scan, aloud, " 'dear ky, i don't even know what to write but i see you speeding ahead so i'm pretending i do right now'- do you really hate me that much?"

[y/n] is quick to deny, "no! ky, you know i'm not good with words."

he pushes the use of the nickname into the depths of his mind, somewhere he could reach later to daydream over.

"i know, i know. i'm sorry." his smile portrays otherwise, and [y/n] clicks her tongue.

"just continue reading, kylian."

he does so, uttering his best friend's words through his.

"'i think i'll start this letter by saying how much i love appreciate you. sappy and all, yes, but your smile makes me smile, and your laugh makes me laugh. i don't see us as best friends, but soulmates? i think that's what it's called. anyways, i hope you stay being kylian, whatever that means. continue kicking the BALL and not my LEGS, and kick your way stardom!! i wanna see you on my screen one day. imagine it: kylian mbappé, france's best footballer (not the world's, you can never beat LIONEL MESSI!!). how cool would that be??? anyways, love adore you forever, and see you in 10 years. can't wait to open this with you haha.' "

the silence that follows is not awkward, or filled with embarassment, but instead, holds too much emotion to bear the weight of words. kylian is sure he has read it countless times within the space of deafness, ensuring that every syllable is etched into his subconscious, memorising every word so that he could proclaim them by heart.

"10 years, huh?" a number that had been exceeded by 5 years, numbs [y/n]'s oesophagus as if boiled water trickled down the walls of her throat. it seems as if all their friendship had were fraying ends of broken promises and loosening bonds.

"i'm sorry, [y/n], so so sorry." his tone leaks pained regret, [y/n] hates that.

"and, as i said before, you don't need to be."

kylian doesn't look convinced, avoids the girl's eyes as he stares at the paper for so long that the loops and leaning lines of [y/n]'s writing turns into a swirl of black in his vision.

"but you know it didn't have to be that way, [y/n]. a friendship doesn't have to end just so a career can start."

stays quiet because she truly has nothing to say. knows that if she retorts with a blame on herself, kylian would be more angry than he already is at himself.

"we departed on good terms, didn't we? so i have nothing against you."

"i didn't even know if you were alive, [y/n]!"

leaves a quiet room after, and [y/n] sighs, moving closer to kylian.

"but i did. i knew you were doing what younger you wanted, and as much as it hurt that i wasn't a part of it, you being happy made me happy."

tugs at the loose strings of a pillow that graces her lap, then continues, "you had neymar, achraf, sergio, the whole of the france national team, as your support system-"

"but they aren't you, [y/n]," blinks the burning sensation of accumulating tears away, "i wanted to experience all of this, with you, and i hate myself for pushing you away."

she doesn't like how her heart jolts in her chest, sending a ripple of shivers down her spine. they've only just gotten back into contact, yet her body is replenishing the old feelings she pushed down, because kylian couldn't like her back.

"don't hate you, never did and never will, ky," doesn't know what to say and so urgently tries to fill the air with something, "we've reunited now, so why focus on the past?

her words are final and she goes to reopen her letter. kylian stops her however. remembers what he had written, messily but passionately, and would rather she read it when he wasn't there to bear the humiliation and ache of butterflies.

"open yours later." his smile is shaky, but deems it reassuring enough.

[y/n] is skeptical, and raises and eyebrow, "why? i want to know what you wrote about me."

kylian fiddles with the thread that rings his wrist, "and i want to see what would put in there."

[y/n] says nothing, just gazes at him, but gives in and sighs.

kylian cheers, removing the novelty gift wrap that had covered the contents of the box. the laughs that follow are loud, full of disbelief.

"no way!" [y/n] reaches into the box, and takes out a metal case. the things within in hit against the corners, and she feels the weight of the box tilt to one side as they roll inside.

"i forgot about these!"

kylian is dumbfounded, "marble crash?"

she nods, opening the container. there's only a couple of the glass spheres in there, but that's all needed to complete a heated game. reads the small note stuck beneath the lid, and laughs after. it's obvious that it was written by kylian.

"'demand a rematch when you open this. [y/n] cheated in our last match before we put this in here.'" followed by angry face and a sad one.

"there you go— telling lies."

"lies?! [y/n], you never played a marble crash game fairly, and you know that."

she ponders for a few beats, shrugs her shoulders and dips her hands into the box for the next item.

"a win is a win, kylian."

he side eyes her, expression incredulous.

"unbelievable-"

cut off by a scoff, before a soft object is hurled into his direction. he catches it before it hits his face, and recognises the matted fur and missing space of where an arm should be.

"armless messi ?" smiles as he notices ]y/n]'s disdained look. recalls the memory like it was yesterday, and can't help but feel sorry for the footballer-named teddy bear.

"i'm still angry at you for that, kylian. don't look at me."

he cackles, mouth wide and he falls backwards. [y/n] climbs over to snatch her sentiment back.

"you know i didn't mean to rip his arm off." pants as he attempts to recover. fails, and starts laughing again.

"i will kick you out-"

"okay, okay! i'll stop."

[y/n] stares at the odd, white stitches situated near the bear's right shoulder, traces the abstract lines of string before settling it beside her.

"you're not touching messi ever again."

kylian whines, latching onto his friend's arm, "come on, i'm more responsible now."

[y/n] sarcastically replies, "i believe you."

kylian lets her go, and pulls out two figurines. the girl beside lets out a gasp, and grabs her respective one.

"letting this go was the worst decision of my life," she hugs the kim possible doll as kylian twists the legs of ron stoppable.

"still functioning."

"and why wouldn't it be, kylian— i swear, you have an obsession with dismembering dolls-"

"i do not!"

"yes you do!"

the back and forth continues until they get tired, lips stretched wide and upwards, teeth showcased and glimmering in the dim, warm light of [y/n]'s room.

something distinct, yet minutely incinerating surges through their bones as the sun begins to sink below the horizon and the air loses it energy. doors of locked events in the past fly open with the key of nostalgia and gasping surprise.

from a picture of kylian in a leg cast and [y/n] signing it, to outdated souvenirs from when they both went to portugal with their parents.

a staggering reminder of what they once were, and wish to be.

hours pass like seconds, the box is now only one item empty- another sheet of paper, so much for 'not being able to put things into words'- and steaming mugs of coffee warm their hands.

"are you gonna read it, or should i?" kylian asks [y/n] as she takes a sip. her head juts towards him, and he obeys, ridding the box of its last content. it's only half an a4 sheet, and it's titled '5 questions to answer', which [y/n] laughs at when she's told. decorated with more stickers and weirdly drawn stickmen, courtesy of kylian.

"what's the first one?"

"'how's life like 10 years later? '"

a chuckle, light and forced, leaves [y/n]'s lips, and she shrugs, "i wouldn't be able to remember life 5 years ago, to be honest. i guess i was just studying and living life as it came. you?"

kylian takes time to think, "won the world cup, was on loan at psg. that's pretty much it."

"you say it as if winning the world cup is nothing, kylian!"

"i'm happy about it, but still salty over the last one."

"ah," [y/n] grins, picking up armless messi as she makes him dance in the air, "he's truly the goat, isn't he, messi?"

kylian is quick to disagree, "i may play with him at home, but ronaldo tops him, by far."

"i'll tell him you said that."

"how?" he cocks his head, "and even so, he's already aware."

doesn't give her a chance to reply, reading the next question beneath, "'is [y/n] still taller than kylian?' oh wouldn't past me be glad."

[y/n] huffs, "i'm still supposed to be taller, you just had an odd growth spurt."

"it was bound to happen."

looks at him disdainfully as he snickers, "next one, kylian."

"is kylian famous yet? like as famous as ronaldo?"

"i guess you already speak for yourself," [y/n] says, smiling, "i'm proud of you."

kylian returns the grin, gives the girl a look that forces her to avert her eyes elsewhere, "thank you."

"my pleasure. what's the one after?"

kylian straightens the sheet of paper, "asks if you're a graphic designer now."

[y/n] smiles and nods, "can strongly confirm."

"always been a picasso-" his words make the girl laugh, "-how's that going?"

"stressful at times, but honestly, it's fun. didn't feel pressured into pursuing a career i didn't want so, i'm not gonna lie, i had things easy."

"but that's good, right?"

"of course. never envisioned myself in the stem industry, don't know why."

"you were smart, though. too smart," kylian playful retorts. [y/n] slides out a chuckle, "it was obligated intelligence, not necessarily welcomed, you know."

"something smart people say," he rolls his eyes after, causing y/n to shove him.

"shut up, rich man, and read the last question."

kylian is humoured, shaking his head as he goes on to read the last words on the sheet. his amused expression falls and eyebrows raise as he is reminded of what he had written as the final question.

"oh."

"what is it, ky?"

inhales, then reads the words out loud, "'are we living together as promised? remember, it has to be a large mansion in the heart of paris!' "

[y/n] tries to formulate words, fails at doing so, and leaves the room silent.

as promised.

kylian remembers. frankly speaking, it was the only thing he wanted to remember because it was something that he looked forward to in the future.

then things fucked up, [y/n] had moved away from paris as a whole and kylian tried to fill his apartment with only one presence, but failed everytime.

"it's not too late, is it?"

he doesn't know what he's saying, his mouth moves on its own accord.

"what?" [y/n] sounds winded, feels the stare on her face and turns to look at who's guilty for it. her eyes are everywhere, all over his face, all at once. from his hardened eyes to his pouted, blushed lips.

looks at the kylian mbappé now, and sees the kylian mbappé then. aged, and that's it, but devious childishness still remains.

she doesn't realise that he has moved closer, and can suddenly see the fine lines of his textured skin, and feel his breath tickle her cheeks.

"what are you doing, kylian?" she whispers, can't muster a volume louder than that.

fingers pick at her stray braid, tucking it behind her back, "i don't know... should i stop? i will if you wan-"

"no," she cringes at how desperate she sounds, "it's okay. i want you to."

kylian's thumb traces the dip of her lip, out of breath as her eyes absorb every intake of air from him. [y/n] had always caught his eye, been the only one who had, and kylian knows he would be downright stupid to let her slip through his fingers again.

a ringing phone cuts through the static silence, and they both jolt violently in shock. [y/n] distances herself from him, numb all the way to her fingertips in anxiety, as kylian huffs, digging his pockets for the source of the loud sound.

picks it up, and [y/n] doesn't hear who exactly he's speaking to, but rules them as important when kylian's eyebrows furrow inwards and mumbles a chorus of 'yes's and 'okay's. ends the call just as quick as it started, and sighs, looking apologetic.

"i have to go."

"that's okay," ascends from the floor, and stretches out an arm to help kylian do the same. knows he's too heavy for the girl so he doesn't dump all of his weight on her, using his other arm to push him upwards.

grabs his coat from the hanger by the door, and slides into his shoes, but stops as he remembers something.

"kylian, where are you going?"

"one second, wait," shuffles into the room again, and immediately notices the ron stoppable doll lying on its back on the carpet. smiles, bends to pick it up, then shoves it into his pocket. looks at the room one more time, then closes the door behind him, ambling back to the front door.

"what did you forget?"

"nothing, i thought i had."

she doesn't look convinced but lets it go, opening the door.

"call me when you get home, okay?"

nods and says an 'i will', but remains stood on the doorstep.

he truly has no clue where his confidence surfaces from, but the next second, his lips are flush against [y/n]'s. they're soft, he notices, taste slightly of cherry and it's fucking addicting.

breaks it before he loses himself within it, a small smile upon his face as his mind becomes hazed and dizzy.

[y/n] is still, eyes wide, and the thrumming of her heartbeat upon her skin is... thrilling.

"see you later, [y/n]."

+_-

'dear [y/n],

i think letters are old fashioned and something people in the 17th century do, but for you, i guess i will suck it up and write one anyways.

i hope when you read this, you smile like you always do. have i told you that you look pretty when you smile? i'm only saying it once, and you'll never hear me say it again.

life with you is fun. i don't think i would be alive if God didn't put you with me, so i'm thankful everyday that you're my best friend. i really hope we stay friends forever, and that when i become the world's best footballer of all time (after cristiano ronaldo of course!), i can show off to everybody that you helped me get to the top of the top!!

anyways, this is getting too long and you know i don't write. so, bye bye, and see you in 10 years.

i love you.'

#work de aechii 🫧#kylian x reader #kylian imagines #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe oneshots #football imagines #footballer x reader #footballer x you #x black reader #x black fem reader #paris saint germain

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inthewindandinthewater · 1 year

Text

King of Frogs

A/n- Back with a one shot for Remus, this was my first time writing for him specifically and I'm a slightly mean Remus truther, so if you aren't a fan you probably won't like it :/. I didn't use y/n anywhere in this and it's second person perspective. Anyway I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: You and Remus share a little moment on a rainy day in the common room.

It was the sort of rainy evening that beckoned for a book and a mug of tea and cozy seat by the fireplace. The rain came down in sheets and the sound of it beating on the window pains could be heard echoing through the castle. The crackle of the fireplace and the feel of the plush, velvet couches of the Gryffendor common room served only to further the comforting ambience that encompassed the room.

There you sat, curled in the corner of the furthest couch from the porthole draped with a soft blanket and wrapped in your favorite cardigan. You had decided to take a break from your most recent read, a muggle novel about a murder on a train, and had taken up a much lighter tale for the evening. Between exams and the stress of being in your seventh year your brain needed the rest. So an old fairytale from your childhood would be perfect for a night such as this.

You had been so deeply entranced by the story that you hadn’t heard the soft footsteps echoing through the porthole and over to your spot on the couch. Only when the figure now looming over you cleared its throat did you think to look up. “Oh, hello Remus.” you smiled up at him, it was a pleasant surprise to see one of your dearest friends. “Mind if I sit?” He motions to the spot next to you at the other end of the loveseat and you oblige, “of course not!” you scoot over slightly to give the taller boy enough room to be comfortable.

“What are you reading?” He asks, peering over your shoulder to look at the pages. You laugh a little and shy away, certain that the boy whose book recommendations included Kafka and Hemmingway would find your choice of literature disappointing. “It’s nothing, just a story my mum read to me when I was younger” you replied. He took a closer look at the heading at the top of the page. “The Brothers Grimm” He read aloud, a bit incredulously. “Aren’t those a bit dark for children?” You looked up at him to see his face twisted a bit quizzically, almost as if he didn’t believe what you were saying. “My mum had a thing for horror, I guess” You shrugged off his comment. “I’ll say” he took the book from you and began reading aloud

“However, when he fell to the ground, he was no longer a frog but a prince with kind and beautiful eyes. So, in keeping with her father's wishes, she accepted him as her dear companion and husband” He read in a whimsical, floating voice that made you smile ever so slightly. As he continued to read you felt entranced by his soft voice and his warm brown eyes as they scoured the pages. Almost as if he felt your staring he ceased reading and looked over to you as he finished, “please tell me this is not your idea of romance” he drawled. You rolled your eyes and snatched the book away from him, the moment shattering like glass over the carpet. “I think it’s kind of romantic" you close the book, keeping finger in the page he'd been reading "she loves him despite his... condition” you explain. He shoots you a look “She doesn’t love him she accepts him, it’s not the same, and she only does that when he’s a human prince again. I hardly think she’s overcome anything, in fact she lucked out.” He says definitively. “And what would you know about love, Lupin?” You asked, poking him in the chest just over his heart. He grabs your wrist before you can fully retract it, “plenty” He says, his face just inches from yours. Against your wishes your cheeks heat up and your face feels unbearably hot; you pull your hand out of his grasp and shrink further into your seat on the couch. He moves away as well and you immediately regret the loss of contact.

“Would you?” He asked quietly. You spare a glance his way only to find him still looking at you intently, “would I what?” He sighs and shifts slightly, angling his body towards yours before continuing, “Love someone even if they weren’t like you” he says softly, almost as if he's afraid of your answer “even if they were terribly cursed.” His eyes bore into you, and you shift under the weight of them. “I think I could” You say, “if I cared enough for the person it wouldn’t matter if they had a curse on them.” He smiled softly at that, it’s barely there and a rare expression for the boy, you can’t help the little bit of pride that takes over you for causing it. “Good to know” He says, staving that information away for later and standing from his spot. “I should get to bed, thanks for the read though, frog kisser” He spits the name out before striding away.

“Remus Lupin, that is not what I said!” You call after him. “Isn’t it though?” He laughs back at you, his typical wolfish grin back on his face. “You are the worst, and you’re never invited to sit with me again!” you shoot back at him. “You wound me!” he responds, “and you don’t mean that, you like me too much” He’s leaning against the entrance of stairs to the boys dormitory now, grinning at how easily he always manages to get under your skin. “I mean it, I really do. Now go before I get Professor McGonagall to throw you out.” He chuckles at that, “Minnie would never, but as you wish” He turns then and begins to walk up the stairs, but not without a parting gesture tossed over his shoulder with a wave “Goodnight, frog kisser”

(Edit- I went back and changed some of Remus’ dialogue to be a little more true to character and less stuffy. I also fixed some spelling errors -3-)

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #the brothers grimm #no beta we die like remus #no use of y/n #self insert #the maruaders

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romione-trope-fest · 6 months

Text

Say Yes To Heaven

Fic Title: Say Yes To Heaven

Author Name: flaming-brown-witch

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

Brief Summary: Hermione and Ron dance during Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

Word Count: 1467

Rating: T

Any Trigger Warnings: none

If you dance, I’ll dance

And if you don’t, I’ll dance anyway

Give peace a chance

Let the fear you have fall away

- “Say Yes to Heaven,” Lana Del Rey

“Okay. Out with it, Ron.”

Ron, who had been resolutely avoiding Hermione’s eyes while they danced, finally looked down and sighed.

“Why are you acting so weird around Krum?” he demanded. Gritting his teeth and glaring in Viktor’s direction, he added, “Blushing every time he looks your way. You told me you weren’t interested in him anymore.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not.”

“Then what’s with the blushing?”

“Well,” she said slowly, choosing her words carefully, “it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, so it’s a bit of a shock, I suppose.”

“Shock doesn’t make people blush, Hermione.”

She grudgingly acknowledged to herself that Ron had a point. The last time she saw Viktor in person, he had given her quite the farewell snog in a cloistered corner of the Hogwarts entrance hall. Hermione had gained much from dating Viktor, and a part of her was sad to end the romance. It appeared that seeing Viktor again stacked uncomfortably on their last moment of bittersweet intimacy, even though she was quite sure those old emotions were long gone.

But there was no explaining this to Ron without ruining the night. And Hermione was determined to not ruin it, which had been surreally beautiful up until that point. She craved to soak up all the peace and joy she could with Ron before facing whatever was in store for them. So Hermione simply pursed her lips and said, “I think you’re reading into things.”

Ron stopped swaying to the music and let her go. “Oh, am I?”

Hermione felt herself edge towards anger, so she inhaled deeply. She moved her hands, which were resting on his shoulders, to clasp around his neck. “Look, I’m here because I want to dance with you. Not him.”

Her soft plea didn’t work. Ron stood stock still, arms firmly by his side, head turned as far as he could away from Hermione, and jaw tensing. Rejected and resigned, Hermione yanked away her hands and took several steps back.

“Fine then,” she snapped. “If you don’t want to dance, then maybe I should just dance with…”

Ron’s head swivelled in her direction, his hurt eyes quelling her vengeful words. Suddenly, the band began to play another waltz and the crowd cheered. Hermione recognised this as the Unicorn Waltz, one of the most popular wizard waltzes and one of the three choreographies she had learned for the Yule Ball. A whimsical idea took hold—an idea born, no doubt, from the love-filled magic of the celebration.

“Myself,” she finished.

Arms aloft as if holding an invisible partner, Hermione began to move to the music, her steps fluid and precise. She waltzed a circle around Ron, who was rooted to the spot, expression dumbfounded at her uncharacteristic behaviour. If others were staring, Hermione did not care. She continued to twirl and sway on her own, catching Ron’s eye when she could. His expression softened with each glance. Finally, she caught him letting out a laugh and a shake of his head. Hermione grinned at him cheekily before pressing on with her solo dance.

Suddenly, Hermione felt an arm snake behind her waist until its hand slid into the left one she had resting at her right hip. Ron’s left hand grasped her right one. He effortlessly fell into step with her, giving her a spin when the time was right. Hermione was floored. She noted that Ron could keep rhythm during their earlier lacklustre attempt, but as they continued to move in almost perfect harmony, she discovered how truly adept he was at dancing. It ached to know that she had been robbed twice of opportunities to learn this about him before.

As the song reached its end, Ron gave Hermione a final dip before slowly bringing her upright, eyes locked the entire time. He looked divine under the soft glow of the marquee lights, face and neck flushed from activity. They stood gazing at each other while the audience gave the band another round of applause. His flush grew.

“Wow,” Hermione whispered.

“Yeah.”

The band began to play another melody Hermione was familiar with, The Waltz of the Witching Hour. They wordlessly began moving again. After a few measures, Ron’s eyes flickered back to Krum.

“I remember you dancing these with that prick,” he grumbled before he could help himself.

“I would have much preferred to dance these with you first,” she responded, her mouth a thin line.

Ron seemed surprised by this admission, even though Hermione thought she had made the point quite clear in the past. Then his expression grew serious as he pulled her closer with an unexpected assuredness, leaving her slightly breathless.

“Then why didn’t you?” he murmured. “I did ask you after all…”

Hermione stiffened at both implications: that she would be one to go back on her word and that Ron’s Yule Ball invitation was in any way acceptable. “Not in the way that I would have liked.”

Ron’s lips tightened sheepishly into something between a smile and a grimace. “Better late than never?”

Hermione suppressed a laugh, wondering if he intended the double meaning. Though much remained unspoken between them, they had unmistakably entered a new chapter of emotional and physical closeness, slowly shedding themselves of weighty starts and stops of their past. They decided to surrender themselves to the music and the moment, delighting in the act of simply being and being together. A few fast-paced modern songs followed, during which Ron improvised a sequence of flailing limbs that nearly caused Hermione to collapse with laughter.

Eventually, it was time for another waltz. Hermione froze. “I don’t know this one.”

“Don’t worry,” said Ron, reaching for her. “I’ll teach you.”

Her lips curled as she assumed position and followed the basic step. “Ronald Weasley, of all people, teaching me wizarding dance. The world truly is ending.”

Ron let out an incredulous bark. “What a nasty joke.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Hermione said, scrunching her nose in a faux-abashed manner. “I suppose I do learn more things from you than I give you credit for.”

“Nah, that’s all you, Granger. My humour is not that dark.”

“It can be at times.”

Ron pondered this point for a moment, mouth eventually unfurling into a wicked grin. Hermione shook her head with a twisted smile, sure they were remembering the same jokes. “Yeah,” he ultimately conceded with a glint in his eye. “I suppose you’re right. As usual."

It was not long until Hermione had mastered the new steps. "Nice,” said Ron. “You’re a fast learner. Like I didn’t know that already.”

“It helps that I took ballet lessons all throughout primary school."

Ron made a face.

"What?”

“Ickle Hermione in a tutu, dancing ballet. I never would have imagined.”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s just so…girly. You’ve never struck me as the type to be into things like that.”

Hermione tensed, and Ron was quick to assure her that he didn’t mean it as an insult.

“I love that you’re not girly,” he added.

Hermione blushed and her lips eased into a smile. “You love it?” she teased.

“Well, yeah,” said Ron, his face a mirror of hers. “You wouldn’t be you then, would you?”

A modern slow song came on, and Hermione took the opportunity to rest her head on Ron’s chest. The last time her heart was this full was when they reconciled after his poisoning. “I do love ballet, though. I sort of miss it, now that I think of it.”

“Can I tell you a secret if you promise never to tell Fred or George? Or Harry. Or Ginny because she’d definitely blab to Fred and George.”

Hermione lifted her head, highly intrigued.

“Promise, Hermione.”

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

“I sort of…love ballet, too.”

“You do?”

“Don’t take the mickey,” warned Ron.

“I’m not, I’m just…asking to be allowed a tone of surprise,” Hermione joked.

“Yeah, that’s all right,” chuckled Ron. “Growing up we would see The Magical Nutcracker every year because dad always got tickets from the Ministry. It’s the wizard version of a Muggle ballet, I don’t know if you—”

“The Nutcracker, of course. It’s one of our most popular ballets.”

“It used to be my favourite Christmas tradition. You’ve never seen wizard ballet, have you?”

Hermione shook her head, still dazed by this revelation.

“Oh, just you wait, I bet it’s loads better than Muggle ballet.”

Hermione smiled at the optimism in Ron’s voice, holding no space for the possibility that they might never see The Magical Nutcracker together. She held on to his optimism like a lifeline. She wasn’t sure what would happen a year from then, a month, or even in ten minutes. But in that moment, none of it mattered. For she was in heaven, finally, with him.

#submission #romione #weasley weddings

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gregorovitch-adler · 1 year

Text

Chair

This is it. It is John's wedding day. After tonight, things would change for good. Not that they ever were the same as soon as I came back after my fake death, but society says a wedding makes everything official.

I would never see him wake up and come down from the bedroom upstairs as I play my violin by the window. Never hear his voice around me in this house, never get to laugh at his whimsical typing habit. Never get to find an excuse to invade his personal space.

How would I? He no longer lives here, and he would never visit as often as he was able to when I was planning his wedding.

The thought is unbearable. I exhale and shake my head as I try to think of something else - though Mrs Hudson being here, sitting on John's chair out of all places, and rambling about her married life when no one even asked doesn't help.

"My best friend, Margaret – she was my chief bridesmaid."

I roll my eyes and put my cup and saucer on the side table.

"We were going to be best friends forever, we always said that; but I hardly saw her after that."

For God's sake, stop rubbing it in! "Aren’t there usually biscuits?" I ask instead.

"I’ve run out."

"Have the shops?" I stand up and glance at the door pointedly. Anything to be away from human contact in any way, shape, or form for a few minutes.

But she continues her sob story anyway. "She cried the whole day, saying, 'Ooh, it’s the end of an era.'"

"I’m sure the shop on the corner is open," I say with a tight smile.

"She was probably right, really."

I close my eyes and wish I could be invisible.

"I remember she left early. I mean, who leaves a wedding early?" She shakes her head. "So sad."

Probably she was in love with you like I am with John. Ever considered that? I obviously don't say it out loud.

Though I've always thought marrying the head of an incredibly famous cartel in America was a rather stupid thing to do on Mrs Hudson's part.

Not that it matters now.

"Anyway, you’ve got things to do." So much filtering I have to do for every damn human interaction. Would rather be alone.

No, that's not quite true: would rather be alone with John, but he doesn't want the same thing. Certainly not. Gotta distract my mind again.

"No, not really. I’ve got plenty of time to -"

"Biscuits," I cut her off. She finally gets up from that chair and walks to the door of the flat.

"I really am going to have a word with your mother."

"You can if you like. She understands very little." Positively nothing about my sentiments.

I close the door on her - John would've given me an earful if he were here (not again!) - and turn around. I let out a sigh and turn to look at the chair Mrs Hudson just emptied.

John's armchair. My John - at least in my mind.

Once upon a time, I'd had a feeling that there was a slight probability that he felt the same way. Clearly, I was proven wrong when I saw him with Mary that night.

Even more so when he continued to be engaged to her, after having forgiven me for faking my death - at least on the surface.

Perhaps it was a miscalculation on my part. He never felt the same and never will. He's in love with Mary.

I can do nothing but be civil with her and respect John's choice.

However, as I stare at John's chair in this flat, I feel as if a piece of John himself is still here with me.

I have to be at the wedding hall in an hour, being the best man of the wedding, so I force myself to not become one with that chair.

I turn around to make my way to my bedroom to get dressed.

Into Battle.

***

Prompt Chair by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @gaylilsherlock @lookingforlifeoutthere @peanitbear @a-victorian-girl @calaisreno @curlyjohnlock @missdeliadili @kettykika78 .

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #john watson #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes/john watson #sherlock x john #sherlockian #sherlock headcanon #ficlet #new ficlet #30 days of sherlock september 2023 #angst #pining sherlock holmes #canon compliant #s3 e2 The Sign of Three #pov: sherlock holmes #first person #present tense #fic writing

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

Note

I'm off to fringe for a few days soon, do you have any recommendations on who to see this year?

I have no idea of what kind of comedy you like, but I do have a few! Although if you ask me in a week I may have more, as my husband will have had chance to see more and rec them to me; I'll be going up later in the month. But I have seen some in preview and heard great things about others.

Steffan Alun: Free Stand-Up Will Blow Your Mind. 11.45am, Just the Tonic at the Mash House.

Very good show this year, and when I saw it in final preview a woman in front of me very literally cried with laughter at one point, and had to take her glasses off to dry her face. It's about approaching middle age and wondering if you're a role model, and it's his usual style: very anecdotal, lil bit moral and political, very optimistic, and very Welsh. Owing to some Fringe Bollocks he's not in a great time slot, so every audience member is very appreciated this year, because it's a fantastic show that deserves more coverage than it's going to get (why do we even HAVE morning time slots...)

Josh Elton: Mountain Jew. 13.45, Brewdog

Another one I've seen in preview! Josh is a Welsh Jewish comedian and his show this year is about labels, and the benefits and drawbacks of them (eventually examining his own). It's charming and irreverent and makes good points while being hilarious.

Cerys Bradley: Not Overthinking Things 2019. 15.30, the Alcove at Laughing Horse @ Bar 50

A Tumblr darling, if only Tumblr kept up with comedy outside of famous TV comedians. Cerys is NB and autistic and had one of my favourite shows last year - it was about how they joined a women's rugby team and had to navigate being unfit, socially awkward, and trans. It was amazing. According to Steff, this year's show is even better, so it's first on my own list to watch when I get the chance. (Also Cerys is an absolute delight on a personal level. This is rare in a comedian. I mean, so is everyone else on this list, but eh.)

Jake Baker: Alone Together. 17.30, Just the Tonic at the Caves.

Another I saw in preview and Very Enjoyed! Gently political but charmingly whimsical and extremely funny, and I saw a relatively early preview so it'll be even better now. Jake has a really lovely stage presence, kind of sweet and slightly shy, which means you feel at ease but are therefore floored all the more when the bigger hooks come. Really good show.

Priya Hall: Grandmother's Daughter. 16.20, Monkey Barrel 2.

God, I remember when Priya did her fifth ever gig. At the end the MC, pro Welsh comic Matt Rees, got up to see her off the stage, and once she'd sat down he went "So...was that really your fifth gig?" And when she said yes, he said "Because... I don't know if anyone has told you yet, but... it's considered courtesy among comedians if, when you're starting out, you remember to be shit for a while."

We knew she'd be going places, is what I'm saying

Anyway, she's doing her debut! And I believe it's about her quest with her girlfriend to become parents, while talking about the role her Indian grandmother played in her Welsh family. I haven't seen it yet but I intend to.

Sooz Kempner: Y2K Woman. 15.45, Underbelly, Bristo Square

They've all been free or pay what you want so far, but this is the first of two ticketed shows in the Big Four that I'll flag up. £11 a standard ticket, £10 a concession, but with the Big Four keep an eye on the specials board - plus they often do two for one offers on tickets on Mondays and Tuesdays, so see if her show is included in that.

It's about late 90s/early 00s nostalgia, and also the fact that she's starring in a really interesting Doctor Who mixed media spin off project atm that hardcore Doctor Who fans hate and are furious about for reasons of being boring nerds with zero fun.

Alice Fraser: Twist. 20.30, Underbelly, Bristo Square

Honest to God the woman is just. A master. A maestro. A goddess of comedy. She could read the phone book and you'd be in hysterics, plus rolling around on the floor. You could receive news that every single person you'd ever met and liked had all been accidentally jettisoned into space in a freak accident involving a Tesla crashing into a SpaceX rocket, and you'd still laugh yourself sick at her show. She's breathtaking. Go and see her.

#comedy #asks

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highfantasy-soul · 7 months

Text

Moments I loved from NATLA Episode 4 - Into the Dark ❤️️❤️️

Aang and Iroh interacting more - love that they're not friendly to each other, per se, but it builds a foundation that makes their later respect make sense

The Earth Kingdom being harsh with their 'fallen foes' is nice to seed in here as in the animated version (season 1), most of the 'bad' stuff was relegated solely to the Fire Nation

The Earth Kingdom is no pushover and it's nice to see that early

Sokka defending his dad "My dad would have never done what you did" even after he commiserated with the Mechanist about his dad 'not valuing' what Sokka could bring to the table.

Though Sokka is frustrated that his dad doesn't see "him", he knows his dad is an honorable man doing his best and when Sai tries to use him as an example of 'doing the wrong thing just to survive', love that Sokka calls him on it

SECRET TUNNEEELLLL!!!

Like them introducing this now - all old buildings have secret passages - it's just a law

Teo's "its time to fight!" attitude - love it. He's so ready to stop cowering and wants to hit back

Flopsy statues!!!!!

Rolly ball throne? Nice touch

"Bumi? BUMI!!" :D

"You did 🤨" Love how Aang keeps his "I'm just gonna say the truth and I don't care if that's 'not allowed' I'm gonna do it anyways because your social rules are stupid" attitude

Katara's water pouch!!

Love the shake in Jet's voice as he tells Katara "I am nothing like the firebenders"

Katara's assessment is shallow on her part, but the core has a ring of truth - no, freedom fighters aren't the same as their oppressors, but when you start harming your own people to hurt the enemy, then you really have lost sight of what's right and wrong - why you're fighting.

FREEZE JET'S ASS!

I love Jet, especially this version of him, but yeah, no touchy

And Katara is absolutely right: Jet might have helped her through her block, but her power, that's all hers.

What are you going to do, Zuko?? What choice will you make!!??

Love that we're getting this choice of his here in Omashu

Bumi's puns 😭 kill me now - though very canon accurate

Like the vibe that everyone just has to laugh as to not anger him - there's less of a whimsical madness vibe to Bumi here and a more serious - yeah, this guy is our leader vibe that's quite unsettling

The tonal shift with Bumi did give me pause, but I like how the writers kept the jokes, the games, his eccentricities, but shifted the vibe to make them darker

In the cartoon, whimsy might work, but if you think about it realistically, that leadership style would NOT work during a war - a 100 year war, at that.

HIPPIIEESSSS!!!!

Sokka getting into that maraca - you let your little musical heart fly

"What are you doing here?" "We're doin' what we're doin'" :)

Oma and Shu lesbian supremacy!!!

Always get chills when this story is told

Lol Sokka's "There's no such thing as angry spirits." Right before the episode where they're kidnapped by an angry spirit XD

Love the switch up of the rocks not really being the path out - keeping us animated show fans on our toes as to what the lesson will be this time

Everything about the Earth Kingdom soldier's interaction with Iroh - all of it is just so good.

The cartoon glossed over Iroh's warmongering past - but he did do terrible things that hurt so many people. No, 'it was war, I was a soldier' is not an acceptable excuse (we didn’t accept it with Jet, so why the double standard for a ROYAL MILITARY GENERAL??)

The funeral scene

Leaves from the Vine

Zuko offering a soft and kind memory of Liu Ten instead of just talk about him being a soldier

Zuko sitting next to Iroh so he won't be alone!!!!!!!!!

The conversation between Katara and Sokka in the cave where she talks about how Jet helped her and Sokka how Sai helped him - then Katara reminding Sokka that when he was forced into a leadership position for the Southern Water Tribe, he didn't have anyone to help him through that

The concept of us all needing people to help us through our journeys is so important and really comes around at the end of the episode and just through the entire series

BADGERMOOOLLLEEE!!!!

Is it bad that all I could think about was how cute it was the entire time it was on screen?

Dallas Liu is so. Freaking. Good. At. His. Stunts!!!!

And the first mention of the theme Zuko struggles with of compassion being weakness!

Sokka's little 'thanks!' as Katara saves him from the badgermole XD

Seriously, all the little touches in Ian Ousley's performance are great

Idk why Sokka assumed the badgermole was a man, that's clearly a dignified lady

The power of sibling love guiding the badgermole was a great alteration from the OG - if they can be controlled through music, they can definitely respond to emotions

Bumi's whole speech here - and his willingness to get crushed - is what brought me around on this portrayal of him

He's right: it's a game where you have to make impossible choices - you have to fight even when you don't want to (a much more poignant message for Aang than 'look at things a different way')

The power of friendship saves the day!!!

"You CAN rely on your friends - and that's the only way I'm going to save the world: with my friends"

"You think like a child" (derogatory) "Is that really so bad?" (genuine)

Bumi made Appa's whistle!!! 😭😭😭😭

One last time Zuko chooses protecting his uncle over capturing the Avatar 🥲

"Everything I need is right here on this boat" 😭😭😭

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

#natla #netflix atla #atla #avatar the last airbender #netflix avatar #into the dark

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madssy-moop · 3 months

Text

UNDERTALE AU INFODUMP YAYAYAYAYA

HOPETALE

GENERAL OVERVIEW!! (SO FAR)

HOPE, the main trait this universe revolves around. An au in which monsters have given up HOPE, and have built their society underground with no HOPE of getting to the surface at all.

SADIST points: rather than physical damage similar to LOVE, this is emotional damage. While you don’t actually physically hurt anyone, you may emotionally damage a monster. The more SADIST points you get, the easier it becomes to hurt others. This can cause a-lot of turmoil in the underground, ultimately causing its downfall. Your SOUL becomes less vulnerable the more you hurt others. And you grow stronger.

The SOUL of HOPE is a comforting orangey yellow.

SOME Monster SOULS may have minuscule cracks in them, resulting in the beginnings of them FALLING DOWN. This is a commonality in this hopeless world.

————

The main cast

Frisk. (Their au name will be Hope.)

Fell down Mt Ebott on December 2nd, xxxx.

Soul trait; HOPE

*The shadow of the ruins looms above, filling you with HOPE.

HP FULLY RESTORED

As they traverse the underground they have the CHOICE to restore hope in monster society, or destroy their last dreams.

While GENOCIDE is a choice in this au; it will typically only result in monsters bending to your will and giving up immediately in combat (with the acceptation of UNDYNE, who still refuses to give up the title of UNDYNE THE UNDYING.) If you kill everyone it is known as a TRUE GENOCIDE. But theres really not much point in doing it… unless your a sadist.

Toriel.

She has begun to build society in ruins. She pretends not to care about frisk in this au initially, she has lost hope that she can save anybody. Froggitts in business suits. :D Funny idea. The abandoned city in the ruins is now flourishing under her rule!

Restoration route— frisks show her that she can save life’s by showing her the city shes built up full of life! Full of monsters who could’ve fallen down with a community our purpose. The future is bright, she just has to believe it. It fills her with hope.

Ruin route— frisk shows her that everything is her fault, she is the reason why all those children are gone. You drain her hope and gain SADIST points, the more you see these monsters in emotional pain, the more you thirst for it.

C̷o̷m̷i̷c̷ Sans (his au name will be belief!sans.)

His brother is what mattered to him. He lost hope that they will ever truly be happy, whether it’s underground or on the surface. Humor doesn’t appeal to him, and frisks attempts to joke with him are futile. Serious. He has many jobs. Gotta pay the bills. He tries to ignore you as much as possible. Papyrus attempts to help you in both REST and RUIN routes, he has HOPE already! Whatever you do do not call him my his full name. COMIC SANS. He will flip out, completely throwing out his new ‘work loving’ persona.

Restoration Route— papyrus tips you off, saying that he you ultimately get him to laugh in some form after nagging him ALOT. I mean ALOT. You bother him at all his jobs in Snowdin SENTRY station (lookout for misconduct instead of humans), The snowdin shop, librarby, hotel, and even grillbys!! Its a miracle on how he keeps up with work.

Ruin Route— You make note of all the details he missed on the job.. papyrus is like ‘thats not… really what I wanted you to do!!’ But then you take it too far and get him fired for snapping at you. He thinks he can never find hope in this hell. Sadist points!!!

Papyrus

Papyrus hasn’t lost his spark! He believes he can make a life as the most popular dude in Snowdin! Though.. his brother had been acting worrisome.. he becomes friends with Alphys! Met her at the dump, tried to give her sone HOPE. Anyways his main arch consists of him trying to convince you to make sans laugh, like the old days when he would play pranks and such. He is pleased if you play along, and a little like the origin UT when u don’t!! He is as whimsical as ever. But he doesn’t have his battle body. No party’s happened in a world of no-hope.

Restoration route— He meets frisk the beginning of snowdin. He quickly approaches attemptong to make friends, in his ramblings he mentions his brother and his woes, how he used to do all sorts of pranks and blah blah blah, but then suddenly stopped one day a few years ago. What he would give to see him laugh one more time.. so now you go from job to job that sans has attempting to make him laugh via harmless jokes, pranks, comments, papyrus is seen through the window signaling you on whether your jokes are good or bad!!! Anyways since youve played along you made sans laugh! Congrats. Papyrus is happy. And blooming with hope! And so is sans.

Ruin route— He meets frisk the beginning of snowdin. He quickly approaches attemptong to make friends, in his ramblings he mentions his brother and his woes, how he used to do all sorts of pranks and blah blah blah, but then suddenly stopped one day a few years ago. What he would give to see him laugh one more time.. so now you go from job to job that sans has but.. you dont make him laugh. You put more work on him, tell him that hes not good at his jobs to the point where he suddenly snaps. He gets fired because of it. And is in misery now, thinking he will never be good enough. Papyrus still becomes your friend but.. hes a little weary of you.. +SADIST POINTS!!

#undertale #undertale au #sans au #sans #sans undertale #papyrus #frisk undertale #frisk dreemurr #frisk #infodump #information

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