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pshcomforts · 1 month

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➳ love lee | psh.

idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“so lovely day, so lovely”

synopsis: you and your idol boyfriend, sunghoon decide to do the tiktok dance challenge — ‘love lee’

warnings/content: written in third pov. cursing. not proofread. fluff! reader’s a little mean but sunghoon likes it (lol). hoon is down bad <3

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 1.1k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: love lee by akmu

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:47 ────|─────────────── -2:11

the day dawned on coming to high noon. y/n and sunghoon comfortably laid against each other while mindlessly on their phones.

“hey hoon?” she called to him.

“hm?”

“let’s do this dance,” she sheepishly said. the girl shoved her phone to his face with a shy grin.

“this dance?”

hoon moved the phone away with an eyebrow raise. “didnt sunoo do this dance?” he snorted.

y/n rolled her eyes with a soft smile forming afterward. “yes… but i want to see you do it too!”

“so you want me to do the dance, or you want to dance to it together?”

his lips curled into a sweet smile as he watched his girlfriend get flustered.

“either one…”

“let’s do the dance together, gorgeous.”

y/n snickered in laughs as a response while smacking the boy multiple times.

“whatever loser, let’s just learn it together.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

minutes passed by within seconds and the furthest they have gotten were seven drafts saved.

“hoon, you’re doing that wrong!”

“no i’m not, you are!” he teased.

sunghoon’s loud laugh boomed throughout the apartment as he enjoyed watching her get slowly frustrated.

“park sunghoon! you always do good in your tiktoks, why aren’t you getting this?”

“clearly, you’ve never seen the behind the scenes of my tiktoks; and plus, are you really telling your idol boyfriend how to dance properly?”

he cracked a smile while watching her roll her eyes, half playfully and half out of irritation.

“you know, for someone who’s an idol, the way you still struggle on some parts is a bit disappointing.” y/n teased back with a sneer.

hoon huffed out a laugh while saying, “come on, don’t be like that, gorgeous.”

she couldn’t help but feel her lips automatically turning into a smile from the nickname. she sent a soft smack to his arm while telling him to just retry again.

and so they did.

but in all honesty, he was purposefully messing up just to be a teasing ass to his girlfriend. he enjoyed doing tiktok videos with her; watching her become serious over something so small was a euphoric feeling to his heart.

“hoon…,” she said in a threatening tone. her head slowly turned to the boy who was holding back a smile. “stop messing up!”

y/n sent a hand flying to his arm again, but he pushed it away. “hey, i’m just trying to give you video drafts so you can look back at them when you miss me!” he defended with a wide beam.

“you’re so annoying loser!” she screamed back in the same energy. her grin became just as wide as his as their giggles mixed together in the living room.

“okay, okay! one more y/n, i swear it’ll be good this time.”

the sound blasted through the room again after the last eight attempts. y/n and her smitten boy subtly admired each other through the phone camera as they danced together.

✩ ‘spell L-O-V-E-L-E-E’ ✩

within seconds before the video ended, the handsome boy quickly moved in to plant a kiss on his girlfriend’s cheeks. the recording came to a stop as soon as her face lit up in shock.

hoon licked his lips before huffing out howls of laughter. his eyes sewed shut while he grabbed his stomach to sustain the pain welling inside. “y..your reaction,” he wheezed out whilst giving a bright smile.

y/n stood there in shock for a second. it was just a kiss on the cheek but it was still very sudden.

“hoon!!” she yelled, groaning out slightly annoyed sighs. many smacks on the arms were sent to him as he just continued to laugh it out.

“okay! okay! i’m sorry!” he responded, trying to get her back in his arms.

she pushed the boy away — “nuh uh! that’s enough for today!”

he huffed out more laughter as his fangs went out on display. “let’s rewatch that,” he suggested with an eye smile.

“no!”

“oh come on!”

“hoon, i’m serious! why do you have to be like this..” y/n said, letting an annoyed expression show her tone.

“okay finee, i’m sorry” said the boy who was still giggling. his arms flailed around her body to engulf her into a hug. “i’m sorry, like actually.”

he sent pouty lips to his girlfriend, causing a grossed out groan to be heard from her. “how are you so cute and yet so ugly and annoying at the same time??”

sunghoon chuckled out his laughs before placing a kiss on her cheek. “maybe because i’m your boyfriend?”

“yeah that’s what you think.”

his head whipped to her — “am i not your boyfriend?”

“i don’t know hoon, are you??” she challenged, a mischievous grin forming on her face.

he quickly ruffled her hair before nodding with a slightly disgusted look. “fine fine, be petty like that. i know you’re my girlfriend anyway.”

“who said i was?”

the small teasings got to the male as his hands placed itself on y/n’s chin to grab her attention, and placing a peck on the lips. her eyes slightly widened.

“did you really just kiss me because of that?”

“yeah, want me to do it again?” he teased with a smile. his head swooped in to place a longer kiss on her lips, only for her to dodge the kiss with a head turn.

“Y/N!”

“NOPE!”

she ran to their shared bedroom, jumping onto the bed for sunghoon to jump on as well. his eyes lingered on hers as he gently smiled.

“you got nowhere to go now.” he broke out, eyebrows raising in satisfaction.

“you’re right..” y/n said in defeat.

her hands instantly went to his stomach, leaving tickling touches around his body as he squirmed around.

“AH!” he yelled, back now laying on the bed as he screeched out another cry for help — “Y/N!”

the girl laughed to herself in amusement, watching him fall apart with just tickles. “this is what you get for ruining my videos!” she grinned ear to ear as her hands still went around his body.

a few more minutes passed and they were still quietly giggling with each other. y/n stopped her tickles once she figured hoon received enough.

they were cuddled up in each other’s arms as his hands played around her nails, leaving nonexistent scratches as she was comfortably settled with him.

“wanna go make dinner?”

“in a bit, i’m comfortable.”

he chuckled at her response before pulling her in closer.

they stayed in the same position for a few minutes longer, ultimately deciding on going into the kitchen to finally make dinner.

the night ended with the two finishing dinner, and then in warm hugs on the couch for a late night movie — both falling asleep to the sound of the film playing before humming in contentment.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

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nikosama13 · 17 days

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One piece boys reacting to you cooking for them! (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji x Reader)

Description: One piece boys reactions to your wonderful cooking skills/ the first time cooking for them.

Side Notes: Hello my loves! This is just a short mini post to keep up with you guys. Lowkey rushed and I wish I could of added more detail, I might later. (Probably spelling errors + my requests should be open) (づ￣ ³￣)づ

ALSO ☞︎ Comment if you would like a part 2 with other various one piece men.

☞ Minor cursing

\Part 2 here! (Shanks, Law x Reader)/

Consider the following..?

Enjoy the read!

~~~

Luffy:

Automatically thought your cooking was better than Sanji’s. The first time you presented him a meal his eyes popped out of his head from the flavor. It was meat that you gave him, which you took a very long time to prepare. (What did you expect.. a salad?) Cooking was like your secret talent, however you left most of it to Sanji since that was his job in the first place. “Mmm. This is great y/n, thanks!” he smiled and proceeded to devour his plate, licking it clean and making sure to not leave a single crumb behind. In the end you couldn't stop smiling that you made your little ball of energy a meal he enjoyed.

~~~

Zoro:

Zoro wasn’t really a foodie like his captain but when it came to you he didn’t hesitate to try everything you made. Especially if it was just made for him. The very first time you tried cooking for him it ended with him asking for more. He originally thought you were feeding him some of Sanji’s leftovers in the fridge. (Hidden from Luffy) When you told him that you cooked it earlier in the day he stopped eating. Worried, you asked him if he liked it and he responded with “You made this..?” and you nodded slowly. “This is fucking delicious.” You immediately smiled and giggled, relieved there wasn’t anything wrong. “I’ll take some more if you got any left, baby..”

~~~

Sanji:

After being with him for a while you’d obviously pick up on a couple of things, he was the Straw Hats cook after all. Some things you took note of was how he’d chop the onions or dice the tomatoes. Usually he would have you tasting his food but soon enough, on one sunny day he found himself being the taste-tester. You nervously placed down the dish of Seafood Rice (or whatever food you want it to be) and set down a fork and knife for him, he gently smiled. He knew not to judge too harshly since this was one of your first times cooking in a while. Then he took a fork full of it, chewed and swallowed. “Darling, with all honesty, this is one of the best dishes I’ve had in a while.” He continued to eat and cleared the plate. “You should cook more often honey.” ~~~

Finish Line!

(Comment if you would like a part 2 with other various one piece men.) Consider following..? Thank you so much for reading!

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poohsources · 9 months

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🐝 * ― 𝑴𝒀 𝑰𝑴𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺. ( all of these quotes are taken from the infamous fanfic with the same name and edited slightly by me so they don't include wrong spelling and grammar. feel free to change things if needed. )

❛ i'm not related to gerard way but i wish i was because he's a major fucking hottie. ❜ ❛ well ... do you want to go with me? ❜ ❛ hey, it's ok i don't like him better than YOU! ❜ ❛ what the fuck do you think you are doing? ❜ ❛ my name's [ first ] [ last ], although most people call me vampire these days. ❜ ❛ no! no! but you don't understand! ❜ ❛ what is it that you desire, you ridiculous dimwit? ❜ ❛ i'm sorry i got all mad at you but i thought you cheated on me. ❜ ❛ you might think i'm a slut but i'm really not. ❜ ❛ why are you doing this? ❜ ❛ fuck off. you know i fucking hat the color pink anyway, and i don't like fucked up preps like you. ❜ ❛ well if you wanted honesty that's all you had to say. ❜ ❛ you look kawaii, girl. ❜ ❛ [ name ] i love you will you have sex with me? ❜ ❛ god, you are so fucked up you fucking bastard. ❜ ❛ why can't i just be ugly or plain like all the other girls and preps here? ❜ ❛ why would you wanna be ugly? ❜ ❛ i just wanna be with you, okay [ name ]. ❜ ❛ why couldn't satan have made me less beautiful? ❜ ❛ i'm good at too many things! WHY CAN'T I JUST BE NORMAL? IT'S A FUCKING CURSE! ❜ ❛ now i just wanna fucking be with you. i fucking love you! ❜ ❛ so i guess you're a prep or a christina or what now? ❜ ❛ oh my satan you have to buy that outfit! ❜ ❛ as you can see i gave the room a makeover. what do you think about it? ❜ ❛ i bet he's having a mid-life crisis! ❜ ❛ no one fucking understands me! ❜ ❛ no! wait! it's not what it fucking looks like! ❜ ❛ you mean you'll go fuck him, won't you? ❜ ❛ okay you can go now, see ya cunt. ❜ ❛ but what about me? you're not gonna break up or anything, are you? ❜ ❛ but you are so sexy and wonderful anyway, [ name ]. why would you need it? ❜ ❛ excuse me but you're going to have to leave. ❜ ❛ i love you too. i'll ... i'll see you in hell. ❜ ❛ this is unlogical and does not make any sense! ❜ ❛ what the fuck happened? am i like dead now? ❜ ❛ omfg, i can get you back together. ❜ ❛ whatever you do, don't blame them, you jerk. ❜ ❛ yeah, i was just trying to make sure you were still the same person. ❜ ❛ what if you don't like me anymore cause we're from different times? ❜ ❛ i knew who you were all along. ❜

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #roleplay meme #sentence starters #fanfic starters #rph #type: meme #( ngl i've had this in my drafts for a long time because i started reading the fic as a joke again )#( and well ... it does have some quotes that can be fun starters so here we go )

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romanticaacore · 5 months

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This fic was inspired by the song "My Way of Life" by Frank Sinatra. I first thought of giving this to Jing Yuan because I can also see him in this theme but I couldn't resist Tartaglia. I'm just trapped under his spell. He is my whole world...!! ♥️

"You're not just going to leave me here like this, are you?"

The man would come and find you every single day and would always keep you company. You did everything in your power to keep him at bay, to throw some weak excuse that you were busy. Heavens, there were times when you would flat out tell him that you did not want to be with him.

Tartaglia was a man who appreciated honesty. He valued good and true communication, he did not have the time and patience when it came to mind games, especially when it came towards the things and people that mattered to him.

And against his better judgment, you had managed to carve yourself deep into his heart. He did not understand how or why it happened, it just did. It was cruel, how you avoided him. It felt as though you grabbed a sharp blade and stabbed him straight into his chest, the air being knocked out of lungs every single time you would reject his advances.

But what stung most of all was the fact that you were as a matter of fact, not honest with him.

He could tell that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. If you truly wished to do nothing with him, you would be much harsher towards him. He knew you were not a pushover, you could take care of yourself and yet he still wished to take care of you. The lingering touches, the longing gazes, the way in which your hand fit so perfectly in his own was otherworldly. You were made specifically for him and him only. He could not have crafted a person so perfect, someone who both satisfies and calms him.

Someone who makes him feel human.

Reaching out towards you Tartaglia took your wrist and held it close. He pressed the palm of your hand against his chest, straight against his heart and he kept you there, his blue eyes piercing your own.

You belonged to him. He belonged to you.

He cursed the fact that he was a Harbinger. If he was not in the Fatui, he was sure that the two of you would already be together. That was the only reason you avoided him, the fear of being associated with someone like him was too great.

And he could not fault you for that.

Salty tears clouded your vision as you stared at the handsome man, his back straight like the soldier that he was. Everything about him was prim and proper, but in a deadly way, like a weapon ready for the bloodiest battle.

"You are a killer." you said, voice quivering and yet still giving into his touch.

"I am." he confessed. There was no point in denying it, he could not hide anything from you.

He did not want to hide anything. Not anymore.

Standing before you was not Tartaglia, Childe, the 11th Fatui Harbinger. In this very sacred moment he laid himself for you, his soul and heart bared completely for you and no one else. He was being selfish, so horribly selfish. But damn it all, he wanted you. His ambitions were sky high but he could not give you up.

He did not want anyone else by his side. It was going to be either you or no one.

His lips hovered over your own, threatening to steal the many kisses he promised to claim a long time ago.

You were not sure if you could stop him.

"You are not a creature capable of such love."

"I can learn. For you."

There it was, that horrible confidence, dare you say arrogance even. Who did he think he is? How dare he do this to you - waltzing in your life and staking his claim to your heart? You wanted to slap him, to kick him, to show him just how angry you were. You wanted to cry and yell and to kiss him. You wanted to leave him breathless, to make him ache for you but was it worth it? To leave everything you knew, your whole life behind to go see the world with this man, this glorious, wonderful man?

Knowing him, he would take your beating without any complaints.

It was hard to be in love. But it was even harder to love a man like him.

#genshin impact #childe #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia #genshin #genshin harbingers #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #gi tartaglia

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captain-mj · 3 months

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Love Potion <3

Hey, think of the consent issues you can think of when a person is under a love spell. Take that into consideration moving forward. Keep an eye on Roach.

Soap had been wanting to be part of the guard since he was old enough to hold a sword. He finally had been accepted, though it took a while to be able to. Not just because his age, but also his history of trying to sneak into the guard made them not believe him when he was actually of age.

Mostly, he was looking for purpose in life. Some thing outside of himself that he could believe in. And what better than protecting his people from the evil things that tried to destroy his kingdom?

Elves were constantly going to war with them. They seemed to despise them constantly and Soap did find their looks to be… alarming. The long pointed ears, the odd makeup most wore as well as the unnatural paleness they had. Being as they were the main sources of most magic as well, Soap found himself hating them.

At the current moment, the current evil creature terrorizing them was a weird thing that stalked the woods at night. Soap was not sure if it even existed but he knew that most of the citizens of their city thought that and in the end, that was really what was important. Even if his presence was more symbolic, he eased their minds.

Soap got up and started to pull on his armor. It was not a full suit, as he likely would not be going into battle today. Maybe some basic sparring but he wasn’t up for a lot at the moment. He planned to mostly just patrol and see if he could maybe get a glimpse at his Lieutenant.

Simon “Ghost” Riley.

Everyone was interested in him, but he only paid his Lord and Lady attention. He was quiet and sharp when he did talk and he struck both fear and… something a little closer to infatuation in almost everyone he met. Something about his presence…

Soap was not immune to this effect. Not one bit. Sometimes, it felt like he got it more than anyone. When Ghost was in the room, it felt like the only way he could breathe is to look at him.

He was sure that everyone felt this way a little bit.

Soap finished his musing and left their barracks. He went straight to his favorite baker. In all honesty, the only retreat he was interested in was Roach’s company. He was lovely company, though he was cursed to be unable to speak. Soap had never seen a nice, cooler person. Even if he had a strange choice in headwear, constantly having a mask on to cover his mouth and a helmet on.

Roach noticed him and he perked up, quickly scuttling off to get him a cup of coffee and some form of…

Soap wasn’t sure exactly. Just that it was a form of bread and had meat on it. He was skeptical until he took a bite.

“Roach, if i was allowed, I’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

Roach blushed a bright cherry red and smiled even brighter somehow visible through his mask. He took his money, counting it quickly before dropping it in the cup he used for collection.

Soap didn’t understand why so many found him off putting. Despite his curse, he was pleasant. He made idle chat, careful not to interrupt his business, just there to enjoy his company.

“MacTavish.” Ghost whistled and Soap quickly turned around to look up at him.

“Lieutenant! Need something?” Soap smiled politely, hands behind his back in a perfect parade pose.

Ghost glared at him. Presumably. He never took off his headgear, meaning no one ever saw his face.

Soap thought about it. Had drawn different versions of him more times than he could count to see if he could possibly get close. Like always, Ghost drew all of Soap’s attention.

“No…” Ghost brushed him off and got some food from Roach. “Hey, Sanderson. Nice to see you.”

Roach fluttered his eyelashes at him and quickly made him a cup of tea and a… scone? Soap was man enough to admit that he didn’t actually know the words for most of what Roach sold.

Ghost… lifted his mask.

For a moment, a bright beautiful moment, Soap thought he’d take it off completely. That he would see the scarred gruff man beneath.

What could he expect? Salt and pepper hair? Stubble? Dozens of scars? He was probably much older than Soap.

Ghost lifted his mask to just barely reveal his mouth as he started eating. He dipped his biscuit into his tea before taking a bite. When he paid, he gave Roach a thankful grunt and ruffled Roach’s hair.

Roach looked enamored, face bright red. He noticed Soap watching and quickly started to clean, looking very embarrassed.

Soap tried to ignore the jealousy he felt at this entire situation and made himself scarce. Ghost was too obsessed with his job to ever entertain any of them. Least of all Soap. But seeing the rare moments where he gave out affection and it wasn’t directed at him…he felt so ignored.

During the day, Soap mostly stood in one place and looked intimidating. At night, he hesitated between going back to his barracks and guarding the house of the town’s lady and lord. Logically, he should go to the barracks as he hadn’t been told explicitly he was on the night shift but it had been roughly four days.

Just to be safe, he went ahead and went to their home.

Home was… well. It was basically a small scale castle. He thought it was honestly a little grandiose for his taste.

There was no one around. Just a very soft silence.

Soap gritted his teeth. Yeah. He was definitely supposed to watch them. Why the previous watch had not waited for someone to relieve them was beyond Soap entirely.

He went inside to check if they were okay, but was unable to find his lady or lord.

It didn’t occur to Soap that continuing to look may make him stumble on something he shouldn’t. He was too focused on making sure that his charges were okay and safe.

A cracked door.

Never good.

Soap stared at it, hearing… something.

Breathing.

Anxiety rolled in his gut but he had to make absolutely sure his charges were safe. That was his whole job. The place reeked of roses, chicory root and jasmine. Nothing directly sinister but definitely seemed like the components of magic.

So he silently looked through the door, just to make sure.

Soap covered his mouth.

His lady was in a knight’s lap. He knew the moment he saw the armor who it was.

Ghost.

That would explain his one track mind when it came to this.

She had taken off his helmet, having tossed it to the floor at some point. Her hands ran feverishly over him as her husband spoke. He seemed to be ordering them both around.

Soap felt a tiny bit better than she wasn’t sleeping with Ghost outside of her husband’s knowledge, but the entire situation was disturbing. While he’d never fault someone for their kinks, he would’ve never guessed his Lieutenant would have such… proclivities.

She shoved him down on the bed, due to his size, his head lolled off of it and hung down, giving Soap a sudden and very aggressive view of his face.

Three things were noticed in very quick succession.

One, Ghost was more beautiful than Soap could’ve guessed. Soft lips. Beautiful curly hair. A chest and taught stomach that made Soap wish more than anything that he was the one currently making his way down his body instead of the lady of the town.

Two, he was an elf. Long pointed ears. Unnaturally pale features.

Three, perhaps most horrific, his pupils were wrong.

Heart shaped.

Meaning he had a love potion on.

Ghost didn’t smile. He didn’t enjoy this. Even under the influence of magic, they couldn’t force him to pretend.

Soap fled like a coward.

#Johnny “Soap” Mactavish #Simon “Ghost” Riley #Gary Roach Sanderson #Soap Cod #Ghost COD #Soapghost #Ghostsoap #Soap x Ghost #Ghost x Soap #Macriley #Call of Duty #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare 2 #ghost x roach #roach x ghost #roach x soap #soap x roach #ghost x soap x roach

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attichaos · 1 year

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Colour Magick Correspondences & Ideas

*longer read*

Pretty easily applied for both beginner, closet and experienced practitioners alike! Can be used in most areas of mundane and magickal life (with some ideas listed below).

White

→ Cleansing, clarity, blessing, healing, innocence, truth, connection to spirits or the spiritual world, divine connection, consecration, dream work, psychic connection, purity, rest, moon magic, angelic work, devotion, harmony, prayer, peace, purification, universal truths. White can also be used as an all-purpose color for your intention when the color you want is not available.

Black

→ Banishing, transformation, uncrossing, endings, domination, protection, reversing, repulsion, freedom from evil, cursing, cloaking, sophistication, security, emotional safety, closure, breaking patterns, grief, mourning, absorbing, removing, trapping, encasing, the unconscious, mystery, shielding from the evil eye, *similarly to white - as black is an absence of colour it can be used for any colour if you don’t have them available* - personal opinion

Red

→ Passionate love, energy, action, attraction, sexuality, magnetism, will, force, anger, fire within, courage, warmth, lust, drive, pleasure, vitality, vigor, excitement, desire.

Orange

→ New opportunities, new ventures, new beginnings, change of plans, encouragement, opening the way, removing blocks, physical comfort, warmth, security, ambition, creativity, courage, optimism.

Yellow

-> Optimism, prosperity, happiness, good luck, attraction, success, confidence, visibility, fame, self-esteem, communication, concentration, focus, inspiration, intellect, logic, memory, knowledge, learning.

Green

→ Prosperity, abundance, wealth, generosity, money luck, career, growth, fertility, gambling luck, business, a good job, harmony, balance, healing, self-love, altruism, universal love, contact with fae and nature spirits.

Blue

→ Reconciliation, harmony, peace, kindness, healing, ideas, intelligence, wisdom, loyalty, sleep, meditation, communication, creativity, dream work, trust, blessings, calm, forgiveness, truth, bliss, inspiration, fidelity, honesty.

Purple

→ Healing, calming, tranquility, spirituality, meditation, pacification, cooperation, sensitivity, compassion, empathy, selflessness, empowerment, controlling, commanding, mastery, power, ambition, achievement, charisma, luxury, expansion, psychic ability, spirituality, authenticity, truth, transformation, insight, justice, wisdom, politics, divination, ESP, intuition, wishes, influence.

Pink

→ Romantic love, friendship, soul mates, sweet feelings, emotional healing, heart connection, affection, family love, admiration, physical tranquility, nurturing, warmth, youthfulness, healing grief, compassion, forgiveness, beauty, unconditional love.

Brown

→ Justice, balance, grounding, court cases, legal matters, being down-to-earth, practical matters, seriousness, reliability, support, stability, safety, earth, nature, animals, home, nostalgia, basic needs being met, balance.

Grey

→ Neutrality, neutralizing, invisibility, working in “gray areas,” anonymity, hiding from others, working in-between worlds, secrets, occult and arcane wisdom, reversing, uncovering mysteries and secrets, lifting curses, undoing prior spell work.

Silver

→ Dreams, intuition, psychic work, courtesy, honor, moon magic, rhythm, cycles, divination, illusions, glamour spells, wisdom.

Gold

→ Prosperity, fame, luxury, generosity, optimism, wisdom, enlightenment, victory, sun magic, confidence, life force, power, attraction, magnetism, vigor, charisma.

*highly recommend Madame Pamita’s Book of Candle Magic - covers colour magic especially in relation to spell work with candles.

Ideas

→ candle magick

→ glamour magick - also wearing/makeup using a colour which corresponds to the property you desire (good for closet witches)

→ sigil magick

→ craft magick

→ kitchen witchery - eg. Putting a specific colour food dye in a cake or drink etc

(Essentially anything you want!)

Merry meet,

Atti <3

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mydeerfellow · 3 months

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The Rubber Ball Of Uncontrollable Honesty

“I honestly wouldn’t fuck anyone in the room besides you! And maybe him!” Angel pointed at Husk, then Alastor.

“Really?” Both of them said at the same time, looking speculative and mortified in turn.

“And Vaggie but only if she had a strap—”

---

“Fuck you especially.”

The room was overwhelmingly, awkwardly silent as everyone collectively looked up from the bags of Lucifer’s old shit they’d come across in one of the storage rooms in the basement. Alastor was the last to look up, and seemed shocked that he had even said anything.

“Uh… thanks?” Angel blinked, taken aback by the sudden hostility.

Alastor laughed nervously. “What? No! No, I just think you’re very strange and you make me incredibly uncomfortable! AHA! What the fuck?” He flailed and dropped the small rubber ball he had been messing with.

“Wow, that was… really, really honest, Alastor!” Charlie applauded awkwardly. “Um… I mean, maybe a little… abrupt…” She looked at Angel, who seemed torn between amusement and genuine surprise. “But! But, at least you were open, and… and you—”

“An’ he didn’t mean to say any of that shit. What the hell’s this thing, anyway?” Husk cut her off and stalked forward, eyeing the rubber ball on the floor. “You still feelin’ honest there, boss?” He looked at Alastor, who immediately pivoted to look away, but not before speaking: “Yooouuu— have enormous eyebrows!”

“You wanna fork it over now, or are we gonna wait for you to drop a bombshell?” Husk held out a hand, one brow raised, and for a moment it looked like Alastor might haul back and punch him. Then, he picked up the ball and put it squarely into Husk’s palm. “Ha ha! Now the curse is passed to you!”

“What kinda bullshit Curse Of The Mummy bullshit are you on right now? You can’t just pass it along to the next poor schmuck who tries to help! You know what? Fuck you. Figure it out your own fucking— ah well, shit.” Husk threw the ball at Angel, who caught it with a bit of a fumble.

“I honestly wouldn’t fuck anyone in the room besides you! And maybe him!” Angel pointed at Husk, then Alastor.

“Really?” Both of them said at the same time, looking speculative and mortified in turn.

“And Vaggie but only if she had a strap—”

“Gimme that, you dick.” Vaggie used a broom handle to knock the ball out of Angel’s hands and it rolled over to Niffty’s feet, who immediately held it above her head with a screech.

“Yes, dear?” Alastor patted her head as she wheezed excitedly.

“I would marry a bug if I could, just so I could stab him to death in his sleep and steal his money!”

The silence was overwhelming, and even Alastor looked somewhat put off by her… honesty. “Okay. That’s very disturbing and I think you could use some professional help.” He said at last. “Oh dear, it’s still working.”

“I got committment issues, so I’m never gonna actually fuck you.” Husk let Angel know, who nodded sagely. “That guy really fucked up my whole everything, honestly.” He pointed at Alastor, who raised his hands innocently.

“That’s okay, sex is more of a job anyway, let’s be real.”

“I wish I could stab a bad boy right now.” Niffty yelled.

“You know what, Niff? We’re gonna just… put a pin in that, okay?” Charlie laughed nervously and snatched the ball before anyone else could accidentally pick it up. “Sooo, anyway… I thought my mom got rid of this a long time ago. See, I had this kinda little lying issue when I was really little, so Dad made this!” She held it up and squinted at it. “It just makes you kinda wanna tell the truth. Or it used to, anyway. I think the spell got a little wonky, ‘cause I never… did what you guys are doing.” She looked over at Alastor and Husk, who were giving detailed descriptions of everything they didn’t like about each other while Angel offered background commentary on their personality flaws.

“If I had my time back I’d have drowned you in a washing machine when I had the chance!” Alastor said sweetly. “In fact, the only reason I don’t do that is because the dear, sweet child who runs this hotel would almost certainly be upset if I redecorated her foyer with—”

“That’s a fucking riot comin’ from a man who bends over backwards every time his floozy fuckin’ friend barks up your tree wantin’ a favor for dick-all!”

“At least I have a friend~”

“I got plenty of those, pal!”

Alastor pursed his lips, giving Angel a window of opportunity to jump in. “Aw, come on, maybe now’s not the time, huh? What’s the fun of a bitch fight when everybody’s gotta be stone-cold honest?” He held up his hands and smiled nervously, sidling between Alastor and Husk. “Nobody’s gonna come out on top, amirite? Come on, Charlie.” He waved at her behind his back and she jumped in valiantly.

“I think… we’re all probably going to say things we don’t really mean.”

“It’s a truth… ball… thing! Ain’t the point to be honest?” Husk spat, even as he backed off.

Charlie himmed and hawwed for a second. “Not really. Honesty’s kind of… hard. I don’t think it’s wrong to have a little bit of a… a… Vaggie, help. What am I saying?”

“Honesty’s got a lot of shades of gray. This shit just tries to make it black and white. I’m glad your Mom tossed it in here.” Vaggie covered Charlie’s hands, and the ball, with her own. “I think it’s probably better to just destroy it for good, though. Don’t you?”

The full body relaxation that Vaggie caused in Charlie was probably something that could be marketed and sold for a small fortune, just based on the broad smile on her face. Between their hands, the ball crumbled into dust.

“Well, I, for one, would fuck you any day of the week, and twice on Sunday!” Alastor exclaimed loudly, gesturing at Angel with both hands, who looked like he was seeing the sunrise for the first time. “Oh good, it worked!” He added after a pause, laughing uproariously at his own joke as he walked up the stairs. “I’ve got to go wash my brain with bleach, thank you all for this horrible experience!”

“What about once on Sunday?!” Angel yelled up after him, cackling when he was flipped off with both hands as the door slammed shut. “Ah, I’m wearing ‘em down. Just you wait.”

Husk shuddered and mock-gagged. “Maybe you should just stay down here an’ think about why you’re the way you are.” He patted Angel on the shoulder as he brushed past, following Alastor upstairs. “Niffty, don’t lick the dirt. You don’t know where’s it’s been.” He added, as Niffty was currently attempting to suction the truth ball dust off the unfinished floor.

“Cool, that’s my cue to skedaddle. C’mon, basket case, let’s go wash yer tongue before it falls off.” Angel picked up Niffty by the back of the shirt and tossed her up the stairs and into Husk’s arms like a football. “You two comin’ or what? Lezbehonest, this ain’t the most romantic setting, but you do you, babes.”

“Did you just— we’re holding hands, Angel!”

“Hey, whatever tickles yer pickle.” He swung the door shut behind him, and turned off the light for good measure, plunging them into darkness while they both yelled after him and scrambled blindly for the stairs.

#hazbin #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor #hazbin crack #This makes no sense #I'm just here for a good time #Hazbin Charlie #Hazbin Vaggie #Hazbin Niffty #Hazbin Husk #hazbin angel dust #huskerdust #chaggie

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hold-your-applause · 1 year

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I never was the type to fall for Slytherin boys

And yet...

Warning: Spoilers for Hogwarts Legacy

Vulnerable

Many things had changed in the few short months Ominis had been back at Hogwarts, and while he had initially found them to be overwhelming, enough time had passed to allow him to grow accustomed to them.

Somehow, you were not one of them.

That wasn't entirely true. When you had first appeared in his life, it had all felt rushed, what with his dear friend Sebastian spilling one secret after the next to you in his attempt to rope you into his search for a cure for Anne. At first Ominis had felt almost betrayed when he discovered you coming out of the Undercroft, despite your attempts to defend Sebastian by lying and saying you had found it all on your own.

He had responded harshly to you, and it was something he would quickly come to regret.

He wasn't one to partake in frivolous gossip, but his lack of sight either blessed or cursed him with excellent hearing, depending on how one chose to look at it. It didn't take long for news to spread of you helping anyone who so much as sighed within earshot of you. You had become hard to locate most days; if you weren't attending classes, you were off running errands in Hogsmeade or rushing around the Highlands doing... whatever it was you got up to in the little spare time you seemed to have.

He shouldn't have been surprised when you approached him to speak about the Scriptorium on Sebastian's behalf, and in truth, part of him wasn't. What did surprise him was how easily you quelled his anxiety over entering such a place.

It was even more shocking how you had gotten him to speak Parseltongue after so many years.

After the three of you had ended up trapped just as poor Noctua had, he could no longer pretend he could not understand why people got so attached to you so quickly. You had taken in the hand you were dealt, and you considered every angle before making the decision to allow Sebastian to cast the Cruciatus Curse on you. You took it in stride despite their concerns, and it wasn't much later that you would admit to him that you had partially made your choice because you thought it would easier for him to listen to your cries over Sebastian's.

If anyone were to ask him now, he would say that you had been wrong.

He could feel himself losing Sebastian with each day that passed. The boy wasn't as sly as he believed he was, and Ominis caught the two of you with an item that would only spell trouble.

If he hadn't been so furious, he would have been touched to hear your attempts at getting Sebastian to include him.

But he was distraught; the idea of losing the only good thing he had away from home, the only person he trusted with his darkest secrets and his scars and his baggage was becoming a reality, and there was nothing he could think of to stop it.

And yet, with nothing to gain for yourself that he could tell, you had offered a solution. A means to protect what was left of his relationship with Sebastian with the hopes of being able to salvage it once the dust had settled.

And he let you.

He tried to convince himself it was because he was desperate at the time, but he could not ignore the obvious truth once he had found his way back to the castle: you always knew what people needed to hear.

But it wasn't just that. You were so painfully genuine with your eagerness to help, to support, to fix, that you made it impossible to not trust you. Your intentions weren't just worn on your sleeves; it was imbued in every word, every touch, every move that came from you.

If he didn't already witness it for himself, he would have thought you were incapable of lying.

But you didn't need to. Somehow, your brazen honesty didn't work as a detriment to you. Instead, it was its own armor that protected you from the worst of the world, allowing not just you to be open and trusting, but the people around you as well.

He was no different.

There was still much he didn't know about you. You never spoke about your life before Hogwarts, and while he couldn't be sure, he didn't get the sense that your life had been anywhere as miserable as his. He wondered if maybe that was what allowed you to do as you pleased, so unafraid of what harm may come to you. While he was so guarded and afraid to engage with most people, you were the complete opposite; something that would normally irritate him.

Yet here he was, sitting with you in the safety of the Undercroft, attempting to study while he did his best to ignore the warmth of your head resting on his shoulder, your steady breathing telling him you were fast asleep.

This was a brand new development. One he was not prepared for.

He had told you of his sins, of the crimes he had committed in his past that he planned to spend the rest of his time atoning for. The pain he inflicted on people undeserving of it was something he knew he could never take back, but he also found himself unable to forgive himself for it. While it wasn't your place to forgive him, you hadn't so much as flinched at the confession, instead trying to assure him that the fault wasn't his.

Sebastian had said the same thing countless times, but he was surprised to find how desperately he wanted to believe it when you had spoken it instead.

Damn you for making it seem so easy.

The year had been full of surprises for him so far, things that normally would have left him reeling, distressed. Things that would make him feel exposed.

Perhaps the biggest surprise was just how okay you made him feel about it.

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy #scenario #fluff #director fugue

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the-world-annealing · 10 months

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An arbitrary element system

(Inspired by @discoursedrome writing this, original post seems to have been deleted so I'm linking to a reblog; also apologies to Samin Nostrat)

SALT: Associated with protection, preservation, and constancy. Marble statues, ramparts, cats, trees, and the priestly/noble classes are all considered strongly salt-aligned. More abstractly, astronomy, architecture and to a lesser extent currency all fall under its purview as well. Salt-aligned characters run the gamut from honorable knights to peaceful gardeners to bronze age god-kings. Its season is winter.

Magic of salt can create create impassable wards, render promises unbreakable, or unleash curses of petrification. It can never be used to separate or destroy, and its more powerful effects often require elaborate sigils to be drawn. Those skilled in salt magic have their lifespan greatly lengthened, and may live for many centuries, but find their minds growing ever more rigid and inflexible.

FAT: Associated with creation, growth, restoration, and foresight (as fat is, by its very nature, a store to be used in the future). Fat is associated with predators (especially birds), craftsmen, and the merchant class, as well as healers, teachers, musicians, and writers. Its season is summer.

Fat magic can grow a house from a splinter of wood, grant its wielder another man's face, twist entrails into the shape of the future, and even revive the dead for a time. However, it is powerless to affect anything that was never alive. Its effects become more potent the longer they are maintained, but doing so drains ever more of the wielder's reserves: many a mage has tried to push past their limits and combusted in flames on the spot.

ACID: Associated with destruction, upheaval, and scarcity. However, acid is also the element of forgiveness, freedom, persistence, and honesty, and governs unlikely alliances and fire-forged bonds. Scavengers and vermin are aligned with acid, as is anyone who falls outside of the conventional social hierarchy: beggars, criminals, outcasts, and ascetics. Its season is autumn.

Acid magic creates can summon hailstorms, spew gouts of burning oil, conjure frightful phantasms or inflict wracking pains. Magic that undoes charms and curses also falls under the element of acid, as does anything that facilitates travel between the planes or calls their denizens here. Acid magic demands components of great rarity; gemstones, powdered dragonscale, the bones of saints. Those who cannot pay a spell's price must suffer its scarring backlash instead, and most senior acid mages are hideous to look upon.

HEAT: Associated with transubstantiation, purification, ambition, and toil. Farmers and unskilled laborers are heat-aligned, but so are smiths, herbalists, glassblowers, and of course alchemists. Herbivorous animals are a manifestation of this element, as are the shoots and grasses they feed upon. Its season is spring.

Heat magic often manipulates energies. Telekinetic effects are heat magic, as are blasts of radiance or bursts of heat. A shield of heat magic may dissipate powerful blows as harmless light, or even reflect the force back onto the attacker. Obviously, heat magic also includes all those magics that turn a substance into another, from turning lead into gold to rusting iron or calling water from rock. Its wielders are forced to specialize ever more: the more powerful an effect one wishes to conjure, the more facets of this magic become permanently unavailable. Thus, the masters of heat magic are those that have found many creative applications for a single spell effect.

#worldbuilding

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ptoodle · 9 months

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Very rarely do I see people ship Fern and Huntress Wizard but when I do I can’t help but feel like they have a fundamental misunderstanding of both Huntress Wizard and Fern’s nature. Like on the surface it’s “haha!!! Plant boy and plant girl!!!! Huntress Wizard likes Finn and Fern is Finn but a plant so they’re perfect for each other!!!!” which just like, completely ignores everything core to Fern’s existence and Huntress Wizard’s complicated feelings toward love.

Fern is just more than just “Finn but plant”. He is LITERALLY Finn, but tainted with a curse. He is built out of fucked up evil twisted magic. Fern spends his entire existence finding his own identity and trying to reconcile Finn’s natural desire to do good with the corrupting nature of the grass curse. Fern’s struggle is internal, and he don’t have the emotional capacity for romance until he sorts his own shit out (which unfortunately due to the curse, he’ll never be able to do).

There's also the matter of the huge gap in emotional maturity between Finn and Fern. The Finn inside the Finnsword missed key moments of emotional development that our Finn experienced from season 6 to 8. Fern wasn't molded by key experiences like The Visitor, Crossover, Hall of Egress, Flute Spell, Don't Look, or The Music Hole. In particular, the massive emotional growth Finn underwent in Flute Spell is what allowed him to start a functional relationship with Huntress Wizard, and Fern lacks that growth. Fern is essentially a version of Finn stuck in season 6, and lacks the emotional intelligence to properly handle a relationship with anyone, let alone somebody as emotionally sensitive as Huntress Wizard.

But enough about Fern. I’m not a Fern expert, and this is only my B-rate interpretation of his character. The REAL egregious mischaracterizations of a Fern x Huntress Wizard ship lay in people just not understanding Huntress Wizard properly. For starters, you have to understand that both Fern and Huntress Wizard are two very magical beings, but their magics come from different sources. Huntress Wizard is a wizard (surprising, I know) and Fern is a CURSE. Fern is an unnatural, malicious magical force. Huntress Wizard would be off-put by Fern’s existence because he is a perversion of the natural world that she ties herself deeply to. Huntress Wizard assumes the role of a sort of “keeper of nature” in the forests of Ooo (as seen in her quest to slay the Grumbo for being invasive in The Wild Hunt), and Fern is a disruption to that natural order. A relationship between the two would never work because Huntress Wizard would be uncomfortable with Fern’s very existence.

There’s also the matter of why Huntress Wizard is attracted to Finn, and how Fern lacks many of the qualities Huntress Wizard likes Finn for. For starters, there’s the matter of emotional development I talked about before. Finn is extremely well-put together during the time he spends with Huntress Wizard in Flute Spell, and it’s easy to see how deeply he respects Huntress Wizard and her objectives. Finn isn’t determined to help Huntress Wizard with her mission to talk to the Spirit of the Forest out of a blind infatuation for her, but out of his natural drive to help people. Finn is very in-tune with his emotions (and can handle rejection like a champ), and Huntress Wizard can see that in him. This emotional in-tuneness is part of why Huntress Wizard so deeply respects Finn. Huntress Wizard seems to value her ability to stay true to her feelings (which even she struggles with; see my Flute Spell megareview for more) is drawn to his honesty and selflessness. Unfortunately for Fern, whether it is because of his lack of emotional development or because of his curse, cannot handle all his conflicting feelings inside him and doesn’t have the same kind of emotional stability that Huntress Wizard is attracted to Finn for.

I could go on and on and list even more reasons to why Fern x Huntress Wizard wouldn’t work, but those stray further into the “headcanon-ey”school of thought and I’m trying to be more objective with my character analysis as possible. I know being complexly objective is impossible and you have to leave a little room for individual interpretation but overall the entire ship is built on a very flimsy basis of “what if the two plant people liked eachother” and that’s it. There’s way more to these characters that make them special, and reducing them to just their visual similarities does a disservice to their character depth and creative potential.

#huntress wizard #adventure time #finn mertens #adventuretime #finn the human #fern the human #fern mertens #wow I never realized how many adventure time episodes start with ‘the’#why is the formatting all weird #that’s the price I pay for writing this all on mobile

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shadowbriar · 10 months

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Fred Weasley - Would've, Could've, Should've

Pairing : Fred Weasley x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 3.3k Warning : Implication of alcohol. War. Some foul words. Italics for past events (ew). Fluff. Let me know if I missed anything. Not proofread. Synopsis : The three times Fred Weasley should've professed his feelings and the one time he finally did. Notes : I intended this piece to be an angst ending but I supposed Fred fluff is due. Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Fred Weasley's Masterlist click here.

Fred Weasley finds it hard to find comfort on his old squeaky bed. It has been weeks since Harry, Ron and Hermione fled the wedding. There have been no words, no owls. Supposedly that means that they’re still in hiding. No news means no harm done. There’s no way Voldemort would have kept silent had he and his followers found Harry.

Fred hates it. Not knowing what to do nor what to expect next. The uncertainty is driving him mad. One of these days the war will happen and until then, Fred is left with nothing but the empty void he’s been trapped in for days.

He’s prepared himself well. Practising his spells and curses in the morning and at nights, before and after he busied himself with the joke shop. Her words ring in his head, like an infinite loop of heavenly melodic song. A pleasant earworm that he never wished to evict from his mind. The only thing keeping him afloat was her smile, her scent, her voice.

Her.

Perhaps it is what fueled his pestered mind. The fact that he hasn’t been able to be honest with his feelings to her, to gather the courage and be bold as he’s always tried to be in front of others. Everyone knows about his deep devotion for her. That stupid truth or dare game Hermione introduced them back in Hogwarts had to be the ugliest way of a confession and it couldn’t even be counted as one. It was simply an honest answer.

“Don’t fight it Freddie, it’ll only hurt you.” Hermione says with a teasing smile.

The veritaserum is certainly doing its job. Fred winches as he feels his skin stabbed with a thousand needles, trying his best to fight the honesty banging to be let out.

“Come on, Fred, answer the question!” Harry said, pushing him “Who is it that you fancy? Angelina? Alicia? Go on, spill it!”

Fred bites his lower lip hard, not caring the bitter taste of blood as it starts to rip.

He turns to see her, the girl who anticipates his answer just like the rest of the group. Her eyes were twinkling, smile spreading beautifully. The light from the fireside reflects on her, making her look ethereal. His cheeks were burning, unable to contain the emotions any longer as he finally blurted her name.

She blinks, looking surprised.

The rest of the students were stunned too for a brief moment, before exchanging their expressions into a playful one, smirking and nudging her. She let out a shy smile, not daring to see Fred’s gaze as her cheeks turned a shade of pink.

“I mean, it’s just a silly crush.” Fred says fast, afraid she might feel uncomfortable at his unplanned confession. But the lie hurt him worse and made him spill more truth “No— I lied. I love her. Shit, this thing hurts like unicorn balls.”

Her giggles echo through the common room. Fred finds himself smiling a little at her reaction, thankful that she didn’t find it baffling of him to fancy her. Though he’s sure she’s only showing modesty. She’s always been good at keeping his feelings after all.

Fred sighs as he rests his arm on top of his eyes. He should’ve done something then, after unintentionally uttering his feelings, perhaps he should’ve approached her and handled it better. Come with better words, ask her for a proper date, anything but to shrug the incident away. Just like what he did.

Don’t ask him what it is that makes it so hard to gather the gut and confess. He’s been trying to find the one reason for years now. Perhaps he was just insecure, feeling like he is less deserving of her affection. Or maybe he fears ruining the friendship they’ve nurtured over the years. It’s not everyday you can be close with your love interest, afterall. Most of the time it would only create misunderstanding and awkwardness, but with her, he finds support and comfort instead.

But that one game wasn’t the only time he could’ve made his move. If anything, it was only the beginning of more chances he had missed. That game happened when he was in fifth year. There have been plenty other opportunities for him to seize and be true to his feelings, yet he didn’t.

Fred stares at the seated girl from the corner of the room. He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of her. The stunning decorations of the Ball was nothing compared to her beauty tonight. How her hair was styled, the simple yet enchanting dress that fits her like a glove, everything about her was lovely to say the least.

His date, Angelina, has been long gone with her friends. She might have noticed Fred’s lack of enthusiasm for the dance and decided to ditch him. He feels rather guilty for not making Angie’s night, but it’s hard to try and please other people when your heart is locked on another.

She was escorted by some Slytherin git who defeated him on his race with time. Fred curses himself for taking too much time on thinking of clever lines instead of actually approaching her and asking her to be his date. He thought that people would know better than to ask her. They’ve been close for years, surely others could understand that they’re unspokenly an item. These other lads could’ve taken literally any other girl than her.

As George would nag him, he snoozes, he loses.

But after lurking at her like the creep he is for quite some time, Fred comes to the understanding that she too has been ditched by his date. A voice in his head wants to give this bloke a taste of his knuckles for leaving her alone like this, but a bigger part in him was thankful that she could now be rescued by him.

“Fancy a dance?” Fred asks, putting his hand out for her to reach.

She raises her brows, smiling in confusion, “Where’s your date?”

“Gone.” He shrugs, not paying much mind to her question “So.. Dance?”

She scrunches her nose. A habit she does whenever she’s embarrassed to do something. Her growing grin and suppressed giggle was pumping Fred’s vein with bliss. He caresses the back of her hand that was covered in white satin glove as they walk to the middle of the floor.

“I have to warn you, I might not have the best foot at dancing.”

Fred smiles at her, winking, “Well then, let me lead.”

Even as she bit her lips, the happy grin was still blooming on her face. They were dancing with whatever move Fred wanted to do, not caring that they are so out of rhyme than the rest of the other couples. He lifts her up, twirls her, before doing the same motions on himself, making her burst into fits of laughter.

Their eyes were locked on each other, completely captivated as they felt the world around them melt away. In that very moment, Fred, who thought that he couldn’t have fallen for her harder than he already is, was proven to be yet again mistaken. He could always and will always fall for her harder than he already did before.

She places her hands on his shoulders. Their height difference made it hard for her to cling on his neck, so resting them on his shoulders should do. Her smile was muted down but still radiates the very same joy. Fred would certainly argue that at this very moment, she is the most beautiful woman in his life.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her eyes widened at the sudden burst of questions.

“I mean on the forehead, of course.” Fred said fast, trying to save the moment before he ruins it completely. His heart was beating fast, afraid she might let go and walk away “Completely platonic. You’re my best friend, after all.”

She pursed her lips. A slight disappointment was visible in her eyes but as quick as it came, the expression disappeared and changed into another lovely one, “Of course, Fred.”

“Bloody hell.” Fred groans to himself as the memory hits him like a tidal wave “Really? A kiss on the forehead? Fucking bell-end you are, Fred Weasley.”

He takes the pillow that was resting on his side to cover his face, screaming on it to let out some fumes. He really needs to get his head sorted. It’s fascinating how she’s still sticking around and having the very same lovely attitude towards him after all the baffling actions and mortifying words he’s uttered.

Even when he told her he was leaving, she was still his number one supporter.

Fred fidgets with his fingers as he waits for her by the oak tree. He’s asked Seamus to give her the word that he’s waiting for her, at the very moment he knew she’d finished her transfiguration class. His palms were flimsy, nervous of her reaction later after he finally spilled the bean. Would she still be there for him, cheering and patting him on the shoulder after this?

“Fred,” she calls, a curious smile plastered on her confused face “You wanted to see me?”

He chews the inner side of his cheek, responding in a nod.

“Okay..” She scrunches her nose, cheeks are highlighted in a strawberry colour as she takes closer steps “What is it?”

“I need to tell you something.”

She nods, eyes full of anticipation, “Go on.”

“I’m leaving.”

The glimmer in her eyes dim down as the words enter her ears. Her excited face was soon exchanged to a disappointed and puzzled one. It was as if she expected him to tell her something else.

“We have enough money now to open the shop and I don’t think we should wait any longer. Not even until graduation.” Fred continues to explain, eyes filled with uncertainty “Me and George are planning to leave by the end of this week.”

“This week?” She asks, surprised “That’s— That’s very sudden.”

Fred nods, “I know, but this is the very time for us to flee Umbridge, don’t you think? If we were to leave now, we could have more products prepared for the next school term, so students can get their pranking supplies from us.”

She remains quiet, not looking like she was even half listening.

“And we heard that there’s a shop for rent in Diagon Alley. We’re thinking of buying it and renovating it. We ought to start early before the market is full, otherwise we wouldn’t get customers.”

“You’re leaving.” She says in a soft whisper, still trying to comprehend his words. She licks her lip, forcing a smile as she places her hands on his shoulders “I am so very proud of you Fred. Of you and George, both. I’m sure the business will thrive. You two are gifted for it.”

Fred nods, breathing uneven as he debates if he should put a line here and end the conversation. They would still see each other later on, so perhaps he could postpone his confession a little longer. But he would certainly be busy with the shop later, should the business actually thrive as she said, and might not have time to utter his feelings. And that’s not considering the competition he might have now that she’s older and has certainly grown into a mesmerising woman.

“Would that be all, Fred?” She asks as if hoping that there is more from him.

Fred clears his throat, “Uh, yes. Yes, that would be all.”

She nods, smiling genuinely as she takes closer steps and reaches for his cheek, planting a small kiss on it, “I’m so proud of you, Fred. Good luck.”

Fred turns his gaze to his bedside table. There, lies the one photograph he holds very dearly. Its edges were slightly ripped from constant touch he’s done. They were smiling there. His arm resting on her shoulder as he ruffled her hair, resulting in an irritated glare as she pushed him off of her.

He missed her. It has been months since he last saw her. He’s been diligent on reading the papers, making sure that her name wasn’t listed as one of the victims through the chaos ensued. She’s always been someone with a brilliant moral compass and determination, and though it is one of the many things he loved most about her, Fred couldn’t help but to feel worried that it might cause her troubles.

“Fred, are you asleep?” George says as he barges in his room, breaking his train of thoughts “We’ve just received a message from Aberforth— Harry’s at Hogwarts. The Order will rendezvous there, we must go.”

—-

The ringing in his ears was becoming louder. His eyes were watering from the debris, chest tight from the dust and smoke of explosions. Fred was in loss of direction, though there isn’t anyone who’d know the castle better than him, he couldn’t make sense of where to go, only trusting his burning legs to carry him elsewhere. Somewhere the Death Eaters couldn’t find him.

Somewhere between the Astronomy Tower and here, he’d separated with George. He could only hope that his twin is in a better situation than him, found shelter or help to punch the Death Eaters away.

“Expulso!”

Fred’s speed finally decreases as an explosion happens behind him, blasting the Death Eaters that were chasing him away. He stares at the now ruined hallway, panting as he tries to rest his legs and catch a breath.

“Are you alright?” A girl says with worry, placing her hands to his cheeks and analysing his condition “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Fred pants, unable to utter any word. His vision was still blurred. He wasn’t sure he was still alive. Maybe the blast hit him, or he was buried under the ruins of the crumbling hallway, either way would be a better explanation to the sight he’s seeing right now. He could feel her hands scanning his body, trying to see if he was injured anywhere as the lack of words clearly didn’t provide any ease for her.

“Good God, say something, Fred!” She yells, frustrated before turning her heels and pulling his arm to the hallway “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Now the two of them are running, climbing down the many stairs of The Grand Staircase. They were cornered. More Death Eaters were waiting for them downstairs, still unaware of their upcoming presence. Before they could take their turn and descend further, Fred pulled her away to the smaller corridor and opened a secret passage.

The channel was cramped. Stone walls lit by torches that magically set ablaze as they came in. The tunnel didn’t give her any sense of comfort, noting the eerie air it has and how quiet it is compared to the turmoil happening outside. It was as if they were sucked into a different dimension now.

“We have to get back,” She says with audible pants “We have to help the others.”

“Just give me a second to breathe, Love.” Fred says with a pathetic chuckle, trying to gather his energy back “There were Death Eaters waiting for us down there, we have to go the other way.”

She nods in understanding, finally leaning to the stone walls and letting her guards down for a minute.

Fred stares at her, still slightly crunching down with his hands on his knees. He knew that he shouldn’t be thinking about her this way, given the grave situation they are currently in, but he couldn’t help but to think of just how blessed he is to be graced with her presence. Her cheeks were flushed, skin laced with sweat that made it seem as if she was glowing. Her hair was unkempt from all the running. She gave a whole new meaning to the word beautiful in his book.

“Quit staring.” She mutters, a little smile tugging on her lips “We don’t have time for an awkward reunion right now.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “I don’t know whether to be happy or mad.”

“Why would you be mad? I saved your arse just now.”

“I know,” He nods in acknowledgement “I just didn’t exactly have this in mind, Death Eaters and deathly jinx, when I finally meet you again.”

She smiles, finding the situation to be rather ironic also.

She wipes the sweat on her forehead with her sleeves. Her breathing has become steadier, taking out her wand again as if she’s ready to face whatever fight to come. That look of determination is back on her face. Fred could never recall any other time when she looked more courageous than this, but before she went to find the exit to this tunnel, he took her wrist and made her pause on her feet.

“Wait,” He says. Fred’s eyes were filled with uncertainty now. A silent battle is happening in his mind, whether or not he should come clean to her now. The setting was unideal, certainly far from the romantic scenarios he’s planned in his head for years, but there was no guarantee that either of them could come out of this alive and he knew he’d kill himself if he died without telling her how he feels “I need to tell you something.”

Her brows furrow a little, looking at his body to scan for injuries he might not have mentioned before, “Are you hurt?”

“No, no I’m not hurt.” Fred answers fast “It’s about something else. About what I’m feeling– What I have been feeling.. For you.”

“Fred,” She calls softly, taking his hands to hers and squeezing it gently with a smile “I appreciate the sentiment, truly, but you can be really daft sometimes. We have no time for this now.”

He frowns, slightly taken aback at her blunt words.

“I’ve waited years for you to muster up the courage, I deserve a proper confession, don’t you think? Not one done in some dark rotten tunnel like this.” She says with a chuckle. She places a small kiss to his cheek, still smiling warmly at him “Tell me whatever it is you want to tell me once this is all done, alright? I expect some sappy speech and flowers at disposal.”

“I’ll redo this once we’re out but I just have to get the words out now. I need to.” He states firmly “Voldy could wait for another minute, I’m sure the fight would still be there when we get out of this hole.”

Hesitation was still evident in her eyes but she nodded in defeat, staring right back at him with full attention, “Alright.”

“I love you,” Fred starts head on “I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, perhaps longer cause I know I’ve been staring at you from afar since the first time I laid eyes on you. My heart is yours, always. And I just— I— Oh, fuck this.”

The lack of words were so frustrating that he caved in to adrenaline and kissed her instead, hoping that the gesture could convey the message better than his rambling. He kissed her desperately, as if he feared he could never do it again. His hands cupped her cheeks, slightly crouching down so she doesn’t have to be on her tippy toes for too long. He kissed her with all the pent up emotions he bottled all these years. Letting it all burst into fireworks that set every inch of his skin ablaze.

They were panting once again as they pulled away. Chest heaving from all the intense emotions. His nose was brushing into hers, forehead touching as they savoured every ticking second. None of them wanted to leave.

“I love you.” He whispered once more “I am utterly, unequivocally, desperately in love with you.”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that.” She replies with a smile “That better not be the last time I hear it.”

Fred chuckles, planting a kiss to her forehead, “Trust me, you’ll tire hearing it once we get out of this.”

“Promise?”

“I swear it.”

She smiles wide, satisfied that all these times spent waiting for him to confess finally comes to an end.

“I’ll find better words to say later.” Fred says tenderly.

“Don’t forget the flowers.”

He chuckles, nodding, “And flowers.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley scenario #fred weasley scenarios #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley oneshot #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x oc

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eletricheart · 19 days

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Hey, can you do a Donna beneviento x long lost child, he/she is a bsaa agent (member of the hound wolf squad) that has a mission on the village and got captured then the lords were surprised that he/she has Beneviento last name and then it turns he/she is Donna's child and they met and then Donna try to say sorry for abandoning him/her and eventually the two make up. Also make the story longer if you may plsss

Purple Hyacinth

(Donna Beneviento x child!reader)

*pinterest: hideandsiek

Word count: 1703

I am so sorry this took so long😭i tried my best to make this good so it'd kinda make up for the time but idk, hope u like it😔🫶

ps: i changed a few things but not like the main idea yk, lmk if its okay😔✌

ps: pls lmk any spelling mistakes😬

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

It was your first official assignment at the BSAA, there would be no “babysitters” on the field with you, which you were glad. It was supposed to be simple, go in, gather information on the cult’s activities and get out.

Of course there was some danger to it, such as getting caught by the village leader leading to endless torture and experiments. Just light consequences if you make a mistake.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You arrived at day time, a few hours past the morning sermon. You believed that pretending to be a lost traveler during the day was less suspicious than at night.

You took mental notes of everything you’d see, the architecture, the clothings, language. Soon enough you knew exactly what to say and to whom.

However, your good luck couldn't last forever. And that's how you find yourself trying to argument your way out of Heisenberg's factory.

You knew he wasn't fully in agreement with Mother Miranda, from what the villagers said.

Unfortunately for you, he needed a favor from the priestess, hence you now being dragged to the Lord’s meeting.

Donna didn't recognize you at first, in all honesty the dollmaker was barely paying attention to the meeting, choosing to get lost in thought while staring at the ground.

However, you had a birthmark near your right eye, noticeable enough that the moment Donna looked up she knew it was you. Suddenly the room felt as if it closed on her, her breathing started to get inconsistent, her hands tightened around her dress while Angie quietly tried to calm her down.

You weren't supposed to be here, you were supposed to be safe, she tried so hard to keep you safe.

The minutes passed in a blur, the Lord’s voices were almost unintelligible, until Mother Miranda ordered Lady Dimitrescu to choose your fate. Donna was quick to rise to her feet and quickly whisper a request to the priestess, who distrusted her eagerness to keep you but accepted nonetheless.

1989

You were born four weeks before winter, so quiet and pale that for a moment Donna worried you were sick. You brought a joy that she hadn't felt in a year since her parents died.

Until winter arrived, and then suddenly you were both trapped inside the Manor.

The voices became too much, her fear was too loud. There was so much death in this house, Donna feared you would be just another victim of it, so she let you go.

The Lady spent the entire winter loving you the best she could, memorizing every laugh, every cry.

The Duke was the one who helped in getting you to a good foster home, away from Romania, away from her, away from her curse.

During that year, spring didn't reach the Beneviento Manor

Present day

The walk to the Manor was quiet, especially since you knew of the dollmaker’s ability, annoying her would do nothing but get you killed.

However, you remained observant, noticing how anxious Donna seemed, even though she was in her territory and you presented no threat.

Once approaching her house you chuckled at the sight of a few daffodils blooming. Donna quickly stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at you.

You smiled awkwardly. “Sorry, just saw some daffodils.”

The dollmaker nodded slowly, scanning the garden looking for the flower. “It means rebirth.”

You made a noise of agreement. “I was just thinking of a song.”

Donna made a low “oh” and continued her walks towards the house.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

It took two weeks for you to talk to each other. Donna was overwhelmed with the need to care for you but simultaneously afraid of telling who she really was and end up with you hating her. You, on the other hand, carried on the mission, quietly investigating the house and its inhabitants, Donna’s constant disappearance only made it easier.

It wasn't a long conversation, just small talk during dinner, but for Donna it was everything.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Only one week later and you overheard a phone call of intruders. Your first thought was a rescue team, you hadn't found out much regarding the village’s routine but knew enough of the Lords.

You had been with the BSAA since you were a child, they picked you up in an orphanage claiming you had great potential to protect the world. You believed in them, they were the only family you knew.

Therefore, you took your chance and ran away from the Manor in the middle of the night, trying to find the team.

Donna noticed a few minutes later, rushing off of bed, praying to every god that nothing happened to you.

She found you in a clearing, sitting on the floor surrounded by who Donna believed was the intruders. You barely moved when she approached you, slowly sitting down beside you.

There were tears streaming down your face, your gaze locked in the bloodied knife in your hand. “They came to kill me.” You said, not turning to look at her.

Donna took a deep breath, keeping her hatred for those men hidden while trying to comfort you. “Mother called me to warn that they may stop by at the Manor, they always do this when one of their spies fail.”

You turned to look at her, trying to hold a sob. “But I didn't fail, I swear I didn't! Why do they not want me anymore?!” You could barely breathe, the tears were flowing freely, the knife long forgotten while you held yourself. “Why does no one want me? What did I do?” Your voice no louder than a whisper.

Donna could feel her heart break at every tear that went down your face, she knew it wouldn't be fair to tell you now, so she pulled you close and held you while you cried.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Afterwards you willingly stayed with Donna, being more talkative towards the woman, even sometimes participating in Angie's game.

Even though the dollmaker was definitely happier, her anxiety still took a toll on her. The other Lords and Miranda kept questioning why she’s protecting the girl, even you were confused but decided not to test your luck by asking her.

It was during a sunny day when Donna decided to tell you the truth. You were both under a tree, you were laying with your eyes closed and your head in her lap while she read a book.

You looked so peaceful that she almost gave up but she couldn't keep this hidden forever, despite the others attempt at secrecy, she knew they were already investigating.

Donna gently tapped your shoulder, silently asking you to sit down, to which you did.

The dollmaker took a deep breath, picking her nails as a way to destress and strongly avoiding your gaze. “I-I was just wondering if you’ve ever wanted to meet your mother.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise but quickly turned into confusion. You had never told her your past, in fact it took you weeks to tell her your first name. “I’m sorry, what?”

Donna could feel her heartbeat getting faster, she still refused to look you in the eyes. “Mother was investigating…” The dollmaker thought back into lying, shaking her head. “That was a lie, I’m sorry. I just-I-”

You stopped her mid sentence and held her hand. “Breathe. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Donna quickly nodded, wiping the tears that started to fall. “I’m your mother.”

You furrowed your brows, trying to control your breathing. “You’re lying.”

The dollmaker shook her head, gripping your hands tighter. “I’m not, I swear. I-I was so scared I didn't want to let you go but it was the only option I had. Please, please, don't hate me.”

You felt confused, you stared at her for a while, hoping that it’s just a stupid joke, but it wasn't. And then you felt betrayed, sad, angry. You wanted to scream at her, to forgive her, to cry. But you did none of it, you only removed your hand from hers, and wiped the few tears that slipped. “No.”

Donna’s eyes widened and before she could say anything you spoke again. “I’ll pack my belongings and leave.”

You rose to your feet slowly, afraid that your legs might give out, and walked towards the Manor.

The dollmaker quickly followed you, gently grabbing your arm and turning you around. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just-I-please give me a chance.”

You scoffed. “Why? No offense but I don't want to be abandoned for a third time.”

You tried to release your arm but Donna kept her hold. “I know you have no reason to trust me. But let me prove myself to you, I won't make the same mistake, I promise.”

You stared at her hands trapping your arm. “Your promises mean nothing to me.”

Donna nodded, attempting to not break down in front of you. “I know.”

You took a deep breath and looked at the woman in front of you. “I can't take it again, so please don't ask me to stay just so you break me again.”

“I won't.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You waited a year to tell the others since you needed more than a few words to believe the dollmaker and officially meet her family.

Alcina was extremely happy to have another child in the family, even though you constantly reminded her that you were an adult.

At first Karl was awkward, especially with being the one to have kidnapped you. Sometimes Donna regretted the time she introduced you two, most of it was when you’d show up back home covered in coal.

Moreau was glad to have a new friend, but mostly confused as to when Donna had a kid.

And Miranda…well she tried to kidnap you once she found out the pregnancy was during the cadou’s implant. However after a lot of talk and some threats she agreed to only a few blood samples.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

For all the following years, wherever you were she was. Donna took her promise to never leave you quite serious, of course you both learned boundaries after a while.

Even though you were an autumn child, you brought spring back into her life. And in return, she gave you a family.

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

requests are open but know that i may take a week to six months to answer them🤪: masterlist

#resident evil village #re8 #donna beneviento #resident evil #non canon #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #fanfic #re8 donna #resident evil donna #donna beneviento x child!reader #lady beneviento x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 8 #resident evil fandom #angst with a happy ending #re8 fanfiction #re8 fic

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whatabunchofalices · 1 year

Text

some eah fun facts from shannon hale’s books!

maddie takes chemythstry, riddling and storytelling 101 (she takes more classes but these were the ones mentioned!)

raven takes general villainy, home evilnomics, poison fruit theory, history of evil spells, kingdom mismanagement and music

when raven was younger her mother would tell her stories about the marsh king, the boogeyman, the scissorman, the wendigo, hungry witches, angry tigers and wicked sorcerers

when maddie is sad she’s hops arounds because who can be sad while hopping?

maddie has a flag language with her father (he spells out messages with flags). the mad hatter can also speak riddlish with flags

one of the cards the queen of hearts gave lizzie said “above all else, avoid these things: vats of poison, Jabberwocks, paper cuts in fingertips and Concern For Others. If ever you detect Concern For Others squirming into you, shout at people till the feeling goes away. Or the people do.”

lizzie throws hedgehogs at people but mostly she uses them for croquet (don’t worry wonderland hedgehogs are strong and are meant to be able to handle such activities)

lizzie carries around a butter knife with a heart engraved on the handle

lizzie can play the dulcimer

daring is a katy fairy fan (katy perry)

cupid loves when hunter does that hero pose where he rips off his shirt

cedar’s biggest fears are woodpeckers, wood-chippers, woodchucks, axes, fires, termites, never turning real, being stuck in a wooden body with an honesty curse forever, disappointing her dad and letting her friends down

apples’s ringtone is “you don’t know you’re charming” by one reflection (one direction)

apple always keeps a basket of candy and coins on her balcony

when hanging up on the phone instead of saying goodbye they say “the end”

there is a zip line inside the sleeping beauty palace

dexter bites his nails when he’s nervous (in this case he did it while thinking about his unknown destiny)

the charming family plays a game called “bag” which is similar to tag but when you get tagged the person who was “it” puts you in a bag and drags you around.

during summers lizzie and kitty are the only students to stay at eah. the white queen also stays

apple white has an one reflection (one direction) action figure collection

while maddie and lizzie are kitty’s friends, cedar is kitty’s “almost-friend”

ashlynn smells like a mix of cypress tree, lily of the valley, lemon cleaning soap, and the crinkly paper that lines new shoe boxes (according to kitty)

kitty also said that hunter smells like wood smoke, fir tree shavings, and soy turkey patties

raven has a tailor quick (taylor swift) shirt

#i’ve started reading the books for the first time so i’ve decided to share random bits of information from the books!#i absolutely adore the books!!#ever after high #eah #apple white #briar beauty #darling charming #dexter charming #ashlynn ella #hunter huntsman #cedar wood #kitty cheshire #lizzie hearts #shannon hale

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septic-skele · 4 months

Text

UT - It's Illegible Chicken Scratch

Summary: Papyrus' classmates think he's a tryhard. His teacher thinks he's not trying hard enough. Sans thinks he may need to do some research on dysgraphia.

A/N: In which I take that one line about Papyrus' puzzle notes (see title) and ruuuun with it

Papyrus had a…complicated relationship with his words.

Complicated: c-o-m-p-l-i-c-a-t-e-d. See, he knew how to spell it, unlike some of the other third grade students; he could recite the letters aloud without stumbling and recognize them when they were in a book with ease—so why couldn’t he put those very same letters down neatly on this expectant piece of paper?

His vocabulary (v-o-c-a-b-u-l-a-r-y) was supposed to be a point of pride. He and his brother were font-based by design; words were their specialty. Sans put his practice toward making even the smallest, most casual words more effective but Papyrus had always wanted to aim higher. Maybe it was the upper-caser in him; he devoured the puzzle of sounding out larger, longer syllables, echoing them over and over (even a little uncontrollably sometimes) until they settled just right in his mouth.

When he piped up to contribute to older monsters’ conversations, they would often exclaim that he was “so well spoken for his age!” Sans would look at him with such a fond warmth in his eyelights and reply, “Yep, that’s my bro. He’s the coolest.”

The other kids in his class didn’t seem to share the sentiment, not even after he offered to help them with the words of the day. He had hoped studying together would be the start to a friendship (or at the very least what Sans called a give-and-take relationship.) Maybe if they were friends, they would in turn help him in the areas of study where they all excelled and he might, theoretically, ever so slightly fall short.

Instead they accused him of thinking they were stupid, insulting them just because he knew they wouldn’t understand. They complained to the teacher that he was being a showoff, using all these fancy words to act like he was better than them.

Perhaps it had reminded his teacher of the bad mood she was in last week when Papyrus told her the spelling flash cards were too easy. Whatever the case may be, she had issued a challenge: “Well, if you’re so confident in using your words, you can practice your cursive with the fourth grade word list.”

It wasn’t the more advanced list that dropped Papyrus’ soul into the pit of his metaphorical stomach. It was that one particular word: cursive.

Reading and recitation were doable, give-and-take; he was given letters, words, phrases and took them with him for future use. Writing, however, was…not that. It was the far less fun kind of puzzle, too much giving with too much room for mistakes—and he made many, many mistakes.

The margins of the designated writing zone never moved yet somehow he always managed to over- or underestimate how much room he had on the paper, sentences skidding sideways. The level of concentration he needed to make letters fit between the lines was ridiculous and it usually led to him missing some crucial punctuation. The joints in his fingers ached with every painstaking swirl of the pencil, and that was when he put his all into typical uppercase.

Cursive was, true to the name, a curse, and his teacher was well aware. She couldn’t not be, considering the number of exasperated conversations she and Sans had about it after class. After just such an occasion this afternoon, Sans even put on the serious tone when they got home, cajoling Papyrus to explain what was wrong, to just be honest with him. If he had hurt his hand at some point and decided to hide it from him, if it had healed wrong and it was affecting his line work—

Some of their frustration must have rubbed off on him because Papyrus’ honesty was a little louder than necessary. “It didn’t heal wrong because I didn’t hurt it! Whenever I try to write, it hurts without being hurt! I can see—” That didn’t sit quite right in his mouth for the context. Hissing a sharp breath through his teeth, he adjusted. “I can vis-u-al-ize the words I want but my head can’t make my hand write them! Either hand. I’ve tried both!” When his brother’s eye sockets narrowed, his irritation gave way to pleading, his offending hands flailing at the equally offending worksheet. “Just look at it, Sans! I know those words and you know I know them! I can read them, I can say them, I just can’t make them!”

“You can’t,” Sans repeated, and though his tone was unreadable, it still stung. “Can’t”, however small it may be, was a word Papyrus rarely ever liked using, especially in regards to himself. He preferred to think with enough optimism and time, he could do anything! But this? Detailing every one of those curling, spiraling lines with no slips, no misjudging the size, no smudges or streaks?

“No, I…can’t.” Resisting the urge to hunch his shoulders, he lowered his gaze, took another sharp breath and tried to pretend it didn’t catch in his throat. “But…I can try harder. I can try really, really hard if it means my teachers will stop yelling at the both of us. And I apologize for yelling at you just now too.” That was rather hypocritical: h-y-p-o—

“Hey.”

Sans lightly nudged his mandible, coaxing him to peek back up. His sockets were still narrowed, still serious, but thankfully not disbelieving or angry.

“Just because you can’t do it doesn’t mean you aren’t trying. I’m an expert at not trying, remember? I think I’d know if you weren’t. And just because you’re trying real hard doesn’t mean you can’t have help. But if I wanna help, I need to know when something is hurting you. Cause your homework shouldn’t be doing that. Do your hands hurt every single time you write?”

“Not as much if it’s something short but…even then, the pencil doesn’t make the letters small enough to suit the smaller words. They sit right in my thoughts but not on the paper.”

“Huh. And your teacher, how often is she getting mad at you for this? As often as she gets mad at me?”

That sounded suspiciously like Sans using his casual words to achieve an effect Papyrus might not agree with (or even be privy to.) Why did it feel like he might get someone in trouble? “Only as often as I do it wrong…”

“Huh,” Sans exhaled again, and there was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it flash of anger, just as Papyrus happened to blink. “Well, seeing as she couldn’t be bothered to ask nicely, I don’t see why you should have to bother with this.”

“What? Why not? What does that mean?”

Sans shrugged, folding the paper with surprising neatness before tucking it into his jacket. “I’ll take care of it. I’ve slept through my third and fourth grade classes already; it ought to be a breeze.”

“Sans, you can’t just do my homework for me!” Papyrus sputtered incredulously. “That’s cheating! And it wouldn’t even be clever cheating, considering our very different, very well-known fonts!”

“Who said I was gonna do it for you? I’m just gonna supervise like Teach told me—heh, ‘like a real, proper guardian would’—while Papyrus does it.”

For a moment Papyrus had to uncharacteristically wonder if Sans had gotten enough sleep last night. “Right. Yes. Papyrus…which is me…who, as we just discussed, can’t do it.”

Sans’ only response to that was one of his annoyingly cryptic winks before he padded toward the stairs. “Our fonts are pretty recognizable, aren’t they?” he mused offhanded after three or four steps. “Couldn’t mistake ’em for anything but Comic Sans and Papyrus. We fonts are so recognizable, the computer’s got a database chalk full of ’em. In fact, I think I saw one under the P’s that looks juuust like you and it doesn’t even hurt. The wonders of technology!”

“Wha—Sans!” As soon as his brother took a shortcut out of sight, Papyrus was bounding toward the stairs, hollering after him. “That sounds like a lot of effort to not try while helping me, in the worst possible way!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you! Me and Papyrus are too busy studying real hard up here where it’s quiet,” Sans called down the hall. “And actually, we’re making so much progress and I’m so proud, I might just make a fancy printout of his work when he’s done to show your teacher!”

“Sans!”

Forgery: f-o-r-g-e-r-y.

#undertale #fanfiction #sans #papyrus #neurodivergent #dysgraphia #babybones #tw background ableism #brotherly love #sans is a good brother

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devildom-moss · 6 months

Text

Roses for You (12)

This had all started when you noticed a link between a book on the language of flowers you had borrowed from Satan’s room and the current lessons from your Seductive Speechcraft and Magical Potions classes.

In Seductive Speechcraft, you had just reached a section on the effectiveness of spells using non-verbal communication: enchanting glances, dance, and offerings. Meanwhile, in Magical Potions, the professor had been discussing the significance of using specific quantities when concocting potions; they had spent fifteen minutes just providing examples – including adding petals from two different flowers when using them for a love spell.

You couldn’t resist discussing the use of flower language – utilizing the type, color, and quantity of the flowers – to specify the magical intent of an offering as a form of seductive speechcraft. Asmo and Solomon listened intently. The same idea popped into both of their minds, and before you knew it, everyone was looking into color and number meanings, searching for the perfect combination to convey their feelings for you and try to put you under their spell. The only rule for their little competition to charm you? Only roses are allowed.

Will you be charmed by their attempts?

Twelve Roses - Solomon

Word Count: +800

Be mine?

(Nightbringer specific era)

“You know you don’t have to walk me back to my room, right?” You informed Solomon as his shoulder brushed against yours. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want him there, but Solomon had already planned the entire date – took care of everything and catered to your every whim. He didn’t need to keep it up.

“But I want to,” Solomon grinned at you so beautifully that you felt the need to deflect.

“Hoping to get a reward for such a lovely date?” you teased.

“I’d never refuse a reward from you, but spending the day with you was all the incentive I needed.” Solomon’s smile softened into something more contemplative. “We live together now, and I still find myself wanting more of your time.”

“Aww, do you get lonely?” you teased again, hoping to lighten the mood and brighten his smile.

“Yes.” He was straightforward.

Your face warmed and you were partly relieved to see your bedroom door. His honesty flustered you to a point of wishing to hide from his affectionate gaze. How were you expected to respond? It wasn’t as if you planned your days around avoiding him. The brothers (and to a lesser extent, Diavolo and the angels) just required so much of your effort and time. You enjoyed being with them, sure, but you had to work towards securing your pacts in this timeline – for both your sakes. Solomon understood that. So, at times, he found himself sustained on scraps of your attention, indulging whenever the opportunity arose. This was a bitter sacrifice, but the sweetness in knowing you returned home and laid your head to rest so near his own offset some of that sickening loneliness.

When you touched the doorknob, something felt off – some benign trace of magic. Did you leave a cursed book or magical item in there before you left and simply forgot about it? Maybe Thirteen was testing a trap out on you. If that was the case, you didn’t have much to worry about. Whatever it was, it wasn’t strong or evil, so you opened the door. There was something amiss – or rather, there was something unexpected waiting for you. On your bedside table was a vase of black and red roses that weren’t there when you left for your date with Solomon. You pursed your lips and took a closer look.

Please let this be a magical delivery, you hoped. The thought of someone entering your room while you were out was unsettling – no matter how pretty the flowers were. Upon closer inspection, the bouquet contained six red and six black roses for a total of twelve: a message saying, “be mine,” which only made the sudden appearance of them in your room creepier. Furthermore, black and red was a confusing combination. Red was the color of love and passion, but black was typically associated with death or mourning. Did you have a creepy yandere on your hands or something?

There was a small card tucked into the flowers with a hand-drawn heart scribbled in with a black pen on one side. You reached for it and checked the back for a message. For my adorable apprentice, you read, sighing in relief before you continued, did you really think I wouldn’t throw my hat in the ring, too? It was partially my idea, after all, and I want your affection as much as anyone else.

You shook your head with the tips of your fingers pressed to your temple. The gesture of annoyance was contradicted by your smile and a laugh. “How did you even get this in here? I locked the door when I left.”

“A magician never reveals his secret, my dear.” Solomon beamed.

“You’re a sorcerer.”

“I could be both,” he joked.

“Well, you do pull out magic as a party trick a lot.”

“You love my magical party tricks,” Solomon laughed and let himself into your room. Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. He lifted one of the red roses slightly, holding the stem between two fingers. “So, what does my adorable apprentice think?”

“I’m not sure what you mean to say with the black roses. Were you just trying to be mysterious? Or am I dying, and this is how I find out?” you half-joked, earning a gentle sigh from Solomon.

“You know how the death tarot card signifies changes and new beginnings? Black roses are the same.” You felt Solomon nuzzle into your neck before he continued. “Being back in time like this – it’s a new beginning for us, in a way. I got to start in this time, already loving you – and with you already loving me, I hope.”

“I love you,” you interrupted his uncharacteristic self-doubt. Maybe he shouldn’t have had a second glass of wine with dinner.

“Good.” Solomon left a kiss on your neck. “I want you to be mine. I want you to trust and love and rely on me. I want you to choose me when it really counts. . . Did you notice that there are six of both colors? That’s because I’m yours.”

“Solomon.” You squirmed away from his grasp just enough to turn in his arms and hold his face in your hands. “Do you want to stay the night? Maybe we can do something about that loneliness of yours.”

#solomon #gn!mc #obey me series #obey me #oh no only three more characters left #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #solomon x reader

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