#anyway her laugh is so whimsical i love it

[autistickaitovocaloid]

I know I said I'd only post 2 of these per day however I lied here's Sakine Meiko.

#vocaloid #fanloid #project diva #project diva extend #sakine meiko #i probably can't do more than 2-3 each day anyway because even if i draft posts tumblr's daily audio upload limit is like 10 files #depending on what happens i might just say fuck it and post the last 3 (luka haku + miku) all at the same time #anyway her laugh is so whimsical i love it #my rips

[widevibratobitch]

godddddd i wish preziosilla would fuck me nasty

#tragic incident. girl listens to verdi again. her thirst for the mezzo may be fatal. #more forza propaganda!!! #giulietta simionato marry me sit on my face queen #anyway. the love i have for preziosilla surprises even me. of all verdi mezzos she's the silliest for sure and generally quite useless #but when simionato (and dominguez!!!!! got but she's hot in that Forza Of All Time) sings her... #she's just full of so much effortless silly whimsical sex appeal. she does Things to me. #the way she's so obsessed with war is so hot too. also that girl pegged the living shit out of don carlo di vargas btw. if you even care. #la forza del destino #ma gnaffe a me non se la fa tralallalalalalala teehee pim pam pum rataplanplanplanplanplanplanplan #and other phrases that make me lose my mind with lust #giulietta simionato #im obsessed with you queen #the way she laughs too... not quite as cute as tebaldi but still hot af

[its-time-to-write]

in love with an idea

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

in love with an idea

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

“Hey!” you call. “You alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There he is. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t. 

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

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

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

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

You smile. 

That sounds great. 

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

[thestoryofusstan]

I'm Shining Like Fireworks

pairing: harry styles x fay!reader

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

almost magical.

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

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

—

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

“angelina! did you hear?”

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

“hear what?”

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

a boy, meaning he was younger than them.

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

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

“oh, really?”

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

“and.. how old is this.. boy?”

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

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

“you’re no fun.”

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i’d like a boquet, please.”

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

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

a shake of his head.

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

more like magic something together.

“can i get a name?”

“harry.”

she smiled. he was the new guy in town.

“what’s that smile for?”

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

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

“almost five,” she nodded.

“and yet no one knows your name.”

“angelina,” she supplied.

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

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

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

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

“rather fast, isn’t it?”

she shrugged, “i’m a hard worker.”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“your flowers, mr. harry.”

“thank you, ms. angelina.”

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

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

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

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

“an interesting perspective,” he commented.

“i suppose i’m full of them.”

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

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

“angel?”

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

—

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

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

“what do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what was it?”

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

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

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

he smirked, “odd, indeed.”

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

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

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

“aven?”

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

“and… where would i find aven?”

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

“what has she done?”

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

“huh..”

—

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

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

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

something wasn’t right here.

—

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

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

[aechii]

₍⁠₍ BOX OF MEMORiES ₎⁠₎

a.k.a good luck charm pt. 2

{read part 1}

PAiRiNG ?! childhoodfriend!kylian x black! femreader

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

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

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

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

TAGLiST ?! @mrs-bellingham

~°~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"so corny."

"yet who made it?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"just continue reading, kylian."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i forgot about these!"

kylian is dumbfounded, "marble crash?"

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

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

"there you go— telling lies."

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

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

"a win is a win, kylian."

he side eyes her, expression incredulous.

"unbelievable-"

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

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

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

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

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

"i will kick you out-"

"okay, okay! i'll stop."

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

"you're not touching messi ever again."

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

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

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

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

"still functioning."

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

"i do not!"

"yes you do!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what's the first one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'll tell him you said that."

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

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

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

"it was bound to happen."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"but that's good, right?"

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

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

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

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

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

"oh."

"what is it, ky?"

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

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

as promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i have to go."

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

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

"kylian, where are you going?"

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

"what did you forget?"

"nothing, i thought i had."

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

"call me when you get home, okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

+_-

'dear [y/n],

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

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

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

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

i love you.'

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

[inthewindandinthewater]

King of Frogs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[romione-trope-fest]

Say Yes To Heaven

Fic Title: Say Yes To Heaven

Author Name: flaming-brown-witch

Selected Trope: Weasley Weddings

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

Word Count: 1467

Rating: T

Any Trigger Warnings: none

  If you dance, I’ll dance

And if you don’t, I’ll dance anyway

Give peace a chance

Let the fear you have fall away

- “Say Yes to Heaven,” Lana Del Rey

“Okay. Out with it, Ron.”

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

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

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not.”

“Then what’s with the blushing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Myself,” she finished. 

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

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

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

“Wow,” Hermione whispered. 

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It can be at times.”

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

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

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

Ron made a face. 

"What?”

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

“Why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hermione lifted her head, highly intrigued. 

“Promise, Hermione.”

“Okay, okay, I promise.”

“I sort of…love ballet, too.” 

“You do?”

“Don’t take the mickey,” warned Ron. 

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

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

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

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

Hermione shook her head, still dazed by this revelation.

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

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

#submission #romione #weasley weddings

[gregorovitch-adler]

Chair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I’ve run out."

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

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

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

"She was probably right, really."

I close my eyes and wish I could be invisible.

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

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

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

Not that it matters now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Into Battle.

***

Prompt Chair by @onesmallfamily

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

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

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

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

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

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

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

Josh Elton: Mountain Jew. 13.45, Brewdog

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alice Fraser: Twist. 20.30, Underbelly, Bristo Square

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

#comedy #asks

[highfantasy-soul]

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

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

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

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

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

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

SECRET TUNNEEELLLL!!!

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

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

Flopsy statues!!!!!

Rolly ball throne? Nice touch

"Bumi? BUMI!!" :D

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

Katara's water pouch!!

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

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

FREEZE JET'S ASS!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HIPPIIEESSSS!!!!

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

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

Oma and Shu lesbian supremacy!!!

Always get chills when this story is told

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

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

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

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

The funeral scene

Leaves from the Vine

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

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

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

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

BADGERMOOOLLLEEE!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The power of friendship saves the day!!!

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

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

Bumi made Appa's whistle!!! 😭😭😭😭

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

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

[Masterlist of my NATLA thoughts]

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

[thepeculiarbird]

OC interview

Thanks @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag !

Let's do it with Danae! (pre-canon)

Are you named after anyone?

I mean, I know my name's from mythology but my parents don't really talk about it, they don't really talk to us anyway, they're too busy... Umm, everyone calls me Dan so I really don't know.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Oh woah, probably last week ?? or yesterday ? Yea no, last week, I fell of a skateboard ramp and it hurt sooo bad. Don't you dare laugh !

3. Do you have kids?

No, you sound like my dad. "When will I be a grandpa?"

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Yea, I think so.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their clothes, I can guess a lot of things about them with just that.

6. What's your eye colour?

Brown, let me look in the mirror... Yes brown.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

Why not both ? But scary movies, I know two persons who wouldn't agree with me haha!

8. Any special talents?

Are skateboarding and rollerskating special talents ?

9. Where were you born?

In Auvergne (France) but my parents moved out when I was around 15 and I've been living in the same place since.

10. Do you have any pets?

Yes! I have a white and grey cat called Cloud, we love her so much!

11. What sort of sports do you play?

I guess skateboarding and rollerskating are considered sports so that.

12. How tall are you?

175 cm (5'89ft for the ones not using the metric system)

13. What was your favorite subject in school?

P.E. and Physics

14. What is your dream job?

I never had a dream job and never knew what I wanted to be so now I'm just working in a fast food while most of my friends are in college. Don't do like me, kids.

It took awhile but I'm done!

Tag : @raiden-makoto @sarandipitywrites @jaelink @aalinaaaaaa @lyutenw @buffythevampirelover @nettleandthorne @finxi-writes @arwenschepers @corruptedbread @whimsical-blood-fairy @unrepentantcheeseaddict @kidukami @ryns-ramblings @rowenas-my-fave-child @mysticstarlightduck + open

#writing #writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #project lmotr #writers #project dgkotr #don't get killed on the road #🛹 #☁️

[emmabirb8]

I'm not usually one to hop on a hype train (heck, most the time it seems I end up joining fandoms WAAAYY late, lol), and I'm sure I'm not the only one to say this, but Bluey, man. Bluey is fantastic. It deserves the hype.

Not only does this show flaunt gorgeous animation paired with cute, whimsical musical scores that complement the themes of the episodes, it's also smart, sweet, funny, realistic, creative, and most importantly, genuinely wholesome. Every episode I've seen so far has left me with a smile and a true warm and fuzzy feeling (and I've laughed at least once per episode too, the humor is great). The child characters act like children do in real life, and the parents interact with them in a playful and healthy way that engages their imaginations as well as teaches them important skills and lessons.

And what really stands out to me - the parents respect and actively listen to their kids, and they apologize when they are the cause of whatever issues they might be having (like when Bingo admitted that Bandit had been playing too rough with her, or when Chilli inadvertently hurt Bluey's feelings by placing a drawing of Bingo's on top of hers on the fridge). These are incredibly important aspects of a healthy parent/child relationship, and it is SO refreshing to see such instances highlighted in so many episodes. Seriously, I don't think I've EVER seen such a loving, interactive, and receptive representation of parents on... well, anything. Bandit and Chilli Heeler should win ALL the parenting awards. <3

In recent years, we've gotten a lot of animated series' aimed at younger kids and teens that adults also highly appreciate. But it's rare that a kid's show aimed at toddlers/preschoolers like this one can manage to strike that perfect balance where kid and adult viewers alike can learn valuable information and be thoroughly entertained (and get hit right in the feels every once in a while, too). Bluey manages to capture that balance flawlessly. The overall vibe comes across more like an animated film as opposed to a tv series tbh.

Anyway, Bluey is great and you should all go check it out asap!

#bluey #bluey show #bluey cartoon #bluey heeler #bingo heeler #bandit heeler #chilli heeler #bandit and chilli heeler #heeler family #tv shows #bluey meta #parenting #my posts

[literatemisfit]

Hi! I don’t have a subscription so I can’t read this full article you posted.

https://www.tumblr.com/literatemisfit/720928934490980352/david-tennant-on-his-wife-georgias-cancer-scare

Could you possibly give a summary or copy/paste what it says (if you’re comfortable with it)? Especially that last part you mentioned as being especially sweet?

Somehow when I went to open it I also got stuck behind a paywall so they must have added one. But I was able to use incognito mode and get access to it anyway. I've copy pasted the entire thing for you so you can see what I mean by sweet ;)

See below:

Georgia Tennant is recalling the moment, at the start of the pandemic, when she realised she was going to be locked down with her husband. ‘David was supposed to be filming in South Africa,’ explains the 38-year-old actor and producer. ‘But then there was a series of phone calls, South Africa shut down, and he turned to me and said: “I’m not going back”.’

Georgia and I share a look that speaks volumes: about the slo-mo dawning experienced by wives all over the world when it became clear they would be trapped with the man they’d promised to love and cherish – but not, crucially, have lunch with every day for weeks on end. About what became more like the premise of a twisted reality TV show when those weeks turned into months

‘I remember having this sudden realisation…’ Glancing at her Scottish stage and screen star husband, Georgia pauses, blue eyes wide, and at this point I’m already smiling because I think I know what’s coming. ‘That, oh my gosh, David’s just going to be here, the whole time.’ I nod compassionately. ‘Which obviously I’d never had before.’ Another nod. We’ve all been there. 

‘And just thinking: that’s really exciting!’

Oh… It’s a needle-across-vinyl moment and I stop mid-nod and stare. Georgia and I are not on the same page. In fact, she seems to be reading an entirely different book: this wife can’t think of anything nicer than being holed up with her husband of 12 years.

‘We just really like each other,’ she says once all three of us have stopped laughing. ‘Even now, we like hanging out with each other more than we like hanging out with anyone else.’ Some might say that’s a pretty good basis for a marriage. ‘Exactly. And when all the kids are around it’s like a commune here, which I love.’

With a semi-apologetic shrug the 52-year-old Doctor Who and Broadchurch star confirms, ‘It’s true.’ There’s no way around it: he too just really likes his wife. ‘In fact, the more time we spend together the more we get on,’ he says. And although I’m not sure I can deal with any more bombshell revelations so early on in an interview, this is probably just as well. Because the Tennants didn’t just end up marooned on the couch together for the duration of the pandemic – with their five children, Ty, 21, Olive, 12, Wilfred, 10, Doris, seven, and Birdie, three – but filming a lockdown TV comedy series, Staged, which became the surprise summer comedy hit of 2020.

The whimsical meta sitcom follows David’s fractious friendship with Welsh actor Michael Sheen as they plan various ill-fated ventures from either side of the world on Zoom. Only this isn’t reality TV, but a hammed-up version. Its two actors forever making a drama out of a crisis, as their partners watch, bemused, occasionally stepping in when things get out of hand.

Georgia and Swedish actress Anna Lundberg’s attitude is probably best described by the bumper sticker quote: ‘Behind every successful man is a woman rolling her eyes’, and audiences liked them so much that their roles get progressively bigger with each series.

Amazingly, Staged outlived the pandemic premise it was built on and I’m here today, in a sleek home office at the back of the couple’s west London home, to talk about the third and final series, which is currently airing on BBC One. Having spent the past 24 hours binge-watching six episodes of the show, I’m slightly thrown by how dialled-down the real David and Georgia are compared with their on-screen personas. He’s far less wild-haired and neurotic in real life – perhaps in part because after a trip to the dental hygienist this morning, he’s not yet been allowed his coffee – and she’s just as beautiful, with the same poise she maintains throughout Staged, but more amused than exasperated, today, by her man.

‘This wasn’t our first project together,’ David reminds me when I ask whether working on the show together over three years didn’t tip this perfect partnership over the edge. ‘After all, Georgia and I did meet on set.’

It’s true that it was while he was playing the Tenth Doctor in 2008 that he met his future wife, who was cast as his genetically engineered daughter in the BBC show. Does Georgia still get endless joy from that? ‘Oh, I’ve had 15 years of joy from that,’ she flings back. ‘Of course, I was already 900 years old at the time,’ David deadpans.

After the Doctor Who years, the pair went on to co-star in the 2017 film, You, Me and Him, which Georgia also produced. Still, when it came to filming Staged, he got ‘incredibly nervous’, he admits. ‘I think we were quite anxious about what that would… do, weren’t we?’

His wife murmurs her agreement, although like her Staged character she seems serene and in control and it’s easy to imagine her talking David down from various ledges in daily life. 

For all their harmony, they seem quite different. Certainly, they come from different backgrounds. As the daughter of actors Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson, Georgia was born into the profession, making her debut at 15 in ITV’s Peak Practice, before going on to appear in shows such as Where the Heart Is, Like Father Like Son and The Last Detective.

Bathgate-born David, meanwhile, is the son of a Presbyterian church minister, who attended the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama and established himself with the Royal Shakespeare Company and National Theatre early on. After winning the game-changing role of Doctor Who at 34, he has continued to demonstrate his versatility as an actor, flitting from hard-hitting TV dramas like Des in 2020 (playing serial killer Dennis Nilsen) and Litvinenko in 2022 (as the former Russian spy) to playing a demon in Amazon’s ongoing fantasy series Good Omens. Then there’s his stage work: the recent West End play Good, in which he played a professor drawn into Nazism, and a forthcoming stint as Macbeth at London’s Donmar Warehouse in December.

Despite his success, the actor has suffered from acute anxiety ever since he was a boy, fretting about everything from ‘not being good enough’ and ‘being found out’ (as he told one interviewer in 2019) to the loss of anonymity he knew he’d experience back in 2005, when he was cast as a TV hero he’d idolised from the age of three. ‘Because with a show like Doctor Who,’ he tells me, ‘it’s on a different scale.’ 

As anyone who suffers from anxiety knows, the primary, all-consuming worry is that everything ‘probably will go wrong’ at any given moment. In 2018 something did go very wrong when Georgia was diagnosed with cervical cancer – something she shared in her blog, despite usually being a private person. ‘I thought it was easier than having to phone everyone and tell them,’ she explains today.

‘It was a very weird experience,’ muses David. ‘Because we found out the bad news after it had been dealt with, so we had the relief at the same time as the horror.’ 

Following an abnormal smear test result, Georgia had a biopsy and a cervical excision to remove the tissue causing concern. It was only after that procedure that test results showed the cells had been cancerous. David pauses, looking at his wife. ‘At least we were spared the prospect of living with, “You’ve got this, and can it be caught?” But I still have these flashbacks of “What if you hadn’t…?”’ He shakes his head. ‘I don’t think I acknowledged at the time how serious it could have been.’

The couple were too busy ‘just dealing with each stage’, David goes on. ‘The slightly funky test and then going in and having the biopsy.’ 

‘But I did make you answer the phone, when we were waiting to hear [the results],’ Georgia cuts in. ‘I obviously knew there was going to be something, so David got the news first: that it was bad but that they’d got rid of it. And then he made me get on the phone so that I could hear it from the doctor myself, because he knew that was something I needed to do.’

Afterwards, ‘both of us were just numb,’ David murmurs. ‘It was such a Sliding Doors moment. Even a few months later it could have been too late.’ 

‘Which is why now,’ Georgia concludes wryly, ‘I’ll tell everyone with a cervix: go and get yourself checked.’

With the couple’s eldest son Ty now a successful actor – having starred in the TV series War of the Worlds and HBO’s House of the Dragon – and Olive, then 10, making her big-screen debut in Kenneth Branagh’s Oscar-winning film Belfast, two years ago, I’m curious to know how they both feel about their brood following in their footsteps? ‘I just want them to be happy and to be able to survive in the world,’ Georgia says. ‘So if acting is what they want to do…’

It helps that the industry feels fairer now in almost every way, they believe, and we segue into a discussion about inclusivity and ‘real representation’ in acting – meaning, for example, that only LGBTQ actors should play LGBTQ roles. Until we’re all caught up, David maintains, ‘you have to protect those spaces for actors who come from those communities’.

It also helps that the industry is a safer place for women now than it was 10 years ago, says Georgia. ‘Because it 

definitely is,’ she adds. ‘Things happened to me when I was younger that I now realise were not great, but at the time I thought it was all part of it – that I had to laugh them off. I’m talking about situations that made me feel uncomfortable,’ she explains. ‘Now I would be able to say so, but at the time the dialogue just wasn’t there. And I don’t think any of our kids would have to feel like that now. Even if they did, they would have the words and the people behind them to say: “that’s not OK”.’

David is currently filming the Disney+ series Rivals, based on Jilly Cooper’s famous bonkbuster, he tells me. ‘And there’s an “intimacy co-ordinator” on that because there’s quite a lot of shagging, so everyone’s being very appropriate and careful.’ 

But doesn’t it feel strange having your sex scenes ‘co-ordinated’? ‘Oh, it’s ludicrous.’ He grins. ‘Because it means you’re making the most intimate, private moments very compartmentalised and that there’s someone there asking the embarrassing questions nobody did historically – but that’s because you’re not doing these things with your actual partner. So that’s another thing that has got better over the years.’ He tilts his head to one side, narrows his eyes: ‘That said, there are still lots of reasons not to become an actor.’

This seems as good a place to end as any, and as the Tennants take me back through the garden to a side gate, Georgia tells her husband she’s ‘going for a manicure – and you have to come with me’. When I leave they’re still bickering gently, with David asking: ‘Why do I have to come?’ I don’t catch his wife’s reply, but I suspect it’s just because she really likes him.

#david tennant #georgia tennant #interview

[yuezhong]

Cottagecore

a/n: can you believe this has been sitting in my drafts since last year. Anyway, without further ado I present to you my own take on the cottagecore aesthetic featuring Eula,Albedo,Kaeya,Zhongli and Kazuha!! 

Addendum: Dedicating Kaeya,Albedo and Kazuha's parts to my dearest friends <3. Starfell, my dear/p thank you so much for helping me manage my genshin account during my period of absence (due to finals). We have known each other for quite a while now and I have come to treasure our friendship a lot, thank you for everything you've done for me up until now. It's my turn to return the favour <3. 

Rei, I have come to know you for quite some time now as well, thank you for being a good friend and joining in on me and Starfell's shenanigans in our server haha.

Almond gege!! Though it's been a while since we last talked via dms it's still a lot of fun when I get to talk to you!! I adore your writing style and enjoy interacting with you in general :3 I genuinely cherish you as a friend and am hoping for the best for our friendship!! 

And now I'm done expressing my gratitude and platonic lovemail, happy reading!!

warnings: none

notes:© all rights belong to yuezhong. Eula Lawrence, Albedo Kreideprinz, Kaeya Alberich, Zhongli and Kaedehara Kazuha belong to Hoyoverse. Please do not plagiarize or copy any of my works and upload them anywhere. Reblog if you enjoyed! It helps a lot <3. Taglist form is still closed as of now.

☆ EULA LAWRENCE

Born into a life of wealth and luxury, EULA never had to worry about the woes of being in poverty nor fret over being unable to place food on her plate. 

Despite indulging in the multitudinal privileges of a silver spoon, she longs for freedom. She yearns to dance shoeless amongst large, open prairies beyond her comfortable, but stuffy abode. She yearns to run through the village streets, arms linked with friends while laughing heartily without a care in the world.

Because surely, she was meant for more than just practised smiles, business negotiations, and the inevitable arranged marriage with another influential industrial partner to expand her family’s power? 

Yearning leads to wanting, wanting leads to acting on one’s desires. Eula embodies this by her recent absences in her lessons; opting to go on introspective strolls in the nearby woodland to recollect her thoughts. 

When tutors came knocking on the door of Lord and Lady Lawrence to file yet another complaint of their eldest’s disappearance, the owners of the manor could only release twin huffs of exhausted exasperation; for they knew there was nothing they could do about their daughter’s one-track mind on her quests for freedom, though they were transient. 

The unpredictability of what life had to offer was daunting, yet oh-so wondrous at the same time. Chancing upon you was one of the latter. 

It was just one step of absent-mindedness, an innocent meeting of eyes.

Your congregation with her was fairytale-esque, whimsical with a touch of something reminiscent of a past love story. Perhaps you two were soulmates of a crueller past?; Bound once more by fate’s merciful hand. 

Whatever the circumstances that led to the two of you currently curling into the other’s embrace could not change one thing though: Her family would never approve of the blooming feelings between you two. This you know well. 

After all, why would they give their blessings entailing their daughter’s happiness to an outcast like you? Much less a witch. You are branded a sinner for your practices in sorcery, a cesspool of evil (or that was what most thought).

But in Eula’s eyes, she saw none of that sort. 

You are her safe haven, the fields of elysium where she can frolic blissfully all day long. And to secure the safety of it, she will brave every snowstorm, cut through biting frost thrown against both of you by the rest of the world. 

☆ALBEDO KREIDEPRINZ

As the sole medical practitioner in his village, ALBEDO is exalted for his role.

He takes pride in his line of work; but never exudes hubris for his achievements. Ever the humble worker, he tends to all with kindness: welcoming them with open arms entwined with generosity. 

Other than his amicable presence, his intellect is another one of the driving forces that gravitates people towards him. 

Scholars and members of academia alike sing praises for his sincere manner of speech, his efficacy in carrying out tasks. Cordial words bring the gist of topics in his medical presentations to life; holding candle light to Minerva’s clever hand in weaving embroidered tales. Yet his diligence keeps him on the right path, never straying from his destination. Patients recount his gentleness in treating their ailments, not once uttering words of ill-intent about their pains or the lengthy periods of time needed to guide them to full-recovery. 

Not born a social butterfly, Albedo instead opts to sit in the shade of his veranda⎯⎯ a structure of respite within the large expanse of the garden surrounding his cottage. He’d sit cross-legged with a book in hand on one of the chairs⎯⎯wrought carefully of fine mahogany as he savoured his favourite blend of tea languidly. 

It is only when he hears your voice does his ears perk up (figuratively). Carefully, he slots his bookmark between the pages to mark the passage he stopped on prior to your arrival. 

“Albedo!” 

He could feel the corners of his lips quirk up faintly at the sound of your voice as you jog towards him. Ah, what a lovely day to spend it outside.  

☆ KAEYA ALBERICH

“The word trouble and KAEYA go hand in hand.” These are the whispers of superficial neighbours that often reach your ears.

As his playmate who has seen him through thick and thin since young, you dismiss their hollow words easily. There is certainly more depth to Kaeya than it meets the eye; the many layered undertones of his character and complex past are two of the few clandestine things he entrusts you with. 

As the son of your village’s chief, it is not uncommon to find him out and about. This could be the direct link to the so-called “trouble” he causes, which is in reality just people’s misinterpretations of his intentions; and on top of that he somehow always manages to find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

His unintentional penchant for attracting misfortune has left even his close ones baffled. And so, you take it upon yourself to rectify or at least mitigate this inborn unfortunate trait of his. 

“Kaeya!” 

A few soft taps against the glass window of the wooden hut where he shares residence with his father snaps him out of the dazed trance he somehow managed to fall into. Kaeya shifts his gaze to the source of your suppressed cry, grey eye glinting with a fondness only reserved for you and you alone. 

Gingerly, he presses both palms onto the cool, flat surface of both panes. Then after he has made sure you backed away completely from the window, he exerts a little more pressure onto the panes. 

“Hi.” His familiar, half-crescent smile greets you. 

“Hi.” Reciprocating with a grin, you rummage through the burlap sack, sifting through the various items stored away inside which were not visible to Kaeya’s wandering eye. 

“It’s an amulet, to keep you out of trouble.” You smile, cupping the said object in your hand with practised caution before placing it into his. 

Cooing a flirtatious “thank you, darling~ I will be sure to return the favour.” directly into your ear, Kaeya leans forward to press a kiss onto your cheek. He only chuckled at your attempts to hide your flustered state as he slipped off into the sableness of the night, guided by Luna's mellow rays. 

☆ZHONGLI

Toiling away at his crops diligently, ZHONGLI pauses to wipe the sweat away from his brows with the back of his hand. 

“Ah,hello.” He smiles warmly, tipping his straw hat in jest at you. Chuckling at the sound of your laugh at his little gesticulation, he beckons you into his cottage with a courteous hand.

 What awaits you inside are two earthen cups (moulded by his clever hand on his potter’s wheel) of lukewarm tea 𑁋 lavender, he informs. Ever the gentleman, Zhongli pulls your chair out for you as you set your things down by the door. 

An hour of idle chit-chat and degusting his wonderful tea later, he noticed your furrowed brows were directed at something outside one of the windows. Following your line of sight, he instantly knew why as soon as he set his eyes on a cluster of cumulonimbus clouds gathering in the sky.

“Would you like to stay over?” He proffered. 

A timid “yes please, apologies for the intrusion.” draws the smile you love so much from his lips. 

☆ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

As a wanderer, KAZUHA has acclimated to the various perks and quirks of life on the-go. Whether it be finding lodgings in peculiar places or the capricious storms Inazuma brings.

Occasionally though, he would take a break from his nomadic lifestyle and settle down in small villages or suburban towns bustling with life for as long as he feels like it. 

That was how he was going to spend the rest of his life 𑁋 as a drifter, free as the winds captured by the sails of his raft he always relied upon to take him to new places; or so he thought.

A fond smile replaces his once neutral countenance as Kazuha gazes at the band of his ring resting snugly around his fourth finger. It has been a year since he became wedded to you and settled down for good. Yet, it still feels like a dream to him.

Kazuha’s mind couldn’t help but navigate its way back to the day before his promise of devoting himself to you as his bandaged fingers traced over the ring’s cool surface. You and him met by mere happenstance, it was as if fate had woven this indeterminate path for him and you were the one who lifted the mist that veiled it. 

Your magnanimity is something he will be eternally grateful for. Had you not offered to share your cottage with him when it was peak tourist season, he would have been homeless. 

Ah, your profession of your feelings to him is another one of the memories he holds dear in his repertoire. 

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” If you had been any softer, the words that slipped from your lips would have been whisked away by the tranquil night breeze.

His eyes fluttered shut in content. Kazuha nodded in assent.

“Indeed. I would be delighted to watch it together with you for as long as we shall live.”

You are half his soul, his north star and his inspiration for the poetry he waxes.

➵❁Taglist: @almond-adeptus @scribs-dibs @s4egusas @lilikags @thesapphirecake

#bouquets from the florist ❧《💐》 #eula x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #kaeya x reader #kaeya fluff #kaeya x reader fluff #eula x reader fluff #eula lawrence #zhongli #zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader fluff #kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader fluff #kaedehara kazuha #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader fluff

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

@monthly-challenge 2024 | 2. Long Walks

I used this prompt for my original characters, Nathan and Patience: the story is under the cut.

Word count: 1,083

Patience was playing a nocturne when Nathan stuck his head in the door. “Patience, you busy?” he asked as she paused.

“What does it look like?” she chided him lightheartedly, and he had the grace to look somewhat shamefaced.

“Would you come for a walk with me afterwards?” he asked. “While I’m at it—what nocturne is that? It’s a nocturne, right?”

“Yes.” She turned back to the piano. “Chopin. Thirteenth.”

“Ah,” he breathed softly. “It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” After a moment’s pause, she began to play it again. Her touch was light and delicate, her eyes brimful and the occasional hints of power precisely what the piece needed. He stood and listened, watching her strong slender hands leap from key to key, a smile occasionally gracing her mouth. Once she paused to wipe tears from her eyes. The playing was imperfect, but to the eyes of love that watched her all imperfections were smoothed out and it was better than any master. At the end she held still for a moment while the vibrations gently ceased, then got up. “Did you want to go for that walk?” she asked, in a voice as gentle as the music she had been playing.

Nathan smiled at her. “I’d love to,” he agreed, and held out his arm.

She accepted it, holding herself very primly until he laughed, at which point her own facade crumbled. “Oh, you’d make no good fine lady,” he told her. “You’d be laughing at every little thing.”

“Is there a problem with that?” she asked, with a luminous glance at him. “Surely laughter is good.”

“Laughter is a balm to the soul,” Nathan agreed, and picked up her hand to kiss it. As he did so he made eye contact with her. Letting go of her hand, he continued, “I could wax poetic about it, but instead, we can go for a walk.”

“Poetic enough,” she agreed. “Walking brings out all the poetry in you.”

He smiled exuberantly and skipped like a lamb to the door, trying and failing to click his heels for added effect.

Her laugh was like falling water in the background. “I love you.” Then Patience stopped, paused and took a breath. “I—” She wasn’t about to say she didn’t mean it, because she meant it more than she had meant anything for a very long time.

“You what?” he asked, very softly, and watched her.

Patience squirmed under his gaze. “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “But I’m never, never, never going to say I don’t love you.”

“Ah!” he breathed triumphantly. “I had hoped so.” They passed through the door, and his fingers brushed hers. She let him take her hand.

Walking hand in hand was a little awkward, but worth the awkwardness. Her cheeks were flushed and Patience told herself it was because of the exercise they had just begun. After a few minutes of sunlit walking Patience let go of his hand, and Nathan glanced at her and picked up the pace. Today she hadn’t brought her camera, so she was glad to stretch her legs more swiftly than usual. Presently she was breathless.

“Are you all right?” asked Nathan calmly, seeming unaffected.

“Yeah—I’m fine, I’m just a dying asthmatic,” she said, laughing breathlessly.

“Good. Tell me if you need us to slow down.”

“Oh, no—no! I love this kind of speed!” They were quickly leaving the beaten track and heading into an area that was wetter, greener and less populated. There were hardly any people around now, and they walked across grass rather than pavement.

“Shall we disappear into the woods?” he asked whimsically.

“‘Woods’ seems the wrong word,” said Patience. “Woods seems a very—well, a very English sort of word, don’t you think? This isn’t all oaky and bluebells and stuff, this is real Australian bush.”

“‘Real’? This is barely the start of it. Have you been into a real wild area, like the Grampians where there aren’t tracks and you aren’t supposed to go but you go anyway?”

“Nope,” she said regretfully. “We’ve barely ever been to the Grampians.”

“Someday I’ll take you there,” he promised. “We’ll walk up Stapylton and scramble Hollow Mountain and look down all the crevices I was too scared to on my own when I was last there, only I’ll feel safe with you. And we can walk and talk and take all the time in the world, and then we can be up top with the wind in our faces and joy in our hearts. How does that sound?”

Patience was enchanted by his glowing-eyed explanation. “That sounds beautiful. I’ve never been up Stapylton; it was too far away from where we were staying.”

“Halls Gap?”

A nod.

“Yeah, no wonder. There are closer mountains in the Wonderland area. Though Stapylton isn’t that far.”

“True, but as you said, there are closer ones. I wanted to go, but Dad said we’d run out of time, and besides, it was too windy.”

“Got to be careful with the wind; I wouldn’t want you to be blown off or something. You’d love the sandstone caves, though.”

“Would I just! I believe you; I’ve heard good things about them. O-oh, Nathan! When can we go?”

It was his turn to be captivated by her. “Anytime you like. I’d take you there tomorrow if I could.”

“I know you would,” she replied charmingly. “For now we should keep walking.” They had paused, staring at one another. “Wouldn’t want to clog up the grass.”

“You make it sound like we’re something from inside a drain or something,” he retorted, grinning. “Dribbling out onto the grass like forgotten socks the washing machine ate.”

Patience stared at him for a moment, then burst out laughing, exclaiming his name as soon as she could speak again. “That’s not what washing machines do!”

“Why do you say that? They might be secretly conspiring to eat your socks. Goodness knows socks go astray.”

“I know they do,” said she, sobering a little, “but they don’t dribble out onto the grass!” Patience covered her mouth, slightly embarrassed by her outburst, but Nathan was grinning.

“Why on earth not? Entertain the idea a moment.”

“I’ve entertained it a moment. Horrifying.”

“You could say that,” he agreed, and grinned again. “Gotcha. One of these days, I’ll make you laugh and you’ll never stop.”

“Listen, I know you meant that to be romantic, but that’s a slightly horrifying idea too.”

“Fair point.”

tagging @stealingmyplaceinthesun @graycedelfin @pilgrimsofworship and @choasuqeen

#februfluff2024 #nathan #patience #I think the mention of her NOT being to Stapylton may contradict other things I've written but I don't have time right this instant to chec #Stapylton is my favourite mountain ever y'all come to Australia and climb it! on a non windy day tho

[cherievol6]

mum’s night out

new dad!harry !!!!!!!!!!!! my favourite

Harry wants you to have a night off from mummy duties

word count: around 800

warnings: tiny bit of swearing but that’s it. just cuteness upon cuteness. not edited rly

.

Harry's lax grin that hasn't even changed a single bit since you first met him is spread across his cheeks, a twinkle in his eye as he watches you walk past him on the sofa. Your tiny baby girl rests on his chest and it makes your heart tingle, seeing him being so domestic with her.

"You've got to be joking."

You must admit, you'd picked out your glad rags for this party you were going to, so it might have been a shock for Harry to see you dressed in anything but sick-stain T-shirts and joggers.

"Oh, didn’t see you there." You say faux-whimsically, grinning and running a hand down your hip to smooth the black dress down your body. You like to refer to this as your Bridget Jones dress, because you'd snatched it off the rack in a charity shop when it reminded you of the one she wore in the film.

"M’sure you didn’t.” He teases. “Where did you pull that little number from, eh?" Harry drawls, eyes shamelessly skirting up and down your body as you fiddle with your bag to retrieve your lipstick.

"Oh this old thing? Charity shop in town. 8.99." You grin, and Harry throws his head back in a laugh, quieting himself when he accidentally jostles the baby with his shaking shoulders.

"I'll have to write the person who donated that dress a very long thank you note. Possibly with a gift." He winks, rising from his seat and gently placing the sleeping baby down in the cot to the side of the room, one you kept down there so you could watch her whilst you cleaned (you were a paranoid first-time mum).

"Oh shush. I just needed something to wear for this party. It's the nicest thing I own next to those leggings with the unknown stain.” You snort.

"I like those leggings.” He hums. “But I love this even more, baby." He slinks over to you, tone low as he skirts a hand just to the base of your spine.

"You're not allowed to flirt with me when our daughter is a few feet away." You scold, lifting an eyebrow but placing your hands against his chest anyway.

"I can't help it. Her mum just looks so fucking good—" his face hovers to the side of yours as his lips ghost over your cheek, leaving a tender kiss there. "how can I convince you to stay home, hm?"

You shake your head and laugh, trying to push him away as he grins cheekily. "No! This is my first night out in ages. I need a drink, babe."

"And who was the one who decided last time she was supposed to go for a drink that she just couldn't bear the thought of leaving her baby girl for more than twenty minutes, hm?"

It was true. Your first night out after her birth, you spent ten minutes crying at your makeup table whilst Harry consoled you with a bewildered look, coaxing you to get yourself ready and trying to push you out of the door so you could have a break from being a newborn mum just for a night. You called him twenty minutes after getting to the bar in tears and asked if he would come and get you, which of course he did, and you barrelled through the door to embrace your child.

"You're no better! You rang me every ten minutes when you were golfing with Niall to check that she was okay. And then you skipped the last nine holes to come home!"

Harry's fingers pinch your hips, "oi. I don't like missing feeding time!"

You kiss him sweetly and run a hand through his unruly curls, "I know. I know. You're a good dad."

"You're a better mum. That's why—" he pries your hands away and clasps them, turning you towards the door by your hips, "you need to go and have some you-time. We'll still be here when you get back, and then you can snuggle her all you want. And me, if you're feeling generous." He winks, swatting you on the bum.

"Okay, okay. I'm going." You sigh, grabbing your bag and sweeping over the cot, blowing a gentle air kiss to your daughter and running a gentle finger over her cheek before turning to your husband.

"I'll see you later, baby." You mumble, smearing your lips over his and watching him wink from the door as you jog to your friend's car that idles in the driveway.

.

"Lovie?" Harry's voice sighs apprehensively through the phone forty minutes later, the tv blaring in the background. He’d had hope that you would stay out at least a little bit longer tonight. You’d beat the record by twenty minutes…

"Hey. H..." you pause. Harry knows exactly what's coming.

“She’s fine, y’know. Fast asleep next to her daddy.”

"Good.” You swallow. “S’loud here. I think the alcohol is giving me a headache, or something. I think I might need to get to bed.” Your voice is timid.

“Ready for bed already?” He asks pointedly.

"Mhm." Your voice is nothing convincing.

There's a long pause as Harry glances over to where your baby sleeps peacefully. He silently thanks the Gods that you were graced with a heavy-sleeping baby, so it would be easy to manoeuvre her into a car seat.

"We'll be there soon. Hang tight, honey."

.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles boyfriend #harry styles oneshot #harry styles husband #harry styles story #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #husband!harry #boyfriend harry #husbandrry