#1. like I'm absolutely thrilled. but I'm just like. what?? how???? are you sure???? did someone do their math wrong?????? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chronicallyonline101 · 5 days ago

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Requested by anon!

I really liked this request, I was originally going to do something small with just HCs but i thought of a cute little scenario and I wanted to share it... the oneshot REALLY isnt that good and its ends quite abruptly because TUMBLR decided to delete my entire draft and i had to start again BUT ITS FINE. ITS WHATEVER. i hope you like this!

Public Enemy #1

La Squadra Di Esecuzioni x Ex-Idol!Reader || HCs and small oneshot.

- So, you're an idol. Everyone loves you, everyone wants to be you! But it's kind of... bad. It's bad. It's overwhelming, tiring, and stressful - what had once been a fun hobby quickly turned sour, with managers and agents always on your back about how much you weighed, how good you looked, how well you sang.

- Eventually, it stopped being fun, and turned to a chore. You hated it, you hated who you had become. I'm not sure what you did to get out of it, but something bad happened and you ran away.

- And what better place to go when you run away, than to a criminal organisation!

- I think, to join Passione, you would have had to totally wipe your identity - there is NO way they would let someone famous like yourself join, but since you had never really been that popular in Italy they allowed you the courtesy of an identity wipe.

- New hair, new clothes, new name - you had become someone new, and it was perfect. Of course, there were still traces of your old self.

- Risotto was the only one who knew who you had been, because he was your boss - and because of this, he was fiercely protective of keeping your identity a secret. For the protection of the team, and for yourself.

- There were times when you were out with public and someone would notice. They'd do a double take, staring at you while they tried to figure out where it was they had recognised your face, but in the end they'd be scared off by the wolfish man hovering over your shoulder.

- And of course, no one else on the team knew why he acted like that, because they had all been kept in the dark regarding your identity. Which you hoped would last - it was embarrassing.

- None of them seemed like the kind of people to have listened to the music you made, so you assumed none of them would have seen you, even at your peak - but, of course, nothing ever went your way, did it?

It was a day like no other. Napoli, Italy, though saddled with industrial waste and shittily built tat-shops, was a thrilling place. Palm leaves, dried up in the midday sun and carried along by a sweeping oceanic breeze, would rattle across the ground and flitter between the unsteady feet of tourists. In the summer, the sky was always blue and puffy clouds were never there to hinder the beaming sun. It was truly the perfect place.

But by far, the best thing about Napoli was that; absolutely no one knew who you were. And that is what you needed, after the shit-show that had been your life - your fame, though prominent in the West, had never peaked throughout mainland Europe, and so the shores of Italy had proven a safe place for you to lay down low while you recuperated from the glitzy, glamorous life that had been your upbringing. It was with this thought, and a long, pleasant sigh, you walked down the dry, cobble street. A brisk skip in your step and a small smile spread across your lips, that was until, the broad-shouldered man in front of you suddenly halted all movement.

An unsteady huff left your body when you walked right into his back, and you tumbled backward unsteadily. "Eugh, hey! Maggie, what's the hold up---"

"---Hey, we should stop in here." Formaggio's gritty voice called out. He looked to you over his shoulder, a mischievous grin etching into his typically calm features.

You caught your footing, shooting him a glare that was quick to fade when he turned to point at the building he had been talking about. Your gaze shifted toward the shop. It was a scraggly thing; dirtied windows framed by wood with peeling red paint, it had a few posters plastered across the door - worn with age and torn at their edges. It looked like the kind of place you'd get stabbed, and so, seeking to evade any more conflict than what was needed, you took to Formaggio's side and nudged at him to continue forward.

"We don't have time for that, we're on a mission, remember? That guy isn't going to kill himself." You looked to him with wide, pleading eyes. An expression he chose to ignore in favour of wafting a dismissive hand in your direction.

"Eh, relax a little." He slapped a hand atop of your shoulder blades, guiding you toward the shop with ease. "Like you said, that guy isn't gonna kill himself - which means, he isn't going anywhere! Let's take a second to look at this place, it looks cool."

He offered you no such chance to disagree, promptly pushing you forward and into the rugged building. A rusty bell chimed above your heads as you waltzed inside, and upon entry, an old musty smell hit your nose.

Your gaze trailed across the small, humble establishment. It was just as bad inside as it was outside; walls plastered in peeling white paint, stained yellow over years of use and lit by a singular flickering bulb. Racks of shelving lined the walls, and on them rows upon rows of vinyl's and CD's. It was a music shop, or at least, some sort of pop-culture centred parlour. A small greeting met your ears, your eyes following in its direction to see an old, haggard man. Face lined with webs from years and years of work.

With a grimace, you subconsciously leant closer to Formaggio. "It looks like the owner sells drugs."

The bastard only offered you a grin in response.

"Exactly." And it was with that, he pushed himself off of you and went forth to browse the contents of this strange shop.

Formaggio was the only one really interested in this stuff; he eyed all of the CDs and vinyl's with a strange interest. You flittered behind him with a palpable boredom. Biting you cheek and fiddling with your nails, only taking mild interest when he suddenly let out a loud, unfiltered gasp and yanked a large CD from the shelving unit.

"Shit, I haven't listened to them in forever!" He gasped, and you eyed him from your peripherals narrowly.

"Who?" You mumbled, while you edged closer to him, peering over his shoulder to look at the CD he was holding.

It was glittery, blindingly so, and cartoonish. It's front was coated in old, peeling stickers; a sign that it was likely second-hand, and probably belonged to some frilly teenage girl before it found itself in this sad shop. It made you sick to your stomach. All those neon colours reminded you of a time you'd really rather not think of, and then, when your eyes finally landed on the lone person stood in the middle; poised with nylon and sheer, you let out a loud gasp.

"OH, THAT'S--- I---" You stammered, taking a few cautionary steps backward. Your eyes flickered between Formaggio and the CD, unsure of who to look at. "That's, uh, not the kind of stuff I thought you'd be into, Formaggio!"

He offered you a plain frown, a small mocking laugh leaving his lips. "Ha, ha, make fun of me all you want. It's good music." He ran a delicate finger down the side of the CD. Dust pooled where is finger met the edge, showcasing how little love the small thing received. "I used to listen to it when I was younger. They were a good singer... plus, I kinda had a crush on them."

He felt heat rise to his cheeks, he was sure if he had been any paler then there would likely be a visible flush. He rubbed at the nape of his neck meekly, hoping you hadn't taken note of his sudden shyness. Luckily for him, of course, you were rather preoccupied in a hectic world of your own. Eyes scanning the CD as if it had offended your whole bloodline - and then, his words finally settled in your head, and you were awash with the knowledge that he had a crush on you? Well... not you, your idol persona, the one you had abandoned years ago. It was still surprising!

You cleared your throat, attempting to maintain some semblance of nonchalance's. "Oh, really?"

"Don't look at me like that!" He pried open his jacket and tucked the CD into an inner-pocket; casually thieving, as if the owner of the shop wasn't sat only a few feet away. "I was young, I was horny, I liked music."

"You don't still have a crush on them, do you?" Your brow quirked at the man, tilting your gaze to look at the owner - praising when you saw he was distracted by counting what was inside his cash register. "They were like, seventeen there---"

"---No! What kind of monster do you take me for, (Y/N)? I mean, I kill people, not---" Formaggio suddenly shook his head. "That doesn't matter. You can't tell anyone on the team I like this shit, okay? They'll tear me apart..."

You understood his embarrassment on a truthful level - for you were the one who made that album. Nonetheless, you only nodded your head at him, remaining coy as you slapped a hand on his back and began guiding him toward the door of the shop.

"Sure thing, Maggie."

"You know," He mumbled, eyeing you through the corner of his gaze as the two of you exited the building and were bathed once again in the warm Italian sun. "You kind of look like them."

Heat arose to the tips of your cheeks. "Don't say that after admitting to having a crush on them."

He let out a short hum, leaning closer to have a long, proper look at you.

"It's true though," He poked a finger into your cheek. "You look just like them, but like, an evil fucked up version of them. Like, if they quit their job and joined the mafia and turned evil." He let out a short chuckle at his own words, not taking note of how nervous and clammy you had suddenly become. Secretly, you praised how hot Italy could be in the summer - at least you had something to blame for the sweat that formed at your brow.

"Well, that's stupid! Haha!" You swallowed thickly, wafting a dismissive hand in his direction. He was startled at your sudden shift in mood, lips parting to question if you were okay, but he was given no such chance to do so when you began to march forward. "Come on! Let's go complete our hit! That guy is waiting for us to kill him!"

You'd refused to talk about the subject with Formaggio for the rest of the evening. Secretly, you resented that he had stolen the CD - you should have said something; done something in the moment to stop him from taking it. Maybe if you'd made fun of him more he'd of gotten embarrassed, but instead you humoured him and now there was a picture of you dressed all glittery and pretty sat about the hideout just waiting for someone smarter and more logical to find it and immediately point out that the person was you. A

It wasn't even that big of a deal. It wasn't humiliating - you'd loved being an idol. But it was the weight that came with it you despised. Sitting in a small, dimly lit dressing room all alone - the neon lights of the city reflecting off of glass windows and hitting your face in an eerie light, a light that highlighted the eyebags that hung deep beneath your sockets. Your face had once been plastered across billboards; all atop of the charts, on the wall of every bedroom of every teenager everywhere. You were lovable, you were beautiful, you were everything and you despised it. When that scandal happened, when your entire world crumbled apart around you; after your final performance, when adoring whispers turned to hushed accusations and the cameras flashed not with love but with desperation, you vanished. Now, your only company was a group of men whose names couldn't be uttered in public without bringing forth laughter. Men whose lives were build on lies, blood and money.

Such is why, in a panicked frenzy, you found yourself pacing back and forth in the dimly lit office of your boss - Risotto Nero, who, with a dull crimson gaze, offered you a mildly concerned glare. This wasn't the first time you had done this. You were prone to your outbursts of anxiety, and so he was never truly worried for your wellbeing.

With your hands pressed to your forehead, you halted before his desk. "I don't know what to do."

"Mm." His gaze lowered to his paperwork. He began to write some things down, not really paying attention to your worried words.

"Realistically, nothing will happen if they all find out," You began pacing again. "But, like, it all changes at the same time."

"Of course."

"And then, I've gotta like, be this person I don't want to be."

"Yeah."

He wasn't listening. With a frown, you halted your pacing and walked towards his desk, slamming your hands down in front of him with urgency. Any ordinary person would jump out of their skin in surprise, but not Risotto, he was too stoic for that - the large, burly leader merely lifted his gaze toward you, lethargic in his movements as always.

"And you know me, Riz, I don't want to have to pretend anymore! I don't want to be someone I'm not." You stared at him with a deep determination, a frown etched thoroughly into your lips.

It was with this, that it finally seemed to click in his head. "Oh, this is about...?"

Risotto was the only one who knew of your past. He had to, as your leader, and well... he was the one who had changed it all. You drowned your sorrows in at a secluded bar far from town, hidden, where no one would know you - where you could be yourself. But you were never safe. You'd gotten into an altercation, a fight that you had really wished to avoid and when your harasser collapsed mid-fight, overwhelmed with blood and blades, you caught sight of the dark, calculating man. He seemed soulless. He had told you he hated conflict when it was not needed, and you had told him you were indebted to him - such is how you ended up following his shadow into the life you now lead.

But you liked it. In a strange way, it felt safter than the empty life you had lived before. They were your new family - strange, dangerous and at times infuriating - but they had protected you, and you had protected them. They'd kept you alive when everyone else had turned their backs on you. And at first you were terrified, of course you were, but as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, you'd learnt the nuances of their lives. They weren't monsters, or demons, or any kind of sick villain; they were scared people trying to survive in a world that had no mercy. You were the same, and that is why you were so scared to reveal yourself - what if things changed? What if they saw you differently? What if they started treating you differently?

You were starting to panic, breathing heavy and ragged, unaware that Risotto had risen from his seat and instead moved to stand before you; not until you were being enveloped by his warm embrace. You shook against his chest, grasping at his odd harness for some sort of stability - this action, a warm embrace, wasn't something Risotto enjoyed giving, but for you, he did. He had always been soft on you, you had never really known why.

"Tell me what happened today." He uttered, and though his voice was soft, from where your head was planted against his chest you could feel his throat rumbling with each word. A short, overwhelmed sigh passed your lips, and you clung closer to your stoic leader.

"It's nothing serious." Was your revelation. You closed your eyes and nestled yourself further into his body - relishing in the warmth he seemed to radiate. "I'm freaking out over nothing..."

He stood as still as a rock, worried that any straying movement would scare you off. Like a fickle bird, one wayward gust away from flying to another room. He gently pat your back, albeit a bit awkwardly. He had never had to comfort anyone before. "But you're freaking out, which means that something is bothering you."

Was his reasoning. You despised how, despite his lack of social grounding, he still somehow managed to be so good at getting those around him to confide and spill their problems with him.

"Well..." You started, your gaze straying to the side. "Formaggio picked up one of my old CDs today."

"Ah, and you are worried he will realise it's you?" A look of revelation befell his once emotionless expression. Concern filled his crimson glare, that had now splayed wide open to look at you with the upmost concern. You tried to hide your face from him - beginning to grow embarrassed that you had been so worried over something as minimal as your past.

"He's a little dull." You huffed, promptly pushing yourself off of Risotto. Your cheeks were warm, and you kept your gaze to the floor in an attempt to evade how flustered you had become. "He didn't realise it at first, but I'm worried that someone else will realise. Like, Ghiaccio or someone smart."

Looking down at you, Risotto cocked a brow. It seemed you were coming to reason now, and so he crossed his arms over his chest and continued with a little more profession than he had been only moments prior. "What is the worst thing that could happen if they realise?"

He teetered around you - attempting, though failing, to look at your face and get a proper read of your features. You evaded his eyes as if he were some sort of plague.

"I don't know..." You then whined, placing your hands on your head with worry. "They make fun of me or something."

"Don't they do that anyways?" He postulated, and you frowned.

Finally, you lifted your gaze to look Risotto in the eye. An expression of great horror had settled across your usually jovial features. "Well... it'll be worse. They might try and make me sing."

At that, he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he opted to cross his arms over his chest and turn away from you, returning to his desk promptly. "They won't care, (Y/N), we all have our pasts. Even if yours is a little... unorthodox."

He flinched when a loud, displeased groan left your throat. "That's the issue! What am I supposed to do when they all find out that instead of being a hardcore mafioso, I'm actually a washed up, prissy little pop-star with nothing else---"

"---Really!?"

When a cocky voice cut through the air, both you and Risotto had been startled. To your left, stood smugly inside a large, full-length mirror that had been leant against the wall of Risotto's office, was the one teammate that would spread this information in less than a minute.

"Illuso," You growled, a sound of warning which he refused to listen to. Laughing, he took a few cautionary steps backward, and grinned wildly when you started charging toward the mirror. "Don't you dare---! Fuck! ILLUSO! OUCH---!"

You tried to dive into the mirror world after him, but instead faceplanted the glass surface and fell to the ground with a loud thud. You could hear his devious cackles from within the mirror realm, rage bubbled within your chest - God, you hated Illuso sometimes; he was the worst possible person to find out about this. With a glare fuelled by fury, you scrambled back up to your feet and darted toward the door to the office, you were about to leave and chase after Illuso, but not before shooting Risotto a glare.

"Why the Hell is there a mirror in your office!?"

Startled, the stoic man glanced back and forth between you and the object of offense. "I... don't... know...?"

As you'd expected, Illuso had likely put these around the hideout without anyone realising as a means to stalk. More rage simmered within you at the thought, and with nothing else to say to Risotto you dove out of his office and into the main area of the hideout. You could practically see Illuso as you ran; in every picture frame and dirtied doorhandle, he raced along side you to see who could get to the others first and when you both made it to the main living-area, you hardly gave him a chance to emerge from the mirror - practically tearing him from it as you dove atop of him.

The living room had been quiet, save for the gentle hum of the television and rustling of papers, courtesy of Prosciutto and Pesci - one who sat with a cup of tea and some paperwork, while the other watched something meaningless on the TV. Both hardly even lifted their gazes to look at you while you wrestled Illuso to the ground, having since grown used to the commotion in the hideout.

"Ow-! Watch the hair!" Illuso plead, struggling while you straddled his waist. He lay prone - on his stomach, while you pinned him from behind and smushed his face into the dirty, silverfish infested carpet.

"Watch your mouth," You practically seethed, pushing his head further into the carpet. Maybe if you pushed hard enough you'd smother him. He wriggled beneath you, trying hard to struggle against your tight hold. "Stop moving!"

With ease, he lifted himself. You were thrown off of his back and onto the ground - in a matter of moments the situation flipped and he was on top of you. He clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your loud cries of protest with a wicked smile. "I think you should stop moving," He cackled, lifting his gaze to look across the room.

Prosciutto and Pesci, for the most part, were still minding their own business - the younger and greener of the two offered you both a concerned side-eye, but other than that kept to himself. He knew Risotto was in his office, and in the other room, only just visible through a doorway to the living area, he could see the remaining three members of the team idling about. Deviously, Illuso took a large inhale, spouting out a loud:

"Hey! Everyone! You'll never guess what I just learnt--! Mpph!!!"

But he never got the chance to spread your darkest secrets, for in a last act of desperation you called out your stand to throw him off of you. He landed at the edge of a coffee table only a few feet away, sputtering from the sudden force in which his body had been thrown and you were to quick to claim your place atop of him - this time, with a pillow you had snatched from the couch. You tackled him to the floor again, this time holding the pillow over his face as a means to get him to shut his loud mouth. His cries for help were muffled; the sound was true bliss for your ears.

"Hey, Fratello," Pesci tore his eyes away from the TV, eyeing the two of you on the floor with a growing worry. He half thought you were trying to kill Illuso. "Should we do something about that...?"

His question had been directed at his blond brother, who in response, merely took a long, hard sip of his tea. He didn't even bother lifting his gaze from the paperwork before him, uncaring for the troubles and toils of his teammates - much like Risotto, in a colder, harsher way. "No." Was his response, and when Pesci's gaze turned quizzical, he huffed out a reasoning: "Let them get it out of their system."

- Eventually, after nearly suffocating Illuso to death, Prosciutto did stop you. In your petty fight for dominance, you ended up knocking over a drink and spilling a sticky juice all over the carpet - that really ticked him off, and a quick kick to your side had you reeling on the floor in pain and he was authorative in telling you both off for messy, inappropriate behaviour.

- And of course, the scolding brought forth interest from the rest of the team. Ghiaccio, Melone and Formaggio who had been chatting amongst themselves in the other room had since entered.

- With you on the floor, nothing stopped Illuso from spilling the secret you had kept to yourself for so many years. It was nauseating, you felt like you were going to throw up - but, no one reacted like you had expected them to.

- Ghiaccio thought Illuso's mission to humiliate you was stupid, and he had no time for idiotic games that the rest of you liked to play.

- Melone admitted that he had known for years, after conducting several DNA tests on you - without your knowledge, might I add - and had simply kept to himself on the matter.

- Formaggio, the one most likely to make fun of you for such a thing, had no right to mock you since he had admitted only hours prior of his affection for your idol persona.

- Pesci, too, liked listening to that music, but much like Formaggio had kept to himself out of fear of mockery. He thought it was cool that you had such an interesting past.

- And much like Ghiaccio, Prosciutto had no reason to mock or bully you for something so trivial.

- BUT YEAH. they were all chill, and you were freaking out for no reason!

- Well, maybe there was SOME reason behind freaking out, because things did kinda change after that.

- Formaggio, though already flirty, became even more obvious with his advancements. He didn't try to hide the fact that he had a crush on you - he had already told you, technically, so why not just act on it? You never seemed to complain about his insistent affection.

- Sometimes, he'd ask you to sing for him, like a live performance! You always said no. Maybe you did give him one once or twice when you were really drunk, but you don't remember it so it doesn't count. You close your eyes and cover your ears whenever Illuso tries to show you the video footage.

- Oh, and Illuso, was still the worst ever. Like Formaggio, he liked to tease you by asking you to perform for them, except his requests came from a place of malice rather than appreciation.

- Though his bullying was just thinly veiled affection.

- The rest of the team however, treated you normally. Perhaps with a bit of nerves, now that they knew you were a missing persons case - but more confidence was developed between you and them. They were a team built on trust, and once you overcame your worries and shared your story with them, you grew closer with them.

i think i could write more on this when i have time... so there may be a part 2...

---

I WASNT SURE HOW TO FINISH THIS IM REALLY SORRY... i hope its nice! if not i can rewrite it!!!

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unnoticed-poison · 10 months ago

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𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔! 𝙷𝚊𝚣𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝙷𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚅𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚇 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 °【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】°

【 𝕿𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟏 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟐 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟑 】

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 1

【 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝟒 】 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙 2

So I forgot I explained the situation in my other yandere fic but not this one so I'll do it now so everyone will know.

The reason some girls are genderbend is because I can't exactly write yaoi or yuri cause of my religion, the most I could do for them is turn them into males so they can be romantic yanderes, hope you guys understand.

Also because I like to write genderbend as well.

The treatment Valentino gives Angel Dust will be mentioned of course, and not all the girls will be genderbend, it depends on how the story will go.

So anyways enjoy the chapter ❣️

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Things were not going so well for Charles at the meeting.

"And then I went ahead and invited her to my place-"

This 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳 won't stop babbling about useless stuff and avoiding the topic at hand.

"- I failed to seduce her since she's so oblivious, but I can always try again next time," Adam said nonchalantly, taking a bite out of the rib as he glanced at him. "So what did you do this weekend?"

"Sir." The exterminator standing behind Adam looked less than thrilled while listening to his boss's chattering as well. " There's only a few minutes left for the meeting."

"Really? Oh well, you can start talking then."

Fucking finally.

Charles stood up after clearing his throat, holding up his papers as he started explaining the situation at hand.

"So I'm sure you're well aware of the overpopulation issue we're currently facing, I would like to suggest-"

Adam interrupted him. "OH that's not a problem at all! we're taking care of that just fine, Lute!" He called out as Lute stepped closer to him. "How many demons did you kill this year?"

The exterminator's voice was blunt as he answered. "Got a good 275 sir."

"275!? Badass! Awesome job danger dick." They fist-bumped as he said this, making the demon frown.

They're proud of that..?

"You know those are my people, right..?"

Adam laughed. "Of course! And that's what makes it even better!"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Charles continued. "As I was saying, all our problems will be solved if we rehab those sinners and cleanse all their souls so they can join you guys in heaven and the extermination won't be needed anymore!"

He explained as fast as he could while holding up each paper. " The redeeming process will take place in my hote-"

"That's enough."

Huh?

"But I haven't finished yet-"

"I've heard more than enough, if what you're suggesting is letting those miserable fuckers climb up the ladder then you can forget about it, that's the dumbest idea I've ever heard in my long, loooong life."

"Everyone makes mistakes! They can redeem themselves-"

"They had the chance to do that when they were 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, now that they've earned damnation, it's no one's fault but their own," Lute spoke in a scornful tone, his eyes narrowed in disgust. "And for your information, angels 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 make mistakes."

Charles narrowed his eyes at him in return. " You really think so."

The man smirked. "I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 so."

Adam, visibly annoyed, slammed his hands on the table, making them both stop. "Alright that's enough!"

He rose to his feet and made his way over to Charles until they were standing face to face. " Look here pal, hell is forever and there's nothing, and I mean absolutely 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 you can do about it, so I suggest you give up now, and I'll pretend I never heard any of that bullshit."

A sneer of contempt crept over his face as he towered over the boy, he looked too much like his father, just looking at him made him 𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬.

"You should consider yourself lucky that damned snake gave you a pardon from the extermination or else you and your hellborn kind would've been dead a long time ago."

Charles could feel his blood boil, his face flushed in rage as he scowled at him.

This damned bastard-

Before he had a chance to respond, the angel suddenly stepped back.

"And now that I've got your and the audience's attention, I would like to announce that we've made a determination!" With a triumphant smirk, Adam turned his head to stare directly at where the camera was.

...?

Confused, Charles turned his head to where Adam was looking.

....

Shit!

There was a camera?!!

How come he didn't notice it!

"-To move up the next extermination."

What?!

"Wait a second that's not-!"

"I can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts, I know the day just finished, but we'll be back in six months!" Taking hold of both the drone and Charles's hand, he sent a menacing smile to the camera. " Enjoy those next few months dear sinners! Cause they might be your last."

Once he said that, he roughly threw them out of the room and returned to his seat while bursting into a fit of laughter.

"Wait!" The demon exclaimed, papers scattered around him as he tried to enter the room again. "Hold on a moment!"

"Now where is my favorite angel-" was the last thing he heard Adam say before the door slammed shut in his face.

......

Frustrated beyond words, his face scrunched up in anger as he slammed his fist into the door.

"Fuck!"

This was not how this was supposed to go!

He made things WORSE.

He then heard a voice come from the small drone.

"Looks like Lucifer's brat fucked things up for us all! What a shocker, I'm sure your father will be 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥."

....

He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his head, feeling defeated.

"Excuse me, are those yours?"

Huh?

Charles lifted his head and looked over his shoulder.

Despite the woman being out of uniform and wearing a simple dress, he was certain that she was one of the angels with the wings and halo.

Moreover, the giant hammer in her hand, still dripping with blood, served as a stark reminder of her rank.

Her other hand was holding the papers he drew at the hotel, with a basket hanging from her wrist.

Was that an egg?

Despite being a little disturbed by the sight, he couldn't help but be drawn by her looks.

She's pretty...

"Sir?"

Charles snapped out of it, a flush spread across his cheeks when he realized he'd been staring too long.

With a sheepish nod, he stood up and brushed off his clothes as he went over to you.

"Oh yeah they're mine!"

With a nod, you extended the papers. "Here you go then." You said, handing him the papers, some were stained with blood.

He looked at the stained papers for a moment before taking them off your hand. "Am.. thanks."

"No problem, have a nice day."

With that being said, you walked past him and towards the room he just got kicked out of.

His eyes followed your back for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh and turning around to leave when he suddenly paused in his tracks.

Wait..

𝘚𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦

𝘐 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭?

Perhaps you're the one that arrogant prick was talking about?

𝘍𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦..𝘴𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦...

Maybe it wasn't too late yet!

If he could convince you of his project then maybe...

Perhaps you could help change Adam's mind as well!

Or at the very least move the extermination back to once a year like usual.

"Miss! Please wait!"

Turning back, he quickly headed over to you.

Upon hearing that, you paused and turned back to him with a raised brow. "Do you need anything?"

"I'd like to speak with you about something urgent."

You silently glanced back at the door and then back at the blonde, you had arrived just in time to witness him get thrown out by your boss.

So you had a pretty good guess on why he wanted to discuss with you.

"I'm sorry but my boss's words are final, I have no say in them, so whatever you spoke with him about I can't do anything."

That was mostly a lie, but the blonde didn't need to know that.

"Please! I beg you, it will only take a minute."

Gazing at the sheer desperation on the man's face, you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

..........

.....

Damnit.

You finally let out a sigh. "Go ahead, I can't promise anything though."

Charles's face lit up with happiness as he gave you a beaming smile.

"Thank you!"

Despite your visible disinterest, the man excitedly explained his entire project to you in detail.

There might be hope to clean up the mess he made after all.

˖๑‧˚꒷꒦₊꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ˖๑‧˚꒷꒦︶︶₊꒷꒦₊꒷꒦˚‧๑˖

Hope you guys liked the chapter!

I really need to focus back on my Yandere Animation Studios fic, that thing only has the trailer chap posted 😭

Anyways until next time ❣️

#yandere hazbin hotel x reader #yandere hazbin hotel

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groceryreceiptss · 1 year ago

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | j.p.

james potter x reader | word count : 7.2k | requested

↳ part one / part two ───✧₊∘

summary : james always said that you were his best friend and you always said that he was yours. but you didn't realize that the meaning of the words had changed for you until it was a week before the yule ball and you two were walking through the snow covered streets of hogsmeade (reader's pov)

contains : my writing (warning lmao), pretty cheesy. (childhood) best friends to lovers!! flufff, herbal tea slander (sorry if you like it), lots of out-of-place references (like pjo and spiderman, i'm SORRY, i can't help it). i’m never sure on what to put in here to be honest so just let me know!

a/n : soo i might have gone a biiiiit overboard and make it a two part! this one takes place in hogsmeade (mostly), told from reader's point of view. i'm planning for the second one to be from james' point of view and for it to take place during the yule ball (no promises on when i’m going to finish it though TT )

credits : lovelyy dividers by @cafekitsune, pins i used (1) (2) (3)

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The castle seemed to have its own separate life in December. Snow, trees, warm hearth, lights, candles, sweaters, hot drinks, and not to mention the food. The students always seemed to be reinvigorated by the time this month came too. Excited whispers floated the hallways in strings of exclamations.

This year, they were way louder than usual though. And the reason for it was visible in every room. The vibrant yet elegant posters, the talks of elaborate plans, scenes of people asking and being asked (and the cheers that would follow it), conversations of suits and dresses, and absolutely nonchalant talks of dates and hopes.The Yule Ball.

This extravagance of the event only happened once in every four years, so of course, everyone was excited. Nothing could be more thrilling than a chance to live out your silly teenage dreams and be like one in the movies.

You loved it too. The smiles, the laughter, the gossip, the drama. It was fun, though you weren't expecting much for yourself. You weren't being a downer or whatever (which was what James would definitely tell you), it was just that, if truth be told, you had learned not to hope too much in anything. Retrospective had taught you a long time ago that it would only tarnish the joy out of a perfectly good moment.

Today was a festive Saturday morning. Talks of the ball were echoing off the walls in a more persistent way than ever. Understandable for they only had a week left before the festivities, anxiety and anticipation were sure rising.

You were just about to enter The Great Hall, the comforting smell of good breakfast already reached your nose, before someone suddenly threw their arms around you from the back, throwing you off balance a bit, his warmth enveloping you. James Potter.

Funny how someone's laugh could be so familiar to one's ears.

"How are you in this fine lovely morning?" The bespectacled boy greeted you as you turned around, eyes meeting his, your lips turned upward mirroring his smile. He really did have the most annoying charming smile. It was infectious.

"Freezing to death," you responded, slinging his arm around your shoulders as both of you walked the rest of the way to the hall. "Where are the others?”

"Already there," he scoffed, and continued on dramatically, "They left me to fend for myself!"

"To be fair, you are a heavy sleeper."

"You're one to talk," he grinned at you, "Why do you think both of us are the last ones to arrive?"

And he hit it right. You straightened up, ready to defend yourself. "Well, look–"

But he was way ahead of you. "Good book?" he smiled knowingly. And right again.

"So good," You nodded your head vigorously. "You should read it sometimes. I'll add that to your list." You waved your hand away casually, as if to say ‘done and done.’

"I look forward to reading it."

You smiled up at him, agreed. "Good, because you must." And before you could stop it, you went on telling him all about your reading from last night.

He didn't seem to mind, he never did. In fact, he always seemed to be interested in everything you had to say, so you continued. It had become a routine. You told him about a book he had never heard of, he told him about a match you had never watched.

James Potter was your best friend. Always had and always would be. The two of you had known each other since you were five and knew nothing and everything. Both of your parents had been best friends and it just progressed naturally. They would often spend the holidays and breaks together and so his house was yours as much as yours was his.

And when both of you got the Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven and were sorted into Gryffindor, it was inevitable that you grew even closer. Everything about him had become so familiar now. It was like you knew him at the back of your hand.

His favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite song. How his eyes brightened a bit when he laughed. The dimples that came with his smile. How he would bite his lip a bit when McGonagall caught him and his friends in their mischievous schemes, or when he was thinking of a lie to tell her.

How he liked to put his arm around your shoulder, or tucked it in the inside of your arm every time he saw you. His glasses that were always lopsided, and his hair that was always tousled. Just like it was right now.

Both of you sat down in front of Remus and Sirius, who were laughing about something. Crisp toast, bacon, and eggs on the plates completely abandoned. You eyed them closely and wondered how two people could be so oblivious to one another when they were sitting that close to each other. And look at Remus! He was almost red.

If only you did not have a sense of decency and could have it in you to interfere with these two, then maybe, just maybe, they'd finally admit their feelings and go to the Yule Ball together.

"Where's Wormtail?" James asked them, getting himself a plate of eggs and sausages. You decided to grab some toasts, marmalade, and some eggs.

"Don't know," Sirius shrugged. "Probably hatching a plan to ask Jane out."

"Doesn't she already have a date?" You asked him, confusion on your face.

"Not sure," Remus chimed in, "it's hard to keep track these days." True that.

The four of you talked some more. You and James tried multiple times trying to get these two to talk about their dates to the ball—or more like the lack of it—and did a bait and switch. And you were good at it, but boy were they better.

After their plates had emptied, Remus said that he was going to make a quick run at the library and Sirius, very subtly and casually, offered that he could come too because he was "bored." You and James could barely contain your smiles until they disappeared out of view.

He grabbed a bit of your toast, put some of his fruits on your plate in exchange for it, and asked, "So... what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who are you going with to the dance?"

"Oh," you pondered a bit, biting one of the strawberries. "I don't know. I'm thinking of going by myself, maybe? I think it'd be fun."

"No one has asked you yet?" He asked, surprised.

You let out a laugh at his expression. "Don't pretend to be shocked now, James. I don't exactly have a line of people waiting to ask me out."

"People here have bad tastes then.” He concluded.

You shrugged, “I don’t mind. It’d be a pity spending the night with some stranger I don’t know, or even like, anyway. What about you and Lily?”

James' die-hard affection for the red-head girl was never a secret. The entire school knew it. It had been going on since first year and you doubted it would ever stop.

The way he always talked about her — with so much fondness and care. It was, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she talked. But you noticed the way he looked at her too. It was like he fell in love every time he laid his eyes on her.

You figured that he was going to at least work up the courage to ask her out to the ball, even if it would only end up in vain, but no news from him so far. It was weird, like a sudden change of the weather. You had had to endure listening to him for what seemed like ages after Lily talked to him for the first time. And then another and another and another about his failed attempts at asking her out. What's with the quiet and silence now?

Was the fact that she turned him down again for the dance hurt him that bad? Oh, now you felt guilty for asking.

What was so strange, though, was that there wasn't sadness on his face now. No hidden pain or aches. Instead, he said, ever so casually, your toast in his hand "I haven't asked her yet."

You were taken aback, shocked, eyebrows scrunched up. "What?"

James' fruitless efforts with Lily was also very much widely known, but he was never ashamed of it. You couldn't remember the last time he passed an opportunity to confess his— as he said it —undying love for her.

"What, what do you mean you haven't asked her out?" You sputtered out.

He chuckled nervously at your response, raising his hands in trying to calm you down. "Is it really that surprising?"

"Considering the fact that you, James Potter, have been after her for like forever and never faltered in his efforts to make her know that he is head over heels for her, then I'd say, yeah. It's pretty surprising." You responded, baffled. "What changed?"

"Nothing! I just figured that she'd turn me down anyway and didn't bother. And then I heard she already accepted someone else's offer anyways." he shrugged.

"Oh," you put his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry."

James squeezed yours in return and gave you a smile. "Nothing to be sorry about. I'm fine, honestly." he assured you. “I think it might be for the best.”

Though you didn’t believe that, he did look fine. And James was never one to hide his feelings from you— in fact it was the total opposite, he was always ever so dramatic — so you took his words. You bit your lip and asked, "You want some tea?"

"What is it this time?" He asked as he took a bite of the egg.

You grabbed one of the teacups and gave it a sniff. "Oh," you scrunched up your nose from the smell, "Herbal, I think." you put it down. "That's a no then."

He groaned, "Why couldn't they just serve normal tea?"

"Because then we won't have a ‘refined’ palate." You rolled your eyes, quoting something Madam Pince had told you in the library for what seemed like a long time ago.

"That's a silly excuse for serving only herbal tea at breakfast."

You couldn't say that you disagree.

"So,” he started. “What are you doing today? Any plans?"

"No,” you shook your head, “Nothing much." You poured yourself a glass of orange juice and passed the jug to him. "I'll probably just read. You?"

He poured one himself and grinned at you. "That depends, you want to go to Hogsmeade?"

"Uh-oh," you let out a laugh, sensing trouble. "What are you up to?"

He gasped dramatically. "What do you mean ‘what are you up to?’ I am offended.” He placed a hand on his chest for good measure. “Could it be possible that maybe I just want to spend the day at Hogsmeade with my best friend?”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

He laughed. “I’m not going to do anything, honestly. And It'll be fun, I promise!" he nudged you. "We haven't gone there in a while." Well, that was true.

"It's cold," you argued.

"I have an extra coat if you want double."

"It will be very crowded."

"Then we'll find some place no one knows."

"That's impossible."

"Anything is possible, love. Please." He pleaded, looking at you with his big doe eyes. It was so unfair of the world to give someone such gorgeous brown eyes and left the others to dust. So unfair.

You sighed, letting out at last. He would be the death of you one of these days. "Fine," — which brought a whispered "Yes!" from him— "But we're going to have to visit the quill shop."

"Consider it done."

──────────────────∘

Hogsmeade was truly beautiful in the winter. Its snow-covered roads, the orange lights visible in every shop, and the chattering crowds in their coats and scarves. Though the hits of cold wind on your face made you shiver, you were glad that you decided to go. And that you were with James. His arms around your shoulders provided you warmth just as much as his breath on your cheeks did.

As promised, both of you visited Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. James had complained at first and tried to negotiate by saying you should "save the best for last" and head to Zonko's instead to open the trip, but after both of you saw the line the place'd formed, he agreed that maybe quills were more fascinating.

"Why are there so many types of ink?" he whispered loudly at you as he examined the shelves, "Who cares if it's lavender purple or lilac purple? They're purple!"

"Lots of people do." You answered before quietly squealing to him after finding a rare gem. "Look!"

You pushed the ink bottles to his face so he'd read the label. "Rainbow ink?"

"Rainbow ink!" You nodded excitedly.

"You do not need rainbow ink, love." He shook his head but couldn't force back the affectionate smile that had appeared on his face.

"Just like you don't need those hand-biting teacups or whatever from Zonko's, and yet here we are." You hummed giddily as you grabbed one of the brand new boxes of rainbow ink from the shelf.

"It's nose-biting teacups— please don't take the fun out of it," he corrected you, "and yes I do need it! It's fun! Trashy fun, but fun!”

"Whatever you say, love." Something caught your attention and you immediately grabbed the cuff of his shirt. "Oh! Let's look here!"

With the rainbow ink tucked safely in your coat pocket, you and James walked out of the shop and visited Zonko's. He recounted all of the items he had once bought and how he had used them up, mostly with Sirius. He ended up getting something called Inflatable Tongue (for what you didn't want to know) before both of you walked out.

You turned to him with a glint in your eyes. "Honeydukes?"

He returned the mischief and grinned. "I thought you'd never ask. Time?"

You thought it over, looking at the clock nailed onto the wall of the shop through the glass.

“Five minutes,” you pointed out. “Letter?”

"B,” he decided as he rubbed his gloved hands together. "Ready?"

"One..." you looked over at him, I'm going to obliterated you.

"Two…”

“Three.. Go!" you declared before both of you ran to the brightly colored store.

You and James had many traditions. This was one of them.

The challenge was simple. You only had to find as many candies as possible that started with the decided letter in those few minutes.

It had started with a silly argument in second year, about who knew more about sweets and, later on, the knowledge of Hogsmeade's own candy shop's stocks and products. You only had been able to visit by third year of course, and the real game had only begun there, but the fire was already established way before.

Your friend, Marlene, thought it was stupid, and so did the rest of the Marauders, but there was something to be said about the similar stubbornness you two had. Sirius had said they were eerily alike.

You and James entered the shop with thrill and jumpy nerves, but were still decent enough to try not to run like little children that would definitely result in getting kicked out. Like that time both of you visited those muggles candy stores over a summer when you were younger. Lessons were learned.

You immediately went to the right part of the store, claiming the territory. Directed by your decision, James went to the left.

You knew the store well. James didn’t know it, but you had been visiting this cheerful shop a lot recently. Mostly because Mary was so down after her breakup with her toxic ex and these treats are one of the things that could cheer her up. But on the side, you had done your research. The Bs were on this side of the store.

Bolandi’s Exquisite Crystallized Pineapple. Blood-flavored lollipop. Bat’s Blood Soup? Gross. And some chunks of brownies.

Five minutes passed, and with James only got Bertie’s and bubblegums, you came out of the shop victorious.

You jumped and threw your hands in the air. “And miss y/l/n won again. Thank you, thank you.” You bowed to a nonexistent audience.

He only smiled at you. “Don’t be so proud now. Remember, miss y/l/n, I am still the running champion here. 3-2” he reminded you with a smug smile on his face.

You shrugged. “That won’t be hard to feat, you mark my words.“ you offered him a look into your paper bag. “Want to try some?”

“What’s new?”

“Bat’s blood soup.” Your nose wrinkled at the name. “He said that it’s actually chocolate, but the name is too off putting.”

“It’d be good with strawberries,” he offered. “We can grab some from dinner later.”

You nodded your head as both of you made your way through the village. “I think Mary would like it too anyways.”

“Oh, right.” James said. He and Mary weren’t close but they were friendly, especially from being past neighbors and all. “How is she these days?”

“Better every day I'm sure. It’s for the best, Matt’s an asshole.”

“We can only hope that that itching powder will find its way real soon.” he grinned at their latest form of tricks. “Or maybe during the Yule Ball actually. That would be so much better.”

You snorted. “Usually I would say that’s cruel, but he deserves it. We thank you for your service.” You continued solemnly.

He waved his hand as if tipping off his hat. “And you are so very welcome.”

Both of you walked through the well-lit village. Talking about everything and nothing, laughing at that student making a fool of himself in one of the shops, and slipped some bites of the crystallized pineapples.He asked you about how far into the book you were now, and you asked him about his Quidditch team and whether the newest member– someone from year two, you believed–was still afraid of heights.

James had his left arm around you and your gloved hands were holding his–the one near your neck–fighting for some sense of warmth. You and James hadn’t done this in a while and you’d forgotten how much you missed it. You looked up at him as he was talking about the second-year boy and saw the flecks of snow scattered on his face, his askew glasses, and his jet black hair. It made him look a tad bit adorable, you thought. His brown eyes that had that bit of green in them were alight with something so charmingly infectious that you couldn’t help but smile.

You looked at him as he talked about the latest match, his right hand going everywhere as he was talking at the speed of 893 miles per hour. You loved seeing him talk excitedly about something. There was just something so beautiful in hearing the people you cared about talk about things that they cared about so passionately and ardently, no matter how trivial they may be. It was like you were trusted enough to see this crazy side of them. It’s nice.

A group of third-years passed by and you heard them complaining about not being able to go to the ball yet. Something about dances, dresses and suits, and dying alone.

"Oh," you fought a smile to keep it from surfacing as you remembered a particular last week incident. “How are your dance moves coming along?"

He groaned. “Not this again. You're trying not to laugh."

"I'm not!" but a chortle escaped you either way. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I know you're trying your best."

"I am!" he whined. "It's just really hard and Padfoot isn't exactly the best dance partner for practicing," he grumbled.

"Steps-on-you-shoes kind of bad or doesn't-catch-you-after-the-spin-that-you-end-up-falling kind of bad?" You said with a smile and with raised eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes as he revealed a sheepish smile. As if he could forget. "I said I'm sorry."

“I know. but it was right there. I couldn't not do it.”

A week ago, in the empty common room at night, James had asked you to teach him the basic dance steps most people used for the ball. Despite his mother's graces for it, you found that her son was very much an amateur.

He kept stepping on your foot and collided with you as he took the wrong directions. You were laughing and kept saying that it was fine, but he still apologized every other second of it.

The ending to the attempts was a disaster. A playful one for you, but he seemed very embarrassed of it. You had suggested the spin—and honestly it was your fault to have recommended it in the first place when it had only been an hour and a half—and as he tried to pull you back, he might have tugged your hand a bit too hard and you ended up crashing into one another. Your figure on top of his, his hands on your waist.

His cheeks had turned slightly red, and yours had grown hot as the fall stopped and you found your face so close to his. Your eyes inevitably found his brown ones and you felt his rapid breaths on your skin. His eyes have a little bit of green in them, like stars, your mind wandered before catching yourself. You let out a slight awkward cough and tried to laugh it off as you made yourself stand up.

He gave you a string of apologies afterward, and although you had assured him that it was all in good fun, he never asked you to teach him again. You kind of wished he would, for reasons you couldn't quite explain, but you didn't want to push him when he had turned to Sirius to "let the failures just befall on him", as he'd said it.

"But, either way, have you improved under the capable hands of Sirius Black, Mr. Potter?" you asked him now, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, he's definitely not as capable as you." He gave you an admiring smile, and you almost looked away from it. Taking compliments was never one of your talents. Especially if you felt undeserved of it.

"Well, it might come to you as a surprise, but what we learned was the easy part. I'm an intermediate myself." Deflected and dodged.

He laughed. "Either way, you're still graceful at it. You know, the incident did happen again. With Sirius."

You snorted. "What?"

"Yeah. Luckily, it's still in the privacy of our dorm. so it's good."

"I'd give money to see that."

"Would never let that happen in a million years."

“With the way things are going, I might. The dance is a public affair.”

“I’d have to get better by next week then.” He said it solemnly like it was a promise, but he probably was kidding. That small child-like smile on his face said it all.

You had walked to the empty side of the village. You didn't think there was one, but the snow covered streets around you were scarce of people. Only a few passersby before they too disappeared into the warm shelter of a wooden shop. Just the way you preferred it.

A sudden thought crossed your mind and before you could even give it a second thought, your mouth decided to give it a voice. "You want to try again?"

He looked around, his snow flecked eyebrows raising, and his smile tinted with a hint of amusement. "Here?"

Well now you wished you hadn't. But, playing along was always better than an embarrassed "never mind, that was stupid" right?

"Well, yes!" you told him as if you definitely didn't have any second thoughts at all. "Almost no one’s here. Besides," You continued with a light feather edge on your words. "I heard it's freeing to dance in the cold December wind."

He shot you with one of his cheeky smiles. "Is that so?" before putting on his thinking face, a guess on the tip of his tongue. "Romance?" He ventured.

"Partly. It's a coming-of-age drama and such." You corrected him. "It's also on our winter list for this year you'll see."

"Can't wait." and he meant it. But only because, "I hope you'll also like that match tape I got of a muggles' football match. They're entertaining too to say the least."

After years of being best friends together, he had learned that you liked to talk in quotes from the books you'd read and the movies you'd watched. And after years of spending winter and summer breaks together watching and listening to the muggles' form of entertainment media, it was like you shared the same frequency. He could guess which type of movies or shows or songs you had probably heard the saying from, and you could guess which sport match did he reference that joke from.

It was a whole different game. Total number of players : two.

He stopped in his tracks, letting his arm fall from his shoulder, making your neck shudder a bit at the loss of warmth.

"So," he gave you a gentleman's bow—and a playful smile along with it—and offered his gloved hand. "May I have this dance?"

You almost let out a surprised laugh at the gesture. You took a ladylike bow, pinching the fabric of your invisible royal dress. "That depends," you said in an exaggerated accent, "are you able to do so without giving me a head injury?"

He returned the overplayed accent. "I shall make no promises. But, if i were to slip and let you fall, best believe I'd try my best to catch you."

On the usual days, you'd bring up Gwen Stacy falling into her demise in one of the remakes of the Spider-Man movies. How Peter wasn't able to catch her and she ended up dead. James would've gotten the reference—you had cried to him for hours after that first watch last summer—but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

And yet instead, you were here, trying not to let the invisible red take too much space on your already freezing cheeks. You smiled, and it was a smile you couldn't contain. Not like others. It was one that just kept going wider and wider the more you looked at the beam plastered on his face until it wasn't physically possible anymore.

James, your head echoed his name as you mentally shook your head. A soft laugh escaped your lips. What have you done?

“We’re going to look stupid.” You admitted.

“Hey, it was your idea." He reminded you, his hand still stood in the air.

"It was a moment of foolery." But you took it.

The wind had started to pick up its course again and caused the snow to fall rapidly. Under the glow of the streetlights, you two danced and laughed. It started off as an attempt to the formal dance two would usually use at a ball, but after one or two or seven missteps, you agreed that maybe you should start over.

There was no music to accompany you but there was a faint piano playing from one of the shops. It whispered gently with the wind that swept you and James' rowdy steps.

His laughters were echoing in your ears, into your mind. His breath was on your cheeks, and his gloved hand on your woolen one was a warming touch. His glasses were a bit askew, and a part of his hair that came out of his beanie was flecked with snow.

There was no rhyme nor reason to your steps or the placement change of your hands. It was so stupid and silly. One minute it was an amateur attempt at classic dances, and another you were fooling around as if you were at a house party.

It was nice. Like you two were five again and you knew nothing and everything. Childhood innocence, where have you gone?

There were a lot of things you were late to realize about your friendship with James. You guessed you didn’t really think much about a friendship that had started since you could remember. It had always just been there, all your life. So long that you couldn’t imagine a life without it. A steadfast thing, the most you ever had one with someone that used to be a stranger to you.

You couldn’t even imagine that now. James Potter, a stranger. It felt so wrong. You had known too much about him, he had known too much about you. He was memorized in your mind.

From his hazel brown eyes that felt like the warm hearth of your home every time you looked at them, to the quirk of his lips and the gentleness of his smile.

To his voice that had once become a soothing presence after you had had paranoid nightmares about one of the people you knew dying. To the sound of his laughter that accompany the hot days in June and the freezing weather of winter, like how it did right now.

How he would run his hands through his hair when he was frustrated or didn’t know what to do. Or how his handwriting looked and how the Gs and Ys are always so sloppy and how the Ss barely look like one.

And so many things. So many other things you couldn’t imagine living without. Maybe this was just you being too present in a moment that you couldn’t think of it being ripped away and making you not be there anymore, but you weren’t sure.

You looked at him, and it was like the rest of the world fell away. His eyes had stars in them and his cheeks were red from the cold.

Your thoughts raced in a hundred miles per hour as your breaths and the pulse in your veins tried to catch up. All of them were beating to get out of your skin and onto the snow. They all had the same jitters, the same sound, and the same beat. And they all were talking in one unison, a whisper of the name of the person in front of you.

James Potter. James Potter. James. Oh. Oh.

It was a moment too late before you realized you had not been watching your steps and tripped yourself over a good mound of snow.

“Woah, woah” You started as you fell forward onto the snow, with your hands still on James’.

You heard the soft thump of the snow hitting James’ head, as your body fell on top of his. The rough old material of his father's coat met with your similar one. Your eyes were inches from his and so were your lips. You didn’t know what to think, your mind just went blank at the sudden proximity.

You should— wait, what should you do? You should— right, oh my god, apologize!

Fighting your inner thoughts and denying its claims, you immediately got up. Maybe too quickly for nonchalance but your racing brain didn’t have time to think it through. Not when it was jammed with mixed and confused signals from your heart.

“James! I’m so so sorry!” you offered him your hand and pulled him to stand, brushing off the snow from his coat. “Sorry, I wasn’t in my mind for that one second. Sorry.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, or even look at him—which almost never was a problem before, at least not because of this kind of… thing— so you resumed correcting his lopsided beanie.

He just laughed though. All casual as if you didn’t just find a big revelation. “It’s okay, it’s fine.” He tried to assure you. But you still wouldn’t stop, so he took hold of your hands to stop them from fixing his woolen headwear.

Great, now you were forced to look at him. You just hoped the cold weather was still a believable reason to cover up for whatever your face may look like now. Flushed, probably. But hopefully not too embarrassed.

You looked at his face, a trace of mirth still on his lips that were so close to you a minute ago. His face was kinda red too, but it was probably because of the season.

“It’s okay,” he assured you again. “You know,” an end to his smile turned a bit more upward and you knew that a tease was coming. “You reminded me of an old me,” he continued breezily, “i made this same mistake too back then. When i was more foolish.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort. James, james. Alright, just let things—and especially you—calm down a little, you told yourself. Let everything go back to normal.

“You mean a week ago, old man?” You lightly punched his arm, before dusting off the snow from your own coat.

“Time is relative. Miles Morales said it himself.” He said as he helped you brush the snow out of your hair and coat. “Or actually it was Ernest whatnot but whatever.”

You let out a breath of laughter as you shook your head. His glasses were crooked so your hands automatically went up to fix it. Like you had done so many times. “There. It was crooked.” You heard yourself explaining.

“Thanks,” he said with that stupid silly smile of his. You hated that smile now. How can one have such a charismatic smile? It wasn’t fair.

“No problem, wise man.” You responded with your new-found nickname for him, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Seaweed brain," He called back, and that made you smile– you didn’t even realize it.

You gave him a nod of approval. "The Percy Jackson reference. Touché."

"I've learned sooo much from you." He said solemnly.

"I know." You smiled up at him. And he looked right into your eyes, that blinding smile of his radiating onto them before suddenly averting his gaze onto the ground, where evidence of your very own accident made a mark on the snow.

James rubbed his hands together, searching for warmth. "Hey, you want to go to the Three Broomsticks? It’ll probably be emptier now.” He offered, like he always did because he was your friend. Your best friend since you could remember.

You didn’t know why you were acting weird. It was only an hour ago when everything was normal. You didn’t know how everything could just change in a matter of seconds. He was your friend, it would be okay. However this would unfold, everything would be fine. Both of you had always overcome things before. It was with James, you two would get through it. You were grateful to have him.

“Oh yeah sure.” You agreed. Wait, was that too quick of a response? Oh fuck it. He was your best friend, he had known you all his life too—which was exactly why if there was something off with you, he’d definitely be the first person to notice it, but you didn’t want to think about it too much. You shook your heads to clear all maddening thoughts. “Have you heard from Frank? Haven’t gone there in a while.”

“Oh, yeah he’s great.” He continued in a whisper, “I heard he has just received a new package of fire whiskey and Sirius and I are hoping to get a snatch of it or two. You know, for the house.”

“Right, for the house,” You rolled your eyes.

He lent out a hand to you, "Shall we?"

You took it and he gave it a soft squeeze, its grip sending vibrations through your bones.

"We shall."

───────────────∘

James was right, it wasn't as crowded as it would be if you had come earlier. Most people here had their drink and company either at noon or late afternoon and night. 3 pm wasn't exactly a busy hour. Though there were still too many people and noises for your comfort, you and James could at least find a table for two in the corner, quieter spot.

He came to the table holding two butterbeers in his hand. Both served hot to minimize the cold. He slid yours down the table and took a seat in front of you. His glasses are turned slightly uneven again.

"So, y/n" he started as you picked up your drink and sighed at the heat it gave you. Your hands were absolutely freezing.

"Hm?" You responded, more focused on the comforting smell that radiated from your cup.

"I've been thinking," He continued, and now you looked up. You were so distracted before that you didn't notice how his hands were moving as if he were drumming his thighs under the table— a habit he often did when he was nervous.

You furrowed your eyebrows for a second but decided to ignore it. "Uh-oh. Nothing good ever comes up from that." You took a careful sip of the butterbeer, its warmth traveled all through your withered body. "New horrible trick ideas?"

He rolled his eyes, a breathy laugh came out of his lips. "Why is it that you always always think the worst of me, miss y/l/n?"

Just this morning, at the Great Hall, every part of you was functioning alright. Nothing going haywire. But now, there was a skipped beat in your heart and a flip in your stomach. You tried to deflect it but the butterflies couldn't be bothered.

"I don't always always think the worst of you James. I just know you." You did, you really did. You wondered if he knew it though.

"Well, I bet you wouldn't guess what's going to come out of my mouth this time." He claimed in a challenging tone.

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Five guesses." He grinned as he pulled up five fingers to illustrate his point. "No retracting."

"Alright then," You accepted the challenge. You silently thought to yourself before voicing it all aloud. "Wasn't a trick, so maybe you are... planning to do something to the Marauders? Like, I don't know, maybe get those two idiots together to the ball?"

He pulled down a finger. "You know, maybe I should. But that wasn't it. You were kinda close though."

Close where? “Sirius and Remus?”

He made a loud incorrect buzzer sound and pulled down another finger.

“Hey, that wasn’t-”

“No retracting,” he reminded you, as he took a sip of his own beverage.

“Not fair,” you grumbled. You thought about it again before guessing, “Oh! Yule Ball shenanigans? Oh wait no-“

Another buzzer sound, and two fingers left. “My, you really don’t know me, do you y/n?” He feigned a dramatic hurt on his face and a slight pout. “You’re close though.”

About the dance? What’s about the dance? “What, you’re going to skip the ball?” You said it as a joke but he wasn’t laughing. In fact, there was just a trace of truth in that smile of his when you said it. “What, I’m right?”

“No. But that depends actually.”

“You’re talking in riddles.”

“Yeah, it’s fun, isn’t it?” His smile had a slight smirk now, like it was still held back or something. “That counted as incorrect by the way.” He made another buzzer sound and one finger left.

You sighed in frustration. The Yule Ball, but it wasn’t about any tricks. So what? Oh. The realization hit you as you felt your heart drop. It was so silly, but bad timing, James. Bad timing.

“You’re finally going to try and ask someone else to go to the ball with you?” You voiced out your thoughts, hoping there wasn’t a hint that could suggest something else; reluctance and hesitation. What, did he meet her in the hallway before you two went out or something?

He pulled his lips together and gave you a small shrug. “Close,” he concluded. “But again that depends.”

You sighed. “Alright, fine. I give up. I surrender. Just tell me.” You almost pleaded with him.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

Right. Best friend. Of course. You nodded. “Mhm.”

“So…” he stopped, like he was nervous to get the words out. That was weird.

A worse idea came to mind.Oh please don’t tell me he’s going to ask me to become his fake date for the ball to make Lily jealous, you silently desperately prayed. It would’ve been easy if it had been any other week before, but not this week. Not today. And specifically not at this hour, when you were still processing everything.

“Will you…” he continued hesitantly, his fingers playing with a loose thread on one of his gloves, a smile fighting to still be displayed on his lips. “Give me the honor and go with me to the dance?"

You said nothing, only slightly raised your eyebrows in surprise. That depends. You didn’t want to let the fireworks surround you. Skepticism came first, as it always had to.

But your silence seemed to jittered him, and he immediately jumped to explanation. “You know, because we’re best friends, and none of us have a date, and I don't know, I thought it would be fun? To go together. As friends. Casual thing. You know.” He shrugged.

You let out a smile at that, and it seemed to relax him a bit. Why was he so nervous? Of course you’d go with him. You were his best friend, and he was yours, he knew that. “Well, you are not a stranger I don't know or even like.” You joked.

He gave you a grin at that. “No, I’m not. So, you’d go? With me, I mean?”

He was cuter when he was nervous, it wasn’t fair. Why was he nervous again? You’d understand if it was you who were nervous, but why was he?

You couldn’t focus on anything besides the annoyingly loud flutter in your heart—and how hard you are trying to beat and stomp it to death right now. This doesn’t mean anything, it was just a friendly gesture. James was in love with Lily, there was no question, of course.

But you still felt the butterflies on your stomach go wild. You were fighting to contain that smile on your face, scared he’d figure out it wasn’t just any casual thing for you. You were going to the ball with your best friend and you realized there was no else you’d rather go with.

“Of course, James. You’re my best friend!” You smiled up at him, the warmth coming through your gloves from the hot drink was now small compared to the thrill that coursed through your body. “Though do you have a written contract for possible head damage compensation because I might need it.”

He shook his head, a slight relieved laughter came out of his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me because of it.” You were only teasing, but you thought he looked at you with such sincerity in his eyes that it jarred your senses a bit.

“Yeah, I do.”

───────────────────────

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter #marauders x reader #the marauders #james potter imagine #james potter fic #my writing!#hp #requested #harry potter imagine

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snapscube · 1 year ago

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So you mentioned the Amazing Spider-man movies, what are your thoughts on them? For me; I was pleasantly surprised by 1 AND 2. Like 2 is bad, real bad, but the jokes were legit, Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone are just...an amazing on screen couple and until the transformation Harry is a really fun villain....just sucks that most of the movie is exposition about peoples relationships to one another or experiments done mostly off screen.

TASM1 is perfectly serviceable as a standalone project and was definitely not the worst jumping off point, but it struggles to really properly understand Spider-Man/Peter as a personality. Peter absolutely doesn't have to be a goody two-shoes loser, all of the best adaptations of Peter imo can have some serious attitude and grit to their persona, but TASM1 kinda over-corrects on the Tobey Maguire "shy nerd" angle by making Spidey a bit too much of a dick. I remember the movie getting a lot of praise for finally making Spider-Man funny and quippy, praise I similarly gave at the time, but it really... doesn't do that nearly as much as ppl gave it credit for??? There's like ONE scene where Spider-Man is kinda jokey with someone he suspects to be Ben's killer, but that scene kinda stinks because he's not quipping as much as he's like actively cruel lmao. Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone had great chemistry though and you can tell Marc Webb knew his stuff when it came to directing that kind of romantic tension, seeing as how his previous project was 500 Days of Summer. All-in-all, it's a Fine movie but it's not a fantastic adaptation of the things I personally like about Spider-Man.

TASM2 is so much more intriguing to me to watch and to talk about. It's genuinely baffling how that movie ended up like it did, but in a way that almost anyone could have predicted. That movie STINKS. It's really really bad. But it also has kind of the opposite problem to TASM1 in that... TASM1 is a good movie that doesn't properly showcase the character of Spider-Man, whereas TASM2 is a garbage movie that features some of the best live action Spider-Man scenes/setpieces we had seen and would ever see to this day. It's sincerely tragic how many great INDIVIDUAL MOMENTS are in that movie, and how loosely connected they are by some monumentally stupid studio meddling. That movie has everything going in its favor with Andrew Garfield in the lead, the best live action Spider-Man suit to this day, the most thrilling and well rendered swinging sequences put to film, and the occasional glimpse of a true Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man that is down on the ground connecting with and watching over not just the city itself but the people within it. There's a montage in the middle of the movie that features Spider-Man on his daily patrol and he comes across as just so PRESENT and on the same level as the people he protects, meanwhile in the audio track you hear newscasters and interviews fiercely debating whether or not what he does is actually worthwhile. And that shit HITS. But unfortunately that kind of stuff is still too rare and it far overshadowed by Sony desperately trying to make a Spidey Cinematic Universe without earning it. Ultimately they had all of the pieces to make a truly definitive adaptation of Spidey that I feel like almost anyone could get behind, but they just... couldn't. Even Spider-Man PS4, commonly lauded as one of the most definitive Spidey stories of all time, uses SO MUCH of the same DNA of the Amazing Spider-Man films, but the difference is that it had the space to be only exactly what it needed to be. Nothing more, nothing less. Anyway I could talk more about this for sure but I'm looking at the length of this write-up and wincing already LOL.

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elliesfavflavor · 8 months ago

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multiple ding sounds coming from ellie's phone wakes you up from your zoned out situation. "ellie" you call. "babe? its your phone" you speak again. she doesn't seem to hear. you lean towards the buzzing device in curiousity, wondering what was so urgent. its then you furrow your brows in confusion, seeing the notification that doesn't make sense at all. you take the phone, rereading the 'this is the last time i'm gonna cover you up' text under jesse's picture. cover her? what? you unlock your girlfriends phone and click messages, worrying if she had any troubles she couldn't mention you about lately. this has happened before, so that was your guess to this absurd reach. it takes seconds for you to realize the little 'archive' box with '1' symbol on its side, just over jesse's chat. you don't put much thought clicking. she knew everything inside and out of your phone, just as you did. the bizarre thing was that you never noticed that archive section before. was it new..? oh... it was. so was the chat with the girl you certainly don't recognize. you wonder why she didn't tell you about this new friend of hers.not going any further into the phone, you push the off button and place it on the couch next to you. your pupils dilate as the brain regenerates the text under her picture, saying 'okay. miss you though :(' grabbing the phone back as if its going to run away, you enter the chat in one quick motion. not a gesture playing on your face, you scroll and scroll into your girlfriends intimate texts with this stranger. you put the phone back, staring into void and not moving an inch with absolute shock running through your veins. ellie's footsteps coming out of the shower can be heard. she shows up on the living room with outside clothes, drying her wet hair with the towel while looking for her keys. "babe, did jesse call?" she says. "no." you respond, not even taking a glance at her. you still couldn't comprehend what you saw. "uh... he called earlier, i think he needs help with the computer again" she states, tying up her damp hair to a half down facing the mirror. you don't answer. "...i'll be home in an hour or two, yeah?" she makes her way to the couch you're on, placing a kiss on your cheek. she grabs the phone next to you and head the entrance. "i love you" she says bobbing her head, seeking the slightest reaction from you, almost like she's aware of the strange ambiance. you let out a cackle in irony, still not facing her. "yeah, drive safe."

the muffled clicking sound of a key is heard across the room. you're on the same couch you've been sitting before she left. she places the keys on the table, sitting the facing fold of the L couch. if it was a regular night, you'd be babbling about how she shouldn't sit with the outside clothes. it was not a regular night. you eyes were locked on the colorful advertisement playing on the tv, as if you were watching the most thrilling show on earth. "no greeting... at all?" she says with a brow up. "sure, hi." you respond, reaching for the popcorn on your lap, not averting your gaze from the changing colors. her eyes meet the wine you two have been saving for important events. "is something wrong?" leaning her head to the side, she wishes your eyes meet hers. "no, not at all" you tune. "so, uh." the smallest cackle escapes your mouth. "so how was she?" you ask, completely facing her as you grab another popcorn. she froze for a moment, not understanding what you meant. she fixes her posture. "hm?". its clear shes utterly confused."was everything alright with her?" you ask, your voice comes off as if you were actually worried. a forced, mocking smile adorns your face. she stayed silent for a few seconds, the awareness spreading through her body with the fear following after. "what..?" she says hesitantly, her voice shaky. you munch on your popcorn slowly, leaning your head on the couch with that creepy smile remaining. you don't say a word. she knows. she has no way out of this. no lie to tell, nothing to put into words at all. "who... did you talk to jesse?" the trembling in her voice is audible. she stares at you harsh, focused. "how come i.." your eyes meet the ground. "how come i didn't realize what a fucking bitch you were all these time?" you spit as they meet her eyes just back. "hey" she stands, her brows now shaping a mourning look. not wasting a second you hop up, throwing the popcorn bag on your hand to the couch. letting the corn pieces make a mess all over the living room, you head towards the bedroom to grab the already packed suitcase. with tears running down your cheeks, you dodge her grips with swift motions and drag the case loudly across the floor. it was no use, no valid explanation for what she had been doing. "baby, hey" she's calling you from behind. "shut the fuck up" you hiss, your pace fastening towards the entrance. "where do you think you're going?" she reaches you, blocking your way with her hands on your arms. her voice is tense, her gaze is deadly. you don't answer her, your tears almost leaving prints on your face. freeing your hand and taking the key she left on the cabinet near, you push her with your other hand and speed up to the door. "don't! goddamn it." she rushes behind you, blocking your way again. "fucking move!" you shout, your vision is blurry now. she holds your arms tight again, not willing to let go. "just let me catch a fucking breath alright? i'll explain, please" she says desperately, her expression is frantic as shes remaining her grip, shaking you to come to your senses. as if you were the one who should. "no!" you try escaping but shes obviously prepared. between the tries of freeing yourself, your sobs grow audible. you sense the madness washing away with the heartbreak taking over. "no! i don't wanna!" you don't take a glance at her, swaying your arms to free them from her. your body weakening as you look down, and around, as if she's not gonna see your tears if you don't face her. "please, god, just let me explain!" she keeps saying, begging with her eyes. tears roll down on her cheeks, trying to meet the pace of yours. she held you tightly, trying to find anything, any words that could make you stay. "look im sorry! i didn't think it was gonna get this far, i am an idiot!" she sobs, her grip on your arm loosening, as she bats her eyes at you with tears, pleading for forgiveness. your rushed movements ease up, you look down. your voice comes out raspy. "i don't ever, and ever, wanna see you again. do you understand me?" she grabs you again as you reach for the

door handle. "no! wait!" she says desperately "don't go" she cries, holding you tight. "please, just please" she sobs, her body shaking from the rush of emotions she is experiencing. her eyes wet, she tries to wipe a tear without you noticing. "ellie, move." your voice is calm yet demanding. "n..no" she refuses. "please i can't lose you... i don't want.." she tries to from words. "lets work this out... please." you try to sound decent as you speak up "w...how could you do this? what were you thinking? why? how did this happen, where did you find her, since when? i don't get it ellie, why?" she froze again with your words. she felt her throat getting clogged with the urge to cry, her eyes filling with tears again. her brain wasn't working, all she could think of was excuses and explanations, but she couldn't find the correct words. her grip loosens again, her fingers loosening and falling. she's still processing what she feels, unable to respond, unable to say anything. "that's what i thought" you say. with tears rushing back again, you push her and bang the door on her face. you left the suitcase behind.

#ellie x reader #angst #ellie angst #ellie williams #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #this is my first time #writing #i’m sorry #for any grammar mistakes and stuff #feel free to leave comments and requests #this app is a mess #how do i post long fics

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redbelles · 26 days ago

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hello! I just found your blog via your recent titanic gifset with hozier lyrics and it truly is the most gorgeous thing I have seen on this site in recent times... so so amazing! could you talk about the fonts you used and a bit about the coloring/blending process? thanks so much and hope you have a wonderful week. - A

hello! this is such a sweet ask— thank you so much! i'm so thrilled to hear that you love my silly little titanic gifset 🤍

i spent,,,,,, way too much time on it as a way to try and distract myself from a) politics and b) the bomb cyclone. we live in a time.

anyway! it's probably the most labor-intensive set i've ever made: lots of frame by frame coloring, layer masks, etc., and honestly i would love to talk about it!

all of the gifs were challenging to some degree, but i'd be here for another two weeks if i went through the whole set, so i'm going to narrow the focus to just the second gif. info on how i made this guy below the cut!

i tried out probably six different scenes before i settled on the two that i used: rose wading through the corridor (top blend gif) and jack and rose embracing (base gif). i went with them because even though there's a lot of motion in each gif, they lined up more neatly than any of the other options— rose sort of wades through the embrace while staying pretty much centered in the gif

so, scenes selected! however, the color and lighting situation was... well. it was this:

dingy! dark! the hallway lights are a problem! me @ me girl what are you doing!

basic coloring/lightening on both gifs took me from here:

to here:

a good start, but i needed to drastically reduce the brightness behind rose in the base gif and manufacture some blue tones for the top gif to match general color scheme of the set. to that end, i turned each gif + coloring into a smart object, converted to frames, and sat down to do so much goddamn frame by frame coloring

for rose, i used a black color fill layer, normal, 65% opacity

for the embrace, i went with a custom blue gradient map, soft light, 100% opacity

once each gif was back in smart object form, i got to work fine tuning the color: amping up the blues, doing a little bit of lightening, making sure rose's hair really popped. after that, i did some final layer masking to make sure the blend was nice and soft

don't worry about how long the scroll bar is! everything is fine! yes there are multiple copies of both smart objects! it’s all good! <— actively lying.

the before vs. after is pretty great though:

on to text! i wanted to use a different (but complementary!) font for the large text on the gifs that didn't have orpheus/eurydice. i went with against— a little rounder, but still in the same vein as sunroll. the small text on all the gifs is tw cen mt std

to get the fancy color effect on the large text, i slapped a color overlay (bright blue, multiply, 61%) on a white text layer set to difference. to make sure the blue stayed blue, below that text layer, i duplicated the layer, cleared the layer style, and set the blend mode to color. as a final step, i went back to the top text layer with the color overlay and added a drop shadow (pale pink, normal, 29%)

the small text got the same color overlay + base color layer treatment, except the overlay (pale pink, linear burn, 100%) was different

there you have it! one (1) gif from the set that consumed two wholeass weeks of my life!

if you'd like more technical information on my personal giffing/coloring process, i have an absolutely massive tutorial that covers everything from start to finish. for blending, becca @nataliescatorccio (one of tumblr's undisputed giffing queens!) has a great tutorial that goes into more depth than i did here

all that said, blending/coloring/giffing in general really are just a matter of trial and error; practice and patience are your best friends

thank you again for the very sweet ask! i really had fun breaking down the work that went into the set ��

#anonymous #asked and answered #giffing help #+1 ego

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inconsistent-kuroshitsuji-blog · 7 months ago

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Hello. If you don't mind, I'd like to ask for headcanons about the kuro characters and their favourite video game genres/series? ^_^

Absolutely.

Kuro characters and their favourite video game genres/series

don't know why, but he looks like he'd enjoy simulator games

if Black Butler would've happened in the modern day (and someone would've taught this grandpa how to use technology) he would probably used these to learn the things he needs to know as a human

cooking simulator (or Cooking Mama), school simulator, anything that could be useful like that

definitely also enjoys slasher games

simply judging by the way he enjoyed that bloodbath on the Campania, he'd looooooove extremely violent games

idk, I don't know too many in that genre, but Dead by Daylight could be one of his faves

but nothing with guns. Those things are beneath him. He wants the real thrill of the kill

oh, please, as if he'd even know what that is

he doesn't even have time for this

imagine the hours wasted on lines of code and digital pixels

do you know that one game where it's basically like a VR job simulator with different kinds of jobs like cook or office or gas station? Instead of humans, the NPCs are robots that insult you at every given opportunity and set you up for failure. Yeah, he'd like that.

also, Powerwash Simulator

ok, stereotypical, but dress up games

especially Style Savvy (ngl, these games are way too good)

other than that, she seems like a casual enjoyer of Animal Crossing

except that she bullies all the ugly neighbours off of her island and hunts for very specific characters (so basically like me)

another obvious choice is Bayonetta

I mean, have you looked at her? Slashing her way through demons and angels while having chainsaws for arms and legs? The cunty outfits?

Let me tell you: Bayonetta and Grell? An iconic match made in heaven

I can't decide

either he's a die-hard Mario Kart player or a huge Sonic enthusiast (the older games, not the newer ones)

he probably doesn't have enough time to really play though, since he's either out working overtime or out partying

he doesn't seem like a shooter person

okay, this is coming out of me because of a huge lack of sleep (it's currently 1 am where I'm living), but why does he look like he would drunkenly play Fortnite or Roblox?

"You got games on your phone?" No, back the fuck up dude. You're an adult.

Why did I just write that? Inco, what's wrong with you?

this is very specific, but that one Coraline game for the Wii and the DS

he's definitely leaning more towards psychological horror games

American McGee's Alice and Alice: Madness Returns. You can't convince me otherwise

he's an unfairly skilled Mario Kart player, to the point that it almost seems like he's cheating (he's 100% cheating, just like when playing Uno)

on the other hand, he's a huuuuge sucker for Kirby games

doesn't matter what type or gimick, he loves it and has perfected it down to the last frame

but you'd never know unless he wanted you to know (and I know it because I am God and run on my last bar of my batterie and because he's officially and undeniably my husband, deal with it. Omfg, this is so fucking cringe, I'm gonna go shoot myself, I'll be right back.)

well, first of all, you need to explain everything to him because he couldn't even read the instructions on the screen (I'm 100% convinced that his eyesight is pure batshit and he's just cheating his way through the manga through some deus-ex-machina type of shit)

newsflash, but he loves horror games

I really see him with games like Resident Evil or Don't Starve Together

also, Undetale

you know, because of morals and choices and consequences and all that (surely not because of a skeleton with dry humour)

maybe it would help to show him a bathing simulator so this crusty man learns how to clean himself

is it too obvious and on the nose to say The Mortuary Assistant?

omg, look at him! My boy! Finally animated! I love him so much! My boy!

ahem, so anyway...

Trombone Champ

he'd play it on his loudest speakers just to annoy the hell out of everyone

also, you know those really cheap horror games you can find on Steam that are really terrible? He lives for those

idk why, but he seems like he'd enjoy Portal

and Assassin's Creed. Especially the first four mainline games

continueing with puzzle games, he really enjoys Professor Layton, no doubt

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

That's it for now. It's almost 2 am and I have to help out at a sports event I only registered for to watch some random kids suffer in the heat. But now I have to wake up early for that... Oh, how ironically bitchy life is. And to top it all of I have to work the graveyard shift today. Coffee and energy will be my best friend today.

So, yeah, that's it for now. Or maybe not, maybe I'll pull an all-nighter simply so I can't oversleep. If you're up for a part 2 just slide into my requests and I'll see what I can do.

Until then~

Your Inconsistent Kuroshitsuji Blog~

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barbatusart · 9 months ago

Note

Apologizing beforehand for the rant, sorry I just read Rotten, and I thought you should know I feel... Touched? Understood? Our experiences definitely aren't the same in like- the slightest! I'm 19 now, and didn't grow up with web 1.5 (There's still horrific shit online ofc, and a lot of the weird shock stuff has persisted- I remember being on the bus in middleschool and sitting with the highschool kids and they'd be tossing around their iPhone whatevers with the classic ol' images/videos; 1 man 1 jar, bluewaffle, I think Mr. Hands was shown to me at some point? But never anything like the Funkytown video or, you know, anything with corpses) but I've still had this weird unhealthy relationship with death/gore. I won't get into it too much but I've really hated myself for that weird numbness/desensitization I've felt, and that ending bit where you just... Put into words how that's affected you felt great. I felt seen. It's just good to know you aren't alone, y'know? Anyways I just wanted to gush about your work. I read your Cazador Backstory Comic and then Attack Dog and I'm really just trying to absorb all the art from you (and Meanboss!!! I'm gonna read Sad Sack and Sortie eventually promise) that my budget will allow! Sorry again for the rambling I have classes in like 5 hours and should really sleep but I'm coming off that spring break high and it's not going great so. Love be unto ye. Continue making cool stuff. It really rocks.

absolutely honored & humbled by this message, i left it in the inbox for a couple days cus i had to sit and think on it for a bit.

thank you tremendously for your words 🙏🏻 the internet is still a horrible wild west, but im genuinely relieved to hear that the popularity of “shock videos” that us millennials had to go through has been decreasing. i will admit ive always been worried for genZ & alpha in that regard, so im always really happy to hear that the worst of it has been rejected by younger people for the most part - outliers here & there sure but nobody should be be watching that stuff young or old imo.

and thank you so much for your interest in our other work! i will say, Please take the content warnings on SAD SACK and SORTIE very seriously - sads in particular is an angry & hyperviolent work, so we did our best to make as thorough of a list of content warnings as possible so people signing up for the thrill ride know exactly what to expect. all the same, it’s heavy & is (and i cant stress this enough) an Extremely angry piece - if the CW list seems like it’s going to be too much, by all means please save your money!!!

#q&a #sad sack #rotten #sortie

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aphrodisiac-siren · 2 years ago

Text

Dynasty of Flames

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen-Royce Reader

Summary: Being born into the most respected and equally feared houses in the realm made people look up to you as if you were a god and the devil himself, in equal measure. People say that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin; and when news of the birth of Daemon's firstborn- a girl, spread, people could only wait in anticipation to see which side of the coin faced up during her birth.

Y/N slowly starting to turn into Daemon 2.0

Warnings: Incest (duh) swearing.

Part 1, part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Part 9

Aemond won duel after duel, the crowd going absolutely ballistic after every single one of his victories and Y/N couldn’t be prouder of him. She remembered him as a child going on and on about how he would someday win tourneys, how those hopes came crashing down when he lost his eye. He'd written to her, telling her of how the maesters had informed him that he would never be able to fight after the incident.

Yet here he was, in all his glory, standing victorious of yet another round of a duel.

Daemon, nor Jace and Luke, seemed as thrilled about this as Y/N was. Rhaenyra too was a bit surprised to see her half-brother here and when she asked Alicent, she too seemed just as surprised as the rest.

As Aemond walked away from his opponent, about to sheath his sword, the supposedly defeated lord stood up, ready to attack from behind. Y/N barely had enough time to process what was happening and yell for Aemond but luckily for the princess, her prince was quite sharp.

He heard the sound of the heavy footsteps trudging through the muck. But even though he did manage to somewhat dodge the direct hit of the sword, he didn’t manage to avoid it completely. The sound of the metal of the sword screeching against Aemond's armoured hand was teeth gritting and Aemond flinched away, clutching his arm as pain surged up.

"That’s foul play" Y/N leaned in to mutter to her father "Aemond already won that-"

"Let us applaud the victor, Dalton Greyjoy!" Daemon announced as he clapped causing his daughter's jaw to drop with disbelief.

"Kepa, Aemond had already won that round!" Y/N stood up, her tone stern as she repeated herself. It was the final round of the duel and she did not wish to be promised to Dalton out of all people. She barely even knew him.

Jace and Luke were applauding and whistling rather joyously and Y/N was getting irritated by the minute.

"Perhaps the both of you should like to marry him, hm?" She snapped, catching the both of them by surprise at how harshly she spoke "one more sound and I will have you both thrown out of here"

"Y/N.." Rhaenyra tried to calm her down "I'm sure your father won’t do something that upsets you-"

"Lord Greyjoy, I give you my permission to court my daughter" Daemon smiled at the same time that Rhaenyra winced.

Aemond stood frozen with rage. It was clear that Daemon was only doing this out of pure spite.

"I do not wish to court him!" Y/N quickly snapped, rather loudly too because Dalton seemed to frown at this the same time as Aemond smirked.

"So much for being named victor" Aemond sneered aloud "by the looks of it, the princess would rather stay a spinster than court you"

This caused a few snickers to arise from the crowd and Dalton retaliated by attempting to throw a punch at Aemond, which he managed to dodge effortlessly before whacking him on his back that made him stumble and fall face first into the mud.

"Prince Daemon" Aemond chuckled mockingly "you would have your daughter court and then, perhaps, marry this man? He can barely defend himself, let alone protect the princess"

Alicent winced. She didn’t wish for Aemond to incite some more chaos like how he did at the dinner.

"At least I am a complete man" Dalton smirked up at him through gritted teeth and Aemond reacted by kicking some of that wet mud straight into his face.

"That is enough!" Rhaenyra stood up, tired of having to deal with these kinds of fights over and over "I think we are done for the day"

And with that the crowd dispersed, groaning with annoyance. They were only just enjoying this newfound entertainment. Aemond too sheathed his sword and stormed off toward the castle, where the other members of the royal family were headed. After such a dismal day, he needed a nice warm bath to wash off the stench of mud, sweat and disappointment.

Alicent excused herself to go after her son and to inquire him about what made him show up in the first place; her handmaidens following after her.

"I thought you said you were on my side" Y/N snapped at her father once they were inside the walls of the castle, occasionally shifting glances between him and her half-brothers "Instead you lot seem to be having a joyous time working together to make my life a misery"

"You'd be doing that to yourself if you take that cunt as your husband" Jace added, Luke snickering at his comment.

"You both ought to learn how to speak to me" the princess coldly warned, not bothering to look at them "I am your future queen"

"Only because my brother's crown was handed to you" Luke threw back at her with the same amount of venom "you are not the direct descendant of King Viserys' heir: our mother"

"You are in no position to question my claim to the throne" Y/N chuckled darkly "I fought for your claim despite knowing the truth about you"

"Y/N that is enough" Rhaenyra interrupted sternly. She knew where her step-daughter was going with this conversation and she did not want their family getting divided over this.

"Are you suggesting we are same thing Aemond accused us of being?" Jace asked as his jaw clenched "bastards?"

"Why would I have reason to question that, I wonder?" Y/N batted her eye lashes and that only seemed to infuriate Jace.

"You are just as bad as them!" Jace shouted.

"Them? Us?" Y/N shot back "it was you who created this division between everyone by wasting away your childhood, bullying a poor boy simply for never having a dragon"

"You still defend him-"

"Because you have never given me a reason to defend you!" she took a step forward and Rhaena held her by the hand "I vouched for Luke, like I promised. And all you've done is make my closest friend's life, and now mine too, an absolute mess"

"Simply because we wish for you to wed someone else?" Luke asked.

"It is not your choice to make! Y/N raised her voice again. Gods, these boys would drive her to insanity "you both turned against me the minute you were made aware of me being named heir to the iron throne. Are you that jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jace scoffed "I am my mother's first born son. That crown should be mine"

"I am the blood of a dragon, that crown is just as much mine as it is anyone’s whose name is Targaryen" Y/N snapped "I have had it with you. If you are still bitter about it, so fucking be it"

And with that she stormed off, leaving everyone looking at each other in silence.

"I should go check on her" Rhaenyra followed, Daemon walking after her.

"You shouldn’t be so harsh on her" Rhaena broke the silence "it was not her choice to make"

"Exactly," Baela piped up, turning to look at Jace "our sister always supported Rhaenyra's decision to name you heir. If your mother changed her mind, you should know that Y/N is not the one you need to blame for it"

"If we keep fighting amongst ourselves, we are going to end up just like the greens and the blacks" Rhaena reminded "we are the only ones who might be able to reunite our house"

"And as much as I hate the idea of it, Y/N's marriage to Aemond will help" Baela added.

"Aemond is not any saint" Luke scoffed "he only likes your sister because she's been his friend all these years. His hatred for us will never wither away, even if they marry"

"At the very least, it will form a sort of truce" Baela tried to sound optimistic "as much as we love you boys you need to keep in mine Y/N is our sister and whether you like it or not, we do feel rather joyous of her being in line for the throne"

Jace and Luke exchanged glances. They both knew the twins had some truth in what they spoke. Not wanting to prolong the argument, the boys just nodded.

Y/N went off to find Aemond.

After a few minutes of searching and asking around, she found him in a hallway that was close to the bathing rooms. He was busy talking to some girl, by the looks of it she was perhaps a servant of Alicent. Aemond was as serious as ever, but he probably stated something funny since Y/N heard the girl laugh heartily as she placed her hand on Aemond's arm. When the prince took notice of Y/N he excused himself from the conversation and walked toward the princess.

The princess waited for him to approach her, offering a polite smile to the servant girl who took her leave and walked away to give them some privacy. Y/N had noticed that Aemond had put his eye patch back on.

"I hope I did not intrude" Y/N sweetly told him, referring to the conversation he was having with one of the servants.

"Oh, do not fret" he assured, his frame rigid as always "Alys was only informing me that a clean set of clothes was placed-"

"Alys? What is she doing here?" Y/N asked curiously.

"She's serving as one of my mother's handmaidens. You know of her?" Aemond cocked his head slightly.

"Aegon mentioned her" the girl told him with a shrug "your childhood dancing partner"

"Ah yes" Aemond grinned, not saying anything more.

Y/N was never the jealous type, nor did she feel threatened by anyone; she was confident in that sense. But for some reason the thought of Aemond agreeing to dance with somebody that wasn’t her, his childhood best friend, seemed to irk her just a touch. And she did not seem to like how freely that girl touched Aemond.

Not that she cared.

"I was just headed for a much-needed bath" he pointed behind him at one of the doors "care to join me?"

Y/N gave him a cheeky grin before looking around. No servants. She then held his hand and guided him into the room in which he'd told her there was a bath drawn for him.

Y/N was far too comfortable with stripping bare in the presence of Aemond. He, on the other hand, was still taken aback by her boldness.

She was always vivacious, Aemond thought, but was she always this beautiful? Did her-

Stop.

Aemond tore his gaze away from her when he caught himself staring at her for far longer than necessary. Once Y/N was done taking off her jewellery, she went to help Aemond out of his armour.

Aemond casually stole glances at her. Her hair tumbled past her shoulders to her waist in elegant curls of brown and silver. Her skin felt soft each time his fingers accidentally brushed against her.

Was she always this beautiful?

Once he too was rid of every last bit of garment he had on, she pulled him toward the large pit-like tub, much similar to the one back at King's landing. Once they reached the edge that then dipped into the ground, in which the water was filled, Y/N shifted to the side and pushed Aemond in.

The prince was caught off guard and rose to the surface quickly, pushing his wet hair back and sternly eyeing Y/N who had broken into fits of giggles. She then slowly climbed in using the stairs which were a little further to the right but Aemond wasn’t going to let that happen.

He reached up and grabbed her by the hand, pulling her in with such force that she fell straight in.

"Hey!" she laughed when she rose to the surface, wiping the water out of her eyes. She then splashed water straight at Aemond who stepped back with a chuckle, as if he was expecting it. He too splashed water right into her face that had her taking a few steps back, spitting the water back out.

"Idiot" she shook her head with amusement, rubbing her eyes again. Aemond only grinned as he took a step closer to brush her hair out of her face, letting his fingers linger on the soft skin of her face.

Y/N smiled up at him, allowing him to fix her hair before she reached up to take off his eye patch, which she only just remembered that he still had on, but he flinched away from her before she could touch his face.

Y/N's smile fell in an instant.

"I wasn’t going to hurt you" she told him, thinking maybe that was his reflex.

"I know you wont. That isn’t why I.. " he calmly told her, suddenly feeling bad for being the reason behind her smile dropping "I'm just.. Earlier I was told.."

He was fumbling over his words, again, a rare occurrence.

Y/N cautiously came closer before her eyes landed on the nasty bruise on his left arm. His skin was painted with painful shades of greens, blues and purples.

"Gods, I am so sorry" she covered her mouth to hide the gasp that escaped her lips "I shouldn’t have pushed you in-"

"Oh no no," Aemond almost smiled at her genuine concern and how she thought she was the one who'd accidentally hurt him "this happened earlier, at the tourney"

Y/N sighed with relief before she gingerly reached out and traced around the bruise with the tip of her finger.

"It must hurt you terribly" she tenderly spoke, leaning in to kiss his skin.

"I've endured worse..."

The faintest gasp escaped Aemond's lips when he felt her lips trail along his arm, gently peppering his bruise with kisses.

"Kepa always used to kiss my injuries to heal them faster"

Aemond remembered when she had kissed his bruised knuckles the morning she was leaving him for Dragonstone.

Y/N trailed her kisses up his arm, his shoulder, along his neck, and his jaw until she reached his scar that peaked out from beneath that eye patch.

"You are perfect Aemond" she whispered, her lips brushing against his cheek "I wouldn’t change a thing about you"

Aemond's breath hitched in his throat as he felt her arms pressed against his stomach, how her nipples brushed against his chest, her face only inches away from his.

Was she always this beautiful?

"May I?" she asked, almost in a whisper and Aemond knew exactly what she meant. He gave her a nod of consent and the girl reached up to gently take off the eye patch.

She smiled before she leaned in yet again to kiss his cheek, along his scar, right under his waterline. around the edge of the sapphire near his temple, going on her toes to kiss all the way till his forehead where his scar stopped.

"You are perfect, Aemond" she cupped his face and Aemond subconsciously pulled her closer by the waist.

"Y/N?" he called out her name softly "you are really beautiful"

***

Daemon sceptically eyed the handmaiden as he leaned forward in his chair.

"You saw them yourself you say?"

"Yes, my prince" she looked down at the floor "they both slipped into the same room to bathe. My! what scandalous thing"

"I know my daughter to be more responsible than that" Daemon heaved a sigh, still maintaining his pointed gaze "and even if she did engage in anything you claim to have seen, I do not care"

"Oh but I'm sure the other nobles might" she masked the venom in her voice by giving an innocent smile "who would wed her then?"

"If you are fool enough to spread any gossip, the one you claim she sneaked off to the bath with will wed her" Daemon said with a shrug "and I shall personally have you hang-"

"From what I've been told, the queen had declined princess Rhaenyra's previous proposal to wed her son and the queen's daughter" the girl looked away, not caring that she had interrupted him "what makes you say she will agree to this match?"

"May I ask what drives you to find reason to ruin my daughter?"

"I'm afraid Aemond is doing the job fine himself by asking her to bathe with him" she chuckled

"You are not answering my question"

"Oh no, I do not wish to ruin her" she batted her lashes "I simply want the same thing you want: to keep Aemond away from her"

Daemon leaned back in his chair, heaving a sigh.

"So for your own personal gain"

"Well, we're both getting what we want"

"And how, may I ask," Daemon eyed her curiously "will you manage to seduce a prince like himself?"

"I have my ways" she smirked.

"All right, you may leave Alys"

Taglist: @ladybug0095 @sahvlren @bunny24sstuff @dellalyra @ellabellabus07 @champomiel @fan-goddess @lilostif16

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan nation #hotd #house of the dragon #tom bennett #world on fire #aemond #aemond smut #aemond x you #aemond headcanons #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x y/n #daemon targaryen #daemon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon smut

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