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void-ink-studios · 2 years ago

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Incarnations AU - Backstory

I think I’ve settled on the name Incarnations AU and will be tagging all art/fanfic as such from now on. This is a Kirby gijinka AU, where I’ve taken the strange cannon lore, turned it into wet clay, and played with it on my stupid little pottery wheel.

You can check out the oneshots I write for this AU over HERE on AO3, but today, I’d like to try and rewrite the first chapter as an actual story. When I first wrote it, it was pure stream of consciousness and trying to get thoughts on paper. So, here’s my author redemption arc. Enjoy!

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Within the land of Dreams, within that strange cosmic fog that lies beyond our own awareness, there lived a civilization split in two. With minds and magic beyond all, these twin societies dominate, endlessly circling each other, endlessly building off each other.

In brilliant White and Gold, there were the Magi, musicians of reality, plucking the strings of magic, altering their world with their soundless songs. In gorgeous Black and Silver were the Physicus, who toiled and tinkered with their minds and hands, forcing reality to their will. Together, the two forged great artifacts of wonder, ones to better explore and expand over the cosmic fog in the land of Dreams.

The Physicus clicked together the gears of Clockwork Stars, while the Magi imbued them with the power of Dreams to grant wishes. The Physicus crafted great ships known as the Starcutter Fleet, and the Magi put the wind of the stars into the sails.

The Magi, meanwhile, created a brilliant silver to see into other worlds, so the Psysicus refined and contained it to a great Mirror where they could see and journey forth. The Magi captured the power of a Wishing Star’s nebula, and the Psysicus channeled it into a staff more powerful than much of their artillery.

At the center of all, the center of these two civilizations known now as the Ancients, there was Void. Void, that great creator, from which the chaos of Dreams is given form. Void, once dormant, now gazed out into the cosmos, within their gilded cage at the center of a galactic power. Without Void, the Magi would have no great strings to pluck, and the Psysicus would have no Star metals to forge. There would be no Ancients without Void. But what would Void be without them? It mattered not to Void. What worth would it have to crush the ants that built their mound around them?

It is lost history, in how it happened. Perhaps the Physicus experimented into forces that should’ve remained lost in shadow. Perhaps the Magi plucked at the perfectly incorrect string. Perhaps it was fate, or pure cosmic accident.

Regardless of the how, the what has left its scars across the land of Dreams. For, one day, Void trembled. It shuddered and cried and agonized. And then it purged. It purged, and then one became two.

A being of brilliant orange and gold and black spilled from Void that day, standing on trembling legs and wet wings. It was thus that the first Incarnation was born. It was the Butterfly of Paradise. It was the silent watcher and end to all. It was the Incarnation of Judgement.

It was Morpho Knight.

Morpho Knight had vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, but it had taken something important with it. For now that one had become two, the one left behind was missing something. Void had become a being without Judgement. A creature without reservations. A creature with no concern for the ants that stared in confusion and horror.

It was only through the combined effort of all Star Allies, and the creation of new and terrible weapons that the Ancients could face the beast now known as Void Termina. The Star Sparkler, the Crystal Cannon, the Rainbow Sword, and the Love-Love Stick were all forged in the fires of desperation, while the Starcutter fleet fell one by one.

It was the creation of the Jamba Heart from the Magi and the Jamba Needles of the Psysicus that the monster was subdued. Void could not be destroyed, not by mere mortals. It would be foolish to hunt for Morpho Knight, even more so to think it could be forced to fight.

So, Void exchanged a gilded cage for a darkened cell.

And the Magi and Psysicus were reminded of just how mortal they were.

The two civilizations watched each other, as they tried to rebuild. They watched the weakened states they were all in, with their core locked in a box with no key. They watched as they realized that the other was defenseless. It was only a matter of who would strike first.

It was the Psysicus, paranoid of magic, and emboldened by their weapons of science. They would not need the Magi anymore, they had decided. What if their magic strings caused yet another disaster? What if they found a way to outdo their glorious machines? The Magi, they decided, would be driven out, and they’d take that ticking apocalypse with them. They split their great planet in two, and rocketed away the undesirables to the darkest, deepest corners of space, with only enough fuel to get them there.

The Magi found themselves surrounded by darkness. There were no strings to pluck here. There were no Wishing Stars to harness, no starlight to sail on, not even pinpricks of distant stars of old allies. It was just them, and the darkness crushing them from above.

The bitterness took hold quickly. A few managed to scrape together remaining Starcutters to find some escape, but most had decided to spit on the stars. They turned inward, to a darkness that yet gave off light. They began to worship what was once their doom.

And thus began the Cult of Void.

This worship, this saturation of hatred and despair, it woke something within what remained of Void. And it trembled again. As one pin was wrenched free, a deafening scream wailed throughout the darkest corners of the Land of Dreams. Something was unleashed that day. It was the darkness itself, a consumer of light. It was the Incarnation of Despair.

It was Dark Matter.

Dark Matter was not a who. It was a What. A dark cloud of hundreds of eyes swirled around the Cult of Void. The ones who didn’t go mad described the cry of millions of tears. It was the deepest of melancholies. As did its older kin, it fled quickly into the abyss. But not before one lone Ancient was able to trap a piece into a once unremarkable crown. This Ancient, who’s name is lost to time, placed the crown upon their head, and declared themselves a king.

The Ancients were never heard from again, after that day. The Psysicus, so paranoid and proud, vanished in a blink. Their great planet and cities were swallowed, seemingly by the darkness itself. The refugees of the Magi drifted away, to fates unknown. No one came back for the Cult of Void. No one peered too closely into the Darkness as they continued their worship.

As they pulled on pins, twin Incarnations were purged from Void. One was Dreams. One was Fear. The Incarnation of Dreams warped away as quickly as it arrived to pierce the veil of Dreams. The Incarnation of Fear found itself a feast of screams.

It was eons before the Cult recovered enough to attempt again. It was smaller than the others before it, and for a moment, the Cult had wondered if Void had weakened. Then it spread brilliant feathery wings and attempted to carve its way to freedom. The Incarnation of Ambition was bound in glittery gilded chains, and a dog was made of it. It became a weapon, turned on whatever planets the Cult had wandered too close to.

Glittering horns grew longer, as did its resentment. It turned on its captors the second they got lazy with their new toy. It was only through their long ancient magics that they were not all wiped out, as the Incarnation was trapped in crystal only their kind could open.

Meanwhile, the Incarnation of Dreams had found itself trapped as well. Its careless warping was bound to have its consequences eventually. Warping had made the planet it had found unstable, patches becoming incompatible to life. One couldn’t really blame the locals for trying to keep it contained. They studied it, wondered, got curious. And it was that curiosity that opened the door.

The Great Warp Event, a catastrophe and a blessing all at once. The humans of the Forgotten Land were warped, in location, body, and mind, to a new home, a small nowhere planet called Popstar. In a planet not known to them, in minds and bodies not known to them, a new civilization began to rise. However, that warp was not without consequences. Many of the animals were left behind, and the Incarnation was cleaved in two. ID-F86 went dormant and ID-F87 fled into the newly abandoned world.

One more pin was pulled before the Cult of Void finally fell. And from that pin fell the last of the Voidborn. A small, nervous Incarnation, despite the fact he was meant to be the Incarnation of Bravery. He bolted off, and there was no one left to stop him. Only one of the Cult of Void still stood, but it is out of spite he continues to stand.

The remnants of the Ancients drifted through the cosmos. The Master Crown fell into the hoard of the Great Dragon Landia. The last of the Starcutters was discovered by a small alien, perhaps an Ancient descendent, named Magalor.

But the energy of the Great Warp Event rippled through the universe and back. Many of the artifacts became drawn to it, the Dimension Mirror, the Star Rod, the Love-Love Stick, the Rainbow Sword, and several scraps of ships lost wedged themselves in the mountains, forests, and plains of Popstar. The smallest of the Incarnations found his way here, his way home.

It was not the only one. But Popstar had a defender now. A dark mage from the heart of the dark hive was locked in a chest. The devourer of Fear, once the nightmare of Bravery, now sits bound in a staff atop the Dream Fountain.

The energy of Void saturated everything around the tiny planet. It swam, oozing from the Great Warp Event’s residual energy, from the artifacts that pulled energy from Void itself, from the Incarnations, there willingly or otherwise. And there was Joy. Joy from the people of Popstar, more powerful than the hate of the Magi.

And from that joy, a new Incarnation laughed.

And from the darkness, hundreds of eyes search for them.

#kirby #Kirby gijinka #kirby fanfic #kirby au #Incarnations AU #kirby lore #kirby morpho knight #kirby galacta knight #kirby nightmare #kirby dark matter #kirby fecto elfilis #kirby meta knight #kirby ancients #long post #fanfic #backstory

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whats-my-question · 4 years ago

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Art and Love

Pairings: George Weasley x gn!reader

Warnings: implied depression, a few curse words, and not a warnings but fred’s alive

Summary: (Y/n) is unhappy without art and everyone can see that. George (& Fred) help them remember their passion.

Word count: 1894

A/N: hey everyone!! its been such a long time since i’ve written and posted and this one felt right to be the first to hopefully get me back into it. this story is very dear to my heart bc george is a huge comfort character for me. Also bc i know what it feels like to love something and question if 1. im good enough and 2. its worth doing. please let me know what you all think! THANK YOUUU :)

Fred and George Weasley have been your best friends ever since childhood. You three have been inseparable. For as long as you can remember you have always encouraged and supported their dream of opening a joke shop. Especially when others told them it was a silly dream; one that would never happen because the boys came from a family who had nothing. That never stopped them and after years of trial and error - as well as many detentions while attending Hogwarts - their dream became reality and soon the joke shop was the busiest and most popular store in all of Diagon Alley.

For all the support you provided, they always returned it. The boys knew how much art meant to you and how much joy it brought into your life. For them it was jokes, for you it was art. Your loved ones enjoyed getting gifts from you as they knew it was always handmade without the use of magic (well… most of the time). Like one year for Christmas you made Mrs. Weasley Molly a charmed ceramic teapot with all her children’s names, in their own handwriting and a cup for each one. It’s been years now and she still thanks you every time she uses it. She even had you add Harry, Hermione, Fleur, and yourself to it as she saw you four as her own.

Pottery, painting, sculpting, jewelry making, you were into it all. Of course you had your favorites and the ones you excelled at but just being able to try all the different means of art brought you immense joy. The boys were the only ones to know about your wish to open your own shop and gallery. They never let your dream die while you were kids and now as adults they try every means necessary to coax you into opening one up but you always hit them with the same response: ‘I don’t have time and if I did, no one would be interested and it would fail.’

So that wish of yours soon faded to the background as you were hit with the harsh reality of life while attending Hogwarts. You decided to buckle down and switched your focus towards herbology and potions. It was two subjects you were thankfully good at and after leaving school you could put it to use by being a healer as well as helping the guys with products.

Your goals weren’t the only things that changed during your time at Hogwarts. The way you carried yourself around each of the twins shifted drastically. With Fred you were more talkative and open because you loved him as nothing more than a brother. On the other hand, you grew shy and insecure around George because you realized one day as he talked to you before class started you not only liked him, you loved him. In fact you had loved him for many years prior but you buried those feelings deep because you could never admit to him or Fred in the chance of changing the dynamic of you three. Or far worse, lose them altogether.

It was like that for months until Fred noticed how lovestruck you always looked especially around George and finally put two and two together. With that new piece of information and the knowledge he had of George liking you, he set his plan into motion with the help of the golden trio and Ginny.

You lot had plans to go to Hogsmeade and spend the day together but slowly they started to drop like flies. Ginny wasn’t feeling well so Harry took her back to her room; Ron somehow injured himself and begged Hermione to go with him to see Madam Pomfrey. Once they said their goodbyes it was just you and George, you six had lost Fred earlier on when Angelina and Katie passed by.

Although there was a comfortable silence between yourselves, your thoughts were far from silent. You kept trying to think of something to say but nothing seemed good enough. When you finally decided you were just gonna bring up some homework you were supposed to help him with, George broke the silence.

“Do you ever think about our lives after Hogwarts?” He questioned barely glancing over

“I do, quite a lot actually. What about you?”

“What do you thi-

“(Y/N)!” turning around to find a tall, blonde Ravenclaw boy with a brown wrapped package under his arm jogging up to you and George, “(Y/N) I’m so glad I spotted you!” Ignoring the redhead at your side, “I wanted to give you this as a thank you for helping me with that essay for Sprout’s class. It’s not much but I hope you like it.”

You opened it to find a beautiful leaf embossed leather bound notebook.

“It’s gorgeous Will but there’s no way I can accept this!”

“No, please take it. That was the best paper I’ve ever written AND the best grade I’ve received in her class. You definitely deserve it. I was actually wondering if… umm… you wanted to go out with me sometime?” The boy scratched the back of his head while you heard George scoff just loud enough so only you could hear

Will was a nice guy and good looking too but he wasn’t who you wanted. Looking at the ground and then back at the blonde boy, you took a deep breath and intertwined your fingers with George’s, “I’m very sorry but I’m with George..”

“Oh Merlin, I had no idea! I’m the one who should be sorry! Don't even worry about it. It’s all good. ” Will laughed trying to break the tension that was suddenly suffocating, “Well uh thank you again for your help and I hope you enjoy the notebook! See ya around. Bye guys.” He walked away quickly leaving you and George behind

You two remained standing in silence with your fingers laced until the realization struck you that your hands were still connected.

“Oh gosh George I’m sor-

You were cut off by his lips on yours and they were gone as quickly as they were on.

“Never be sorry for holding your boyfriend's hand.” his smirk dripping off his words

You looked at him with wide eyes just to be met with that famous George Weasley smile, the one that captured your heart years ago, “W-What?”

“I love you (y/n). I have for a while and I guess having someone ask you out right in front of me was the kick in the arse I needed.”

“I love you too George.” Placing your free hand on his cheek

Now here you two were, a few years later and the love you have for George seems to grow each day. Your life was everything you hoped it would be except one huge thing. You hated work. Straight from Hogwarts you were excited to see what the day may bring and welcomed each day with a smile. Anymore, you were bitter and groaned when you had to leave for work.

George saw first hand how your light was slowly fading, he knew of your problems at work and not to mention the fact that you didn’t have any motivation to do art. Which caused him to worry and not before long all his thoughts were on figuring out a way to help you. This change in attitude did not go unnoticed by Fred as he had stopped him on several occasions from eating some of their… deliciously, gross sweets. Today being one of those occasions; George was preparing the cash wrap before opening the shop and almost ate a couple of puking pastilles until Fred noticed and whacked his hand.

“What is going on with you mate? That’s like the hundredth time I’ve stopped you in the past week.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…” rubbing his hand on his freckled face, “It’s (y/n). They’re not doing well. I wish they would find another job or at least pick up art again.”

“I kn- Wait, they don’t do art anymore?!” Fred questioned

“No, for one they never have time with work and secondly they’re convinced they’re not good so why bother. I also know for a fact they gave up on owning their own shop years ago too.”

“That’s bloody insane.”

“Right?! They’re amazing at what they do and…” George trailed off as he was glancing around the shop until his eyes landed on a few empty shelves, “You know Fred, what if we let (y/n) hav-

“Yes, of course!”

“Really? You don’t even know what I was going to ask. What if I was going to suggest something ridiculous?”

“You want to give them those shelves over there to sell some of their work, right?” Fred didn’t wait for an answer before going on, “Literally anything for (y/n). Like you said they’re damn talented. Plus they’ve put up with all our bullshit for years, they deserve something for that!”

“Seriously? You’re cool with that?”

“Of course. Like I said they deserve it for putting up with us and it will finally get you to stop worrying all the time. Actually, why don’t you offer them a job here? That way they can focus on art again and they won’t be so…”

“Unhappy.”

“(Y/N)?!” The pair said in unison

“Hey…” Waving awkwardly coming around the corner

“How much of that did you hear?” George’s face grew red as he questioned

“Since Fred agreed to your suggestion. I really don’t deserve you George Weasley. Thank you.” Kissing his cheek then looking over at Fred calling him over for a hug, “Both of you.”

Not even three months later, you could hardly keep your shelves stocked and when you did; there wasn’t enough room. It was finally time you looked into your own shop which led you to today. George was by your side while looking at several spaces for you to call your own; little did he know you had already found it. It was the empty shop right next to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. You had signed the lease and been working on making it look more like you for a couple of weeks unbeknownst to George.

“Hey Georgie, I have a surprise. Will you put this on?” You asked while handing him a blindfold as you two walk back to the joke shop

“Mhm… Okay… Anything for you, love.” He kisses you before putting the blindfold on

“You can’t see anything right?”

“Right. What i-”

“Promise?”

“Promise (y/n/n).”

You lead him in front of your shop where your family and friends stand in anticipation. You quickly leave his side to stand in the middle of everyone, “Okay, you can look!”

You all scream surprise and in that moment you are hit with a sea of emotions as you see the look on the love of your life’s face.

“When? How? (Y/n)!” George runs and engulfs you in his arms, “It looks amazing and right next to us even better! I’m so proud of you darling, more than you know!”

“Oh Georgie, I don’t know where I’d be without you, thank you. For everything.”

This store, your store, not only reflects your love for what you do but the love you have for everyone who supports you and especially for George Weasley.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley fluff #george weasley angst #george weasley imagine #george weasley fic #george weasley x gn!reader #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader

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funtimebunnyblog · 4 years ago

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Hi!! I’ve got a request. I’m not sure if you’ve seen WandaVision or if you watch MCU movies, but I have one that relates to it. How do you think the pillarmen would react to their lovely s/o having abilities like Scarlet witch? Telekinesis, Telepathy, manipulation of reality, force fields, etc. S/o can also technically have flight by using her telekinesis powers too. She’s incredibly powerful! But isn’t physically powerful.

Oh yes! 😮😍🤩 I love Marvel! I grew up watching the movies a lot (you can thank my older brother for that 🤪) and I LOVE this idea, Anon! ❤❤❤

However, I have not seen WandaVision 😭😭😭 IT LOOKS SO GOOD! But I have cruddy internet due to the fact I live far out into the woods 😔 (and the internet has once again thrown spoilers into my eyes like pepperspray) sooo... I can only hope one day I will get the chance to enjoy it 😅

Either way, I do hope you enjoy this! I'm so sorry this took a little longer than anticipated 😅😇 I promise after this request we'll be back to our regularly scheduled writing!

The Pillarmen (separate) with an s/o that has abilities similar to Scarlet Witch...

(Under the cut for length...)

Kars:

• Kars always found your powers intriguing to say the least.

• Even when he first came to the realization that you possessed some sort of "super human" abilities, he found himself wanting nothing more than to study you.

• Perhaps you had done this to yourself by craft or perhaps not...

• In either case, you both were a couple with same differences.

• You could be out there trying to rise to greater power or status (much like he had done crafting his stonemasks), or even go so far as to try and take over the world with your abilities...

• The only problem being that you only found real use for them when reaching for the T.V. remote when it was too far away or manipulating time itself when you were late for work.

• Kars considered giving you some encouragement in using your powers for more but you held no interest in being "powerful" despite the fact you were already powerful!

• And then there was also the matter of you putting your telepathy to use...

• "Are you in the kitchen?" The ghostly whisper of your voice echoing through his mind never failed to send a shiver down his spine.

• "Yes." He replied, frowning into empty air. "Bring me a popsicle." Came the mental command, only making him sigh aloud. "Why can you not just get up and get it yourself? The living room is literally one room over!"

• "You're closer." The simple reply only made him roll his eyes. "And you're the one with super Human abilities, dear." He responded, unable to stop the curl of his lip into a little smirk.

• He was certain he had you now.

• The massive Pillarman could only blink as the fridge to his right started to emanate with a glowing crimson mist, the door suddenly swinging open by itself.

• A single blue popsicle encased in the same mist picked itself out of the freezer and dangled in the air before him before flying out of the kitchen and into the living room before his very eyes.

• "Thanks for reminding me, honey!" Your cheery voice chirped, echoing off the walls of his brain.

• Kars supposed he just had to be content that you were happy with yourself by doing what you wished with your powers...

• Even if it only encouraged you to be lazy.

Esidisi:

• Esidisi, much like Kars, finds you to be a fascinating creature indeed.

• He had no idea that Humans could do such wonderful things without the aid of some kind of craft; like the stonemask that blessed him his own powers.

• He finds it hilarious, not to mention adorable, that you had all sorts of incredible abilities at your disposal and yet... you carried out your life like a normal Human.

• You went to work and paid bills for crying out loud.

• Even from the moment you two met, he always asked you to do things both crazy and (a lot of the times) not a little dangerous.

• He'd ask you to levitate off the ground to reach for something even though he was tall enough to get it, simply because he was amazed you could do so.

• Or he'd plead with you to take him to another reality so he could fight with the robot-pirate empire.

• The man especially got a kick out of the probability manipulation part of your powers.

• "Say, what's the probability my bathtub will be overflowing with rubber ducks when I go in?" He questioned with a grin.

• You pursed your lips, only half paying attention as you were invested in a video game. You hadn't exactly heard his question but still chose to give an answer.

• "Hmm, 170%." Came the reply.

• That was all the Pillarman needed to hear before Esidisi was excitedly scurrying towards the bathroom, practically bouncing as he stopped to make a grab for the doorhandle.

• It was only in that moment when his question truly sunk in with you, making you blink olwishly as you spun around in your seat to stop him. "--WAIT!"

• Too late.

• The flood of rubber ducks hitting him and sweeping him away down the hall as soon as he flung open the door was highly unexpected but very much welcomed by him.

• If anything, you were happy he didn't have a way to obtain these powers himself; then you would have to really use your powers to fix even more problems he made with them.

• However, you wouldn't deny he helped you get some good practice in when making all sorts of requests...

Wamuu:

• Your powers made Wamuu view you as a worthy opponent for a Human, even long before he fell head over heals for you.

• Before meeting you, he had no idea Humans could obtain such incredible feats and abilities.

• He was under the impression that Hamon was the limitation to Human powers.

• But it was more than clear to him that you weren't exactly a fighter despite the fact you could use them for battle.

• After a little persuasion on his part however, he managed to coax you into sparring or training with him in your free time, making the Warrior absolutely elated to see you in action.

• Fighting against you was exhilarating and actually a challenge to Wamuu, he greatly enjoyed every second of it.

• You could easily deflect sharp blasts of his wind with your force fields like nothing.

• To his astonishment, there was not so much as a hair out of place the time he decided to use his Divine Sandstorm on you.

• "Now, make sure you hold onto me and don't let go." You ordered, smiling softly as his massive arms wrapped around your body.

• Wamuu cocked an eyebrow curiously, frowning down at you where you also held him. You had brought him outside and told him that you were going to show him something.

• "What is--?" The Pillarman's words died on his tongue as he suddenly felt his feet lift off the ground, a weightlessness overtaking his body as if he were nothing but a balloon filled with helium.

• He looked down with wide eyes to find that you and him were hovering right off the ground... no, flying!

• The two of you were actually flying and without wings too!

• You could only laugh at his shocked expression, going higher into thee air with every second. His clothes and the wires of his headgear flapped in an invisible breeze as you took him all the way up into the sky.

• Wamuu finally found his voice, his shocked expression now carrying a HUGE smile as his eyes glittered with delight. "My beloved, you're-- You're something absolutely extraordinary!"

• Your powers and the way you use them will never cease to amaze and impress Wamuu. No matter how many times he sees them it always seemed like you had a trick up your sleeve.

Santana:

• From the moment he laid eyes on you, Santana knew there was something very different about you.

• Something... magical. Out of this world.

• You weren't like any other Human he had ever encountered before (and he had definitely me his share of oddball Humans in his life).

• At first he thought that your super Human abilities were some kind of offspring or held some direct link to that "Hamon" ability he knew Humans practiced...

• But with more examination, more time spent with you and some reassurance on your part, he came to find it was in fact something completely different.

• Always curious, Santana liked to watch you use your powers even for just the little things like moving furniture or turning the lightswitch off from across the room.

• Crash! You had heard the vase break form the other room and weren't surprised to find Santana standing over the shattered remains of pottery.

• The red-head looked surprisingly sheepish, he hadn't meant to break it. "Sorry." Was all he said, baby blue eyes dropping down to the mess on the floor.

• A smile appeared as you waved your hand in the air, a bright red fog following your movement. "Don't worry about it," you hummed.

• Santana only stared, lips parted and eyes wide as the pieces suddenly reformed in mid-air. It was as if time went backwards before his very eyes and before he knew it, the vase was standing before him where the mess of shards once was; completely unscathed.

• "See?" You laughed, more than a little amused to see him so astonished. "No problem."

• A soft smile found its way to Santana's lips. You watched the Pillarman lean down and wrap his hands around the pottery gingerly, picking it up and turning it in his palms to check for any signs of breakage.

• "Impressive..." he murmured, making you feel a little boost in pride.

• You couldn't stop yourself from jumping, a yelp escaping your lips, in surprise as Santana suddenly threw the vase down hard on the floor, smashing it to even tinier bits than before.

• His eyes fell on you, still reeling from shock, as he pointed to the mess. "Again?" He questioned.

• ...with great power came great responsibility. And great messes to clean.

• You could only hope he wouldn't break all your plates next just to see you fix them.

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #pillarmen headcanons #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #my wriring #anon ask

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m0r1bund · 4 years ago

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Happy Indigenous Peoples’ Day!

10/12/20:

So. If you’ve been here a year or more, you might know that I have this little journal from back in 2018 that I try to update every year with works from local indigenous artists / created in collaboration with indigenous folks.

It was once hosted on another site, but that one’s since gone to hell! So, I’m shuffling it over here and giving it a little TLC : -) Enjoy!

◆

10/8/18:

You can probably glean from my work that I owe intensely to the people of the Sonoran Desert and surrounding communities. Since it’s Indigenous Peoples’ Day, I’m going to share a few works from (mostly southwestern) native artists that have really impressed on me. If you enjoy anything that I do, I think you’ll enjoy their work even more!

Tyler Bighorse and Suite 104

I was introduced to the work of Tyler Bighorse in downtown Flagstaff, where he runs a gallery called Suite 104.

If you're ever in the area I really recommend dropping by! He sells prints and originals of his works there, as well as other local artists' work. (snagged this sick Legend of Zelda spread for my bro while I was up there.)

Mulaka, by Lienzo

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Synopsis, from their website:

Dive into northern Mexico’s breathtaking landscapes with Mulaka, a 3D action-adventure game based on the rich indigenous culture of the Tarahumara. Renowned for their impressive running abilities, embark on the journey of a Sukurúame - a Tarahumara shaman - as you fight back the foulness corrupting the land, while drawing upon the powers of demigods.

Mulaka was developed by the Chihuahua-based game company Lienzo in conjunction with Rarámuri leaders and anthropologists. Lienzo also aims to keep their game dev local to Chihuahua, which I think is extremely badass.

And the music just. rules. ( Town of Paquimé / Nini Areware Ne Chunume )

Quantum Tangle (Grey Gritt and Tiffany Ayalik)

Quantum Tangle is really really good. Like, really really good. Blurb from their old bandcamp:

Fusing of old-world sounds and new-world flair, the Juno Award-winning group Quantum Tangle is embracing their blended background. Combining their talents of throat singing, haunting melodies and traditional legends, Grey Gritt and Tiffany Ayalik are excited to present pieces that look back through history to challenge, educate and encourage the next generation to be socially aware.

The unfortunate news is that their website went down earlier in the year : -( But the good news is their work is still floating around the internet. I believe you can find them on Spotify and other streaming services as well. Here is a favorite, a love ode of sorts called Igluvut:

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My other favourites for first-time listeners are Love is Love pt. 2 and Tiny Hands : -)

Oral History of the Yavapai, by Mike Harrison and John Williams

Three tribes of Yavapai got together at Bloody Basin. Kewevkepaya, Wipukpa and Yavepe. Three of them. They get together and cook mescal, cook deer. Get together and eat, dance and have a good time. But the soldiers met them there and killed them. Then the White people called the place Bloody Basin. Called it after our blood.

- Oral History of the Yavapai I originally stumbled across this book (in reality a word-for-word chronicle of oral history told by Mike Harrison and John Williams, two Yavapai elders) through one of the sources cited in this blog post: The True Victims of “Bloody Basin” Were the Yavapai.

It really struck me, because to that point all major publications that I'd read had unquestioningly ran the old U.S. Army account of how Bloody Basin got its name (Check out the Verde Independent’s article here, and AZcentral’s take here.) It frames the massacre not only as a “punitive expedition,” but also incorrectly names the victims as Tonto-Apache-- The Dilzhe’e are a distinct people, though the Yavapai people were often conflated with them. It’s much harder to get folks into books, but if you have any interest in the history of the Salt River Valley or surrounding areas at all, this was an invaluable read to me. Be aware that it is vibrant and devastating in equal measures-- but if you can handle it, I highly recommend it.

◆

10/14/19 Additions

The writing of Darcie Little Badger

The Whalebone Parrot and Owl Vs. The Neighborhood Watch were my introductions to Darcie's work and they are so, so full of wit, character, and ghoulish suspense... the kind of stories you would read to family and friends as Halloween closes in, this time of year. I am only familiar with her mystery and horror-adjacent short stories at the moment, but I hope to become better acquainted with her body of work in the near future. You can find a list here, many of which you can read online for free!

Anyway. Let me leave you with the Inherent Horror of Birds (from The Whalebone Parrot,) which I don't think I've seen any other writer capture so artfully:

I wonder if all parrots have dancing eyes. The pupils are in a state of constant flux, contracting and expanding. Big, small, big, small.

“What song is that?” I asked. Her pupils danced: large, small, large. She possessed parrot eyes and parrot songs.

10/12/20 Update: Darcie Little Badger recently published her first book, Elatsoe! Check it here : -)

Imagine an America very similar to our own. It’s got homework, best friends, and pistachio ice cream. There are some differences. This America has been shaped dramatically by the magic, monsters, knowledge, and legends of its peoples, those Indigenous and those not. Some of these forces are charmingly everyday, like the ability to make an orb of light appear or travel across the world through rings of fungi. But other forces are less charming and should never see the light of day.

Seventeen-year-old Elatsoe (“Ellie” for short) lives in this slightly stranger America. She can raise the ghosts of dead animals, a skill passed down through generations of her Lipan Apache family. Her beloved cousin has just been murdered, in a town that wants no prying eyes. But she is going to do more than pry. The picture-perfect façade of Willowbee masks gruesome secrets, and she will rely on her wits, skills, and friends to tear off the mask and protect her family.

The pottery of Nathan Youngblood

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I learned of Nathan Youngblood's work scarcely a week ago, during a visit to the Heard Museum, and it very nearly made me start hooting and hollering in the middle of the museum. It is, without exaggeration, unlike any kind of craft I've ever seen before. His work is something of a marriage between the Santa Clara pottery tradition with Asian ceramics and other traditions world-wide, and it's a coupling that is at once startlingly familiar and yet completely unique.

The art, writing, and games of Elizabeth LaPensée

Elizabeth is perhaps best known for creating Thunderbird Strike!

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(synopsis from its website: )

In the 2D sidescroller Thunderbird Strike, fly from the Tar Sands to the Great Lakes as a thunderbird protecting Turtle Island with searing lightning against the snake that threatens to swallow the lands and waters whole.

But she has a very wide and rich body of work, and among my personal favourites are her visual art. She employs digital collage to create these sort of iconographic pieces, and to me there's a certain joy in the way her work employs silhouette and contour, tracing the shape of a body, the environment within that body, and its place in its environment. It's not something that I can really do justice by describing, so here's a favourite from her ("Thunderbird Circles") that I have on my wall:

#love this desert #long post -

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my-happy-little-bean · 3 years ago

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The Bookkeeper – Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Signature Of All Things

pairings: logicality, prinxiety words: 3453 chapter warnings: mild existentialism chapter summary: talks of philosophy, tea, and a smidge of jealousy.

[read on ao3] [masterlist]

< previous chapter

–

Fray and Far Fables was filled with flowers.

It was clear that there had been some attempt to hide them, but the flowers were indeed there. Daisies squirmed between the floorboards, pink and lilac petals were flattened under rugs, and strings of ivy were draping off of the shelves.

And in the middle of the store was Patton and Roman.

Logan watched, amused, as Patton stuffed his hands into his overall pockets upon hearing the door open. Grass strands and petals fell down his sides as he smiled sheepishly.

“Oh! Logan! You’re...back early!”

“I am actually on time, Patton.” He looked pointedly at Roman, who had formed his magic into a small broom and began idly whistling as he swept up some more petals under rugs. “It seems more like you both lost track of time.”

“Something like that!” Patton rubbed the back of his neck. “How was the play?”

Logan smiled warmly. “It was brilliant. Annie Baker is such a profound playwright. Her expertise in dialogue, the impact of the silence she marked throughout– The Aliens was such a joy. I would love to take you to the next show, I believe it’s playing again next week…”

“Wow, Specs. Forgot how much of a theatre kid you are.”

Logan stuck out his tongue at Roman. Patton, on the other hand, just grinned even wider.

“I am really happy you’re enjoying all of your art- ventures!”

Logan’s smile faltered. “Well, I wouldn’t say...all…”

“Look, I already apologized for the pottery class– how was I supposed to know that a kids birthday party was happening on that day! Plus, you got such a nice bowl out of it!”

Logan snuck a glance at his messed up attempt at a bowl, sitting on one of his shelves. The sides were lopsided—which was a generous way of saying broken—and there was a chip in its rim. He winced.

“If ‘nice’ is synonymous with ‘mess’...then sure.”

“And speaking of mess!” Patton gestured around the scattered flora in the shop. “Sorry for the...well, mess.”

“Don’t apologize! Adventures get messy, padré!” Roman cut Logan off before he could even speak. Roman threw his broom up and jumped to land on the handle, gliding through the air like he was surfing. Logan rolled his eyes.

“That’s quite alright, Patton. It seems like you both had a pleasant time.”

“We did! I think this one has to be my favourite one yet!”

Logan bit his tongue. Patton had been saying that for every book nook he had visited, and this had to have been his fifth one now. Still, he couldn’t seem to grow tired of the bright glow Patton always brought back to his home.

So he nodded along as Patton recalled his and Roman’s latest adventure. Patton was as lively as ever, animatedly telling the story of boundless scenery and endless amounts of peace and solitude.

At one point in the conversation, Logan even closed his eyes and magically summoned his tea tray from his room to the coffee table in the shop. He hoped that doing so wouldn’t interrupt Patton, but it caught his attention immediately. Roman was especially stunned by the act.

“You still seem to have it in you, huh?” Roman said, half-teasingly and half-impressed. He tipped over his own cup of sugar as Patton stared at Logan, starry-eyed.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you do that before!” Patton added on.

Logan shrugged it off as if it were nothing, but was secretly astounded himself. It didn’t feel new, but it didn’t feel like it was always something he could do either. He had gone on several of Patton’s acclaimed ‘art-ventures’—museums, art classes, a concert for the local orchestra, and now this play—and every week this feeling had only grown.

It felt...refreshing. Something within him must have made a reappearance.

Patton continued his story between sips of tea.

“The book was about this young couple running away from their town and moving to a house on a hill! It was Roman’s choice, so it makes sense that it was so good.”

Logan raised his eyebrow at Roman. “I’ve noticed you’ve been reading a lot of books like that nowadays.”

Roman laughed. “The book interested Patton more than it interested me–” He winked at Logan– “but I could see its escapist value.”

“Mere observation,” Logan murmured, studying Roman’s face for any trace of mockery, but it seemed rather honest. Logan pocketed the thought — perhaps one for later.

“It was so beautiful, Lo. Clear skies, all these flowers…” Patton sighed dreamily. “I could’ve stayed there forever.”

“But you can’t,” Logan reminded him. Patton playfully rolled his eyes, nudging Logan.

“But I can’t,” he echoed back, smiling brightly at him. Soft chills ran through Logan’s spine. It felt like flowers were blossoming within him, weaving themselves through his vertebrae and making him melt into springtime madness.

A familiar feeling with Patton nowadays, he noted.

“Did you end up painting something?” Logan managed to say, taking a long sip of tea. Patton’s eyes lit up.

“Yes! Oh, thank you for reminding me!”

Patton flew off his seat and dashed to the counter. Logan exchanged a look with Roman who just shrugged with a knowing smile.

Patton returned with a rather sizeable canvas and turned it around to face Logan, who gasped.

Sprawled on the canvas was a scene that Logan swore was plucked right out of the air and put on paper. In his immediate line of sight was a hill of bright green with flowery dashes of orange, yellow, blue, and purple struck upon the grass. It looked like you could lie down in each patch and sink right through the canvas.

At the centre line of the painting were some darker shades of green and brown making up trees of various sizes — taller from the left side of the painting and narrowing down as Logan’s vision panned across the canvas. Beside the trees was a small house, and beside the house was the faint outline of two dark silhouettes next to a clothesline. The silhouettes wore dresses that lifted slightly in the wind.

And in the background were those bright blue skies, outstretching far beyond the confinements of the piece, going past mountains smoking clouds.

He could feel the valley wind rush past him just looking at Patton’s painting. He could feel each footstep he would take into each fuzzy patch of flowers. He could feel everything.

Logan felt himself zoom back to reality and locked eyes with Patton.

“I…” For some odd reason, his research question echoed in his head.

‘ Is this what it’s all for?’

“What do you think?” Patton’s voice edged with anticipation. Roman looked oddly unsettled by Logan’s silence. Logan, on the other hand, felt as if so many voices were swarming his head.

‘Art…Escapism…’

“Lo?”

‘It’s...it’s to feel...to be transported...to be–’

“I’m blown away, Patton,” Logan breathed out. It felt like sparks were firing off in his chest. “This...this is incredible.”

Patton’s shoulders loosened as he broke into a wide, rosy smile.

“Ah! Thank you! I worked on it for– oh gosh, like probably half the day! I haven’t ever painted for that long in...well, a long time! And I certainly haven’t finished something in one go in even longer!”

“It’s incredible,” Logan said, echoing himself and lost in his amazement.

“That’s what I told him!” Roman said, patting Patton on the shoulder and flying over to the front of the painting. He pretended to stroll through it. “Took a page right out of the book...nook!”

Patton giggled, still bright red. The warm hue must have radiated off of Patton and grazed Logan’s cheeks, which burned similarly.

“It’s not hard to get in such a flow state in those book nooks.” Patton stared wistfully at the painting, as if trying to go back. “I haven’t been this inspired since...forever.”

“How long have you been doing this sort of stuff?” Roman asked idly, floating back down to the tea tray and taking more sips of sugar. “I’m curious as to where a great mind such as yourself found its running start!”

Patton laughed. “It really isn’t anything special, Roman. Plus I don’t want to bore anyone–”

“You could never,” Logan blurted out. He felt the two’s stares burn right through him. “I...I would enjoy a story, Patton.”

Patton smiled, softer than usual. He leaned the canvas against the side of the armchair and sat back down.

“Well, I’ve been drawing since... forever, really!” He sipped his tea and stared out the window. “My favourite kind of art used to be scrapbooking– I would help my mom with decorating photo albums and eventually, I would make scrapbooks out of stuff I drew.”

“That’s precious ,” Roman beamed. “Imagine the nook you can open out of that!”

“I know! I wish I had kept some before I moved out.”

“I didn’t know you used to do collages, Patton,” Logan chimed in. Patton shrugged.

“It was the art style I liked the most, but one of my professors had challenged me to start making something of my own. It was a real slow start, though. I have always known how to take things that already exist and make them into something new — but I never really knew how to...well, make something new..”

Logan furrowed his brow. For some strange reason, he longed for his notebook. Patton’s words felt like they were moving the puzzle pieces in his head closer and closer together–

In a small spark of navy smoke, his notebook and pen appeared on his lap with a small pop!

Logan blinked at it. ‘Did I…’

He felt a pair of eyes on him. Like a deer in headlights, he lifted his head up and locked eyes with Roman. Roman’s eyes flickered then at Patton, before moving back to Logan’s hands. He stiffened, almost...hurt. A chill ran through Logan’s spine.

“Anyway! I found my footing when I moved into this town and found your bookshop!” Patton continued, seemingly not noticing Logan’s abrupt display of magic. “I...well, I didn’t really have any friends around here so I was doing a lot of exploring for inspiration. And when I found your shop, Logan, I...I don’t know! All the books I bought here were always so vivid.” Patton winked at Roman. “Now I know why!”

“What drew you to books?” Logan asked, leaning forward.

“As I said, I liked to make things out of things that already existed. Making paintings based on books – well, it was a bit of a stepping stone to that, you know?”

“But you’ve never painted a truly original piece.”

“Logan!” Roman hissed. Logan looked at him incredulously.

Patton awkwardly fiddled with his thumbs. “I mean, I don’t know if I’ve ever copied anything– I’m more so inspired by everything – but I guess in the way you frame it...no! No, not really.”

“So why do you make art, Patton?”

A beat of silence. Patton tilted his head to the side. Even Roman looked more than unsettled now. Roman’s gaze landed on Logan’s notebook. He narrowed his eyes at Logan, who cleared his throat.

“Um...I’m not sure!” Patton laughed nervously. “Never gave it much thought. But...I always liked the idea of having my art reach other people, since I’ve gotten my spark from other people. I was given something from someone, made it into something else, and wanted to keep sharing that ‘something’ around! Like– like with the book drawings, for example! Those were all for you.”

Logan felt himself draw back. “They...they were?”

“Who did you think they were for, silly?”

“I...I’m not sure. I just...I didn’t know they were made for me.”

“Well of course they were!” Patton reached over to place a hand on Logan’s knee. Sparks crackled beneath the touch. “I love painting for you.”

Logan could feel Roman staring up at him.

“You know, Albert Camus, a French philosopher, posited that art is inherently selfish,” Logan began slowly, flipping through his notebook. “The meaning of any particular form of art is rooted in his ‘logic of the absurd’ – the idea that the human condition is absurd and must hence be revolted. This makes art lack any intrinsic value, since it goes beyond making a meaningful mark on the world and instead reinforces subjective messages into other–s”

“I think we all need a translation from nerd , Logan,” Roman scoffed, though his voice edged with tension. Logan swore Roman’s aura pulsed red, telling him to stop, you don’t need to make every artist feel useless–

Logan sighed, focusing his attention on Patton.

“Essentially, Camus believed that since art was the sort of ‘carrier’ for messages that only promoted awareness of the absurd and attitudes of revolt, there is no essential meaning to it. It just forces an opinion onto someone else.”

“If I may,” Patton interjected. “I...I don’t really think art forces anything onto anyone.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. Patton simply shrugged.

“Art is our way of making sense of the world, and finding the people that understand that same– or at least, similar– sense. I don’t want to make a mark on the world, and I don’t want to give some definite answers to anything. I...I guess I make art to find where I fit, and I hope others can look at my art and find the same thing.”

Logan nodded, still not writing anything down. He could feel himself reach for more answers, as if they were tied to Patton’s very being.

“Also, Logan,” Patton added. “I think it’s interesting that you bring up Camus’ theories of absurdism – theories stating that it is impossible and thus irrelevant for someone to know or understand the meaning of anything. Wasn’t absurdism sort of Camus’ opposing response to nihilism?”

Logan’s jaw dropped. Patton took another sip of his tea and shrugged.

“I took a few philosophy classes in university.” Patton smiled brightly. “Very interesting stuff!”

Roman snorted. A puff of sugar encircled his head. Logan flushed beet red.

“Right,” he said, trying to compose himself. “So do you agree with Camus?”

“Not entirely. I think it’s hard to tie in Camus’ logic of the absurd to the meaning of art. Artistic value can’t really be reduced to just facts. It’s so much more than logical. However, absurdism as a whole has always fascinated me. If the meaning of art, let’s say, is impossible and irrelevant to understand, then you have so much space to make something out of it.”

“I just don’t understand how you are so optimistic that there is anything– that you can make something from– from nothing .” Logan exhaled a tightly-held breath, though found himself less frustrated and more curious. “Virgil Aries stated that in the constant struggle of possibility and reality, reality is always victorious, because reality is all we have. Your conception of art is so intertwined with possibility in the midst of nothing — how can you be so sure that your contributions are hence meaningful?”

Patton took a second before replying, “Do you really believe there is nothing, Logan?”

Logan blinked. The room fell quiet.

“What...what else could there be?” he murmured.

Roman’s presence darkened — quite literally, actually. Logan could feel his aura dim, as if it were sagging in defeat.

Patton, however, gave him a gentle smile.

“Do you remember when I read The Signature of All Things? Alma and Ambrose heavily considered the idea that the novel is titled after — that there is some kind of unifying principle that connects and explains all phenomena.”

Logan nodded. Patton motioned over to the canvas leaning against his armchair.

“Well, I think I’m trying to find that with my art. I’m trying to leave a signature of my own in places that can only be found if looked for — and I can only do that if I choose to believe there’s something in all the…’nothing’.”

He then shrugged, finishing his cup of tea. “But I don’t think that deeply, really. All I know is that if there is a meaning for anything out there, there’s no point in searching for it. It’s probably too big and very...restrictive. You have to make meaning for yourself, then find the places it fits.”

Logan felt dizzy with the new perspective. Janus’ words mixed with Patton’s as Logan found himself immersed in a snow globe of their thoughts.

“Art worms its way into the spaces that it can fit. And with the help of others, art– and everything it represents– is made bigger than the spaces of life they initially occupy.”

He recalled Patton’s painting.

‘Art...is to feel ...is to not escape nothing but...but rather replace it with something .’

Logan looked up at Patton once more, noticing the way he glowed under the sunlight. His words spun circles around Logan’s head like planetary orbit, and he felt the reverberation of pieces snapping together in his mind.

And here was Patton at the centre of it all, still smiling, not knowing everything yet harbouring a spirit of boundless knowledge and new perspectives. It drew him in like a moth to a flame and he didn’t quite know why, but he didn’t feel like he was in a rush to find out.

They continued to talk for the rest of the day, exchanging theories of philosophy and engaging in friendly debate. Logan found himself laughing at Patton’s anecdotes and becoming stunned by his mind. Halfway through their conversation, Logan realized that this was the first time he truly talked to Patton — and suddenly, he didn’t know how to stop.

Night brimmed the edge of the view outside the shop window, stars beginning to dot the sky. Logan and Patton exchanged one last laugh before Patton stood up, gathering his things.

“Please take the painting, Lo,” Patton said, holding up the canvas to him.

“I cannot seriously begin to understand why you would want me to have this,” Logan replied honestly. “It would fare much better in a more honourable display, perhaps a local exhibit or–

Patton shook his head, grabbing Logan’s hand and guiding it to the edge of the canvas.

“It’s for you,” he said, more quiet and more soft. Logan felt almost electrified by the touch and said nothing, just tucked the canvas under his arm and nodded.

Patton turned to leave before stopping.

“Oh! Nearly forgot this!” He fished a ticket out of his bag. “This is for next week’s art -venture.”

“I insist on finding another name for what we’re doing.”

“Nope! Already branded! Roman’s making t-shirts.”

Roman nodded diligently. Logan rolled his eyes and took the ticket.

“ ‘The Rom-Com...Comeback’,” Logan read aloud. He frowned. “I am confused.”

“It’s a ‘throwback rom-com’ event at the cinema– the small one ‘round the corner!” A sheepish pause. “It’s less of an...‘intellectual’ art exploration.”

“What does that mean?”

“...It means we’re watching a movie with Adam Sandler in it.”

“Absolutely not .”

“But hijinks ensue!” Patton pleaded. “Come on, Lo. I know it’s not your usual rodeo but it is fun! And isn’t that the most important lesson that can be learned? A lesson about fun? ”

“That is a complete stretch, Patton.”

“How about I come with you? And I’ll treat you to ice cream or something.” He smiled. “Consider this me sweetening the deal.”

A pause.

“...And this is next week?”

“Ahh yay! That’s a yes!” Patton swung his arms over Logan’s shoulders before Logan could protest, wrapping him in a quick hug. “I’ll pick you up from here an hour or two before!”

“O...kay…” Logan felt his face go warm once more as Patton let go, waving at him as he left the store. The bells hanging over the door chimed as it closed.

Logan stood there, almost dumbfounded, and pocketed the ticket. He looked up at the door Patton left through and felt a smile grow on his face.

And suddenly, he wanted it to be next week.

“Well, Roman, I suppose we’re going to have to find somewhere to hang this upsta–”

He turned to face the coffee table where he assumed Roman still was, but found nothing. He frowned, looking around the shop for any trace of him.

“Roman?”

Suddenly, he heard the muffled sound of a door closing coming from upstairs. His gaze darted to the staircase and he saw a trail of red magic leading up the stairs, presumably to the bedroom. He stared at it, not knowing what to make of it and Roman’s wordless departure; but a second later, he blinked, and then caught sight of Roman’s magic fading quietly into the air.

…

(It isn’t easy, after all, to see someone glow without you.)

—

next chapter >

#TS Storytime 2021 #gabbie writes things #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #logan/patton #roman/virgil #logic/morality #creativity/anxiety

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alifeincoffeespoons · 4 years ago

Note

i enjoyed reading your "sirius adopts harry" fic a lot, i like how you tried to fix and improve upon some aspects of canon (like the curse breakers being a tad imperialist) and also how you gave the characters backgrounds that were apparent in the story (chinese sirius, jewish remus, desi james). it added a lot to the story and characters, and was definitely better than anything jk rowling ever did or will do with minority representation.

oh my god, thank you so, so much! <33 thank you for reading, and i’m so happy to hear that you enjoyed the story! i’ve always been a fan of stories where sirius adopts harry—their surrogate father-son relationship is incredibly touching, in my opinion, and sirius is my favorite character in all of harry potter.

the cursebreakers have always bothered me—they seem like yet another extension of the historical trend of european nations + the usa taking important artifacts from african/asian/south american nations. the british museum, for example, has been criticized—and rightfully so—for continuing to display artifacts that were effectively looted from their home countries (see: pottery stolen from the emperor’s palace in beijing by the french and british during the age of imperialism).

writing the harry potter characters with diverse backgrounds and narratives is so, so important to me as a queer asian woman, and i’m glad to hear that it resonated with you! every sirius i write is chinese, every remus i write is jewish, and every james i write is south asian, because in real life, people do have diverse backgrounds and stories, and i believe that fiction should do its best to replicate certain aspects of reality, even in a fantastical world.

it’s incredibly clear that any research jkr does when writing minority characters—if she does any research at all, that is—is minimal. all we have to do to know that is look at her descriptions of ilvermorny (incredibly imperialistic in her mindset, appropriative of indigenous history) and mahoutokoro (a name that literally means “magical place” and additionally brings up the question of why there are multiple wizarding schools in europe but merely one for all of asia) and her depictions of the few non-white characters in harry potter (that of cho chang being the most glaringly problematic).

this problem, of course, isn’t one only relevant to jk rowling, although she is one of the most problematic authors today—see her blatant transphobia, anti-semitism, lgbtq+ erasure, and racism as examples of such. rainbow rowell is another author who has clearly failed at the task of doing even minimal research when it comes to write characters with minority backgrounds, as seen in eleanor and park. park, of course, is a korean last name, not a first name, and the descriptions of park are incredibly racist—at times, eleanor literally describes his skin as yellow, and his entire character arc is one of self-hatred for his racial identity that has no meaningful resolution.

(as a side note, asian-american and asian characters have continuously been infantilized and reduced to stereotypes in works, even when they are the romantic interests of the protagonist. writing with color has a wonderful post out about this trend today that can be read here.)

if i, a fanfiction writer, can read research papers to try to understand the sociopolitical context of hong kong in the 1980s for a fanfiction, there is no reason actual, published authors cannot do meaningful research when writing characters with diverse backgrounds and stories.

anyway, rant over, and i’m so happy again to hear that this story resonated with you! thank you so much for this kind ask! <3

#my writing #harry potter #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #remus lupin #my asks #minority representation #eleanor and park #rainbow rowell #fuck jkr

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moccahobi · 5 years ago

Text

Written in The Stars [Hoseok x Reader]

Warnings: Cuss words

Summery: Hoseok had always been big on supporting his friends. Thus it came as no surprise that he ended up spending his free time at Namjoon's latest buiseness venture: a little dessert cafe. He didn't expect to fall for the cute barista who always worked when he was there though the.

Word count: 7k words

Genre: Slice of life au; Cafe au

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @kyub for making the banner and @heyitsmeee2, @jung-hoseok-s-airplane, @jiminful, and @elenasgotyourback for betaing. This fic took so much out of me! I had one idea than the next and the main time I had to write this was during school. Oof! I am glad I did it though! Big shutout to @bangtanscenery for orchestrating and creating this project! It was soo fun!

Hoseok sighed from where he was seated in the all too cliche cafe. Namjoon had just opened it up so Hoseok was trying to fulfill his role as a supportive friend by eating there, but it just wasn’t a place he was into. The place was beautiful. He could tell Namjoon and his business partner had quite the eye for design. The wall behind the register was painted in chalk and the menu was written in large swirling letters across it. They had picked a light and natural wood tone for the tables and booths that complimented the dark grey of the metal chairs which were all all seats upholstered with a rich navy blue and embezzled with glittering gold rebites keeping the cushions to the furniture. It was an ethereal kind of look that undoubtedly drew in the crowds.

Looking around, Hoseok’s eyes landed on a large astrology chart sprawled out on the back wall, similar in handwriting to the menu, painting a story with the chart. He only noticed it because Namjoon had a passion for astrology and he would often gush about it to Hoseok who would listen to almost all the times that they met up. To top it off, the ceiling was painted in an all consuming shade of black, mimicking a galaxy with its streaks of white, here and there, which glimmered like actual stars (although Hoseok could admit that the ceiling was almost a piece of art). Aside from the heavy reliance on a theme, it was a dessert cafe. Hoseok liked sweets. Namjoon loved sweets apparently. Almost every food was doused in sugar and it was almost overwhelming just how sweet it all was. They all sounded amazing and cavity inducing (especially the french toast and ice cream combo), and Hoseok was tempted to try them, but he couldn’t handle all that sugar in one sitting. He’d need someone to help and he didn’t have someone to help him today. The only thing Hoseok could handle was the Black Hole coffee (americano with a little sugar) and a Galaxy bagel (it was just a plain bagel with some sugary cream cheese). Hoseok felt a little more like Yoongi, the resident grump of his friends, sitting in the cafe with such… unsweetened foods.

Of course Namjoon’s cafe had some savory food and Hoseok wanted to try them some other time, maybe with Yoongi.The main thing Namjoon sold was dessert though, and to support Namjoon, Hoseok had to have one of the desserts.

What wasn’t a shock about Namjoon’s cafe was that he co-owned and ran it with someone else. Hoseok didn’t know who it was yet, Namjoon having not told him yet but from what Hoseok knew of the current set up, they were manning the counter with two baristas. From what Namjoon had said about his business partner, they were much more focused on what they were serving as well as the astrology side of the cafe work than any of the real business. It gave Namjoon exactly what he wanted: the business side of things and a partner to share the possible debt. Hoseok had finally managed to visit today, their fifth day open and if he had to list the things that he did like, he’d have to start with the ceiling and then mention one of the baristas:

They took his breath away the second he entered the store. They smiled broadly and greated Hoseok and for a second, he forgot that he was at a local cafe and not a family run restaurant back in Gwangju. The world slowed as he looked at them and all Hoseok could think about was the warm feeling of returning to his mom’s friend’s restaurant after his post-school program and eating kimchi and rice.

The trance was broken the second she turned to take someone’s order and Hoseok slowly came back to reality. He wasn’t in Gwangju but he was about to have a wonderful meal in a shop owned by a friend.

Hoseok had only been in the cafe for half an hour and he could already say that he was starting to develop a small crush on the barista. He didn’t mean to and he didn’t dare think about actually asking her out… it just happened. She was a pretty woman doing her job and Hoseok was an attention starved small business owner who was entranced by her caring attitude. Hoseok was stressed and tired. Plus, he was finally feeling better after his last relationship. There wasn’t this constant longing nestled deep inside him at the thought of the end of his last relationship anymore, and he might finally be at a point where dating was ok to do again.

That is what he brushed it off as.

Hoseok didn’t want to think of the alternative. He just got out of a relationship a month ago and was still recovering even if he felt like he might be better now. Sure it might have been a mutual agreement based on his best interests and their best interest, but that didn’t make it any harder. Hoseok still missed the nights when they would spend the night in their apartment and snuggle close while watching cheesy shows or when they’d force him to stop working on pottery for a day and instead grab food at one of the food trucks. He missed the companionship but by now, he didn’t know if he missed them.

He might.

There wasn’t a real way to always tell though. The two went everywhere together. Every place that Hoseok went to now conjured memories that danced and pranced around in his mind. This cafe would be different though. There were no ghost memories dancing around. It was new and he could work effectively and happily.

At some point while Hoseok was finishing his food, Namjoon came over and joined him. The two had barely had more than a handful of conversations since graduating college, both too busy to make time for the other as small business owners (well this was Namjoon’s second business venture, the other supplying him a good source of money to fund him and the cafe). That was how life was sadly but with this cafe open so close to where Hoseok lived and worked that now they might have a chance of having long and winded conversations again.

“Do you remember watching stars on our old apartment’s rooftop?” Namjoon asked at one point, a soft and content smile on his face

“Somewhat. They were nice. Cold, but nice.” Hoseok lied while taking a long sip of his coffee.

Namjoon had always loved the night sky, so much so that he would drag Hoseok out three times a week just to look at the sky. The man could name every constellation and phase of the moon off the top of his head. It was an amazing skill. Hoseok didn’t have that same passion though. Sure, the night sky was nice, awe inspiring at times, but most nights Hoseok would return from work exhausted and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Those nights when Namjoon and Hoseok would go onto the roof and look at the sky were mostly filled with Hoseok drifting off in the cold.

Hoseok did it though and Hoseok would do it again in a heartbeat because it made Namjoon happy.

Namjoon smiled broadly, “That was kinda the inspiration for the cafe’s decorations! My co-owner, Y/n-ssi, really likes astrology so she added some of the more… magical elements.”

Hoseok chuckled and looked around with a small smile growing on his face as well,“I am glad you enjoyed those nights so much. Do you still make time to go out and look at the stars?” Hoseok asked before taking a long sip of his coffee.

“No.” Namjoon snorted, his smile much larger now, “I am a working man. I barely have time to eat, sleep, and breath. Let alone gaze up at the stars.”

“You should make time, Namjoon-ah. It isn’t healthy to work all the time.” Hoseok chastised, taking special care now to scrutinize Namjoon’s face.

He looked very similar to the young twenty year old Hoseok once knew but there was more evidence now of stress and wear-and-tear. Frown lines and bags etched in his face. When was the last time Namjoon took a break from all his work? Hoseok didn’t know the answer. He did know though that he was no better than Namjoon. This was his first real break in a week or two.

“You sound like Minjae.” Namjoon laughed.

Hoseok winced instead, “Sometimes we need someone to look after us, Namjoon-ah.”

“I am sorry, man. I didn’t mean to-”

“It is ok, dude. I am over her.” Hoseok said, carefully watching Namjoon process what Hoseok said.

He still looked stressed, his frown lines growing as he looked at the table instead of Hoseok. Namjoon had set up Minjae and Hoseok and his pride was undoubtedly wounded when the two decided to end it. Namjoon also barely had time to check in with the two so his own memory was probably a little foggy.

“ Anyways, we should try to go camping sometime… or go to some sort of museum for stars. Bet we could stay there for five hours before they’d kick us out.” Hoseok proposed, watching as Namjoon smiled, his frown lines becoming ghosts as he looked back up at Hoseok again as the previous stress left him.

Namjoon snorted in laughter, “I would love to look at the stars with you again, if that is what you’re asking.”

His eyes lit up as he started to speak animatedly, “And we can make s’mores and grill some beef. Oh my god! I haven’t had beef in sooo long. It would be so good!”

“I think we would have to go camping to do that, Namjoon-ah. I don’t know if a museum will allow us to start a fire and cook stuff there.” Hoseok laughed.

“Well then, looks like we will be going camping.”

“Yeah. Looks like we will have to plan that soon.”

A comfortable silence filled the two as they looked out at the bustling cafe, nothing left to talk about. They were both running their own stores, Hoseok had his pottery shop and Namjoon had the bookshop and now this cafe. The two did the same work just in a different setting and neither felt the need to talk about it. Shortly after their conversation died down, Namjoon had to go back to work. He mainly worked in the backroom but there was almost more work to be done.. Hoseok didn’t mind. He understood the struggle. Namjoon leaving actually left Hoseok excited as he could finally start reading the latest book he grabbed from the library. Giddily, he tapped his feet against the floor and quickly pulled the book out of his bag and started to read. The soft and sure feeling of the hardback book grounded him as he started to be carried away by the words. Distantly, he registered people moving around him as life carried on but he didn’t care one bit. The tension rose in the story the further he read and soon enough he found himself tightly gripping the book as more and more problems arose. Time passed at an unknown rate to Hoseok as someone new sat near him or left or readjusted. He barely noticed any and all changes that happened around him, too absorbed in the world he held in his hands (which he was somehow only a third of the way through). That was until he noticed someone sit across him at his table. They said something that he didn’t quite hear or understand and he quickly tried to get to a stopping point so converse with whoever it was (probably Namjoon back to bother him more).He looked up in shock to see the cute barista from earlier, smiling and taking a bite of her sandwich. You were the last person Hoseok expected to see sitting with him. Maybe an old friend and very possibly Namjoon, but you? A cute barista he barely said one word to? Nope.

You blushed and started to speak, a hand covering her mouth to hide the food you were eating, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you for my lunch. I noticed you talking to Namjoon-ssi earlier and you’re reading one of my favorite books and I thought that it could be cool to meet and talk to you. I am Y/n by the way.” She smiled brightly and nodded lightly at Hoseok.

Hoseok laughed quietly and blushed himself before nodding with a smile, “I am Hoseok. Why is it your favorite book? Oh! And no spoilers! I just started the second part.”

“Ah! A bunch of good stuff is about to happen! I am warning you!” You laughed before taking a sip of your drink.

As you did so, Hoseok looked at what you brought with you, namely your lunch box. Hoseok knew that Namjoon built into the budget a small meal for each of the workers during their shift and it struck Hoseok as endearing that you brought your own food instead of eating the sugary sweets offered in the cafe. It was smart too. The sweets probably wouldn’t be the healthiest to eat daily and you could eat more if you packed your own food.

“I really enjoyed the story. It just… it traps you and doesn’t let you go. The author is really good about that in general with her works. I have read some of her other works and they’re so good!” You said, your eyes glued on the book splayed on the table and not Hoseok.

“I am learning that now.” Hoseok laughed, “This is my first time reading one of her works and I definitely want to read more of her stuff. I specifically enjoy how she is associating certain aspects of her world with different textures and feelings. ”

You nodded excitedly as Hoseok kept talking, your cheeks full of food as you ate. His heart fluttered endearingly as he watched you eat and talk about the book, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed with excitement. Time was moving almost as quickly as when he read the book and he enjoyed it. There was something fun about talking about a book with someone. He hadn’t done it since high school (Minjae was always more of a movie or show person and he did other things with other people). Until now, reading had been an activity he’d done alone. He found himself smiling and laughing more with you than he had in awhile. Maybe there was something fun about talking about books with others that Hoseok had been ignoring until now.

Maybe there was something magical about you.

Maybe it was how your eyes drew him in and kept him there. He didn’t fully know.

The fun didn’t last too long though. You came to talk during your lunch break and lunch breaks were short. It didn’t help that as they talked more and more, he started getting inspiration on some new pottery and he knew that he would need to start working on them soon or he might lose the idea (that or he’ll lose the inspiration).. Just to be safe, he excused himself after you finished eating your sandwich and made his way to his shop. He tried to ignore the image of you nodding and smiling sadly as he left that bounced around in his head but it was heard. You simply looked so adorable and he wish that he didn’t have to leave.

In fact, he thought about how he left Namjoon’s cafe in a rush many times over the following week. Regret stewed inside him the more time he dwelled on it and didn’t return to the cafe. He should have risked the idea for talking with you (his new creation barely sold so it probably wasn’t worth losing a conversation). He should have stayed longer. He should have asked you for your number. Then maybe he might have been able to ask you out to meet up (and maybe call it a date). Plus, if he had gotten your number then he might have had enough courage to reenter the shop instead of standing outside of the shop like an absolute buffoon every time he passed it. Like he was currently doing right now. Inside the shop, people were bustling around. A group of children had gathered there after school and were drinking some sort of milkshakes. People were simply sitting there and working. Friends were meeting up. You were working away behind the counter.

He was standing outside like a loser.

He wished that he had the gall to go in and order something (as well as as for your number) but all he could do was watch you flutter around behind the counter as you worked hard, his own heart fluttering and stuttering as he watched you work. Why was he chickening out? He didn’t have this issue when he officially asked Minjae out but with you Hoseok could barely manage to gather up courage to ask for your number. Maybe he wasn’t actually ready for a new relationship.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about possibly having one with you. Hoseok was so confused. Friends could ask for numbers too. It wasn’t inherently a romantic action. Hoseok liked the idea of it being a somewhat romantic action.

He didn’t have the courage to go in today sadly. Hoseok didn’t know when he would have the courage to.

With a disheartened sigh that seemed to cling in the air around him, Hoseok turned around and sat at the bench in front of the cafe. It overlooked streets that were surprisingly empty save for a bus or two. He watched as a couple walked hand in hand on the sidewalk across the street, dopey smiles on their face as they looked at each other.

A pang of jealousy bubbled up in his stomach as he stared at them. The two looked so happy and content. He wanted that. He wanted that with someone who wanted similar things out of a relationship (unlike Minjae). Hoseok could be the man across the street holding hands with a romantic partner if he just asked someone out.

“Crazy seeing you here, Hoseok-ssi.” Your voice shocked Hoseok out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn around to face you.

Your hair was frizzy from a long day of work but your eyes shone brightly, almost saying that you enjoyed every minute of the hard work you did. Hoseok understood that drive. Your navy blue apron complimented what you were wearing underneath too, over all you looked undeniably cute. You took Hoseok’s breath away. Even if you had coffee stains and looked like death, you would have taken Hoseok's breath away.

“Y-y-yeah! I… Uhhh… I was enjoying the view.” Hoseok managed to stutter out, turning red as he kept stuttering.

“Oh really? Street views are nice… Yet, I had hoped that you might have been thinking about coming into the cafe. Guess I was wrong.” You laughed, sitting next to Hoseok on the bench and taking out your lunch box, this time a dinner tucked neatly into it.

Hoseok spent a few seconds to look at the tattered lunch box. You must have had it for a while as there were scratches and dents on it that only came with time and repetitive use.

“I-I… well… I might have been thinking about going inside.”

“And what made you decide to not go inside? Did you want an actual dinner?” You laughed before putting some of your food into your mouth.

“Oh… Uh… no… I just… decided not to. Nothing against the cafe.”

“Ok. And how is the book going?”

“Uhh… It is going decent.”

Hoseok was kicking himself. Just a minute ago he was fantasizing about going on a date with you and thinking about how cute you were and now he could barely finish a sentence! How was he supposed to even possibly ask you out when he couldn’t even get out more than a four word sentence and you were carrying most of the conversation?

He was handsome, damn it!

He was a catch! Yet here he was getting flustered by a barista… what has he come to.

You weren’t just any barista though… You were a cute and interesting barista who liked similar books to him.

“Why’d you decide to come outside and eat instead of eating inside?” Hoseok finally asked, trying to push his nerves aside.

“Oh! Well… It’s hot and stuffy. Plus, you’re here. That helps.” You said quietly and from the corner of Hoseok’s eye he noticed you blush as you gently brushed your shoulder against his.

A fluttering in Hoseok’s heart made his response get stuck in his throat. What was that supposed to mean? Was she interested in him too? How was he supposed to interpret that?

He cleared his throat and spoke, “Yeah… You’re pretty cool too, I guess.”

What?

What is all he could say?

How lame!

“I mean, I think you’re cool. I just don’t know you much yet and don’t want to say something that might possibly be wrong… I don’t think you might not be cool though! I just-”

Your laugh interrupted Hoseok and struck him into silence. It was a melodious laugh that he could listen to for hours on end and never get bored.

“I am glad you think I am cool, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, turning towards Hoseok with a broad smile.

Hoseok’s heart was beating wildly now. Its erratic heartbeats weren’t ideal earlier when you were simply sitting next to him but now? How was he even supposed to focus with you staring at him intently? Especially with your lips looking like the perfect place for his own lips.

Unintentionally, Hoseok started to lean towards you.

They really did look wonderfully soft.

What was he thinking about?

You were practically a stranger! Even worse: you were Namjoon’s employee! For all he knew you were trying to use Hoseok to get a better pay.

But Namjoon paid his employees well… and most didn’t have tons of room to grow with the work as it was a small cafe.

“I enjoy your company too, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok said with a cough as he turned to face the street again.

All of the sudden he was very focused on how hot he was feeling. It wasn’t summer but the heat was… present. He was probably blushing and sweating from the heat. Nothing else.

“Even if we have a conversation like this? Where we’re both awkward?” You asked with a strained laugh, leaning into Hoseok.

You had stopped eating.

“Uhh… y-y-yeah. I am having fun. Even if it doesn’t seem like I am.”

“So… would you enjoy my company if we… went on a date, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked slowly, your voice devoid of all laughter.

“Oh. I. Yeah! Totally.” Hoseok’s voice cracked and he leaned back and coughed to try to cover it up, “I mean… It’d be cool, I guess. Yeah. That would be nice.”

You giggled, “Wonderful. How does… Tomorrow at seven in the evening sound? We can meet up here and then go somewhere close by.”

That was so soon.

He could make it though.

“Yeah. That works.” Hoseok nodded, trying to ignore the incessant vibrations from his phone that was sitting in his pocket.

“Are you going to take that, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked with a small giggle, already going back to eating your food.

“Oh. Yeah.”

He quickly grabbed his phone and looked at who was calling. It was Jisoo, one of his employees.

“Hey… boss. I am sorry but uhh… I can’t make it to my shift. I have been vomiting nonstop. I think I have food poisoning. I am about to go to the hospital. I tried asking Jinyoung but apparently he is currently working and can’t do any more overtime. I am so sorry.” Jisoo spoke hurridly.

Hoseok winced at the connotation. He only had two employees aside from him and this meant that he would have to go in and keep the shop open until ten tonight. Five hours more of work and he needed to leave soon.

“Don’t worry, Jisoo. You didn’t intend to get sick. Take care.” Hoseok said before hanging up and looking over at you, “That is sadly my signal to go.”

You looked like a kicked puppy in that moment, a sad gaze growing as you looked up at Hoseok, “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

All while he walked away, he wished that he could turn around and spend the rest of your break together. He felt like an ass for leaving right after agreeing to a date but his shop needed him. It was the curse of a shop owner and it was a curse that Hoseok had chosen.

Of course, what he hadn’t realized until he got to his shop and Jinyoung had left was that he completely forgot to get your number once again.

He was such a damn idiot at times!

Now he couldn’t text you to fill the time that he was forced to work. He also couldn’t get any more information about your date. Would it be formal? Casual? Where were you going to take him? Should he get a gift for you?

It’d make sense that the two of you would be going on a date after your shift because otherwise why would he meet you at Namjoon’s cafe?

In the end Hoseok fretted all throughout his shift and the night about what he could possibly wear for his date tomorrow. Everything felt wrong and he had no idea what to do. Everything he did and tried on felt like not enough. Nothing felt right and for the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to do. First dates were hard and he didn’t know how to prepare.

He shaved and just barely missed twenty nics and even took a longer than normal to make sure that he wouldn’t stink during the date but what was he supposed to wear?

Despite his panicking and fears, Hoseok somehow managed to calm himself down to restlessly sleep that night and was even able to work in the morning. After work though, he was back to panicking. Somehow Hoseok managed to settle for wearing a simple pair of light blue jeans, one of his favorite large shirts with a smile on it, and his long tan jacket.

His whole afternoon bleed into itself and eventually Hoseok found himself sitting on the bench outside of Namjoon’s cafe, a single sunflower held loosely in his hands as he waited for you (he got it at some point between changing into his current clothes and coming here but he didn’t know if he could manage to pinpoint exactly when he had). He barely had enough sense to wear his jacket for when the sun set and it got cold (or if he had to hide in it if you ended up taking him to some fancy restaurant). He would feel so underdressed if you did.

Why would you though?

From what Hoseok understood, you were just coming off of work so you probably wouldn’t want to go to some fancy place. Plus, working in a cafe wasn’t going to get you too much money, even if one’s employer gave them a living wage. You’d probably be a little pressed for money.

If that was an issue though, Hoseok would be more than happy to pay but he wouldn’t care either way.

It also probably wasn’t Hoseok’s place to pry at this time either.

In a last ditch attempt to make sure he was ready for the date, he quickly tried to check his breath with his hand, only getting blasted with air in his face instead. How was he even supposed to check his breath with his hand?

Had his hair got messed up on his trip here?

Had they even agreed to meet here? Maybe you said a different place instead?

Just to check, he looked inside the cafe and didn’t see you there. It was almost seven so maybe you were in the back? Maybe he could just text Namjoon to make sure you were off at seven. Hoseok didn’t want to overstep yet.

“Are you looking for someone in there, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked from beside him, scaring him to the point that he jumped up and almost dropped the sunflower in his hands.

Once he managed to get his bearings again, his breath was taken away by how etheral you looked. There was almost no way that you had come from work, Hoseok was sure of that. Your hair was beautifully and simply styled and your outfit… Hoseok loved every bit of it. His heart fluttered slightly as he looked you over again (barely noticing the reddening blush growing on your face). You looked so good and for the umpteenth time that day, he questioned his own choice in clothes. He might be really underdressed.

Dress pants would have been better to wear instead of jeans. What was he thinking? He really goofed up.

“Y-You look wonderful tonight, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok finally said, blushing lightly as you laughed quietly.

“So do you, Hoseok-ssi.” You complimented, a broad smile on your face as you stepped closer and looked down at the sunflower.

“I… Uhhh… I got this for you. I don’t know what your favorite flower is or if you even like flowers but I thought it would be nice.” He stuttered out, quickly giving the flower to you.

You looked up at Hoseok with a small laugh before saying, “I love it Hoseok-ssi. Shall we get to the restaurant? I got a reservation for seven thirty.”

“A reservation! I guess it is really fancy, huh?” Hoseok asked, rubbing his neck nervously as he started to walk with you.

“No. Not really. It is just popular and I didn’t want to have to spend the night looking for somewhere to eat. I hope you like Haemul Pajeon (vegetable pancake), I got us a reservation at a small place that is just about three blocks down the street. They make wonderful food.”

“I love the sound of that. How’s your day been so far, Y/n-ssi?” Hoseok asked, biting his lip to hide a large smile growing on his face.

Haemul Pajeon was one of his favorite foods… and Y/n was being so considerate. He was feeling so soft and mushy. How dare you make him feel so soft.

He loved it.

“It hasn’t been the best. I worked the morning shift and… well there are always rude customers but morning people have such a strange breed of rude customers.” You had started rambulling, animatedly gesturing and talking about the rude morning customers.

Hoseok simply watched and listened as you kept going on, a content and fuzzy feeling washing over him as he kept waking next to you. Occasionally your shoulders and hands brushed as you expertly led the way to the restaurant while ranting and while it left Hoseok reeling, it didn’t seem to phase you at all. He could live with that though. As long as you were happy.

In the midst of all your rambling about work, the two of you made it to the restaurant. It was at the bottom of a large building, the upper floors likely dedicated to apartments or business offices. Even from the outside, Hoseok could see a large mass of people jostling around in the restaurant. Large friend groups talking and moving around the restaurant drunkenly, couples draped over each other, and restaurant workers expertly weaving through the masses.

It was obviously a popular place and it made Hoseok just a little nervous. How would you and him get to talk much when all that was happening around you two? Maybe it would be more of a people watching event? One where he only really talked when it came to theories about other’s lives outside of this restaurant.

There wasn’t too much time to think though as the two quickly started walking inside. You only stopped talking after introducing yourself to the hostess. In the silence between you two, Hoseok looked around the restaurant. It looked different from the outside. Whereas earlier it looked as if it would be a party place, now that Hoseok was inside, he could see a semblance of organization to the chaos.

Despite both you and Hoseok not talking, there wasn’t a silence that fell. The whole of the restaurant was lively and filled with a soft amiability that Hoseok really enjoyed.

“Alright. Your reservation is ready. Please follow me.” The hostess said, bowing slightly before turning around and starting to weave through the tables.

Hoseok swallowed his nerves before he started walking in front of you (the three of you had to walk single file because the space was too small to walk side by side) and gently grabbed your hand from behind. People were bumping up against him as he quickly followed behind the hostess but his grip on you didn’t falter. He hoped that his hand wasn’t too sweaty and that he wasn’t gripping you too hard, but Hoseok was nervous and he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd (or let go of your hand yet).

The table that you had reserved was tucked in a corner and overlooked all of the action happening in the bar. There was a small candle lit between the two of you that flickered gently in the soft breeze created by the fans above. Hoseok liked the spot.

“I just realized,” You started with a laugh once you sat down, “I talked the whole walk here. Silly me. I got carried away. How has your day been so far?”

“I like listening to you talk so it’s ok. As for my day, it has been a good day. I didn’t make any more pottery, but I headed the shop and got some good work done there.” Hoseok started, a large smile on his face as he looked across the table at you.

“Oh! So you’re one of Namjoon’s business friends?”

Hoseok snorted at that. Namjoon did have a lot of business friends at this point.

“Yeah. I think I might be Namjoon’s first business friend though. We met in high school and have been friends since. Back in high school Namjoon wanted to be an astrologer believe it or not.”

“Oh? I wouldn’t have guessed!” You laughed, “So what do you do?”

“I am a potter. My shop is just two streets over from the cafe you work at.” Hoseok nodded.

“Own. Namjoon and I are co-owners. I run the front.” You corrected lightly, “How about we look at the menu?”

“Oh. Yeah. Let’s look.” Hoseok nodded along, somewhat caught off guard.

You were the co-owner? It made sense, Hoseok thought as he opened the menu, you looked like she belonged in that cafe. Plus, you were closer to Namjoon’s age than the other baristas' ages. He should have seen it coming.

After a few minutes of looking through the menu Hoseok spoke up, “So… have you figured out what you’re going to get?”

“Yeah. I am thinking of getting Haemul Pajeon with a side of chicken feet. What about you?”

“Uhhh… I think that I am going to get Haemul Pajeon as well but with a side of kimchi. I’m not too hungry today.” Hoseok laughed lightly thinking back to his two large stress induced meals earlier today.

You snorted and laughed lightly before taking a sip of your water, “I get that. Plus, the Haemul Pajeon are quite large. They have great deals.”

Shortly after you two decided, a waiter came by and took your order, and then Hoseok and you were left in amicable silence once again. He was a ball of nerves once again and he had no idea of where to go from here… He wasn’t this anxious when he started dating Minjae… why was it so hard with you? Maybe because he was genuinely interested in you from the start and he was scared of screwing it up. Maybe because he had just spent most of the day fretting over this date and now that it was here, he realized that he didn’t think over the right stuff.

“So,” Hoseok coughed lightly, hoping to clear his throat some, “Do you come to this restaurant often?”

“Not really. I came here the first night I moved into the apartment complex above the cafe but since then I haven’t. I actually came here on my own and just sat at the bar and talked to random strangers. It is amazing to see what conversations one can have when they’re open to it.” You said with a smile as you looked over at the bustling bar space.

“I can imagine. I haven’t gone to bars much so I don’t have such conversations often but I have never had a dull conversation.” Hoseok said wistfully, thinking back to some of the talks that he had when he volunteered to help the homeless back in Gwangju. He wanted to keep up the volunteer work when he moved to Seoul but it simply didn’t happen. He got carried away with his studies and his life and service work simply got put on a backburner.

“Yeah? I doubt that, Hoseok-ssi.” You laughed, “I can’t believe you’ve never had a dull conversation. Not even one with a boring professor?”

Hoseok laughed lightly and shrugged, “I mean, I guess you could count some of those conversations as dull. I guess I was more thinking about general conversations with people… not cardboard cutouts.”

You snorted at this before taking a large sip of your water, blush rising quickly on your face. A sense of pride washed over Hoseok at your reaction. He had made you laugh. It felt good to make someone smile this much.

“I loved most of my professors, don’t get me wrong. They were amazing, but oh my gosh. Ask Namjoon about Professor Gaewon who taught our Stat 240. He was such a snore.” Hoseok started animatedly, smiling as you laughed again, “Even for me and I double majored in Statistics and Business. Dude could put me to sleep in seconds. Lecture or not. I went to one of his office hours once and it was even worse.”

“Oh really?” You asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrows and looking at him with a lopsided grin.

“Oh yeah! I wanted to know a little more information about some complicated statistic and the details and whatnot, nerdy stuff really. He got so excited but you couldn’t tell because he talked in such a monotone voice,” Hoseok smiled brightly before he started mimicking Professor Gaewon, “This statistic, blah blah blah. It is interesting stuff.”

You were laughing uncontrollably at this point and Hoseok couldn’t help but indulge in the butterflies that fluttered wildly in his stomach. This was amazing.

“Needless to say, I didn’t go to his office hours after that.”

You nodded, “I didn’t have anything like that in college. I mean, I was also not a business major and didn’t have to take any stat classes but I mostly got a lot of very pretentious professors who had written books or wild professors who I loved. I didn’t enjoy the former.” You laughed lightly and shook your head, “They seemed to think that they knew everything. It was painful.”

“Oh? What’d you major in?”

“I double majored in Literature and History. I love it. Don’t use it much with my work but that is ok.” You said, coming to a stop when the waitress came with sides for the food.

You and Hoseok slightly bowed to the waiter before turning back to each other and smiling. For a couple minutes, the conversation died down and the noise of the restaurant around you two filled the air as both of you indulged in the sides. Before you and Hoseok had time to continue conversing, the waiter returned and gave both of you your Haemul Pajeon and the two of you dug in All throughout eating, the two of you made comments about how the Haemul Pajeon compared to what you two had had in the past.

Somehow, all the time in the restaurant blurred together and before he even knew it, the two of them were back at Namjoon’s and your cafe. It had closed by now, the windows dark and reflecting the party life outside.

“Well… this was a great night, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, swaying forwards and backwards with a soft and happy smile plastered across your face.

Hoseok felt giddy looking at you. How did he get so lucky to have you ask him out?

“It was. I would love to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah.” You giggled and bit your lip as you asked.

“Yeah.” Hoseok nodded, biting his own lip as he took a step closer to you.

You took a step closer to him as well, your smile growing as you reached out and grabbed Hoseok’s waist. He leaned closer at this and gently pressed his lips against yours, you quickly reciprocating. His hands rose to cup your face as the kiss got heated, soon enough tongues starting to intertwine.

A moan left him as you broke the kiss, a sly smile spreading on your face, “You may have to work for my phone number first, Hoseok-ssi.”

He groaned quietly and smiled, his hands sliding down your soft face to your shoulders, “Well then, can I get your number then, Y/n-ssi?”

You took a step away from Hoseok and giggled as his hands fell to his sides, “Nope. Try again tomorrow… then I will consider. Until then, good night, Hoseok-ssi.”

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blindtaleteller · 4 years ago

Text

Preferred Exerpts: DREAMS - CH.5 - STRANGE

Have I ever mentioned how much love Wong and Steven’s relationship?

Chapter Five was actually my first time reaching for Wong at all past a brief mention, but I enjoyed it tons, and that section in particular; with the bonus chapters to preceding chapters filing in after. I knew Strange would have a pretty important role in Mixology early on. And why wouldn’t he, when the first time the multiverse and alternate realities and dimensions was thrown unashamedly in our faces with his appearance?

Doctor Strange is by far one of my favorite films out of the MCU, as well as the one I feared most for before it finally hit theaters and I got to see it, because I -was- a comics fan familiar with the crazy content they would or at the time could be touching: and was earnestly scared for them just being aware of the fact that if the formula had been the slightest bit off it would have been a terrible failure.

I kept away from teasers and trailers for that reason; but couldn’t keep from the art and promo pics.. which kept my hope up especially seeing an actor I was familiar with and excited to see (Cumberbatch) in the main role.

Don’t think I have to say it did way better than not disappointing. Enough that when it was available for purchase, I bought it instantly and regardless of the fact that it (irresponsible me) put me short on my phone bill due that same week to watch it about a half dozen times in just the first few days that followed.

Anyways! I ended that bit happy with the whole section? But I think out of it all this portion is probably my favorite for a lot of reasons; some of which touch on examples of Wong’s statement just after he reveals the Time stone for what it was..

“ You might have a gift for the mystic arts, but you still have much to learn. “

Enjoy!

~----LK aka blind

-------------------------------=================

“ The Ancient One. It was a common, oft repeated lecture.. Why are you looking at me like that? “ Was it, now.

“ Because I never heard it from her . “ Pulled a very confused look from Wong as he picked up the Eye of Agamotto and opened it, examining the inside. “ I heard it from Loki . It was a part of yesterday’s courtesy broadcast. The one they were listening to during the call, to ask them why he was in rural Missouri, instead of being kept under watch at the Crater. “ He turned it around, after looking through the inside. “ ..where the hell, is this stick. “

“ What? “

“ The macula; is the portion of the human eye at the center of the retina that processes sharp, clear, straight-ahead vision. A little indention at the inner back side of your eyeb-- “ What was that? Wong opened his mouth, and Strange held up a finger; before tapping it at the back side. He flipped it over again, trying the same tap at the inside from the other direction. “ Has anyone ever taken this thing apart? “

“ Stephen. The Eye of Agamotto is thousands of years old. It belonged to the Master who created our order, and the Sanctums; making it much more than a pretty box for a cosmic glow-rock. No. We did not, and hopefully will not ever take it apart. “

“ Sorry but uh; did you just look at me, and basically say ... never? “ Hand raised. Crack, and: ping-ping .

Wong closed his eyes at the ceiling with the expected look of agitation and intense exasperation, for all of maybe a second or two; when he finally realized there had been two tones to that back shiny panel coming off. Not one. Yeah , he had just broken open a thousands of years old rock-locket and symbol belonging to the Masters of the Mystic Arts for ages and generations before even his great great grandad had been a sparkle in his daddy’s eyes. But hey , and “ Oh gee , look. “ He held up the weird looking little polished flat stick with metal bits on either end: one a strange molded square hook thing, the other a loop on the end. “ There’s the stick in our eye. See? “ was met with a sigh, before he turned it over. And over. “ O~kay. The hell kind of stick is this, Wong? Some kind of mini-wand, or funky faery poker.. What am I looking at here? “

It was Wong’s turn to rub his eyes, apparently. Doing a good job of it too. Steady fingers, dug right in there under his eyebrows. Show off. “ That isn’t a stick. It’s a key. “

“ A key? Doesn’t look like a key.. “

“ Maybe not to a westerner. But here in the east? This what old keys look like. “ Wow. He totally could not help the look of disbelief on that one.

“ O kay. Note to self; never hire an ancient asian locksmith, Stephen. What? It’s a stick Wong. With a hook on it. “ Nasty look. Temptation to screw with him a little, rising. “ Okay, okay; two hooks. This could be stuck in the right end of a tiny popsicle, and no one would ever know . My mom? Had a bag full of these in tupperware, stuffed into the side of her silver drawer next to the fridge when I was a kid. “

That was true though. “ Used to fill them with kool-aid, and just; plunk ‘em right in. Freezer for a few hours.. done deal. “ He couldn’t think of a damned thing off hand that this fit though. “ ..any ideas? “

“ Besides that it’s a key, and not something you should be putting in your mouth unless it works some form of silencing magic? No. “

“ That one wasn’t bad. “ as he tapped the back in place as best he could and put the Eye back into its mount. And, we’re ignoring the fact that panel fell off as soon as he was around the pedestal. Will fix later. Maybe. Probably, if I don’t want Wong hovering over me for the next ever giving me the stink eye. “ Right. So.. ‘Beyonce never moves; always stays in the same place.’ Think we got that one but, we’ll see. ‘A stick in the macula.’ “ he hopped the boozy-pop handle between his knuckles as he thought mostly out loud. “ All that’s left is ‘Say hello to Mister Carroll.’ “

“ You’re forgetting the horse. “ made him shake his head. He knew exactly what that was. Who, that was. “ Nope. I know that one. Don’t know that it’s great advice I’m giving me, but we’ll just have to find out. “

“ Care to share? “

“ Soon enough. Do we have any Carrolls, among the new recruits? “

“ No, definitely not. “

“ ..that was fast. “

“ Stephen. Mystic Arts. Not, a pottery class. There are seven. None of them are named Caroll. “

--------------------=======

Read DREAMS directly from chapter Five here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19248328/chapters/45906589

#stephen strange #doctor strange #wong #Mixology #DREAMS

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phoebehalliwell · 5 years ago

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Hi! I’ve recently fallen down the Charmed rabbit hole again and I fount your blog, which is amazing btw !! I LOVE YOUR CHARMED NEXT GEN FIC!!!! I also really enjoyed your thoughts about Phoebe's kid! I wish they would have lived in the actual show. How do you think Phoebe’s child living would have impacted her relationship with Coop? And the whole twice blessed prophecy?

!!!!!!!!!!! thank you!! and i’m so glad you like my fic (which i promise i am still working on)!!

as far as phoebe’s kid + the twice blessed prophecy, i have written on that au here, but i think if the baby really had been born it would not be the twice blessed but i do think they would still probably give that plotline to wyatt just bc. i also think that having a child and being a single mother would really further the need for coop bc dating as a single mom while still having a career is hard enough but dating while you’re a single mom with a full time job and a magical half demon baby who was lowkey the antichrist for the better part of the first trimester is a whole new can of worms. i think she still would have had a relationship with jason dean but i think it would be very short lived as i don’t think that he would be ready to commit to a family. and then by the time we hit season six and piper and leo have broken up and jason has left phoebe and yada yada yada phoebe would really be like huh. love isn’t real. we’re all gonna die alone.

and so she’s sitting at a cafe with paige at the end of love’s a witch and is completely ranting about how love is dead or whatever and paige is just like yeah. uh huh. yep. totally. yeah. yeah. i know what you mean. yeah. uh huh. bc it’s totally Not the time to bring up the fact that she has a date with richard on friday and phoebe’s just going on and on like “okay bc look at olivia! she was doing what she was doing out of love!! and she was killing people!!! just an evil, sad, lovesick, ghost. like me. you know cole was my longest relationship? that was like,,, the most successful relationship i had, and it wasn’t even remotely a success!! he turned me evil, paige. i became evil. because that’s what love does. it bring out the worst in people.” and paige is sitting there like jfc i think i need to bring in a shrink or something when all of a sudden the dude pulls up a chair at their table and is like “hi hate to interrupt but i couldn’t help but overhear and you’re wrong” and phoebe’s like who the hell are you and paige is like yeah fuck off buddy private conversation here and this guy’s like “look. love is the strongest magic we have” and paige is like “ehh i think other, stronger magic” and phoebe’s all like “okay, i don’t know who you are, but you don’t know me and you don’t know what i’ve been through okay so you don’t get to sit down here and try to talk to me about love. bitch.” and this guys just like “actually, i do. my name’s coop. it’s nice to meet you, officially.” and he holds out his hand for a handshake and phoebe’s looking at him like imma judo flip u motherfucker but then something catches her eye and she snatches his hand and flips it over, staring at his cupid ring and she’s like no. she grabs her coffee and storms out leaving coop and a Very Confused paige sitting at the cafe table. she turns around at the exit and gestures to paige like come on let’s go get out of here so paige grabs her croissant and purse awkwardly and leaves and coop’s like “i hope everything goes well with richard!” and paige is like????? so she pulls phoebe aside like Who Was That and phoebe’s like “that was the most annoying, pesky, interfering magical creature there is out there. that was a cupid.”

and later that night phoebe would be tucking her child asleep (who in this story is a little girl named prudence) when she hears “you love her, and it doesn’t seem to bring out the worst in you.” and she whips around to find coop leaning in the doorframe and she’s like “you better leave before i vanquish you” and coop sorta just laughs softly and he’s like “i get it. you’ve been burned before. but actively fighting love? it’s not you, phoebe.” and she’s like “tf do you think you know about me” and coop’s like “i know you believe in love. true love. the kind that takes your breath away, where it's the first thing that you think about when you wake up in the morning. you wanna know how i know that?” and phoebe just glares at him in a very defensive stance like yes i want to know but no i will not play into your stupid little monologue and coop’s like “i read your column. not many people could write like that. you help people find love every day, you help them reach out, take risks, open up their hearts-” “okay you know what i’ve had enough of your little sugar coated soap opera speech. go bug someone else.” and phoebe pushes her way past him and beelines for her bedroom, slamming the door and coop’s like :|

and the next morning phoebe’s eating cereal and by eating a i do mean just pushing wheaties around in a pool of milk while dency and wyatt play in the playpen and piper comes in with a mug of coffee like “good morning how are-” “am i a cold hearted cynic?” “...you doing this fine friday morning??” “i’ve got a cupid on my ass” “i’m going to hope you mean the magical kind and not some bad tattoo situation” “i mean, yesterday i was saying that love brings out the worst in people and now i’ve got this 6′2″ cupid with a square jawline following me around. but like,,, don’t i have the right to say that??? all love has done is hurt me. i’m allowed to bitch a little about it!! like! mind your own business??? goddamn! and you know-” “phoebe i just woke up save the onslaught until after 10am please” and phoebe just sorta pauses and goes back to pushing her cereal around and piper says “and i’m not calling you a cold hearted cynic but... you have changed” and phoebe’s completely ready to rant again like “pfft of course i’ve changed you think you can be married to the source of all-” “zp! not til after 10!” and phoebe slumps back and watches as dency draws a small pattern in frost on the tile floor and you can tell she’s sorta mulling over what coop said blah blah blah this episode is the vortex demon she gets knocked into a world based on her innermost desires and in it she’s happily married and in love in an apartment of her own raising her daughter and writing her column blah blah blah she takes one look at her finger that very much has a wedding band on it and is like “cupid!!!! cupid u fuckin bastard get down here!!! cupid!!!” and no response and she’s scowling like “coop??? coop!!!!!!!!” and he’s no where to be seen and she’s like wait shit i think this is the alternate whirlpool vortex things i gotta find my sister blah blah blah chris knocks paige into phoebe’s world and paige is like “okay what’s the catch” and phoebe’s like “what catch” and paige is like “you know, the catch! what makes this not reality. like in my world, magic was practiced openly, and everyone knew about it. come on, chris said the realities were shaped my like our fantasies or wants... is anything different here??” and phoebe’s like “oh you know uhh not really everything basically the same um but you know i have my own apartment here where i live with dency...” “oh my god wait where is she now who’s taking care of her?” “oh uh well that would be my husband.” “cole’s alive????” “no! not cole! i don’t know who he is actually but he seems nice :)” and there’s a beat where you can tell paige really wants to Get Into What This Means and phoebe really Doesn’t Want To Talk About It but then they both seem to agree that they’re being hunted by a demon so maybe this can take a back seat rn blah blah blah they kill the demon and the end of the episode paige is about to go on her date w richard and her and phoebe have a little heart to heart and paige is like i think you should talk to the cupid bc i think maybe your whole hating love thing might just be a front like i think you’re trying to convince urself of something blah blah blah and phoebe’s just like :/ maybe so.

alright blah blah blah next episode phoebe’s like “coop?” and coop, suddenly appearing behind her is like “yeah?” and phoebe’s like “i give up. so uh work your little cupid magic or whatever and i guess let’s do this thing.” and coop like lights up he’s like so happy and he’s all like “great! let’s get started!” and phoebe’s mentally preparing for a series of really boring dates but then coop surprises her by not doing that??? like he doesn’t set her up with anyone at all bc he’s all like you need time to heal and find urself again???? which honestly phoebe isn’t complaining about and like phoebe will be feeding baby dency in the kitchen and coop will pop in like “what are your thought on taking a pottery class?” and it’s happened before where she’s been so swamped with work that she doesn’t have time to pick up supplies for dency so coop will just go out and like buy diapers?? and gradually phoebe feels herself opening up more and more and one night she’s at p3 and this guy come up to talk to her and she doesn’t just scowl him away and she finds herself having a great conversation and she see coop wink at her from across the bar.

and you know things go well with this guy yada yada yada but one night she goes out on a date and her sisters weren’t able to watch lil dency for her so coop was babysitting and she comes back home to see coop sending out small pink glowing projections from his ring and her baby just laughing uncontrollably trying to catch them and phoebe gets why she has been ready to dive fully in to the guy she’s been going out with. coop says it’s just nerves bc of her past relationships and that it’s completely fine and understandable but phoebe knows better. or at least now she does. she’s in love with coop.

#i feel like this Completely went off on a totally different tangent than what was asked but uhh im postin it regardless #charmed #phoebe x coop #💌#margaretsminiessays #phoebe halliwell #coop halliwell #dency halliwell

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cozycryptidcorner · 5 years ago

Photo

This is a monster match for an intrepid anonymous user!

So I'm pan, but vaguely have a preference for men, but like specifically cute, non-threatening ones. I'm infp-t for mbti. I read a lot, and I love games. I have ADHD and i have trouble doing work because of it but it's also the reason I can figure out random plot twists or do well at guessing games. My friends and I joke that I have a high passive charisma, because I'm just oblivious and talk a lot. I have a lot of stuffed animals, many of them I got specifically because they're wonky in some way. I have too many books. I really like soft things, and soft people. Thank you.

You have been matched with an elf! Well, the name humans call his kind changes over the years, älva, elverfolk, álfur, and so on, but it seems that rather modern writers and historians have decided on the term ‘elf’ when talking about his kind. Doesn’t really matter to him, though, because his people have their own word for themselves, one that humans couldn’t even pronounce, much less would they dare say, even if they could. While his kind considered more advanced than yours, he will admit, it’s rather remarkable what giant leaps of technology have been made in such a short amount of time.

While his people haven’t really had much need for objects such as cell phones or computers, they do depend on a mysterious source of magic they call the Æther. Things like medicine, communication, teleportation, the works, all can be achieved by tapping into it, so you suppose the need for something like cars or vaccines aren’t a necessity for them as they are for those on this plane of reality. Your elf doesn’t really go into much detail about the mystical otherworld, though hints that most of his kind are sworn against revealing any secrets to anyone on the outside about their mystical abilities. You don’t much mind, though sometimes the thought of an untapped, seemingly eternal energy source does keep you up at night.

He is ethereally beautiful, you would never dare lie about that, and very clearly inhuman to anyone with well-seeing eyes. There is a blue tinge to his skin, where any red tones might be on a human. It’s probably because his blood has a purplish navy tinge. If it was red, he most likely would look just like any other human being, albeit with vividly green, slightly upturned eyes, and cheekbones that can cut through glass. His hair is a long, glossy blond, like spun gold, and he enjoys braiding it down in seemingly thousands of different ways. You don’t think you’ve seen him wear the same hairstyle twice, though, at the seemingly endless variants he’s done, you don’t believe you would even recognize it if he did repeat one or two.

Oh, and he’s tall, much taller than the average human. It’s very easy to pick him out in a crowd- he’s the blond standing at least a head higher than everyone else. It’s rather convenient for you because you don’t ever lose him whenever you are out in public. Maybe his blueish skin would be easy to pick out as well, but he usually glamors himself whenever he’s mingling with other humans, as to not draw too much attention. If that were the case, though, maybe he should shave a few inches off his height, also, because damn, even without the blueness, he still draws plenty of stares.

Your elf seems offended if anyone mixes him up with the fae, because the faeries and the elves are very different, thank you very much. When asked how, he usually just goes spluttering about how they don’t respect magic barriers, or how they just ‘make up’ rules about the use of magic which has absolutely nothing to do with anything factual, mind you, and besides, they have no sense of propriety, have you even heard about that white-haired slut who quite literally fucked himself into a curse? It’s their fault they’re dying off, they have no respect for anyone but themselves, etcetera, etcetera, until your elf would wear himself out.

But of course, you mean biologically, as in, what separates the two as species from each other. Which, after a long while of getting talked around in circles, you realize that there really isn’t a difference? Besides their core values and use of the Æther, it seems to you that they are basically the same, sort of like how Catholics might claim they differ significantly from the Lutherans, but seem basically the same from a far off distance. The same source of magic, able to handle it well enough like their bodies evolved to do so, just a very, very different outlook on what it should be used for. The elves, then, you gather, are a vaguely distant parental figure to the human race who only show up when things are fucked royally. In contrast, the faeries are more like that weird crack-addicted cousin who no one invites to get-togethers but still shows up anyway, taking their pranks a little too far.

Oh, and if you think he’s venomously pissed at being mistaken for a faery, don’t even think about mentioning Santa’s little helpers to him, either. He practically starts frothing at the mouth.

Elves have longer than human lifespans, yes, but they also don’t live for a thousand millennia, like modern stories might have you believe. Sure, they live for about two, maybe three hundred years, and that most certainly is much longer than a human, but your elf hasn’t been around since the dawn of time. He did live through the space race, though, and witnessed the moon landing with his own two eyes, just over yonder from where the plucky crew of the Apollo 12 landed. Maybe all those crackpot conspiracy theories about ‘aliens on the moon’ are about him? Who knows, definitely not him.

He does have his place in elven society as a sort of sentinel, or watcher, someone who keeps an eye on the human race and makes sure they don’t do anything particularly stupid. Given the fact he can just walk into places he most certainly should not be, it’s rather easy for him to do so. Though he’s not allowed to interfere unless there is immediate danger of annihilation, he just reports what he’s seen or found to a council of elders, and they decide what should be done with it. He rarely ever participates in whatever direction the council chooses, citing something about the fact that watchers might try to take advantage of such protocols. So, there will be times where he can relax at home while a bunch of other elves take care of the problem... or problems.

When he’s not being constantly vigilant against the top one percent of humanity that seems to want to ultimately doom the other ninety nine percent, he has some hobbies he likes to fall back to. At first, you weren’t sure what to make of his favorite, because pottery? An elf who can call forth a god-like amount of power from some alternate dimension made only from pure energy likes to make little clay things? But yes, actually, he does, and it’s probably because he can harness such power.

Unlike humans, the elves have always been able to snap things into existence. Oh, you need something to hold that ambrosia? Just think really hard about it, and a bowl will appear from seemingly thin air, pulled from its point in time to where you are today. Humans, though, clearly don’t have that kind of liberty, so they were forced to get creative with simple necessities that an elf wouldn’t think twice about. Pottery stems from one of those needs, using clay to create things to eat and drink out of, and your elf finds it just fascinating at the skill and engineering it takes to merely make something look… functional.

Sure, his stuff used to be crazy-lopsided and uneven, but he’s getting better at it, steadily, slowly, under the guidance of a local ceramics professor. Yes, he goes to a university class to advance his skill, isn’t it what humans do, too? He might not actually pay for it, per se, he kind of just… charmed the staff to slide him into the class, and doesn’t have any intention of actually graduating or anything, so he runs free on the campus while disguised to the teeth with a more human appearance, letting his artistic side run free.

Maybe also more of a side note, but he loves animals. Loves them. Animals have such a fundamentally innocent nature about them, yet domesticated creatures like dogs have such a love for their masters that it almost physically hurts him to think about. Even though he can’t really have a dog at the moment- his current human landlord has a very strict pet policy because of her and a few other tenants’ allergies. Though your elf seems satisfied with cutting corners elsewhere, he doesn’t feel like making some humans permanently ill just because he’d like a dog to be around.

#exophilia #ko-fi monster matches #elf

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thesausagequest · 5 years ago

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Sausage Money

Like many other people on this globe filled with waffles and ants and slippers, my free time has to be monetised so that I can continue to live near a small Tesco and a larger Waitrose. On Instagram, this bleak reality is known as a side hustle. It has a hashtag, which is #capitalismisabrokensystemandisonlymaintainedtoservetherich. I don’t know why they settled on that. Usually brevity is key. (I say this conscious of how lucky I am to have a main hustle, which is what jobs are called now).

In addition to being a sausageman in my downtime, I am a writeman in my uptime. I assemble words into an order that people enjoy enough to cross my palms with silver and paper and electronic bank transfers, and on many, many occasions, meat and fish.

To this end, I receive emails - I am special in this none of you receive emails - with listings of freelance writing jobs. Freelance is a word that means ‘job with no security but maybe there’ll be a desk? Can you sit cross-legged on the ground? Outside? Do you mind getting whooping cough for this listicle about shards of pottery?’ In one such recent email, a listing was for an article request by a magazine looking for people to write about sausages.

Now, I don’t know if you’re aware of this. I am aware but I have a little bit of inside info. I have written about sausages. So with all the glee of a schoolboy who has written about sausages for many years - don’t think about it, it doesn’t make sense - I contacted these magical purveyors of opportunity to write about sausages with my storied sausage history and the length of sausages I have eaten, cumulatively - this is not a joke this is truly what I did - and received this response.

Now, I’m not a clever man. I’m not a clever. I am a sausage. But I have gone to sausage university and I have the atrophied ventricles to prove it. This ranks as the biggest professional disappointment I’ve had since I discovered I couldn’t be paid for being ginger despite all of the many downsides. The person who got this gig has to have literally been a sausage masquerading as a person for decades who is finally ready to do a tell-all on how hard life has been when you’re literally a cumberland sausage in a wig and with one shoe on who somehow got a job as the artistic director of the Hayward Gallery. A cabal of sausages, perhaps, taking a break from being delicious - I am not upset at the sausages no sir - and suitable for any occasion to write down the memories of their aunt sausage and her life as a coastal smuggler.

And yes I was in the nude for my graduation photo

Anyway, back to business which isn’t really business because I’m not being paid but that is life. Here are some delicious sausages.

And they are going to provide a lot of joy and also, if you added a comma after ‘easy’ it would appear as if this person is soothing the sausages as if they are a skittish sausage horse and honestly that is a nice thought. Easy, homemade sausage. Good boy.

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fountainpenguin · 5 years ago

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What do the FOP characters do for fun?

HERE is a post about what Fairies, Anti-Fairies, and Pixies generally find entertaining. Individual characters discussed below the Read More.

Timmy is obviously into video games and soccer (both fun, social, activities that don’t require much face-to-face talk and generally don’t put worlds at risk). He also enjoys going out to eat, movie nights, skateboarding, rock climbing… Timmy is an introvert whose love language is quality time. He enjoys doing activities with friends, alternating the social stuff with plenty of alone time. In my headcanon, he and Sparky get into hunting when Timmy’s a teen, much to Chloe’s annoyance (Sparky will stay behind when Cosmo, Wanda, and Poof have to leave, but under extremely strict orders to act like an intelligent but fairly regular dog and not speak or else he’ll be separated from Timmy too). Few things make young adult Timmy as happy as exploring the woods with his loyal dog, away from the craziness of Dimmsdale.

Chloe does a lot of reading and writing research papers. She’s a scientist at heart with a love of history on the side. She’s also a music lover and makes a lot of crafts, pottery, paintings, and scrapbooks. She writes letters and volunteers to serve others often. She’s very into DIY stuff and, as an adult, can constantly be found “improving” to her home. Chloe’s first few years with fairy godparents were definitely full of making wishes that Timmy had already made and learned the consequences before. She wasn’t the type to let him explain why her ideas might not be the best… she has to make her own mistakes.

Cosmo is a people-watcher. He doesn’t get to do this often while assigned to a godkid, but he loves lunch dates with Wanda to busy Fairy World locations where they can enjoy one another’s company and watch the world go by. When at home, he enjoys physical play (Sword fights, pillow fights, robot fights, or just playing with toys) as well as video games and virtual reality adventures. He also loves helping others and bringing a smile to someone’s face; you might be surprised by how much time he puts into volunteer projects off the godparenting clock. Godparents can recommend other kids they think are miserable to the agency, and Cosmo is always keeping an eye out for kids who qualify.

Wanda likes to write in her spare time, and is quite quick and focused when she puts her mind to it (Think “Dog Day Afternoon”). She may not like admitting it, but she’s the one who gave Poof his lust for adventure and love of action movies. Canonically (Revealed in “77 Secrets of The Fairly OddParents”) she also released an album of country music sometime after meeting Cosmo but most likely before she eloped. Wanda enjoys taking her “me time” and spending time with her old friends away from Cosmo, Timmy, and godkids for a bit, but she could never stay away long. She still enjoys singing, dancing, and date nights with Cosmo (any time she doesn’t have to keep an eye on the world and make sure it doesn’t implode is a good time in her book).

Wanda is more of an “I feel closer to you when we spend time alone together” person (watching movies, dinner and dancing with total focus on her, snuggle dates, etc.) while Cosmo is more of an “I enjoy going out and doing things I love with the person I love being with” person (visiting the beach, skating rink, or public pool, sitting on a bench at the mall with frozen yogurt and casually chatting while keeping an eye out for other friends you know and talk to, or just spending time quietly side by side while out and about with a godkid). They have to keep a balance in their love life (Cosmo’s favor generally wins).

Anti-Cosmo’s days are split between government work, formulating evil plans, and spending time with Anti-Wanda (Since he and Foop don’t get along, they’re rarely found together outside of important events like parties and holidays). Anti-Cosmo prefers being home to traveling, although he does enjoy heading out to cause chaos on Friday the 13th. Instead of working on evil plans, sometimes he’ll simply design escape plans in advance in preparation for the next time he ends up in jail.

Anti-Wanda loves to travel; in fact, it’s the thing she’s best known for among the Anti-Fairies because she always ventures out to mingle with the common people and assess their needs. She acts as a mother figure for all the noble kids in the Blue Castle- reading them stories and getting them juice boxes and things like that. She visits her sister sometimes. She also cared for greenhouse plants for many years (we’ll see her start doing so soon in Frayed Knots actually) but eventually passed her greenhouse down to Foop, who wanted to raise things for his projects. Cosmo and Wanda hate to be apart, but Anti-Cosmo and Anti-Wanda are often separated for months at a time (between her travels and his trips to jail).

Anti-Wanda is well aware that Foop doesn’t get much attention from his father, so she does her best to look after him while also giving him the space he needs (though he sees her as smothering, invasive, and liable to break his stuff). Anti-Wanda may not be the sharpest person around, but she knows her baby will never let himself be controlled and that the best thing to do is nurse his wounds when he really needs her- or send him to school with snake anti-venom in his lunchbox.

Foop and his mother actually develop a very close relationship over the years. We’ll see this in several upcoming 130 Prompts. Instead of viewing him as a disrespectful, uncontrollable problem child (the way Anti-Cosmo does), Anti-Wanda sees a little boy who feels unloved and desperate for affection, and who is trying to raise himself, prove his worth by working too hard, and who has chased all his friends away with his snappy bossiness and doesn’t understand why. While Anti-Cosmo is more likely to send Foop to his room when he acts up, Anti-Wanda is more likely to lead him to some dump where he can break all the stuff he wants without hurting anybody. Foop used to rant to her about his father because he assumed she wasn’t listening or didn’t understand the big words he used, but he eventually realized that (Well, Number 1, that she and his father wouldn’t get a divorce any time soon) and 2, that she actually could and would keep his secrets.

Anti-Wanda loves both her boys, but she knows enough about typical Anti-Fairy family dynamics to let them be themselves and not try to force them to be a happy family (except for the occasional painting or social event). Anti-Cosmo rants to her about Foop and Foop rants to her about Anti-Cosmo. Anti-Wanda plays her role as mediator between them, seeing to the needs of both as best as she can. She is a simple woman with simple needs; as long as she can stay on positive terms with both, it doesn’t bother her if the two will never be happy existing in the same room. Anti-Wanda’s influence in his life is a major factor in Foop’s decision to stay in the people’s favor and inherit Anti-Cosmo’s position when he grows up rather than plotting to overthrow him… For all his anger at his father, Foop would never throw his mother out on the streets. Maybe he and Anti-Cosmo aren’t so different after all.

Child Poof enjoyed watching action movies, learning things in school, and generally copying what his big brother did. He has a special skill for imitating and throwing voices, and gets a kick out of a little bit of chaos. Teen Poof plays a lot of sports and hangs out with Goldie and his other friends when he can. He enjoys music and dancing. His favorite way to pass the time is writing fanfiction (and you can guess whose secret favorite hobby is reading fanfiction). He struggles with his schoolwork because he tends to spend time outside enjoying sports, volunteering his time to help those in need, going out to eat with the popular crowd, and generally doing anything to avoid sitting and studying.

When he isn’t busy with school, Foop spends most of his time in his bedroom / laboratory, scheming and generally getting up to mischief. His interests include botany and biology, mostly. Forever a kid at heart, he spends more time pulling off pranks than doing anything truly evil. In his younger years, he often hung out with Crocker and Dark Laser, then their kids, grandkids, and so on. Just like his mother, Foop has a wandering heart… he doesn’t enjoy being cooped up in the castle for long periods of time and often goes on walks (not flys- walks) around the nearby area. Sometimes he keeps the magical pendant that can turn him into Angel with him for an added disguise.

#asks #Anon #FAIRIES!#ridwriting #Along the Cherry Lane #130 Prompts #Perfect pink beaver boy #Rebellious golden child #Dragonfly parents #The bat with the hat #The best bat queen #Purple hippie dragonfly #Nerdy blue bat son

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