#bdrpsophie

[lou-bonfightme]

une surprise || [sotou]

@sophiehadder

There were two people, besides his family that Lou wanted to see. 

Hades, for one, but--he would save that for later. He missed his friend, of course. He just...knew that things were bad between them, most likely. Lou had broken Hades’ trust. Lou had been stupid and selfish and--cruel. And he knew that it had hurt Hades. He had heard nothing from him (not that he had given Hades a chance, but he knew if Hades had wanted to speak with him, he would have found a way.) 

The other person was, of course, Sophie Hadder.

He was nervous to see her as well, but for different reasons entirely. All of her letters to him were inside his desk drawer, tied with a little white ribbon, carefully ordered and placed. They had been a source of comfort to him, while he was away, and he had no idea how to express that.

But, he wanted to see her. 

It took a day or two, to work up the--boldness to go find her at work. Eventually, though, he took a car to the Garden Grove before walking over to the Haddery down the street.

The little bell chimed as he entered, and there was Sophie at the counter, looking as if not a day had gone by.

“Bonjour,” Lou said when she looked up. He took a few steps forwards, offering the little clay pot, full of freshly planted pansies towards her. “Pansies do not look as good in a bouquet,” he told her with a little smile, “so, I thought--these would...keep longer, besides.” 

[gothedistance-herc]

Nice Catch, Jerk-ules ⚡ [Soft Children]

@sophiehadder

Hercules had been minding his own business. Really, he had. He was on his way to meet Pegasus down in Southside, just getting ready to cross Main Street and head down the rest of Ever After Boulevard, when he heard the unmistakable sound of screeching metal and shattering glass. 

He paused for a moment.

There had been times before when Hercules had tried to help in situations like this, tried desperately to put his magic to good use. What was the point of super strength if you couldn’t use it the help people? But, those times had never really gone in his favor. They had--in fact, almost always, no--no, definitely always, gone in the wrong direction. 

But, call it Hercules’ fatal flaw, but he couldn’t help but--want to help.

So, after a moment’s hesitation, he turned towards the sound, jogging in that direction and--yikes.

What the fuck had happened here? There was a car totally overturned in the street--another with the hood smashed in. A small crowd was gathering. Herc could hear the crying of a little kid. Jogging towards the overturned car, he went to the driver’s side, but the woman seemed unconscious and Herc knew better than to try and move her. But--the little kid in the back seat?

Herc knelt down, giving the kid a smile. “Hey, hey, I’m gonna get you outta there, alright?” he said softly--the kid didn’t really pay him any attention, but that was okay. As long as he wasn’t hurt.

For once not caring how hard he gripped something, Hercules got his hand around the frame of the shattered window, pulverizing the glass that stuck out like jagged teeth. He could hear the whir of sirens down the street. 

“Okay, everyone! Back up!” he told the crowd, just in case something went wrong. Which it would--inevitably.

Then, putting his other hand on the car frame, he gave the door a good yank. It came apart from the rest of the car with another scream of twisting metal. And--of course, he yanked too hard. The door slipped from his fingers and spun like a discus towards the shoppes lining the street.

“Look out!” he called but the door burst through the front window and landed with a thud somewhere inside the shoppe. “Shit, shit, shit.” Carefully and quickly as he could, Herc disentangled himself from the car, leaving the little boy to the paramedics who were arriving on scene and ran into the shop, jumping the wall through the hole where the door had flown through.

Glancing around, he saw it implanted into the back wall of the shoppe. 

“I can fix that!” he said and started towards it. 

[thatsthe-gospeltruth-blog]

Quaint Consignment *|* [Sophia]

@sophiehadder

Urania had been--mildly impressed by the clothing selection that had been provided by this quaint little town, so far. Of course, she’d only really trifled with Casa de Vil, which was quite up to her style, and then, down to Rags and Bags. While horrid in name, the selection was not bad. Obviously many of the more affluent residents of Swynlake donated to it, which was its saving grace because there were also some horrid pieces of clothing.

Now, Urania was curious about this quaint little hat shoppe that she heard about. Hat shops were an old relic, a thing of the past really, and it just seemed to--fit the aesthetic of Swynlake. It was just so--adorable.

She pushed open the door, the bell above it ringing lightly to announce her presence. How--quaint. Stepping farther into the shoppe, Urania squinted a little before glancing around. The hats were--alright. Nothing that really captured her attention right away. She gave a little sigh.

“Hello?” she called out, wondering where on Earth the employees were hiding in the cluttered shoppe.

[lou-bonfightme]

Fluttering from the Autumn Tree || [Sotou]

@sophiehadder

All of their seasons had their merit to Toulouse, but as a connoisseur of colours, how could he not hold a special spot within him for autumn? With its burnt oranges and brilliant yellows, its tawny browns and frigid grey. Sometimes, during autumn, Lou felt like a sorcerer who could pluck these colours right from the air and put them onto a canvas.

And finally, his head felt clear enough to do so, his spirits high enough. Lou had not painted anything of merit in many days. Which meant he needed to ease back into it, no matter how much his fingers ached for a paintbrush. He carried his sketchbook with him now, his other hand in his pocket, trying to find a proper place to curl himself up, blend in with all those oranges, yellows, browns, and greys, and get to work. 

As of yet, he had no been able to find such a place, but he was in no hurry. His stroll was leisurely. The autumn breeze blew friendly through his hair and ruffled his maroon scarf wound loosely about his neck. He walked with no destination, though he knew one would provide itself if he just walked for long enough.

He was an hour into his trek, enough to make his hair slightly windswept and his cheeks vaguely pink, when he strolled passed the Haddery. His steps slowed and then paused, almost on their own accord. It was hardly a decision to bustle into the quiet little shoppe, smiling as Sophie looked up from her place behind the counter where she was working on something he couldn’t discern from where he was standing, which prompted him to wander farther into the shoppe.

“Pardon moi, mademoiselle, I was wondering if you had any hats befitting someone of my--renown.” 

[lou-bonfightme]

Do Tell || [Sotou]

Toulouse: Sophie, ma chere, how are you?

Toulouse: I hope you fared well during our most recent jaunt into delightful Swynlake magic.

[lou-bonfightme]

MK’s Friendship Aesthetics: Toulouse and Sophie [sotou]

@sophiehadder

I loveee these two. So much. A friendship Lou has not ruined so far! They’re both so sad in their own ways, and I just want them to be sweet and cute forever. We’ll see what’s in store for them, but I do have high hopes!

Toulouse Henri Bonfamille Aesthetics || 5

[lou-bonfightme]

pendant que je suis absent || [sotou]

MADEMOISELLE SOPHIE HADDER THE HADDERY 25 MAIN STREET, SWYNLAKE WILTSHIRE COUNTY, ENGLAND, SN17

--

MONSIEUR TOULOUSE HENRI BONFAMILLE 84-86 BROMLEY ROAD, CATFORD, LONDON, SE6 2UR

--

7 Juin, 2018

Sophie,

Dear Sophie,

Salut,

Salut Sophie,

You are probably wondering why I am writing to you. If the reason you think is because I am a coward, you are correct, though, I am much more of one than you even realize.

It may be presumptuous of me, but I thought that you may be wondering where I’ve disappeared off to. I hope it is not presumptuous of me. Though, I understand if it is, as the last time we spoke things were...stilted, to say the least. I know that an apology may be late, and may not mean anything, but for what it is worth:

I am sorry.

It may seem as if I am incapable of saying these words and that isn’t entirely untrue, but when truly deserved even I must swallow my pride.

Not that it should be difficult to apologize to you. I imagine you would make it rather easy. I simply have never had many people in my life willing to give me the chance of apology. I am not sure what that says about me...or them. Nor is it any excuse for my treatment of you.

I am sorry and I hope that you may be able to forgive me my transgressions. I will be gone until the middle of July. Please feel free to write me at the return address on the envelope. If I do not hear from you, I understand.

Salutations distinguées, Toulouse

[lou-bonfightme]

The Vision [Sotou]

@sophiehadder

It took a few days after New Year’s for Lou to properly shake the drugs out of his system. And when he did, he felt brand new, shiny as a penny. He’d called his father (the first time he’d spoken to him since Christmas--unless Lou called Hector first, he could tend to forget he had children (not to mention Lou suspected he was annoyed with their mother for hoarding them on Christmas)). From him, he had gotten the name of several contractors that worked out of London to peruse at his leisure.

He’d gone with what he thought was the best company and now, it was time to go over plans--what Sophie wanted and assess the damage, so that they could get a proper quote for the fix. How long, how much. All those silly little details.

Lou had not come by the Haddery--this was his first time as he stood out front of it. He could simply lift the tarp and walk through the broken window--though that seemed like a poor idea. Instead, he stood with his hands in his pockets, his messenger bag over his shoulder, waiting for Sophie, who he saw scurrying his way just now.

He turned on his heel towards her with a smile, leaning down to kiss her cheek as she approached.

“Salut! How are you, ma chere?” he asked, feeling downright chipper, though, he sombered somewhat, tempering his own intrigue as he glanced back at the war-torn shoppe. “Are you ready?”