Era una mañana soleada y muy agitada en el mercado del pueblo. Como siempre, había una gran cantidad de personas caminando por el pasillo que creaban los puestos instalados uno al lado del otro, mientras que el resto se amontonaba frente a los puestos de interés para mirar y comprar.
Y Athan estaba ahí, en medio de todo eso, observando como precisamente el puesto que era de su interés estaba repleto de personas. Aunque el problema no era precisamente ese, sino el hecho de que estaban los unos a los otros empujándose, repartiendo codazos...
—No me meteré ahí. No me levanté el día de hoy para recibir una golpiza gratis. —así que optó por tomar distancia del montón y observar un rato. En eso miraba a su alrededor de vez en cuando para ver si podía pasar a otro puesto mientras se calmaba el lío de ahí o en una de esas oportunidades encontraba un hueco donde meterse y revisar por qué tanto alboroto en la tienda ¿Un nuevo producto? ¿Sería una máquina? ¿Tela? ¿Perfume? O... ¿una pócima? No, eso sí que no, no podían robarle el negocio de esa forma. O mejor dicho, sí, si podían, pero en ese caso tendría que investigar y ver que tipo de estafa se trataba porque honestamente ¿Alguien mejor que él para eso? No había.
As the years go on and the more I learn, the closer I get to Ath. The first time we met, we barely talked. She’s dated my brother for about four years now, but they’re so much more than just my brother’s partner. She’s becoming a friend – a sibling. They’ve allowed me to be who I am, allowed me to speak my mind. She’s (unintentionally) helped me figure out a plan for my future, allowing me a way to escape. They share my same dream, giving me a partner to explore the world with. I never thought much about what would happen when my brother started dating, but out of anyone he has or could have dated, he made the best choice.
- @athanwritesthings is the Ath in question -- they write WWE fanfiction if you'd like to check them out (they're pretty great if I do say so myself 😌)
FUCK! show a picture of your oc full body back front close look at eye and other important feature show now show shoes shirt pant hair accessessories all of the aspects mmmshowit
well motherfucker i got a lot of ocs but uhh. here's some athan :) ♡ ♡
as far as text descriptions go, i don't have anything official just yet buuuut-
he's got shoulder length (ignore when he has short hair in picrews it just means i forgot or couldnt find anything good) light brown hair, usually adorned with a black classic wizard hat. there is a semi-large yellow star resting right on the brim, on the left of his face. your left not his left. he's got light green eyes, circular glasses, Is Very Goddamn Pale, wears goggles around his neck. he usually wears a collared dress shirt (one of them button-up ones. he's got red, white, black, and purple) with an overcoat (biiig pockets. he's got white with grey inside, black with blue inside, black with red inside, red with black inside, and purple with black inside). he only ever wears long pants but doesn't wear jeans (it's an autism thing). he likes pockets. he has a leather satchel (it's a rectangular bag made of leather. it has a folding cover) containing his spellbook (which looks like a copy of Twilight), a diary (which looks like the death note from Death Note), potions, feathers, ink, etc. if you portray him with a wand you're a bitch and will die in 6 (he casts with his hands which usually would cause immense pain but Nah he's built different [abuse]). he always wears boots. doesn't matter what type just know this bitch wears boots.
ah fuck i just wrote a lot about this guy huh. shit
—Oye, si estás saliendo favorecido indirectamente con esto quiero que te hagas cargo de mantener esta imagen también. —dejó caer su pequeño trasero sobre una de las bancas del parque central, se cruzó de piernas y empezó a contar un montoncito de billetes. Estaba tranquilo porque aparte de ellos dos, no había nadie más —Deberías comprarme un vestido lindo, de marca. O no sé... ¿quizás ropa interior? Encajes muy lindos han sido brutales victimas de tu manos y dientes, pedazo de bruto.
“We aren’t cursed,” I say. “And we aren’t curses. And if you consider that kiss as evidence, just wait for me to make my case when we get home. I gotta warn you, though. The couch is a tight squeeze for two.”